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#drop the link ❤️
kikker-oma · 11 months
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Thank you @skyloftian-nutcase for giving me the prompt and for letting me kind of base it off of Elastic Heart❤️
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marciliedonato · 2 years
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CAUSE WE ALL WANT TO PARTY WHEN THE FUNERAL ENDS...
Credit (@ jmfstopimages on ig)
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classicsmosh · 1 year
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[X]
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unsettledspirits · 5 months
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I am eventually going to delete this blog, starting over on a new multi. Once it is up and running I’ll drop the promo ❤️ for now I can be found on my other blogs.
@safestkittykatintown
@zoomingupthathill
@thesacrificialxlamb
@kingofthecornermarcel
@wavrlynatural
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reigningmax · 2 years
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His apartment is back listed on the market and they bought a new home that they were renovating and seemed to have been moving into recently
Oh 👀👀👀👀👀👀
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denscani · 2 years
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Hey! This is the author of “All we did was kiss, on my grave I swear”. I’m not dead, and I updated! I’m planning to write a third chapter soon, hope you enjoy :D https://archiveofourown.org/works/35326432
Hey anon!
Glad to hear you're not dead ❤️ and that you've got an update. The second chapter was great and looking forward to the next one for sure.
For anyone who hasn't read it, this is the fic (linking to the update for those who want to read the latest chapter)-
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bitchesuntitled · 4 months
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Wrong Delivery
Summary: Sleepin' with the hot construction guy doing the remodel at your work, he winds up buying flowers for someone else...
Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI go on get! No outbreak/pre outbreak(you decide), fluff, smut, miscommunication, cussing, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv(don't do that, make smart choices), cream pie, Joel being a dork.
A/N: First time I've ever actually finished a Joel story I started working on! Many thanks to @strang3lov3 for the encouragement and taking a look at this, @jay-zzle as always for giving me ideas and making moodboards for me because I hate doing them myself! ❤️❤️❤️
🌹This is for @morallyinept’s flora & fauna challenge! 🌹
Divider provided by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist||AO3 Link
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As you rush into the building, trying to avoid the construction team surrounding the place, a timid smile crosses your face when you spot Joel, the man responsible for why you’re running late this morning. Instead of getting ready for work like you were supposed to, Joel Miller decided he wanted to spend his morning coaxing another orgasm out of you, as if the three last night weren’t enough. It’s been a couple of months of this. 
It had never been your intention to start sleeping with the hot contractor who had been doing construction at your place of work, you both just happened to be at the same bar one night. One thing led to another and now it’s been this, whatever this is.
“Mornin’ guys,” you say passing the crew, each giving their own sort of greeting back, be it a grunt of acknowledgment or repeating the greeting.
“Mornin’ ma’am,” Joel says with a cheeky smile, “Runnin’ a little late?”
“Yeah, woke up late,” you shrugged, feeling your face heat up.
“There you are!” Becky shouts, making her way towards you, “Angie is up my ass right now about where you are with those reports you said you’d get done yesterday.”
“On it,” you sigh, “Nice talking to you Joel.”
“Oh!” Becky said with a smile, grabbing his bicep, “Hi Joel! You guys sure have been working hard on all of this.”
You try to keep your eyes from rolling at Becky’s consistent attempt at flirting with Joel. She has definitely tried her hardest to get his attention, made cookies “for the crew” but only handed some of them to Joel, tries to talk to him every chance she can, wearing lower cut tops so her cleavage is on full display, batting eyelashes and laughing at any dumb thing he says. It’s starting to get on your nerves, if you’re being honest. Making your way to your desk you open the drawer, shoving your purse inside before closing it and turning on your computer. You open the teams app, sending Angie a quick message to let her know you’ll put the file with the reports in the folder outside her door, grabbing the file and making your way to her office.
Becky is still talking Joel’s ear off and you have to stifle your laugh, watching his eyebrows scrunch together and his polite nod before excusing himself. She catches you as you're on your way back to your cubicle to start the work day.
“That Joel Miller is a man,” Becky sighs, walking beside you, “The things I would let him do to me.”
“Oh jeez,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting down at your desk.
“I wonder what his dick is like,” she continues, “I bet it’s big.”
You turn to your computer hoping she can’t see the look on your face because then the jig would be up.
“Uhm,” you say, clearing your throat, “You better be careful. Don’t wanna get turned into HR.”
“Hello,” a frazzled delivery guy announces himself at the entrance to your cubicle. “I have a delivery for you, miss.”
“For me?!” Becky asks excitedly, seeing the bouquet of flowers. The delivery guy nodded, handing her the flowers. “Who are they from?!”
“Uh… Joel Miller?” The guy says, looking at his sheet. Your jaw drops upon hearing his words. Why on earth would Joel send Becky flowers?
“Oh my god!” Becky squeals with delight, grabbing the card, “Aw! Look! It says darlin’ on the envelope!”
Becky opens the card, reading it aloud:
“Figured a pretty lady like you should have some flowers to look at. Been havin’ the time of my life gettin’ to know ya and would love to take you out. He signed it off with a heart and J. Miller! How sweet is that?!”
Beside yourself on handling this, the only thing you could think of was finding the man himself. If this entire thing between you two was just for fun so be it, but you needed answers.
“Real sweet,” you mutter standing up, “I’m…  uh… I’ll be back.”
“Okay.” Becky hums dreamily, staring at the flowers on her desk.
You make your way to the front of the building, spotting Gus, one of the construction guys.
“Can you tell Joel I need to talk to him?”
“Sorry ma’am, he had to leave earlier, something about Tommy.” Gus shrugs. 
“Uhm… okay.” You nod, deciding to make your way to the breakroom, sitting at one of the tables trying to collect your thoughts. Maybe it’s for the best that he left. That way the entire building wouldn’t see you blow up. Are you even still supposed to see each other tonight? That had been the plan when he left this morning. What the actual fuck, you think to yourself, give annoying ass Becky flowers to ask her out, and then fuck you? That two-timing son of a bitch!
“So fucking stupid,” you mutter to yourself.
You make it through the workday, as best as you can, trying not to think of Joel and how mad you are all while Becky continues to talk about him all day. What should she wear, wondering where he’d take her, what they would do, should she sleep with him on the first date. Hopefully, the Excedrin will kick in soon to help with the teeth grinding headache you’ve had all day. Walking to your car Becky’s shrill voice rings out wishing you a good evening.
“Yeah, you too,” you grumble, pulling your car door open and throwing your purse inside. You’re still so mad, fuming, seeing red as you drive towards your place. Once getting home, you quickly change into comfy clothes, and see you have a text from Joel.
JMiller: Can’t wait to see you beautiful ;) Leavin’ Tommy’s
You scowl looking at the text. How do you even respond to that? Petty, that’s how.
You: K.
You see the text bubbles pop up, disappear then pop up again before his face shows on your screen with an incoming call.
“Hello,” you snap.
“Hey,” Joel says hesitatingly, “Bad day at work?”
“Well, Becky got some lovely flowers delivered at work.”
“Oh?”
“Yep,” you say with a harsh pop at the end.
“And?” Joel asks, “Is that it?”
“Delivery guy and card said they were from you.”
“Fuck me,” Joel groans “Those were not for goddamn Becky!”
“Sure about that?”
“I got them for you.” Joel argues.
“Yeah, okay.” You huff into the receiver, rolling your eyes. “Look, I get it. It’s fine if you didn’t want this going anywhere but you could’ve been honest with me about it.”
“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel groans, “I do want this going somewhere! Like I said, the flowers were for you!”
“Sure,” you say, shaking your head, “Just be honest, Joel. This has just been fun, that’s it. You’re getting your dick wet, stringing me al—“
“God damn it! I am telling the truth!” Joel growls, cutting you off. “I even have proof!”
“What proof?!” You spit back, “The proof of the flowers you sent Becky? Yeah, I saw them, and the card too. Sweet touch signing it off with a heart and then your name.”
Suddenly there is a knock on your door. You cock your head to the side, hearing the knock sound through the phone as well. Of fucking course, Tommy’s is a five minute drive to your place, making your way to the door you swing it open to see Joel standing there. His nostrils flared, phone held up to his ear, dropping it and angrily stuffing it back into his pocket.
“Just give me five minutes, I swear, they were meant for you and I have fuckin’ proof,” Joel says, holding up a piece of paper.
“What the fuck, Joel?” You groan, smacking your phone onto the entry table.  “Why are you here?”
“I was on my way home from Tommy’s. Figure I’d come here first,” Joel says, holding the paper out to you, “Go on, look at it.”
You grab it, glancing it over. Farrah’s Flowers printed at the top, with your name listed as the order’s recipient, eyes bulging out of your head as you look at him.
“Told you.”
“Wait, then how the fuck did they get to Becky then?”
“Somebody fucked up, that’s all I know but that is my copy of the receipt for buyin’ them in the first place, and that is your name on it,” Joel smirks in triumph, crossing his arms across his broad chest.
Your shoulders relax as you open the door wider, motioning your head for him to come in. He gives a subtle nod, making his way into your home, you slump against the door once it’s closed.
“Joel,” you start, “What the fuck are we?”
He cages you against the door, pushing his lower half into you. You sigh, looping your arms around his neck, looking at those dark chocolate eyes.
“Well,” Joel says, kissing your cheek, “I want you,” placing a soft kiss against your lips, “More than just for sex,” he whispers, against your lips breathing in each other's air causing you to feel a dizzying arousal. Lips collide with him in a hungry kiss, tongues rolling against one another, gasping when his hands creep down to hook around your thighs lifting you, grabbing onto your ass before pulling you away from the door and carrying you to your bedroom.
Joel lays you down on your bed hovering over you, never breaking away from your lips, licking into your mouth with desperation like this might be his last chance. Arousal begins pool in your underwear. Hands gliding down his back, feeling the warmth radiating from him, lifting the bottom of his shirt until he finally lifts to fling it off.
“Don’t want anyone else,” Joel husks, lightly biting your neck, causing you to moan at the sensation of his teeth against your skin, “Just you.”
“Joel,” you whimper as his hand travels down the length of your shirt, pushing it up to expose your tits, ducking his head down. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak before switching to give the other equal attention, kissing a trail down the soft flesh of your stomach until he reaches the top of your leggings.
“Can I?” He asks, looking at you, fingers hooking into your waistband. You give a firm nod and he pulls them off along with your underwear. He sighs once they are off, using his shoulders to spread your legs further apart, “So fucking pretty,” he hums, nipping and kissing along your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your center.
You can feel his breath against your folds, trembling with anticipation for his tongue and lips to make contact, letting out a soft moan Joel begins lapping at your folds, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth. Tongue massaging circles against your clit.
“Fuck,” you moan, raking your fingers through his hair and lightly tugging.
Joel’s hum reverberated into your core. His mouth opened and he began to fuck you with his tongue while firmly holding your gaze. You’re back arched at the sensation, letting out a gasp. You roll your hips against his face, his nose pressing deliciously against your clit. He grunts, moving his thumbs to spread your lips, licking a stripe up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. Your legs begin to shake at the sensation.
“Oh my god, Joel!” You whine, arching your back, feeling the band tightening within your core, begging for release. Joel sinks two of his thick fingers into you causing you to cry out, moving them to massage that sweet spot against your walls, “Yes! Oh my god, fuck!” You could feel the smug smirk on his face, knowing you’re about to come.
“Come on,” he coos, firmly licking your bundle of nerves “Let me have it baby.”
You cry his name out over and over as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing through you. He continues lapping at your folds, wanting to make sure he gets every last drop before you push his head away. He crawls up the length of your body, the denim of his jeans scratching against your skin.
“Good?” He asks, you nod giggling and he smirks, grabbing the nape of his neck you pull him closer to your face, looking into your eyes he whispers a hi. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, surging forward to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. He groans into your mouth, grinding his bulge against your center, the rough denim providing friction against your core. His hand moves to his belt, swiftly unhooking it and unbuttoning his jeans. Hands sliding down to help him push the denim off his hips, boxers following suit. You grip his hard length, stroking it from tip to base. Palm spreading the precome over his long thick length. Joel lets out a soft moan at the touch.
“Want you inside me,” you whimper, rubbing his cock against your slick heat. “Please.”
He bats your hand away, grabbing his cock to tease your folds more, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. You let out a moan when his tip catches against your entrance. Only for him to slide back up to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against you.
“Joel,” you begged, titling your pelvis, “Please, please fuck me.”
Joel smirks, sliding his cock back down to your entrance, feeding you his bulbous head. You writhe, feeling the stretch. He sinks into you slowly, filling you up until his tip kisses your cervix. Fingers gripping his back, each of you letting out a satisfied moan.
“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel murmurs into your neck, nipping and sucking on your pulse point, letting you adjust to his size, “Best pussy ever,” placing gentle kisses along your jaw.
“Joel, move,” you plead, hitching your legs up on his waist, “Need you to move.”
He pulls out slowly before snapping his length into you again, letting out a shaky breath at the harshness of his thrust. Your grip on his back tightens, sinking your nails into his skin. He lets out a hiss as he rocks his hips into you, trying to find that spot that makes you see stars. 
“Fuck,” he grunted, “Don’t want anyone else, darlin’.”
Breathy moans shared between kisses, sweat slicked skin gliding against each other. He pushes your thighs back further into a mating press, finding that sweet spot inside your walls.
“Oh my god,” you whine, back beginning to arch, “Right there!”
His cock massages that spot with every stroke, causing your muscles to tighten. You can feel the coil in your belly tightening, walls beginning to flutter around his shaft as he drills into that spot over and over.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel growls, feeling the heat of his skin slapping against yours, “I need you to come, baby. Ain’t gonna last much longer.”
You moan wantonly as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. Joel holding out to make sure you come first. The coil in your belly finally snaps, sending you over the edge, white hot electricity flowing through every limb. He thrusts into you harshly half a dozen more times before his hips stutter.
“Only you, darlin’, only want you,” he grunts, as he empties himself inside you, painting your walls with his sticky release, “only want you.”
Joel collapses, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of your head, nuzzling his nose against yours, placing soft kisses against your lips.
“Only want you,” he sighs.
You spent the next hour, in each other's arms, talking, snuggling and kissing.
“I can’t believe you would think I’d want Becky,” Joel booms with laughter, eyes crinkling around the edges. You smirk playfully, slapping his arm.
“Look,” you giggle, “I didn’t know if her flirting finally wore you down!”
“Hi Joel!” He says in an exaggerated high pitch, batting his eyelashes, “My, you sure have been working hard!” he adds with a girly giggle, lifting his pecs to create some sort of cleavage.
“Oh shut up!”
“Did you see the flowers though? Like actually look at ‘em?”
“Not really,” you sigh, playing with a loose thread on your blanket.
“Purple tulips for new beginnings and love,” Joel says, planting a kiss on your cheek, “Jasmine for devotion,” he continues, kissing your other cheek, “and pink roses for appreciation,” he smiles before kissing the tip of your nose.
“Really?”
“Yep, the florist helped me pick them out,” Joel says, grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss, “Told ya they were for you.”
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tvickiesims · 1 month
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4t2 Lovestruck Expansion Pack
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A fruit of our labour with @platinumaspiration (featuring moral support and useful advice from @lordcrumps 😀) is finally here!
Key features:
138 objects 24 beddings 7 seasonal plants 9 windows 6 doors 10 fences 2 arches 2 columns 69 floors 199 walls
Smoothed out meshes, no shine (except when necessary), quarter tile placeable;
All garden plants are seasonal, have undersides and all original recolors;
Fences are included but don’t show in the collection file because it’s not possible to add them.
Everything that doesn't look like deco and is meant to function - is functional (all lights light up; fans are animated; surfaces have slots; doors, windows and curtains have diagonal versions, book pile is functional, costume trunk is a wardrobe etc etc...);
Thank's to Nikki's perseverance, the guitar is functional too (requires Argon's Custom Instruments mod, included in the archive);
Picnic table was cloned from an object by Inge Jones. In order for sims to sit on the bench, you need either my edited version of Inge's Hidden Picnic Chair (called Tvickiesims_ijHiddenPicnicChair, included in the archive) or the original one from the link above). You'll also need her other mod called "IsChairABooth" (included in the archive).
My edit of Inge Jones' Hidden Picnic Chair was cleaned of some resources, has a new mesh, doesn't contain textures, is easier to grab and click, costs 0 (you already payed for the table) and becomes invisible in live mode (inspired by @lamare-sims's Invisible Kitchen Surface);
Wall fan and water tower reduce bills;
Armchairs and sofas have morphs (Nikki has my eternal gratitude💗);
Heart bed (Vibromatic Nuevo) vibrates and lights up 😏, all thanks to Nikki;
Basic Breakup Double Bed was turned into a blanket (works with @lamare-sims's Unmade Bed mod);
Most wallpapers were cut in half to preserve their patterns (thus their quantity). These walls have clear numbering system and will appear close to each other in catalog;
Romance Rendezvous Bar Back's mirror has wonky reflection. It can't be fixed;
Everything is separated between two collection files - one for buy mode and the other for build mode;
@lordcrumps' shadow file is required for the shadows to work (included, delete if you already have one copy in your downloads folder).
Buy mode:
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Build mode:
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Hidden Picnic Chair placement for the picnic table (like a normal chair basically, no cheats needed):
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Objects we didn't like enough to bother with (not converted):
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Compressed, meshes merged with recolors, clearly labelled, picture and collection files are included.
🫶💐❤️Download at SFS❤️💐🫶
UPDATE 19/08/2024
Edited Ash tree and Thunderclap to drop leaves in autumn, smoothed Thunderclap's trunk. Fixed Tri Aviary LoveSymphony Sculpture's one recolor.
UPDATE 20/08/2024
The Flame Of Love Candlestick and Sequence Of Love Candle Bunch had a small shadow issue, it's now fixed.
UPDATE 22/08/2024
Fixed Lovestruck Fountain's price (was set to 0).
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norrizzandpia · 7 months
Note
We’ve seen rabid lado’s girlfriend but what about rabid Lando about his girlfriend
Hi hello welcome back to the universe of feral!reader
Y/n’s Biggest Fangirl (Lando’s Biggest Fangirl Part 3) (LN4)
Summary: A look into the times when Lando was feral for his own girlfriend.
Warnings: suggestive comments, language, the drivers being scared and nervous for the sanity of lando and y/n, Alex says “kms” once and its very loosely used plz don’t do anything like that ever ty
Note: Here are the links to the other parts! Part 1 Part 2 also there is no face claim for this its just blonde, faceless women but you can imagine anyone <3
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landonorris if i speak….
Comments:
y/nnn oh! so j to fill everyone in, i sent this to him (one of my friends took it on a girls night) he responded back with some very… um… not safe for work messages
- Mclarensgirly leak them.
- landonorris she leaks them and my entire career is ruined fr
- f1fan2024 y/n. leak. them.
- y/nnn guys. yall know how crazed i am but even i wont leak these texts.
- Mclarensgirly 😟
- f1fan2024 🤨📸
oscarpiastri you are aware this is your MAIN insta account right?
- landonorris yes.
mclaren calling the psych ward brb
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landonorris who wants to guess where i wish my hand was
Comments:
oscarpiastri THIS IS YOUR MAIN FUCKING INSTA ACCOUNT
danielricciardo mate…
maxverstappen man wtf im just trying to enjoy my winter break
- f1fan34 MAX 😭
y/nnn lando i sent this picture to you out of kindness….
- landonorris and you think I’d do what with it??? Keep it in my camera roll??
y/b/f_username there’s something off balance in your brain but im happy you know how hot your girlfriend is 🔫
- landonorris SMOKIN. DROP DEAD. MOUTH WATERING. DELICIOUS. EXQUISITE. GODDESS. BEAUTIFUL. STUNNING. GORGEOUS. GOURMET.
- y/nnn why am i a meal
- landonorris cause i wanna eat you up
- alexalbon this interaction has made me want to rip my skin off #vomiting 🙁
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landonorris mommy
Comments:
alexalbon #kms
- oscarpiastri #😟
- danielricciardo #maininstaaccount
- landonorris #mygfishot
y/nnn alr babe that’s enough screen time for you today
- landonorris no <3
mclaren can we live?
Mclarensgirly uh…..
- op81andln4 ok but like… i want him to call me mommy
- Mclarensgirly that’s weird (I’d kill for him to call me mommy)
- oscarpiastri see what you’ve done landonorris?
- landonorris I don’t see a problem.
- maxverstappen GET THIS MAN TO THE ER JESUS CHRIST
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landonorris prettier than the Trevi Fountain 🫶🏻
Comments:
y/nnn i got the notification he posted, got terrified, then opened it and my heart warmed ☺️
- Mclarensgirly HER INSTA NOTIFS ARE ON FOR HIM 🤭
- landonorris so are mine for her tf
mclaren this works
- landonorris I’ll be back at it again soon dw
- oscarpiastri i will never get a chance to experience what true peace feels like.
F1fan2024 get you a man who will call you mommy and prettier than the trevi fountain on separate occasions in the span of a week
alexalbon i like this one!
- landonorris that’s my gf back off bitch.
- alexalbon damn.
y/nnn dw guys i just sent him another pic of me getting ready to go out with the girls
- landonorris BARK BARK
- danielricciardo #whereisthenearestbombshelter
- maxverstappen #itsover
- oscarpiastri #landomakesmescared
- landonorris #youwishyouwereme❤️
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rosyblooom · 6 months
Note
I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️
when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau
PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶
creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3
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yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others
charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️
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username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍
username all time favourite wag ! 🥰
yourusername ❤️❤️
(liked by author)
username ly girl🫶
username oh she won😩
username **they. they're both literally perfect omg username nah u right my bad🫡
scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳
username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him
username real
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others
yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂
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yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️
yourusername love u so much🥹
username queen🫶
username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌
username that's bc 27 IS young lol
charles_leclerc belle👸
yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧
username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername
yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌
iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗
yourusername my girl 🤍
Three weeks later...
tmz_tv
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liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others
tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.
In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.
During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.
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username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes
username a literal ray of sunshine🥹
username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶
username this doesn't feel real...
username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛
username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(
username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔
username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕
username sending prayers to the family 🙏
scuderiaferrari
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liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others
scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.
This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.
Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️
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8 months later...
Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.
If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.
As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.
A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.
Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.
Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.
He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.
The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.
Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.
“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.
“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”
Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”
Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”
“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.
“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”
Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.
“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.
“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”
“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”
“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.
"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."
Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."
Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."
Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”
Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.
“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”
Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.
Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.
“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.
Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”
“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”
Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”
Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”
The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.
Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.
A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.
“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.
Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.
“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.
Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”
Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.
“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”
“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”
He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”
“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.
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f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username and 14,296 others
f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.
Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.
We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.
view all 2,068 comments
username im so glad the fans kept to themselves
username right?? so respectful🫶
username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready
username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲
username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭
username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕
username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls
username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!
username 😭😭😭
4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44
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nourfamily1989 · 1 month
Text
A final cry from the heart of hell: Why are we condemned to die in silence? ⁉️ ❤️‍
"Hello my friends, I am Nour from Gaza, and I live here with 5 children who are suffering from the devastating effects of a fierce war. Mohammed, Bahaa, Amira, Joan and Ghazal face death and destruction every day, and I am looking for support to help them and provide them with a safe life. Our days have returned to the degraded state of life of early humans, crammed like piles of flesh into tents resembling scorching ovens. From morning until night we search for the same things to survive: water, food and fire. We endure long hours in line to get a tiny amount of water, and the food consists of old canned goods of poor quality. We sleep and wake up to the sounds of brutal planes, unsure of where they will strike next or who among us will be reduced to scattered remains. Here in Gaza, we live the worst life known to humanity Since its beginning. You are our only hope of escaping Gaza and its oppression. Please help me and my family find a safe place to live.
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I decided to create a campaign on GoFundMe to collect donations to provide the necessary assistance for my children and to evacuate them from the war environment in Gaza and travel to a place of safety.
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With the simplest donation, you can save my children and my family and bring them to safety Share the goodness and be a reason to save our lives I am asking all of you to contribute what you can, even if it is a small amount.
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There is no small donation, every drop of water means a lot to me and my children who are trapped in these difficult circumstances.
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Please participate in the campaign and share it with your friends and family. Together, we can change the lives of these children and bring them better opportunities in the future.
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Thank you for your🥰 support and solidarity in these difficult times. It would mean a lot to me to have you be part of this campaign and help me bring back hope and happiness to my beloved children. For donations,
please visit the following link🙏🙏👇👇
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@amygdalae @pointnclick @psygull @wolvierinez
@0047 silver
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jobean12-blog · 2 months
Text
Falling for the Forbidden
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female!princess reader (Pedro Pascal Gladiator II)
Word Count: 1,574
Summary: Having to hide your love away is difficult and each day it becomes more so...especially when all eyes are on the General.
Author's Note: I swear I will stop...someday. He's too gorgeous and perfect and with the trailer today I nearly died. This is along the lines of my other two stories I've written for him, A Warrior's Heart and Forbidden. You do not need to read them with this one but they are all the same reader. Thank you all so much for enjoying with me! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 😍
PS If anyone has any ideas they want to throw my way, feel free. Thank you 😘 Also, I'm trying to do my research but if I make any historical mistakes, I apologize.
Warnings: there's always soft sweetness under it all, tension, semi-public sex (although at that time I don't think it mattered much haha) but they are sneaking around!
This gif below is NOT MINE it's from @a7estrellas and I've linked the post! Thank you for gifting us with such beautifulness!
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Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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The streets of Rome are bustling with life. The market vendors’ loud voices ring out over all else and the smell of various wares fills your nostrils. Every time you walk by a stall the merchant shouts at you to buy something, shaking a fresh juicy fruit or something that catches the dying sun and sparkles like a diamond.
With a polite smile you decline and pull your hood higher up over your head, hoping to just slip through the crowd without notice.
Night dances along the horizon, casting long shadows onto the stone streets and filling the sky with pale pink and orange.
You pass by a fruit stand with baskets of sweet apples, red and shiny. Watching the vendor, you wait for a distraction and grab an apple, quickly stuffing it into the wide arm of your cloak.
Without a glance back you disappear into the darkness between the large stone pillars of a nearby building and press your back tightly to the wall. Your breathing stills and you wait.
Long minutes seem to pass in silence and just as you’re about to give up hope a large and strong hand closes around your wrist and yanks you away from the wall and down into the shadows of an alcove.
“Since when does the princess steal?”
His voice is smooth and deep, purring into your ear while he reaches inside your cloak to retrieve the apple.
You pluck it from his fingers and take a small bite, savoring the sweetness with a matching saccharine smile. A small trickle of juice slips from your mouth and down your chin. His dark eyes watch before he presses his lips to your skin and gently sucks the juice clean.
The apple drops from your hand and rolls further into the darkness, the sun nearly kissing the horizon and hiding you both away in the shadows.
His lips move to your ear and lightly graze the soft spot just below. You shudder at the contact, grabbing onto his biceps when his mouth continues and ghosts along the column of your neck.
“How many nights has it been?” he asks, running his hands under your toga and pressing his fingers between your legs, “since I last had you.”
Your eyes close and you sway into his embrace.
“Too many.”
Your low moan echoes in the emptiness of the hidden spot and he stops his movements.
“Far too many,” he whispers as he removes his hand and grabs your wrists between his large fingers.
He raises your hands above your head and leans down to capture your lips. You struggle weakly, needing to touch him, but he shakes his head and tightens his hold.
“We cannot do this here,” you gasp as he presses his hardness along your stomach.
His lips move down and across your collarbone and his free hand reaches down to slowly pull apart the fabric that covers your skin. He repeats the action until he reveals your bare breasts, hungrily licking his lips before he closes them around your nipple.
Your knees buckle slightly, and you moan out his name.
“Shhh princess,” he whispers against your skin.
“More Marcus. Please.”
He takes his time, teasing, licking, and sucking until your body is aching then he lifts you so you can wrap your legs around his waist.
Your hands immediately delve into his hair, roughly dragging his mouth down to yours as he presses your bodies together more firmly.
The sounds of a raucous and drunken mob grow louder, and you tense against him. You hold your breath and a long a long stretch of time passes before you meet his eyes.
“Marcus. We should not do this.”
You halfheartedly try to push him away, but he holds his ground.
“I cannot wait another moment,” he growls. “I cannot go another night without you.”
Your eyes hold his gaze, but you don’t answer.
“Please,” he murmurs.
Your fingers stroke his cheek, idly tracing the raised skin of a scar that lines his jaw.
“I can never seem to deny you.”
He lets one of your legs fall gently to the ground and his fingers ghost up your thigh. A low hiss escapes his mouth when he feels how wet you are.
“I do not think you ever want to my love,” he whispers into your neck.
With quick and quiet movements, he frees himself, hiking your leg higher around his waist before he pushes in deep.
Your simultaneous moans are lewd, and you hear the crowd growing closer. It makes him push into you harder.
He kisses you hard and fast then covers your mouth with his hand but keeps his eyes locked on yours as he draws himself all the way out. Your strangled sounds make him smile and he rewards you with a deep thrust.
You’re gasping and your fingers search for something to hold on to, every roll of his hips making your muffled moans louder.
His words are soft against your ear when he whispers, “do you feel how perfectly you fit around me? Nothing feels better than this.”
Your only answer is a nod of your head and when he moves harder and faster you silently beg for more.
“I want you to remember what you do to me. Tonight, when you’re alone in your chambers…and the next morning when you ache between your legs.”
His words have you teetering on the edge and now the intoxicated group is just on the other side of the wall. He lifts his hand from your mouth and covers it with his lips, swallowing your strained whimpers as your body tenses and tightens all over.
Your hands fall from his curls and grab his broad shoulders, holding tightly when his final thrusts stutter and slow. He spills his warmth inside you, and he opens his eyes, resting his forehead to yours.
The oblivious voices start to fade as they move away, and you catch your breath as the quiet blankets the night once again.
He reaches for your hand and lifts it between your bodies, delicately kissing your palm before turning it over and brushing his lips across your knuckles.
You inhale softly and whisper his name.
“I should like to see you reach the palace safely.”
Your expression softens even more, and you trace his lips with your fingertips.
“And I should like to have you in my bed every night.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, the gesture laced with pain, and carefully unwinds your leg from his waist and sets you down on unsteady feet.
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The next day passes far too slowly, and your mind is constantly occupied by thoughts of last night. You’re jolted out of your reverie by a familiar voice.
“Princess,” General Acacius greets.
Turning, you catch a glimpse of him standing with a group of gladiators fresh from training. His chest is bare, and you follow the line of strong muscle to where a dark trail of hair disappears under his canvas loincloth.
When your eyes-finally- reach his face, your breath catches in your throat at the look in his eyes.
Then those eyes rake over every inch of you and even though you’re completely covered in your royal attire, you feel completely naked. His expression is as intense as his touch and you wonder, if he continues to stare in such a way, will your skin ignite?
You try to fix your face into something that camouflages that you’re mentally cataloging the way his chest heaves with his quickened breaths, the way his hands fist at his sides and cause the muscles in his forearms to flex and strain, and the way his neck and shoulders are tense as beads of sweat drip down his glistening skin.  
His tongue darts out to trace his lips and he quietly dismisses the others with a growled command. They walk off silently but not before throwing their covetous eyes your way.
The General draws his sword.
“I would not have you look at the princess in such a way…” he says, his voice low and dangerous.
They turn their eyes to him, narrowed and glaring before stomping away with quiet mutterings.
Once they’re out of sight he walks briskly down the hall, waiting in a shadowed recess until you follow.
He grabs you, spinning you out of sight until he has you caged against the cool stone wall. His breath is warm and heavy against your cheek.
“Marcus,” you gasp, fighting to control your own breathing. “Not here. And especially after that…what were you thinking?! It is too dangerous.”
His grip tightens and he bends slightly, kissing your lips softly.
“Then do not tempt me with a look like that again.”
Your hands reach for his shoulders, and you run your fingers across their broad width before tracing his chest and stomach.
“Then you should not tempt me with such…magnificence.”
His scoff is muffled against your skin, and he pulls away to take your face in his hands, softly brushing his thumb across your lips.
“Magnificence…my princess, there is nothing in this world to rival your beauty. You are…stunning.”
His name falls from your parted lips in a whisper, and he kisses you softly, gliding his nose along your cheek until he meets the soft shell of your ear.
“Have you thought of last night?”
You tilt your face and find his lips again. “With every step I take.”
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@hiddles-rose @tripletstephaniescp @blackwidownat2814 @lizette50
745 notes · View notes
love-belle · 1 year
Text
handsome, you're a mansion with a view !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fans think that they're over but it's far from that.
or
for when you start to build a life with them and plan to build all the others. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
warnings - language
author's note - posting this early bc OSCAR WON WOO FUCKING HOO!!?????!!!????!!!!!!!!! max 3x wdc SLAY SO SO AMAZING!!!!! anyways, i hope u like this, i love u stay hydrated <3
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by landonorris, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and 785,527 others
yourusername that one taylor swift lyric about love and red
8,628 comments
username NO NO NO NO YOU DID NOT BREAK UP WHY DO U DO THIS TO ME
username babe what the FUCK is up with the caption
username im in RUINS bc of this whatcthefuck
lilymhe loving him was red?
-> yourusername i was thinking "i once believed love would be burning red" but that too!!!!!!
landonorris he's whining because i wouldn't give him his phone back
-> yourusername do it and you'll never ever ever meet my dog ever again
-> landonorris noted.
-> username lando doing god's work bc if i was charles i would DROP on the FLOOR if my ex was HER.
username my parents 💔💔💔💔💔💔
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by formulaone44, lec1ercc, oscarpastry and 7,628 others
paddock.club charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n were rumoured to have called it quits on their relationship of almost a year but this might not be true. the couple were seen locking lips in monaco, outside leclerc's apartment — where y/l/n is supposedly moving in. y/n and charles have yet to comment on their relationship status but we think that it is safe to assume that they are well and happy. for more details about the star couple of the formula one world, click on the link in our bio.
488 comments
username WHAT THE FUCK
username they think that they are solooooo hilarious
username im genuinely in shock rn i CRIED over NOTHING
username you're laughing. y/n and charles js trolled their entire fanbase and you're laughing.
username horny lying mfs 🫵🫵🫵
username ricky (charles and y/n) when i catch u ricky when i catch u
username us rn 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡
username the sigh of relief that js left me
≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
*charles_leclerc added to their instagram stories*
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and 825,638 others
yourusername handsome you're a mansion with a view
tagged charles_leclerc
9,278 comments
username THE TSHIRT IM SCREECHING
username ISN'T IT ISN'T IT ISN'T IT
-> username DELICATE
username u are SO right ur reputation has NEVER been worse HOW COULD U DO THAT TO US
username delicate lyrics for charles im js gonna microwave a fork and use it to stab myself in the spleen excuse me
landonorris why would you do this
-> yourusername why not
-> landonorris WHY THOUGH
-> yourusername WHY NOT
charles_leclerc thanks for the t-shirt 😘
-> yourusername i speak nothing but the truth ☺️❤️
charles_leclerc view for forever now
-> yourusername couldn't be anymore blessed, i love you ❤️‍🩹☁️💐
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fairene · 3 months
Note
hello!! i LOVE your work you write the most interesting dynamics and your style always completely sucks me in! i saw you mentioned in the tags that requests were welcome and if it sounds fun, i'd love to read something with lando and a tennis player!reader, not just bc i love tennis lol but also bc it could be interesting to have him with someone who has experienced the same level of pressure. i'd love anything you wrote though!❤️
say less, my love.
pressure / ln4
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a/n ⋯ a short pause from the one of your girls dual part. this was a beautiful request, and as a huge challengers enthusiast, i had to put it to paper. thank you so much for the request. also i am aware that the u.s. open takes place in new york, but for simplicity sake, we'll say its in miami.
music ⋯ link
warnings ⋯ no smut, fluff, angst, insecure thoughts, anxiety.
wordcount ⋯ 2.6k (unedited).
“you’re going to do amazing, my love.” lando’s words were soothing as he held you firmly against his chest. it was a saturday night in miami, both of you were dueling your own matches for the weekend. you were in the finals of your tournament held for the US open, whereas he was debuting in the miami grand prix the following afternoon. 
your head shifted into his chest, nose burrowing into the fabric of his shirt with a soft hum. you knew he was right, but the pressure waned on you. how could it not? your entire career balanced on your performance, and thousands of people would be watching you. not only were you lando norris’ girlfriend, but also an up and coming star in your own career. 
you kissed the fabric of his shirt, knowing the sentiment held little, but he appreciated the gesture regardless. his hand found the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair. his touch was gentle, kind, one reserved only for you. it was moment’s like these that the pair of you found solitude in one another. 
“i know, i just…” you hesitated, lifting your head so your chin rested on the center of his torso. he tightened his hand around your hip, cradling you against the firm shape of his body. 
“what, baby?” he said with a soft tone, velvety to your ears. you couldn’t resist him. couldn’t hold anything back from him, despite wanting to spare him the worries you held. the last thing you wanted him to do was worry about you. especially when he had a huge event of his own.
but all he did was worry about you.
day and night he would dream both through the sun and beneath the moonlight of you. you. it was always you that he was concerned about. you, that he searched for atop his podiums. you, that he would attend all your matches when he could.
this was one of the rare events where they overlapped. he would only be there with you in the morning to see you off before your matches. then, you would reconcile with him in the evenings. post race, post tournament. it would be a tough day to manage on your own, but he felt the same way. you were the light to all of his races, the focal point of which he could relax. his anxiety roared in these conditions, but you somehow soothed him at every turn. 
he needed you. but you couldn’t be there. 
“i want you there.” 
his features softened. there was a cloud of guilt brewing a thunderstorm above his head, threatening to rain down tears in your obvious distress. he hated seeing you this way, and most of all, he hated being the one who caused it. 
“i know.” his thumb stroked across your cheek. “i would if i could.” you believe him. he was your number one fan, just as you were his. a match made in heaven, one might be able to jest. “‘nd i want you there, tomorrow, with me on the radio.” 
you blushed, letting your face drop into the fabric of his sweatshirt. you felt his chest bellow with a deep laugh, centered at his core, letting his lids flutter at your bashful expression. your teeth even went as far as biting at his sweatshirt, which had him grumbling and pulling your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, raising your head to meet his eyes. 
“you’ll be the death of me,” he uttered, saying with pure love. your relationship with him was full of complexities, but overall dominated by your fatuous love for one another. the pressures you both face in consequence of your performances…
“you’re going to win tomorrow.” you sat up on his lap, straddling his hips. you were both in your shared bed in the hotel, lounging in your sleepwear in the messed up sheets. tonight was between you two and no one else. lando slammed that ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door the minute the pair of you walked in for the evening. “i can feel it.” 
“you think so?” he gulped, both his hands coming to run up the skin of your thighs. you shivered at his touch, but you were determined to keep a clear mind. 
“i know so.” you watched his face relax with relief. your words of comfort meant ten times than anyone else's, and you would always give him the truth. its what he loved about you so much. your blatant honesty, your charisma, your ability to power through every obstacle in your life. but he knew just as much as you did that you wouldn’t be able to do any of it without each other. it was one of the many little beautiful things about your relationship.
lando’s anxiety would gnaw at him every chance it got. but since he’s entered a relationship with you, he feels like a fucking king, but he was nothing without his queen. 
“don’t know,” he said, breaking the silence. “you’re my lucky charm.”
you rolled your eyes. “you’ve scored points at every race this season,” you pointed out. it was a fact. he was one of the only contending drivers to have such a prosperous season. you were delighted for him. “with or without me there.” 
but he didn’t like your excuses. he squeezed your plush thighs beneath his calloused fingers, which had you gasping. 
“don’t do that.” 
you quirked a brow. “do what?”
“pretend like you don’t mean the world to me.” 
you blushed and fell forward on his chest, your head falling into his neck. you giggled against his skin, unable to contain your smile. “stop that,” you insisted, blushing fiercely. a hand of his came to hold the back of your neck in a comforting grip. 
“loving you?” you caught his gaze, bleary with love. “i don’t think i can.” 
you were up at 5:30 that morning getting ready. lando was still sound asleep, snores being heard from the ensuite bathroom as your brushed your teeth and fixed your appearance. you wore a white tennis dressed, sponsored by fila, and just left when you made your way to the bed.
your hand brushed over lando’s exposed hip, shirtless in the bed with only a pair of boxers. he moaned in his sleep, pulling a pillow closer. but he was wide awake when he realized the pillow was made of feathers, and not you. 
“come on, my love.” you said to him in the dark room, looming over him with your hair undone and bright white dress. he turned to face you, sitting up against the headboard. his hands came to rest over his head, stretching. 
then he leaned in for a kiss, his hand cupping your cheek. you met him half way, sucking on his lower lip. he groaned, and you felt yourself shift, but couldn’t fall into his trap of desire. 
“ah, ah.” you pulled away before his hand came to snatch you down into the bed. “you promised me breakfast.” 
he fell back into the bed with disappointment. you laughed to yourself and made your way to the foyeur. you didn’t have to wait long when you heard him shifting and getting ready for the day ahead. 
when you arrived to the courts that morning, lando was carrying most of your things. it had you smiling with appreciation, insisting that you could carry your wilson tennis bag. but he refused, saying that you worked too hard for this day to be carrying your own bag. let me help you, and you were sold. 
you caught on to how much the crowds began to fill in. you were a sensation. but the notion would consistently fly over your head. 
you were tense and lando could see that. 
“hey,” his hand came to rest on your back. you leaned into him. “you’re going to do great, baby.” 
you sucked in a tight breath. but what if you didn’t? what if, that these set of matches, would damn your career to near ruin? what if you could never be perfect? 
your breathing became erratic. lando’s eyes widened, jumping into swift action as he covered your body with his. he backed you into a corner where no one could see the pair of you, and wrapped his hands around your body tightly. 
“match me.” he said. the words were so familiar to you. the both of you had discovered a coping mechanism when things got too much, too overwhelming, and too over pressured. you’d fall into each other’s arms and hear one another breathe. 
your lip quivered with tears. but you did as you were told. 
with an ear pressed to his chest, you could hear the steady beat of his heart. the strength in his muscles. the blood rippling through his veins. most importantly, the rise and fall of his abdomen against your own. 
with your thummering heart, you found pace with him. “in and out,” he would soothe, saying into the top of your head where he left kisses in his wake. 
he stroked the small of your back, thumb running circles over you. you fell completely into him. 
“what if i’m not good enough?” 
the words broke him. 
“then the world is full of fuckheads, i’ll tell you that.” his tone was firm, but ebbed with softness as he spoke into your scalp. his attempt at humor had you breaking into a soft chuckle. you appreciated him in this moment. “i’d kill all those fuckers, you just tell me who–”
your head broke away with a smile, finger coming to shush him. 
“lando!” 
“what? it’s true.” 
you loved him. 
“maybe so,” you reached up to kiss both of his flushed cheeks. “but i want you here. with me.” 
his forehead connected with yours. 
“you’ll always have me.” he placed his hand over your heart, and you placed yours over his. 
“always?”
“always.” he promised. 
the matches were flawless. you played to your body’s ultimate limit. you were skating across the base line, the volley line, snapping your shoulder with everything you had for your serves. 
“love, all.” the announcer began. 
you were up serving first. 
this was it. 
the final match out of six. whoever won this, won the title. 
you thought about lando. you thought about his breath against your neck. the texture of his stubble. the pride in his eyes. sweat dribbled from your forehead as you let the tennis ball bounce a few times before you to get a feel for the clay courts. 
and with one fluent swing and leap, the ball was set into the air. 
the cockpit was hot. lando was sweating profusely in the miami air. the humidity had changed their course of strategy at mclaren, but he agreed with his engineers wholeheartedly. there had been a safety car, and he abused it. attack it. 
when he was rounding corner after corner, lap after lap, he only thought of you. he thought of you in your pretty tennis dresses. you and your bright smile. you and your comforting touches, kissing him goodnight. it had his racing heart relaxing, fingers flexing against the steering drive. 
you were perfect. his perfect fucking girl. you were all his– his soon to be championship winner. and he wanted to make you a promise that he would win. he would win this for you. 
‘you’re going to win tomorrow,’ you said idly from atop his hips. you looked towards him with such riveting devotion. such intimacy that he never imagined was possible for someone to convey. but with you, anything was possible. 
the two of you were not so different from one another. the pressures you both faced were immaculate. it’s what held you both so heavily bonded to one another. you needed each other’s comfort. the touch of your hands. the sweetness of your lips. he didn’t give a fuck about codependency. fuck who ever came up with that. 
he’s going to fucking win. he will win for you. whatever it takes, he will stand on that podium in the firelli hat, and dedicate it all to you.
the score was 40-40. 
your body shook with adrenaline, muscles pounding beneath your layer of skin. your body pumped with red hot blood, blood of a future champion. this title would be yours. you knew that the minute you walked onto this court with your opponent. 
he was a smug gentleman. too smug. you wanted to wipe that fucking look off of his face. bruise it black and blue if you could. 
though your anger could be taken out on the court. you let it. 
your strokes were harder. faster. your serve pace was up to 140mph. he couldn’t even get to most of them with how your body contorted mid air, slamming it down and leaving an indent into the clay. you were a powerhouse. a machine. a gauntlet of beauty. 
and when you scored the winning point after an intense rally, jumping high into the air for an ace, you rocked back into the balls of your feet. your hips swung, racket thwanging, and you cheered; “come on!” 
your anger for him was palpable. it blinded you enough to forget the crowds. the only thing you had on your mind was winning, and that you did. 
the stadium lit up and you were met with a flushing amount of cheers. you were handed a towel from one of the members of your team before being swarmed with paparazzi.
they all complimented you. congratulated you. asked about certain points, but there was one member that caught your eye. 
“lando’s in the lead!” a cameraman said from the back. your head raised, brows quirking.
“what did you say?” you forced a path for the man to walk forward. he accepted your invitation, holding up his phone screen in one hand.
sure enough, you saw the standings. lando was in first. your boy was in first. 
your eyes widened. “this is live, isn’t it?” you were panting, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the lemon-scented towel. 
the man nodded, holding a microphone to you. 
“how do you feel right now?” you kept watching. lap 55. 
you kept quiet, and the rest of the paparazzi did too.
lap 56.
your hands clasped together, raising them to your mouth. 
“come on, baby…” you said beneath your breath. this was the longest minute of your life, you were sure of it. 
and when he crossed the finish line, he was only thinking about you. 
lando norris, first time grand prix winner, shrieked with joy over the microphone. 
you did, too, jumping up and down from your place on the court. the paparazzi swarmed you again, anticipating what you had to say for the both of you. 
“he’s incredible, isn’t he?” you gushed with a smile on your face, tears dripping down your cheeks. 
“what a day for you two, isn’t it?” 
you couldn’t agree more. “i’ll cheers to that.” 
you practically ran through the paddock. your tennis dress was still on, your team was irritated that you didn’t stay for press. you didn’t give a fuck. you just wanted to see lando. you had the rest of your life to deal with the press, but he only had one maiden win. 
you were greeted with a plethora of congratulations from the mclaren team. zak brown even caught a glance at you, waving you over. 
“podiums just about to start.” perfect. you made it in time. 
and when you saw him there, standing idly as they played the national anthem, you were brought to the front. the camera panned on you and your weeping expression, hand covering your mouth from your sobs. 
he saw it from the distance and his head snapped down to find you. his own emotions couldn’t be contained, not with you there– you, here, looking beautiful in the sea of people– and the tears slid down his cheeks. 
your face broke into a smile when he saw you. he was yours. 
and you were his. and you were in this together. 
forever and always. 
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notjustjavierpena · 6 months
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you have returned! hope you’re doing ok! i miss husband!javi like i’m missing a limb!
this got me thinking about a request - husband!javi having to go away for a work trip for a few days - comes back and like cute family time. once the kids are in bed he just goes crazy about reader, she’s tired but she handled the kids no problem and is kind of like no big deal about it. and he’s just feral at that. she’s such a good mum and he’s so turned on and he missed her and just ugh smut
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This is a request from the 17th of October 2023. Anon, I hope you are still with us. I loved writing this for you, and I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thank you to proofreading as always @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !! thank you for hyping me @theywhowriteandknowthings and @pinkypromisepascal 💖❤️
Summary: Javier returns from a business trip after being apart from his family for three whole days.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags:  +18, domesticity, a happy family, javi having a baby in his arms and spending alone-time with his kids needs its own tag, i love yous, pregnancy, playful and teasing hubby, touch-starved, banter, dirty talk, finger-fucking, talk about female masturbation, pussy eating, loud reader, piv sex, riding, nipple sucking, lactation kink, javi gets off on you being the mother of his children, multiple orgasms, creampie, intense sex, bliss, pillow talk
Word count: 8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54409297
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The sound of the door has you sprinting towards it. You throw your arms around Javier’s neck before he even manages to put down his bag, causing him to drop it and make a noise of concern in case its contents may end up spilling out on the floor. If you have to be completely honest, you don’t give a damn right now because you haven’t felt his embrace for nearly three whole days. 
“Hola, baby,” he says with a voice that tells you that he is smiling. He holds you close to himself, one hand reaching around your waist and the other one settling on the back of your head. He presses your body into his own, and you try to keep yourself from making a noise that reminds you of a schoolgirl. 
Javier has been on a work trip out of state. It happens from time to time that some department of the state gets the not-so-incredible idea of hiring him as a motivational speaker to make their conferences look more interesting than they actually are. Javier hates it but the money is good and his boss always ends up encouraging him in a way that mostly sounds like he has no choice. 
You hate it too. The act of sleeping in your bed alone, not feeling his body heat, and not being able to simply reach out for him if you need him, is torturous. Combined with taking care of three children alone, you find yourself slowly becoming a less-than-ideal version of yourself. It’s a stressfully romantic reminder that you can barely function without him.
“Hi,” you grin widely as you pull back to receive a kiss. You splay your palms on his chest, scratching slightly as he pecks your lips repeatedly for a moment. Your whole body feels like it is made up of butterflies fluttering around each other in a romantic dance. 
“Thank God that’s over,” he reaches for the suitcase when you finally allow him to step out of your arms. He walks into the kitchen, “They were talking through my whole fucking presentation, and the meetings afterward… I was just daydreaming about coming home to you and the kids the whole time.” 
“That bad?” You follow him around like a puppy. If you didn’t know that he would do the same thing had it been you arriving home, you would find yourself slightly pathetic for being such a fool for him. 
“I should’ve said no this time,” he says as if it had ever been an option. You nod as he continues, “I do it every year and I feel like an idiot each time.” 
“We need the money,” you argue, finally moving away from your husband to go to the living room where Sebastian is lying on a blanket. He squeals in delight at seeing you, and you pick him up with a coo. 
“We don’t need the money, we’ve got enough money,” Javier says from the kitchen. 
“Come say hi to your son,” you change the subject and hear Javier’s steps come closer.
“Oh, there he is,” Javier says and his voice switches to baby talk as you hand Sebastian to him. He settles him on his hip, bouncing slightly where he stands, “Te he extrañado tanto, mijo (I have missed you so much, my son).”
Sebastian gurgles happily up at his father. His eyes are full of recognition at the sound of the  familiar voice. You swear that you can see a little bit of the exhaustion in Javier’s eyes disappear. 
“He’s been really patient with his mom these past couple of days,” you say with a chuckle, “No fussing during naps or nothing. Almost like he knew I needed the extra sympathy.”
“Bet your momma handled everything way better than I could, huh? What do you think?” Javier shifts Sebastian to sit on his arm instead so he can blow a raspberry on his face. He smiles softly at you afterward, turning his head towards you so that he and his son are cheek to cheek, “Is that wrong to assume?”
“I still think you’re better with them than me,” you say simply. 
He tuts, “Bullshit.”
Sebastian makes another happy noise at hearing both of his favorite voices. He swings his tiny fists, and Javier grabs one of his hands, “If this one wasn’t so fixated on playing peek-a-boo, he’d agree. Suppose we all have our vices.”
You move past him with a roll of your eyes and a smile on your face. You go to check the food on the stove, and from behind you, Javier sniffs the air. He walks to join you by the counter, “What are you making?”
“Tu favorito (your favorite),” you smile at Sebastian instead of looking at him, leaning in to bump your nose with his tiny one. Sebastian grabs at your face. 
“No te merezco, mi amor (I don’t deserve you, my love).”
“We eat in twenty minutes,” you inform after lovingly shaking your head at him. He leans in to kiss you again and you know immediately that this is just one of many kisses you will get tonight. 
“Where are the rascals?” He asks. 
“In the garden,” you reply and open your arms, “Give him here and go say hi. Inés has been going on about you all day, so please save me from hearing more about her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”
Carefully, Javier hands over Sebastian, “I thought you liked her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”
“I think I might actually love him,” you grin and try not to feel silly at your sappiness because you do actually love him so much that it is stupid. Sebastian clings to you as soon as he smells you, resting his head on your shoulder and bunching his fists in your shirt.
Javier kisses you once more before heading to the door to the garden. You hear him leave it open, and watch him go outside and step off the porch with a hello. 
“Hey there, gremlins!” He shouts. Inés and Lucas, both engrossed in their own activities, look up at the same time. Their faces light up at the sight of their father, but Inés is the one who makes a noise so loud that you can hear it in the kitchen as if she’s speaking right next to you. 
Both of them come charging whilst shouting for him. you smile fondly at the sight of them colliding with their father who lets himself be knocked backward into the grass with a happy laugh. He wraps his arms around them and squeezes them tightly, “How’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”
They both look up at his face, speaking enthusiastically at the same time until he can barely tell what is going on. Their stories of the events of the last three days weave together until it is nonsense, and they don’t seem to notice that he cannot follow along with what they are saying. He ruffles their hair and sits up with them still cradled in the crooks of his arms, “Wow wow wow, uno a la  vez (one at a time).”
“I made a tower of blocks that was taller than me!” Inés says proudly and Lucas seems to let her have the spotlight for a moment. He knows that she’ll get distracted and run away soon anyway, giving him his own chance at talking to his father. Inés talks loudly, “Mommy took a picture. She said that you needed the evi— evin— uhh… evindance.”
“Evidence,” Lucas corrects her with a superior smirk. 
“That’s what I said,” she huffs. 
“Nuh-uh,” her brother protests and ducks out from underneath his father’s arm. 
“Ya-huh!” Inés removes herself from the embrace too. 
“Alright, that’s enough,” Javier chuckles, “I’ll have to ask mamá for your picture. It sounds really cool.”
“Can we build one together?” She asks with a hopeful voice, “Pleeease.”
“Let’s save it for after dinner, mija (my daughter), okay?” He suggests, “And then I’ll build a tower that’s double the size of you before you gotta sleep.”
“Really? When?” Inés reveals that she still has no real concept of time. 
“After dinner, baby,” he says again, winking at Lucas who grins, “Go ask Mommy when we’re eating.” 
She is up in no time, running towards you in the kitchen. It leaves Lucas the perfect opportunity to have his moment. He gets up from the ground, his jeans covered in green patches, and starts walking towards the swing set that Javier built a few years ago. 
“Dad, you need to see what I’ve learned!” He says. 
“Alright, let’s see,” Javier pushes himself to stand with a groan and follows, crossing his arms over his chest and watching his son get onto the seat of the swing. By clutching the chains tightly, Lucas pulls himself to carefully stand up on the swing seat. 
Javier finds himself about to protest, instinctively holding out a hand to be ready for a potential fall. However, Lucas seems to have everything under control as he holds the chains tightly with both hands. He speaks as he starts swaying back and forth, looking hopeful for approval from who he knows to be the bravest man in his world, “I practiced all day yesterday!” 
“Eres increíble (you’re incredible)!” Javier cheers but then smiles smugly, “Does mom know you’re doing that?” 
“She told me not to,” he admits shyly. 
“Well, I haven’t seen anything,” Javier winks. 
“Thanks, Dad,” it sounds genuine, happy to keep a secret. Lucas lights up, “Wanna see me jump?”
“Even your old dad has limits,” Javier laughs with a shake of his head, “Get down from there. No jumping.”
“Fine,” his son grumbles. 
When he is on the ground, you pop your head out of the door to call them inside, “Dinner time,  chicos  (guys). Lucas, come in here and wash your hands.”
You smile as they approach, and when Lucas has walked past you, you stop Javier in the doorway and curl your fingers around his tie, “You better wash them too, Peña.”
The sun hangs low on the horizon when dinner ends. You start gathering the plates and glasses, and Lucas joins in without hesitation which gives Javier a glimpse of what happens when he isn’t home to take care of you. Maybe his son can sense your exhaustion too. He feels a pang of guilt in his stomach but decides to make up for it by getting his daughter ready for bed. 
“Come on, mija (my daughter),” he says, picking Inés up from the floor and throwing her over his shoulder to make her laugh, “Pajamas first and then building blocks.”
He carries her upstairs to the bathroom and helps her into her pajamas, braids her hair the way she likes it, and then gets her toothbrush. She spends the whole time babbling about how she’ll grow taller like her mother and thus they’ll have to build a higher tower each day. 
“Open up,” he says, sitting on the lid of the toilet with her standing between his legs. He holds her toothbrush in front of her mouth. 
“Do you think I’ll be taller than you someday?” She asks with her childlike eyes, and Javier has to tap her chin to make her remember to open her lips. 
“No, because I’ll just wear very big shoes, even if my head bumps against the ceiling,” he tells her with a grin, “C’mon, teeth brushing time.”
Inés grimaces but follows through and he has to shush her several times because she wants to keep talking.She even sports impatience on her face as her father wipes down her mouth with a damp flannel to rid it of leftover toothpaste. She looks ready to bolt out of the door, fidgeting slightly on the spot, “You promised we could build a tower before bed.”
“And we can,” he reassures, turning the flannel over to wipe the tip of her nose playfully. She crinkles it and reaches up to rub it afterward when he moves to hang it on the laundry basket, “But we’re getting ready for bed first. Hair okay?”
She nods, not entirely convinced that she gets to stay up longer after having brushed her teeth but when Javier has put her toothbrush back in its place in the medicine cabinet, she beams as he allows her to run off to her room. He follows behind, arms stretched out in front of himself, “I’m coming to get you, mija (my daughter)!”
“Nooo!” She squeals in delight, trying to barricade the door with her tiny body but he is too fast and manages to reach her before she can even close it. He picks her up by her middle and holds her upside down, shaking her gently while  she laughs and laughs. 
“Mi monita (my little monkey),” he laughs too. 
They spend half an hour as the architects of a tall and colorful skyscraper, Inés too impatient to see the tower reach her own height to care much for aesthetics. Javier tries suggesting a storyline of a castle but his daughter shakes her head. 
“Stop, Daddy,” she commands and he holds up his hands in surrender. 
“So no princesses live here?” He questions, “Not even a dragon? Or maybe a—” 
“No,” she deadpans, steadfast just like Javier’s father has told him he was. He smiles when she isn’t looking, not about to get scolded by a 4-year-old for not taking their playtime seriously. He enjoys the little moments he has like these, seeing the way his daughter imitates his own behavior in a way that would make your teasing never-ending if you saw it. At that moment, he despises himself and his job because he has to leave sometimes and thus misses out on things. He should have been here when Inés built a tower as tall as herself by herself, not see it in a photograph later. 
Eventually, the construction gets too tall for her to build it even taller. Javier is put to work immediately after she realizes this, and she oversees his work with important nods and looks of assessment. 
“Look, Daddy!” She exclaims with each building block that Javier places on top of another. She stands beside the tower because she needs to compare her height to it, and Javier has to keep a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she gets close to making it tumble down, “Do you think it will reach the ceiling?”
“One day I’m sure it’ll reach the moon,” he replies as if it is a fact, “I for sure am tall enough.”
“No, you’re not,” she furrows her brow, thinking, “But we will just have to get a very big ladder.”
Finally, Javier has built a tower double her size. It stands wobbly on the floor. He nods towards it, “There you go, mi amor (my love), do you want to put the last block on top? The triangular one?” 
She nods and he notices the telltale signs of Inés’ tiredness because her eyes have started drooping. She rubs them with a little sigh, and then holds out her arms so he can pick her up and place her on his hip. 
She places the block carefully on top after Javier hands it to her. It is like all energy reserves have been used up from one moment to another. However, he doesn’t want to risk the unsteady tower falling over in the middle of the night, so he whispers in his most mischievous voice, “Do you want to knock it down?”
“Can I?” She widens her eyes. 
“Sí, pero no se lo digas a tu mamá (yes, but don’t tell your mom),” he confirms, “Perhaps a big angry monkey swung from it whilst roaring like this!”
He imitates King Kong the best he can and is thankful she has no clue what it is, and she repeats after him only to push on the stacked blocks until they tumble to the floor. He kicks the remaining pieces with his foot, and she roars again. They laugh together until she yawns.
“Alright, es hora de dormir (it’s time to sleep),” he announces then, and she doesn’t protest. He shifts her slightly in his arms so she can wrap herself around him with both her arms and legs, burying her face in his shoulder. It’s clear that she has missed him. He rubs her back with both hands before holding her in place, moving towards the bed in the corner of her room. 
Gently, he lays her down and crouches down beside her afterward. He pulls the covers up over her head on purpose and earns a giggle, “Oh no, where did Inés go?”
“You’re silly, Papá,” she says. 
“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells her after tucking her in properly this time, “You are so tired. I will see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you for playing with me,” Inés says with a yawn, turning on her side to look at him better. She softens a little as her eyes start to flutter closed, her father’s hand running over her head. Another yawn comes, “Te quiero, Papá. No me gusta cuando te vas y no me gusta extrañarte (I love you, Dad. I don’t like it when you leave and I don’t like missing you).”
Javier sucks in a breath. He rubs the spot between her eyebrows, trying to keep his composure, “Lo sé, mi vida (I know, my life). I love you too. Sleep well, okay?”
“Okay,” she slurs, and then her breathing slows. He tucks her in one last time, leaning in to kiss her hair softly before stretching carefully to his full height. He makes sure to turn on her night light before turning off the overhead lights, closing the door ever so gently afterward.
He lets out a deep breath right outside her room and smooths two fingers over his mustache. He hasn’t told you about this yet but he is considering quitting his job, has been considering it very seriously since Christmas when he promised to cut down on work significantly to be home a lot more with you and the kids. That and the fact that you are carrying his fourth child, and leaving you home alone with all four in the future just seems cruel.
However, it’s a comment like the one he has just received from his only daughter that sets it in stone. His search for other jobs is not a mere idea any longer but rather a necessity if he wants to continue being happy with his family. 
He has to tell you and he is dying to already, but first, he wants to unpack and then tuck Lucas in too. He has three days of goodnights to catch up on. 
He enters Lucas’ room half an hour later to the familiar sound of his son’s Game Boy, its rhythmic beeps and pings accompanied by the frantic tapping on its buttons. Lucas is sitting cross-legged in his bed, already wearing his pajamas and with his face illuminated by the screen of his console. 
“Hey Dad, can you knock? I’m losing my concentration,” his son says without looking up from the screen, already sounding so grown up that Javier has to tighten his grip around the doorknob. Where did the time go? 
“Ay, Lucas,” he tuts and crosses the room to stand by the bed, “Soy tu padre (I’m your father).”
“I just really don’t want to lose,” he explains and starts tapping away on the buttons again, his stare still fixed on the little jumping character. Javier waits for a moment, following his game by looking over his shoulder. 
When enough time has passed and Lucas seems to relax a bit more, he interrupts again, “Alright, time for bed, muchacho (young man).” 
“One more game!” Lucas finally looks up with pleading eyes. The boy sports the same puppy-look in them that you have said Javier does himself, and it was only when he looked into Lucas’ pleading face the first time that he realized what you meant. The look is damn near impossible to say no to. 
“Fine, but I’m taking it afterward unless you promise me not to play all night,” he says firmly, “Even Mario has to sleep at some point.”
“I will!” He reassures quickly, “Only five minutes more, I promise.”
“But I want to talk to you about something first,” he holds out his hand for the gaming console, “Dámelo (Give it to me). It’s important you listen.”
“Am I in trouble?” Lucas reluctantly hands his most precious belonging to his father who places it on the nightstand. 
“What? No, mijo (my son),” Javier gets Lucas under the covers, tucks him in, and then sits down on the edge of the bed, “How would you like it if I got to spend more time at home with you all?”
“What do you mean?” Lucas tilts his head in confusion.
“Can you keep a secret from Mom?” He asks with a gentle smile. Lucas nods. He continues, “I’m quitting my job soon.”
“Really?!” Lucas exclaims with pure shock on his face.
“Shh, your sister and your brother are asleep down the hall,” he shushes, holding a finger in front of his mouth.
“Really?” He whispers instead. 
“Absolutely, really,” Javier whispers back and Lucas’ eyes sparkle with excitement. He sits up in bed, pushing the covers aside to crawl into his father’s arms. Maybe he isn’t so grown up after all. Javier hugs him back and kisses his hair, “I’ve been thinking that spending more time with you, your brother and your sister is what I’ve been missing. I don’t like  leaving you here to be the big boy of the house when I’m not here.”
He continues when Lucas tightens his arms around him. He muses, “And even if I’ll still have a job, there’ll be more time for game nights and football in the garden. Would you like that?”
Lucas nods into his shoulder. Javier chuckles softly, "But remember, es nuestro secreto (it’s our secret) until I talk to Mom about it. We want to make sure she's on board with the plan, yeah?”
Lucas pulls back and nods eagerly, looking like he is already daydreaming of the extra time he'll get to spend with his father. However, there’s a tinge of anxiety in his excitement, and his voice is an unsure whisper when he speaks his concern, "Dad, what if Mom doesn't like the idea? What if she gets upset?"
“She understands how important our family time is. Trust me, te prometo (I promise) everything will be okay," he says with a reassuring smile. 
“But what will your new job be?” Lucas continues, “Will it be something cool?”
“I think I might start teaching people how to catch bad guys like I used to do,” he shrugs.
Lucas grimaces, “You’re gonna be a teacher?”
“Alright, that’s enough,” he laughs, “Bedtime.”
“You said one more game!” He protests. 
Javier gets up to grab the Game Boy off the nightstand. He holds it out for his son and yanks it away when he tries to take it, “One.”
“I promise,” he says and takes it when he is allowed. 
“And your father is actually very cool,” Javier moves to turn off the lights. He can already hear the theme tune of Lucas’ game, “Buenas noches (goodnight).”
“Buenas noches, papá, te quiero,” Lucas beams in the few seconds he looks up. 
“Y yo a tí, mijo (I love you too, my son),” he says and flicks the switch. 
“They’re asleep,” Javier says as he enters the kitchen a few minutes later. He finds you leaning against the counter with a glass of alcohol-free red wine in your hand. The bottle stands on the counter behind you, its contents half-emptied as if it's been your only way of treating yourself in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed. You look tired from having been alone with all three of them - one of them still an infant - for three days and with a secret baby in your belly to top it off. 
Chucho had offered to help you out but you had politely declined so as to not ask for too much of your father-in-law, not be too much of an inconvenience when he has so much to do at the ranch with getting ready for the Spring. 
“I’m about to be too,” you say after a sip of your glass. 
“When I’ve finally gotten you to myself?” Javier tuts and steps closer to you, stopping when he is right in front of you. He checks the baby monitor on the kitchen counter next to the wine bottle and then he takes the glass off your hand, setting it aside as well. 
His hands find your sides afterward, cupping your waist for a moment before they slide around your body so he can pull you in for a long and desperate kiss. You rest your arms on his shoulders, cradling his head as he moves his mouth with yours. It is nothing but pure ecstasy to feel him like this again, so much that you forget to breathe and have to pull away too soon. 
You know he is the same when he sucks a breath in at the same time as you. However, instead of kissing you again, he lets you catch your breath and hugs you close to his chest. His body feels warm, an instant smile forming on your face as he squeezes you. 
“Hi,” you say, sounding drunk despite the wine having no alcohol. His arms are a harbor, the very definition of the end of unhappiness. They’re strong and enough to make your head swim, holding you with the promise of never being apart except for physically. 
You feel his breath against your ear, “Hey, mamá.”
“I’m so glad you’re home with me again,” you close your eyes as you inhale through your nose, letting the scent of him flood your system. 
Javier pulls back and stares at you for a moment. He smirks, a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes. Then he lets go of you to reach up and teasingly pull down your top to look down into it. 
“Ay, Javi,” you scold with a roll of your eyes. 
“What?” He acts oblivious. 
“You’re acting insane, and I’m trying to be genuine.”
“I haven’t seen you in three days, mi amor (my love), you can’t blame me,” he protests your accusation, “Besides, this is me being very genuine.”
“Missed you too,” you sigh. 
“And I’ve missed you, Jesus,” he wraps his arms around your waist again, pulls you closer to his body, and uses every opportunity to kiss you after each sentence, “Missed these tits. Missed your gorgeous pussy. You gotta let me have it tonight, mamácita.” 
“Take me upstairs then,” you lean your head back when he presses his lips to your throat, “We’re not doing it in the kitchen. Against popular belief.”
Javier snorts, “But we always—“
“I said against popular belief, baby,” you stress. 
“Fine, c’mere then,” his arms slide down over your hips, and when they reach your knees, he scoops you up with his strong arms and lifts you over his shoulder. You answer with a yelp that turns into a panicked laugh but he simply smacks your ass and starts walking. In the middle of the chaos, you manage to reach for the baby monitor on the counter. 
“You are incorrigible,” you say with a dramatic sigh.
“Yes, wife, yes, wife good, I like wife,” he replies in his best caveman accent and you snicker all the way up the stairs, legs dangling over his shoulder and ready to scold him each time he gropes your ass. 
When he throws you down on the bed, you are having a full-on laughing fit and the bubbling in your chest feels so good. Even better, when he looms over you by the end of the bed while unbuttoning his shirt, only to crawl on top of you. He kisses your wine-stained lips, scooping you up into his arms and you return his embrace after throwing the baby monitor on the bed. 
“I love your laugh,” he says softly when he needs a breath, bumping your noses together. 
“You just kidnapped me from the kitchen, that’s no laughing matter,” you tease. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss your neck while you talk. 
“Then why are you giggling like a schoolgirl?” He places a hand on your belly that still keeps a secret between the two of you. No one knows yet. 
There is concentration on his face when his hand moves up under your top, smoothing the fabric up until you stretch your arms above your head to help him rid it off of your body. 
“Hmm,” you think out loud, “Maybe because I have this terrible schoolgirl crush on you.”
“Really? I thought marriage was just a matter of convenience,” he chuckles and kisses your neck again. You lay your hands on his shoulders, smoothing them over the broadness of his bare skin that’s been missing underneath your fingertips and pushing him down towards your chest. 
“This is pretty good too, most convenient,” you note with a grin as he follows your silent order, moving his mouth south on you until he plants kisses between your breasts. You reach underneath your back to undo your bra, and he peels it off of you and sighs with satisfaction as soon as he has your upper body naked. 
“Look at you,” he groans, throwing the bra to the side and diving back into you. He kisses the swell of your right breast, “You make me so fucking horny.”
You throw your head back as he lets the flat of his tongue trail wetly from one breast to the other. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and earns his first moan, to which he presses his clothed crotch into your thigh to show you how hard he is already. 
“I’ve been wet since I saw you at the door,” you admit, “Been thinking of your cock inside of me each night. So fucking lonely without you.”
“You should have called me,” he mutters, mouth going further down on your body until he reaches the hem of your jeans. He undoes the button and zipper, yanking them over your hips and pulling them off your legs. 
“I was too busy screwing myself,” you tell him and he immediately finds your eyes. That clearly hit a spot, “You like that, huh?”
“Tell me about it,” he struggles a little with the jeans as they sit around your ankles, but the desperation has him yanking them off with enough enthusiasm to pull you along. 
“If you weren’t trying to drag me onto the floor— oh, shit.”
Javier has dragged your underwear along with the jeans, and he is now sinking two fingers deep inside of your dripping cunt and pressing them upwards. It’s what you get for being snarky, you suppose, staring down at him as he fucks you open on his digits. 
“Your mouth— ah, put your mouth on me,” you try to command. 
“Quiet down, baby. I literally just put the kids to bed. You want them running in here?” He shushes you with an amused grin, adding a third finger to your squelching cunt to make you groan, “While I’m wearing you like a puppet?” 
You rock against his hand with a chuckle that develops into a moan, “Imagine the conversation that’ll start.”
“I’d rather have a conversation about how filthy you’ve been while I was away,” he speeds up his fingers to make you cry out against your hand but he doesn’t make you come, changing his mind halfway there to follow through on your request, “No, actually I’ll have you monologue about it because I’m going to eat your pussy as you do it.”
You tremble as he takes your clit in his mouth, easing his tongue over the hard nub over and over again whilst timing it with the strokes of his fingers. You feel so full of his digits, and it takes you a moment to trust yourself not to cry at the ceiling the second you remove your hand from your mouth. 
“Took a long shower the day before yesterday, after the kids had gone to school and Seb was napping,” you begin with shaking breaths. You need to start the sentence three times before you can make your words make sense, “Used the faucet on the bathtub and came so goddamn hard. You should’ve seen me with my legs up against the wall.”
Below you, Javier hums in approval and it vibrates through your throbbing pussy. You continue.
“I imagined you going down on me with your warm tongue, circling my clit— yes, just like that,” just talking about it makes you gush from how horny it makes you, wetness dripping past Javier’s lips and into his mouth. He groans against you and mouths at your pulsing clit. You find yourself much closer from how well your body remembers the orgasm you had in the shower; the warm water pounding rhythmically against your clit, your toes curling, and— and. 
You grind into his mouth and fuck yourself on his fingers as you come, the hot and heavy feeling of an orgasm crashing over you and intensifying as it peaks. You have to bite your lip to keep from screaming, still not managing to keep the high-pitched ah! from reverberating through the room. Javier’s fingers feel so much bigger inside of you as your cunt strangles them, and when you look down at him, you see that he is crashing his hips against the bed to feel just a bit of relief. 
You have lost all restraint in your noises as you feel the pleasure ebb out, leaving you a whimpering and panting mess on the bed that wants it all. Somehow you are deeply satisfied at the same time as knowing that this is not enough; you need all of him, and you need him inside of your cunt until you can barely move from the spot. The fact that your body still works when he pulls his fingers from you is an indication of not having had enough. 
“Need to fuck you,” he says from below you, crawling on top of you. He has left a damp spot on the sheets from where his cock has dragged against them, and he looks like he is in pain at this point if he doesn’t get to feel you around him, “Now, mi amor (my love).”
“No,” you stop him as he tries spreading your legs with a gentle yet hurried hand.
“No?” His brows furrow, a protest on the tip of his tongue. 
“Let me ride you,” you beg, already pushing on his shoulders and feeling how he is giving in in an instant, “Please, I want you so deep in me.”
“Yes, yeah, okay,” he breathes, moving to lie on his back with a pillow under his head. You shake as you lift yourself to straddle him, holding out your arms in front of yourself to signal that you want him to be close to you. He reads you without you saying anything and sits up in your bed so you can be chest to chest. 
You reach beneath yourself to take hold of the base of his cock, holding him in place so you can sink down on his shaft until he is buried inside of you to the hilt. You are dripping wet. The motion of engulfing him in your heat is smooth and effortless, and the moans the both of you let out are closer to whines because you are so starved. 
“It’s so good, you’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles quietly in your ear, nosing along the spot behind it. You arch into him, nodding without any words coming to your mind. Instead, you let out a soft gasp as he fucks up into you. 
Nothing describes being this close to him after not even being able to kiss him for three days. Other couples would shake their heads if they knew how desperate you get from merely three days apart. You only feel sorry for them. They don’t get how your days are spent with taking every opportunity to lay eyes on each other, breathe and taste each other or even just being able to put a hand on each other’s shoulder, hip, the small of the back. 
“Let me,” you pant as he moves underneath you, sending you into a state where you need to concentrate if you want to get out a proper sentence, “I want to fuck this cock. Please, let me.”
Javier stills his hips underneath you. He seems to be holding his breath as he watches you place your hands on his shoulders and then feel them slide behind his head to tilt his head backward. He looks up at you as you start moving on him, rocking in his lap so he barely pulls out of you. 
“Come on, that’s a good girl,” he says when he finally sucks in a breath, eyes gazing up at you with a pussydrunk look in them. When they glaze over like this, you know his words will be ravenous and never-ending, “Fuck, baby. That’s it. There you go. Let me touch you so deep inside.”
It doesn’t take long for him to be distracted by your moving chest as you sensually drag your hips over his thick cock. He did tell you that he had missed your breasts but that had been in a slightly playful manner; you never thought that you would actually start to feel beautiful under his hungry eyes. It shouldn’t come as a shock to you because he always knows how to make you feel desirable. 
“Attagirl,” he groans, holding your hip tightly with his right hand to help you keep your balance, “God, look at those pretty tits.”
You arch your back as he puts his other hand on your left breast, bending his head down to mouth along the swell until he reaches your nipple. He swirls his tongue once but it is too hard to keep going when you move more frantically on top of him to pleasure yourself, so instead, he wraps his whole mouth around the hardened, spit-slicked peak and sucks until your cunt clamps down in surprise of how good it feels.
“Fuck,” you pant, closing your eyes. The noises of him sucking on your breasts fill your ears and along with how it is making your belly swirl, it makes you impossibly wetter, coating his dick in a milky-white ring. A lewd thought enters your mind. Perhaps, he keeps knocking you up because of this; your cup size has remained the same for a while because you’ve been breastfeeding for months now, and with another baby on its way, you know that the months will keep adding up in the near future.
A drop slips into his mouth and spurs him on to give you a thorough taste. Your brows pull together as a more high-pitched moan leaves your open mouth and he pulls back to shush you gently. Then he sucks greedily again. 
You had once asked him why he loved this, and he had replied that the very fact that you were producing milk so sweet to nurture his child went straight to his dick. 
“Javi,” you whine to tell him just how you feel. He removes his mouth from your sensitive chest to talk, albeit reluctantly. However, when he notices the change in your sounds and your pitch, he doesn’t want to look away from your face again until he has seen you lose it. 
“Oh, you wanna come, huh? Then fuck me,” he says with milk-stained lips. You move desperately in his lap as he spurs you on, feeling the head of his cock dragging back and forth inside of you, laying against your g-spot perfectly if you tilt your hips just a bit. Javier’s eyes burn as they stare up at you but he cannot help himself from occasionally glancing down at your bouncing tits. Your need to come grows, and when you press down slightly harder, you see stars behind your eyelids. A second orgasm tears through you, and one of the hands that has gripped your hip hard enough to bruise comes up to cover your mouth because you start screaming. It’s so intense to have missed him so much. 
“There she is,” he growls lowly, watching your face contort with pleasure until tears slide down your face and underneath his palm that’s tightly secured over your whining mouth, “That’s my good girl. You know how to come on this fucking cock, fuck, you feel so good, mi vida (my life), choking my dick. Keep going— no no, don’t stop, ride through it, baby.”
You force yourself to continue moving and keep crying into his hand, wet from drool and tears by now. The oversensitivity is mind-numbing, toe-curling, and somehow still not enough.
“Almost made me come, mi chica sucía y desesperada (my dirty, eager girl),” he says through a breathless chuckle but then raises his brows as your pitch starts climbing once again. You have successfully bypassed your body and started building up another high, “You’re gonna come again? Díos mio (my God), my beautiful wife is insatiable.”
Any chance of talking back at him is lost because you would wake up the whole neighborhood if he dared remove his hand from your mouth. To put his filthy mouth in its place, you start bouncing in his lap to the point where his naked thighs crash harshly into your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin is dirty but Javier’s desperate groans are obscene. He can barely talk now without his voice wavering, and with the way he repeats himself, you know he is doing everything in his power to let you come one more time before he bursts, “Use my cock, yes like that. K-keep going— you’re gonna make me come. Oh fuck.” 
When he notices that you are trying to say something, he removes his hand and allows you a single sentence before clamping the hand down over your mouth again. 
“I can’t do it anymore,” you whimper with exhaustion, thighs having started to tremble with the effort you are putting into bouncing in his lap. They hurt at this point, straining despite how much you also use your arms to steer yourself.
“Don’t worry about it, Go until you can’t fucking do it anymore and I’ll take over, yeah?” He nods at you when you make a mhm-noise into his hand, eyes encouraging and his breaths less composed. 
When you come a second time on his dick, you falter immediately. The sensation of the pleasure that has built up so fast again crashes down and takes you with it in its fall. You are silent when it’s teetering on the edge, and then it makes your voice crack when you feel the first tug behind your throbbing clit. 
There is only the feeling of your convulsing cunt making you believe in a higher power - in this case, Javier fucking Peña - and then said higher power wrapping his arm around your sticky back to lift you up and down. He snaps his hips upwards to use your body for his own pleasure, and after a series of frantic movements, he comes with a groan. The feeling of his warm spill inside of you has you whimpering, and you try your best to rock your hips the best your exhausted body can. If it weren’t for all the dopamine in your system, you are sure it would hurt. 
“Yes, yes, yesyesyes. Oh, baby, fuck the come out of me, yes, that’s it,” he chants underneath you as he fills you up, moving to meet you halfway until he also has no more to give.  When he stills, he grabs your face to smash your lips together in a messy, desperate kiss that is more teeth than anything else. It feels impossible to get close enough to him, even if your chests stick together from sweat.
A moment later, you fall down onto his chest with a chuckle, head swimming from what you have just done. Your arms lie on either side of his head, and your cheek is pressed into his hair. You can feel his nose dig into your shoulder, inhaling you and your post-sex scent, and his arms tighten around your waist as he hugs you close. 
“That was fantastic,” you groan with him still inside of you. He gives you one more thrust, pressing his hips upwards, and you half-moan in oversensitivity and half-laugh in surprise, “Stop it, Peña.”
He laughs breathlessly, placing a kiss on your bare skin. Then he slips out of you with a grunt, and you feel his come drip from you already, down onto his cock and thighs. He rubs your sides with his broad hands, “I have missed you as well, you know.”
“I don’t ever want you to go again,” you demand sillily. 
“You say that every time.”
“I mean it every time.”
There’s a pause between the two of you. It lasts several minutes where you just lie on top of his chest. 5, 10, 15 minutes pass. Javier says nothing yet you know him well enough to know that he is considering his words. 
“I was thinking of something,” he finally says. 
You sit up at that, “What?” 
“You know how I said something about work during Christmas? That I wanted to be more home with you and the kids, that it would make me happier?” He begins, looking up at you and not hesitating in his eye contact with you. 
You suddenly pay a lot more attention, “Yeah?”
“I was thinking that since I will have a bunch of kids to carry around a lot more years from now, I can’t be running around in the force anymore. My back is fucking killing me, and I also want to make love to my wife on the regular,” he tells you and you know instantly that it’s serious even if he says it with a chuckle, “I was thinking of teaching at the local college. They have a criminology course, and with my time in school with my head in the books - I mean, my bachelor’s degree - it shouldn’t be a problem to get a job there.”
“Are you serious?” You gape at him. 
“Yes, of course, I am,” he furrows his brow slightly. Only now, he looks unsure but still keeps talking, “It would mean nothing of this sort either; me going away.”
“Babe, that’s amazing,” you fall down into him again, causing an umph-noise from your husband, and then you crash your lips into his. You kiss him as if your life depended on it, sliding your fingers through his dark hair and tugging slightly as if trying to get him even closer to you. 
He looks drunk and disheveled when you pull back again, a goofy and satisfied smile on his face. His fingers scratch slightly along your back, “You’d like that, huh?”
“Yes, please,” you beam with happiness. 
“Then you shall have it, mi vida (my life),” his hands travel down to your ass which he gropes obscenely, and when you make a noise, he smacks your right cheek. You feel his cock, hard again, poke into your thigh.
You look down between you, “This is a surprise. I thought you’d gotten old…”
“Like I said…” He grabs your waist and pulls you down to lie on your back. A yelp escapes your lips. 
He is inside of you mere seconds after, causing you to longingly whine. He thrusts once then twice, and you throw your head back to take it, “…I’ve missed you.”
.
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If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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truffeart · 7 months
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Farore the Painter !
I’ve read that during the developpement of the Oracle games, Farore was meant to be a singer/harp player and Nayru, a painter. But later on, they scratched the 3rd game and gave Nayru the role. So this left me lots of room to design Farore for Strings of Fate Book 2. I gotta say, she’s my favorite. 😍 Quirky, witty, adventurous… A little bit like our beloved Link!
The second book has now an official title, 211 pages and several designs are done/in progress. Ill drop those on my Ko-Fi on Sunday. For now, Im taking a little trip to Quebec, I havent taken a break in so long ! 😭
I wish you all a lovely weekend! ❤️ -Truffe
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