#based on photos from the press run

[beetlesanbutterflies]

Obsessed with them🫀🪡⚡️

[classyrbf]

VOICEMAIL! — GOJO SATORU

bf!gojo who misses his baby so dearly while he’s away on a mission. He’s thinking about you all day, missing you voice and your touch. He’s always talking about you to his colleagues because he loves you so much that he can’t stand being this far from you. So it’s no surprise when he’s back in his hotel room, scrolling through your photos in his camera roll while his dick strains against his sweats. He’s rubbing himself through the fabric, biting on his plump lip as he stares at your innocent pictures. He get so pent up, scrambling to pull his sweats down, right hand gripping the base of his dick while his left hand hold the phone. He’s whining for you, dick throbbing and his swollen tip leaking pre cum.

He decides he can’t take it anymore and presses a few buttons to call you. With the phone to his ear, he prays that you pick up, wanting to hear your pretty voice. “Mmph, please pick up, baby,” he whimpers. His brows furrow when he glides his hand up and down his shaft, squeezing a little tighter when he reaches the tip. Eventually, it goes to voicemail and Gojo figures you’re sleeping, but he decides to leave a message for you anyway.

“H-hey, pretty girl—mmph—just wanted to let you know how much I miss you,” he slightly pants, chest heaving up and down. His hips buck up into his hand, eyes squeezing shut. “Miss you so fucking much, thinking about you got me hard, you know that? F-fuck, baby.” His breath hitches. His hand moves faster, the wet noises echoing through the hotel room. “Can’t stop thinking about you—ah, fuck,” he moans. “I want you feel what you fucking do to me, baby,” he groans when he runs his thumb over his slit, gathering more pre cum.

His eyes roll back, jerking his dick faster as his abs tense up. “I, uh, wanted to call to check on you, but I know—mmmph—I know you’re probably sleeping,” he moans through his words. “I love you, okay? I…love you, baby. So fucking much.” He sounds so desperate, voice cracking with each whimper. “Just…call me when you wake up, please, baby? I need to hear your voice.” His body shivers and his abs tense up the faster he goes.

His eyes flutter shut and his jaw goes slack, imagining fucking you into mattress while you scream his name, thinking about the way your pussy grips him so tight. “I need you here right now. Need you so fucking bad you don’t understand,” he breathily chuckles. “I—fuck—such a fucking mess, all because of you,” he whines. “I’m sorry, baby…s-shit…I can’t stop.” His hips roll into the bed as he grows closer to his orgasm. “I’m gonna fucking cum just thinking about you, looking at your pictures…my god.” He opens his eyes, fixated on the way he’s jerking his dick, wishing it was you doing it instead.

“Fuck, fuck, yeah. Oh my god,” he whimpers, voice growing higher, his breathing sporadic. “Baby, baby…I’m gonna…I’m gonna fucking cum. Oh, shit, I’m fucking cumming, I’m cumming!” His hips twitch as spurts of his cum shoot from his swollen tip, landing on his hands and stomach. “Fucckkk!” He grunts, tossing his head back. “Yes, yes,” he moans loudly, drawing out his orgasm. He breaths heavily, slowly stroking himself as he comes down from his high.

Few seconds of silence goes by before he speaks, “see how much I miss you? Call me as soon as you hear this. Goodnight, pretty girl. I love you.” He kisses the phone before hanging up, left laying there in his mess.

[helaintoloki]

hello, I would like to make a request, a story based on the last episode of yours, Five talking to another Five in the final conversation and they talk about his wife and Canon Five doesn't have one, thanks if you want

a/n: i absolutely loved writing this ty for sending this in ! <3

warnings: language, slight angst, spoilers

summary: Five discovers his missing piece

When Five stumbled into Max’s and came across an entire diner full of alternate versions of himself, about a million different questions raced through his mind. However, the most pressing issue he found himself wanting to address was the context behind the lovingly placed portrait of a woman on the wall.

“Who’s the girl?” He asks his counterpart, his eyes remaining glued to the painting. The woman’s smile was gentle, her eyes kind, and her face the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He almost felt drawn to it in a way, as if there was some type of magnetic pull gravitating his focus to her and only her. It was like seeing a ghost or a familiar face from a dream that you’re not quite able to place.

“Don’t you recognize her?” The other Five retorts perplexed, confusion clearly etched on his features. “That’s y/n.”

“Can’t say I’m familiar,” the Boy confesses with an apologetic sigh as he finally pulls his attention away from the painting and sets it back to the Five in front of him.

“No wonder you’re such a mess,” server Five notes with a diverted smile as he tops off their coffee. Calling over his shoulder, he announces to all Fives, “The poor bastard doesn’t have a y/n.”

Murmurs of surprise and astonished laughter fill the cafe at the news, prompting Five’s face to heat in embarrassment at being the butt of a joke he has no grasp of. What do these Fives know that he doesn’t?

“Could you please be so kind as to fill me in on who this y/n is,” he requests agitatedly through gritted teeth. Reaching into his pocket, his counterpart pulls out a weathered photograph and slides it across the table for Five to see.

“Y/n is the missing piece that completes every Five. We all meet her in different ways at different points of our lives, but every time she manages to anchor us back down to earth. Y/n is the glue that holds us together when everything goes to shit. She believes in us, sees the humanity in us despite the horrors we’ve seen and the atrocities we’ve committed. She gives us unconditional love even when we think we don’t need it, when we think it couldn’t possibly exist.”

As Fives look down at the photo before him, he sees himself- or rather, another version of himself- enveloping y/n in his arms. They stand in front of a beautiful home with a picket white fence and a garden full of flowers smiling with pure bliss. It’s clear that the woman loved this version of him by the adoring look in her eyes, and it’s even clearer that she meant everything to the Five sitting across from him.

“She means something different to each of us, but I was one of the Five’s lucky enough to make her my wife,” his companion notes with an evocative smile. “That photo was taken on our honeymoon.

“Where is she now?” Five asks somberly after handing back the photograph.

“Dead,” he replies quietly, releasing a mournful sigh as he sinks back into the booth. “Lost her in an accident while I was trying to stop the apocalypse for a third time. That’s when I decided it was time to hang in the towel.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“We had a good run together, I wouldn’t change any of it,” the replica admits with a reminiscent smile. He takes another look at the photo, committing it to memory before handing it back to Five. “I think you need this more than I do. You may not have had the chance to know your y/n, but judging by the look on your face when you spotted the portrait I have a good feeling you would have loved her just the same.”

Gingerly taking the photograph back, Five stops to admire her gentle features and adoring smile before tucking it safely into the pocket of his suit. “Thank you.”

“You know what you have to do to fix the timelines,” the other Five firmly instructs him. “Just promise me you’ll do by right by my wife. She deserves a safe timeline to live in, one where she can grow old and be happy.”

Rising from his seat at the booth, Five takes one last longing look at the portrait on the wall before returning his gaze to the boy in front of him.

“You have my word.”

[yzzart]

౨ৎ⊹. BOYFRIEND!KENJI HEADCANONS! ── PART TWO.

── content warnings: F!reader, mention of emiko, mina, emi and professor sato, Kenji and you being Emi's parents, ultraman form and first part here!

── word count: 683!

⭑.ᐟ Becoming a warm routine, you and Kenji watched his old matches together, which were recorded by his mother, and it was, devoutly, impossible not to be moved by little Kenji in the presence of his teammates and Emiko's screams of celebration; who offered support and support for his son.

⤷ So, whenever you noticed the momentary change in his posture, caused by the commotion and emotion that was moving in his chest, leaving him vulnerable, you would rest your head on his shoulder and wrap one of your hands around his arm, signaling that you would always be there. supporting, loving and respecting him.

⭑.ᐟ Kenji, at every moment, in fact, always looked at your lips while you spoke, explained or even hummed something; it was automatic, he didn't know how to control it or moderate himself about it. — And he didn't even hide it, casually, he had given up trying to hide the action. — Well, it's not his fault if your mouth is so irresistible.

⤷ Yes, every time you opened your mouth, telling him how your day was or scolding him for getting hurt during a battle, there were Sato's eyes traveling over your lips.

"Emi's reflexes are improving, and Mina will examine her once more." — You said, correcting your posture on the sofa to admire the baby, who was playing with Mina, and finding it adorable. — "Oh! And she's learning another dance, you've got to see it." — Turning your head towards Kenji, you find his eyes, completely, immobilized on one part of your face, specifically, on the region of your lips. — "Ken? Can you hear me?" — No answer. — "Kenji?"

⭑.ᐟ During the beginning of your relationship, Kenji occasionally referred to you as his wife; he simply loved calling you that. — Because he felt, in his heart, that, in the future, it would be true and, in fact, official; he believed it. — Soon, it had become something so natural and special, also, very deep.

⤷ There were times, and some press conferences and magazine articles, when Sato mentioned you as his wife and didn't worry about questions from journalists. — Mainly, in his interview with Ami, when asked who he attributed his important change to.

"I wouldn't be here without my family, simple as that." — He explained, with an air of confidence and determination, focusing on his words. — "My dad, mom, wife…"

⭑.ᐟ Furthermore, Kenji refers to you as the mother — temporary, or also the second mother — of Emi; and Mina reinforced the insinuation, showing photos and videos of you to the baby, just like she did with Ken's. —Usually, when she didn't obey his orders or refused to learn something new, like a child, Kenji would declare that you wouldn't like to know about her stubbornness.

"Listen here, young lady!" — In the form of Ultraman, lurking and trying to reach the baby lizard, which was running and having fun around the base, Kenji didn't like the current situation. — "If your mother knows you don't want to take a shower, she won't be happy with you. — The robotic voice exclaimed from the place. — "And not even with me."

⭑.ᐟ You know that scene where he, in his Ultraman form, is sleeping with Emi and his father? This keeps happening between you! — Due to tiredness, exhaustion from the care you are taking with her, you and Kenji fall asleep with the big baby. — With Ken around, holding and protecting you from everything.

⭑.ᐟ When he woke up, with his clothes wrinkled and his hair completely messy and unruly, accompanied by the mug "I hate mornings", Sato found you and Mina watching Emi, who was sleeping peacefully. — After hours of singing an old and graceful lullaby, your voice had captivated the child. — He was still dazzled, but not surprised, by this situation.

"So, she fell for your charms?" — His morning voice, so hoarse and pleasant, compromising with good humor, even if a little exhausted. — "Huh?" — Arriving from behind, he rested his head on your shoulder, fitting in, as usual.

"Oh, yeah." — You answered, with conviction and grace, moving your hands to his messy hair, stroking it.— "Just like you one day fell!"

[bbokicidal]

"You're So Much Alike." - [B.C.]

Summary: Where you meet his mother for the first time and capture a picture that you will treasure for years to come.

Warnings: None, just a lotta fluff.

Notes: Based on the photo above where Chris recreated his childhood picture w/ his mom.

"When was this?" Your eyes turn to your boyfriend beside you and his head tips in your direction, eyes following only a moment later. A bright smile is plastered on his face as he was previously having a conversation with his mom to the opposite side of himself.

His teeth grit as his lips pull apart in a quiet hiss of thought. "Ah... Mm." His lips press together, brows furrowing as he looks at the picture. "Think I was.. four? Three? Three or four." He nods curtly, eyes drawing up to where you stare at him. ".... What?"

Your smile grows the longer you peer up at him. He doesn't seem to realize how absolutely adorable the photo currently in your hand is. "Nothing. I just love you."

Chan's eyes wander over your own before he giggles, his hand falling to rest on your knee. "I love you too, sweetheart."

"Oh, I was so young here." His mother reaches for the photo, gently taking it from your hand to look down at it. The look on her face seems to say without words that it brings back wonderful memories she couldn't ever forget.

"Please," You murmur, catching her attention with a soft smile. "You look the exact same, Mrs. Bang."

It was kind of his mother to offer to show you baby photos of him. You hadn't necessarily expected it during your first meeting with her, but she seemed more than excited to show you the silly pictures of Chan in the bath, or pictures of him covered in birthday cake when he was two years old. He'd gotten a bit embarrassed at the bath pictures, begging his mother not to show them to you before she countered back with; "What? She's seen it all before anyway!"

And you couldn't argue with that, laughing along as you squeeze his hand in your own. "I mean, she isn't wrong."

You felt incredibly lucky to be able to tag along on this opportunity - visiting Australia with Chan for the first time. The majority of the day is spent relaxing at his family home and getting to know his family; Unfortunately Lucas and Hannah are with their friends, which you can't fault them for, but you get to spend the day with his parents. And Berry, of course.

Their pup seems to take a love to you, following you around instead of sticking to Chan. She sits at your feet while you lean against the kitchen counter and watch his father cook lunch for the group of you; And she treads only a foot or two behind you as you move to dance with Chan's mother in the dining room to the soft music that plays through the house. The room is filled with laughter and the soft banter she exchanges with you on how she may have to steal you from her son with just how charming you are.

Lunch is quiet and soothing, bodies filled with warm home cooked food and Chan's mother asking just how the two of you met - where you saw yourself in ten years, what kind of career you were interested in, and how you felt about her son. Typical first meeting types of questions - But, she seems happy with all of your answers and while you aren't looking, shares an exchanged glance with her son that is telling him to marry you.

It ends as you excuse yourself from the table and move to help Chan at the sink, washing the dishes from preparing the meal and drying them off as he handed them to you. He smiles at you helping him out, about to tell you to go shoo so he can take care of it himself and let you relax. His eyes wander in your direction as you suddenly ask if his father needs another wife - widening in surprise and whispering a soft, "Excuse me?" in shock.

"What? He's literally you but a little older!"

"Are you tryna marry my dad right now--"

-

His father excuses himself from the home about an hour later, something work related beckoning him away. His mother suggests a walk around the park Chan use to run about in when he was little and you eagerly agree, wanting to see more of the local scenery. It's pleasant, a breeze wafting through your hair and brushing over your shoulders as you go. Berry's leash is held careful but firm in your palm and she treads nearby, tail wagging in excitement at just being out.

Without being fully aware of it, you'd fallen behind the mother-and-son duo after being caught up in admiring the nature around you. As your eyes draw back to the pair ahead, you stop walking and Berry takes a few more steps before halting as well. She turns to look up at you in curiosity and when you crouch down, she comes closer to rub her nose against your arm. Hand digging in your pocket, you pull out your phone and let the pair continue walking without disturbing them. Lifting your phone to snap a photo, the picture on your screen looks lovingly familiar to one you had seen earlier.

Chan seemed extremely grateful when you showed him the picture later on - and his mother even more so that evening. His father peeked over her shoulder before gently giving the woman a shake of admiration, hugging her around the waist shortly after. "Jessica, you don't look a day over thirty." And she laughs, swatting at his arm.

Your eyes dart to Chan's and he blinks, meeting your gaze a moment later. Your eyes narrow. "Why am I just now finding out that your mom's name is Jessica?"

[pucksandpower]

To the Moon and Back

Lando Norris x astronaut!Reader

Summary: not many people can say “I love you to the moon and back” literally … but you’re the exception

Based on this request

Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves 🫶

The roar of the engine echoes through the car as Lando revs the McLaren 720S Spider. You glance over at your boyfriend and can’t help but smile. His eyes are bright with excitement beneath his helmet.

“You ready for this, love?” He asks, giving your hand a quick squeeze.

You nod, adrenaline already pumping through your veins. “Let’s do it.”

As an astronaut, you’re no stranger to G-force. But taking a hot lap around the race track with Lando is a different kind of thrill. The track marshall gives a thumbs up and Lando eases the car out of the pit lane. He takes it easy for the first few turns, warming up the tires.

“How’s it feel?” He asks.

“Smooth,” you reply. “Can’t even tell we’re going 200.”

Lando grins. “Oh just wait.”

He floors it down the back straight, pinning you back against the seat as the speedometer climbs towards 320 kilometers per hour. The G-force builds as he brakes hard into the next corner, expertly controlling the slide.

You let out an exhilarated whoop. “Now that’s more like it!”

Lando chuckles. “Barely getting started, babe.”

The next few laps are a blur of adrenaline and speed. Lando dances the McLaren through the corners, braking impossibly late before powering out in a controlled slide. You relish the forces pressing you back into your seat, so similar yet so different from a rocket launch.

As you pull back into the pits, crowds of fans erupt into cheers. Lando parks the car and hops out, pausing to take off his helmet and run a hand through his curly hair before coming over to help you out.

“So, what did the astronaut think?” He asks with a playful grin.

You’re still catching your breath, heart pounding. "That was insane! What a rush."

Lando looks pleased, keeping an arm wrapped around you as you’re swarmed by fans seeking autographs and photos. Most want a moment with their favorite driver, but a few recognize you as well.

“She’s the astronaut girlfriend, right?” Someone asks.

You nod, giving a little wave. “Yep, that’s me!”

The fans seem impressed that you were able to handle Lando’s hot lap so easily.

“Wow, you took those Gs no problem!” A teenage girl remarks.

You laugh. “Well, I have some practice from launch and re-entry.”

“You must be fearless to be an astronaut,” adds an awe-struck boy.

“It’s intense for sure,” you agree. “But so rewarding.”

Lando smiles proudly, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “My girl’s a badass. Takes a lot more than some high-G corners to phase her!”

You laugh and pose for a few more photos before Lando regrettably has to head in to prep for free practice. After a quick kiss goodbye, you wander through the bustling paddock, enjoying the infectious excitement in the air on race day.

You’ve just grabbed a water bottle when you hear rapid footsteps behind you.

“Y/N, wait up!”

Turning, you see Lando’s performance coach approaching. He gives you a polite smile. “Got a minute?”

You nod. “For you, always. What’s up?”

He falls into step beside you. “I wanted to run something by you. Lando seems distracted lately during training and physio. Have you noticed anything off with him?”

You frown, thinking back over the last few weeks. Now that he mentions it, Lando has seemed a little distant at times.

“I have noticed he’s been quieter than usual,” you admit. “But I figured it was just nerves or fatigue going into the season.”

Jon nods thoughtfully. “Could be. I know he really wants to impress this year. But as his girlfriend, I thought maybe you’d have a better sense of if anything else is on his mind.”

“I’ll try to talk to him,” you promise.

“Appreciate it,” Jon says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

You part ways and head out to the pit wall to watch the start of the race. But your mind is only partially on the action, thoughts preoccupied with concern for Lando. He’s normally so upbeat and energetic, but thinking back, you realize there has been a muted quality to him lately that is unusual. You wrack your brain trying to pinpoint if there was a specific incident that triggered this change, but come up empty.

After the podium, you pull Lando. “P3! What a freaking drive," you give him a quick kiss.

His eyes brighten momentarily. “Thanks, love. Feels good to start the season off strong.”

You study his face, wishing you could read his thoughts. “So … can we talk later? Maybe grab dinner in the city before heading back to the hotel?”

Lando shrugs. "Sure, I guess so."

You frown slightly. His response is lacking his normal enthusiasm. But the paddock is too crowded to dive deeper now. “Great, it’s a date!” You say brightly, taking his hand as you both head out to spray champagne. You’ll get to the bottom of this tonight.

After a flurry of post-race obligations, the two of you finally slip away to a quiet restaurant downtown. When the waiter steps away with your orders, you reach across the table to take Lando’s hand.

“So, what’s really going on?” You ask gently. “And don’t say nothing. Everyone can tell something’s been off lately.”

Lando sighs, avoiding your eyes. He runs his free hand through his curls. “It’s stupid, really …”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “If it’s bothering you this much, it’s not stupid. Talk to me, babe.”

He’s quiet for a long moment before responding softly. “I’m worried I don’t deserve you.”

You rock back slightly, caught off guard. “What? Where is this coming from?”

Lando keeps his gaze down. “It’s just … you’re this badass astronaut. You literally go to space! And I’m just a guy who drives cars in circles.”

Your heart aches for the vulnerability in his voice. You give his hand another supportive squeeze. “Lando, you’re so much more than that. Yes, I love space. But racing is your passion and you’re incredible at it. You bring joy to so many people. That matters.”

‘I know, but …” Lando trails off uncertainly.

You lean forward, gently tipping his chin up. “No buts. You deserve the world. I’m the lucky one here.”

He finally meets your eyes. “Really?” The doubt is clear on his face.

“Really,” you confirm. “I fell for you, Lando. Not your job or your fame. Your kindness, your humor, your giant heart … that’s what I love.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “When you put it like that …”

“It’s the truth,” you say firmly.

Lando lets out a long breath, his shoulders dropping as the tension eases. “I’ve been in my own head about this for weeks. Should have just talked to you sooner.”

“Well, you have me now,” you remind him. “No more keeping worries bottled up, deal?”

“Deal,” he agrees, lifting your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”

You laugh. “It’s always nice to hear.” Your heart swells with happiness to see the sparkle back in his eyes.

Just then your food arrives, and Lando insists you try a bite of his pasta. The conversation flows easily again as you trade stories and banter. With the worry lifted from his shoulders, Lando’s charm and humor are on full display. By the time you meander hand in hand back to the hotel, the moon is high in the sky.

Lando pauses outside your door. “Thank you for tonight. And just … for everything. You’re my whole world.”

“I love you to the moon and back.” You gaze at him adoringly for a moment before adding, “Now, I believe a celebration is in order for that podium today …”

You open the door and pull him inside by his collar as he laughs. As you kiss him deeply, you make a silent promise to always be the safe space he can turn to when doubts creep in.

You’re the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by this incredible man. And you plan to spend every day proving he’s worthy of the same boundless love … to the moon and back.

***

You take a deep breath as you stare out the small window of the shuttle, watching the Earth get smaller and smaller as you ascend into the sky.

This is it. Your first mission to the moon.

You’ve dreamed of this moment since you were a little girl, gazing up at the glowing orb in the night sky and imagining yourself walking across its cratered surface.

As an astronaut with NASA, you’ve completed years of intense training to prepare yourself mentally and physically for the rigors of space travel. But nothing can fully ready you for the surge of emotions that hits you now as your childhood fantasy becomes reality.

Excitement.

Awe.

A twinge of nervousness.

And above all, gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to push the boundaries of human exploration. To boldly go where only a handful of people have gone before.

You think of Lando. How his eyes lit up when you got the call informing you that you had been selected for this mission. How he immediately started planning a big celebratory dinner, inviting all your friends and family. How he held you tight before you left for quarantine and launch preparations, whispering “I’m so proud of you” and “I love you to the moon and back.”

Your relationship with Lando has always been anchored in mutual love, trust and encouragement. As a Formula 1 driver, he understands the demands and dangers of your job, the laser focus it requires. When he races, you’re trackside or glued to the TV, cheering him on. When it’s your turn to take the spotlight, he’s equally in your corner, hyping you up and telling anyone who’ll listen that his girl is an astronaut headed to space.

You chuckle thinking back to when you first met Lando at an Engineering for the Next Generation event. Him in his McLaren gear, standing out like a beacon in bright papaya. You in your crisp blue flight suit, NASA insignia shining. Sparks didn’t just fly, they erupted into fireworks.

Fast forward five years and here you both are, thriving in your dream careers, happily together and each other’s biggest fans.

Your daydreaming is interrupted by the voice of the commander crackling over your headset. “Prepare for trans-lunar injection burn.”

It’s time.

You watch attentively as the burn commences, adjusting the shuttle’s trajectory until you’ve escaped Earth’s gravity and are hurtling towards the moon.

The next few days pass in a blur of course corrections, equipment checks, meals, sleep, and anticipation. Then finally, the moment arrives. You feel the shuttle tremble as the engines fire, slowing you down until you achieve lunar orbit insertion.

For the first time, you’re gazing upon the entirety of the moon’s pockmarked surface rather than just a slice of it in the night sky. It’s simultaneously familiar and foreign, a world both near and far.

“We are go for powered descent,” comes the voice of Mission Control. The shuttle shudders as the lander separates, ferrying you and your crewmates down to the awaiting surface. Through the window you watch the grey, dusty terrain rise up to meet you. A perfect landing kicks up plumes of powder.

You’ve arrived.

Stepping outside in your bulky space suit, you marvel at the stark beauty surrounding you. The pitch black sky, dotted more vividly with blazing stars than you could have ever imagined. The rolling plains and hills in muted grays. The unfiltered rays of the sun overhead. And above all, the profoundly silence, unlike anything you’ve experienced on noisy Earth.

You bend down and scoop up some lunar soil, letting it sift through your gloved fingers.

The next two days pass swiftly, filled with collecting samples, setting up experiments, and traversing the alien landscape. Too soon, it’s time to depart. As the shuttle lifts off in a spray of dust, you take one last look at the moon’s cratered face, etching it into your memory.

Returning to Earth, you’re met with great fanfare. Lando wraps you in an enormous bear hug, his relief and elation at having you home safe and sound is infectious. “I’ve missed you so much! Can’t wait to hear all about it,” he holds you tight and refuses to let go.

At the dinner he’s arranged, surrounded by your closest friends and family, you regale everyone with stories about your lunar experience.

Walking in spaces so silent your own heartbeat sounded thunderous. The inexplicable lightness in your limbs from the reduced gravity. Seeing Earth hover above the horizon, a blue and white marble in the void. The sense of wonder at walking upon a heavenly sphere humans have gazed upon for millennia but few have ever touched.

“I’ve always loved you to the moon and back,” you tell Lando, taking his hand. “Now I can say I’ve literally loved you to the moon and back.”

You see his eyes widen as you pull out a small pouch and tip glittering gray dust into his palm — a moon rock. “A little piece of the moon, just for you,” you close his fingers around it.

Lando is momentarily speechless, touched beyond words by your gesture. Then a grin spreads across his face. “You are simply out of this world,” he laughs. “This is going in my trophy case for sure!”

Over the next year, Lando has the moon rock fashioned into a ring, which he wears on race days for good luck. Sure enough, he scores his first ever victory that season, a thrilling achievement after years of near misses and podium finishes.

Standing on top of the podium, Lando whoops and thrusts his trophy high. Then he gazes straight into your eyes and says words meant only for you. “This one’s for the person who has always loved me to the moon and back.”

You beam with joy, pride surging through you. In that moment, all the years of supporting each other through the highs and lows to follow your passions feel profoundly worth it. Because at the end of the day, whether it’s launching into space or racing on Earth, you’re always each other’s biggest fans, connected by a love deeper than any distance — even 768,800 kilometers to the moon and back.

[wosoamazing]

Sharpie

Ingrid x Mapi x Child!R

Let me know if you would like me to write anymore about Søta. Based off this request, its only short but I hope you like it. (Also IDK how good it is but yeah)

“Oh my God, look at you,” Frido says as she walks into the locker room. She had argued it was her turn to get you so you could ‘join’ them for gym session, only to find you covered in sharpie head to toe beaming with pride.

“Look like Mami,” you exclaim, pointing out the mark on your neck, you've scribbled on yourself everywhere that Mami has tattoos so you can look just like her.

“You do look like Mami, should we go show her?” you nod eagerly, jumping down from the bench and running over to her, taking out her outstretched hand.

You sprint ahead into the gym, completely bypassing Mamma, and crashing straight into Mami’s legs.

“Søta, careful,” Mamma calls out but you just ignore her, not having heard her, too focused on showing Mami how you look like her.

“Good luck getting that off, it’s sharpie,” Frido laughs as she hands said sharpie to Ingrid.

“Ingrid, look how cute she is,” Mapi says from across the room.

“We match Mamma,” you exclaim running and crashing into her legs.

“You do match with Mami don’t you,” she picks you up so you are perched on her hip, “and Mami is going to get to clean you up before media, isn’t she,” Mamma says.

“Good luck Mapi, I hope you know how to get sharpie off a child,” Frido snickers and Mami looks to Mamma who just raises her eyebrow, before Mami takes you from her arms and into the physios room, hoping they will know how to get it off.

____

“min lille kjærlighet, what’s wrong,” Mamma asks as you crash into her legs in tears, Mami running into the locker room just after you, “you’re okay,” she tells you as she picks you up in her arms, your body already visibly relaxing in her hold. She sifts through your bag, “Do you want your skilpadde (turtle)?” she asks, finally finding it in your bag and you nod, quickly taking it from her, clutching at it as you smush your face in its fur before dropping your head onto her shoulder. 

“She didn’t like me cleaning her up and then she started crying and ran, I’m sorry,” Mami says, tearing up herself, and Ingrid readjusts you in her arms, so she has a free arm to wrap around Mapi’s shoulders.

“Go have a shower, she’ll be good when you get out,” Ingrid tells her as she presses a kiss into the side of her head, and Mapi nods before leaving, however she can’t help but feel upset. You’re Ingrids, she knows that, but you're now hers as well, and she can't help but feel she is doing something wrong every time you turn to Ingrid for comfort and not her.

-

“What happened, huh?” Mamma asks after a long time of pacing up and down the hall with you, waiting for you to calm down.

“Mami, doesn’t like me,” you answer tearfully.

“That’s not true Søta, Mami loves you more than anything,”

“But Mami didn’t want to match,” you pout

“I did want to match Søta,” Mami says having come out into the hall to find you

“No, you cleaned my matching off,”

“That wasn’t because I didn’t want to match Søta but because we’ve got to take photos, so we need to be nice and clean,” you nod at her seemingly happy again before she scoops you into her arms.

____

It was later that week when Mami returned home from her unexplained outing. Coming in with a bag and placing it on the table, before heading into the bedroom, hoping to find you there, but you weren’t both you and Ingrid were missing.

“Søta, go get your coat,” Mapi heard Ingrid say as the door opened.

“Maps, you home?” Ingrid asked having seen her car in the driveway, “I thought I told you to stop buying Søta things, she has enough Barça stuff as it is,” Ingrid sighs as she sees the bag on the counter.

“What’s this?” Ingrid asks as she walks into their bedroom holding up the package.

“It’s for søta,” Mapi shrugs, taking it off Ingrid and opening it up.

“She already has plenty of Barça jersey’s,” 

“Sì, but this one is different,”

“How?” Mapi turns the jersey around to show Ingrid and instead of it being blank or having Engen 23 on it, it was a María León 4 Jersey.

“So we can match, when she walks out with me,”

“She is going to love that you know that right, and we never said she was walking out with you, she’s walking out with me,” Ingrid replies.

“We’ll just let her choose which shirt she wants to wear this weekend then, and that will decide who she walks out with,” Mapi grins as she slips past Ingrid and starts heading towards your bedroom.

“María,” Ingrid whines quickly following after her

[nicksbestie]

Migraines - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Matt struggles with chronic migraines, and some days there isn't much that you can do, but that never means you don't try,

Warnings : mentions of vomiting and nausea, a small bit of crying

Word Count : 1313

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i got inspo from this photo of matt <3

Living an entire two decades of life with chronic migraines was an absolutely miserable thing.

Matt was nearing his twenty-first birthday, and he was desperate to find something in his life that would help with these migraines. He had gone through prescription after prescription, doctor appointment after doctor appointment, specialist after specialist, and nothing had helped the splitting pain. He had a migraine tracker on his phone so that he could tell the percentage of how often he had migraines, and it was well over sixty percent of every month. It was quite depressing to look at, and even more depressing to live. It really affected Matt’s happiness and day to day life. 

All of their YouTube videos were filmed on Matt’s good days. They would change outfits so that they could film five to six videos in one day, gathering a lot of topics so that they would have tons to post when it came time to put them all up. Both of his brothers were incredibly caring and didn’t mind the way that they had to do things, and both wanted to do everything possible to make it easier for their middle sibling. They rode with Matt in an Uber every time his migraine was too bad for him to drive, so that he wouldn’t have to be alone, especially at a doctor’s office, a place he was already generally hesitant to be at. They truly were always by his side, arguing with doctors that told him it was anxiety based, or that he was exaggerating, when he didn’t have the energy to argue for himself.

Today was a bad day for him. Chris and Nick had left before Matt had woken up, so they had no idea that he was struggling, because the light from his phone, even at the lowest setting, wasn’t low enough to not send stabbing pains through his head, so he hadn’t texted. He hadn’t had the energy to call and speak to them either. All he had done was gotten up and shut the blinds, covering them up with blackout screens that he had bought a couple years back, because he needed all of the light out. They worked incredibly well, and he had cut off the dim lighting in his room that he’d slept with, needing complete darkness.

He had no idea how long he had laid there, he just knew he was in pain. Unbeknownst to him, when you noticed that he didn’t reply to your text, you were immediately concerned, and already on your way over. You’d seen that he’d read it, so you knew he was awake, and he hadn’t replied. He never left you on read, unless he couldn’t bear to look at his phone screen any longer, which meant he had a terrible migraine. You’d wasted no time getting ready, and due to the fact that Matt didn’t wake up until almost two in the afternoon, you didn’t get over there until almost four. You had your own key, both because of instances like these, and because of the fact that you had been together for almost two years now. Letting yourself in, you texted Chris and Nick, telling them that you were there as well.

You wasted no time in going upstairs, gently opening Matt’s door, and immediately closing it behind you, because while the light in the hallway wasn’t on, the daylight would filter in, and you knew it would aggravate his head. Seeing him face down on the bed, under covers and pillows, you gently whispered your greeting, telling him so he wouldn’t freak out, though you doubted he had the energy to freak out on you. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, rubbing his back and laying down next to him. He curled into your chest, and you could see the remnants of tear tracks on his face. You laid a kiss to his forehead, gently running your hand over it and through his hair. Your hands were a cooler temperature, and you could tell that it felt good and soothed his pain for a few seconds. You laid a palm on his forehead, wanting to help him feel better any way that you could. 

You laid with him for about an hour, helping hold the trash can at the side of his bed when the pain got to be so bad that it caused him to throw up, helping wipe his face off and get him laid back down, before realizing he hadn’t eaten anything all day, so it probably wouldn’t get much better. You laid there for a little while longer, thinking about what to do to help him, when you remembered a trick that had helped you when you had a terrible migraine one day. You softly untangled yourself from him, whispering that he could stay right there and you would be right back.

You went into the bathroom, turning a small, very dim, light on in the corner so you could see what was going on around you. You began running a warm bath, letting it run while you went to get Matt a small snack. You set it down on the edge of the bathtub, on the side touching the wall, and went to go get your boyfriend. You picked out some clean clothes for him, grabbed him the water bottle from his nightstand as well, and led him to the bathroom. He knew where it was, of course, but the thought of opening his eyes for the chance of any light just made the pain intensify, so he trusted you to guide him.

By this point, the tub was about three quarters of the way full, and you helped him get in. You knew he hadn’t showered that day, and the warm water on your legs and feet helped with your migraines, so you hoped it would help him as well. Judging by the way his face began to relax once he was in the tub, his back against your chest, you were glad it took away a little bit of his pain. You kept the temperature of the bathroom cooler so that he wouldn’t overheat, but not enough for him to get cold. His eyes stayed closed, but they were a calm closed, not a scrunched, wincing in pain, closed. He didn’t speak much, but he took the water and food that he was offered, and a gentle smile crossed his face the longer he sat in the tub.

The longer you stayed there with him, gently running your hands through his hair, the more his breathing evened out, and the deeper it got, and eventually, you realized he had fallen asleep. He had been so tired from being in pain, even though he had only been up for about four hours, that when the pain had lessened dramatically, his body was so exhausted that he just fell asleep in comfortable arms. You stayed there with him until the water went cold, and even longer after that, because you couldn’t bear to disturb him. After about half an hour, you softly shook him awake, gently helping him stand. By this point, you had both basically air dried, and Matt only pulled on boxers and loose shorts to sleep in. You tugged on one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers as well, going back to bed with him. 

As soon as he hit the bed, he was about to fall asleep again, and you pulled him back into your arms. You never minded taking care of him, knowing that he loved you more than words could say, and as he whispered a soft “I love you” into your chest, you knew you could do this for him for the rest of your life, and you could die happy.

“I love you more.”

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[the-californicationist]

he gets his revenge

Part 2 to "he comes closer and closer" -- at @numberonetastemakerwhispers request. <3

TW: explicit consent, sadism, masochism, spanking, degradation

“I know all of your hiding spots, pretty girl,” Price teased you in his low, rumbling voice, “....and I know that this one is your favorite.”

He was right, of course. But, you’d chosen this one on purpose. There was a part of you that wanted to be caught this time. You saw his bare feet pad slowly, skillful and silent, across the concrete floor of the office. You had fled to the base's reference room, and you were hiding under the microfiche machine. It wasn’t big enough to allow him in, but you could just barely squeeze through. 

“You like it because I can’t come in there after you, but...” he leaned his head down to the ground in a half-plank, snarling at you in the orange glow of the machine’s lamplight, “I have a long reach.”

You tried to dodge his hand, but he caught you by the ankle and dragged you out of your burrow like a cat does to a mouse. He flipped you over onto your stomach and shoved your body underneath his. He was still only wearing his gym shorts from before, and his dick remained soft and spent from your earlier edging. He’d asked you to play with him, to edge him, and you had. But, you may have taken it a little too far. Now, he wanted revenge and it was very much at hand. 

“John! Please. I was just doing as you asked!” He loved it when you turned helpless. You raised the register of your voice to a higher pitch, exciting his drive even further, feminizing your movements by over-exaggerating your cowering stance. Doe eyes. Just for him.

“Yeah?” He chuckled darkly, fully unrestrained in this dark office, “Call me by the name I like, love, or else…”

You pressed the first of many buttons,

“John…”

The slap that hit your ass was so hard that it made your body run cold. You couldn’t even scream. It was as if you had been a camera, and your mind had just taken a photo with the flash on. You were dazed by the stinging pain. He was upset, that much was certain. As the burn melted into a masochistic sort of pleasure, tingling out and radiating from the point of impact like a fresh sunburn, you cried out the words he wanted to hear,

“Sorry, Captain! Please…”

He purred like a lion, humming his approval as he pinned you to the dirty floor,

“That’s a good girl. Why can’t you be so good all the time? Such a fuckin’ brat. Needs her Captain to show her how to behave.”

Two more slaps stung sharply through your skin. One was to your ass cheek again, the same aching spot, but the other was to your hamstring on the back of your thigh. That one made you cry out in earnest.

“Mmm, yes. That’s what I like to hear. Sing for me, pretty girl.” 

He took both of his huge hands and smacked them down at the same time on both of your thighs. Your body tried to make sense of the feeling, and you could literally feel the wetness begin to slip out from between your folds, making your pussy lips slide together as you writhed from the pain, trying to escape his trap. 

“Ah! Please, please, Captain. I’m sorry,” you begged, knowing how much he liked it. Second button pressed, you waited for his response. 

“You will be.”

You had truly underestimated his wrath this time, and you were worried that he might actually take it too far. 

He grabbed your pants and raked them down, exposing your ass and thighs. He hummed, running his fingers lightly over the damage,

“Mm, that’s gonna be a bruise, love.”

Price slapped you hard again, just like the first one, but this time on bare skin. You felt it rattle your bones in your body, and you seized up from the pain, involuntarily trying to escape it. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You had known you’d be a crying mess after his threat to chase you down, but you hadn’t expected to cry so soon. 

He grabbed your hair and yanked your body back into a cruel arch to meet his face as he hunched over you, menacingly. Price had a glare in his eyes that made you imagine him as some sort of animal. Beastial and primal in his ruthlessness. He kissed you, awkwardly and upside-down, licking you more than truly kissing your mouth. He whispered softly into your face, a heavy contrast to the pain he was causing to your body,

“Are you wet for me, love?”

You tried to whisper out a yes, but he was pulling your neck at such an angle that only the air escaped through your gritted teeth. He understood you anyway, letting your body fall back to the floor unceremoniously.

“You are, huh? Let’s see, shall we?” He pulled your ass cheeks apart like he was breaking open a pomegranate, witnessing your plump flesh turn red from his slaps and spill its juices from your swollen lobes.

He seemed pleased, letting out a low whistle and chuckling to himself, delicately fingering your drooling hole, soft and supple, pulsing with anticipation,

“Wow… look at you. My naughty girl craves her punishment, don’t she?”

“No! No, Captain, I - ah!”

The captain used his other hand to smack you hard and fast, three times in the same spot. 

“Oh, fuck. You do like it, love. I can tell. Every time I hit this fat arse...” he slapped you again for effect. You let out a sob. He continued, “...your pretty little cunt grabs my finger and doesn’t want to let me go.” 

He was moaning now, humping his hard length on your thigh, fully erect again and extremely aroused,

“I wanna feel that with my cock, love. Green?”

Price was good about checking in, especially in the middle of a scene. He was patient, and he gave you plenty of processing time, leisurely fingering you while he waited for your consent. You sniffled, nodding,

“Yes, Captain. Green.”

He slapped you twice and left his hand on your ass to fondle it roughly, shaking it like a dog with a rabbit in its mouth. 

“Good. Now, give me what I want.” 

You were openly crying now, tears rolling down your cheeks. You peeked over your shoulder to show him your tears and to watch him push himself into you. He had his shorts rucked down to his knees and his cock in his hand, pointing it towards its target, and as he found it, you watched Price’s face twist into that familiar agony you knew so well.

Teasing him had been enlightening, and you knew that he only made that face when he was on the brink of his pleasure. You decided to press button number three, and you slammed your hips back into him, forcing his cock inside of you all at once as opposed to the controlled entry that he had planned. His eyes went wide with shock, and he looked up at you, just in time to see you hide your grin. The captain’s gaze turned sinister. 

As much as you had tried to spear yourself onto him, you’d left a few inches on the table. His first order of business was to remedy that, ramming you down to his base, stretching you far beyond what you had bargained for. Then, he began to slap you in steady, harsh, evenly-spaced beats. He chose a cheek at random, so you never knew what to expect except for more burning pain.

Each time he slapped you, you cried out, and eventually, the pain warped itself into rhythmic bliss. You could feel yourself clench around him. He wasn’t even thrusting into you, but it felt like he was since your body was squeezing him so damn hard. 

“You naughty girl,” he berated you, slurring his words, “Thinking you could rush me, trying to fuck yourself on me like a…” every word forward was punctuated by a slap of its own, each harder and more merciless than the last, “...filthy. fuckin’. slag!”

He gathered you up by your shoulders, somehow reaching into you deeper than before at your new, arched angle, and you moaned from his effort, feeling your pussy melt around him like hot wax. Price groaned too, low and slow, and you could feel his rod throb inside of you, aching to come. With your chest high, he raked up your shirt and played with your nipples messily and without aim, growling into your ear,

“Such a good little slut for me. Always so goddamn starved for my bloody fuckin’ rod, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied obediently, making sure to put a high-pitched whine on it for his benefit, and for yours.

Price began to thrust into you now, no less cruelly than his hand had treated you, hard and deep, bullying your womb with his fleshy, swollen head. 

“Mmm. Every time you pulse around me, it makes me want to come in you. Makes me mad with it. I imagine how it feels while I watch you on base, sittin’ in your fuckin’ uniform, listenin’ to my bloody briefings, starin’ at me all hungry like. Arghh!” He slapped you again and sighed contentedly, “I get so. bloody. hard.”

“Ah! Captain, please…” He was too deep. It was as if you could feel him in your throat. If you swallowed, you thought the spit would soak his cockhead. 

“It’s my favorite fuckin’ thing,” he smacked you over and over, fucking you into the concrete floor, thrusting your body forward with his massive weight. Your nipples were raw, scraping the ground, and you tried to use your hands to catch yourself, but he was too strong. 

He shuddered, shouting with a gravelly resonance, still slamming himself into you, pushing through his orgasm, and you felt him spilling into you, warmer than usual. It felt like he had poured hot caramel into your walls and was stirring it up in you, frothing his cream to a bubbling, sticky mess. 

Then, he stilled. Laying on top of you, he panted harshly, trying to catch his breath. He began to kiss your neck and shoulders. Then, he gently removed himself and pulled your body into his lap, leaning against the photocopier behind him. You were draped across him, clutching his chest and neck with your hands, crying softly into his skin from your twisted joy. He used his fingers to play inside of you gently, feeling his messy come and spreading it all over your folds, massaging it into your ass cheeks, smearing it across both of your holes. 

“You okay, love?”

“Yes, sir,” you kissed his chest as it was the closest thing your mouth could reach.

“Gonna come back to my quarters tonight? We need to ice that arse. Not gonna be able to run your drills tomorrow.”

“Drills?” Your voice couldn’t hide your panic. 

He chuckled, kissing your forehead,

“I warned you, love. Don't test me.”

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

[sweetbans29]

Power Couple - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Life during Caitlin and your rookie season - Based on THIS request

Warnings: None that I can think of :) just some fluff for ya

Word Count: 4.8k

Power Couple Part 2

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I don't know much about soccer but I tried my best! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think 🤍

The first time Caitlin knew you were something special was in high school. The two of you faced off on the soccer field during a game. This was when Caitlin still played soccer and was figuring out if she wanted to pursue soccer in college or basketball. She ended up going with the latter and was thankful for it because you were a force to be reckoned with.

You had nearly a perfect game. Your team came out on top but no thanks to a certain player on the other team. When the game was over and your team was going around saying 'good game' to the other team you pulled no.23 in.

"You almost gave me a run for my money, keep it up babe," you say as you bring her into a half hug so you can whisper it in her ear. You give her hip a little pinch before shaking hands with her coaches.

Caitlin is left speechless. She goes back into the locker room - star-struck and a little confused. She has never really been interested in anyone and has never really had the time to date but you had her wanting more. That night, she did some IG stalking and found you. She spent the whole evening looking through your page and all your tags. She went through all your teammate's photos and even searched you as a tag. She fell asleep contemplating if she was going to follow you. It seemed silly that she was nervous to press a button.

She dreamt of you that night. Had a dream that the two of you played D1 soccer in college together and were the 'it' couple of school (not like that is really a thing in college but a girl can dream). When she woke up in the morning she looked at her phone to see what time it was. She shot up when she saw the notification that you had followed her. She couldn't believe a single notification had her feeling like a little school girl but there she was.

When you woke up the next morning, you saw that Caitlin had requested to follow you back.

From there - she was the one to message you first, talking about how amazing you had played and how impressed she was. You were hardcore flattered. The two of you didn't talk much after but you both followed each other in your respective sports. You learned that Caitlin dropped soccer for basketball which you thought was a shame - she could have easily gone D1. But watching her on the court was something else. Her IQ on the court was something you had never seen before.

It was during your senior year of high school that the two of you started going to watch each other play. At least when you both had the time, which wasn't super frequent. It was merely a taste of what the two of you were about to experience in college. Both of you had signed to become Hawkeyees. Caitlin for basketball and you for soccer.

It was your freshman year of college that the two of you started hanging out. You had become pretty close friends that always acted like more. Your friendship took a turn one night when you were taking care of a very sick Caitlin.

"I don't want soup," she pouts and turns away from the spoonful of soup you are trying to feed her.

"Caitlin you need to eat," you say as you grab her shoulder to hold her down from rolling over. She tries to fight you but is extremely weak due to the flu overtaking her body. She whines when she can't turn away from you and lays there in defeat. She looks like she is on the verge of tears.

"Hey, hey," you say as you rub her arm. "Shhh it's okay love." Your hand comes up to her face and caresses it. She looks up at you with such tired eyes. "I know you don't want to but you haven't eaten in days and it's scaring me."

Her eyes stare into yours as she takes your hand holding the spoon and guides it to her mouth. She takes a little bite that looks painful to swallow but she does. You kiss her forehead and continue to feed her the broth.

Later that night you fell asleep next to her bed, you took the floor to not get sick yourself. Caitlin woke up and saw you sleeping on the floor. She turned to face you and looked down, she loved watching you sleep. You always looked so peaceful which is so different than watching you on the field. She reached down and brushed a piece of hair from your face and whispered 'I love you'. Little did she know that her touch had stirred you awake and you heard her little confession.

It was shortly after Caitlin got better that you two started dating. You went public on your three-month anniversary, which was also when you signed for the USWNT. It had been a dream of yours since you were a little girl.

You stopped playing for Iowa once you joined the women’s team but that didn’t stop you from going to support your girl for her games whenever you could. Caitlin did the same whenever you had games close by and the two of you sort of became known supporters at each other's games. It was kind of cute how people would get excited to see Caitlin coming to your games and vice versa. Someone had even started an amateur fan account for the two of you, nothing ever came from it but it would pop up on your feed every now and again. It was mostly posts of you wearing Caitlin's jerseys at her games and Caitlin wearing your jerseys to support your games.

There was one game you went to support Caitlin and had her fans come up and ask for pictures with you. It was cute how her fans were so supportive of the two of you. But with support, also comes hate.

As the years go on, your relationship with Caitlin grows. By the time the two of you are entering your senior year of college, you have pretty much been through it all. The ups and downs have been very high and very low but you wouldn't have changed any of it. It was because of those times that you know as you begin your careers, you and Caitlin will make it.

It is during your last year that you get drafted as the first pick to the Chicago Red Stars. Caitlin and your family are there for the draft and are over the moon for you to be playing closer to home. When your name is announced - you hug your family first then make your way to Caitlin. She engulfs you in a hug and kisses the top of your head. You look up and give her a little kiss before heading up to shake the announcer's hand and head off to a few interviews.

Being drafted before the school year ended meant that you would have to finish your senior year online. It wasn't your favorite but you were determined to get your degree, even though everyone was saying you no longer needed it. It was something you felt like you needed to accomplish.

This also meant that you would be moving to Chicago to start training. At no point was there ever any tension in your relationship with Catilin when it came to moving. The two of you had a conversation early on about what your life goals were which included playing pro for your respective sports. The two of you talked through what that would look like and how you would prioritize one another while pursuing each of your dreams. The way you two were on the same page only solidified your relationship even more.

As Caitlin and the Hawkeyes were heading into March Madness - you weren't able to make it to the Sweet Sixteen or the Elite Eight. That didn't stop you from watching your girl dominate on the court - breaking records and doing what she does best (shooting logo threes).

You were bummed that you couldn't be there when she broke the NCAA scoring record but one of your teammates got a video of you watching your girlfriend make history and posted it. It gained a lot of traction and was the first time they featured your relationship on any sports network.

When you found out Caitlin was heading back to the final four - you made it a priority to head to Clevland to watch. You were able to pull some strings and get courtside seats to watch your girl front row. You watched them play UConn and were stressed the entire game. This was some of the best defense you have seen a team put up against Cait. They came to fight.

Throughout the game you had people come up to you and ask for autographs and photos. It was neat to see it was a variety of both Caitlin's fans who knew you as her girlfriend and also your fans who have watched you since you started with the USNWT.

When the Hawkeyes pulled through and took the win - everyone flooded the court, making it almost impossible to find Caitlin. It was actually a handful of people in the crowd who helped you locate her. When you saw her, you ran straight up to her and wrapped your legs and arms around her. You knew what this game stood for - it was redemption from the previous year.

"THAT WAS AMAZING BABE!" You yelled right in her ear.

She laughs and spins you around, "I am so glad you were able to make it." She inhales you and is reminded of how much she misses you. "Do you have to leave?" She asks, only half-heartedly wanting the answer.

"Well knowing you were going to win this game and Coach not needing me back until Monday, I am staying to the final," you say hoping down from your girl but keeping your arms around her neck.

Caitlin brings you back into her and just holds you. As thankful as she is that her team just won, she is even more grateful that she gets to spend some time with you. Cait and the team only had a light practice the day in between games. The rest of the day was to be used as a rest day with the exception of a team dinner. You spent the day in Caitlin’s hotel room. Most of the time the two of you spent catching up on life and how each of you has been doing. She talked about her feelings about how she contemplated staying at Iowa for a fifth year versus going to the WNBA draft. The two of you had talked a little over the phone about it but there was something about having you there that really opened her up about all the thoughts she truly had. You sat there and listened to her talk - it was one of your favorite things to do. You could sit with her forever and be content.

She loved talking to you because you never pushed her in one direction or another, but would rather genuinely listen to her. And when she would pause to gather her thoughts, you would ask her questions to help her figure out what she wants to do and not what the media expects of her. You knew the last thing that she needed was someone else telling her what she should and shouldn't be doing.

When it was your turn to unpack - you talked about the shift from playing on the women's national team to a city team. It was a shift but one that was really nice. It felt like you were finally able to settle down somewhere and you were excited for her to feel the same and hopefully a little closer to yourself than she was at now. You missed being around her.

You continued to talk about how her team has been super welcoming and that you all instantly fit into the team. That was something Caitlin knew you were worried about signing with the Chicago Red Stars. She hasn't been out to one of your games yet but is hoping to before she goes into training.

That night you joined Caitlin at the team dinner. All the girls were happy to see you. It was great getting to spend some time with everyone - with Cait being on the team, you had become really close to some of her friends. Kate and Gabby were especially happy to see you.

You went to watch the championship game the next day - sitting right behind the team's bench. You watched your girl put up 18 points in the first quarter - breaking another record in her last collegiate game.

As the game progressed you saw how difficult it was for the Hawkeyes to put up points against the best defensive team in the league. But they put up a fight.

In the final quarter, you could see the hope in the team's eyes slip away as the momentum SC was gaining kept going. When there were only a few minutes left, you saw the shift in Caitlin's demeanor and knew that she was beginning to accept defeat.

At the one-minute mark, Coach Bluder pulled her starting seniors and allowed some of the other girls take the court. As Caitlin was walking off, she alongside Kate and Gabby went down the line of coaches and gave them each a hug. When she sat down on the bench, you couldn't see her face but knew she was struggling to keep it together. If there was anyone else in this stadium that knew how much she wanted this win, it was you.

It didn't come as a surprise when Caitlin sat right in front of you. You leaned down to her and placed your hand on her arm. No words needed, just a sign to show her that you were there. Her hand comes up and rests on yours, giving a little squeeze.

She spent that night in your arms. You tried to get her out of her head but weren't doing a great job of it. All Caitlin really wanted was to be held by you and that is exactly what you did.

You flew back to Chicago that Monday - feeling sad you were leaving Caitlin but know you left her in good hands with Kate and Gabby. Before leaving - Caitlin booked a flight to come out to watch you play in Chicago. You thought it would be a good distraction as well as nice to have her back in the stands.

When it was game day, you took the field for warm-ups, occasionally looking towards the stands to see where your girlfriend was watching from. It wasn't an easy task but you looked in all the typical places she would watch from when you were playing for the USWNT. When you couldn't find her in the crowd, you got worried that she wasn't able to make it. When you got back to the bench, you did a quick scan when one of the other girls came up to you and pointed to one of the boxes. Looking over - you saw Caitlin in the middle box talking with your team manager.

A smile makes its way to your face as you see them talking and laughing. Your team manager was kind of a hard-ass which would have you worried if it was anyone other than Caitlin. But knowing your girl, she could start a conversation with anyone.

Throughout the game, you would glance up to the box. You were met with the sight of either Caitlin watching intently or her talking with whoever else was there. You noticed one of the times she was talking to one of your teammate's wives. It was such a comfort to have her there.

At the end of the game, your team pulled through and took the dub against the Kansas City Current. As the team was celebrating you felt someone come up from behind you and spin you around. Knowing immediately who it was, when you were put down - you turned and jumped into Cailtin's arms.

"Proud of you babe," she says as she embraces you yet again.

"I am glad you were able to come," you say and grab her hand to introduce her to a few of your teammates.

The next day you see an article out about Caitlin coming to your game. It wasn't the first but it was the first that you saw circulate social media to this extent. It caught like wildfire and the next thing to know your following on IG went from 20k to 50k.

You didn't think much of it considering you don't follow the media really at all but thought it was cute and shot it over to Caitlin. She thought it was funny and criticized the photo they chose of the two of you.

The next thing you know, you are in New York getting ready for the WNBA draft. You are sharing a room with Caitlin and just sit in awe as your girl is getting dressed. She is the first to sport Prada for the WNBA and she is looking amazing.

Once she is dressed, the two of you head down. There are a few photos snapped of Caitlin on the way down, you follow closely behind her, trying to not get in the frame. That proves hard to do as she refuses to let go of your hand. At one point she looks back and gives your hand a little kiss before heading into the elevator to head down to the orange carpet.

The night went by in a blur. Caitlin is the first pick and is headed to the Indiana Fever. It was what both of you were prepared for and have honestly started planning for as well. You two started talking about how it would be so nice to only be an hour's plane ride away from each other (a 3-hour drive if needed).

Her crew celebrates by going out for some drinks and food. It was a fun night out with the girls not only celebrating Caitlin but also Kate who was drafted into the Aces. The two of you end the night back in the hotel.

The next morning, you started to get notifications and messages about the media calling you and Caitlin the new 'Power Couple' of the sports world. Before you could open anything on your phone, Caitlin was showing you hers. You looked at the post that Ovvertimewbb posted. It was the photo of Caitlin kissing your hand right before heading into the elevator with a caption on how you two are the couple to watch in and out of the game.

"So they are calling us the couple to watch," you say as you hand the phone back to Cait.

"Looks like it," she says with a laugh. "I have no idea what that means."

"Honestly, neither do I but we will find out," you say as you lean over to give her a kiss.

Throughout both of your rookie seasons, the media watches you both closely. You because you have been on fire, consistently playing record-breaking games and carrying your team to victory, and Caitlin because she is changing the game.

Now that the two of you are closer, going to support each other has become much easier. Once Caitlin started in Indiana, she was at almost every one of your games - almost always supporting you from your manager's booth. You always joke with her that your manager loves her more than they do you. Every now and again she would be standing fieldside, out of the way of course. The media tore up any time she was standing on the field or seen talking with your manager. It would always be something about how Caitlin is such a great girlfriend coming out to support you. Or it would be how your GM has found a new person to watch their team with, having a picture attached with your GM and Caitlin laughing about something.

The posts and articles went both ways. You went to support Caitlin whenever you could which then put you in the spotlight. It was unexpected to both of you how much the media ate up your support for each other.

It was when you were watching an interview that Caitlin was in that it began to click.

"Caitlin - you are projected to be rookie of the year, how do you feel about that?" The interviewer asks.

"I think it's pretty awesome," she responds with a smile. "Just like the work I have put in during my college career to get here, I have put in the work this season to be up for rookie of the year."

"Well, it is quite impressive, if I must say," the interviewer compliments your girlfriend. "But what is also impressive is that your girlfriend is also up for rookie of the year."

Caitlin just smiles and nods. She could say a lot (she will rarely brag about herself but when it came to you, she could talk up a storm) but just sits and nods. To everyone watching - it was a proud girlfriend moment.

"Seeing you go and support each other at games, getting the posts of your post-game meals with one another, and all the talk about how each of your teammates has become great friends with you and her, you have become the ultimate power couple in the sports world." Caitlin doesn't blush easily but she’s blushing now. "How has becoming this power couple affected your relationship?"

"Well it is kind of funny - neither Y/n nor I have really seen much of what has been going on in the media with any of it," Caitlin says.

It was true - the two of you tried your best to stay out of looking into the media like that. You knew it wouldn't affect your relationship in the slightest but never really cared for what other people said about the two of you. Outside of supporting each other during games the two of you led a pretty private relationship.

"Well let me show you a slim snippet of what the fans are saying," the interviewer says as they start flashing photos of you on the screen. "There are endless fan edits of the two of you while you are watching each other games. What really got me was finding a fan account that has been following the two of you since your college years."

Pictures of the two of you from their account started flying across the screen. Photos going back in time - it was a neat way to reminisce on the past and how far you have come.

At the end of the slideshow is a picture from when you played in your final home game for your high school - senior night. It was a picture of you and two other girls heading to the captain's meeting in the middle of the field. In the photo, it is you and your co-captains looking down but if you looked over to the crowd - there is Caitlin, front row with some of her friends there to watch you play.

Caitlin remembers the moment as if it was yesterday. She debated going to that game for weeks before it happened. She didn't tell you she was coming to your senior night but brought you flowers and she gave them to you afterward. That was the night that you had Caitlin falling even harder than before - getting so excited when you saw her. Causing her heart to leap out of its chest when you dropped all of your stuff to pick her up and spin he around. Her stomach filled with butterflies and her cheeks turned a deep pink - the first time you made her blush.

"Yep, that's me," she says with a laugh, turning even more red than before. "You could say we were fans of each other long before we started dating.'

"Well, that is the cutest thing!" The interviewer says with such excitement. "We are all rooting for the two of you and can't wait to watch you both as you progress in your careers."

Later that night, you call Cait. She picks up the phone immediately.

"I know, I know," she says, already knowing what you are going to say.

"You are too cute when you blush," you say with a little laugh.

"Ugh stop babe," she says laughing as well. "Did you hear when they called us the ultimate power couple?"

"I did," you say full-on laughing now. "It is crazy to see how many people are invested in our relationship."

You hear her hum in agreement, but she doesn't say anything.

"Hey babe, is everything okay?" You ask, worried that this is all starting to get to her. You know Caitlin doesn't follow the media like that but you wouldn't blame her if she fell down the rabbit hole after that interview. I mean, you did.

It wasn't intentional but after you watch the interview, curiosity got the best of you and you started looking at some accounts. Most of it was sweet - pictures and comments of how the world is cheering you on but with being in the spotlight more, there were also more people who used the platform to tear you down. It really didn't affect either of you - at least when people talked about yourselves. But you knew when people start talking bad about you on her posts, she gets caught up in her head about how hateful the world can be.

It takes her a minute but after what feels like a lifetime, she responds.

"You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing," she starts, causing your heart to swell. She begins to stumble on her words. "I - just thank you." She says. "Thank you for being so amazing not only to me but to the world. I can't wait until you begin your off-season and move here with me so we can finally be together. Then when you go back, and I am off, I will come and live with you and everything will be right in the world and we will get a dog and start planning our wedding and both be living out our dreams."

She pauses and you take a sharp inhale. The two of you haven't really talked about marriage - if you were being honest, you had no idea that was even on Caitlin's radar. It was on yours but you never wanted to rush her.

"What was that last part?" You ask slowly.

"Us living out our dreams?" She asks, knowing it is not what you are talking about.

"No right before that..." you say as it feels like time has stopped. The only other time you have felt this with her is the first game you played against her. She had been one of the only other players who could keep up to you and you let her know that after. Whispering the compliment in her ear and watching her react to your touch had stopped time for you.

"Start planning our wedding...?" Caitlin says extremely slowly. You are hooked on every single word she says as she repeats that.

"Caitlin Clark, are you asking me to marry you?" You say jokingly but also dripping with genuine interest.

"You are just going to have to wait to find out," she says and you can hear the smirk that has grown on her face.

Little did you know that Caitlin already had the ring. She knew she was going to marry you after you picked her up and spun her around on your senior night. It only solidified when the two of you started dating in college and were there to support one another during your sporting events but also just with life in general. Having you by her side wasn't an option. You pushed her to be better than she could have ever imagined. You brought her out of her head when no one else could. You let her be herself unapologetically and she couldn't imagine a more perfect person.

"Well just know, if you get down on one knee at either of our award ceremonies, I will say no." You say, trying to play it cool when your heart is beating faster than it does on the field.

Caitlin laughs and you join in, longing for the days when you can have these conversations face to face.

AN: I hope this does the request justice. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Coming home to you

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 2

Prompts: Soft and slow & Clothes on

Words: 1,339

Rated: E

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Established relationship; Kindergarten teacher Steve; Domestic fluff; Fluff and smut; Soft dom Eddie; sub Steve; Groping; Dry humping; coming in pants

Eddie is halfway through composing an absolutely sick riff when the front door slams shut. The sound rattles the walls of the apartment and sends one of their framed photos askew. Eddie blinks, pulling off his headphones and taking a few moments to get his bearings. It’s starting to turn dark outside and his stomach is rumbling. Shit, for how long was he out? 

“Stevie? You home?” he calls, but the apartment stays quiet, bar for the creak of the bedroom door and the thud of a body hitting the mattress. Eddie frowns, setting the guitar aside and padding across the hallway. 

A look into their bedroom reveals Steve, spread out on the bed like a starfish. His shoes are lying by the foot end, but that’s as far as he’s managed to undress before collapsing face-down into the sheets. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, sinking down onto the bed and laying a comforting hand on his ankle. “Rough day?” 

“wha dof ip loolie?” Steve says into the mattress. 

Eddie doesn’t rise to the bait, just laughs lightly and crawls further onto the bed, hand migrating from Steve’s ankle up to the small of his back. “Wanna talk about it?” 

Steve’s back rises and falls under the weight of his enormous sigh, but he does turn his head to unstick his face from the pillows. 

“Josh and Christopher got into another fistfight at lunch. Ever tried prying two five-year-olds out of a fistfight? They're at perfect level with your crotch.” 

“Ouch,” Eddie winces, fingers creeping under the hem of Steve’s polo to caress the dip of his spine, just over the waistband of his jeans. 

Steve huffs. “Yeah, ouch. I had to call their parents about it, and you know how Josh's mom is, her son's a perfect little angel in her eyes. And while she was busy yelling at me, the rest of the group got into the finger paint, so guess who's been cleaning the classroom all afternoon.” 

His eyes are large and round and miserable as he looks up. There's a big smudge of pink paint just below his hairline, and Eddie feels something unbearably fond flutter in his chest. 

“I dunno,” Steve shrugs. It turns into a weird, twitchy kind of movement, what with the way he’s still very much embedded in the mattress. “Sometimes I think this isn’t the job for me after all.”

“Aw, baby,” Eddie coos. He shifts so that he’s lying next to Steve, gently coaxing him to turn to his side, so that they are facing each other. “You were made for this job. The kids love you, and what’s some bitchy moms if you’ve fought an interdimensional war?” 

Steve huffs a dry laugh, fingers linking at the base of Eddie’s neck. “Are you suggesting I bring the nail bat to my next Meet the Teacher day?”

“That would be so fucking sexy,” Eddie murmurs, and lets himself be pulled in. 

It starts out innocently enough. A soft press of lips against lips, the gentle tickle of hands running through hair, that beautifully warm feeling blooming in his chest as Steve melts into his touch. Steve sighs against his mouth, low and content, and Eddie nips lightly at his bottom lip, asking for entrance. For a while, they lose themselves in the lazy glide of spit and tongues, legs tangling in the sheets, hands roaming over the familiar curves of shoulders and chests and hips. It's only when Eddie’s hands start fumbling for the fly of Steve’s pants that Steve makes a reluctant sound and breaks the kiss.

“What's wrong?” Eddie asks. “The headaches again?” 

“No,” Steve smiles at him, bashful and soft in the fuzzy light of the darkening room. “Just … fucking exhausted I guess. Sorry, I don't think I'll be up to it today. Can't even muster the energy to take off my clothes, leave alone-” 

“Oh?” Eddie says, cupping the very obvious bulge in Steve's pants and grinning at the startled gasp it gets him. “Don’t worry, baby. You won’t have to take off a thing.” 

Steve laughs, hoarse and breathy with arousal. “What are you on about, huh? There’s no way in hell you can get me off with my clothes o-oh.” 

He trails off into a low moan, forehead sagging against the crook of Eddie’s neck, long lashes tickling Eddie’s skin. 

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks around a chuckle. His one hand continues palming Steve through the fabric of his pants, feeling him grow hard under his touch, while the other splays against the small of his back, pulling him closer. “I bet I can. I bet it’s easy. You’re so responsive, baby, so eager for me to take you apart. Give me half an hour and I’ll have you coming in those pants.” 

“Fucking show-off,” Steve snorts, but his hips have started rolling in slow, rhythmic motions to meet Eddie’s touch. His lips tickle Eddie’s pulse. “Go on then. Prove it.” 

“Gladly, sweetheart,” Eddie says, letting his voice drop to that gravelly rumble that Steve likes. The one that always makes Steve go soft and pliant in his hands, trusting Eddie to do whatever he wants with him. And damn, if he isn’t the luckiest bastard in the world for it. “Your wish is my command, you know that.” 

He presses his lips to that magnificent head of hair, and Steve’s cock twitches in his hand. 

*

“Eddie.” 

Eddie chuckles, teeth grazing the shell of Steve’s ear. He always loves it when Steve says his name, but especially like this. Like a plea. Like a prayer. 

“Hm, baby? What do you need?” 

“Please,” Steve babbles, then swallows and licks his lips, remembering he’s supposed to use his words. “Please, I need to come.” 

“Aw, honey,” Eddie laughs, caressing the curve of Steve’s ass. They’re still lying on their sides, Eddie’s leg wedged firmly between Steve’s thighs, Steve panting into the crook of his neck. His cock is rock-hard in the tight confines of his jeans. Hard just from humping Eddie’s leg, just from Eddie whispering sweet filth in his ear, Eddie’s hands and lips teasing him in all those places he likes to be teased. “But your half hour isn’t even close to over.” 

Steve moans, desperate and broken, and it’s the most delicious sound in the world. When he rocks his hips to grind himself against Eddie’s leg, Eddie cups his ass to pull him flush against him, and the moan turns into a sob. 

“Fuck it, I can’t- … Please, Eddie, I’m so close, I need to- Please, please, please let me come.”

Did Eddie mention he’s the luckiest motherfucker in the whole goddamn world? 

“Of course you may come, Stevie,” he says, brushing back a sweaty strand of chestnut hair and kissing Steve’s temple. “Go ahead.” 

Steve does before he even finishes the sentence, shattering apart with a hoarse scream, and Eddie takes him by the jaw to guide him into a long, languid kiss, licking the sound right out of his mouth. He continues to kiss him while Steve trembles through the aftershocks, only pulling him against his chest when he finally collapses in a boneless heap. 

“Feeling better now?” 

“So much better,” Steve slurs. His smile is bright and off-kilter as he leans up for a peck on the lips. “There’s only one small problem.” 

“Oh? What’s that?” Eddie yawns, stretching his arms above his head and making himself comfortable in the pillows. 

Steve shifts, the movement warm and sticky against Eddie’s leg. 

“Well, I definitely need to shower now,” he declares. “But I’m still so fucking tired. I’ll be lucky if I even manage to undress, leave alone clean myself up.” 

Eddie stares at him. “What, seriously? Fifteen minutes ago, you were ready to fall asleep on me and now you want seconds?” 

“You got a problem with that?” Steve winks, tangling their hands together and pulling him off the bed and towards the bathroom. “I thought my wish was your command.” 

And well … Eddie can’t really argue with that, can he? 

More smutty September

[euphoricfilter]

can we have night thoughts “fucking with jeon jungkook?” his new calvin klein photo make me wanna fuck him so bad. wanna feel some hard harsh rough fuck with jungkook. 🫢

yes we can!! and i’m thinking of the car photos 🕺‼️

(i love the middle photo so much)

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. night short #16

tonights night thought is about jungkook who loves spontaneous car sex, and then stuffing your pussy with your panties!!! because he also loves his car and doesn’t want the seats ruined!!!

it would be jungkook’s idea to go stargazing, both of you laid out on the hood of his car, on top of a hill somewhere. an innocent kiss turning a little more desperate, a little more messy.

both with spit slicked lips. your tongue prodding his lip rings, soft lips bruising as jungkook leans over you. hands wandering under your shirt. and he’d letting out a desperate moan as his hands skim over your bare skin

and of course it would escalate from there, his jacket long forgotten on the hood of the car as you both stumble towards the back seat, jungkook almost tripping over as he yanks the door open

your clothes flung over towards the front seat in a frenzy, hands wandering in sacred places

his hands squeezing your tits, kisses pressed over your chest. so much raw lust and love seeping from every pore of his body as he kisses you in places only he’s allowed to see

jungkook’s fingers would tug at your panties, pulling the waistband up so the crotch is swallowed by your folds, a gentle kiss pressed to your covered clit. and you’d rut your hips up, a moan tumbling off your lips at the stimulation. mean laugh rolling off jungkook’s tongue as he makes you get yourself off that— making you beg for his cock

you’d fumble with jungkook’s underwear, chucking them somewhere behind you as your fingers wrap around his cock, nudging the head between your slick folds. running it over your clit as your free hand holds his shoulder for support

he’d wrap his arms around you, letting your hips stutter against his cock, the prettiest little moans clawing up your throat before you lift your hips ever so slightly and sink down on his length.

ever so pretty as you ride him, and he’d know when you’d start to get tired, fingers digging into your flesh as he helps you bounce on his cock.

he’d stave off his orgasm long enough for you to cum, only to then lay you back across the seats with your legs wrapped around his waist

neither of you would care about how roughly the car was rocking, nor the headlights that shine through the back window momentarily before it goes dark again. unashamed moans enough of an indication for the strangers to give you your privacy as you near the precipice of your please, jungkook so close behind you

the windows would be fogged up, bodies sweat slicked, and jungkook’s cock drenched in your arousal. he would tug your body towards him with every thrust, worried you were to smack your head against the door as your fingers claw down his back

and you’d slip over the edge of your second orgasm, position pushing his cock right over your sweet spot, gush of cum wetting jungkook’s stomach as his fingers thrum over your clit, lips sucking at the tender skin of your neck

his head would tip back, cock twitching at the fact you’d been able to squirt, always so wet and messy. your creamy arousal clinging to the base of his cock each time he pulled out of you

and you’d feel his cock twitch, wet smack of his hips becoming less calculated as he buries his cock as far inside you as he possibly can, painting your walls with his cum that he thrusts back into you slowly, your thighs twitching at the building overstimulation

he’d fumble around the front seat for your pantries, stuffing them into your pussy so his cum doesn’t leak onto the seats as he drives the both of you home. holding your hand, obviously. <3 (and a kiss to the cheek for being such a cutie)

night thoughts masterlist

[sturniholo]

falling down pt 2 - matt sturniolo

in which you and matt make up after your heated argument

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

Seven days. It's been seven days since you've last heard from Matt. He hadn't bothered to stop by your house, let alone even call. Even Nick and Chris called to check up on you. But you were used to this. Whenever Matt got upset, especially at you, he would distance himself. He would rather disregard the problem rather than try to fix it. And even though you would rather talk about things, Matt could be stubborn.

Most of the last seven days have been spent in bed, overthinking. What could you have done differently? Were you not giving enough? Those thoughts consumed you every second of every day. And it was safe to say you were running out of tears to cry.

A loud buzz took you out of your thoughts, making you sigh. You grabbed your phone from your bedside table, eyes slightly squinting from the bright light. Matt's contact photo appeared on the screen, making you let out a breath. Reluctantly you pressed accept and brought your phone up to your ear. The other end was quiet for a second before Matt spoke.

"Hey," he said with a deep breath. Based on his tone, you could tell he had been crying, which made your stomach slightly drop.

"Hi, Matt."

"How's it going? You still mad at me?" For some reason, the way he asked made your blood slightly boil.

You let out a dry laugh. "That's what you're worried about? We haven't spoken in a week and you're focused on whether or not I'm mad at you?"

"Look, I didn't call just to argue, so if you're gonna be like that just hang up."

"No one told you to call me."

"Don't be a dick."

Another dry laugh left your mouth, making him scoff from the other end. "You've been nothing but a dick to me, Matt. Don't try to turn this on me." The two of you sat in silence, only the sound of his breathing could be heard. "Well, I'm gonna go now if you have nothing to say," you said after a minute.

"Alright, bye." You pressed end call, not even bothering to tell him bye.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

Two more days had passed and nothing had changed. No text, call, facetime, nothing. This was the longest you had gone without seeing each other and it was starting to take a toll on you. You hadn't been eating properly, as you hadn't had an appetite. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy from how much you'd been crying.

However, you had found the motivation to get out of bed and get a glass of water from the kitchen. As you went to reach for a glass, the doorbell rang. You shut the cabinet with a sigh and made your way to the front door. What was waiting on the other side was unexpected. Matt was at the door, a subtle frown on his face. His hair was a total mess and he had dark circles under his eyes.

When you opened the door, Matt's heart broke. His eyes scanned over you, taking in how dreadful you looked. Your eyes were red and puffy, your lips were extremely chapped, and you had tear stains on your cheeks. He also took note of the hoodie you were wearing. It was one of his hoodies, which made him feel a little better about coming over.

"What are you doing here?" You leaned against the door, eyes on him, waiting for him to talk. 

"We need to talk. Can I come in?"

You moved out of the way, allowing Matt to come in. You closed the door behind him, closely following him to the kitchen. He stood near the counter, anxiously shifting on his feet. You stood opposite of him, arms crossed over your chest. He let out a deep breath before he spoke. "I'm sorry," he said lowly. 

As his words registered, you looked up at the ceiling. Matt had apologized to you countless amount of times, yet there was no change in his behavior. "How can I be sure?" Your voice was beginning to tremble. 

"Because I love you, Y/n, you know that." You put your focus back on him, letting your eyes meet his. His eyes were optimistic, hoping you would accept his apology. "I know I haven't been the best, and I apologize for that."

"I know you haven't." Your eyes began to water, making you sniffle. Matt walked over to you, pulling you into his arms. Your head rested against his chest, his chin resting on top of it. After a minute, you pulled away. "I just want you to prove it to me. Show up for me. Be there when I need you, Matt." Tears rolled down your cheek, making Matt wipe them away with the pad of his thumb. 

"I will, baby, I promise you." He took your face in his hands, looking down at you with eyes full of passion. "I'll make more time for you. Even if it is just spending time in bed, watching movies," he said with a chuckle. 

"I'd like that," you said with a small smile.

"You're my number one priority. I wanna make you feel that way." As Matt continued to talk, you couldn't help but smile up at him. He leaned in, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. The feeling of your lips against his once again made him smile into the kiss. 

He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. His eyes were still locked on yours, making you melt beneath him. "You know I wasn't being serious when I told you to leave, right?"

"I know," he said with a chuckle. "But that's why I love you. You keep me on my toes," he joked. You playfully rolled your eyes at him before pulling him in for another kiss.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

a/n: a happy ending just for y’all 🫶🏻😋

tags: @strnlsblog @sturnzsblog @starsturns234 @sunshine-sun42 @sturn59 @yo123itsme

[fxrmuladaydreams]

I need a smutty fic based on this photo

!! logan weekend requests are now closed !!

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! unprotected p in v

dear god that photo is hot, also this is the last blurb for logan weekend, regularly scheduled writing will continue tomorrow

Logan felt like he could finally breathe again after signing his Williams contract extension. He hated that he was the last driver to be signed for the next season, but was relieved when he was asked to come back for another year.

You leapt into his arms when he told you, pressing kisses all over his face. “I’m so so so proud of you Lo, you deserve that seat.” You tell him in between kisses.

You spend the night doting on him, making him his favorite meal, watching his favorite show, you do everything you can to make him feel good, all leading up to where you currently have him laying down on your bed as you kiss him, grinding your hips against his.

You pull his shirt off of him and let your hands run down his chest. You trace his v line then fiddle with the waistband of his jeans. He nudges your thigh, and tugs his pants and boxers off as you take your clothes off.

Your eyes spot his blue helmet sitting on the shelf against the wall. You turn back to your boyfriend with a small smile on your face.

“What?” He asks, as he lays back down on the bed.

You walk over to the shelf and pick the helmet up, examining it in your hands. The smooth carbon fiber is cool against your skin.

“Will you wear it?” You ask Logan.

“Wear it?” He laughs. “You want me to wear my helmet while we have sex? Do you think I’m going to get a head injury?” His tone is teasing.

“No. I want you to wear it while I ride you. Some girls wanna ride a Ferrari, but I want to ride a Williams.” You say holding up the helmet that brandishes the Williams team logo.

He stares at you silently, his mouth hanging open. You take his silence as an answer. You shake your head, putting the helmet back on the shelf.

“I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea.”

“Give me the helmet.” Logan holds his hands out.

You take the helmet and slowly place it in his hands. He gives you a smirk before pulling it over his head. He flips the visor down, then lays back with his hands behind his head.

“Come on. You wanted to ride a Williams.” He says. His voice is a little muffled from the helmet, but god it’s so hot.

You climb on top of him and slowly sink yourself down onto his cock, taking him inch by inch. You sigh when you’re fully seated on him and look down at him. He’s unmoving, clearly not planning on helping you do any of the work.

You slowly lift yourself up and down his cock. It feels different, more intense than usual, the fact that you can’t see his face adds a new type of thrill.

He watches from behind the visor as you ride him. He watches as you drop a hand down to play with your clit, and feels you getting tighter around him.

It’s getting harder to see, the visor fogging up from his warm breaths. He knows you’re close, as is he, so he uses a hand to lift the visor up.

You see the green eyes that you fell in love with just as you reach your peak. You ride him through your orgasm, coaxing one out of him too.

He pulls the helmet off as you lift yourself off of him. He drops the helmet to the floor next to the bed, deciding he’d rather put it back on the shelf tomorrow and just hold you close right now.

He does, tracing lazy patterns on your back as you do the same on his chest.

“Did you like that?” You ask him softly.

“Oh, we are definitely doing that again.” He laughs.

[willows-peak]

*･ﾟ✧ Sending Pics To Nanami

tags: fem! reader, established relationship, male masturbation, nanami fantasizes about you a lot, hand jobs, oral (m recieving), fingering, nanami fat cock truther, pet names (princess, dear, baby, sweetheart, beautiful) nanami talking you through it, mating press, overstim

word count: 2.6k

MDNI

a/n: i saw this drawing right here and almost imploded from horniness. enjoy

⋆｡˚ ♡ Nanami grunted as he nearly slammed the door of his house shut, his body falling against the cold wood as he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he was home. Home from the bright school lights, lessons all filed away and paperwork confirming the exorcism of all the curses he'd gotten rid of finished and forgotten about. While that alone would be enough to stress anyone out, he had the added pressure of his pants becoming impossibly tight this morning, thanks to you, and this little 'problem' managed to follow him through the whole day.

Nanami never tried to pretend you didn't have an effect on him, but sometimes, he was made aware of it at the worst of times like today.

You <3

> *4 image attachments*

> "good morning baby :) i've missed you all day, this trip is taking forever to be overr"

Nanami groaned under his breath as he stared at the photos you'd sent, wishing for a second he could reach through his screen and tear off the panties and shirt you were wearing, his shirt no less. Photos highlighting the beautiful way your body curved out around your hips, your thighs pooling out from the position you had yourself in. Shirt pulled up just enough for him to see your breasts falling out from the loose fitting fabric, your face making it into the frame enough for him to see your adorably pouty lips.

Nanami

> "You look gorgeous, dear. I miss you too, we can talk after work today."

His tone over text was always calm, and to the point. If you didn't know him, you wouldn't ever guess he was palming his half hard erection through his slacks, sighing out your name into his empty room as he stared at the phone in his hands, not even risking blinking in fear of missing the details of your body.

But, just his luck. His eyes regretfully broke contact for a moment, long enough to see the time at the corner of his phone. He'd risk running late if he didn't finish getting dressed, regardless of the hard on he was sporting now. So, he was all but forced to readjust his cock up to his shirt, making sure it was unnoticeable before zipping up his pants and hurriedly throwing on his jacket to his car.

And, being the responsible and collected man he is, he didn't even entertain the idea of getting off in any nearby bathrooms or break rooms, even when the throbbing of his hard on was making his brain cells fuzz out by the minute. You really did have him wrapped around your little finger, just a few pictures and he was glaring daggers at the clock sitting next to his desk. Your body didn't leave his mind the entire day, Nanami thanking whatever granted him mercy that today wasn't a day he'd have to speak to anyone, because by god was that not in his available schedule right now.

His hands clenched together as another flash of your naked breasts ran through his mind, everything in him almost screaming to come up with an excuse to leave early and fuck his fists to you until he could calm down. Try and pretend it was your pussy tightening around him as he pushed you into another orgasm, a thick ring of cream forming around the base of his cock as he fucked you though your release-

Nanami threw his head back in frustration as his cock twitched yet again, grumbling and forcing his mind to focus on the work in front of him.

~☆.｡.*

The moan that fell from Nanami's lips at the feeling of his thick hand groping his bulge almost startled him, temporarily making him lucid enough to move to his bedroom to take care of himself. at least he already had tissues in there..

His jacket was the first to be torn off his body, being tossed carelessly to the otherwise tidy floor beside his dresser, his goggles joining the small pile soon afterwards. The cold air of his room washed over him for all but a moment before the overwhelming heat of arousal came back to him, making him hastily unbutton his shirt while he reached for his tie, wrapped snug around his neck. A light sheen of sweat had formed on his chest, tiny droplets clinging to the short hair sitting on the valley of them. He swore through clenched teeth as he threw the thin piece of cloth to the side as well.

Without the support of his boxers, his cock leaned down into the air in front of him, the tips of his fingers able to feel the soft pulsing of the bulging vein resting on its side. He almost felt remorse at the way his hand could so easily wrap around his girth, large fingers reaching base to tip too quickly for his liking. It was nothing like how you did it, your smaller hands struggling to make your fingertips meet as you stroked him as best as you could.

Nanami's hands clambered in his pockets before pulling out his phone, the screen warm from the contact of his thigh all day long. He knew he wouldn't be able to relieve himself without seeing you, not when you were the one who made him like this in the first place. Your photos sat there, unchanged and making his already foggy head spin wildly. He'd left the page of your messages stuck on his screen in his morning rush to work, not daring to close out and lose the sight of your perfect body sitting pretty all for him.

He fumbled with his zipper for a quick second before getting it down, his button popping off and allowing the tough fabric to fall down to the middle of his thighs. "That's right.." he muttered, his hand freely squeezing and stroking over his boxer covered dick now. With the awkward angle it had been adjusted to, the waistband of his underwear had been stained with pre cum, a thin strand of the liquid connecting his tip to the bottom of his abdomen. A quiet 'fuck' made its way out of his lips as his hand pulled the wet fabric down, his cock finally free from its restraints.

And you'd always try so hard, too. your brows would furrow as you tried your best to make your hand fit around him, squeezing down near the base where he was thickest before letting up at his tip. Your other hand was almost always occupied as well, either joining to work his shaft while you slowly licked across the slit of his head, or reaching down to massage his heavy balls and meeting his hungry gaze with your needy one.

Nanami's brow lowered as he pumped his cock, a rough and quick pace as the tension throughout his body didn't seem to go away just yet. He squeezed the now red tip of his length, a droplet of pre cum coming out and painting his hand. The hand that was wrapped around himself now reached to his side where a small bottle of lotion rested, pumping out a few globs before slathering it across himself. As his hand continued squeezing and rubbing up and down, his mind continued wandering to how you worked your mouth around him.

How your mouth would so slowly wrap around him, inch by inch sinking into your mouth and down your throat as his hand came to rest in your hair, playing with it while your nose eventually came to meet with the thin patch of blond hair around his cock. Your pretty lips would be so stretched, too, lines of drool forming and falling freely as he'd use the grip on your hair to carefully move your head backwards.

~☆.｡.*

Your tongue would curl up and caress the underside of his cock, Nanami feeling the way you'd smile when he'd moan your name under his breath. Your throat was so tight, deliciously constricting around him every time he'd push your head back forwards. The way he could catch glances at your fingers rubbing against your pussy through your shorts, cut off moans and sloppy half gags echoing through the room as he held your head still in favor of fucking your throat himself. And you'd take it all, eyes dusting over with tears from the pressure and looking up at Nanami through your long, and soft lashes.

Nanami has slumped down onto the floor at this point, groaning and panting into the thick air surrounding him as he stared at the photos on his screen. The fact that you were wearing his shirt of all things was lighting a flame in him he didn't know he had, his eyelids lowering as his memory gifted him with the last time you'd worn his shirt around him. How it so quickly devolved into you, nestled onto your bed with your legs spread wide and whining at Nanami to fuck you already. His fingers were smoothly scissoring inside of you, a quiet squelching noise reaching your ears and making you flush.

And he'd always feel so bad afterwards, when he could see the aftermath on your face. Cheeks wet with drool and tears, taking deep and short breaths through your puffy lips with his cum making them glisten brightly. But you would always smile up at him, thanking him with a raspy voice and leaning into his palm as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, wiping away any remnants of his cum from your soft lips.

~☆.｡.*

He was resting against your neck, pressing small and casual kisses all across the skin as he shushed you gently. "I've got you princess, it's ok.. you know you need this" he reminded you, chuckling at the way you tightened around his fingers from the basey purr of his voice right next to your ear. Through more begs and whimpers of his name, Nanami would eventually deem you stretched out enough and finally push himself into your wet cunt. And it would always take every amount of restraint he possessed to not move, a true gentleman to the end for you.

"Nanamiii....s' too bigg..'' You squeaked out, hands now tightly holding your thighs to your chest as Nanami bottomed out inside you. But he knew you could do this, you've taken him countless times before, you could do it again. And he would hold your face with his steady palms, pressing his lips to yours as he talked you through the adjustment.

“That’s right, beautiful, relax for me.”

“Breathe for me, in through your nose, out through your mouth”

“You’re doing so well for me..”

“I’m right here baby, I’ve got you”

~☆.｡.*

“Stay with me, sweetheart…Theerre she is”

“Move your hips down, show me how you want it.”

“I know dear, I know.” while he brushes stray strands of hair out of your warm and flushed face.

His hand came down hard to the base of his dick, the wet sound of his precum and the lotion almost mimicking the way your pussy would sound as he bullied himself into you. The way you’d squeak and moan out loudly as his hips snapped down into you, thighs quivering from strain but you would still hold them up for him as he fucked you senseless. Nanami could never get enough of the way your mouth would fall open into an ‘O’ shape as he fucked into you, the head of his cock rubbing up against your g-spot with such precision that you couldn’t hope to last long.

“Fuck, n-nanamiii, don’t- oh m-my god, don’ sstop, ye-es” your eyes could never stay facing forwards when he was fucking you like this, his hips pistoning deeper inside you with every thrust it felt like, his hands tightly gripping onto your hips as he yanked you up and down to meet his thrusts halfway. Sweat started to form on his forehead, abs clenching as he took breaths through gritted teeth. “Stay still, don’t run from this…” he’d growl out, your body squirming around too much for him to fuck you properly.

~☆.｡.*

Nanami, through bucks into his hand and husky calls of your name, fails to notice his fingers hovering dangerously close to the call button next to your profile. You were so close, at the mere press of a finger he would be able to hear your sweet voice again, regardless of the poor quality of the phone’s speaker. He could feel himself growing close, his stomach tightening and his body curling into itself as he fucked his fist for you.

“Jus’ like that, fuck yes..” he whispered to himself, his grip loosening on his phone as he let his eyes close. His fantasies were much too strong to rip away from, especially from how well he remembered the feeling of your wetness dripping out of you onto his balls. And how your hole would try and suck him in when you got close, weakly pulsing around him as you messily begged him to make you cum. “Kento, kento, b-baby, ple-ase i need it, don’ stop-” your sentences were hurried, words being constantly thrown together and cut off by moans and cries as Nanami pushed into you.

His thumb found your clit with practiced ease, rubbing rough circles against it and relishing in the way your shut tight eyes would shoot open in surprise and then roll back with overwhelming pleasure, head tossing back and your back arching as you came around Nanami. Your cum dripped and oozed out of your stretched wide hole and coating Nanami’s cock as he fucked you through it, shushing you and holding you with his free arm as you shook and whimpered out.

“Shhh, t-take it baby, just like that.. Feels good huh?” he’d ask, grinning at the way you choked out a yes and nodded up at him, your body still racked with the aftershocks of your orgasm along with his mean thrusts. “Inside, innsidee, k’nto, give it t’ me, i wan’ itt, oh gggodd-” you’d cry out, sniffling and squirming back at the overstimulation starting to set in. Thankfully for you, Nanami could never last long when you came like this.

~☆.｡.*

A loud moan left Nanami’s lips as his cock throbbed harshly, his orgasm crashing down on him as thick ropes of cum beaded out of his dark red head, covering his palm and thumb as he continued to move his hips up into his hand through his orgasm. His head came to rest against the hard wood of his door, his orgasm slowly tapering down as his body was drained of energy. He let out a long, broken sigh, his hips finally stilling and letting his cock rest on his palm.

He took a minute or so to catch his breath, using the arm that held his phone to wipe his mouth of the drool that managed to escape his lips when he left them parted. Blowing out a deep sigh, he glanced down at the mess he’d made between his legs and noted that his cum had thankfully stayed to the floor and his thighs, avoiding his pants or his belt. His phone blinked silently, indicating he’d received a message. He scoffed out in annoyance, automatically assuming it to be Gojo or his supervisor informing him of yet another week’s worth of filing he was assigned to.

He slid his lockscreen open, noticing the notification had been from you when checking and fixing the scowl that unknowingly made it on his face.

You <3

> 2 images, 1 video

> sorry, i’ve been needy all day without you :(

Nanami, after a few seconds of silently staring at the unopened video, decided to skip the formalities of replying and instead pressed the call icon after seeing you begin to type. 

[vettelsvee]

THIS IS ALL MY FAULT | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

sebastian vettel x platonic!photographer!reader

based on this request: Okay! So after watching the run Sebastian organized at Imola, I has the idea of reader being someone that works for him (not sure what for though) maybe getting really sick for running in the rain that day, which ends up with Sebastian feeling guilty over it. It’s a silly idea, really, but I think it has a lot of potential to vibes similar to what Sebastian seems to have with the drivers, kind of playing dad to the grid 🥺.

summary: you work as a photographer during the forever senna tribute seb prepared, but you end up being sick

word count: 1618

warnings: none of them really! seb feeling guilty because he thinks reader got sick because of him.

a/n: I'm finally back! sorry for not posting at all during all this past month, university has had me really stressed but I'm finally free from it until september! idk if this is actually something well written because i haven't written anything for a month! also, hope you anon like this even it's definitely crap 😭

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The rain kept falling on the circuit, but that wasn't such an excuse for Sebastian and his team to cancel what they had been working on for months.

The run that the retired driver had decided to organize on Thursday not only with Formula 1 drivers, but also with those from Formula 2 and 3, and even other members of the sport, in honor of Ayrton Senna and Roland Ratzenberger, was more than perfect. It was an absolute success. And Sunday, when Vettel would drive the car that once belonged to the Brazilian pilot who died 30 years ago on that same circuit, hadn't even arrived yet.

You had been busy taking photos of everything, as you were Sebastian's official photographer. Now, you were gathering all the equipment you had used because the cold you were enduring was barely bearable. You had been out in the rain all day, following Seb wherever he went, which had made you feel increasingly worse. Now, your hands couldn't stop shaking, and you felt like you were about to faint at any moment.

"Y/N, are you okay?" one of the team members asked.

"Yes, of course," you replied with a weak smile. "I'm just a bit cold. I'll be back to be the same me as soon as we get back to the hotel."

The man nodded, not wanting to press you further despite not being very convinced by your words after seeing your completely pale face.

You decided to continue with your work, ignoring anyone who approached you to exchange even the slightest word. You tried to ignore the growing headache, the fatigue, and the tightness in your chest, which seemed to be worsening. Although the rain had stopped and you were in one of the garages, the sky remained dark.

You were surprised to see Sebastian, still wearing a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, just a few meters away from you. You shook your head, trying not to pay attention, and certainly not to worry. He was just your "boss," so to speak, and he was old enough to know what he needed to do to avoid getting sick. Well, he also had Britta, who was like a second mother to him.

A sharp pain pierced your temples. You staggered slightly, and if it hadn't been for your momentum making you lean your back against the wall behind you, you would have fallen to the ground.

"For God's sake, Y/N, you look terrible," he said as calmly as he could, though you could sense his nerves in his tone of voice. "You should go and have a rest. Like… now."

"Seb, we still have a lot to do. It's not just packing up the equipment, but also transferring the photos to the computer, editing them, then preparing the posts for you Instagram account..."

"Y/N, I love your work, but you've done more than enough for today," he interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, running his fingers carefully over it. "Now, I'll talk to Britta and we'll assign it to someone who knows what they're doing, okay?"

For a moment, you considered protesting, reproaching him that this was your job, and that's why he wanted you on his team since shortly before leaving Aston Martin, but the way he looked at you made you stop. He seemed worried, very worried. That's why you ended up not only reluctantly accepting but also letting him guide you to a nearby chair.

"Stay here. I'll bring you something warm."

As you watched Seb walk away, you sighed, managing to relax somehow. You saw him enter the Red Bull hospitality, and you assumed it was where he felt most comfortable. A few minutes later, you saw the blonde with two small steaming cardboard cups. As he reached your height, he offered you one of them.

"Thank you," you murmured, wrapping your hands around the cup and taking a sip. Chocolate, something you loved, and Seb knew it perfectly.

"Do you promise you'll go back to the hotel as soon as you finish your hot chocolate?"

"I promise," you assured him. "But I can't promise that..."

"Y/N, just no work for today," he cut in, seeing that you weren't going to fulfill what you had promised. "I want you to spend today and tomorrow resting. Sunday will be a tough day for us. You can do it, at least for me, or am I wrong?"

You nodded your head as if you were seven years old again. You knew you were going to rest as much as you could in your hotel room, but that didn't mean you weren't going to do anything. As you had already planned, you were obviously going to continue with your work. You couldn't disappoint Sebastian, not on such an important weekend like this.

[...]

Sebastian accompanied you to the door of your room, and despite having exchanged a couple of messages with you on Friday, having let you rest all afternoon and part of Saturday morning, and having agreed that you would come to a meeting room in the hotel at 12pm on Saturday to finalize the details of tomorrow's tribute, he didn't see you there.

"Have you seen Y/N?" he asked Britta directly, a little distressed. "She told me she would come with no doubt."

"And she did come," the ex-pilot's PR commented, "but I sent her back to her room as soon as I saw her shivering. Her forehead was burning, and she said she had a slight fever. It wasn’t just a slight fever, Seb," Britta assured him.

The man nodded but became even more worried. Quickly bidding farewell to Roeske, he headed towards your room. He saw the door slightly ajar, possibly your mistake. He knocked softly before entering, and the sight that greeted his eyes made him feel bad instantly.

You were curled up in bed, trembling uncontrollably. You had a small towel on your forehead with cold water to see if you could control your body temperature since you couldn't take your medicine again until the corresponding hours had passed, which was already the next day.

Your face was completely flushed, and your breathing was labored.

As soon as you realized Seb's presence, your eyes welled up with tears. You tried to force a smile, but all that came out were tears from how bad you felt not only for Seb to see you like this but also for ruining something so important.

"Seb... You didn't have to come," you stammered, your voice barely audible.

"Of course, I did! Don't be ridiculous!" he responded quickly, sitting beside you. He placed a hand on your forehead and realized Britta was right. "My God, Y/N, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling so bad?"

"I... didn't want to worry you," you admitted between tears of frustration and exhaustion. "Tomorrow is an important day. You need to be resting to give your best tomorrow. There are people who have come just for you, Seb, you can't let them down."

You noticed him tense a bit at the mention. His lips curved, and his jaw tightened. He took a deep breath and took your hand almost without thinking.

"This is my fault..." he whispered softly. He seemed overwhelmed with guilt, and much of it. You cursed yourself for making him think that when it was all really your fault. "Nothing is more important than your health, Y/N. I'm so sorry, really..."

"Seb, it's okay, really. These things happen; it's completely normal. There's probably someone else like me..."

His silence was the response you partly expected, but it didn't hurt until you saw him shake his head.

"I just wanted to give my best so that the photos would turn out perfect and you would have content worthy of all the work you've put into this..." was all you could say.

"You're already the best, Y/N," he said softly, tucking a strand of hair away from your face. "In fact, you're so perfect that you should stop being so perfect to start worrying more about yourself. And since you don't worry about yourself... let me do it for you, okay?"

Although you didn't agree with him and didn't believe you deserved his praise, you were too weak to argue.

Sebastian stayed with you all day, including the night. He made sure you were as comfortable as possible, brought you water, and soaked the cold cloth in water to lower your fever as soon as possible, miraculously something that worked. He didn't leave your side, not even when you had a coughing fit or sneezed without covering your mouth.

Your fever began to lower in the late hours of that day. Your breath calmed down, and the color seemed to return to your cheeks. Seb sighed with relief, quickly hugging you while continuously placing small kisses on your face and playing with your hair, making you laugh incessantly.

After ordering room service for dinner, since your appetite seemed to have returned, you fell asleep, at least apparently. To avoid disturbing you, Seb went from lying down next to you to reclining on a sofa next to the bed. His eyes were heavy with tiredness, but that didn't stop him from staying alert in case you needed his help.

"Rest, Y/N," he whispered, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before caressing it. "I guess I'll have to take you out to dinner for the damages I caused."

You smiled at the last thing Seb had said, grateful that every time you got sick, you didn't fall into a deep sleep, and wishing that what Seb had said was true.