#i hope you like it because i really love it actually

[pucksandpower]

Legends Never Die

Carlos Sainz x Senna!Reader

Summary: sometimes the hole in your heart left behind by the passing of your father becomes almost too much to bear, but Carlos and his family never fail to ease the ache

Brazilian Grand Prix, 2023

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you step out onto the podium at Interlagos after winning your home race — the Brazilian Grand Prix — for McLaren.

You wave to the sea of fans, trying to keep your emotions in check. But it’s impossible. Everywhere you look there are reminders of your father.

Fans wave Brazilian flags emblazoned with his iconic yellow and green helmet. Others wear t-shirts bearing his name and race number. Signs reading “Senna Forever” make your chest tighten.

He’s everywhere … except where you need him most. In your memories.

You were just a baby when he died in that fateful accident at Imola in 1994. You only know the sound of his voice through crackling video footage, his infectious smile from yellowing photographs. But you don’t actually remember him. Your own father, the man whose immense legacy you carry on your shoulders each time you slide into the cockpit of a Formula 1 car.

By the time the national anthem plays and the champagne corks pop, you can barely see through the tears welling in your eyes. You blink them back rapidly, hoping the cameras don’t pick up on your emotional state. As soon as the ceremony ends, you practically run off the podium, heading straight for the sanctuary of your driver’s room.

You barely make it through the door before the sobs start wracking your body. You sink down onto the couch, drawing your knees up and burying your face in your hands as the tears flow freely.

How can you feel so alone when surrounded by so many who loved him?

A soft knock at the door cuts through your cries. You know immediately who it is without having to ask.

“Come in,” you manage to choke out, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks.

The door opens and there’s Carlos, looking concerned but unsurprised to find you in this state. Of course he knows. By now, he can likely sense when these waves of emotion are about to crash over you.

Carlos crosses the room and settles onto the couch, gathering you into his arms. You immediately curl against his chest, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. One of his hands comes up to soothingly stroke your hair as the other rubs circles across your back.

“Let it out, mi amor,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m here.”

The gentleness in his voice is your undoing. You let out a gasping sob, tears soaking through the material of his firesuit as you finally allow yourself to unravel completely in his embrace.

“I-I don’t remember him,” you hiccup between harsh breaths. “I w-won my home race and all I could see out there were ghosts. He was everywhere b-but in my own mind!”

“Shh, I know,” Carlos soothes, rubbing your back. “I know it hurts, mi vida. But he’s here.” He places his palm over your heart. “Your dad lives in here, just like you live in his.”

You lift your head, seeking out his warm brown eyes through your tear-blurred vision. “How can you be so sure? I don’t have a single first-hand memory of him. I know Ayrton Senna the legend, but not my own father.”

A small, sad smile tugs at the corner of Carlos’s lips. “Because that’s how it is for all of us who didn’t get the chance to really know him.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear trailing down your cheek. “We keep him alive in our hearts through the way he inspired us, the lives he touched without ever realizing it. And for you ...” His expression turns amazed, eyes shining with an emotion you can’t quite place. “For you, he’s here.” He runs his hands over the sides of your body, splaying his fingers wide. “A part of him lives on, in you and through you each time you drive. You embody everything he represented behind the wheel — passion, adrenaline, an unquenchable desire to be the best. That’s your father’s legacy beating within you.”

You stare at him, trying to make sense of the jumbled tempest of feelings swirling inside you. Part of you wants to protest, to insist your longing for a tangible connection to your father can’t be satisfied by philosophical musing.

And yet … Carlos’ words reverberate within you, striking a chord. You think of the split-second decision making, the fearless way you attack corners, your refusal to ever give any less than your full effort.

Those are all traits you’ve been told time and time again you inherited from Ayrton. And maybe Carlos is right — maybe that is how you’ll know him best in this life.

Slowly, you reach up to cradle Carlos’ face in your palms, searching his caring gaze. “How did I get so lucky?” You whisper, a few rogue tears spilling over. “To have someone who understands me, understands this hole in my life, and loves me enough to fill it as best he can?”

The look of utter adoration on Carlos’ face steals your breath. Gently, he leans in to capture your lips in the softest, sweetest of kisses. The tenderness, the depth of emotion in that one simple gesture is enough to make your knees go weak.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “I’m the lucky one, mi amor,” he murmurs, the words ghosting across your lips. “To be loved by you ...” He shakes his head slowly in seeming awe of you. “You make me feel blessed every day just by letting me share in your existence.”

You let out a watery laugh, rolling your eyes but unable to fight the giddy smile blooming across your face. Trust Carlos to somehow make you feel like the luckiest, most special person in the world after you’ve just spent who knows how long crying on his shoulder.

“You big sap,” you tease, booping him on the nose. You search his expression, your chest filling with warmth at the laughter lines crinkling around his eyes. “I love you, you know that right?”

The words hang there, heavy and significant. You realize you’ve never actually said them before, not with such simple yet loaded sincerity.

From the look of surprise and unbridled joy that overtakes Carlos’ features, he realizes it too. His hands come up to cradle your face, fingers threading through your hair as he holds you tenderly.

“Mi alma ...” he breathes out reverently. “Te amo, mi vida. I love you with all my heart.”

The depth of emotion in his voice, the Spanish words of love and adoration tumbling from his lips, it’s all too much. You surge forward, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss as the last of your tears, these born of happiness and love rather than sorrow, streak down your cheeks.

Carlos kisses you back with an intensity that leaves you lightheaded. His fingers tighten almost possessively in your hair as the kiss deepens, growing more heated and passionate. You’re vaguely aware of him shifting until you’re nearly in his lap, bodies aligned and thrumming with a very different kind of electricity than you’re used to on the track.

Eventually, the need for air becomes too insistent to ignore. You break apart, both of you panting heavily. Carlos’ lips are red and swollen, his pupils blown wide. He looks like a man thoroughly ravished.

You can’t help the impish grin. “So I take it you feel the same way?”

His laugh is low and gravelly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh mi amor ...” he rumbles, nuzzling his nose against yours. “You have no idea.”

You bite your lip, about to suggest taking this celebration elsewhere more private. But a new thought suddenly occurs, giving you pause. Slowly, almost shyly, you meet his heated gaze.

“Carlos … do you really think he would be proud of me?” The uncertainty in your voice is painfully obvious. “My father, I mean. You think he’s ...” You swallow hard. “You think he’s watching over me and approving of the person I’ve become?”

The seriousness of your question douses some of the blazing desire in Carlos’ eyes. But it’s quickly replaced by a look of such fierce conviction, such affection for you, it makes your breath catch.

“Cariño,” he begins, voice thick with emotion as he tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “Your father was the embodiment of passion and integrity in the pursuit of greatness. On the track, he gave everything. He put his heart and soul into being the best driver, the best competitor he could be. And that’s exactly what I see when I watch you race.”

Carlos leans in, resting his forehead against yours as his fingers tenderly trace the line of your jaw. “You drive with the same fire, the same refusal to let anything less than your full ability shine through. And off the track?” He lets out a soft huff of laughter, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, let’s just say the determination, the sheer force of will I see in you would make any parent proud.”

You bite your lip, struggling against the swell of emotion building in your chest at his words. “Really? You don’t think he’d be … disappointed? That I’m not living up to his legacy or-”

“Hey.” Carlos cuts you off firmly, holding your gaze. “Your father didn’t just leave a legacy of winning championships or setting records, mi amor. He left a legacy of spirit. Of personality. Of being a loving, passionate human being who inspired millions.” His thumb strokes along your cheekbone as his eyes shine with complete sincerity. “And let me tell you — in that way? You are so perfectly your father’s daughter it’s unreal.”

The tears that have been threatening finally spill over, but this time they are born of relief, of love and reassurance. You manage a watery smile, curling your hand around the back of Carlos’ neck to pull him close until your foreheads touch.

“Thank you,” you whisper fervently. “For understanding. For loving me through the shadows and the ghosts. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His arms tighten around you, holding you flush against his body in an embrace filled with devotion. “Well, you’ll never have to find out,” he murmurs lowly, lips brushing tantalizingly against the sensitive skin just below your ear. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

A delighted shiver runs through you at his tone, at the deliciously possessive edge to his promise. Shifting in his lap, you capture his lips in a searing kiss filled with all the love, the passion, the longing you’ve been holding at bay.

Carlos responds with equal fervor, one hand burying in your hair while the other maps searing paths across your back, your sides, pulling you ever closer until there’s no space between your bodies. The room seems to simultaneously tilt and burn away until there is only the two of you, tangled together in a heated spiral of want and need.

At some point, you become vaguely aware of Carlos rising to his feet, your legs winding instinctively around his waist as he lifts you effortlessly. Your back presses against the nearest wall and you moan softly into his mouth at the delicious friction. His hands are everywhere, stoking the fire burning through your veins with every scorching caress.

Finally, and reluctantly, you pull your lips from his with a gasp. “Carlos … if we don’t get out of here soon, I can’t be held responsible for what might happen.”

He grins wolfishly at you, pupils blown wide with desire. “Is that a promise, mi amor?” His voice is low, gravelly, and sends sparks of pure hunger fluttering through your stomach.

Holding his heated gaze, you slowly drag your nails down the back of his neck in a deliberate tease, relishing the way his eyes darken even further. “Take me home, Carlos,” you purr, leaning in to brush your lips against his once more. “And I’ll show you just how promising I can be.”

His response is to capture your mouth in another bruising kiss, pressing you harder against the wall as a growl rumbles up from deep in his chest. Then, without warning, he’s turning and striding towards the door, carrying you easily as your legs remain locked around his waist.

Breathless with wanting, you finally pull away as he reaches for the doorknob, laughing softly. “I see someone’s eager.”

Carlos’s eyes gleam with pure, undisguised hunger as he looks at you over his shoulder. “For you, mi alma?” He leans in, lips hovering tantalizingly close as his beard brushes your tingling skin. “Always.”

With that, he’s swinging the door open and striding out into the hallway, completely uncaring of who might see. His focus, his entire world, is solely on you in this moment. Just as yours is on him.

As the adrenaline of victory fades and the ache of longing for your absent father eases into a dull, familiar ache, you’re reminded once more of the incredible gift you’ve been given.

Carlos’ love, his understanding and acceptance of every broken, yearning part of you is a blessing. One you vow never to take for granted.

Winding your arms securely around his neck, you let yourself get lost in the heat of his gaze, the depth of emotion shining there. And you realize — with him, you don’t feel so alone.

Even if your father isn’t here in person, some piece of him does live on. Not in memories or old recordings. But in the love you hold in your heart. The love you pour into everything you do, every dream you dare to chase. The love that connects you to Carlos so wholly.

Maybe, just maybe, your father is prouder than either of you can fathom as he watches the remarkable life you’ve created together unfold.

Smiling softly, you lean in to feather a kiss along the sharp line of Carlos’ jaw, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Take me home, meu amor.”

Australian Grand Prix, 2024

The podium ceremony is pure pandemonium. Carlos stands on the top step, beaming and cheering, having just claimed his first win of the new season. You’re on the second step beside him, arm raised in celebration of your own P2 finish. The energy from the crowd is electric, filling your veins with the same adrenaline rush as when you crossed the finish line.

You should be deliriously happy. Scoring such a strong result alongside your boyfriend at the third race is the dream start to your championship chase. And yet … something feels off. A strange melancholy tugs at the corner of your heart even as the champagne sprays and camera flashes bombard you from all angles.

Then you spot him — Carlos’ father, beaming at his son from the front of the crowd gathered below the podium. His chest is puffed out with undisguised pride, eyes crinkled at the corners behind his designer shades.

As you watch, father and son’s gazes meet and lock, and the sheer depth of emotion in that one look breaks something inside you.

Oh.

That’s what’s missing.

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, stealing your breath. You barely register the Spanish national anthem playing as your eyes stay glued to the tender scene before you.

Carlos shooting his father a brilliant grin, chin dipping in acknowledgment of the pride shining through. Carlos Sr.’s face split by the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him wear. It’s such a simple gesture, but one utterly steeped in parental pride.

You should look away before it gets to be too much, but some masochistic part of you can’t tear your gaze from the heartwarming display. Seeing that effortless bond between father and son, witnessing their silent communication and affection laden with years of inside jokes and childhood memories … it awakens a hollow ache, one you’re terribly familiar with.

By the time the ceremony finally winds down, hot tears are stinging your eyes. You blink rapidly, ducking your head in hopes that the dark tint of your sunglasses conceals your fragile state. But of course, Carlos notices immediately.

He pauses mid-celebration, halfway through accepting some prize filled with the event sponsor’s product. Frowning, he leans in close under the pretense of thanking you for pushing him all the way. “Mi alma? What’s wrong?”

You nearly choke on your own breath at the naked concern in his voice. Trust Carlos to pick up on your inner turmoil even in the middle of what should be an incredibly joyous occasion. Steeling yourself, you manage a smile that you hope passes as genuine.

“Nothing, I’m just ...” Your excuse dies in your throat as you look past him towards the crowd once more.

Carlos Sr. is shouldering his way through the mass of staff and media, pushing towards his son. He’s waving and grinning from ear to ear as Carlos straightens up, delight overtaking his features. The second the older Sainz’s feet cross the barriers, Carlos drops everything and bounds over, hauling his father into a tight embrace.

They laugh and cheer as Carlos pumps a victorious fist in the air, the other arm wrapped securely around Carlos Sr. You can’t hear what they’re saying over the noise of the crowd, but it doesn’t matter. Their body language says it all.

Pride. Joy. Celebration. A bond forged in the fires of hardship and sacrifice, of a lifetime pursuing the most elite level of a deadly sport.

Father and son, reveling together in the sweetness of hard-earned success.

Your throat constricts painfully as you watch them, your own arms wrapping protectively around your middle. How many times had you dreamed of recreating this exact moment as a young girl? Crossing the chequered line in first place, only to be swept up in a boundless hug by a beaming, triumphant father?

You remember pretending with your childhood race cars, standing on an overturned bucket that served as your make-believe podium. You’d mimic the anthems and champagne sprays, then launch yourself off the “top step“ and into the arms of an imaginary Ayrton, dreaming about what it would feel like to bury your face in his shoulder as he swung you around, both of you dissolving into happy laughter as you celebrated together.

Of course, those were only childish fantasies even then. By the time you were old enough to understand racing, to grasp what your father did and meant to the world, he was already long gone. You never got the chance to make those podium daydreams a reality.

And you never would.

The harsh truth is like a bucket of ice water over your head. You’re vaguely aware of your sunglasses slipping down your nose as your eyes burn with unshed tears. Angrily, you blink them back, steeling your jaw.

Now is not the time.

You plaster on the brightest smile you can muster as Carlos and his father turn back towards you. Throwing propriety to the wind, Carlos Sr. comes up to engulf you in a tight hug, the scratch of barely-there stubble rasping against your cheek.

“Another stellar drive, mariposa,” he praises in his thick, warm accent as Carlos laughs in delight beside you. “Keeping this one on his toes, I see.”

Despite your fragile emotional state, you can’t help but grin at his spirit and affection. “Always,” you reply, squeezing him back firmly before pulling away to make room for Carlos.

Almost automatically, you take a step back to give them space. You have no wish to intrude on what should be their private moment together. And sure enough, no sooner have you retreated than Carlos is wrapping his arm around his father’s shoulders, guiding him towards the edge of the pit lane where Ferrari representatives are waiting.

You hang back, a sad smile playing across your lips as you watch them go. All the teasing and laughing, the play-fights and unbreakable bonds of family you wish you could have experienced for yourself play out in vivid detail before your eyes.

Off to the side, almost like an afterthought despite your place right beside him on the podium. Just … watching.

Slowly, you turn away, the roar of the fans and celebrations fading into the distance as you head up the ramp to the McLaren motorhome.

A thousand wistful memories drift through your mind. Muted footage of you as a newborn cradled in your father’s arms, grinning up at him in pure innocence and adoration. Photos of Ayrton gazing down at his infant daughter with a look of such unconditional love that it breaks you all over again.

No matter how many trophies you win or records you break, that will always be the one achievement he never had the chance to witness. You’ll never experience a father’s unadulterated pride at his child’s success.

Your breath hitches as you finally reach the solitude of your private room, sinking onto the plush sofa as the tears begin rolling in earnest. Who are you kidding? As much as Carlos and his family envelop you in their warmth, as much as you are unquestionably part of their clan now … there is always going to be an empty space in your heart where a father’s love should be.

You bury your face in your hands, ignoring the wet streaks smearing across your knuckles as you try in vain to compose yourself. You can’t be like this, falling apart every time. Carlos deserves to revel in one of the greatest wins of his career. He shouldn’t have to devote energy to consoling you, not after a spectacular drive like that.

A soft knock at the door startles you. Swiping hastily at your cheeks, you suck in a shuddering breath and call out. “Come in.”

The door opens, and of course, it’s Carlos. Because even in the midst of unbridled jubilation, he senses your inner turmoil. He steps inside, the happiness draining from his expression as he takes in your blotchy complexion and reddened eyes.

“Mi amor,” he breathes, crossing to you in two quick strides and gathering you into his arms. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his sweat-damp race suit as he rubs soothing circles across your back. “Talk to me, cariño. What’s got you so upset, hmm?”

You want to explain, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you simply shake your head, a few errant tears slipping free to wet the material covering his shoulder. Carlos doesn’t push, just holds you close and lets you cry it out against him.

Eventually, you find your voice, thick with emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your celebration like this. You should be out there enjoying your win, not consoling your mess of a girlfriend.”

“Hey now,” he chides gently, tipping your chin up to meet his concerned gaze. “None of that, mi alma. Your feelings are never something to apologize for.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear from your cheek. “I know today was … difficult. Seeing me with my dad, it brought up a lot of old hurts, didn’t it?”

You let out a watery chuckle, amazed as always by his intuition when it comes to your innermost struggles. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows and loves every facet of you,” he replies simply, stroking your hair back from your forehead. “Will you tell me? Let me in on what you’re feeling so I can try to understand?”

Taking a shuddering breath, you nod and disentangle yourself enough to sit beside him on the couch. You keep one of his hands linked with yours, anchoring you as you gather your thoughts. “It’s just … out there on the podium, when I saw you and your dad together ...” You pause, blinking rapidly against a fresh swell of tears. “It reminded me all over again of what I’m missing. What I’ll never get to have.”

Carlos’ expression softens with understanding and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, silently urging you to continue. You draw strength from his presence beside you.

“You two have this … bond. This connection, like you’re the only ones who truly understand each other’s perspectives. And I’m envious, Carlos. So envious of the lifetime of love and memories that exists just in the silent communication between you.” You let out a mirthless chuckle, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks. “God, that sounds so pathetic when I say it out loud.”

“No, mi vida.” Carlos is firm, his eyes shining with sincerity. “Not pathetic at all. You’re allowed to feel that longing, that sadness over being deprived of something so integral.” His free hand comes up to cradle your jaw, calloused thumb stroking along your cheekbone. “You miss your dad. You mourn not having that relationship in your life. Those are entirely valid feelings to have, especially on days like this when I got to share my joy with my own father.”

You lean into his touch, fresh tears spilling over at his words as your breath hitches. “It’s like … no matter what I accomplish, no matter how successful I become, there will always be this hole.” Your hand comes up to clasp his wrist, holding him close. “Because he never got to see it. He never got to be that person cheering me on, taking pride in my achievements. Instead, I’m left imagining what it would be like, watching you and your dad and aching for something I can’t have.”

Carlos’ eyes turn molten, brimming with empathy and sorrow for your pain. Slowly, he guides you forward until your foreheads are pressed together, his breath fanning across your lips.

“Mi amor … I can’t replace what you’ve lost, or take away that regret and heartache. All I can do is promise to spend every day showing you how proud I am of you.” His fingers thread through your hair, cradling your head tenderly. “You are the strongest, bravest, most amazing woman I have ever known. Watching you out on the track, giving everything you have with that same fire and spirit as your father … words can’t express how awestruck I am. How honored I feel to witness your brilliance and passion race after race.”

You suck in a sharp breath at the reverent tone in his voice, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks at the depth of feeling behind his words. Carlos tugs you even closer until there’s no space between your bodies, until you’re sharing the same air in an intimate embrace.

“I only wish he could see you the way I do,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours with each word. “I wish he was here to feel the immense pride and adoration I feel every single time you leave me breathless behind the wheel.” A tender, lingering kiss punctuates his words. “You are your father’s greatest legacy, mi alma. And I will spend every day showing you that, if you’ll let me.”

A choked whimper escapes your lips as you surge forward, capturing Carlos’ mouth in a searing, fevered kiss. You pour every ounce of overwhelmed emotion, every bit of ardor and heartache and gratitude into the heated glide of your lips against his. His arms band around you like steel cables, holding you impossibly close as the kiss turns bruising, desperate, all-consuming.

When you finally pull apart, you’re both panting harshly. Carlos’ pupils are blown wide, lips red and swollen and thoroughly kissed. He stares at you with such naked adoration, such devotion, that it steals what little breath you have left.

“Thank you,” you rasp, cradling his face in your trembling hands. “Thank you for loving me so completely. Despite all my broken pieces, you see me at my core and still chose me.”

He leans into your touch, lips brushing your palm. “There is nothing to thank me for, mi amor. You are the sun, I’m merely lucky enough to orbit you and bask in your warmth.” He places another soft, lingering kiss to your wrist, right over your thundering pulse. “I am yours, corazón. Every piece of me, for every piece of you. Never doubt that.”

A fresh wave of emotion rises up, this one filled with pure, dizzying love and affection for the incredible man kneeling before you. Pulling him up, you simply hold him for a long moment, relishing his solid strength surrounding you in the protective circle of his arms.

Here, in his embrace, the ache of your father’s absence dulls to a faded echo in the corners of your heart. Here, you can breathe easy, reassured and loved down to your very core.

Eventually, the sounds of celebration filter in through the door — your team must be getting restless waiting for their driver. Carlos seems to hear it too, huffing out a quiet chuckle against your hairline.

“We should get out there, hmm? Before both of our teams send a search party for their drivers.”

You nod, but make no move to disentangle yourself, soaking up his warmth and steady presence for a few more selfish moments.

When you do finally pull away, there are fresh tear tracks on your cheeks but also a peaceful smile gracing your lips. Reverently, you run your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at Carlos’ temples as his eyes flutter closed, savoring your touch.

“I love you,” you murmur, the words seeming impossibly inadequate to convey the depth of feeling they represent. “Endlessly, meu amado.”

Carlos’ gaze when he opens his eyes practically glows with emotion, pure elation and adoration radiating from his expression. “As I love you, mi alma,” he husks, stealing one more searingly tender kiss. “Always.”

With twin smiles and your hands linked tightly, you exit the room together into the raucous cheers and celebrations. Outside, you can see Carlos Sr. surrounded by a sea of red, laughing and beaming with incomparable pride and joy at his son’s success. Your breath catches when he spots the two of you emerging, arms flinging wide.

“There are my superstars! Vámonos, we have a victory to toast!”

As Carlos tugs you forward into the chaos, his father enveloping you both in a crushing embrace and peppering your cheeks with scratchy kisses, you feel a sense of peace settle over you.

Yes, there will always be an absence where your father should have been, a hollow space in your heart shaped perfectly to his memory. But you’ll never truly be alone.

Not with Carlos beside you every step of the way. Not with his family’s boundless love and affection enveloping you, treating you as their own daughter. They are the salve for when that empty ache becomes too much to bear.

So you let yourself sink into the celebration, into the warmth of the Sainz clan and the sheer euphoria of your personal success. As long as Carlos keeps chasing his passion with the same fanatical devotion as his father … as long as you chase your own with every ounce of vigor and spirit that your father passed down through shared blood … then Ayrton will never stop watching over you both with immeasurable pride and a heart overflowing with love.

And for now, for today, that will simply have to be enough.

Days Before the Miami Grand Prix, 2024

The Miami sun sinks lower in the sky, bathing the hotel balcony in a warm orange glow. You lean against the railing, staring unseeingly at the cruise ships dotting the horizon. Your eyes are glassy, your mind a million miles away.

It’s been thirty years to the day since your father’s life was snatched away. Thirty years of living in his immense shadow, constantly reminded of the racing legend you never truly knew.

Your phone buzzes incessantly in your pocket, a steady stream of texts and calls offering condolences. Old acquaintances you haven’t spoken to in years, suddenly reaching out on this morbid anniversary.

What can you possibly say that the world doesn’t already know? That they haven’t already dissected and analyzed a million times over?

The harsh truth is that so many strangers have more vivid memories of Ayrton Senna than his own daughter. It’s a sobering reality, one that reopens that wound all over again every May 1st.

You feel numb, gutted, emptied out.

“Amor?” The familiar voice pulls you from your reverie. You turn to find Carlos staring at you with soft concern in his warm brown eyes. “Are you alright?”

You try for a reassuring smile, but it feels stale on your lips. “I’m fine, just … thinking.”

He sees right through you, the way he always does. Crossing the balcony, he wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting atop your head. You lean back into his solid embrace, drawing comfort from his presence.

“You know you don’t have to put on a brave face for me, right?” He murmurs against your hair. “Not today.”

You let out a shuddering breath, blinking back the sting of tears. “I know. It’s just … it never gets any easier, you know? All these years later and the wound still feels fresh.”

His arms tighten around you. “I’m so sorry, mi amor. I wish I could take the pain away.”

“You help more than you know, just by being here,” you reply thickly. A tremulous smile curves your lips as you cover his hands with yours. “Thank you for putting up with my melancholy every year.”

“You never have to thank me for that,” he says fiercely. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

The sound of the balcony door opening draws your attention as Carlos Sr. steps out onto the balcony, his eyes kind but assessing as he takes in the two of you embracing.

“Ah, lo siento,” he says apologetically. “I did not mean to intrude on a private moment.”

“No, no, you’re not intruding,” you assure him, reluctantly extracting yourself from Carlos’ arms. You turn to face his father, subtly wiping at your damp eyes. “What’s going on?”

Carlos Sr. hesitates, shooting his son a questioning look. Carlos nods almost imperceptibly.

“Actually, hijo, do you mind if I borrow Y/N for a few minutes?” Carlos’ father asks. “Hombre a hombre, as they say.”

Your brows knit in confusion, but Carlos just smiles faintly and drops a kiss on your temple. “Of course. I’ll be inside whenever you’re ready, mi vida.”

With a final squeeze of your hand, he disappears back into the suite, leaving you alone with his father on the balcony. The older Sainz settles into one of the plush lounge chairs with a slight groan.

“Please, join an old man,” he says, patting the chair beside him. You hesitate briefly before sinking into the indicated seat. An awkward silence stretches between you both.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Carlos’ father begins at last. “I am not usually at such a loss for words. But I find myself struggling to know what to say on a day like today.”

You manage a watery chuckle. “Trust me, you’re not the only one at a loss. I don’t even know what to say to myself half the time.”

He regards you with such tender understanding that it steals your breath away. “My dear girl, you have carried such a heavy burden on those young shoulders for far too long. No child should have to grow up in the shadow of tragedy the way you have.”

Tears well up anew in your eyes. “I just … I wish I could remember him, you know? Really remember him, not just what I’ve seen in videos or heard in interviews. It feels so unfair that the whole world has vibrant memories of who he was, but I’m just … left with echoes and fragments of a man I never truly knew.”

Carlos Sr.’s eyes glisten with empathy as he reaches over to take your hand, enveloping it in his calloused grip. “Listen to me, mija. While I cannot begin to understand the depth of your loss, I do know this — it is never strange to mourn someone you loved, even if you cannot recall the time you spent together.”

His words are like a soothing balm on the ragged wound of your heart. You squeeze his hand fiercely, struggling to keep your composure as he continues.

“Your father was ...” He pauses, seeming to carefully weigh his next words. “Your father was an incredible man, one who touched countless lives all over the world. But to you, he was simply your father. And that bond, that love between a parent and child, transcends memory. It lives on in here.” He taps his heart with his free hand. “In a way that no amount of biographies or documentaries could ever capture.”

The tears spill over, streaking down your cheeks. You make no effort to stop them this time. Carlos’ father merely watches you with infinite tenderness, his thumb brushing soothingly over your knuckles.

“I know I cannot replace the father you lost,” he continues softly. “Nor would I ever try. But I hope you know that our family … we love you as one of our own, mija. You will always have a home and a family with us, for as long as you desire it.”

A broken sound escapes your throat and Carlos Sr. immediately rises from his chair to gather you into his arms, his embrace warm and secure and achingly paternal. You bury your face in his shoulder, body shaking with muffled sobs as the floodgates finally burst open.

“That’s it, let it all out,” he murmurs, one broad hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Holding in such grief for so long, it’s a wonder you did not crumble beneath the weight of it long ago. You are stronger than you know, mija.”

You cry until you’re completely spent, until the front of Carlos Sr.’s shirt is damp and your eyes are swollen and puffy. When at last the tears subside, leaving you wrung out but strangely peaceful, he produces a handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabs at your cheeks.

“There now, that’s better isn’t it?” He asks, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles down at you. “I think my son may have plans to cheer you up, if you’re amenable?”

You let out a watery chuckle, feeling lighter than you have in days … weeks … months maybe. “That does sound nice.”

The elder Spaniard presses the handkerchief into your hand, then steers you back towards the balcony door with a gentle hand on your back. “Then what are we waiting for? That boy may look like me, but his sweet tooth is all his mother’s doing.”

You pause in the doorway, impulsively turning to throw your arms around the man who has, in many ways, become a second father to you. “Thank you,” you whisper shakily against his shoulder. “For everything.”

His arms tighten around you briefly. “De nada, mija. That’s what family is for.”

When at last you disentangle yourself, Carlos is waiting just inside, a bright smile lighting up his face at the sight of the two of you. On the counter, a cheerful array of pastries and confections beckons, the delicious aroma of fresh Brazilian baked goods enveloping you in a warm, sugary hug.

Carlos’ eyes are shining with love and relief as you cross the room to plant a lingering kiss of gratitude on his smiling lips.

“I love you,” you murmur when you finally pull back, cradling his face in your palms. “Thank you for being you.”

His forehead drops to rest against yours. “Always, mi alma. I’ll never stop loving you and being here for you, no matter what.”

You hold him tightly for a long moment, savoring his warmth and solidity. When you finally part, Carlos’ arm stays looped around your waist as he turns towards the dessert spread.

“So, I may have gone a little overboard at the bakery,” he admits with an unrepentant grin, waving his free hand at the sugary bounty. “But it’s been a rough day and you deserve to indulge a little.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling some of the lingering heaviness dissipate at the pure, infectious joy on his face. Leave it to Carlos to try and solve everything with baked goods and affection.

“Well, when you put it that way,” you tease, leaning into his side, “I suppose I can’t say no to that face.”

“That’s the spirit!” Carlos crows, beaming at you with such adoration that it makes your heart squeeze. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he scoops up one of the frosted confections and holds it up to your lips. “Open wide, mi amor.”

You obediently take a bite of the sugary pastry, the rich flavors of doce de leite and buttery dough melting over your tongue. Carlos watches you with rapt attention, his eyes darkening slightly as you slowly lick a stray bit of frosting from the corner of your mouth.

His father clears his throat loudly behind you. “Ay dios mio, get a room you two!”

Carlos has the grace to look abashed, but you just grin unrepentantly at your future father-in-law as he shakes his head in mock exasperation.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Carlos says cheekily, surprising you by suddenly sweeping you up into his arms bridal-style.

You let out a squeak of surprise that quickly dissolves into delighted laughter as he starts carrying you toward the bedroom, peppering your face with noisy kisses. Over his shoulder, you catch Carlos Sr.’s indulgent smile and parting wink before the door swings shut behind you.

The rest of the evening passes in a sugary, affectionate haze. For the first time in as long as you can remember, the grief feels bearable, soothed by the love of your chosen family.

While the ache may never fully heal, you have a newfound sense of lightness in your heart.

As you lay tangled in the sheets later that night, Carlos’ arm a grounding weight around your waist, you send up a silent thank you to whatever cosmic forces brought this incredible man into your life.

And maybe, just maybe, your father can finally rest easy knowing his little girl found her way to happiness after all.

[tender-rosiey]

hii! I hope youre doing well ^^ n I have a request!

Fatherhood Gojo, Yuta and Suguru (separate) seeing their daughter have a love interest

let’s say the daughter is like 4-5, just started school with a strong start, one day when they come to pick up their kid— they see a boy that’s also 4-5, giving their daughter flowers or something, how would they react?

(I can imagine mother!reader being delighted at the sight, gojo being dramatic, Yuta being stressed out, and Suguru having a polite smile but yet clenching his fist LMFAO)

“I WILL THROW HANDS AT ANYONE EVEN A KID"

— gojo, sukuna, and suguru seeing their five year old daughter with a love interest (f!reader)

a/n: here you go go <33 i am so sorry bae that I couldn't include yuuta 😭

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter is naturally charismatic.

satoru wholeheartedly believes that it is something she has inherited from him.

you disagree because you can’t remember anybody who remained friends with satoru after actually talking to him, aside from those forced to, of course.

now another thing that satoru believes is that said charisma is a double-edged sword. from one side, his daughter is able to make friends quickly which gives him a piece of mind.

on the other side, the thing that makes his vein pop is the fact that filthy dirt-covered boys approach her.

he thought he had solved that problem when he scared away that last kid during her ballet class , but it seems there are always people who are competing for her heart.

he didn’t expect to run into one today though, especially not one blatantly gifting her a bouquet in front of the school gates.

the kid is a blushing mess as he gives the bouquet to her, and your daughter is nothing less than ecstatic. she jumps around, really happy with her bouquet and squealing about how pretty it is.

the little boy smiles timidly as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, mumbling something that satoru can’t be bothered to care about.

the only things occupying his mind are two: the kid who dares to even speak to his daughter and you with your cute smile because you’re happy for her.

so, he arranges things as he prioritizes him.

he presses one big smooch to your cheek and squishes you in an ever so love-filled hug.

then he proceeds to make his way to deal with the kid who is making moves on his little baby.

he towers behind the boy, and before his little girl greets him, satoru carries the kid from his scruff and throws him in the ball pit conveniently placed beside him.

the kid screams as he falls into the ball-filled abyss.

hurriedly, he gathers his daughter in his arms and showers her with kisses. he nuzzles his nose into her cheek, “how was your day, honey?”

“it was so nice, papa!” she says happily them gets out the bouquet she was given, “and I even got this bouquet!”

“oh, really?” he hums as he takes the bouquet from her hands into his. he inspects it, distaste filling his expression.

you walk to him with a little pep in your step and place your hand around his shoulder, while you kiss your daughter’s cheek.

she squeals a delightful, “mama!” and throws herself into your arms.

you guys quickly get caught in your own conversations, not noticing satoru quickly releasing his technique blue at the poor bouquet making it effectively disappear from existence.

another day saved.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

being the daughter of ryomen sukuna had its perks.

people strayed away and kept their distance. however, your daughter was a natural sweetheart—ironic considering her father but anyway.

that meant that little boys around estate had a tiny little crush on her which they would never act upon since they do want to continue living.

of course, there is an exception to the norm.

and that exception came in the form of a little servant boy presenting your daughter with a bunch of flowers that he had plucked himself.

your daughter was taken back, and she got flustered but accepted the flowers, nonetheless. on the other hand, you were watching from the side lines and were cheering both her and the boy on.

it was an innocent little gesture between kids. no harm done, so there was no need for—

“what the hell is this?”

you feel your husband’s menacing aura, before you hear his words. you turn to him and rest your hands on his chest and say, “d/n got flowers! isn’t that cute?”

“I can see that,” he grumbles, pinching your cheek in annoyance then directing his gaze to the kids, “but why the hell is a little good-for-nothing servant approaching my daughter? in fact, these servants should not be allowed to talk to her so casually.”

“sukuna, it’s not that big of a deal. just let them be,” you huff, “it’s not like she will fall in love with him, and he will convince her to overthrow you when they’re older.”

your husband stays quiet for a few moments. the man looks like he is actually considering the scenario that you just suggested.

and judging by him slowly approaching the kids, sukuna is going to go with the “better safe than sorry” approach.

you quickly run after him and jump on his back, “love, love, I was joking! please don’t kill him!”

sukuna groans, “and why should I listen to you?”

“cause you love me, and I love you? and we’re husband and wife, y’know?” you smile nervously, and he sets you down, so he can look you in the eye.

“I don’t love you,” he states.

“so I don’t love you?” you inquire.

he smirks, “no, that’s different. you’re obviously infatuated by me.”

“no, loving you is an effect of you loving me, so according to you,” you turn your back to him, “I don’t love you.”

he is about to retort when he feels something holding onto his leg. he looks down, and he sees his daughter beaming up at him.

she raises the flowers as high as she could and chirps, “dad, I got these flowers!”

sukuna’s eyes snap to where the kid was and finds no one. he fled, and he didn’t get to memorize his face. he slowly turns his face to you, and you stand there smirking at him.

he quirks an eyebrow at you, “oh? well, I will deal with you later tonight.”

GETO SUGURU:

you were busy watching over your daughter playing with her playdate. the little boy was your neighbour’s son, and, in general, he was good company.

the boy was polite and knew how to treat your little girl right. similarly, your little girl cherishes him very much and always rambles about him at dinner.

now, initially, suguru was okay with it.

he thought that maybe she was excited about her playdate and that it would eventually wear off, but then she started talking about him every single day since she met him.

suguru prides himself on being rational and collected. he wouldn’t stoop down to a level that gojo would. gojo was a manchild, but suguru? suguru is a grown man, a husband, and a father.

so, no, he won’t do anything to the boy.

and he certainly isn’t rushing to the playdate location, so he can stop the boy from making his daughter talk about him more.

one of his curses was watching the kids, and said curse picked up on the boy sneaking a flower behind his back. suguru concluded that he was definitely going to give it to her.

your husband finally arrives, handing you your ice cream and kissing the top of your head, “your ice cream, just how you like it, love.”

“aww, thank you, suguru,” you say as you hug him and pepper his face with kisses. suguru gets lost in your affection, forgetting about his supposed mission.

it’s not until that he notices the boy’s parents standing with the two kids that he remembers it.

“how about we go and see what the kids are up to?” he asks you, a bit urgently, and you nod, knowing what your husband is thinking.

it’s lowkey funny.

the boy’s mother takes notice of you two approaching, “oh hello mr and mrs geto!”

“hello miss c/n! are the kids getting along well?” you smile while patting your daughter’s head.

the mother giggles, “more than well, in fact. our little boy has given little d/n a flower today!”

from the corner of your eye, you can see your husband’s smile tighten and his face get stiffer and stiffer by the second.

you take his hand into your own and slowly rub it with your thumb. it does little to calm him down.

he claps his hand lightly and steps in front of the parents and says kindly, “please take your little shi—”

he feels you kick his foot from the back and quickly corrects his wording, “please distance your ki—”

you discreetly stomp on his foot, and he tries his hardest to keep his smile. he sighs defeated and hangs his head low, defeated as he mumbles, “have a nice day.”

you nod in satisfaction, and your daughter giggles.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[liliavanrougelover]

How would they sleep with you?

Summary: How would the TWST boys sleep in the same bed as you?

Characters: All NRC students (-Ortho)

Warnings: None (?)

A/N: I'm suffering from TWST brain rot.

Riddle Rosehearts:

It depends on the day. Most days he’ll just fall asleep next to you, other days he’ll fall asleep in your arms. Sometimes he just wants to be held and what else is he supposed to do when you feel so warm? He can’t stop the way his eyes start to close or the way he starts to lose consciousness. He likes when he wakes up in your arms too. It makes him feel safe and secure. Maybe he should ask to be held more often.

Trey Clover:

Normally he’ll just fall asleep next to you. Really close though. Your shoulders will be touching but he won’t have an arm around you or anything. Of course, if you want him to hold you, he’s willing to. And if you want to hold him, he doesn’t mind. Just ask and he’ll do it.

Cater Diamond:

He’s a cuddly sleeper. Most days he wants you to hold him while he sleeps. Something about being in your arms just makes him feel safe. He especially loves that he’s surrounded by you. Sometimes he does like to hold you, especially when your head is resting on his chest. Not only does it feel nice to have you against his chest, but it’s nice to feel trusted by you.

Ace Trappola:

He wants you to sleep on him. Your head on his chest and the rest of your body between his legs. He’ll have his arms wrapped around your back and when he’s having trouble sleeping he’ll trace shapes into your back. And right before he goes to sleep, he’ll plant a little kiss on the top of your head.

Deuce Spade:

However you want. You want to be held, he’s holding you. You want to hold him, he’s snuggling into your arms. You just want to sleep next to him, he’ll face you so that you’re the last thing he sees before going to sleep. He really doesn’t care. However, his favorite is when he gets to hold you. It feels nice to fall asleep with you in his arms. He always asks if he can hold you, and if you say no, he’s fine with that. He’s not going to overstep your boundaries.

Leona Kingscholar:

He holds you or sleeps on top of you. His main goal is to keep you in bed with him and both of those are very effective. His favorite out of those two is sleeping on you. He gets to keep you there and sleep on his favorite pillow, it’s a win-win. Lets just hope the professors are willing to overlook your tardiness.

Ruggie Bucchi:

In your arms. He loves the feeling of being held. And I mean LOVES. He’s not used to being held. It's a nice sensation. He feels safe and loved and he couldn’t ask for a better feeling. Occasionally, he does like holding you, but that’s usually just when you’re feeling down.

Jack Howl:

He prefers to just sleep next to you. He does want to be touching you but he’s not a cuddler. He’ll hold your hand or have his arm wrapped around yours but he doesn’t cuddle. When he does cuddle, he wants to hold you. Holding you makes him feel better. But if you want to hold him and pet his ears, he won’t complain.

Azul Ashengrotto:

He’s a cuddly sleeper but he doesn’t want to admit it. When he goes to sleep he’s laying next to you, but when he wakes up he’s holding you super tightly. It’s like he’s scared to let go of you. No matter how many times it happens, he refuses to admit that he’s a cuddler (at least to other people).

Jade Leech:

Prefers to just sleep next to you. If you want to cuddle, then go ahead and hold him, but he won’t hold you back. He’d actually be amused if you hold onto him. Your arms wrap around him and he has to keep himself from chuckling. He didn’t think he’d like being held, but there’s just something about being in your arms. Maybe he’ll sleep in a little, just to stay in this moment.

Floyd Leech:

Do I even need to say it? Floyd’s a cuddler. He squeezes you. He doesn’t let up once. You can tell when he starts to fall asleep because his grip on you slightly loosens. When he wakes up and notices you’re in his arms, he’ll squeeze you until you wake up.

Kalim Al-Asim:

Cuddly sleeper. He’s holding onto you like his life depends on it. He mainly likes when you hold him. He loves to just lay his head on your chest and fall asleep in your arms. If he wakes up and he’s no longer in your arms, he’ll wrap his arms around you instead. He needs to be cuddling with you in one way or another.

Jamil Viper:

He’s a big cuddler. He loves when you hold him. And if you run your hands through his hair? He is melting. He’s so stressed all the time and he has to do so much work all day. Getting to fall asleep in your arms is the highlight of his day. It’s like all his worries fade away the moment he’s in your arms. If you find that he’s sleeping in today, just let him. He needs it.

Vil Schoenheit:

Cuddling improves sleep, so Vil is a cuddler. He wouldn’t be spread out all over you, but he would hold you in his arms. His favorite cuddling position is spooning. He likes to hold you against him. His sleep has always been good, but has improved since getting with you. Good job, you single-handedly helped THE Vil Schoenheit get better sleep.

Rook Hunt:

He doesn’t care. As long as he can sleep in the same room as you, he doesn’t care. He will sleep however you want. You’re beautiful no matter how you want to sleep. What sleeping position does he prefer? Whichever one you prefer.

Epel Felmier:

He likes to cuddle, but he never admits it. He thinks cuddling is a girly thing. He wants to hold you in his arms. He does move a lot in his sleep and has kicked you a few times. And fell off the bed. When somebody asks if you guys cuddle, he’ll deny and just say that he holds you. It sounds manlier to him.

Idia Shroud:

He likes to cuddle, but he doesn’t like to say it. He’s too embarrassed to bring it up. He will NOT initiate under any circumstances. You have to initiate. You have to ask for cuddles. Otherwise, he’ll just lay beside you. He’ll sleep on his back and just stare at the ceiling. He’s too tense to sleep when you’re next to him.

Malleus Draconia:

He likes to cuddle. You’re not afraid of him and he likes to have that reinforced by cuddling with you. Especially if you let him hold you. You feel safe in his arms, not afraid. He’s so happy. He’ll be smiling in his sleep just because he’s holding you. He does enjoy being held too, but mainly prefers to hold you.

Lilia Vanrouge:

To no one’s surprise, Lilia is a cuddler. He’ll just force himself into your arms. He’s nuzzling into you with a little smile on his face. He would also do this when you’re asleep. He’ll wait until he’s certain you’re asleep and crawl into your arms so you’ll be pleasantly surprised when you wake up.

Silver Vanrouge:

He likes holding you. He falls asleep before he can fully put his arms around you, but he loves holding you. If he wakes up to find that you crawled into his arms, he’ll be super happy. (You might not be able to tell, but it’s true). He has occasionally fallen asleep in your lap. It might not be his favorite position to fall asleep in, but it’s his favorite to wake up in.

Sebek Vigzolt:

Next to you. He can’t hold you or be held by you, because then he might be slower to react if something broke in. He can’t go through the extra effort to release his hold on you or climb out of your arms. The most he’ll do is hold your hand. It’s either holding hands or nothing.

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do SMAU for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she is a huge bookworm and he always so supportive about her passion And the Internet has gone crazy about it. Thanks :))

Bookstagram - Toto Wolff x BookwormWife! Reader

Plot: Taking a look through your bookstagram and how supportive Toto Wolff is of your love for reading. Encouraging you to pursue your dream of writing.

Credit to multibabydoll for the GIF

You loved reading and books. Before you met Toto, you used to be a bookseller and then worked for a publishing house. You actually met Toto because of the influx in Motorsport Romance's that made your company send you to a race to get some ... hands on experience and you ended up having your own sort of Motorsport Romance with a Team Principle.

You ended up marrying Toto and at first it was hard, but when COVID came and you ended up working from home since then so coming to the races had been much easier.

y/user

Liked by lucyscore laurenroberts and mercedesamgf1

y/user: My reads of the month! Really loved both of these and I can’t wait for book to from Lauren!

Book 1: Things We Hide From The Light by Lucy Score

Book 2: Powerless by Lauren Roberts

Tagged 2 People

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lucyscore: I’m glad you enjoyed this one!

-> y/user: it’s really good!

fan1: i love these!

toto.wolff: Is this the book you were reading on the plane?

-> y/user: Yes, the other one I read at the race track!

laurenroberts: babe! I’m glad you enjoyed! Come to a book signing and I’ll get you a proof of Powerful!

-> y/user: no stop! I’d love that!

DM’s

laurenroberts: Hey Babe, got an event on 29th November, in Florida. You want to come as my special guest?

y/n: id love that! Thank you so much for the invite! I’ll just need to talk to my husband. I’ve never travelled solo and I’m a nervous traveller!

laurenroberts: That’s fine! Just let me know as and when babe!

“Babe, can we talk for a second” you asked your husband as you walk into the kitchen where he is sat with his morning coffee.

"Yes honey what is it?" he asks looking over at you, pushing a glass of orange juice towards you.

"Well, one of the authors that I really like invited me to a book signing.."

"Oh that's amazing sweetheart. Are you going to go?" he says checking his emails not fully paying attention.

"Well, thats the thing. It's over a race weekend... and" you start but his head bolts up to interrupt you.

"You better not be asking for my permission for if you can go, you know you don't have to ask!" he says almost as though he's offended you with think that of him!

"No, no of course not. But I'm scared to go alone, you know how I am!" you explain and he nods remembering the last time you guys flew.

"Well, how about I buy you a nice first class ticket and make the experience worth it. I'll pay for a fancy hotel and a spa evening for when you land ... how does that sound" he grins pulling you into him kissing your forehead.

"You don't have to do that for me!" you exclaim feeling bad!

"Ah no honey, I do this all for you!" he smiles pulling you in for a full kiss.

y/user

Liked by stephaniegarber and ashleyposton

y/n: What do you guys prefer, Romance or Fantasy. I love finding quiet corners at the race track!

Tagged 8 People

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stephaniegarber: Did you enjoy it?

-> y/user: It was so good! I moved straight onto Legend! And Toto brought me OUABH!

ashleyposton: I see those outlines! Thank you for your review on goodreads!

olivia_blake: ahhhh, i hope you enjoy it!

fan1: Y/N is definielty a motorsport romance girlie considering she literally lived one!

->fan2: i forget about this!

"Baby, you have to stop packing so many books!" Toto laughs as he gets out his card to pay the extra bagging expense where your bags had ended up being overweight.

"I'm so so sorry! I didn't realize how many I'd take back with me, American Books are so much more floppy than the ones at home... even though I prefer our covers!" she answers, going to get her card out.

"I'll pay baby don't be silly!" Toto laughs tapping his card as air port staff come over and help you guys take the bags away.

"You are my little book worm aren't you!" he grins pinching your cheeks like an older lady.

"Stop!" you say swatting his hand away.

y/user

Liked by toto.wolff and others

y/n: Toto helped me rebuild my book nook AND took me out for a book haul! It's up on my YouTube now!

Link

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sarahjmaas: looks amazing!

toto.wolff: I'm happy to help baby!

-> y/user: BEST HUSBAND.

You and Toto had spend the day putting up the swinging chair, and making the room cozy with fairy lights.

He had started to organize your shelves in colour coordination order making a rainbow. You felt so bad when your need to have them in genre and alphabetical order took over.

"Baby, as incredible as this looks, I'm never going to find any books!" you argued and he looks and pulled out Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros.

"See I found you current smutty dragon book!" he smiles handing it to you and your eyes widen at the lingo he was using.

"Have you been... watching my videos?" you ask in shock.

"Mmmm yes honey. i find them very amusing!" he admits and you just stare at him in shock.

y/user

Liked by lewishamilton and toto.wolff

y/n: He looks like this so that I can look like this …

I LOVE MY HUSBAND

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fan1: shes so unserious ... lmao

fan2: and you look fab!

You were thankful that Toto worked as hard as he did, he treated you all the time and you treated him in return.

Your husband was so supportive and was without a doubt the best thing that had ever happened to you.

Taglist:

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[runningthroughthegarden]

dumb young love

1.9k words, summary: when art leaves you in the dust for tashi, a part of you breaks. after an argument art realizes how desperately in love he is with you.

request from @fangirlinc :)

you had gone and done the one thing everyone had warned you not to do. you had fallen in love with your best friend. i mean how could you not? he was handsome, charming, talented, funny, everything you could want in a man and more. you both had such bright futures ahead of you and just loved being in each others company. which is why you never felt the need to profess your love to him. but lately you've been rethinking this choice. 

you obviously knew how close art and patrick were, i mean you guys all practically grew up with each other. this dynamic never really bothered you, why would it? that all changed once tashi came into the picture. 

you had been there, at the match where it all started. you had come to support them like you always had, but within those few days something had shifted and you had no idea why. suddenly the boys were ditching you to go to a party you didn't even know they cared about. 

they had come back to you the next day, raving about how amazing tashi was and the night they spent together. you noticed a glint in art’s eye that wasn't there before, and you tried your hardest to suppress the jealousy you were feeling. 

that day, when patrick won the match, you couldn't help but feel relieved that art would remain yours just for a little longer. what you didn't realize is that art didnt care if patrick was with tashi, because he was still head over heels for her.

 

“hey are we gonna have dinner tonight?” you ask, throwing another tennis ball over the net.

“yeah, just gotta get back to my room and shower” art replies, hitting back the ball with a distraught look on his face. 

“is it tashi?” you sigh.

“what? no-no. i'm just stressed about my next match” he replies, walking over to the bench. 

“you're art donaldson. you’re never stressed about a match. c'mon just tell me” you say as you walk over to him. 

“its just. patrick called and all he can fucking talk about is how amazing tashi is. and then i walk around campus and all i hear is how amazing tashi is. no matter what i do i can’t escape her.” he confesses, putting his head in his hands.

“i can’t imagine you ever wanting to escape her” you reply, letting out a forced laugh. 

“what?” 

“cmon art, from the day you lost that match it’s like your entire world changed or something. i mean all of a sudden your whole life revolves around this girl” you scoff. 

“y/n i really don’t need this shit from you, i’ll see you later” he scoffs, picking up his bag and leaving the court. 

“art!” you call out, only for him to leave you there alone.

standing there you think back to when everything was fine. how art would link his pinky with yours as you walked. the way he would call you everyday when he had to travel for matches. the nights you spent in his dorm trying to cram week's worth of studying into one night. the way he would so effortlessly plant kisses to your forehead. the moments you thought he might actually be in love with you. but now all you had were those memories. 

 

before you knew it, all art was doing was hanging out and helping tashi train. he had been your training partner first, so it hurt like hell to be left in the dust. you decided to try and let it go and focus on winning your matches. your most important match was coming up and you couldn't let your silly love life get in the way. the one person you had always dreamed of being coached by was going to be at your match. so you knew you had to train like crazy to get to work with them. 

a part of you was hoping maybe art would see how amazing your match would be, and finally start paying attention to you again. but you knew you were holding onto false hope. 

 

the day of your match had finally come, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. this was such an important moment for your career and you couldn't shake those nerves. but you knew seeing art up in the stands would give you the boost of confidence you needed. 

the first set was about to start and you still didn’t see art in the stands. you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought that he might not show up. he would never do that to you. right? 

the first set had started and for a moment, the world around you started to fade. you may have hated tashi, but man was she right about tennis. you were performing flawlessly and you knew all the hard work was finally going to pay off. 

after winning your first set, you go back to your seat, taking a breather and still scanning the crowd for art. he was still nowhere to be found and you could feel your sadness turning into anger. deciding to use that as fuel, you prepare yourself for your next set. the rest of the game goes flawlessly and you know this is the best you have ever played. 

hitting the winning point, you stand in shock as cheers come from the stands. thanking your opponent you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face. that is until you spot art in the stands. you could feel all the anger and resentment you suppressed fighting to be released. this had been your best game yet, and there art was, to ruin it.

packing up your bag, you felt a presence behind you. all spectators and coaches were long gone so you knew exactly who was behind you. turning around to face art, you push past him not wanting to hear a word he has to say. 

“y/n please i-” art calls out, quickly catching up with you.

“you what art?!” you yell, turning around to face him.

“you forgot? you had homework? you lost track of time? oh better yet, maybe you were with tashi?” you continue, looking up at him. you could feel hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

he stays silent and thats all the answer you need. 

“oh my god you were” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“please just let me explain” art pleads, a look of desperation you’d never seen before. 

“today was the most important day to me. and i really thought that as my best friend you would at least care a little more. but i know where your priorities lay. and i'm done fighting for a spot i’ll never get” you say as tears quickly spill onto your cheeks. 

art’s hand reaches up to brush away your tears, but you step back. 

“stay the fuck away from me art” you choke out, quickly walking back to your room. 

 

the next few days were hell. spending each day crying in your bed, you had lost not only the love of your life but your best friend. you had gotten a call offering to be coached by someone you could only ever dream of working with. you should’ve felt happy, ecstatic even, but the last conversation you had with art was still ringing through your head. he had called you far too many times and texted you even more. but you had ignored every single one. the first day he came knocking on your door, but gave up after an hour of waiting. the apology flowers he had sent you sat on your desk. you had no idea what you were going to do. until, you got a text from patrick. 

patrick 

hi love, art told me about what happened im sorry. 

y/n

hi, you don’t have to apologize for him being stupid

patrick

do you want to hang out today? try to get your mind off of him

y/n 

actually i would love to

patrick 

meet me outside at 2

getting ready to see patrick was a highlight from these past few days. while you were enjoying your sulking you knew you had to get out at some point. going out to the courtyard, you see patrick sitting on a picnic blanket. your favorite foods and snacks were neatly laid next to him. you felt yourself genuinely smiling for the first time in a really long time. you spent the next hour eating your favorite meal and laughing at stupid shit with patrick. although your heart still hurt, you could feel your spirits rising. 

“thank you for this patrick, it’s all so lovely” you smile. 

“of course i’ll always be here for you” he gleams, pushing away the hair around your face and leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“what the fuck?!” 

you would recognize that voice anywhere. 

“art what are you doing here?” patrick stands up to face him. 

“oh i dont know maybe i go to school here? what the fuck are you doing here patrick?!” he replies, getting closer to patrick. 

“seriously y/n? you run off to patrick?” he questions, obviously distraught but you can't seem to place why. 

“hey you don’t get to blame her for this” patrick replies. 

“oh fuck off patrick would you let her speak” 

grabbing arts hand, you quickly lead him away from the public spectacle this was all becoming. 

“what the hell is wrong with you art?” you yell, shutting your room door. 

“i mean, you completely forgot about me for some other girl and now you're mad at me? none of this makes sense, you broke my heart. you don't get to be angry.” you continue, feeling tears brim your eyes. 

he paces for a second, running his hands through the curls you missed so much. 

“im in love with you” he stops, looking down at you. 

it felt like you were dreaming, like you were imagining the words that just came out of his mouth. 

“i always have been. i've just been so stupid about it. when tashi came around i threw myself at her because i thought there was no way you would ever feel that way towards me. and i know i fucked up by doing that, i really really fucked up. but when i picture my life i see you, i've only ever seen you. and seeing you with patrick, i was scared i lost you. i'm sorry y/n, i really am. i would do anything to take it back.” he confesses. 

“you’re so stupid!” you yell, pushing his shoulders. 

“ive been in love with you for like, forever!” you look up at him, confused as to how he never realized. 

“really?” he asks, pure shock all over his face. 

“yes! i thought it was obvious” you frown. 

before you knew it he was holding your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips. in that moment everything felt right, like the stars had aligned. 

“y’know i'm still mad at you” you look up at him, placing your hands over his. 

“trust me, i will do everything to make it up to you. i'm just glad you're finally mine” he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face as he kissed you again. 

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[berryzxx]

Not yet

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your not ready to tell Azriel's family your mates in fear of them not liking you

note: It's just Az being the standard and the cutest shit ever. Also its pretty short im sorry lovelies <3

"I don't want to. Not yet" I murmured to Azriel, snuggling closer to his warmth. His hands ran up and down my back, sending small shivers down my spine.

"And why is that, sweetheart?" He replied, his voice slightly hoarse from having just woken up, pressing small kisses to my face. I opened my eyes and tried to get used to the light in the room. It was a Saturday, one of the days Azriel was content to just lie in bed with me with no commitments for the rest of the day.

"I just...I don't think they'll like me. I know it's stupid but I don't know them well enough. What if they think I'm using you or don't actually love you? What if they convince you that I'm not good enough?" I waited for him to say something. I didn't usually have anything bad to say against his family but I was never comfortable around new people. Especially if they were such important figures in our court. A slight sigh left his lips "Y/n. Do you really think I'd stop loving you if one of them told me to?...not that they would"

I sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear, his heat suddenly too much. "No but it's not just that. Imagine I say something wrong. I know their your family but their also high lord and lady. What if I say something...I don't know politically wrong? They'll laugh at me and think how in the world are us two mates."

Azriel moved his arm around my waist and pulled me back to lay down on the bed, his hand moving through my hair in a soothing motion. "They will think nothing of the sort because you are perfect. But if it makes you feel better we can wait for as long as you want. Feyre was talking about inviting the wonderful florist tomorrow. Accept her offer and get to know everyone a bit"

I thought about it and slowly nodded my head. "Fine."

Azriel was right because Feyre did invite me the next day.

"Y/n! Oh these are gorgeous! You've outdone yourself" Feyre said admiring the bouquet I had prepared

I smiled and handed her the card with all my business details "Thank you high lady. If anyone asks where you got them from please give them this."

"Feyre, please. No formalities between us"

I nodded my head "Feyre it is then"

She turned her attention to the rest of the shop looking around the flower filled store "You have such a peaceful life. Living amongst flowers and smelling like roses all the time"

I let out a small laugh. Very peaceful. Sometimes a little too peaceful. "I suppose. Although it get's boring at times"

Feyre's eyes lit up in excitement "You should come to dinner tonight! It'll be something different for you and we can get to know each other more"

I thought about what me and Azriel had discussed earlier. Now was the perfect opportunity, to meet his family. "Oh...I don't want to intrude. I don't know-"

She shook her head "Nonsense. Your coming tonight. Everyone will be scrambling over each other to get to know you"

I looked around the store, hoping for a sign as to what I should do. The only sign I could see however was the open sign on the front door.

"Fine. I'll come. Thank you the for the invite high- Feyre"

She beamed and gave me a quick hug, slightly surprising me before walking out with her bouquet of flowers. I sighed. Well I suppose I better go home and change so I looked slightly decent at least.

*Dinner, a few hours later*

Azriel cleared his throat slightly before continuing "Did you want something lov- y/n?"

I paused and clenched my jaw at the slip up. The chatter at the table was luckily loud enough for no one to quiet hear what he was saying. This was the first time I had been happy for Cassian's loud voice. I shook my head "I'll get it myself, thank you" I reached over and picked up the dish, adding a few potatoes to my plate, trying not to gather attention towards us two. Really. Azriel wasn't very good at following instructions. If someone had heard that I don't know what I would have done.

Probably jumped out a window or something.

"Everything alright?" Rhys asked looking over at me first, then Azriel and then me again. I nodded my head quickly and gave him a smile "Fine, everything's fine" Azriel didn't reply merely nodding in agreement too.

I let out a sigh of relief when he turned away and took a sip of his wine. Luckily dinner passed with no other accidents happening. I watched as everyone took their seats in the living room, Feyre and Rhys cuddled up on the couch while the others sprawled here and there, Elain having gone up because of a headache.

Azriel stood half hidden by his shadows in the door way, I could sense him even though I couldn't see him without squinting my eyes.

Come to the kitchen. It's important

His voice echoed in my mind, his deep and low voice making me miss him even though he was just inches away. I got up making an excuse of needing water and walked over to the kitchen, past the dining room where we had just sat. Before I could process what was happening I was against a wall and Azriel's lips were on mine, his shadows cocooning us in a dark and peaceful bubble. He kissed me like he was starving and he couldn't get enough.

We finally pulled apart my hands resting on his chest "Azriel" I warned him, the lust filled look in his eyes ready to devour me. His hands ran up and down my body, my waist, my hips warming each part of me.

"I want to tell them. I want to tell them about my perfect and beautiful mate." He whispered his eyes dark and his hair falling forward onto his forehead. I pushed a strand away "I can't right now. I'm not ready"

I knew even if I shook my head once Azriel would understand. His hopeful expression dropped slightly but his lips remained in a small smile "Let me take you home now, sweetheart. I can't live without having you close to me"

I rolled my eyes but smiled all the same "Don't be so dramatic"

He didn't reply, instead tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "We're going" He said finally and winnowed us on the spot. I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone but all thoughts left me as Azriel looked at me with his devilishly handsome grin.

ignore any mistakes <3

tag list: @thelov3lybookworm @fieldofdaisiies @sheblogs @one-big-fangirl @kennedy-brooke @slut4acotar @cupidojenphrodite @artists-ally @thehighladywrites @claireswritingcorner @milswrites @riddlesb1tch

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 03/April/2024

Do you ever have a week where there’s so much going on, but it feels really good to tick so many tasks off your list?

Well, I had one of those weeks, hehe! :D

First up was finishing up all the edits to the demo section, which went super smoothly, and it was great fun reading the comments from them. I always appreciate how they take the extra time to write what they’re enjoying, or their fun reactions to things that happen as they edit!

Then it was onto social media days! The sporadic internet has still been a major obstacle, but I actually managed to get on long enough to get some asks done! That was great fun getting to do those and indulge in getting to talk about Wayhaven even more with you guys, hehe!

With the Patreon content, I worked on the sketch for Adam/Ava’s masquerade mask for the upcoming ball in Book Four, which was both awesome because I loved the ideas and inspiration I had for it, but also was nice to get some drawing in! That’ll be going up on Patreon later this month!

And then I even managed to get a massive amount done on Chapter Two! Way more than I expected yet again, so this chapter is seriously moving on at a pace! I was actually starting to think I’d get it finished next week…but then I decide to move a big chunk from the start of Chapter Three to the end of Chapter Two, lol.

The flow will be much better. Where it ended before would have been a great cliffhanger at the end of Chapter Two but it just…it didn’t feel like where it should have ended. So, moving that section now makes it feel more like the chapter I wanted.

This new ending section does contain more variation to account for love interests, etc, so will take a bit longer, but at least that means it will also make the second demo section that much more chunkier! :D

But the first demo section is now with my final set of readers, so hopefully not long until I get to share that with you all!

I hope you all have the most amazing weekend! We'll be offline as usual, so I'll update you all again next week! <3

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

steve harrington + friends to lovers maybe? definitely feeling lovesick steve rn 😮‍💨

Thanks for requesting lovely mal <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 698 words

The movie theater is dark, and yet Steve catches sight of you the second you step inside. His heart does a dumbass little somersault. 

“Y/n’s here?” he whispers to Robin, who’s sitting next to him and using her licorice as a straw. On his other side, Eddie’s kicked his feet up on the seat in front of him like a total asshole. 

“Oh, yeah.” Robin waves to you, and you spot them, heading over. “I invited her.” 

“You didn’t say she was coming.” 

Robin gives Steve a sideways glance. It’s tinged with a meaning he refuses to decode. “I didn’t realize I needed to check with you.” 

He huffs. You’re climbing the steps, still three rows from reaching them. “Move over by Eddie.” 

Robin turns towards him now, eyebrows raising. “You’re not serious.” 

“Go!” 

“Dingus.” She musses his hair spitefully as she stands, just so he’ll have to fix it, waving over her shoulder at you as you start shimmying down their row. 

You wave back, smiling bemusedly as you take her seat beside Steve. “Hey,” you say. 

“Hey.” He’s grinning like an idiot, and he can’t seem to stop. He wasn’t expecting to see you today. “Long time, no see.” 

You go a bit sheepish, the previews casting a red hue over your features. “Yeah, sorry. Work’s been keeping me busy lately. Three people quit at once, so everyone’s expected to cover until they can hire new ones.” 

Steve grimaces. “Yikes.” He has the urge to tell you to quit and let him pay for everything, as if that’s something he can fiscally manage or even remotely normal. “That sucks,” he says instead. 

“Yeah, hopefully it’s not for long.” You get comfy, slipping off your shoes and putting your socked feet up on the seat. Your knees lean onto your shared armrest, within a pinkie’s reach of Steve’s hand. “I actually just got off, I didn’t grab anything from concessions because I was worried I’d miss the beginning.” 

“Oh, no way.” The movie starts, and he lowers his voice but neither of you turn towards the screen. “Want me to run and grab you something?”

You give him a funny smile. It makes your cupid’s bow flatten out and Steve thinks that if he were to kiss you, he’d start there. “No,” you whisper, “you shouldn’t have to miss anything either.” 

“It’s okay,” he promises you. “I don’t even really care if I see this.” He has been looking forward to it ever since he saw the commercial, honestly, but he’s happy to miss it for you. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, “but thanks, Steve.” 

“At least have some of mine.” Eddie shushes him loudly, and Steve kicks the underside of his knee, making the other boy curse. “I’ve got coke and popcorn, that okay?” 

The movie glows blue over your face as you grin, eyes twinkling in the low light. “Classics. But I’m not gonna take your food.” 

“I’m not gonna eat it all,” Steve argues. “These are both extra-larges. You think I bought that all for myself?” He absolutely did. 

You lean in closer, your knees touching the side of his hand. “You paid for them,” you whisper. 

“So?”

“So, I’d feel bad.” 

“Then make it up to me.” Steve hopes he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels. He’s never been able to lay on the charm with you like he can with other girls, he doesn’t know why. Or maybe he does. “Come with us back to my place tonight. We’re ordering pizza.” 

“So,” you murmur through a smile, “make it up to you by taking more of your food, is what you’re saying.” 

“Uh-huh, exactly.” He takes a sip of his coke and then angles the straw in your direction. “Deal?” 

You drop your eyes for a second, shaking your head like he’s silly, and Steve knows he’s won even before you meet his gaze again. 

“Deal.” You wrap your lips around his straw, sucking in a mouthful before letting go. “You drive a hard bargain, Harrington.” 

Steve grins, laying bay in his seat and totally not thinking about how his pinkie is grazing your thigh. “Yeah, that’s what they tell me.” 

[nr1chaedickrider]

I can only be me when i'm by your side - i'm not a monster.

As time passes recovering, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.

cw: fluff, smut, angst, petnames, virgin!reader, sweet girl!jihyo, popular but not so popular!jihyo, basketball player!jihyo, both are 18 but they are students, mentions of death, drunk confessions, they fall in love pretty fast, lwk rushed, lmk if there is more ^_^, ~ 4k words

if you're thinking "hm! i read this fic somewhere... yes! its my heeseung fic from my bg blog @adorwoo ! which i wanted to use for jihyo !^_^ hope you enjoy anyway.

men dni.

It's not your fault.

It's not your fault.

It's not your fault.

It's not your...

Is it really?

The rain beats down on your black umbrella, the lines from Dahyun's letter playing over and over in your head. It feels like you're trapped in a vicious cycle, not being able to think of anything else.

But why?

Why didn't she tell you?

Were all those conversations about the mutual trust between you two a lie? Was it just talk to keep you from worrying?

If someone had told you a week ago that you had to be at her funeral because she had killed herself, you would have laughed at that person. Dahyun was always the happiest person you've ever met.

Even if you had been told that a day ago, you wouldn't have believed it. Because in theory, it's the stupidest thing you've ever heard.

In his letter, she wrote about how much she loved you, how she enjoyed every minute and every moment with you, how it's not your fault that she's not here anymore.

She's probably right, not just probably. She's right, and you know it. But you can't stop blaming yourself. Someone has to take the blame. Someone is responsible.

You could have helped her.

You should have helped her.

Tears run down your cheeks as you stare at her grave. Her family, her friends, they are all gone. You stand here alone, not daring to leave.

'Kim Dahyun

Born on may 28, 1998.

A friend, daughter and lover.

She will continue to live in our souls.'

It feels like your eyes are glued to the writing, you can't look away. You try to regulate your breathing, taking a deep breath.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you place the white rose next to the gravestone.

You take one last look at her grave before turning and slowly walking away.

-

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all."

You look at the students in front of you, all of them giving you strange looks. Of course, you are a new student, but you feel uncomfortable under their gaze. The teacher smiles at you and tells you where to sit, next to a girl called Mina.

It's as if everyone has forgotten about you again as the teacher starts teaching. You sit down next to Mina and she smiles at you.

"Nice to meet you," she whispers. You smile at her.

You can't talk to her for long because she starts taking notes for the lesson. You look around at the faces of the others. It actually looks like a normal class, but your eyes land on a girl.

She looks shorter than you, her hair is brown as well as her eyes. She's wearing a white t-shirt.

"Have you laid your eye on someone?" asks Mina, laughing a little.

"No!" you answer, a little too loudly, and you put your head on the table as a few people look at you. "I was just looking at her," you whisper.

"Yeah yeah... that's what they all say" she says.

You slowly lose yourself in your thoughts as memories of Dahyun come flooding back.

Should you even look at other girls? Is it bad?

Would Dahyun hate you for trying to find love again?

It's been more than two months since she died, but you can't stop thinking about her.

Maybe it's normal, your behavior. Your overthinking of everything, maybe you're not the only person who feels this way? Maybe there is someone else who is just as lost in their thoughts as you are.

Maybe you are simply not alone.

However, your thoughts are interrupted by the bell and Mina.

"I can show you a few things here at school if you want," she suggests, and you gratefully accept her help.

You spend the whole lunch break running after her while she shows you around.

"Why did you change schools anyway? Your old one is a pretty well-known one, and much better than here," she asks, before taking a bite of her sandwich.

The question makes you wonder, and you think about whether you should just lie to her and say that you moved, or that you were somehow bullied at your school - but somehow it feels wrong. Because you neither moved nor were you bullied. No, everything was actually fine.

Actually,

Somehow everything changed after her death.

Your classmates started looking at you funny, and you still don't know whether they are looks of pity or looks of condemnation because they blame you.

"I don't know" is your answer, and somehow it's true. Sometimes you really have no idea why you changed schools, but Mina doesn't need to know the whole truth.

She just nods in response as she continues to eat.

"The girl you were looking at in English, her name is Jihyo by the way" she says.

What?

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.

"Because you were staring at her a lot - you looked really interested in her" she replies with a little grin.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I wasn't staring at her..." you laugh a little, but can't hide your despair. Why does she think you're interested in her?

-

"Watch out!" someone shouts, but before you can react, a basketball hits you.

You fall to the floor, your head hurts and you feel slightly dizzy as you slowly open your eyes.

The girl from your English class is kneeling on the floor in front of you, looking at you, trying to see if you're okay.

It's like a cliché high school movie.

"Are you okay?" she asks, a couple of other girls come over, but she just tells them to get something to cool off and shoos them away.

The things that can happen when you want to visit the gym...

You nod slowly, after a few blinks your vision is no longer blurry.

Another girl comes back and hands Jihyo a cold pack.

"Here, take this," she says and puts it in your hand, her hand on your shoulder to support you.

You hold it to your head, biting the inside of your cheek slightly from the cold.

Before she can say anything else, she is called by his coach, at the same moment Mina comes to you.

"I was looking for you," she says and helps you up.

You watch Jihyo jogging across the field before you leave the gym.

-

New week, new luck?

Every day you tried desperately to talk to Jihyo somehow, but suddenly she was always gone after class and you were never put in a group together.

But it looks like luck is on your side for once.

"Here's the list of groups, you have to give a presentation in pairs on a play of your choice," your English teacher announces.

You look at the picture projected on the wall.

Chaeyoung and Mina,

Sana and Miyeon,

Jihyo and Y/n,

Jeongyeon and...

Wait, what?

You read the list again and once more you see your name and Jihyo's name next to each other.

"Jihyo and Y/n," you say quietly.

"Are you happy?" Mina asks teasingly with a grin on her lips.

"Are you happy that you have to work with Chaeyoung?" you ask back - Mina doesn't answer.

Before your teacher can give you any more homework for the break, the school bell rings and everyone rushes out of the classroom.

You walk (or rather, run) to Jihyo who is packing her things away.

"Hey, I was wondering when we should meet," you say, and she looks up at you and smiles. You feel your cheeks turning red.

She puts on his backpack and stands up.

"How about Friday afternoon? My place?" she suggests and you nod.

She takes a pen from her pocket, "Give me your hand," she says, you are confused but do it anyway.

She opens the pen with her mouth, the cap between her teeth as she gently writes on your hand.

Her phone number.

It feels like she's giving you an autograph.

"Text me and I'll send you my address," she says, and before you can answer, she walks out of the room.

You look down at your hand and see a little smiley face next to her number.

You can't help but giggle as you look at it.

-

You stare at your phone - up to her front door and back down to your phone.

You are 10 minutes early and don't dare to ring the doorbell.

"You know you can just ring the bell?" someone asks you, you look up and see Jihyo smiling at you.

"I'm early, that's why-"

"Not a problem," she interrupts you.

She lets you in and closes the door behind her.

Her house is beautiful, modern and yet somehow old-fashioned.

"My parents aren't here, so I thought we could study in the living room," she says, and you nod, leaning your backpack against the table.

"Water?" she asks and you take it gratefully.

You drink a little before she sits down across from you.

You both leaf through the books, take notes, talk briefly about certain passages, but otherwise no one says anything.

Jihyo decides to break the awkward atmosphere.

"I wanted to apologize again, for the basketball," she says, and you laugh a little.

"You don't have to apologize, things like that can happen," you reply.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asks, and instead of answering, you are completely silent, thinking.

Memories of Dahyun come back while Jihyo looks at you and waits for your answer.

"Yes, I did, but she died a few months ago," you answer.

She nods slightly, "Can I ask how he died?" she asks in a quiet, polite tone, as if she really wants to make sure that she's asking something that doesn't hurt you in any way.

"Suicide," you say, short and meager, without many details (whether you know many details at all is another question).

She looks at you with a supportive look, one that makes you feel like she's really listening and that she really understands you.

Maybe she understands you even more than you think?

She puts her hand on yours with a slight smile.

"Thank you for confiding in me," she says, your cheeks slightly flushed, hers too.

You both look at each other for a moment before she lets go and you both go back to work.

-

If only the work had gone on for longer.

After the one meeting, you saw her every day of the vacation. Always with the excuse that you supposedly "need to add something" (does going to the movies together add something to your project?).

It's been more than a week since you first met.

"You're in love," Mina says as she parks her car in front of Jihyo's house.

"I-"

"Don't even try to find an excuse, it's all good" she replies with a small grin.

You both get out of the car and walk to her house, the music so loud you can hear it several meters away.

How Jihyo, who is slightly drunk, hears the doorbell is also a mystery to you.

"Hey guys!" she greets you, she shakes Mina's hand and gives her a kind of high five, she gives you a hug.

You smile at her as the three of you walk into the living room.

"I'm going to Chaeyoung," Mina whispers, or rather shouts, in your ear before disappearing.

"Y/n, do you want to play a drinking game with us?" asks Jihyo, you nod.

Maybe it was a stupid decision.

Jihyo and her friends (of whom you only know Jeongyeon) only understand drinking games to mean taking shots and asking stupid questions.

Either answer - or drink.

You always chose the second option.

After about 7 questions (maybe more, maybe less - you lost count of that pretty fast) you get up and say that you need some fresh air.

Since you've been to her house several times, you know where the upstairs balcony is.

It's quite big, with a parasol and two folding chairs. You sit down on one and close your eyes, your head throbs a little.

"Are you okay?" someone asks after a few minutes.

To your surprise (not really a surprise), Jihyo stands next to you before sitting down on the chair to your right.

"Yeah, it's just the alcohol," you say.

You and alcohol, not really a good combination.

Especially not when you're sitting next to the girl you're in love with.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" you ask out of nowhere.

She shakes his head, "I thought it was obvious" she says and laughs a little.

"I love you" you confess.

She turns to you, but before he can answer anything, you keep talking.

"I know we haven't known each other that long... a month?? more? less? but-... I just have this feeling with you that I only used to have with her"

"I thought I'd never feel it again," you say, a tear running down your cheek.

Jihyo looks at you, her eyes slightly watery.

Is she crying too?

"Y/n" she says, interrupting your continued rambling.

She gets up, kneels down in front of your chair, and -

kisses you.

Her soft lips on yours.

She pulls away after just a few seconds and you already feel like you miss her lips.

"I love you too Y/n" she says softly.

You look at her in amazement.

"Really?" you ask.

"That's why I asked if you had a girlfriend" now it all makes so much more sense.

She pulls you up and takes you to the guest room. She tries to lay you down on the bed but you pull her with you and she falls on top of you.

You both stare at each other and laugh a little.

"You're drunk, get some rest," she says, kissing your forehead.

"I'll be here when you wake up"

-

And she really is next to you when you wake up.

"Good morning..." you groan as you rub your eyes.

She smiles at you, "good morning" she says, from the look on her face you suspect she woke up just a few minutes before you.

You pull her closer to you by her collar and kiss her, she kisses you back while her hand is on your cheek.

The kiss is just perfect, gentle, slow, a perfect way to start his morning.

But it can also be perfect in another way.

It gets warmer under the covers as you continue kissing, she kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on it. You can't help but rub your thighs together a little.

"What about the others?" you ask.

"I kicked them out yesterday after you fell asleep" she says, continuing to kiss your neck, even nibbling on it, making you let out soft moans.

"Jihyo, I think you should know that I am a virgin" you say, your cheeks heating up a little in embarrassment.

She giggles a little, kissing you on the lips again.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about baby" she replies with a smile.

She gets on top of you, continuing to kiss you.

You think kissing Jihyo is the best thing in the world.

Her hands trail over your body, giving you a soft squeeze here and there.

"Can I?" she asks, her hand playing with the buttons on your pants.

"Please" you answer with a smile.

She complies and opens them, pulling off your pants and leaving you in your underwear.

You sit up a little, your hands on her waist, feeling up her muscles, especially her abs.

"Want me to take it off?" she asks, you nod.

She pulls off her shirt over her head, dropping it somewhere on the floor.

Your finger trails up his stomach to her bra, looking at her like she is a work of art (she definetly is one).

"Done admiring me?" she asks with a teasing grin, to which you reply "never".

She leans down again, kissing your face as she starts to trail them down till he arrives at the waistband of your underwear.

"Can I?" she asks again, "yes" you answer, already out of breath.

She takes your underwear off, her hands placed on your thighs as she leaves kisses everywhere.

You can definetly tell that she has a thing for kissing.

When she places a kiss right on your clit though, you let out a small moan.

She begins licking and sucking on it, making you grab her hair with your hands as your fingers curl deeper into her scalp, leaving a delicious burn.

She drags her tongue down as she circles your core, slowly entering it a little.

You let out more moans as you turn your head to the side, moaning into the pillow.

Her tongue feels so good when you realise that you are closer and closer to your climax.

"Jihyo- I think I'm gonna-"

"Let it out princess" she mumbles against your core, the vibrations of her voice stimulating you even more as you cum into her mouth.

She smiles at you as he sits up, watching you coming down from your high.

You smile back at him as your cheeks turn red again.

"Can I?" she asks, her fingers trailing down your soft skin as her nails scratch you a little.

You look at her hand, a few veins poking out, her fingers thin but long.

You look at her again, nodding.

You pulled her closer as she rubs your clit with her fingers, you suck in your breath as she slowly pushes them in, the little stretch burning in a way that makes you even hornier.

She slips them in completly, you let out a moan in response. She takes your hand with her free one as your fingers intertwine.

She starts to slowly thrust into you, kissing you again as her tongue explores your mouth.

"You're so tight baby.." she mumbles into your mouth.

You can't help but let out louder moans when she starts to speed up a little.

Her fingers drive you crazy, it feels like she is everywhere, you feel her everywhere in your body as she exits and enters you.

"P-please jihyo- faster" you moan out, and who would she be if she wouldn't listen to your wishes?

She speeds up her thrusts, kissing down your neck again as her hot breath hits your skin.

Your hand grips the pillow your hand is laying on, moaning against your arm as you can feel Jihyo curling her fingers.

She thrusts into you again before you moan loudly, cumming as your thighs close around her wrist, panting heavily as she lets herself fall onto the spot next to you.

You both stare at the ceiling, the only sounds the heavy breathing from you.

You move her hand to yours and intertwine your fingers. She moves her head to the side to look at you, smiling.

You think seeing her smiling is something you can never get enough of.

-

Idiots in love, thats how you two can be described.

The next few months were full of love. Kisses here, kisses there. It didn't even have to be sexual, no, it was always romantic, no matter what you did together.

After a few months, she gave you a ring.

"One day I'll buy you an expensive, real diamond ring and ask you to marry me," she said, and since then you've both worn the matching rings without taking them off once.

If only it had stayed that way.

It's late at night, you're lying in bed reading a book when you get a message.

"I love you,

I'm sorry" - from Jihyo.

You sit up and stare at your cell phone.

"What's wrong?" you type and send the message, she replies,

"I can't take it anymore"

She can't take it anymore?

You feel a twinge in your head as you suddenly realize something.

It's too similar to Dahyun's goodbye.

"I can't live in this world anymore" she wrote in her text.

You look at her location, and without hesitation you walk, no - storm out of your apartment and run to her.

She's not far away, a bridge situated over a river only 5 minutes away, and you think you've never been so grateful for anything.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to see anything while your clothes get wetter and wetter, the rain completly drenches you.

Again it feels like a cliché love drama.

Only maybe this time you have the chance to have a happy ending.

Your legs are burning from all the running as you arrive on the bridge.

"Jihyo!" you shout, the rain pattering loudly on the asphalt, forcing you to shout even louder for her.

Her bike is right next to her, one leg over the railing, her hands gripping it tightly, as if she's...

Scared?

"Y/n?" she answers, her voice low and shaky.

"Please..." you say as you walk slowly towards her.

She doesn't stop you when you take her hand in yours.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, she looks at you as a tear runs down her cheek.

"I-... I didn't want you to worry. I thought this feeling would go away if I didn't talk to anyone about it," she says.

Whether your face is wet from the rain or your tears, you don't know.

"Believe me, you have to talk to me, then it will get better," you say.

Her face comes closer to yours and, without answering, she kisses you.

You kiss her back, try to grab her so you can hold her closer - but she lets go.

Completely.

You slowly open your eyes, afraid of what you will see - but you see nothing.

No one.

The rain completely overwhelms you.

"No..." you whisper, looking down on the floor and picking up something shiny.

Her ring.

You look out over the railing and see the water turning slightly red.

It feels like you're trapped in a vicious circle, like you'll never find peace again.

You are trapped, with no way out.

-

While other people find the rain soothing, you find it to be more like torture.

While other people would stay indoors in weather like this, you're outside again.

Again in front of a grave.

But this time it's Jihyo's.

Everything feels too similar and you hate it more than anything.

"It's not your fault" is a sentence you started to hate.

You hoped so much that you would never have to hear or read it again.

"Why didn't you talk to me..." you whisper, as if she could hear you.

Your hand clutches the letter, it slowly getting soaked by the rain.

You don't dare to move.

"You knew what happened..."

All time does is passing -

"Why did you hide it from me..." Your voice is full of despair.

And all you ever do is grieve.

"Life without you is no way to live" the white flower falls on his grave -

just like her ring,

engraved with your name.

She helped you recover from Dahyun's death.

You just wish you wouldn't have to recover over her death alone now.

In another universe, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.

In this universe, you're left alone,

again.

[applejuicebegood]

I'm sorry if your ask box isn't open I was wondering if you wouldn't mind like an angst with jason todd where the reader is like the complete opposite of like his ex's like she's chubby and isn't this Amazonian woman but so she feels like he is with her out of pity and a huge miscommunication is going on because she doesn't want to bother jason with these self conscious problems she is facing

A/N: This shall be my first attempt at Jason angst so I really hope it's decent!! It will be fluffy towards the end tho dw. Thank you sm for the request dude!! CW: Body-image insecurity, self-doubt, anxiety Masterlist

You always had a complicated relationship with your body. Never fitting into the right molds of beauty provided to you.

Only to grow older and realise that this would be the only body you had in this life - you should love all the parts that came with it. Parts that you would see mirrored in sculptures of gods and paintings of royalty. Why shouldn't you be proud of the fact that it was bodies like yours that were the templates for worship?

And then you saw your boyfriends ex. It was during one of your book-shop dates, he pointed her out before quickly walking to the next aisle thinking that you would be right behind him. Hating that his comfortable bubble with you had been suddenly popped by the presence of a dead love.

But you were stuck, your feet nailed to the floor, gazing at this pillar of a woman. And suddenly the blaring buzz of weight-loss adds and the 'concerns regarding your health' filled up your head. Making you hang your head to glare at your shoes. Jason appeared, looking concerned that you didn't fallow. He came and touched his hand to your back. 'You ok ma'?'

You nodded and tucked your hand back into his, with a cold pit of doubt forming in your stomach.

The next few weeks was a confusing fix of dread and doubt, for the both of you. You became distant, preparing yourself for the eventual confession from Jason that he only got with you because he felt bad. Brushing off his sweet touches and offers for you to spend the night. Resulting in Jason trying to chase after you in fear that his blunt arrogance was driving you away. He was confused, and when he got confused - he got angry. Something he felt an infinite amount of shame regarding because what if his capacity to be stuck in this loop of anger was the thing pushing you away.

You, the one stable thing he found that was able to drowned all of it out. You, he couldn't loose, not because of him.

'Baby.. we- we need to talk' He said, standing from the couch as you tried to escape to the door. You had prepared yourself for these words. Preparing yourself for the stinging pain of loneliness that would fallow as he tells you that you guys should break up. 'Here.. let's just sit' He say's motioning to the couch. At least you would be near him just a bit longer. 'Listen... I know I'm a dick- and that I can be really difficult but.. but baby if I did or said something that's making you so distant.. you need to tell me'. He pleaded, taking your hand into his. This was not in the script you had conjured up in your head. He was supposed to tell you to pack up your stuff and leave. That he had gotten back together with Artemis, someone actually deserving of his praise and unconditional love. Someone who was actually pretty. 'What.. Jace- no.. you.. Wait what are you talking about?' 'I mean- you've been so distant and just off for like weeks now, and if it was something I did.. baby I'm so sorry' 'Your not..? never-mind..' You say, tucking your hands under your thighs. 'So.. did I do someth-' 'No! Gods Jason, no! You didn't do anything I just.. I mean I figured you.. I mean I.. UGh!' You stuttered, simmering in your own frustration. 'Its so stupid..' You mumble, the warmth of Jason's big palm rubbing over your tense back became the rope keeping you from the harsh pit of disappear you were about to be cast into. 'Baby, It is not stupid if it's got you like this. Please, just talk to me..' 'I.. like- I mean Jace, I'm not the prettiest of girls. I'm not skinny.. and I just.. I mean maybe you should be with some-' 'Don't even finish that' He said sternly, grabbing onto both of your shoulders. Making your glossy eyes meet his intense glare. He sighed, taking a moment to place his words in the right order in his head. 'If you think, for even a moment, I would ever fall out of love for you because of how you look- I'm going to throw you off of the balcony' 'Please don't' You giggled, the swell of tears building in the corners of your eyes. 'Is that was this is? You thinking you weren't good enough for me because of your body?' You nod, swiping the tears escaping down your cheeks with the back of your hand. Jason scoffed, seemingly in his own disbelief. He suddenly shifted from the couch to kneeling in front of you, taking both of your hands into his. 'So, not to sound like too much of a pig.. but baby, your body is one of the reasons I fell so hard for you. Your glorious.. every inch of you is perfect' He said. Your fingers reached our to cup his chin and jaw, those rich green eye's looking up at you so lovingly. 'No.. Jace I-' 'Yes. Yes you are. And if I ever start to say or think differently, you better fucking shoot me'. He chuckled, softly rubbing the sides of your thighs. 'But-' 'No'. 'I just-' 'Stop talking' He mumbled kissing your palm as your hand curled around his cheek. You felt whiplashed. This was so far from the expected outcome of this conversation. Weeks of starving yourself of his touch for a false premonition, all for it to end so suddenly. It was this quiet revilement of your doubts. As you looked back into Jasons sorrowful eyes, it was like a fire catching to greater heights as you remembered just why you fell for him. He stood suddenly and bent down to sweep you up from the couch and into his thick arms. Your hands immediately wrapping around his neck as he pressed soft kisses around your cheeks and nose. "Wa- Jay! What are you-?' 'I think.. you are in need of some lovin' tonight Miss L/N. To make up for all this distance.. you owe me that' He said, making his way to his bedroom as his lips traveled down the curve of your neck.

[pomefioredove]

Hi !! I love your writing! I think you've nailed the twst characters personalities really nicely <33

So if possible, I'd like to have some hcs Sebek, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil and Deuce would realize that they have a crush on the reader (in which the reader is basically their closest friend atp) and how'd they'd react to it. Would they be the type to shove it back down or get it over with? Something else entirely, maybe??

Hope this isn't too much. Thank you in advance! Take all the time you need!

hii first off thank you so much!! <3 and ofc ofc I LOVE pining (and friends to lovers?!)

pomefiore part

summary: how they would have a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: deuce, jack, ruggie, jamil, sebek additional info: romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu except in sebek's part because I found it funny, reader is gender neutral, deuce is a cutie patootie

𝐃𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

oh, he is in utter turmoil about this

on one hand: he really, really likes you

you're such a wonderful person

the kind of partner he'd be proud to introduce to his mom

on the other hand...

he really, really doesn't want to mess this up

you already have such a great thing going on as friends!

if he ruined that, he would literally never forgive himself

and Ace would make fun of him for it until the very end of time itself

so, of course he just sits on these feelings. maybe if he focuses on something else, they'll go away?

spoiler alert: they do not

they definitely do not

if anything, trying to ignore them just makes it worse for him; suddenly he's becoming an entirely different person around you

it's like a switch is flipped the second you're in the room

he becomes clumsy, easily flustered, can barely string a sentence together

Ace gives him hell about it, of course

and when there's no hope of hiding it any longer, he just confesses

(not that it wasn't obvious already... but for his sake, you'll have to pretend like it's shocking news)

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥

he's actually... pretty upfront about it?

once he's got his feelings on the matter sorted, anyway

...which takes him a few weeks

when he first recognizes his crush on you, he pours himself into his training

not as a distraction, really; he just finds it easier to think when he's working out

he really does want to think this one through

much like Deuce, Jack understands that he'd put the friendship at risk if he were to confess

unlike Deuce, however, he's somewhat aware that ignoring and hiding is a coward's way out, and will only push you away

so, once he's very sure about his feelings, he confesses

it's not exactly like a confession, though

more of a... lecture?

just informs you that he's developed feelings, doesn't want them to affect the friendship, and leaves the decision up to you

won't freak if you don't reciprocate, but... he might be a little bummed out

okay... more than a little

𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢

first thought: he doesn't have time for this

Ruggie has a job, school, and a whole neighborhood to feed back home

now a partner? no, that's completely out of the question

besides, it's not like you'd ever reciprocate. who'd wanna spend every date eating dandelion salad?

no one, that's who

of course he doesn't bother asking, but he assumes that goes without saying

but he's busy enough to put those feelings on the back burner and deal with them some other day

...if only he wasn't so distracted by thoughts of you, that plan might have worked!

by his third slip-up, Leona's had enough and demands he's gotta sort out whatever's bothering him if he ever wants to show his face there again

(he might've been in a bad mood)

but, unfortunately, Ruggie knows he's right

it's better to be rejected now than to spend the rest of his school days mulling over it

so, he just spills the beans, as plain and simple as possible

tries to walk away as soon as he's done so he doesn't have to see the look on your face

you can imagine his surprise when you pull him back

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

actually has a pretty similar reaction to Ruggie

Jamil can't possibly fathom having a partner in a world where he doesn't even have his own freedom

in a sense, he just doesn't want to drag you into his life

in another, more important sense, he would be devastated if you rejected him

so he just... ignores it

of course, Jamil knows that pretending the feelings aren't there won't do much, but he doesn't really have a lot of options

he's not one to talk through his feelings, after all

not that anyone asks...

and his ability to interact with you as if nothing is different is astonishing

even if it feels like he's melting inside

though, you may catch him smiling more at you these days

he just can't help himself

when he's got his other stuff sorted, you'll be next on the agenda

𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐙𝐢𝐠𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭

you claim to have no magic, and yet you bewitch him into caring about you just as much as his liege?!

well... maybe not as much...

but close! very close!

even admitting that to himself feels like high treason

nonetheless, you have to be something very special to distract him from what he calls his "true purpose in life"

he sees you and feels... ill?

he's light-headed, he's dizzy, his stomach feels funny...

and he's been thinking about you more so than usual

yes, you're friends... he'll even admit he's grown quite fond of you in comparison to the other people you call "friends"

but this is... unusual

surely, you've placed some kind of curse on him!

Silver is the first to hear about it

poor boy is too tired to deal, and so he passes on the problem to Lilia

who just chuckles and makes a lot of odd references and metaphors that no one of this century would understand

no, Sebek has to come to the conclusion that he likes you all on his own

(like-likes you)

and after some pestering from Lilia, he admits that perhaps you and he could protect Malleus... together!

(he's going to have to work on the wording of that confession)

[argreion]

"Soft/smutty requests" you say, I can only think about comfort sex.

Putting it in short, reader is having a really bad day, or week, or month, too many thoughts about the future. Leon also is at his limit, back from a mission that lasted two weeks, mf got an injure he can barely stand.

Both exhausted with the head full of shit, not even a word is spoken during dinner, not even to ask why this man walks like he has a stick up to his ass. But when it's time to sleep and the lights off, that's when the heart opens. Cuddle and chatting session to catch up, turning into a slow fuck, full of kisses and the love both starved the time he was gone, of course, careful not to make his wound worse.

May not be a proper request, I've never done one, but feel free to expand the concept!

Sun-kissed

“Words are where most change begins.” — Brandon Sanderson

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — P in V/Riding, soft loving sex turned into Leon wanting pussy 'cause I said so. Lots of praise and sappy talk. A tiny bit of degradation. BIG hint towards cunnilingus. Talk of Leon's pain (suicide talk, drinking, possibly overdose talk cause I forgot if I kept it in. Alongside tiny blood and gore talk if it counts.) Stupid cringey argument over a table, because tables have FEELINGS.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 7.4k

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — So, uh, hi! UHM, I yapped a lot. I actually really enjoyed this! Uhm, I don't think really counts as comfort sex anymore considering this was an ask from two weeks ago BUTTTTT, I did go a lot into comfort and talking and emotions! Think it balances out! Kind of scared to post this but I know I got my moots love on this! Keeps me going! This MIGHT be shittily written cause lazily edited it so if there are mistakes you didn't see anything.

Please, make Leon wear his back brace and take his medication after he's home (P.S. don’t let Leon know we’ll be going to bingo.) — Ingrid.

Your eyes ran over the pastel yellow note from the bottom of Leon’s pill bottle. Standing in the bathroom with a hand on your hip. Brows furrowed at this peculiar find. That was odd, wondering how the government could sneak notes under pill bottles. First, it was learning who Hunnigan was and then realizing what kind of sneaky woman she could be when needed. Felt good to have her as a friend sometimes, even when it was her being on Leon's case.

That was before Leon arrived back at your front door. His arm pressed against the door frame with the most painful grin ever. Leon's teeth clenched and his breath stunk—doubt he even had mouthwash or toothpaste on hand on a mission. Not to mention the dirtied clothes, reeking of gore, and gunpowder. Your nose wrinkled at the smell and your sinuses hated it.

“You stink.” You stated the observation out loud. Hoping he’d explain, but he didn’t.

“Don’t ask about work.”

Leon brushed past you, stumbling against the wall. The grime on his shirt now taints soft colors on the painted wall. Of course, you helped him—that’s human decency—gently pushing the man to sit on the sofa, squeaking as his weight hit the cushions. Watching the dip on the sofa from his weight.

“Well, Leon," You started, reaching out to help him with his shirt. This had become the norm—the one routine you did every time he came back. Strip, bandage, bath, sleep, followed with food after he woke up. “You don't expect me to be curious when you come home stinking of ass? And you're—"

Your words caught in your throat as Leon helped you remove his shirt. Letting the stained fabric fall onto the floor, revealing many things you didn't wish to see—heaven forbid it came from Leon. Cuts, bruising, and a gunshot wound. Anger filled your body as you stared at the artwork. Is this even art? If so, it's beautifully grotesque.

“Don't ask about work, huh?" You repeated, tilting your head with a raised eyebrow. Won't even talk about work, but he'll make hints about Raccoon City like it's nothing. Nobody even knew what happened to Raccoon City still, but many could guess.

“Don't look like that, you'll get more wrinkles." The man smirked, using his fingers to flick your nose. Laughing at you flinching back and smacking at his arm.

“Dipshit, do you think this is the time for jokes!?” Concern boiled over into rage at his nonchalant attitude. Flicking of a nose, a joke, smirking, did he not value himself? Could a man not value himself but rather his looks? The jokes he makes that rarely hit and often made you cringe at the cheesiness.

Sometimes he didn't, did he? A year ago you remember when Chris pulled you along into a bar in Colorado. Colorado. You remember what Chris said without delving too deep into what was your mind,

“I wouldn't want you here unless it was needed. Please, talk to him." 

Sitting there with tired eyes he was. A bottle of ‘Aerial Shot’ in his hand. Worn biker gloves with the stench of sweat and unwashed leather. You'd never seen him look so dead before. 

The worst part was meeting his gaze. Awkwardly taking those seemingly quiet steps to sit beside him. What do you say to a man that's dying? Leon should've already been dead at this point. Gunshot wound, infected, surviving things. No wonder he never wanted to watch The Walking Dead. Why'd it take you a year to understand that? Guns and brains set him off, as did drinking too much.

“You're probably wondering why I'm here, huh?" You chuckled, staring down at the table. Blessing Chris and Rebecca for the heart-to-heart—one chance to get through to a stubborn man.

No response came from him. Body language said a lot for him instead. Tense, grip tightening on his shot glass. Impregnated silence… Was he that bad at saying a yes or no?

“This is the part where you say yeah, Leon."

He sighed, leaving you alone at the table. Picking the bottle up alongside himself like it's his baby. Did a bottle ever go ‘guu’?

Your hands laced together as you heard the gentle thumps of his boots slowly fading into the background. Chris wasn't happy, you could hear the steam coming from his ears. Wanting to cause a scene because someone was too much of a depressed loner to talk.

No, he just needs something firmer. Strong. Get the damn fucking bastard out and off of his own arse.

You moved out of the chair to follow after Leon. He always disappeared into the bathroom. Hope was something powerful, something you always had for Leon. Hoping he changed slightly, hoping that he could be changed. 

Slamming open the bathroom door to reveal that Leon was splashing his face with the sink while washing the ghost that haunted him. Their screams, tearful eyes, the sounds of people eating each other alive. Then there was you coming to lecture him on the right path—something he knew he didn't need. 

Your hand grabbed at his shoulder, halting his frantic washing. Overlooking him like his disappointed mother. Brows furrowed like her, too. Made him crumble into shambles as you reminded him so much. Remind him of an angel from the heaven he heard of. Why must you haunt him so?

“Stop avoiding this, Leon."

"You shouldn't be here at all. Chris is an idiot for even bringing you here." He snapped, shrugging your hand off of his shoulder.

He buried his head in his hands, groaning. Alcohol wasn't saving him from this vacation nor the stare of the woman he loved. Where was God when you needed him? Your angel was mean, father, mean for making him realize things. 

“Look," you started, moving his hand away from his face. “I'm here on personal matters too, not just because Chris wanted me here." 

Your arms encircled him and your chest pressed against his back. Looked like you were a koala on its mama. All snug and warm, despite the smell of a sweaty old man.

“They need you, Leon—I need you." The whisper fell from your mouth and into his ear. How'd animators draw flowing notes of music? Each word hit his heart, especially the last three.

At Leon's core, he was still like he was when he was twenty-one. Human.

Your hands moved over his, holding them. Protecting him from the mental battle in his head. You knew how much it meant to him to have you here. Regardless if it was after a fight, or when he was drinking.

“I know it's probably hard, ok? Killing things, coming home aching, and getting no break. I can't help you because I'm not exactly qualified for what you do, am I?"

The small sounds of you shuffling caught his attention. A small movement and you came into his peripheral vision. Standing there with a kind smile. Please, go away.

"I also know you probably don't want me here either. It hurts to know you can't avoid certain things. You probably couldn't avoid Chris. Just be glad it's me and not him… He's, well, something else with emotions.” You laughed, looking away from him in the mirror. Staring at yourself in the mirror then at him.

Staring at him made you realize a lot. Pain and resentment emanating from him. With each rise and fall of his chest, you could see it more. Even when he met your gaze at the mirror. You wish he got help.

Sometimes the value of man could be seen through gazes, words, and even their hands. Body language said a lot, and so did their responses. You thanked yourself and Chris for helping him become checks today. Well, mostly Chris. Sometimes, you couldn't help but think he needed something normal in his life.

Someone normal.

Something normal to him became jokes like these. Bleeding on a couch and there he was, flicking noses. Kennedy's charm never failed as you were defeated by his nonchalant attitude at home.

“Wrinkles, huh?" You sighed, kissing his forehead gently. Letting your nose rest in his hairline as you thought of what to do.

Ice…? A doctor's visit, too. Guess we're his little booker and Leon's the celebrity. The stunt celebrity who every day seemingly breaks his ass. What a silly comparison you thought of.

“Let's just make sure you're not dying, Leon. And then maybe we can have pasta. Your mother's recipe.”

“Mom's recipe was always good…” He tilted his head up slightly, using his fingers to gently push your head away. Made you flinch as he stood up, excusing himself towards the bathroom. Hearing him yell out towards you,

“And please, stop trying to eat my hair! It's not for sale, and I doubt it ever will be! Not until I'm old and wrinkly, then you can eat it. Scottie's Special Spaghetti!" 

Hair spaghetti wasn't the only thing that began to happen. Pills weren't his savior, as were the copious amounts of bandages used. Took an hour for one cut to stop bleeding, and then another started. Drove you to insanity as you stared at another box.

Shuffles across the wooden floor caught your attention. Forgetting the box to opt to peek out the door. Did Leon really not take a doctor's call to rest? Doctor's word was best, and he was too dense to not listen.

There he was, shuffling towards the bathroom where you were. Resting your hand on the door frame, you watched the suffering begin. Annoyed mutters as he finally makes it to the door, giving a smile. Hand on the wall to balance himself.

“You have a stick up your ass walking like that." 

Leon huffed, forehead wrinkling at your blunt statement. Spare him a little mercy, he can't sit down. couldn't sit down ever since Spain. He had to help one way or another, didn't sit with him right—Wouldn’t sit with him. “What do you want me to do? I thought we were supposed to help each other." He argued, his grip on the wall faltering. It'd be like Humpty Dumpty. The eggshell wouldn't crack, his back would. Well, probably a lot more than his back, technically.

"Well, Leon, I know you aren't going to sit your bum down and rest. I'm very tempted to force meds down your throat so you take care of yourself.” Your eyebrows were furrowed, pointing towards the living room. Did you need to be here? Explaining to the poor bastard to just relax? If Chris could come home more often than Leon, he was doing something wrong.

What did you say?

It caught Leon's attention, his hand twitching as he leaned up against the wall. There goes his pinky and there goes his thumb. Leaning down despite the rising pain inside my back. Exploding like pop rocks. A warzone at his lower back.

“Force meds down my throat?" The word rolled off his tongue. Followed by frustration, and that you even had the gall to say that. A bad taste settled in as words died in his throat. Being held back by his rationality. No one wanted the pretty guy to be an ass. He doesn't want to be, but what people say the least… exotic. No, exotic was a nice term to him. Peculiar, very-fuckin'-peculiar.

“Fine… I'll rest. If I hear a damsel or damoiseau in distress, busting my sticked-up ass for them.”

His white flag was accepted as he gave a kiss to your forehead. Dry crusty lips that needed that lip balm he loved. First, it was collecting guns. Then a record from the 1950s exploded into what was the wall of wonder. Wondering what deranged person decided to put records on the wall. Wish he didn't try to keep up with the times. Seeing Pinterest girls with records on their walls. Restaurants in New Orleans—a city of jazz and comfort food—follow the same deal. Now it's lip balm, lips soft and sweet. Something he adored by giving kisses. Sweet strawberry, benevolent blueberry, wonderful watermelon. Seriously, he needed to stop naming lip balms… His lips were already sweet enough without them.

With the parting of lips to a forehead, he bid adieu. Pushing himself back into the living room with the TV a bit too loud for your liking. He's already losing some his hearing, poor guy. Made you smile at him being logical, returning to check on things in the bathroom. 

Why were you buying yourself time till dinner? It was a good time to ponder what'd you make. What was near itGive? Was he near his date? What, why'd that come into your head?

To be frank, it was only a day since Leon came home. One day since he got to rest. How long could he keep this up? Were you a good lover for doubting him? Doubting someone you trust felt wrong. It was wrong, wasn't it? Watching a man come home more broken than before. The cracking of the perfect man in some ways. Leon always screamed the guy with the suburban house and wonderful wife.

Cracks weren't good for what he was. Every day, he seemed to grow another falling apart. Leon couldn't have known. He didn't genuinely know anything aside from killing. Didn't know what normal life in some ways felt like. Was his nine-to-five killing? It was like the records he collected. They're dated, like him. Spinning again with a needle to them. Instead, there was a bullet threatening to put a hole through his head.

“Why do I wonder about this theory…” Leon muttered into the air. Fading into the sounds of the TV. Letting out a heavy sigh as he let himself stare into the TV. Drowning out his thoughts.

He just couldn't, though.

Why would you shove drugs into his throat? Was he such an old man to you? 'Here you go, gramps, your medicine.’ Taken daily and gulped down with water.

The very thought of that sent him spiraling. Why was he always babied? He's not an idiot just because he has a perfect face. What was the count of proving people with his skill? Four? Three? Fuck, he lost count. His own lover? Made him pissed off at himself if he couldn't at least prove to you he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. In his mentation, he slammed his fist on the table. Thoughts like these made him resent his parents for good genetics; he didn't want good genetics, he wanted to be treated decently.

The sound echoed through the apartment, causing you to jump. Almost dropping whatever was in your hand. Shoving it onto the sink as you feared the worst.

What if he fell?

“...Leon?" Your voice was soft, as if scared. Looked around the corner to just see a closed fist on the wood. Observing it raise to reveal a crack in the wood.

"LEON!?”

His neck snapped at the sound of your voice. Watching the frenzied grabbing of a coffee table. Looking at it like it was a baby. People and their grandparents' furniture… Ironic, giving his alcoholism still. The baby he couldn't give up.

“W-why did you do that!?" 

A sharp slap against Leon's cheek from you sent him overboard. On instinct twisting your arm. Pain sprouting through it, Indian burns hurt. Hated when kids at school did it too. All for laughs when someone's in pain.

You yanked your arm out of his grasp. Rubbing the irritated skin as you spat incensed words.

“You know how important that table is to me! How am I supposed to show my parents it's cracked? Are you dumb!? Did being shot in the back make you stupid? Or did it miss to hit your brain!?”

Words gushed out without thought. Leon is staring at you like a hurt puppy. You wanted his head blown off? Why would you say that over a table?

“You wanted me to die?" He asked calmly, gripping the couch arm as he sat up. Swinging his legs over the side. “Or did it miss to hit your brain?" 

“N-no!? I know I said it but, of course not! I-I just… I don't know!?”

Hands were thrown as you went into a frenzy. Tears wanted to fall out of your eyes as you freaked out over a table. He didn't know the importance of a table because he didn't have his parents.

Those words you said… What the fuck?

“Look, I may not be the most amazing person ever, but wanting me to be shot in the head is where the line is, ok? Why don't you cool off? There's the gas station, and the—”

"Why don't you fucking cool off the gun!? When are you going to stop your little job!?”

You were switching tactics. Want to draw him out so you feel better. Learning that during training wasn't fun, only in his early twenties. “You know what? If you want to play this game, I'll play it too.” He sighed, rubbing his face. How many times has he now? Did it at work with training rookies, with Hunnigan, friends when he rarely went out, and you, too.

“You're wishing I was dead over a table, what's the logic? Look, I know it's important but dead? Dead? I thought you were better than wanting someone dead! Besides, it's only a crack, not a smashed leg." His thumb rubbed over the crack from earlier. A gentle apology to an inanimate object.

Logic against emotions never mixed well. Always end up with one storming out—that one is you. First, it was Leon who waved his white flag a year ago, now it was your turn. Hands raised as you responded to his reason,

“Fine, fine, I'll admit maybe it sometimes. That still doesn't help the fact you cracked the table. The fact we went and got it from my parent's place?” Your hands moved on their own, motioning between the two of you to change your point. You two, a duo, couple, buddies, lovers, WE.

“Who slams their hand on a table in the first place? How is your hand even that strong to do that? Are you doing drugs?”

Drugs? Drugs? Accusatory. Did your eyes fail you? He knew you barely left the house nowadays. He recently found a study on his phone that said eyeballs needed sunlight to grow, and you lacked it. Lacked the past sunshine he knew, bright and sweet. Why'd all relationships end like this? Turning red from anger, exploding like dwarf stars as a relationship's lifetime. Exploding…

You excused yourself, going into the kitchen to prepare dinner anyway. Waving your hands as you excused. Fussy little thing you were. Leon watched you, face full of concern over your emotions and what was said earlier. He knew you didn't mean it, but if you said it, meant you thought it. If you thought it, it meant you doubted. If you doubted then he… He didn't know.

Something felt off during dinner, it could've been Leon going suddenly quiet or the thoughts in your head. The scrapes of metal against porcelain filling thick silence. Thick like mustard gas that choked Leon of his voice and made his tears fall.

“I'll take care of cleaning up, you go get ready for bed. You'll probably shower anyway." You muttered, taking your leave from the table. Collecting plates as you went, lingering on Leon as he paused. Frozen like those Greek statues—perfect even in mental agony.

Still, he didn't want to speak, words not wanting to come out. He didn't need his voice to convey his pain from earlier, the regret he had. Your answer was received through his subconscious responses and body language.

Stealing his plate away from him to bring it back to its home. You started on the obvious: cleaning up after eating. Using the same sponge you had for months alongside dish soap. Didn't understand the ads about how certain dish soaps were unique—it’s just soap.

Soap that cleaned, soap that was washed away. Just like your thoughts circling down that very drain. The fight from hours ago was still reasonably in your mind. Fuzzy as you dried your, hands off. Moving to retreat to your safe space of sorts.

Bedrooms did wonders in many ways. Offered comfort, love, passion, and the chance of reconciliation. You chose right with the sheets, cottony fabric. Was it basic? Perhaps. But it felt right for an ‘American’ home.

Tearing casual wear off for something more flowy. Nobody wanted to be hot when they slept—except the maniac Leon was. Your clothes drop to the floor, leaving you bare to the choices in their closet. Rummaging through it as the man of the day finally made it to the bedroom. Slipping on something comfortable for the night.

Now it was his turn to change his clothes, well, more like stripping from them. 

Courteousness could've helped to mend what seemed like the bridge between the two.

“Do you need help?" A question you asked, reaching out towards the male to tug at his shirt. The silent hand between each other's minds. The sorry neither of you wanted to say but had to learn.

Leon thought for a moment, chuckling as he looked up at you, “Sure, if you wouldn't mind?” His smile was soft yet confused, wondering if this was your way of apologizing. Did you think it was an apology? He could've guessed to accept it.

With a drop of a head, you couldn't help but let a smile show through. Huffing at his confused answer. Letting your fingers already help with the stubborn fabric. Pulling it over his head to reveal a canvas full of dark purples and reds. Pretty together and alone, but this canvas was… Unique. Showing the pain one has endured will bring pride. With the main fellow of the show being the fresh gunshot wound on his side.

“Are you staring at my muscles or the bruises?" Leon asked, quirking an eyebrow. Moving to sit on his side of the bed. Working on his pants to reveal Calvin Klein boxers—dark like his soul. (That's what he always said, you ball of depressing sunshine.)

“The bruises that cover the muscles?" You queryed, moving to sit beside him. Hands clutching the edges of the bed as you glanced over at him. Observing his actions as he went on with his night.

“How long are they keeping you from work?" It was a good question to ask. He never said, Leon never wanted to speak about work in his home. It felt forbidden to him like he wasn't keeping you safe from a part of him.

“A week," he simply responded, finally shrugging his pants off. Moved his elbows on his knees as he met your gaze. “Wish it was less sometimes." 

“Why less? Wouldn't you want more? It's a break, Leon. Do you not like coming home?"

If he had to mentally delve into his memories, he would've fallen off that building long ago. Floors high with a bioweapon charging for him. He couldn't leave Chris with Rebecca, couldn't leave you alone with guilt and regret. Pretty tears like yours made him feel regret.

Breaks in a sense were bad. He knew the fact he wouldn't escape the government or their work. The work pulled him away from his tear-stained pillow and favorite pair of sweats. Gave him holes in the body and sweet blots of color on his skin. Fuck him and his brain, wanting to save everyone.

“Complicated, real complicated.”

Well, complicated isn't exactly the most honest answer. It just was used as a general term with him. A cover-up.

"If it's about earlier… I was stupid, ok? Who wouldn't be? It's just a table, I know. Just that table means a lot to my family, despite how ridiculous that sounds.” Gesticulating as you talked, Leon couldn't help but notice the clear unease to admit you were wrong—oddly finding it adorable. Resting his chin in his palm as you spoke your truth.

“There's a lot I want to say to you, Leon. Mostly just… Why all this? This job, it's killing you, literally. Your back is worse than a grandma's, you're becoming a dopehead at this point, too. I get antidepressants, but then all these pain medications and others amongst them. I'm not trying to be the person who says drugs don't help problems, but too many hurts you. I'm happy that you're seemingly happy with them, I am.”

Words were bubbling up as you poured emotions out. A waterfall that never ceased and honestly could've made you gag. Those clowns that pull fabrics from their mouths, how? Each fabric you pulled made you want to cry from the emotions. The guilt, pain, resentment, love, all in each pull.

Each fabric you pulled from your mouth to Leon felt like a prodding. Slowly turning into a stab that leaked oil. Catching aflame with certain words and making him recall painful memories. He wasn't a dopehead, he didn't want to be. No one wanted to stare at the six bottles of pills he tried to take daily.

"I want you to take care of yourself, to just take a fucking break.”

Breaks… How many vacation days did he have? Time paid off? Er, he'd have to check. Tapping his finger on his cheek as he tried to recall.

“Could try, but it'll cost you a little somethin'." 

Leon leaned close, kissing your temple before resting his head on yours. Chuckling to himself as his hands reacted on their own. Interlacing with yours as he smiled to himself.

“Debt paid, guess I will take a break." This statement made you breathe a mental sigh of relief, even after countless talks of his well-being. “I do actually hear you, though.”

His voice took a serious turn, as thoughtful-sounding as he could be. Reflection on what he could improve on, which was being vocal.

“Soon, I promise. I think I may be getting towards the end of work. Losing the Kennedy spark and all I have is a title.” Leon recalled Helena, or Patrick. The title of being the savior of Ashley Graham. The other being one of the first and best of the D.S.O. "Got a tummy to show for protecting a shitty country as well.” He laughed at his own self-deprecation—the walking circus he was. “Had that talk with Chris during last year, actually. When you were at the bar with him, after you left?”

He glanced over at you with fond eyes, “I talked with him during that. Helped me a lot, you did too." The man paused, stiffly rubbing his neck. "Chris also… Said hi." 

Classic Chris, felt like a family friend now. Alongside Leon's unique bunch of friends that he called colleagues, but you knew better. Every aging man needed their little circle of buddies. Made you giggle at Leon's annoyed expression. 

“Chris and his hellos… Loves popping his head in when you're home. Do you two even still talk?”

"Rarely,” Leon replied. "He likes to go out for drinks sometimes, quite nice. Sometimes he's one the only guy who gets me.” He gave a forced smile. Earning a gentle punch in the arm. One he brushed off with a push.

“At least you have fun with him, he's a clown once you get past the sternness."

This felt odd. Welcoming. Just a simple conversation with your lover. Backs falling against the bed and limbs tangling themselves as you spoke about life. Two little squids comforted in the presence of their mate. Losing yourselves in a everyday conversation. Pretending that earlier had never happened.

As the two became comfortable, so did your words. Reaching out to stroke his cheek. Over the faint line on it from years ago he said. Doubt he'd ever tell you it was from a old mentor. Thumb slowly moving down to his lips, a kiss being put on the pad.

“I'm still sorry for earlier, ok?" You whispered. Guilt had set in earlier at your emotional outburst. Telling him to die but you meant it in a caring way. Putting a hurt animal to rest with a bullet. If it was him, you'd give him that mercy. Let him finally rest as blood oozed from his corpse.

“You’re getting too old for this job. It's too physically straining on you. Drugs won't save you everytime and the hospital isn't either. How many names and faces do you know from there, huh?”

"Probably around fifteen, maybe twenty. Same doctor but different nurses.”

"See?” Your argument was valid in your mind. If he could remember faces, he'd visited it too much. It hurt you as much as it hurt him to dislocate a shoulder or get a bullet in the back.

"I love you Leon Kennedy, I really do.” A whisper you meant, feeling solemn. Leaning over to capture his lips against yours. Fondness and desire in one simple action. Feeling his hand curling up on the back of your scalp. Leon's eyes fluttering shut as he allowed it.

Your lips left his, breathless as you stared down at him. Watching him smile and the slight crinkle on the corner of his eyes.

“Love you more.”

"More, huh?” You jested, pressing your noses together with a giggle. Gently kissing him again as your hips straddled him. Keeping him pinned at the waist down. Hands moving to the hem of his shirt to pull it off.

“Can I…?”

“Can you…” Leon trailed off, looking at you expectantly. Before letting himself take off his shirt. Revealing little wisps of chest hair and a gunshot wound on his shoulder that's faded from time. Now just a light patch of skin with a ring in the center. It's younger cousin on his side, bright red and certainly angry.

With such gentle touches, Leon smiled—such care and caution. Made him aroused at the love. Made the back of his mind also angry he was getting aroused at something so simple. Trying to make him say something or pry you off with the excuse of pain, but no.

Your eyes wandered the pretty little canvas of bruises and scars his chest was. Even with the new gunshot wound. At least it was beginning to heal. You'd be gagging if you saw it before he left the hospital. Bleeding and the inside of human muscle and flesh.

“I don't know what to say right now," you mumbled, giggling at his stare at the awkward silence pervading the room.

The awkward silence felt right, comforting as you stare at each other. Payback for whenever Leon watched you.

“A little friend does." He whispered, watching your face burn at what he meant from friend. His hands grasped your hips, pulling your pelvis in to rub against his bulge. Situating it perfectly to where he could grind against your pussy. Seeing him so entranced watching his bulge rub against your underwear. Breath caught in his throat as he loved it. 

“Gentle, Leon,” you remind, shifting your leg to not brush against his wound. A little uncomfortable with the way your muscles felt but if it made him not hiss in pain, worth it. “You don't like thinking about these things, huh?"

“You don't get to think about many things in my line of work. I only think about getting ready to be back in your arms—where I belong."

Sweetheart he was with those words, made you all giddy and embarrassed. Waving your hand like those shit Lifetime movies towards the Jock with a pea-sized brain. All this grinding and loving talk made you mush. Should’ve been a housewife at this point if you fell for such suave.

“You jest too much,” you scoff, rolling your shoulders back as you prepared for a smooth ride. Grinding sexes against each other while seducing the other with half-lidded yearning eyes. Running your hands up his chest to his throat. Wrapping your hands around the muscle to give a gentle squeeze, earning a soft moan.

“Babygirl, you know what a little squeeze does to a guy like me.” Leon purred, his words becoming husky. Rubbing his hands up and down your thighs and hips. Resting his head back on his pillow. “Pull those panties aside, gotta see my babygirl’s little pussy.”

Giggles erupted from your lips as you shuffled back a little. Instead of embarrassment, arousal was coursing through you. Simple acts could set someone aflame so fast. Dirty talk was one of them if paired with the right voice and man.

Instead of pulling it aside, you pulled them off. Albeit a bit awkwardly due to your pose, but still could be done. Dangling it in front of his face for the alluring factor before throwing them at the wall.

With your underwear out of the way, Leon got a good show of your cunt. Looking at the slick that made him groan involuntarily. Imagining the scene that would play out alongside you. Being lost in his world made his body react for him, making him grind into the warmth you brought. Rocking you back and forth against him.

“There she is! Good girl, baby, just like that.” He rasped, glancing up at you. Noticing you were entranced as well, the way he handled himself.

Leon chuckled, reaching out with his free hand to grab your chin. Snapping you out of the trance as you meet his gaze. So mesmerized by a simple movement. “Eyes on me, Miele. You're doing so good for me.”

His hand left your chin to return back to it's resting place; your hip. Guiding you to grind against his bulge.

“You're unfair if I have to be bare and you get to keep your boxers on." You huffed, impatiently yanking his boxers down. Watching it hit his abdomen with a small slap against his skin. Leaking precum onto the skin, made you let a appreciative hum. “Better, I don't wanna be lonely." You chuckled, mimicking an earlier Kennedy wink.

Why were you two chuckling or laughing so much? You felt like the two of you were having your virginities taken. The awkward sex, shuffling of sheets, and being embarrassed. To be honest, it had been a while considering Leon left home so often. Leaving you without any genuine love-making.

“How about you lie on me? It'll be easier, promise.” Leon motioned with his hands towards his chest. Free and open like the two of you. Sweet smile on his face that revealed those dimples you loved.

Taking the offer, you moved to lay on him. Ear pressed to his chest as was his cock against your opening. Your arms wrapped around his chest as you sunk down. Letting out a soft moan at the insertion.

He rubbed your back, comforting you as you grew accustomed to him again. Murmuring soft words of praise,

“Good girl, just like that.”

His fingers went up and down your back. Languidly thrusting his cock up into you. “Missed this, missed you," he moans, bucking his hips up into you on accident. Squeezing him like a vice as his cock head pressed up into that sweet spot. “Missed that face you make when taking my fat cock." 

“Missed you too," your hands go to stroke his chest. Propping your head up on his chest with your chin. Face in a faux pout as you blink slowly. Letting out a small gasp every few thrusts. “We haven't done this in a while, Leon." 

“Yeah, we really haven't." Leon sighed, letting his head rest back against his pillow. “Look, I'm still sorry for not being here for you." 

He looked back at you, eyes somber as he added more, “It's hard. I know you want to know but I can't tell you. I'm afraid of what'll happen if I tell you. The government is terrifying powerful. I don't want you to die because of me."

It was obvious the government was terrifying, seeing how it reacted to certain things. Police brutality, shitty presidents, probably running some bioweapon deal underneath it. Power hungry just like everyone else. Those who denied being power-hungry were always the ones who were most. They just knew when to not say they were—they were smart.

“I could see that, Leon. I know what you do, ok? Bioweapons? Fight them? You and the government aren't exactly ‘low-key’. I'm sure a lot of the public knows.” You answered, feeling odd while talking about the government with Leon during sex. Such a turn-on.

Of course you'd know, even if he didn't want to go into details—mostly because it invalidates his contract and have himself and you be shot; he knew you weren't dumb. Worst part it was during something so vulnerable.

"Yeah, that's the bad part." He muttered, letting his hands grab your cheek. Giving it a small pinch as he gave a smile. “You look so pretty when you're taking my dick.”

“Turn off?" In truth, it only did a little. Knowing it would've gotten you a harsh thrust into your core. “I love you, but geez… You are something else with certain words.”

"Ah, losing my charm now, hm?” Leon thought to himself, pursing his lips as his eyes seemingly ran after some cleverly thought up phrase that made girls wet. "Ah, I think I got one.”

He drew closer, tipping his head forward so your noses touched. Knowing the smile on his face as he purred out sultry words, “Been thinking about this all day, especially when you made dinner. Wanted to take you over the dishwasher and fuck that tight little pussy into being mine.” His hands grabbed at your hips, moving you up and down on his cock faster. Fucking you with a purpose. The feeling made your eyes flutter, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

“Leon…” You moaned out, hearing the slap of skin behind you. "Y-you're ‘pposed to be gentle!"

A loud whine came from your throat, followed by a smack to your ass. Your shoulders jumping at the sudden harsh smack. Fingers digging into Leon's chest as he fucked you himself.

“Mmmm, I know, baby," he groaned, “But this pussy’s too perfect for me to not fuck.”

Leon laughed, eyes crinkled. All the while his dick kept curling up your walls to hit you again and again in that sweet, gooey spot. Making you leak down his cock to his balls.

Noticing his effect, he adjusted his hand to where he could rub lazy circles into your clit. Making your thigh quiver at too much stimulation. Hips tried to avoid his stubborn hand as he grew relentless in the stimulation.

You leaned forward to kiss him, before pushing his bangs back. Shutting yourself up so you wouldn't get a noise complaint from your next-door neighbors. They didn't need to hear more of Leon fucking you right. Felt amazing to finally be able to feel him again. His hands on your hips, dick curling up inside of you, lips against yours. Made a girl almost cry at the luck.

“Stop being so tight, gonna choke my dick out of oxygen and blood." Leon chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He ran his hands up and down your back, moving to your neck. Pressing your foreheads together so he could gaze at you.

“I love you…” Leon murmured, pulling you back in for another kiss you eagerly accepted. Hands curled up into his hair and pulled it. Pulling away from the kiss to pull his head back. Delivering kisses from his jaw to his throat. Nipping at the skin that made him moan. Making him roll his hips up into you quicker. How'd that angel a year ago become such a succubus in his arms?

"Love you too.” You responded, burying your head in his neck as you began to moan. Biting down on the skin that'll leave a bruise. 

With such love came passion, each thrust carrying it. Each touch of Leon's fingers on your skin lighting it afire. The nails scratched the vulnerable flesh as he started huffing. Reaching its peak, as does every man that ages.

“I got you, don't worry." His hands tightened around you. Pulling you tight against his chest as he rushed to climax. Balls slapping against your pussy and hearing the vibrations of his voice in his throat. Rumbling with each thrust. Almost seemed pathetic with how he was acting.

“That's it baby, you're doing so good f'me. Taking me so well. Just let go, squeeze my cock. Wanna feel you gush around me.”

Oh, sweet fuck those words sent you over the edge. Drenching his cock with more slick. Whining at the overstimulation with his quick thrusts. Crying as he pulls you from his neck to give you a sloppy kiss. Muffling his last groan he released himself inside of you. Hips slowly came to a halt as he panted.

“That’s my girl" Leon whispered, giving one last sweet kiss before resting his head back against his pillow. Letting his arms fall from your body to rest beside him.

Taking it as a sign to get off of him, you scooted off. Almost pulling him out of you before he stopped you with his hand being lazily raised.

“Wanna stay in my pussy a little bit longer. Too lazy to pull out.”

You groaned, brows furrowed but relenting as you pulled him into his side into a spooning position. Moving to where your back pressed against his. Arm wrapped around your waist and stubble rubbing against your neck. Leon already rubbing himself into the crook of your neck. Resting his forehead in the crook with an appreciative hum.

“Such a good girl you were." Leon praised, kissing your shoulder. Giving both your shoulder and neck small ‘good job’ kisses. “Kinda hurting, though…” He mumbled, groaning as he pushed his weight into your back.

“I did say while getting my brains fucked out you're supposed to be gentle. La mia brava ragazza.” Your hands squeezed his forearms. Sighing as you came down from your high. Tired from the dick in you and dreading having to wake up with dried cum on your thighs.

“I’ll get out in a few minutes, need to shower anyway.” Leon chuckled warmly, finally catching his breath. His hands come to hold your chest, giving a small squeeze. Not sexual in any way, just something comforting he did.

“Count me in…”

“When I wanted to come shower with you, I didn’t say eat me the hell out, Leon.” You hissed, swatting him with a towel as you stumbled out of the shower. Second orgasm within the hour and you're shaking like a little lamb. Already watching Leon drying his hair off with a shake and towel. Glancing over at you with a cheeky smile. You paused, before shrugging, ok, maybe it was good. Too good with his stubble rubbing up against you. Sucking on your clit like a lollipop.

“You expect a man like me not to take this opportunity?” He asked incredulously, a hand on his chest as he raised an eyebrow towards you. Almost as if offended you didn’t know who he was despite being his lover. “You hurt me, amore mio.”

As expected, he couldn’t help but jest at you. Watching you shake your head and pinch the brow of your nose. Offering a temple kiss in kind of his attempt to make you smile. “I’ll stop for tonight, don’t worry.”

“You should.” To keep yourself from losing another brain cell at your smitten lover, you dried off. Leaving him to his own devices while you dried your hair and body.

Leon smiled, before noticing the pill bottle on the bathroom sink. Taking it as his medication for the week is another opportunity for conversation. “So, this is what they gave me?”

He held the bottle in his hands, giving it a small shake with an estimate of how many pills were in it. Before moving to read the label and daily amount. Reading the daily amount, he hummed, before noticing the sticky note.

“You’re going to bingo without me?” It shattered his heart as he said it out loud, glancing over at you. Watching your eyes widen at the word ‘bingo’. Bingo? What’d he know about bingo? He only knew where everyone went for bingo.

“Bingo? What about bingo?” You asked, confused as you looked up to see the pill bottle in his hand. 

“Oh…”

Someone’s getting an angry phone call later.

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — @rigorwhoring, @xoxostarlet, @leqonsluv3r

If you wanna be apart of my taglist just send a DM or ask! I don't mind! Tomorrow I'll be dropping two bots! Then you will see me a week or so later! Love you guys! <3

[jordyn14]

Hi can you please write a Joe x reader where they’re getting ready for a wedding (or some other formal event) But Joe is playing catch with their son and reader keeps telling them to come inside and get ready and Joe keeps saying 5 more minutes

Pairing: Joe Burrow x fem first person

Words: 2739

Notes: I have been swamped with finals this week and probably most of next week as well, but I’m still trying to find the time to write. I hope you enjoy!! <3

Taglist: @wickedfun9

“I’m almost done doing my hair, can you put Benji’s shoes on?” I called out to Joe who was just in the room building legos with our 5 year old son a little bit ago. As soon as I finished curling the last strand of hair, I flipped all of my hair to the front and looked at myself in the mirror for the millionth time and to my pregnant belly which was showing through my dress. About a week ago I started to show and I couldn’t wait to have another kid, especially if he or she was anything like Benji.

Today is the day one of my good friends get’s married to her high school sweetheart, and I am so excited. When we met at college my first year, I always talked about how I wanted a love just like hers. For one, their relationship was so stable. There was never a time when they wouldn’t trust each other or went behind each other’s backs because their relationship was built around honestly and loyalty. I never thought I would have that kind of relationship until I met Joe. People always talk about love at first sight, and I didn’t believe them until I experienced it with Joe.

After a few seconds of not hearing any response from Joe or Benji and not hearing the clattering of legos as they tried to make something new, I peaked my head out and saw the empty bedroom. I raised my eyebrow in confusion since Joe said they were all done and didn’t need to do anything else to get ready except put shoes on. Thinking that maybe they were one step ahead of me, I headed out of the room and downstairs where I searched and searched and found no sign of either of them.

All of a sudden, I could hear them playing outside. “That was a perfect throw dad!” Benji yelled from outside. I couldn’t help but smile as soon as I heard him and headed for the back door. I should’ve known that they were outside. As soon as Joe found out we were having a little boy, he bought all kinds of sporting equipment for kids so his son could try out every sport with him to decide what he liked best. Joe bought baseballs, basketballs, soccer balls, golf clubs, volleyballs, tennis rackets, and of course footballs. Every day leading up to the day our son could actually really use all of the equipment, Joe talked nonstop about how much he wanted him to grow up.

As soon as I turned the corner and looked out of the huge glass sliding door, I saw Joe and Benji throwing a foam football around the yard. The first thing that caught my eye was my perfect husband in a suit. Yes, a suit. Even though I knew the jacket and tie would come off towards the end of the night, I was so excited when he told me he was wearing one. Joe looks great in almost everything he wears, and he wears some pretty questionable things, but a suit always looks absolutely amazing. I could barely take my eyes off of him and the way his fluffy hair hung on forehead. Oh and that smile. It never left his face when he was with the people he loved.

After practically drooling over my husband for a few seconds while I walked to the door, I looked down at little Benji who used all of his might to throw that foam football all the way up at Joe who looks huge compared to Benji. It was adorable seeing him use every ounce of strength to muscle it up to him. Benji is a lot like Joe in the way that they are both extremely competitive. In baseball, Benji wants to field every grounder and hit home runs every single time. When he doesn’t, he cries. It’s heartbreaking to see him so worked up over something as simple as him not getting a hit or not being the best on the team yet even though he’s the youngest, but then I remember that he’s a lot like Joe in pretty much every fiber of his being. Benji is sensitive as well as competitive, and Joe’s been helping him so much with his little emotions.

When Joe caught the ball which was a perfect throw to his chest, he had the biggest and encouraging smile on his face and leaned his arm back to throw it back gently. Although I couldn’t hear Joe because he wasn’t yelling like Benji was, I could see him say, ‘that was great, Benji. This time, make sure to step with your left foot like I taught you.’ Benji jumped a little bit and yelled with a laugh, “oh yeah, I forgot!” Joe just chuckled and threw the football back to Benji who caught it.

When I got closer and Joe saw something walking towards him, he looked over at me and as soon as he saw me, his face lit up and he gave me that adorable and toothy smile that I love so much. The way he let out a relieved breath to see his wife coming over to him, the way clenched and unclenched his hands nervously, and the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of me made butterflies fly around in my stomach. Even though we’ve been together for years, it still feels like a little teenage romance. It always feels young and alive. I also couldn’t help but notice how his cheeks flushed red when he looked me up and down repeatedly, keeping his eyes on not only my pregnant belly but my face extra long.

As soon as Benji heard the door start to open, he looked at the door super quick and instead of throwing it to Joe like he was about to, smiled up at me, showing me that big gap in his teeth where he lost his first ever tooth just a few days ago. Just to make sure Benji didn’t wake up that night when the ‘tooth fairy’ came, Joe dressed up as a little fairy and went into his room to put the money under his pillow, although I said I could do it since I would be a more convincing fairy. Luckily Benji didn’t wake up to see just how different the tooth fairy looked in person.

“Did you see me throw the ball? I’m getting better!” Benji said and looked back to his dad and threw the ball. This time, he stepped with his left food and threw it perfectly to Joe. “You’re getting so much better at throwing. Pretty soon, you’ll be just like your daddy on the field.” I said with a smile. Watching them together brought me so much Joy, especially watching Joe be a dad, which he’s always wanted. “Really?” Benji said with a shocked look on his face. Joe chuckled at benji’s reaction. “If you keep practicing, I can guarantee you that you’ll be the best football player around. But right now, we need to go or we’ll be late.” I said, trying to get them to come inside and finish getting ready, since Benji now had dirt on his hands and they both had dirt on their shoes.

Right when I said this, Benji’s bottom lip stuck out slightly but was about to walk over to me when Joe said, “aw, 5 more minutes?” I glared up at Joe jokingly. Of course he decided to do this now when we had to go somewhere. We both held eye contact as he gave me those adorable puppy dog eyes, and then I looked to Benji who looked excited. “Yeah, 5 more minutes! Please mommy?” He asked me. Benji looked over at me and then to Joe who was still giving me those pitiful eyes. The next thing I knew, Benji was copying Joe and was now giving me puppy dog eyes as well. After a few seconds, I caved. “You guys are impossible. 5 more minutes if you promise to put on your outdoor shoes so I can clean up your good ones.” I said. “Okay!” Benji said and ran over to me.

Like his life depended on it, he took off his shoes and ran inside of the house, not wanting to waste any of those 5 minutes I gave him. “Grab your dad’s shoes too!” I called out to Benji who disappeared. While Joe headed over to me, I heard something hit the floor extremely hard and was about to run in to see if Benji fell when he yelled, “I’m okay!” Joe and I both let out a laugh as I turned to him as he was taking off his shoes. After picking up Benji’s, I grabbed Joe’s shoes from him. Joe then leaned down and placed a kiss on my lips.

“Thank you, we’re just having so much fun.” Joe said, wrapping an arm around me to pull me closer to him. “I know. I love watching you guys have fun. And you know what, you are a fucking dilf. Guaranteed, I will have the most handsome and sexy man at the wedding tonight.” I laughed. Joe reached down and squeezed my butt. I let out a little yelp, not expecting it, and slapped his arm while laughing. “Oh yeah? Well you’re going to be the most gorgeous and sexiest woman at the wedding tonight.” Joe said with that smirk on his face.

Just as Joe and I closed the distance between us and were about to kiss, Benji ran between the both of us and back outside so he could continue playing with Joe. Joe and I just looked at each other, wishing we had more time alone. “C’mon, we only have 5 more minutes!” Benji giggled and threw the ball up to himself so he could play catch with himself. “Okay, okay, I’m comin’.” Joe said and placed a kiss on my lips. Before he went over to Benji, he leaned in close to my ear until I could feel his breath on my neck. Shivers ran down my spine and I could feel my cheeks heating up. “We can continue this after he goes to bed tonight.” Joe whispered in my ear.

I sucked in a small breath and smiled like crazy as he backed up from me with that smirk on his face and went to play with Benji. I looked away from Joe and took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. The things this man did to me. He really didn’t even need to do anything special to turn me on or make me feel like the luckiest girl in the entire world. He did that with just one look. With one look he could make me weak at the knees and feel so confident and beautiful.

Once I calmed down, I walked inside and washed both of their shoes until they looked brand new. The whole time I was washing them, I looked outside to Benji and Joe who were giggling, laughing, running around, and having an amazing time. I couldn’t stop smiling as the realization of just how perfect our amazing life was. After 10 minutes, I headed back outside.

As soon as I opened up the door, Benji started walking over to me after tossing the ball to Joe. This time he wasn’t as bummed. “Oh come on, 5 more minutes?” Joe begged, throwing the ball from hand to hand and spinning it on his palm like he always does during football games and practices. Once again, Benji just looked at his dad with a shocked expression on his face at the fact that he asked for another 5 minutes.

I bit my lower lip and tried my best to hide my smile and instead look mad at Joe, but I couldn’t. “Please. We’ll be well behaved the whole time and I won’t ask to leave early.” Joe begged. I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him. “Whether or not I let you have 5 more minutes, you’ll still ask to leave early.” I said with a laugh, knowing Joe always asks to leave early at almost every single event we go to. Hell, he even asked to leave our wedding early so we could have some alone time together and not be surrounded by friends and family.

“I’ll eat all of my veggies. I promise!” Benji added in, trying to get me to give them 5 more minutes. Looking down at how adorable Benji looked, I caved again and was about to walk back inside. “Come and play with us. If you do, I won’t ask for any more time.” Joe said. “Yeah, come play with us! Come play with us!” Benji jumped up and down and ran over to me. I laughed as Benji grabbed onto my hand and tried his best to drag me with him. He let out a few grunts so I walked with him. “Okay, but only if you promise to eat up all of those green veggies and if you, Mr Burrow, act half as well behaved as Benji.” I said. “Yay! Ok, mom, be Ted, and I’ll be Ja’marr. Dad, you already know who you are.” Benji said as Joe tossed me the football he was holding.

Joe and I just looked at each other and laughed at what Benji said about Joe already knowing that he was in fact Joe Burrow in this game. Doing what Benji said, I walked over to Joe who gave me a wink, loving that I got to be his center. I rolled my eyes at him and punched his stomach jokingly. Joe grunted a little bit at the contact, not expecting it, and then smirked down at me. “Y’know, this games going to be more fun with you as my center.” Joe said while I turned around so my back was facing him. I laughed and bent down a little bit.

Then, I felt Joes hands on my butt and turned around to look at Joe. I put a hand over my mouth to try and stop myself from laughing at how this looked. “Well this looks familiar.” I said and started laughing. Just as Joe was about to make a comment about what I said, Benji asked, “what does that mean? Ted’s his center.” Both of our eyes widened a little bit and I looked back over to Benji who looked confused. “We sometimes play this game when you’re at school buddy.” Joe said, coming up with something quickly. I looked back at Joe with a shocked expression and sighed. Even if Benji had no idea what we were talking about, it was still weird hearing him say that to our son.

“Oh, that makes sense I guess. Alright, snap the ball!” Benji said excitedly and got ready to run and catch the pass from Joe. Shaking my head, I bent down a little bit again and once again felt Joe’s hands on my butt, but this time he gave it a little squeeze. Joe clapped his hands and then said, “Set, hut,” before I snapped it to him and he got set up to throw it to Benji. With a smile on his face the entire time, Benji ran to the side and caught the pass from Joe. “Touchdown!” Joe yelled and held up his hands. Just as Benji was about to stop, he slipped a little bit and fell straight towards the concrete patio.

“Ow.” Was all Benji got out as he came in contact with the ground. Both Joe and I started to run to Benji at his reaction, thinking he got hurt and was about to cry, but all he did was stand up and throw the ball at the ground like Joe does when he runs one in. Joe and I laughed before I looked down and noticed the big hole in Benji’s pants from skidding his knee against the concrete. Just as I looked down, Benji looked down at the hole in his pants and his bloody knee and said, “Oopsies.”I let out a little laugh while shaking my head and turned to Joe who was still laughing at Benji’s celebration. “Oh brother,” Was all I said, knowing we were going to be late to the wedding.

[livingformintyoongi]

can I request: Jungkook and YN laying in bed cockwarming while watching a movie and they fall asleep. Jungkook wakes up in the middle of the night and is still inside YN so he wakes her up by sucking her tits and asks her if it's ok to fuck because he is hard

thanksssss💕

5:30 A.M.

a/n: Thank you for the request! It's my first time making smut as such, so I hope it's good enough for your taste ^^. warnings: Cockwarming, Mazophilia, reader is older than Jungkook by two years, kind of dom!reader and sub!Jungkook but very mild, breeding kink, hair pulling. wc: 1.8k

"Don't you find it strange that Captain America and Iron man get along so badly? I mean, they both seek the same end, why fight each other when they should be using that strength against villains?" muttered Jungkook, trying to swallow the vulgar amount of popcorn he threw into his mouth.

"They both have the same goal, but at the same time different values, and those same values are what make their relationship so strained" you nodded, taking a sip of your drink, "You know what thing does strike me as odd?".

"What?" your boyfriend's gaze was still fixed on the TV, too focused on watching Iron man and Captain America fight.

"That you asked to be inside me while we watch Captain America: civil war," you laughed softly, turning to look at your boyfriend "Sounds like too weird of a fetish. Tell me the truth, do you have an Iron man fetish or something?".

Jungkook laughed, kissing your cheek and caressing your abdomen with his fingertips. You felt your insides stir inside you. 

 "Of course not, it's just that I really love being inside you" he murmured, kissing you shortly, "I feel so much closer to you, like we're really one person, you know what I mean?".

You nodded laughing, stroking his jaw, "Sure I do, but it's still weird that you're asking me while we're watching a Marvel movie."

"I'll pick something better next time" he chuckled, snuggling under you. He loved having you in his lap and being able to hug you from behind. "Now let's concentrate on watching Robert Downey Junior fight Chris Evans."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say" you smiled, leaning against his shoulder and watching one of your boyfriend's favorite movies.

You fell asleep shortly after watching the post-credits scene, you had a long day's work, so it was expected that you fell asleep so early. Before going to sleep you asked Jungkook to switch positions and he was quick to agree. He was aware that it was quite uncomfortable for you to sleep sitting up, and since he still didn't want to leave you, you decided to lie down hugging each other, him with his head on your chest and his hands around your waist, you, with one of your hands on his lower back and the other in his hair.

Even though you fell asleep much earlier than Jungkook had planned, he quite enjoyed watching the rest of the movies alone, mostly because it was enough for him that you were lying next to him.

He hadn't planned on disturbing your rest, indeed, he hated to do so because he knew how much the work exhausted you, but there were things he simply couldn't control, like his cock. 

If we're honest, it hadn't been his fault as such, but somehow watching Wade and Vanessa's scenes while he was still inside you awakened something inside him. And on the outside, too. 

As soon as he felt little spasms in his cock, he turned off the TV and settled back against your chest, closing his eyes and trying to think about anything other than fucking you. It worked a little at first, but then he felt the soft scent of your perfume, your breath against his scalp, the softness of your breasts against his cheek. He actually tried to resist.

He took a breath of air, remembering an old conversation the two of you had at the beginning of your relationship. You had talked about whether you were comfortable with certain things in the sexual realm, among them, having something with one of you asleep. You confessed that you didn't mind as long as you weren't fighting and he told you that he trusted you enough to know that you would take good care of him even if he was sleeping. 

You weren't fighting, so he wasn't passing you around, you said yourself that you didn't care. 

That was Jungkook repeated himself as he slipped his hand under your shirt, which was actually his, and started massaging your breasts. At first it was just small squeezes, using his whole hand to cover your breast. He licked his lips, looking at your face. You were still asleep.

The squeezes now shifted to your nipples. He rolled, pulled and pinched them, gradually increasing the force on them. He was surprised to notice that you were still sound asleep in spite of that.

He thought that was good, so this time he lifted your shirt until it was under your chin. He swallowed saliva at the sight of your breasts. He seriously loved them, they were so round, nice and big. He brought his mouth up to the point where both breasts met and began to leave little kisses on the spot. His hands were now busy caressing your hips, and his hips were grinding against yours with almost imperceptible movements. 

You were still asleep.

When he realized that you wouldn't wake up no matter what he did, he began to lick the skin around your nipples. At first it was just small rubs, but they soon turned into sloppy kisses, sucking your nipples hard as his onslaught became stronger than at first.

It was only then that you opened your eyes.

You were still a little groggy from the nap you had taken, so it took you a while to realize what was happening. You came all the way back after Jungkook hit your G-spot a little too hard.

You moaned much louder than usual, opening your eyes wide.

"Jungkook?" you gasped, clinging to his hair as you felt his cock touch your G-spot again. 

"Noona" he whispered, his voice cracking. Now that you were aroused he could afford to lunge harder. "You feel so good, you're so beautiful, so tight."

You weren't understanding the situation very well, but you weren't going to complain either. Jungkook definitely knew how to make a woman feel good.

"I thought I'd have to hold back, I didn't want to wake you up," he murmured, tightening his grip on your hips as his lunges got faster and messier, "I'm glad you woke up."

"Were you holding back?" you chuckled, groaning at the end of the sentence.

Jungkook was big, much bigger than any of your exes were, and even though you'd been together for quite a while now, you couldn't get used to his size and how well he filled you up. That, coupled with how resilient and flexible he was, made him a perfect lover. 

Even knowing that, you were still amazed by the fact that Jungkook held back most of the time just so he wouldn't hurt or tease you. It seemed so cute to you.

"Of course I do," he nodded awkwardly, closing his eyes tightly as he licked his bottom lip. He had to let go of your hips and grab hold of the back of your bed in order to continue. It felt even better now that you were awake. He loved hearing your voice. "You looked so tired, but I was so needy" he grunted as he felt you tighten around him, squeezing the backrest until his knuckles turned white, "I thought maybe, if I did it slowly you wouldn't wake up."

You hugged Jungkook's hips with your legs, while your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close until he was close enough to kiss his lips. 

You tried to make the kiss slow and deep, but Jungkook seemed so desperate. You moaned as you felt him wrap one of his arms around your waist and lift you off the bed until you felt your chest crush against his. It didn't take him long to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You both broke the kiss when you ran out of air. Jungkook wasted no time, and quickly brought his lips down to your breasts, returning his focus to your nipples and how good it felt the way you squeezed each time he sucked on them hard.

You felt close, and it really was hard not to be when Jungkook was fucking and eating your breasts like it was the last time. You pulled his hair tightly, pulling his neck closer to your mouth, nibbling and sucking every space on his skin that looked too empty.

You smiled as you heard your name leave his lips between gasps.

"Noona" he whispered, letting his head fall on your shoulder, "I need...can I...can I…?". 

"You can cum inside" you kissed his head, feeling his cock stir inside you. Each time it felt even bigger, "It's okay, don't worry."

Jungkook sighed in relief, kissing and licking the skin on your shoulder, letting his hips bump against yours.

The sound of his skin against yours was getting louder and messier, as were the moans from both of you. 

With his mind too clouded to think clearly, but still quite aware of the situation, Jungkook lowered his hand all the way down, letting his index and ring fingers rub your clit, following the same messy, rapid rhythm his onslaught had.

You clenched your jaw, keeping a loud moan from leaving your lips. Your back curved the moment his fingers touched your sensitive spot.

Suddenly everything he did felt too much for you.

"I don't think I can take much more," he said between grunts, looking at you with dark, clouded eyes.

Seeing your boyfriend's reddened, swollen, glistening lips, his big eyes shining with desire and his messy hair covering his sweaty forehead was enough of a turn-on for you to squeeze his cock even tighter.

He moaned again, but unlike you, he didn't hold it back.

"It's okay, Jungkookie," You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling on it gently, "could you cum for me?" you whispered over his lips, licking the piercing that rested in the corner of it with the tip of your tongue.

Jungkook nodded quickly, letting your pussy milk his cock, and that was enough to cause the knot you felt in your belly to untie. Jungkook didn't stop moving until the last drop of his cum was inside you.

You both took a second before coming down from your euphoria. Jungkook fixed your shirt carefully, leaving a soft kiss on your neck as he finished. 

You smiled barely, caressing his cheek with your knuckles, "Aren't you going to get out of my pussy?" you asked teasingly.

Jungkook smiled back, but his smile was much bigger than yours, "No, you feel great."

You laughed helplessly, lowering your hands to his waist so you could pinch it gently. 

"Fine, but this time don't do anything, it's..." you looked at the clock on your bedside table, raising your eyebrows as you saw the time, "You seriously woke me up at five thirty in the morning so we could fuck??"

"We better just close our eyes and rest, we'll talk about this tomorrow" he kissed you shortly, before resting his head on your breasts again and settling back to sleep.

You just rolled your eyes in amusement, hugging Jungkook and letting tiredness take power over you again.

Materlist.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

lmfao i should’ve worded it better 😭 virgin ethan x virgin reader and reader has a breeding kink

Full disclaimer: Not sure how I feel about this, lmao. I didn't really write a plot for it👀

It's so short, and I've never written this kink when it's wasn't Ethan that had it, but I TRIED. Thank you for your request, love💕

Loaded - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You're ready for your first time with your boyfriend, but he's a little surprised when you don't want to use protection.

Contains: p in v, creampie, unprotected sex...but not really because reader is on birth control.

A/N: This is SO SHORT because I'm writing a super sweet, fluffy virgin smut atm. That'll be posted soon💕

Ethan’s head was spinning as he undressed you for the first time, soft gasps slipping past your lips whenever his hands brushed against your exposed skin. He couldn’t believe this was happening, something he’d waited so long for. 

Once you were completely bare for him, he took his jeans off, his boxers being the only barrier between the two of you. 

“You’re sure about this, right?” He asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “You want to do this?”

“Yes, Ethan,” you huffed, stepping closer to your boyfriend. “Don’t you?”

“So fucking bad,” he groaned, once the palm of your hand brushed over his cock. “Let me get a condom.”

“Do you really need one?” You questioned, your fingers moving against his sensitive tip. His hips bucked as you smirked at him. “I was hoping we could do it without one.”

“That’s so risky, baby,” he said, his eyes lusty as his hands ran over your hips. “What if I don’t pull out in time?”

“I don’t want you to pull out.”

His brown eyes grew wide at your words, a confused look on his face as he stared at you.

“You know babies come from unprotected sex, right?” 

“Eth, I’ve been on birth control for so long, and I take it every day,” you sweetly said, as your hand kept moving. You felt a wet spot starting to form from his precum. “I want to feel all of you, baby.”

“Fuck…you take it every day?” 

“Every morning,” you said with a nod, trying to convince him.

“Okay.”

When you laid back on Ethan’s bed, your legs spread for him, he groaned at the sight as he ran the tip of his cock over your dripping pussy.

“What if I cum too quick?” He asked, getting a little nervous. He knew he wasn’t going to last long just from his cock rubbing against you. You had a look of excitement on your face at his question, as he once again, got confused. “Isn’t it bad if I cum too quick?”

“Not if I can make you hard again,” you smirked, “because it would be so hot if you fucked your cum into me.”

“You gotta quit talking like that or I’ll cum before I even get inside you,” he chuckled, as he inched himself in. 

He stilled every time you winced, because regardless of how filthy your words were, he still wanted to take care of you. 

“God, baby. You’re so tight,” he said through heavy breathing, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you were okay. “You want me to give you a minute?”

“No, you can move,” you said, your mouth falling open once he did what you said. You were softly panting with each thrust, but once he sped up, you were a moaning mess.

Your sounds along with the amazing feeling of your pussy had Ethan struggling to keep it together. He looked away from you, staring at the pillows beside you as he tried so hard not to bust within the first two minutes.

“Look at me,” you whined, as your hand reached up to his face, turning his head so your eyes connected with his. The second he saw your furrowed brows, blown-out pupils, and focused on those sounds you were making, he started to whimper. 

“Shit, gonna cum.”

Your legs wrapped around him, holding him in place as his hips started to stutter, a low moan slipping past his lips as his cum filled your pussy. 

You were so turned on at the idea of it, but once it actually happened, you got this feral glint in your eyes. Ethan looked down at you as he stayed inside you, a smile playing on his lips.

“Is that what you wanted, baby?” He asked, before he started to move his hips again.

“Fuck..unf-yes,” you said between thrusts. “Fuck a baby into me.”

Ethan slowed down a little, his stomach lurching at your words. But you said you were on birth control, and he knew you wouldn’t lie to him, especially with something that would be so life altering, so he decided to go along with it.

“Aww, you want to be pregnant with my baby?”

“Yes, shit-I want everyone to know I’m yours,” you babbled, as he started to go faster, his thrusts getting deeper. “I need you to cum in me so much that the birth control won’t be able to stop it.”

“I’ll give you all my cum. Your tummy will be so big,” he said, his words along with his thrusts bringing you closer to the edge. “They’ll all know.”

“I want you to cum in me every day until I’m pregnant,” you said, your words laced with whimpers as his eyes started to flutter. He mumbled “I’m gonna cum again” before he started to pound into you. “Cum in me, baby. Please, I need it!”

His head fell forward as his thrusts got erratic, your name flooding out of his mouth over and over again as he shot his cum inside you. He took a second to catch his breath before he started to move again, trying so hard to bring you over the edge. His cock was so sensitive from his orgasms that it was almost painful, but your sounds just kept getting louder. He barely touched your clit when you cried out, your pussy squeezing him so tight as he let out a long, strained moan. 

Once you came down from your high, a blissful smile playing on your lips, Ethan finally slid out of you. His body rested on top of yours as your fingers ran through his curls.

“Thank you, babe,” you said, kissing the top of his head.

“That was so hot,” he mumbled against you. “I know you’re on birth control, but maybe we should get a Plan B…just in case.”