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#sorry that they think about what they want to say before they say it
mywritersmind · 3 days
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WINNING KISS - LN4
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summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.
listen up : no warnings!!
word count : 750
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I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.
I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.
“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.
“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.
He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.
A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.
She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.
The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.
As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.
She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.
My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.
I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”
I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”
“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”
“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.
She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.
“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.
She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”
I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”
She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.
“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.
“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.
“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.
She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.
When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.
She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.
When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.
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luveline · 1 day
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hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 
Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 
You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 
What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 
James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 
“Love, for sure.” 
“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 
“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”
James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 
Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 
“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 
Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 
“She did it to me, too.” 
Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 
“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 
“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 
The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 
James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 
“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 
“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 
“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 
“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 
“We can go back.” 
“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 
Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 
“I love you,” you say. 
Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 
“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 
“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 
“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 
Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 
Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 
You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 
“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 
“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 
Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 
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tender-rosiey · 3 days
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hello, love! i hope you're doing great! i love reading your works and thank you so much for writing such beautiful pieces 🫶🏻
soooo... i was thinking of making a request! i'm not sure if you've written about this or not and please feel free to ignore it if you're uncomfortable with writing it or if you've already written it but here's the request:
satoru with newborn twin daughters 🥹
i noticed that there are almost no twin dad gojo fics and we already know that he's a girl dad. plus, i love your writing style. hence this thought. again, thank you so much for your hard work, rose! stay hydrated and have a great day! byeeee!
twin girls (and gojo ig) — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: i cant believe it took me like 7 months to finally post this; i am so sorry 🙏 BUT i am so so happy that you like my works and srsly thank you for your sweet words. they mean the world 🥹 hope that you like this as well! have a wonderful day!! 🫶🫶
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the only thing worse than having one girl you can’t say no to is having two.
add to that the fact that satoru is already a softie when it comes to his daughters, and it’s a recipe for disaster—if you’re not there to intervene.
"papa, I want a dress!" one of your twins looks up at satoru with wide, sparkling eyes, her hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.
her sister quickly chimes in, her voice a little shyer but just as determined. "I-I want a dress too, papa!"
satoru crouches down to their level, hands on his knees as he looks between his two little girls, his white hair falling messily into his eyes.
“two dresses, huh?” his voice takes on a faux-serious tone. “what kind of dresses are we talking about?”
“sparkly!”
“twirly!”
“pink!”
“blue!”
their voices rise with excitement, and satoru’s grin only grows wider as he listens, nodding as though their demands are being carefully cataloged in his mind.
you can’t help but smile from the doorway, watching the scene unfold. his enthusiasm when it comes to them is both endearing and ridiculous.
"satoru," you call out, interrupting his train of thought. your arms are crossed, and a teasing smile plays on your lips. "we agreed they only need one dress each, remember?"
he turns toward you with a playful pout, the twins following his gaze.
“they’re my princesses, wifey! how can I deny them a little extra sparkle?” he says, completely unbothered by the parental negotiations you both agreed on just yesterday.
you raise an eyebrow, taking a few steps closer and placing a hand on his arm. “you’ll be sleeping on the couch if they come home with more than one each.”
satoru's expression shifts immediately, an exaggerated look of surrender plastered on his face as he straightens up, holding up his hands. "alright, alright. one dress each. promise."
later that evening, when you return home, your twin girls are twirling around in front of you in two dresses each—one sparkly, one twirly, naturally.
your gaze falls on satoru, who stands casually leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, whistling as if he’d done nothing wrong.
“satoru,” you pout, “I thought we had an agreement.”
he gives you a cheeky grin and a shrug, completely unbothered. “they were on sale,” he says as if that justifies everything.
the girls, oblivious to your exasperation, giggle and show off their new outfits, spinning around in excitement.
"mama, look! don't we look pretty?"
"yeah, mama! we look pretty, right?"
you press your lips into a thin line, but the fondness in your eyes betrays you. you sigh and ruffle their hair, "yes, very pretty, both of you."
the girls squeal in happiness and run around the house in their excitement. your husband nudges your arm gently with a teasing smile. you quirk an eyebrow before pushing him away with a chuckle.
you can never deny that you love seeing them so happy, even if it means satoru has bent the rules—again.
of course, life with your husband and your twin girls is a whirlwind. even bedtime is an adventure (read: a battle).
one night, the girls are bouncing off the walls in their matching pajamas, their giggles filling the room as they run circles around satoru, who’s sitting at the edge of the bed, utterly failing to get them under control.
"alright, time to settle down," he says, his tone light but lacking any real authority. the girls shake their heads as their dad is simply not cut out to be the strict parent in their eyes.
however, when he opens his arms, one of the girls takes the chance to climb his lap. his hand ruffles her hair, and she hums happily .
"papa, can we have three stories tonight?" the twin on his lap asks, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
her sister, not wanting to miss out, rushes over and clings to his other arm. "no! I want four stories!"
satoru sighs dramatically, glancing over at you for backup. you are sitting like the boss you are on the loveseat in the room. you look up when you feel your husband's eyes on you.
“they only get one story,” you remind him, trying not to laugh at his predicament.
satoru looks between the two girls, their wide eyes fixed on him. “alright, alright,” he finally concedes, holding up two fingers. “two stories. that’s my final offer.”
he hears you groan, and his heart breaks at disappointing you, but he can’t just say no to them. the twins cheer as if they’ve won a war, grabbing their favorite books from the bedside table.
it takes you a few moments before you smile helplessly as you watch him negotiate with them like it’s a high-stakes sorcery mission. it's not long before your daughters fall asleep. satoru's voice has always been comfort incarnate for them.
"you’re too soft," you tease as you walk over to him, pinching his nose—he yelps as quietly as he can, so you plant a soft kiss on his temple.
he leans into your touch for a moment, closing his eyes. "can’t help it," he mutters, "they’ve got your charm.”
afternoons are no less chaotic, especially at the park, where the twins drag satoru toward the swings, their little hands gripping his fingers as they bounce excitedly.
"papa, push me higher!" one demands, already settling onto the swing.
"me too! higher!" her sister echoes, scrambling onto the swing beside her.
satoru stands behind them, cracking his knuckles.
“higher, huh? I think I can manage that.” he gives the first swing a firm push, sending one of the twins soaring up, her laughter filling the air.
you sit on the third swing, smiling at the scene.
satoru looks over at you, his grin softening as his eyes meet yours. the way their laughter fills the atmosphere fills your heart, and you can tell that satoru feels the same.
at least, until he decides to push you and make you take full 360s on the swing.
“wow, mama is swinging!”
“in a circle!”
“satoru, I will kill you!!”
"waiting for that, wifey!"
dinner, as always, is an ongoing fight. tonight, the twins are in full protest mode against their vegetables.
"I don’t like broccoli," one twin pouts, pushing her plate away.
"me neither," her sister adds, crossing her arms as if this decision has been made final.
satoru, ever their ally in mischief, leans back in his chair, his expression far too relaxed. "well, I guess no one’s eating broccoli tonight," he says, clearly enjoying this little act of rebellion.
while you're proud of your girls backing each other up, you rather it not be right now. you shoot satoru a warning glance, shaking your head with a sigh. "they need to eat their veggies, satoru."
he shrugs, smirking lazily as he glances at the twins. “they’re gojo kids. I think they’ll survive without a little broccoli.”
the twins giggle, clearly siding with him. but you know how to play this game too; otherwise, you would have never been able to handle the man child beside you. “okay, fine,” you say with a sly smile. “no dessert if they don’t eat their veggies.”
the girls’ eyes go wide in horror, and they quickly turn to their father, their last hope. “papa, no! we want dessert!”
caught between you and the twins, satoru sighs dramatically, like he’s being asked to sacrifice everything.
“alright, alright, princesses,” he concedes, hands raised in defeat. “but you’ve gotta eat the broccoli if you want dessert. we gotta listen to mama.”
the twins reluctantly pick at their plates, eyeing the broccoli with disdain, but determined to make it to dessert.
you exchange a triumphant smile with satoru, who just rolls his eyes playfully.
and in the quieter moments, when the twins are asleep, and it’s just the two of you, he wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I don’t know how you do it,” he murmurs softly. “keeping us all in line.”
you smile, leaning into his touch, “someone’s gotta make sure we don’t end up with a house full of sparkly dresses.”
satoru laughs quietly, pulling you closer. “what can I say? I’m weak when it comes to you three.”
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musaslullaby · 1 day
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Is the princess really getting married?
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Charles leclerc x fem reader
Summary: The Princess of Monaco is getting married, but the fans don't know who the lucky one is.
Face: people on Pinterest, and the driver.
Warning: fluff, Instagram AU.
A/N: There will be a second part.
Masterlist
¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸/
Ynofficial
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Description: Me every time they tell me I should go get ready.
Liked by user56, lewishaamilton, and other 948.983.
user43: Yn doesn’t want to be a princess anymore.
user32: Let’s switch places, girl. ❤️ Like to author
yourbrother: Yn, you shouldn’t post these things.
Ynofficial: Don’t be so strict.
yourbrother: I’m just trying to keep you on the right track.
Ynofficial: How boring.
user3: The best princess I’ve ever seen.
user12: This is too funny.
user34: POV: How to pretend not to be a princess.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: POV: It’s not a POV.
user34: YNNNN!!!!
Ynofficial: Yes, that’s my name.
yourbrother: What am I going to do with you? ❤️ Like to author
user78: What do you have to do today?
Ynofficial: Another one of those shoots for something, honestly, I don’t even know.
user23: Wait, you’re doing a photoshoot and you don’t even know what for?
Ynofficial: Exactly.
Ynofficial
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Description: At least I have him to keep me company.
Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 8.483.939.
user45: How cuteeee.
user67: The luckiest little dog in the world.
user221: Yn doesn’t need a boyfriend; she has her dog.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: I totally agree.
yourbrother: He’s the only one who deserves to live in the palace.
Ynofficial: I know you love my son more than me, thanks.
yourbrother: I never said that.
Ynofficial: So, you love me?
yourbrother: You trapped me. ❤️ Like to author
user21: The last photo is worthy of a queen.
user34: Maybe you meant goddess?
user56: Guys, doesn’t that dog look like Leclerc’s dog?
user7: Who’s Leclerc?
f1lover: How can you not know? He’s a god on earth.
user90: He’s an F1 driver who has a dog of the same breed named Leo.
user50: Now that I think about it, they adopted them around the same time.
user54: Coincidence?
Ynofficial
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Description: Okay, okay, I have to admit I had fun this time.
Liked by user43, checoperez, and other 98,453.
yourbrother: I told you.
Ynofficial: You usually tell a lot of lies.
user45: I love the relationship between Yn and her brother.
❤️ Like to author
user6: The heir to the Monaco throne.
user7: He’s very kind, I met him.
Ynofficial: Try living with him, then we’ll see.
user21: Were the jewels real?
Ynofficial: Yes, and they’re really heavy too.
user6: I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.
Ynofficial: The clothes are super uncomfortable tooooo.
user67: But they’re beautiful.
user0: They look amazing on her.
Ynofficial: I can’t wait to take them off.
Ynofficial
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Description: A date before saying goodbye.
Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 4.784.839.
user21: Who are you with, girl?
Ynofficial: With a human being.
user6: The luckiest human in the world. ❤️ Like to author
user5: YN OF MONACO WHAT ARE YOU DOING??
user34: Thank you, Yn.
user1: Whoever it is should thank their lucky stars every day to be with someone like Yn.
❤️ Like to author
user45: So, is she engaged??
user41: Yn, don’t play these tricks on us.
user67: It’s not funny.
user3: I love the dress.
Ynofficial: I don’t, they forced me to wear it.
user56: No way we could afford it.
user32: I wish I were a princess.
Ynofficial: Wish granted, please come take my place.
user6: Guys, isn’t the Monaco GP today?
user5: Oh God, you’re right.
user43: Do you think she’s going to the GP?
user8: I didn’t know she was into F1.
user09: Neither did I.
user5: Yn is the black sheep of the family.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: You’re absolutely right.
user56: That description doesn’t sound like you.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: Sorry, too poetic.
yourbrother: Mom wants to talk to you.
user6: Trouble’s coming.
Ynofficial: Time to run off to Mexico. Checo, will you host me?
checoperez: Whenever you want. ❤️ Like to author
user32: Wait, they know each other???
user9: Did I miss something?
user78: What does this dialogue even mean?
user76: YN?
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Ynofficial
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Description: Guess who’s not supposed to be wandering around the paddock?
Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and other 877.473.738.
gp1: YN OF MONACO.
vroom: Wait, they allowed her to go to the GP??
race: I think at least someone from the royal family always has to be there?
user43: YN, DID YOU MEET CHARLES?
Ynofficial: 🤫🤫.
16_55: IT’S A YESSS.
user2: MY TWO FAVORITE PEOPLE MEETING. ❤️ Like to author
yourbrother: Where did you go? Mom’s going to be very angry.
Ynofficial: Cover for me.
yourbrother: Wait, what?
Ynofficial: Thanks, love you.
yourbrother: No, Yn, come back here, we agreed to stay low-key.
Ynofficial: No one will see me.
yourbrother: That includes me too, right?
Ynofficial: Maybe yes, maybe no.
63_: I love this woman.
user42: Is the car comfortable?
Ynofficial: My princess ass didn’t appreciate it.
user21_: That’s why you’re my favorite princess.
Ynofficial: I don’t think you know any others.
danielricciardo: Princess Yn is a fan of mine.
Ynofficial: You’re my childhood.
danielricciardo: I’m not that old.
Ynofficial: Don’t worry, Daniel, it’s hard to accept.
landonorris: Wait, Daniel met her and I didn’t?
maxverstappen1: He’s just privileged.
Ynofficial: I’m coming to you, don’t fight.
user98: Everyone wants Yn. ❤️ Like to author
81_4: She’s anything but a princess.
f1lover: Please marry me.
Ynofficial: Sorry, I’m a bit busy.
Ynofficial
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Description: As a good princess, I have to congratulate Charles Leclerc for winning his home race, Monaco. Congratulations, Predestined One.
Liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and other 42.457.473
f1lover: How sweet, Yn.
ferrarifan: After this post, I’m over the moon.
race_: The Monaco curse is broken.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: Yes, but now Charles has to endure at least a month of bad luck.
charles_leclerc: Thank you, Yn. ❤️ Like to author
charles_leclerc: I thank you, Your Highness, for wasting two minutes to make the post. ❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: Consider yourself lucky.
landonorris: Will the next victory post be dedicated to me?
georgerussell63: Keep dreaming, mate. ❤️ Like to author
oscarpiastri: Charles has reached the pinnacle of his career after this post.
carlossainz55: I can hear him laughing and blushing from here. ❤️ Like to author
maxverstappen1: Princess, may I humbly request your attention? ❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: I always have my full attention on you, Max Emilian Verstappen.
charles_leclerc: No, today is my day, step aside. ❤️ Like to author
user56: Is Charles jealous??
user45: Max asking for Yn’s attention?
Ynofficial
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Description: I can officially say I’m off-limits.
Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 98,457.633.
yourbrother: I’m so happy for you, little sister.
❤️ Like to author
landonorris: Can I be the best man?
Ynofficial: No, you might show up to the wedding already drunk.
maxverstappen1: You said yesss! ❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: I said yesss!
georgerussell63: Congratulations, guys.
❤️ Like to author
lewishamilton: Congrats, but honestly, I expected it.
❤️ Like to author
oscarpiastri: He has the eyes of love.
❤️ Like to author
user44: No, okay, we need to figure out who it is.
f1lover: It’ll be the most beautiful wedding ever.
ynlove: Our little girl is growing up.
charleslec_: I hope it’s Charles.
race: It’s definitely a driver.
vroom: I don’t know; it could also be a prince or noble.
user32: I doubt it, knowing Yn.
ynqueen: Love is blind.
user3: Whoever it is, I’m so happy for you.
user77: I’m going to drop a bomb: I think it’s Max.
maxie_: Oh God, yes, can you imagine??
1_11: The best couple ever.
Ynofficial: I like your theories.
user66: Yn, help us, please.
cl16: Has anyone noticed Charles didn’t even comment?
55_: Strange.
Ynofficial
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Description: Goodbye, Monaco.
Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and other 757.648.
yourbrother: I can’t believe mom let you go.
carlossainz55: Knowing Yn, she would’ve gone anyway. ❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: My friends know me too well.
user43: Wait, how long have they known each other???
formula1_: More importantly, since when does Yn love F1?
f1lover: It’s a new thing, actually.
race: Yn, princess of the people.
Ynofficial: Always at your service.
landonorris: Now she’s getting a big head.
charles_leclerc: As soon as they offered you to skip your duties, you accepted right away.
Ynofficial: You shouldn’t talk to a princess like that.
charles_leclerc: And you shouldn’t talk to a prince like that.
f1love: WAIT, WHAT DID CHARLES MEAN???
charlesmylife: Guys, Yn deleted it.
charelsofmonaco: No, I don’t understand.
16cl: I arrived too late 😭😭😭.
Flove1: Finally, we have proof that this man exists.
user65: I was convinced it was a joke.
user90: Secret agents of the world, unite, we need to find out who Yn’s boyfriend is.
user67: YN, WE HAVE TOO MANY QUESTIONS.
Ynofficial: And I have zero answers.
user56: Where are you running to, girl?
Ynofficial: Away from nobility.
Ynofficial
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Description: I had to try the ice cream in Italy.
Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 74.673.883.
yourbrother: Bring me some.
Ynofficial: No.
charles_leclerc: I’ll bring it to you.
Ynofficial: Since when are you two so chummy?
f1lover: No okay, we missed something.
race: Something important.
Formula1: Is that Leo or Yn’s dog?
f_1: The numbers don’t add up.
user78: I can’t tell them apart.
user1: They look the same.
landonorris: Good job, Yn, distract him so I can win in Monza.
carlossainz55: NO, YN, BRING CHARLES HERE NOW.
Ynofficial: Now I don’t know what to do anymore.
user56: Yn is a princess even outside of Monaco.
user09: How cute is the guy tying her shoes?
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684 notes · View notes
girlgenius1111 · 2 days
Text
sick day
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alexia putellas x reader... mila fic illness strikes the putellas household, and alexia is determined to take care of her baby... even if she is sick too. you think about how far your wife has come. sickfic things :) soft mami alexia 🙂
Alexia’s alarm blared through the house, waking you up where you were passed out in the rocking chair in Mila’s room. Your daughter stirred, but was evidently too exhausted from keeping you up half the night to fully wake up. 
Somewhat grumpily, you stood up and stretched, before making your way to the bedroom. You were assuming Alexia had gotten up early and started to get dressed without turning off her alarm, leaving it to go off on her nightstand. When you walked into the room, though, and saw her still out cold in bed, you instantly knew something was wrong. You turned her alarm off and gently tried to rouse your wife. Her skin was hot to the touch, and you frowned, beginning to have an idea as to what was wrong with the blonde. 
Pushing a few sweaty strands of hair off her forehead, you watched as her face scrunched with discomfort. “Baby, wake up for me.” You murmured. 
Alexia just groaned in response, reaching out a hand to grab a fistful of your shirt, as if she was afraid you were going to go. 
“You’re really hot. Are you feeling okay?” 
Alexia shook her head mutely, squirming until she had kicked the covers away from one of her legs. You knew she was feeling bad, if only for the lack of jokes made about you calling her ‘really hot’. 
“Sick.” She mumbled pathetically, tugging on your shirt until you gave in and sat on the bed next to her. She snuggled into your side, radiating heat, and you tried not to flinch away when her warm cheek pressed onto your thigh. You carded your fingers through her hair, making a mental list of all the things you’d need to grab and make sure to do, the first of which being calling her out of training. Once you had texted the other captains, trusting them to pass the message along to the coaching staff, you focused back on Alexia. 
“I’m sorry you don’t feel well. Let me get you some medicine, okay?” 
You tried to slide out of her grasp, but she wouldn’t budge. Her arms remained wrapped around your leg, her cheek firmly planted against it. “No. Stay. Need you.” She murmured, not making very much sense. 
“I’m not going anywhere, I just want to grab something to help you feel better.” You told her, smiling a bit at the pout on her face, and the way she shook her head into you. 
“No. You make me feel better. Stay.” She insisted, pressing herself even further into you as if to prove a point. As you were about to respond, though, you heard a soft ‘Mama!’ come over the baby monitor, and Alexia shot upright. “Mila.” She said raspily, clearly delirious with fever as she tried to climb out of bed. You stopped her, gently pushing her to lie back down. 
“No. Stay.” You echoed her words from before. “I’ll check on Meels, you stay here.” 
“Bring her?” Alexia asked, relenting as she flopped back onto the pillows. 
You shook your head sympathetically, though. “No, I don’t want you to get her sick.” 
Alexia frowned but nodded nonetheless, gesturing for you to go to the baby, who was still making quite the racket. “Give her a kiss for me.” Alexia said sadly.
Alexia drifted off while you went to check on your daughter, picking her up and frowning at the heat coming off her skin as well. She whined, flopping into your chest without saying a word. 
Your wife startled awake when you reentered the room, looking surprised and concerned at the sight of a very grumpy baby in your arms. She was still in her pajamas, her cheek resting on your shoulder as she pouted, clearly feeling as awful as her Mami did. 
“Amor?” Alexia questioned, sitting up with a grimace as her head pounded at the movement. 
“She’s sick too, I think. She’s got a fever and she’s all stuffed up.” You commented. “So you two can be sick in here together.” You handed Mila to Alexia, heart almost bursting at the sight of Alexia carefully cradling her daughter to her chest and resting a hand on her forehead. Mila was still frowning, though she snuggled into Alexia as soon as she could. 
Alexia looked up at you in a panic. “She is really warm! We need to take her temperature and give her medicine and something to eat, and maybe some water, and we should call the doctor just in case,” 
“I’ve got it. I’ll take care of both my girls.” You assured her, pressing a lingering kiss to her hot forehead. “Just sit here with her while I get some stuff for you both.” 
You rushed around the house, gathering the thermometer, some crackers, adult and baby medicine, and snagging Mila’s plush bear that she was rather obsessed with, before heading back to your bedroom. You walked in, not really looking up at your wife before dumping everything onto the bed, and picking out the thermometer. You turned to Alexia, ready to wrangle her into letting you take her temperature, only to find her sniffling, her eyes suspiciously glossy. 
“Ale?” You said softly, stepping closer to cup her face in your hand. “Why are you crying?” 
“Did I get her sick?” Alexia asked tearfully, staring down at the slumbering baby. “Is she sick because of me?” 
You repressed a sigh, instead opting to lean forward and kiss your wife’s forehead. “Ale, you got sick today. You can’t have gotten her sick if she came down with it at the same time.” 
“Oh. Right.” Alexia sniffled. She settled back into the pillows, her arms keeping Mila held tightly against her. “I knew that. I can barely think straight, my head is all cloudy.” 
She sounded miserable, and you thought back to a time where Alexia would only admit what was wrong once she hit her absolute breaking point. 
You hadn’t thought about it, until that day, that in the entire year you’d been with Alexia, you’d never seen her sick. Either the woman had an insane immune system, or she didn’t let you see her sick. But with an important training session today, Alexia couldn’t avoid you like she normally would have. And for some reason, she was having a harder time than normal pretending she was okay. 
Her movements were sluggish, her eyes squinting from the sun in a way they normally never did. She’d barely had any water, and her hands shook whenever she pointed out where she wanted the ball. Everyone could see it, but no one had the guts to tell their captain that she looked like she shouldn’t be training. 
Well, no one but you. You’d watched on for long enough, hoping that she would take a break for herself, without anyone having to make her, but after she pushed away a water bottle handed in her direction, opting instead to glare off into the distance, you were tired of waiting. Her face had grown alarmingly pale, suddenly devoid of any color despite the high temperatures. Training was almost done anyway, and you quietly asked the coach for permission to try to get Alexia to step away and go home with you early. He easily agreed, able to see like everyone else that your girlfriend was barely still on her feet. It was alarming that she didn’t notice you speaking to him, even more alarming when she didn’t move even an inch when you grabbed her hand in yours. Normally, she didn’t like to be very physical with you at work, wanting to remain professional. 
“Ale?” You said gently. She just grunted in response, staring off at the sky with her jaw clenched. “Come on, baby.” 
You’d correctly clocked that she wasn’t speaking, for whatever reason, so she was unable to argue with you as you began to pull her towards the locker room. Her hand was clammy in yours, and she stumbled slightly next to you as you both walked. You wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying her. Only when you arrived in the changing room did you let go, guiding her to sit down on the bench in front of her locker. 
“Alexia?” You prompted, crouching down in front of her. She looked at you for the first time, eyes filling with tears. Hastily, you placed both your hands on her knees, trying to soothe her. “Talk to me.” 
“I… I might be a little sick.” She managed, blinking hard. “I’m okay, though. Really.”  
“Alexia.” You fixed her with a look which only made her look like a defiant toddler. 
She frowned at you, not used to being called out on the bullshit she spewed when she was sick. “It’s just a little… insect?” 
“A little bug.” You corrected with a smile, rubbing your thumb across her cheekbone affectionately. “Tell me your symptoms.”  
“No-”
“Alexia, we have a match this weekend and if you want to be better in time, you need to tell me how sick you are so I can help.” 
Alexia’s frown deepened, but she relented, dropping her head as she spoke. “Throat hurts. Really bad.” She croaked, coughing weakly into the crook of her elbow. “Head. Stomach. Nose is all… stuffed.” 
She seemed genuinely distraught to be so ill, like her body had betrayed her, which you supposed it had. But this is what happened when you ran yourself into the ground, not that you’d tell Alexia that right now. That lecture could wait. 
“Okay. We’re going to go home, take a shower, take some cold medicine, and you’re going to go right to bed.” 
“Amor,” She whined, looking longingly back out at the training ground. 
You scoffed. “I’m not asking Putellas. Get your bag.” 
With a sigh and a glare sent your way, she slipped her boots off and her slides on as you did the same. She stood, bag slung over her shoulder, looking absolutely miserable as you both began to make your way to the car. You reached for her hand, a bit relieved when she intertwined her fingers with yours; she wasn’t really mad, then. It was silent for a few moments, before her raspy voice pulled you from your thoughts.  
“Amor? Can you carry my bag?” She asked quietly, her face burning with shame… or maybe that was just the fever. Either way, you smiled encouragingly at her, nodding and throwing her bag over your shoulder. It was one of the first times Alexia asked you for help in a genuine, meaningful way, and it made you ridiculously happy. 
Alexia didn’t seem to have the same reservations now as she did then, and for that you were grateful. She dutifully opened her mouth to let you take her temperature, her fingers fidgeting with Mila’s wisps of hair. The baby was out cold on her Mami, letting out the smallest and most adorable snores you’d ever heard in your life. 
The thermometer beeped and you pulled it away to check the little screen, frowning down at the result. 
“What?” Alexia asked, feeling irrationally worried that her fever would be high enough for her to need to go see a doctor. 
“I don’t know, Ale. This says you’re really hot.” You said, eyebrows knit together as you looked back up at her. 
“Too hot?” 
You forced yourself to remain serious. “Maybe we should see a doctor… but I’m not sure who specializes in making people less sexy?”
Alexia’s frown gave way to a small smile before she forced a glare back on her face. “Tonta. You scared me!” 
“You were frowning too much, I had to do something.” You laughed, patting her cheek affectionately. “Just a small fever, don’t worry. Move Mila a bit so I can get hers?”
Alexia shifted her arms protectively around the baby. “Amor she’s sleeping, don’t wake her.” 
You rolled your eyes, picking up the other thermometer, the one that went across the forehead. “This won’t wake her.” 
Alexia stared at you as you took Mila’s temperature, smoothing the thermometer across her forehead.  “Why didn’t you use that one on me?” She asked, borderline pouting at this point. 
“Your head is too big for it.” You said casually, reaching for the box that had Mila’s baby medicine in it. 
“Hey!” Alexia protested. “I have a regular sized head!” 
You chuckled, reading the label on the back of the box to yourself before giving Alexia your attention. “Ale, amor, that is a baby thermometer.” 
“Oh.” 
“Oh.” You mocked, dodging her hand as it came out to lightly hit your arm. “She has to take her medicine with food, but her fever isn’t too bad yet so I think we can let her sleep. You should eat something so you can take something, though.” 
Alexia grew pale at your words, and she shook her head. “No thank you.” 
“Not hungry?”Alexia shook her head again, lips pressed tightly together. “Are you nauseous?” 
This time, you got a small nod. You handed her her water bottle, instructing her to take small sips. “You’re probably dehydrated. Let me get you some electrolyte water.” 
“And cough drops, please. And a cool washcloth for my head. And one for Mila’s. And-”
“I’ll get it all, Ale, don’t worry.” You promised, amused as you always were at how easily Alexia now allowed you to take care of her. 
“Thank you, amor.” She called out sweetly, shifting under the covers so that her and Mila were nice and tucked in.
You shook your head, impressed with Alexia for her growth, and honestly with yourself for forcing it. She had, once, been the most difficult patient.
It was routine, at this point, for you to show up at Alexia’s the morning after a match, coffee and pastries in hand. You and Alexia both needed time to unwind by yourselves, so you each spent the night at your own apartments, before spending the entire off day together. Really, both of you wished deeply that there was no night away from each other, but the prospect of bringing that up and seeming clingy terrified you both out of saying anything. 
You knocked, as you always did, expecting your girlfriend to quickly answer the door, still cozy in her pajamas, all ready to spend the day the way she most liked; with you. This time, though, there was no audible movement from the other side of the door, no Alexia greeting you with a soft smile and a peck on the cheek. You knocked again, torn between worrying for Alexia, and worrying that, somehow, you’d completely missed some signal that she didn’t want you to come over today. 
Before you could knock for a third time, though, the door opened, just a crack. Alexia looked horrible, her face sickly pale and a sheen of sweat visible on her forehead. She had a deep frown set on her face, one that you immediately matched. 
“Ale-?”
“Go home. Please.”
The thought of feeling rejected didn’t even cross your mind, too concerned by the raspy sound of your girlfriend's voice, the squint of her eyes as she looked at you. 
“What’s wrong baby?” 
“Just a headache. I’ll be okay tomorrow.” She rasped, attempting to shut the door on you. You shoved your foot in just in time, hearing her sigh as she allowed you to push your way into her apartment. All the shades were drawn, every light off, and you quickly shut the door behind you, stopping the flood of light from the hallway. Alexia relaxed minutely after you did so, though she continued to try to get you to leave. “Amor, please. I just need quiet and sleep.” 
For a moment, you felt unsure of yourself. The last, and only, time you’d seen Alexia sick, it had been a quick 24 hour thing, and there wasn’t much you could do for her. There wasn’t much she’d let you do for her, other than dropping her off at home and allowing you to make sure she had cold medicine in her cabinet. 
You reached out, placing your hand on her arm, feeling slightly emboldened by the way she leaned into the contact. “You can have quiet and sleep even if I’m here taking care of you.” 
Alexia shook her head, grimacing at the motion. “No, it’s your day off. Go do something fun, you don’t have to be here with me.” 
You gave her an odd look, taking her hand in yours as you began to pull her back to her bedroom. “I want to be here. Besides, I won’t have any fun knowing you’re miserable here all by yourself.” 
“But amor,”
“No, Ale. I’m staying.” 
Acting more confident than you felt, you guided her towards her bed, shoving gently at her arms to get her to sit down on the edge. She slumped down, barely having the strength to hold herself up, let alone argue anymore with you. You sighed sympathetically, cradling her cheek in your hand. 
“Just a headache?” You asked doubtfully. 
Alexia let out a noise that was somewhere between a whimper and a groan, opening her eyes to blearily look at you. “Maybe… maybe it is a migraine.” 
“Maybe.” You scoffed quietly, guiding her to lay down and pulling the covers up around her. “I’ll let you sleep in a minute, but have you taken anything?” 
Your girlfriend’s grimace deepened. “No. I do not need anything.” 
“Ale-”
“I said no.” Alexia snapped, guilt panging in her chest at the hurt look on your face. She knew, logically, that you were just trying to help but the prospect of taking medicine, of admitting that she really wasn’t okay was completely terrifying to her. She didn’t want to admit any weakness, especially not to you. She had to be the strong one. That was the role she’d always played in relationships, the role she played in life, and she didn’t intend for that to change now. 
Alexia had to be okay, so that she could make sure you were okay. 
Ridiculously, she felt tears cloud her eyes, a few threatening to fall as you turned around and walked out of her room without another word. She didn’t object, thinking that you were leaving, and she deserved nothing less with the way she’d treated you today. The blonde remained silent as she cried, squeezing her eyes shut as if that would lessen the pain in her head, and in her chest. Only now that you were gone did she realize how much she wanted you to just… be here with her. 
Too focused on breathing through her tears, she didn’t hear you walking back into the room until you were right next to the bed, thumb brushing a tear off her cheek. 
“You’re okay, love. You’re going to feel better soon, please just take these for me.” You requested, holding out your hand in which a few pills sat. Alexia’s eyes blinked open in surprise, her lip trembling as she looked up at you in wonder. She reached for the pills, still completely silent, taking them dry.  
“I am sorry.” She rasped after a second. You reached for her water, brows knitted together as you tried to work out what she was apologizing for. “You can go. You do not have to stay, I understand.” 
You shook your head, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and pushing her hair out of her face. It was down, probably only making her hotter, and you made a mental note to put it up for her when you had a second. 
“Ale, I told you. I’m not going anywhere.” You promised, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Can I get you to eat something?” 
Your girlfriend still looked very confused. “N-no. I tried to eat and it didn’t go well.” She blushed heavily at the statement, but you didn’t look phased at all, continuing to stroke her hair. 
“Okay. Just small sips of water then. Anything else you need, baby?” 
Again, Ale shook her head. “No, I am okay. I am fine, amor, please do not worry or feel like you have to stay, I really feel fine-”
You cut her off, covering her mouth with your hand. She looked affronted, and you fought back a smile. 
“I’m staying, Alexia. And please stop saying you’re fine, you aren’t. It’s okay, you don’t have to be fine.” 
The blonde just blinked at you before slowly nodding her head. Her eyes were beginning to droop, her grip on your shirt loosening just slightly. 
“Okay, close your eyes. I’m just going to grab one more thing and then I’ll be back.” 
It only took a few minutes for you to grab a small towel out of her linen closet and wet it with cool water before returning to her room. Alexia’s eyes weren’t shut. Instead, they were open, tracking your every movement as she fought sleep. She sighed in relief when you laid the towel across her forehead, though she still clearly refused to let herself sleep, gaze still fixed on you. 
“Thank you.” She said softly, the words feeling inadequate, yet the look in your eyes told her that you understood how grateful she was in that moment. 
“Of course, baby. Do you need anything else?” 
Alexia hesitated for a moment, stealing herself before she took a deep breath and patted the spot on the bed next to her hopefully. You smiled at her, the sunshine smile she always got lost in, the sight of it making the pain in her head dull for just a moment. 
Before getting under the covers with her, you took your shirt off and discarded it onto the floor, for your benefit as much as hers. Alexia was absolutely radiating heat, but you didn’t dare pull the covers away from her while she was awake. 
Finally, you slid into the bed with Alexia. Nudging the midfielder forward, you situated yourself behind her, allowing her to rest back against your body. Her warm cheek turn to settle against your chest, and even though the towel touching your skin gave you chills, you were happy to provide her a bit of comfort. 
“Feeling a bit better?” You asked, brushing a piece of hair away from her sweaty forehead. 
“Yeah.” She admitted. 
She really was. Her head already felt better from the medicine, her body temperature wasn’t as suffocating, and the comfort she got from the feeling of being held by you was inexplicable. 
“You are… good medicine.” She mumbled, hands resting over where yours lay across her stomach. 
You smiled, pressing a kiss into her hair. Sick Ale, when she wasn’t being ridiculously stubborn, was incredibly adorable. 
It was this same medicine that Alexia preferred, even now. Years had passed, and she still swore that laying in your arms made her feel better than any pill she could take. Evidently, Mila agreed, because she’d spent the day either sprawled across either Alexia’s chest or yours. 
She stubbornly turned away from the little cup of medicine you tried to get her to take, grumpily grumbling into her Mami’s shirt as she hid from you. 
“Mila,” you laughed, running your nails up and down her back. The baby just grunted, though she’d started talking in earnest recently, phrases and sentences coming along nicely though she preferred one word answers most of the time. “Come on, baby. It’ll make you feel better.” 
“No.” Mila declared, clinging tightly onto Alexia’s shirt as if her Mami wouldn’t make her take the medicine she so despised. Which, in any other case, would have been accurate. Now, though, Mila’s temperature was high and she looked completely miserable. The medicine was necessary, and you both knew it. 
“Mila, venga.” Alexia pried her baby’s hands off her shirt, turning her around so there was nowhere for her to hide. Mila promptly burst into tears at the sight of you still sitting on the edge of the bed, the red liquid in hand. Alexia shushed her, sitting up with a frown, growing paler as she did so. 
“Don’t want it,” Mila sobbed, looking pleadingly between you and your wife. 
Alexia looked at you, and you looked right back at her. Being sick wouldn’t get Alexia out of having to play the bad cop; you’d made it clear that Alexia couldn’t just rely on you to be strict with Mila after the 10th time she picked Mila up from her tummy time before she was done. 
“I’ll take it with you, cariño, sí? You take your medicine, and Mama will put on a movie for you, and you can have some ice cream. Okay?” 
You rolled your eyes at the bribery, though you really didn’t care and were moments off of doing the same thing. 
“Okay.” Mila huffed dramatically, glaring as you brought the medicine to her lips. “No! Mami first.” 
“Vale, vale” Alexia chuckled, taking the cup from your hand and tossing it back easily. Mila watched her closely, looking somewhat placated when your wife didn’t make a face. You refilled the cup, smiling proudly when Mila allowed you to tip it into her mouth. She made a face, spluttering unnecessarily at the taste. 
“Yucky!” She exclaimed, frowning at the bottle of children's medicine until you put it on the nightstand, out of sight. “Ice cream.” 
“Okay, princesa. Ice cream.” You agreed, kissing her on the forehead and heading out of the room, not thinking to glance at your wife’s face. 
Something you would regret when you entered the room again, the question of if Mila wanted sprinkles or not on the tip of your tongue, only to find the two and a half year old sitting by herself on the bed, eyes fixed on the TV. 
“Mila? Where is Mami?” You wondered, glancing towards the bathroom door but not seeing a light coming from underneath. 
Wordlessly, Mila pointed to the bathroom, entranced by the movie playing. 
With a frown you walked to the bathroom door, knocking and waiting a beat before pushing it open. Alexia was hunched over the toilet, trying in vain to keep the sound of her being sick quiet. 
“Oh, Ale,” you sighed, leaving the door open a crack behind you before crouching down at your wife’s side. 
She finished, leaning back into you with an exhausted sigh. You flushed the toilet and allowed your wife to settle back against your chest. 
“Joder.” She swore. “That medicine is horrible, mi amor. I almost threw up all over Mila.” 
You laughed, running your hand up and down her abdomen. “I’m sorry, love. You were very brave.” 
She pouted slightly, sitting up off you and attempting to climb to her feet. “I’m just glad Mila didn’t throw up.” 
You got up too, wrapping an arm around her waist when she took an unsteady step towards the door. “Ale, don’t say that yet–”
As you were about to finish your sentence, almost as if she understood comedic timing, Mila shouted out from the bedroom. 
“Mami! Don’t feel good,” she cried, a tremble to her voice that told you what was coming. Abandoning Alexia in favor of saving your sheets, you moved as fast as you could out of the bathroom and to Mila’s side, arriving just a second too late. You rubbed her back as she threw up onto the bed, cringing internally at what cleaning this up would entail. Alexia stepped out of the bathroom, face going white again at the sight in front of her, wordlessly holding out her arms for Mila. 
“Bath time, mija.” She said soothingly, picking her daughter up and looking at you. “I can change the bedding once–”
You rolled your eyes fondly, gently nudging her towards the bathroom door. “No, Ale. I’ll handle the bed. You get her cleaned up.” 
Alexia nodded wearily, knowing full well she would only be capable of getting Mila clean before she collapsed back onto the bed in exhaustion. Hopefully, onto some clean sheets. 
“Sorry, Mami.” Mila whimpered, clinging on tight to your wife as she was carried into the bathroom. 
“It’s alright, Mija. I threw up, too. It happens. We just have to rest until we feel better, vale?” 
You smiled, beginning to pull the sheets off the bed. Ale had come so far her somewhat self destructive habits fading with time, and with love from you. She liked to take care of herself, now, if for no other reason than to be a good example for her daughter. 
You ended up under the fresh sheets and covers an hour later, your wife settled between your legs, back to your chest. You ran your fingers through her hair and she did the same to Mila, her daughter laid directly on top of her, dressed in a clean, fuzzy onesie. Mila was so much like your wife, and you were grateful for that every day. 
“Cariño? Do you want to take some more medicine?” Alexia wondered, rubbing her hand over her daughter’s back. After the earlier… incident… you’d agreed not to push the medicine issue, especially since Mila’s fever had dropped. 
Mila frowned up at her Mami, shoving her face into Alexia’s shirt. 
“No. Cuddles.” She grumbled. 
Alexia chuckled, kissing the top of her daughter's head. 
“Sounds familiar.” You noted, smiling softly at the shy grin on your wife’s face. "She's just like you."
“Yeah.” She agreed. “Thank you, amor.” 
Whether she was thanking you for Mila, or also reminiscing on her old stubborn self, you didn’t know. You just kissed her temple, happy to have given it all to her. 
“I love you.” You told her. 
“I love you too.” She whispered back. 
“Me?” Mila piped up, sniffling as she sat up and looked at the two of you expectantly. You and Alexia both laughed, your wife pulling Mila back down to lay against her. 
“Of course you, too, silly.” You said. 
“We love you the most.” Alexia promised. 
this has been in my drafts for. at least 3 months. maybe more. hope you enjoy :)
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gguk-n · 3 days
Note
if you still take requests would you like to write an oscar x reader where they got to know by a coincident and the reader knows absolutely nothing abt f1 and also not oscar so when he was like I drive for f1 she was like wtf should I do with that information??
She doesn’t like cars
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{Reader’s POV}
I met Oscar at a grocery store after I had moved to Monaco. The company I worked at were establishing a new branch here and wanted me to help smooth out the process. Who was I to say no to an opportunity of a life time? But being away from friends and family got very difficult when you enjoy being around people.
I only got the weekend off; so I had to make the best of the situation. I was grabbing milk at the grocery store when another hand grabbed the same carton. I looked at the tall, handsome man next to me; “I grabbed that first” I said. “Sorry” he quietly apologised and moved on. We kept running into each other in different isles and the more I stared at him and his toned thighs I found myself drooling. Well, it’s not everyday an attractive man keeps running into you. So, I did what any rational single woman would do and asked him out. To my surprise, he said yes. I doubt myself too much sometimes, I had thought.
We started going out on dates and spending time together. He was rich and had a pretty decent apartment he owned, from what I gathered. He must make quite a decent amount or he comes from money since he’s constantly away on what I assume are business trips over the weekends every few weeks. Did I ask what he did? No. Did he ask what I did? Not particularly. But I did give him my business card.
We were cuddling on one of these days while Oscar was raking his fingers through my hair; “You always help me feel normal” he whispered. “You make me feel rich” I giggled. “What’s mine’s yours babe” he retorted. “Sure, darling” I muttered. “I’ll be gone over the weekend, again” he said stopping his hand movement. “Again? Don’t you think your boss hates you or something with how much they make you go on trips or maybe they love you” I voiced my concern. Oscar laughed a deep laugh which sent vibrations through my body. “Baby, I know this year’s schedule has been a little more hectic with more races” he lamented. “What races?” I asked. “Formula One races” he replied quizzically. “What’s that?” I asked narrowing my eyes. “You don’t know?” He questioned. “Don’t make me feel stupid for not knowing” I whined.
Oscar sighed before speaking, “so, what you’re saying is all this time you had no clue that I was a Formula One driver?” he asked. “Do you test cars or something. I thought they had dummies for that” I quizzed. Oscar was now sat up an amused expression on his face. “No baby, I drive for McLaren” he explained. “Good for you?” I said slowly, I didn’t want him to feel bad about his job or the fact that I knew nothing about it. But since when did they pay test drivers so much?
Oscar started laughing, “that’s it. Take the weekend off. We’re going to Singapore” he announced. “Not this suddenly” I said. “It’s next week. We’ll fly together. Can’t have my girlfriend not knowing what I do for work” he announced kissing my lips.
My interest was piqued so I ended up googling Formula One. My jaw was on the floor when I realised that Oscar was one of the twenty drivers; he was crème de la crème when it came to motor sport. We’d been dating for a while and I knew nothing about what he did, no wonder he owned a place in Monaco; I couldn’t help but laugh. But in my defence my country isn’t huge on motor sports, so I’m sure Oscar can forgive me.
“You didn’t tell me you won 2 races” I announced after finishing dinner that day. “Oh! Did you google me?” He asked. “Nope, I google formula one and you were on top of the list for the previous race. Then I googled you” I explained. Oscar nodded. I sat down on Oscar’s lap, facing him. “Can’t believe you make so much money and let me pay for our meals” I said shaking my head. “That was one time and you insisted” Oscar explained. “Still” I whined. “Can’t wait to watch you win, people say you are really good” I smirked. “Yeah” he said. “Cocky much.” I laughed. “Maybe you can show me how good you are, now” I winked. “I can show you how good I am in everything” he smirked. “I love you, race winner Oscar Piastri” I said kissing him. “Love the ring of it. Gonna have to win more now” he whispered. “Can’t wait to watch you” I mumbled pulling him in for another kiss
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reidrum · 15 hours
Text
how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things | s.r.
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A/N: this is literally prn with no plot i’m sorry. i just really love thinking about spencer on his knees sue me! this was supposed to be longer but then i decided to save it for when i write for juno heheh
cw: smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spencer AND munch!spencer look at that a 2-for-1!, fingering fem receiving, brief condescending!spence if you blink, many many pet names, spencer says good girl that’s a warning on its own, afab!reader
summary: you and spencer come home from a night out and he knows exactly what to say to get you wrapped around his finger (literally!)
wc: 1.4k
_______________________________________________
You stumble through the door with Spencer trailing not too far behind you. You’d both been out with the team getting drinks and as the night progressed Spencer found himself getting especially touchy with you, so much that you could still feel the imprint of his hand on your inner thigh.
The drinks of the night had long faded leaving you in a haze as you both entered your apartment, Spencer’s solid frame coming up behind you to hold your waist.
“Good thing I’m here to make sure you don’t fall.” He chuckles softly.
He slowly turns you around and gently pushes you against the wall. You give him a lazy smile as your hand reaches up to trace the outline of his jaw, “You’re pretty.”
“If I’m pretty, what does that make you?”
“Lucky.”
Spencer blushes and smiles softly, “That was good,” He bends down to press a kiss to the spot behind your ear, slowly trailing down to the sweet spot at the base of your neck. His fingers press into the sides of your hips, “You okay? Still feeling it?”
You shake your head no pointedly, “Just fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy is good,” He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, “You’re nicer when you’re fuzzy.”
“I’m nice all the time!” You feign offense.
He chuckles back, “Okay, you are nice all the time. I think I meant more…compliant.”
You grin up at him, “What, you don’t like me in control?”
“No I do, trust me, I do. But, you deserve to be taken care of. And I really like it when I get to take care of you. It’s easier for me to do that when you’re all…fuzzy.”
Another lazy smiles adorns you and Spencer can’t help but lean in and kiss your nose.
“Well, we aren’t doing anything until these devil shoes come off.” You mutter softly.
Spencer laughs and kisses you one last time before smoothing his hands down your side as he sinks to his knees, gesturing you to lift your foot up and perch it on his shoulder, allowing perfect access to your heel.
You lean back against the wall attempting to flatten your back to ease the aching of it. Through hooded eyes you look down to meet Spencer’s hazel ones staring right back at yours, as his fingers ghost over the straps of your heels.
“Feet hurt?” He asks as he presses the pads of his fingers into the flesh of your calf, gently massaging the skin as he works his way down the buckle of your heel.
“In these? Always.” You laugh back.
“Oh, poor baby.” He mumbles back with a pout, leaning forward to kiss the base of your ankle. Your eyes widen slightly in entice as you watch him leave kisses up your leg, hands following their path and caressing the skin it touches. He gently places your bare foot on the ground and picks up the other heeled one, placing it on his shoulder and repeating the same motions.
The intimacy of the moment strikes you as you watch his long fingers toy with the buckles and straps of your heels before sliding them off. Your hand subconsciously reaches for his hair and cards through it gently, pushing it away from his eyes.
“Hi.” you whisper.
He looks up to meet your gaze, “Hi, honey.”
“You look pretty down there.”
A chuckle escapes him, “Do I?”
You nod, “Are you going to stay down there or…?”
His fingers dance around your calves slowly inching upwards, “What do you want me to do?”
Humming softly at the touch, you lean your head back against the wall, “I want…whatever you want.”
Spencer laughs again, “See? My compliant, pretty girl.” His fingers reach the hem of your dress, slowly inching further up, “I think I’ll stay down here for a little bit…if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, that’s o—okay.” Your breath hitches as he toys with the outer edges of your panties. His fingers trace the outline out to in, just missing contact with where you want him.
You whine softly as he continues to evade the one spot you need him, squirming against the wall for any friction you can find. He lightly chastises you, “So needy…you’re acting like you haven’t been touched in weeks.”
“Spence…”
He hums, “But that’s not true, right?” One finger strokes the front of your panties, tracing a path from the wet patch up to your clothed clit.
“N—No.” You half moan.
His finger lays more pressure, “I take really good care of you, right angel?”
A curse slips from you as he strokes you over your panties.
Spencer smirks as he hooks his index fingers on either side of your panties and slowly starts to drag it down, not missing how the fabric sticks to your slick like honey. “You know why, I take such good care of you?”
You’re too caught up in the anticipation to respond, but that’s not enough for Spencer when he stops his motions and taps your leg, “I asked you a question.”
You look down at him and shake your head exasperatedly, hoping the silent answer was enough for him to continue since you’re nearly on the ledge from the way his hands are moving.
His finger trails back up your leg and ghosts over your exposed cunt, teasing you endlessly, “I take care of you…because you’re a good girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Spencer…please…” You’re not sure how much longer you can take this, your body squirming for any contact.
“Say it.” He pulls back so he can look you directly in the eyes, a single digit sliding through your folds.
“Jesus, fuck,” you let out breathlessly, “Okay, okay I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl, just please…” You can’t even bring yourself to care at how desperate you sound, you would start begging like a sinner in church if he didn’t do anything soon.
He smirks, “That’s my girl,” he taps your thigh, “Over my shoulder.” You quickly abide and raise your leg over his shoulder and rest your thigh on it. Spencer leans in and dives into your folds like a man starved, your hands moving to tangle in his hair and in an effort to stabilize yourself. His tongue motions like he’s making a painting and you definitely think you deserve to be hung in the Louvre after this.
You feel him add a finger in and you’re a goner.
“Spence…I’m—fuck oh my god, please don’t stop.” You whine.
His lips detach from you while he adds another fingers and continues his motions and he mumbles, “You gonna come for me, angel? Been like, what a few minutes and you’re already about to make a mess on my fingers…so needy.” he teases.
He returns back to your core, licking long and thick stripes up and down, his fingers not slowing down as he brings you closer to the edge. The peak begins to build in your gut and the climax overtakes you, a mixture of expletives and Spencer’s name leaving your mouth like a twisted spell.
You release your death grip on his hair as he sits back to catch his breath. You slump down the wall to sit in front of him, your leg still swung over his shoulder. He smiles fondly at you and holds the ankle next to his head, leaning in to press a kiss, “You okay, baby?”
“Mhm…” You hazily say, “Peachy, even.”
His eyes narrow slightly, “…Because they’re fuzzy?” you giggle and nod feeling super proud of your pun. He can’t help but laugh with endearment with you as he gently helps your leg off his shoulder and places it on the ground before standing up himself and reaching his hands out for you to grab it, “Let’s go to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”
You place your hands in his and allow him to pull you up, once you’re on your feet you register his words, “Wait, huh?”
He slowly spins you around so his chest is to your back and starts guiding you down the hallway, “Oh baby, did you think we were stopping at one?” he whispers sultrily in your ear. A shudder runs down your spine and he laughs feeling you shake in his arms.
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catssluvr · 3 days
Text
𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒆, aaron hotchner
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aaron hotchner x fem!reader (916 words)
in which you end up with an injured nose at girl’s night and aaron takes care of you
warnings: bloody nose (surprise), r is tipsy, sweet aaron again 🫶🏻
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹
This is probably the last way you would have imagined your day to end up like. This being sitting in the passenger seat of Hotch's car with an ice pack against your very much painful bloody nose.
It's funny to think that working in the fbi wasn't what gave you an injurie but falling against Emily's coffee table sure was. It was definitely quite a fight between you, one of Sergio's toys on the floor and the corner of the table. You just didn't happen to win it, leaving your nose bruised and bloody.
You felt utterly embarrassed for having to call him to pick you up, but you couldn't drive after two cups of wine and didn't want to ruin girl's night. You're sure there's better things for him to do on his day off, specially at midnight.
Though he doesn't seem bothered by it the slightest, his hand resting on your thigh for the whole ride home and stealing worried glances at you once in a while.
"You okay?" He asks once he opens the door, helping you out of your seatbelt.
You're quiet and that worries him. He knows pretty well you're not one to be quite when alcohol is running in your system.
"Mhm. Sorry for this, again." It's probably your fourth apology tonight and he doesn't like that one bit.
"Stop saying sorry." His tone is almost stern but you can feel the affection sweeping through it. "I missed you today, was glad you called." He's too sweet even when you're sure you ripped him out of bed, his crooked quarter zip that's thrown over his sleeping shirt proving you right.
You smile softly at him, regretting it immediately as your nose stings.
Aaron hushes you inside the house, immediately leading you to the bathroom and sitting you on the counter.
He rummages through the cabinets for a moment, pulling out a few cottons and other things you're too dozy too look properly at.
"Oh, sweet girl..." It's only now that he takes the ice pack from your nose that he realizes how painful it must be. There's dried blood right outside your nostrils and the bridge of your nose look another shade.
"That bad, uh?" You mock, holding back a chuckle at his reprehending stare.
Aaron starts cleaning your nose with a wet cotton, mumbling out gentle sorries when you hiss in pain.
You take the time to look at him through half closed eyes. His dishevelled hair, his concentrated expression and most of all his quarter zip paired with stripped pyjama pants. It makes you feel both giddy and guilty that he probably came running to get you once you called.
"You're pretty." You say it before getting to actually think about it. But the fact that you're still tipsy helps you say things shamelessly.
"Thank you, honey. You're very pretty too." He answers with a smile bigger than he intended, just happy that you're finally acting like you normally would while tipsy.
Once the blood is cleaned and the arnica is applied, he reaches for the small band aid box. They all have some kind of cartoon in them, Jack's influence.
"Which one?" He questions with fake seriousness, displaying all the different band aids.
You point to the spider-man themed one, probably Jack's influence as well.
"Very good choice." Aaron pulls it open, carefully applying it over the small cut on the bridge of your nose before pressing a tiny kiss there.
He tells you to wait for a moment before dissapearing into the bedroom, coming back a few seconds later with a large hoodie and one pair of stripped pyjama pants - both his.
You let out a relaxed sigh once you're in them, his scent comforting and similar to what you would call home.
"Gimme a kiss?" You mumble nasally, a chuckle bubbling out of him at the way it sounds more like 'kith'.
"I'll hurt your nose."
"No, it'll heal magically from your kiss." You do little in trying to persuade him, but it's more than enough for him.
Aaron tucks a few strands of hair behind your ears, cupping your warm cheeks and leaning in to place a gentle peck on your lips.
"Better, sweet girl?" It's not really a question, as he knows the answer. His lips trail from your cheek to your temple, lingering there for a moment before pulling to hold your face once more.
"Mhm, much better." You lean into his hands almost involuntarily.
His hands reach under your thighs, picking you up before you can even process it. You let out a surprised gasp, smacking his chest lightly when he laughs.
"You know, my nose is hurt. Not my legs, Aaron." You mumble against his neck, smiling at the way he shivers at the contact.
"Just let me spoil you, yeah?" He shushes you, arms comfortable around you as he enters the bedroom.
Once you're tucked inside the blankets in his so familiar bed, Aaron pulls out his quarter zip. Throwing it on top of the armchair in the corner before rushing to lay beside you.
Almost immediately, your arms find place around his waist. Your fingers trace incoherent shapes on his stomach and your head lays against his chest, his heartbeat lulling you to a sleepy state almost immediately.
"Thank you." It's barely a whisper, but he hears it just fine.
He hums, squeezing his arms around you before pressing a kiss to your hair one last time. "My sweet girl."
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹
love you,
cat 🤍
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kazuhaiku · 2 days
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ᡣ𐭩 unpredicted date
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-> synopsis: in which mualani sets up an unpredicted date between you and kinich which leads to silly moments between the two of you.
-> warnings: mildly inspired by that one kimi ni todoke episode, fluff, gender neutral reader, silly kinich, modern!au + tags @ryescapades @lunaritex
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You swear you’re going to kill (not literally) Mualani when you see her again.
When she asked you to go out on a girl's night out today, you didn’t expect to see Kinich be the one waiting in front of the aquarium instead of Kachina and Mualani.
Mualani… You sigh, then your phone beeps, signaling a message.
Speak of the devil, Mualani is the one who messaged you, simply sending you a 
mualani have fun with kinich today! you’ll thank me later, promise :3
“Y/N,” Kinich calls out your name, snapping you out of your daze. You manage to give him a small smile as you walk towards him. “Mualani told me that you guys were hanging out today and she invited me to come along but it has been fifteen minutes and she hasn’t arrived yet.”
“I wonder why…” you grit your teeth, and before you can say anything else, Kinich’s phone rings. “Is that her?” you ask, but you already know the answer anyway.
Kinich nods. “Should I put it on speaker mode?” you agree and he clicks the speaker button. “Hello?”
“KInich! I am terribly sorry but I can’t make it to today’s hangout,” Mualani fakes a cough (which sounds too fake, mind you). “Me and Kachina caught a sudden cold-” you can hear Kachina protest in the background before her voice muffles, probably Mualani covering her mouth. “Have fun with Y/N today, yeah? And take lots of pictures.” Mualani ends the call before Kinich can get another word in. He stares at his phone before putting it back into his pocket.
“Well…” Kinich reaches into his other pocket and fishes out two tickets. “Guess that’s why she asked me to hold on to these yesterday.”
“Yesterday?!” you choke on your spit. “Well she’s prepared for the worse…”
“That’s Mualani for you,” Kinich replies. “Let’s go then. We might be lucky and grab the limited edition items in the story.”
You gasp. “How’d you know they are available today?! That’s why I suggested to Mualani that we go early yesterday!”
“I searched them up,” Kinich says. “I thought you would have liked it and I was right.”
You freeze in your tracks. He was thinking about me? The limited items remind him of me? Holy shit-
“Y/N?” Kinich waves a hand in front of your face. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah!” you shake your head. “Let’s go inside.” 
The aquarium itself is beautiful, filled with different kinds of fish some of which you recognize and some you don’t. You and Kinich don’t talk to each other up until you find a small fish that piques your interest.
“Kinich!” you grab his arm and pull him in the direction of where the fishes are located. You gasp in awe, seeing their beautiful colors. “Look! Look how pretty they are.”
Kinich sees the sign next to the aquarium. “Betta fish.”
“Oh, is that what it’s called?” you ask, eyes still trained on the fishes swimming around. “They’re beautiful…”
Your eyes sparkle as you stare at the fish. Unbeknownst to you, Kinich wasn’t even looking at the fish. He is looking at you. You, who is completely fascinated by the small fish swimming around the small aquarium. You, who has the brightest smile he has ever seen. A smile appears on Kinich’s face before he clears his throat and looks away, a tint of red appearing on his cheeks.
“Sorry, Kinich!” you apologize, though he doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for. “Are there any other things you want to look at?” you turn to look at him only to see him staring at an empty corner. “Kinich..? You okay?”
“Yeah,” Kinich murmurs. “Wanna go get the limited items?”
“You’re right!” you exclaim and once again take his hand in yours. “Come on! We have to hurry!”
The merchandise store is empty when you arrive, which means that the limited items aren’t sold out yet.
“Excuse me! We’re here for the limited items you guys sell!” you exclaim, almost out of breath.
“You’re just in time! This is the first time we’re releasing a limited item for couples!” the employee responds, bringing up two small octopus plushies. “Here we are. Two octopus plushies for the lovely couple.”
You choke on your spit. “W-Wait we’re not-”
“Thank you.” Kinich takes the plushies from the employee without denying their words. “Here.” Kinich hands you the cuter-looking one, and you accept it almost hesitantly. The employee bows as you leave the store.
You keep quiet as soon as you reach the exit and Kinich notices. “You okay? Why are you being so quiet?”
“Um… You heard what the employee said before, right?” you ask and Kinich nods. “Weren’t you going to deny her words..?”
“Was it uncomfortable for you?” Kinich asks.
“No, no! It was just unexpected. I thought you were going to deny it immediately.” you hold the octopus closer to you. “It just shocked me a bit. But on a serious note, thank you for hanging out with me today, Kinich.”
“It’s my pleasure. I like going out with you and um,” Kinich looks away. “We can do this again if you want to… Just the two of us.”
Your eyes brightened. “Really?” he nods. “Okay! I promise I’ll come ask you to go out with me some other time.”
“Okay,” Kinich replies. “Let me walk you home?”
Knowing Kinich’s slightly stubborn attitude, you accept his proposal. The walk back home is filled with silence, but you can’t ask for anything better.
(Mualani later sent a picture she took of you and Kinich in the aquarium. Kinich was looking at you with the cutest smile on his face as you are focused on the Betta fishes).
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days
Text
Injured (Alba's Version) IV
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: The aftermath
*TW: parental neglect, aftermath of suicide*
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It takes Alexia nearly a week until she realises you're missing.
You're self-sufficient and independent. You've never needed much and it's not weird for Alexia to not see you for days on end.
You come home from whatever you spend your days doing and go straight to your room.
You make your own meals, she's pretty sure because she never has to make extra. Just enough for a family of three. Two when Olga is away from work.
It's a fleeting thing really, the only way that she realises you've disappeared.
She knocks on your door, intent on finally having that conversation about what you're planning on doing with your future.
There's no answer.
"Now's not the time to sulk, y/n," She calls through the door," If you don't come out then I'm coming in!"
Still silence.
"One! Two!"
Alexia doesn't wait for three, shoving open the door.
She expects to see you on your bed, sulking or whatever it is you do when she's not around.
You're not there though.
Your bed is made. Your clothes are packed away.
There's nothing out of place. Nothing to prove that this room was even really yours apart from a few neat stacks of paper on your desk.
Alexa glances over them, frowning as if they'd give her the answer to where you've gone.
She's been home since last night, the first one up and awake in the house. There's no way you could have snuck past her.
"Jaume!" She yells out," Where's your sister?"
"I don't know! Out with friends or something?"
That's odd.
Alexia can't remember the last time you mentioned a friend to her. To be honest, Alexia can't remember the last time the two of you actually had a conversation.
She shuffles through the papers on your desk.
Yes, she thinks, you must be with friends because there's three tickets to a ballet performance on Saturday.
You must be wanting to take them with you.
It's only when Alexia sits up that night, waiting for you to come home, that she gets the sinking feeling you're not coming back.
She waits for hours until the early hours of the next morning and the sun begins to rise before panic lances through her chest.
You've not come home.
She checks her phone, wondering if she missed a text saying you would stay at a friend's house but there's nothing.
She checks your room, just to see if you've climbed in through the windows but they're locked.
You are nowhere.
She pulls Jaume out of school for the day. She calls Olga to come home from Madrid.
She scours all of the places she thinks you hang out but you're nowhere to be seen.
It's almost like you've never existed in the first place.
The call comes in the evening.
It's Alba.
"I can't talk right now," Alexia says after two missed calls," I'm-"
"I'm sorry," Alba says instead.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." Alba chokes her words out like they're so physically painful she can barely say them. Like she's so numb that even talking is difficult. "I tried but..."
"Alba? What's happened? Listen, I really can't talk right now. I'm-"
"I really did try. They did too but it was already too late."
"Alba, what is going on?"
"We should go to the hospital," Alba says," I'll send you which one."
In the deepest pit of her chest, Alexia already knows what has happened. In some deep, dark part of her, she's known since Alba called. In the worst, most hidden piece of herself, Alexia has known since the beginning.
It's an awful thing for an aunt to see.
It's a terrible thing for a brother to see.
It's even worse for a mother to see.
A picture goes up at the ballet company.
(Alexia didn't even know you joined one).
It's of you smiling, the headhsot that they used on the website, displayed proudly in the main foyer.
'Rest In Peace' sits under it and a little plaque with your name and how long you lived. It states your interests with no hint about trains at all. It talks about your reserved disposition but mentions how you endeared yourself to everyone.
Flowers sit under it, bouquets upon bouquets from the dancers and the staff and audience members who have seen you perform.
(Alexia has never been to a performance once).
Support pours in from people Alexia hasn't spoken to in years. Old coaches. Old teammates. Old friends.
Everyone seems to have a fond memory of you but all Alexia can think about is the last words she said to you.
She can't remember them.
She can't remember what she said or how she felt or what she was doing.
There is a gap in her memory from that moment.
Everyone talks about you so fondly, with such clarity that Alexia can't replicate.
You have gone on a wisp of breeze and Alexia is left trying to catch the impossible.
Her mind circles around herself, trying to work out where this all went wrong.
She loved you. She loved you so much.
Her beautiful baby girl who was a little nervous and a little quiet but beautiful all the same.
The little girl who loved trains and ballet and doing all the super feminine stuff that Alexia had to learn when she was a bit older.
The people around her tell stories of you, like Ingrid talking about how you used to love having her braid your hair back but Alexia sits there numb.
She's been numb since she saw your body in the hospital morgue.
She's been numb since the funeral where you lay in your coffin, perfectly peaceful like you were taking a long sleep.
She's been numb since they all returned to Eli's house for food and drink to celebrate your life.
Alba is not talking to her, has not talked to her outside what is needed since she called.
Alexia hasn't even noticed, too preoccupied with the realisation that she's a mother that just had to bury her daughter.
It was not a disease that took you. It was not a heart attack. It was not a random attack on the street.
It was you.
You made this decision, decided that this world was not worth living in anymore. That you could no longer cope with everything happening around you.
Things that Alexia has no knowledge on and, now, will never have any knowledge on.
You thought that this path was better than returning home.
You thought that everything would be better, more peaceful if you took your life away.
People have been cautious around Alexia, seeing just how close she is to tears.
She didn't cry during the funeral when you were lowered down into the ground with nothing but a neat blouse and a skirt.
Nothing to take with you now that you're gone.
Olga had to pack your things away in your room because Alexia could not force herself to even step through the doorway.
Your things are gone.
You are gone.
And Alexia will never know why.
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ghostsangel · 2 days
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“oh, wouldn't that be lovely? you would torture me. whisper me the reasons that you hated me. say it in the way that makes my knees go weak, and let me dangle from you like a piece of meat.”
simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader
tags/warnings: mdni, enemies to somewhat lovers, simon legit hates us, shooting/bullet wounds, filthy ass smut, hatefucking, choking, squirting, meaaaan simon
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The mission was starting off great.
First, Price had paired you with Ghost. That pissed you off more than anything considering the fact that Price knows you and Ghost don’t get along. The large, silent man doesn’t trust you on missions because you’re the newest member of the 141. He doesn’t listen to your input, just outlines the plan himself and expects you to follow.
The mission was pretty simple. Navigate through a series of warehouses and find the tiny USB drive that held intel the 141 needed. That all went to shit when Ghost didn’t listen to you and you ended up getting shot.
You throw your head back against the wall, groaning in pain as you clutch your arm. Ghost pushed you into an abandoned room, and you sink to the ground, eyes shut.
The wound isn’t bad—through and through, upper arm. You exhale shakily through the pain, glancing up at Ghost who is standing there looking down at you.
“Are you gonna stand there all fucking day or are you gonna help me wrap this?” You hiss at him, dragging your pack toward you to look for alcohol wipes and bandages.
Ghost says nothing, but he crouches down next to you, gun by his side. He grips your arm and assesses the wound, tilting his head as his eyes take in every detail.
“Through and through,” he grunts, taking the alcohol wipe from you. He tears it open and runs it along the wound, cleaning the blood and you shut your eyes.
“Fuck,” you groan, head tilting back as he works.
“Sorry,” he grumbles. That surprises you—he never apologizes.
You don’t respond, just let him spread antibiotic ointment over the wound before packing and wrapping it. You swallow down the pained groan in your throat and stand up, placing your pack back on your back.
You’re silent, not wanting to talk to him. You’re too pissed off. He got you shot, and all you want to do is go back to base and debrief with Price. You draw your gun and open the door, Ghost moving behind you.
He takes the lead as you move through the warehouse, taking down target after target. Eventually, you find the USB with the intel, and you and Ghost silently leave the warehouse and head to the rendezvous point.
You don’t even react when you get onto the heli, Ghost sitting across from you. Your arm aches and your head is pounding, and all you wanna do is deck Ghost in the fucking face.
Before the debrief, you head to the med bay where they stitch up your wound. It’s painful, but it eventually feels much better after being stitched up. Sighing, you head to Price’s office, finding Ghost already inside.
Price’s eyes flick to your arm. “Lieutenant Riley was just explaining what happened.”
“Yeah? He explained that he got me shot?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at Ghost.
“I didn’t get you shot.” His voice is gruff and blunt, eyes flicking to yours behind the mask.
“The fuck you didn’t.” Rage boils beneath your skin, and your nostrils flare. “You didn’t listen to me when I warned you, and it ended with me having a bullet shot through my arm.”
Price holds up his hands, silencing you and Ghost. “Look, you two can work this shit out another time. Lieutenant, did you get the intel?”
You pull the USB from your vest pocket. “I got it.”
Price takes it from you and nods. “You two are dismissed.”
You nod, saluting him before glaring daggers at Ghost and walking to your quarters. You’re sweaty and gross and desperately need to shower.
You shower quickly, rinsing off the dirt and grime from the day, thinking about Ghost. That man annoys the shit out of you, but you admit that he’s attractive in a weird, masked sort of way. The annoyance and hate outweigh the fleeting feeling, though, and you grumble to yourself as you get out of the shower and dress.
You head to the canteen, absolutely starving, running right into Ghost. You take a step back from his large frame, his head tilting down to look at you.
“How’s the arm?” He asks, his gaze flicking to the freshly wrapped bandage.
“Fine.” You look up at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Thanks for today, really. Absolutely adore getting shot.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” he says, and you swear he laughs.
“Okay, Ghost. Sure. Believe what you want.”
Ghost’s eyes narrow and you find yourself suddenly backed up against your door, his forearm pressed against your throat.
“Anyone ever told you that you act like a twat sometimes?” He asks. His eyes bore into yours, and you look back at him unflinchingly.
“Anyone ever told you that?” You retort, a small smirk playing on your lips.
Ghost chuckles and tugs his mask up. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in, lips brushing your ear.
“You’re stubborn, don’t follow orders, boss me around…” His teeth graze your earlobe and a shiver runs up your spine. “Your attitude pisses me off and I fuckin’ hate how you act.”
You gasp quietly as you feel a hardness pressed against your stomach, and you push his head back so you can look into his eyes.
“So why are you so hard, then?” You ask, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Hm? You get so worked up just being around me?”
Ghost growls, forearm leaving your throat. Your body is pushed through your now open door, Ghost slamming it shut behind him. He grips your throat, tugging you to him.
“I’m hard ‘cause I think about fuckin’ you till you learn how to not be such a stubborn, bossy insubordinate.” He squeezes the sides of your throat, drawing a soft moan from your lips.
You can’t help it—it’s hot. The throbbing between your legs attests to that. Heat flutters in your belly, and your hands run down his shirt and underneath, digging your nails into his flesh and scratching down his stomach.
He lets out a groan, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You grin, teeth and all, nails still digging into the skin of his belly.
“Go on, then. See if you can try.” Your words are dangerous, but you want him.
Ghost tugs the mask up and off his face, and you barely have time to admire his scarred skin before his lips are on yours, hungry and angry. The kiss isn’t sweet—far from it. Teeth clash together, tongues sliding against one another. His hand grips your throat as he keeps you pressed against him, other hand snaking its way down to your ass.
You twist your fingers into his hair, giving it a sharp tug. Ghost lets out a groan as his head tilts back, and you graze his neck with your teeth, nipping at the skin harshly.
“Fuck,” he grunts, hands moving to grip your hips.
“You like pain, don’t you?” You mutter into his neck, sinking your teeth into the skin.
Ghost responds by pressing his hips against yours, his cock twitching in his pants. You grin against his neck, and he shoves you back until your legs hit the bed. You fall backward, Ghost working at your clothes. His eyes graze over your naked body, tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, hands running up your thighs. He spreads your legs, his middle and ring fingers spreading your arousal up your slit until he gets to your clit.
You lean your head back, moaning softly at the feeling of his rough fingers on your clit. You jolt as a sharp slap stings your sensitive nub, head snapping back up to look at Ghost.
“Eyes on me.”
You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “Sure, Lieutenant.”
Ghost growls softly, one hand moving to your neck as he hovers over you. His two fingers push inside you, relentless and unforgiving. He stares into your eyes as he fingers you, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you that sends an electric jolt down your spine.
“Such a fuckin’ brat,” he mutters, gripping your neck tightly.
Your heart flutters, and you gasp as he stretches out your tight cunt. It’s been so long since anyone’s touched you this way—you’re already falling apart. Ghost smirks at you, and your eyes rake down his face, admiring each scar that litters his skin.
“Ghost,” you whine, bucking your hips up. You feel lightheaded, no doubt from his grip on your throat. “Gonna come—fuck!”
He nods, his fingers pulsing against that sweet spot over and over, his hand moving from your neck to press on your lower stomach.
“Gonna come already?” He asks, his tone slightly mocking. “Fuckin’ pathetic. Barely even touched you.”
You whine, your hand moving to grip his neck. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, a moan slipping past his lips. You grin for a split second before your mouth opens and you groan, back arching.
“Go on, little brat. Feel you clenchin’ so tight around me. Gimme what I want.” His voice is gruff and rough, his fingers relentless as they find a home inside your gummy walls.
You cry out as you come, juices squirting onto his hand and down his wrist. He chuckles as you throb around him, eyes never leaving your face. His fingers slow, eventually pulling out of you with a little pop, and he brings them to his mouth, licking them clean and groaning at the taste.
Ghost stands, and you watch him as you pant, legs trembling from your orgasm. He strips, his cock hanging heavy when he pulls down his underwear. He pulls you to the end of the bed, gripping your hair and guiding you onto the floor until your knees thud against it.
“Open,” he says, forcing you to look up at him.
You obey—how can you not? Ghost strokes his cock before sliding it inside your warm, wet mouth. You take him eagerly, sucking and licking his shaft. He lets out a soft moan at the feeling, forcing your head down until your nose brushes his pelvis. You swallow around him, tears pricking your eyes as he just holds you there.
“Swallowin’ my cock like such a good little whore,” he says, looking down at you. His hips thrust forward, pushing him further down your throat and you thank God you don’t have a gag reflex.
He face fucks you slowly at first—lazy thrusts that have you moaning around his cock. Then, he picks up speed, and it’s not long before tears are mixing with the drool running down your chin. Ghost’s moans are heavenly, and the look in his half-lidded eyes make you squeeze your thighs together.
He pulls his cock out after a few minutes, tugging you up by your hair. He wipes his thumb under your eyes and uses his discarded shirt to wipe your mouth before he kisses you, picking you up and holding you against him.
His fat cock runs against your dripping cunt, and you whine into his mouth and grind down against him. He chuckles against your lips, breaking the kiss and opening his eyes.
“Needy little whore,” he whispers, and then he’s sliding his cock inside you.
The stretch is intense, and you let out a garbled whine as he sinks into you. Your back hits the bed, Ghost holding your thighs to your chest as he watches his length disappear inside your warm, inviting cunt.
“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he groans, head hanging forward as he pushes his entire length inside you, tip nestled snugly against your cervix. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”
“Ghost, move,” you whine, bucking your hips up. “Need you to fuck me.”
“Oh, you wanna be good for me now?” He asks, drawing his hips back before slamming back inside you. “Gonna listen and be a good girl?”
You nod, and Ghost grins before beginning to fuck you hard and fast. His fat cock splits you open, leaky mushroom tip slamming against your cervix in the most deliciously painful way. He leans down, teeth biting into your neck as his hips move.
You feel like you can’t even breathe, your pussy clenching around him as his tip grazes your g-spot with each thrust. His teeth work at your neck, sucking and biting harshly, nails digging into your thighs.
“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock so well,” he whispers in your ear. “Gonna fill this cunt up, do you want that? Hm? Wanna be my little barrack’s bunny I get to breed?”
His words rip a moan from your throat, and you nod, nails dragging down his back. “Fuck, please. Please, Ghost, need it so bad. Gonna fucking come all over your cock, please let me come!”
His teeth nip and suck on the other side of your neck, his cock twitching inside of you. “Go on, bunny. Come for me.”
Your whole body trembles as you come, nails digging into his back so hard they draw blood. Ghost lets out a groan, face buried in your neck as his hips stutter and his cock throbs, emptying his load into your needy cunt. Your pussy throbs around him, milking him of every single drop of his cum.
He pants softly, warm breath hitting your sweaty skin. Blood drips down his back, and he plants soft kisses up your neck until he gets to your lips. The kiss is soft, unlike the ones before. He pulls back, forehead pressed against yours.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. “My good bunny.”
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nathaslosthershit · 2 days
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Some Bad, But a Whole Lot of Good (LS2)
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Summary: To the fans, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume the week after his replacement had been hell for newly dropped Logan Sargeant, but to the people who knew him, they weren't worried. Warning: James Vowles slander, a lot of it, I made Logan yell at him because I want to yell at him
Getting fired a week before your first child was born wasn't on anyone's bucket list. But here Logan was.
He was mad- no he was furious. Sure, the past few months with the team have been miserable, but this was the worst timing possible.
"Why now? Why not the two weeks we were off on break?" Logan asks yells. He doesn't lose his cool, at least not like this, not by yelling at his boss.
"Logan, you have to understand we are in between a rock and a hard place. I am truly sorry but it's a difficult time for us-" Vowles begins to explain.
"A difficult time for you? I am about to have a fucking baby, James. Next week! What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He got up and ran his hand through his hair. "You just had a baby a year ago, I would have thought you of all people would have thought this through more."
"Believe me, we have Logan, we have discussed this at length for a long time now."
"Oh fuck you! You have been thinking about this for a long time and choose now to do something about it? God, James, why do you hate me so much? I know I haven't met expectations, I know I have fucked up, but I still have given everything to this team and this is how you end it?" he finally met his boss'- ex boss' now, I guess, stare.
As Logan looked at his team principal, he tried to see any remorse or sincerity in his eyes but just as he had suspected, James' apology was bullshit, completely insincere. He knew this wasn't going anywhere, he didn't even know why he was fighting.
Formula 1 had been the dream for a while. Logan had let himself sacrifice everything he could to achieve it. He tried to tell himself that he had made it and that he was happy, but it wasn't true. He couldn't face the reality of the dream he worked so hard for not being everything he had imagined.
After meetings about contract termination and how they were to proceed, a sad little goodbye party filled with people that were probably thrilled to have him go, and an actually heartfelt apology and goodbye from his teammate and those he worked closely with, the American left the factory for the last time.
The most difficult part of this whole affair? Telling his very pregnant wife that he was now unemployed, a week until their first child's due date.
After tears, cursing a certain British boss' bloodline, and dissociative silence, Logan sat next to his wife as she suddenly burst into laughter.
He was stunned, she was practically doubling over, at least as much as she could in her current condition. The sight so ridiculous given the circumstances that he began to laugh too.
Several minutes were spent laughing until their stomachs hurt and then trying to catch their breath before either one of them could say another word.
"This is such terrible timing!" she said, wiping her eyes as she continued to giggle.
"Could not me a worse time" he replied as he started to laugh even harder.
"God, we shouldn't be laughing at this! We have officially lost our minds"
"Perfect timing too! Just like everything else"
It was ironic, this was the absolute worse scenario Logan could come up with but this was also the hardest he had laughed in a long time. When was the last time he actually laughed? The last time he actually felt joy about anything involving his job?
As if she could sense what he was thinking, she took a few deep breaths, finally calming down, as she said, "This is insane of me to say, but maybe this is a good thing?"
He knew where she was going, he thought the same, but he needed to hear her rationalize it before he agreed.
"I mean, honey, you were miserable. And I am sorry because I did love some of the people on your team but most of them were jackasses! It was such a time commitment and you have spent so long giving everything to them just for the team to spit in your face. Plus, with savings and such, we have enough to be fine for a while, even with the baby. You finally can put your family and yourself first"
She was right, it was time he admitted to himself how much he had hated his job in the past few months. How miserable it made him. How he could hardly enjoy anything in his life because he was always thinking of how to improve, how to show he still has potential even with the shitty car he was given.
"Im sorry. I- its not fair that I spent so long chasing a dead end dream that I couldn't actually enjoy what I do have. I mean, I could never race again and I would be 1000 times happier with out little family then I could ever be in F1. I will never not put you both first again." He said as he looked at her, held the bump, and genuinely got to relish in what was to come.
The first race weekend since Logan was replaced, he wasn't stewing in his misery, he was sitting in the hospital next to his wife, holding his first born, and the last thing on his mind was what was happening anywhere else in the world outside of the room his entire life was currently in.
logansargeant
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liked by alexalbon, jensonbutton, and others
logansargeant New job
user1 hey! so this is insane
user2 unemployment has never looked better
alexalbon This is a crazy way to hard launch fatherhood but good on you, mate!
logansargeant got to keep them guessing
user4 dilf era yes please
oscarpiastri how long is the contract?
logansargeant full time for 18 years, then after there is a bit more leeway, but there is certainly no retirement in my future
user3 replaced right before he had a BABY?! oh that British fuck better watch out
jensonbutton Such a big moment! So happy to see where life takes you, I know it will be great!
A/N: Had to finish this right after the news he is testing for indycar in november dropped!!! U-S-A U-S-A!
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luveline · 2 days
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What about sharing a bed with roommate James Potter after a nightmare? The comfort and yearning would be everything
He can hear your harsh breathing before he sees you. You raise your hand to knock his door and realise it’s open, but James is already up and walking toward you. 
“James–”
“What? What’s wrong?” He ducks his head a touch to meet your gaze. “Woah, seriously.” 
“I had a dream that somebody was in my room.” 
He cringes. You’ve grown to be more than roommates, and even if he didn’t consider himself your friend he wouldn’t like to see you panicking. “There’s nobody in there,” he promises, giving you half a hug. He looks over your shoulder just in case, and then steps back. “You want me to check?” 
“No… I don’t know, I don’t think there’s someone in there, just–” You choke on half a breath. “Sorry, it freaked me out.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” he says softly. It’s harder at night to be bubbly. Harder to conceal bone deep, gentle affection for you. “Come on, you can sleep with me tonight.” 
He encourages you with an arm deeper into the room, shoving his book aside to make room for you where he’d been laying. He shuffles across the bed. “You can turn off the lamp if you want, I don’t mind.” 
You climb into bed next to him. You don’t turn off the light. He’s surprised when you lay down in the pillow where his head was moments ago and turn away from the door, but he hides it and follows your lead. 
You’re almost nose to nose. 
“I can go check, if you want me to. It doesn’t bother me,” he says quietly. 
“I know it was just a dream.” 
“But it rattled you,” he says, looking up and down your face slowly, carefully. 
James will confess to himself that he finds you beautiful, will feel no shame as his gaze trips lazily over your lips, your nose, and your tired eyes. He doesn’t even feel bad when he gives in to temptation and holds your arm, though that’s less to do with liking you and more to do with the way you relax at his touch. 
“Can’t remember the last time I had such a bad dream,” you murmur. 
“It’s okay. Don’t worry, alright? I’m here, n’ I’m not about to let somebody come near you.” 
“I woke up and I didn’t even look to see if it was true. I wigged.”
“You wigged,” he repeats, smiling gently. 
“Completely.” 
“Well, you’re allowed to wig every once in a while.” He snorts at your word choice. “But it’s alright. I can put the telly on, if you want?” 
You shake your head, pushing across the bed to be closer to him. You tilt your face down, murmuring, “You can put it on. I won’t watch much of it.” 
“I don’t have to put it on,” he murmurs back, voice turned to loving silk, “I just want you to feel safe.” 
“I feel safe.” 
James is glad for your closed eyes. He smiles like a fool, how awesome to get to be that safety for you. “Okay,” he says, pulling the blankets up to both your chins, his hand dropping lazily over your shoulder, “I have you.” 
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kisses4reid · 2 days
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not our scene | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, - part 2
summary - an undercover mission causes realisations that otherwise would be squashed in denial
genre - fem!shy!reader x spencer, forced/wanted proximity, fake relationship -> real relationship, awkward idiots, fluff
warnings - awkwardness, mentions of trafficking and manipulation, realisations of love
w/c - 1.9k
a/n - second part!!! sorry for the cliffhanger that’s my favourite thing to do NOBODY COME AT ME. maybe third part/epilogue?? who knows. love y’all
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The instrumental music that poured from the live band on the elevated stage came to a close, you and Spencer hovering on the opposite side of the expansive floors, discreetly keeping an eye on two large kitchen doors. The room erupted in applause, which you joined into, for the band, the man you assumed to be the main musician stood and bent at the hips with a sly smile - he knew he was good. The room quieted down to a small chatter from the abundance of people that filled the room. Women with large hats, velvet gloves, and bright lips cornered tall men in grey suits (or the other way around) and laughed like they’d known each other for many years. Men with peppering beards whispered to each other before letting out howls and pointing towards women who were not their wives. The wives stood silent. 
Spencer cleared his throat, breaking you out of your trance, “He’s been in there for around 10 minutes now. I’m gonna call it in, in case they’ve already got the tracker on him.” You nodded with a tight lipped smile, still recovering from the rollercoaster of emotions that dancing with Spencer had put you through. He glanced at you once more before holding down a button on his cuff and speaking out loud. You nodded along, in case anyone was watching - and also as a kind of self-soothing motion. 
You didn’t drink - well, not often. So when a different waiter came up to you both every 10 minutes asking if you’d like a variety of alcohol, you had to kindly decline each time. And each time you became more irritated. People laughed loudly, people danced in quick blurs, people came up to you both and stared at your dress for a little too long. Thankfully, Spencer took your hand (you’re still in love after all) and nodded with a smile that almost made you forget you were on a mission. 
The two of you escaped onto a balcony with a cold breeze accompanying the faster music that both of you wanted to avoid. Your night was already over, just as it started. One dance. You scolded yourself for wanting more, a longer night, for Webley to continue manipulating people. But you’ve done your job, you’ve completed your mission, and now you have to go home and act like all of it never happened.
“Great job, the officers have been notified and we’ve got a tracker on him now. You two can leave whenever-“
“I think we’ll stay for a bit.” Spencer spoke up, and it shocked you. It must’ve shocked Morgan too as the line went dead quiet. “Right, Y/n?” He gulped and eyed you with pleads. His tie was slightly askew, the wind flapping his jacket lightly, his eyes reflecting the stars that now hung high in the sky. 
“Y-yeah. This party’s actually…” You looked over the over-crowded floor, to your red and sore feet, to the bad alcohol standing on the waiter's trays. But then you looked over to Spencer. His eyes, his hair, his small smile, his red tie. “The party’s actually not that bad.” You say with a smile.
“Okay… don’t stay for too long. We don’t want everyone to be hung over for a flight home tomorrow.”
The balcony was made of white concrete pillars and marble floors, sconces of warm lights and vines of ivy that wrapped around the pillars and balcony like waves of seaweed. It was beautiful, just like the rest of the establishment, it was unfortunate its main use was to take advantage of innocent people. But you weren’t out there to think about that - at least that’s what you assumed. Spencer wouldn’t want to stay to talk about trafficking or crimes surely. 
In that moment, even after watching his small smile of excitement that you agreed to stay with him, all you wanted to do was kick off your shoes and take a goddamn breath. 
You walked over to the parapet of the balcony and was glad to see the top was a flat slab of concrete, just wide enough for you to pull yourself up and sit down. 
You sighed in relief, taking off your heels and letting them fall onto the shiny marble. 
Spencer followed your movements, standing next to you and looking out onto the view. City lights and stars blended in with each other from this angle. 
“Are you okay?” He asked gently. You smile, “That’s the third time you’ve asked me tonight. Do I look troubled?” He stood for a moment before turning his head towards you, his hair sweeping across his eyebrows in the breeze. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” “Was it really that obvious?” “To me, yes… I think that if I didn’t pretend to enjoy tonight people would’ve been suspicious of us.” You frown slightly, “You didn’t enjoy the night?” “I didn’t enjoy the reason, nor the location. I enjoyed the people though.” He sends you a smile that makes your heart flutter and your cheeks redden. You hope he doesn’t see it in the dim lighting. 
Inside, the dance finishes and people clap, and you do too. Spencer glances at your hands and smirks slightly. “You don’t think they’re suspicious now? We danced once, and now we’re out here watching them like weirdos.” 
Spencer turned to lean on the balcony and look into the ballroom, shrugging. “We’re two young people in love,” he turned to look at you, eyes warm and deep, “alone time is what we need.” 
You bit the inside of your lip and stared at Spencer. His suit, his matching (skewed) tie, his hair and his eyes. He did the same to you, before gulping and looking down at the floor. He bent and picked up your shoes, turning them in his hands and observing. “These are too small for you.” You laugh at the obvious fact, “They’re JJ’s. She’s got the tiniest feet I’ve ever seen.” “You’re only one size above her.” “She wears high heels much more often than I do.” “You swap between sneakers and converse. You’ve only bought new shoes two times since I’ve known you. This is the second time I’ve seen you wear heels, and even then they were practically ballet shoes.” He smiled to himself like it was an inside joke. “Oh…” You looked down at your feet and realised he was exactly right, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your black converse right now.” “Morgan didn’t let me. He said he was pressured to make me look good by all the girls.” He lifted a finger and turned fully towards you, “Did you know that sleeve buttons on suits were created to help doctors who worked in the war keep their sleeves up? Now, they’re a sign of intelligence and wealth. Also, a few weeks ago, you called me a grabologist because of my collection of ties, but did you know that the largest collection of suit ties is owned by a New Zealander woman called Irene Sparks. Now, I think I’d like to oppose that not with my own collection, but with Morgans.”
You smile at the memories of the girls dressing you up, fueling the sisterhood that the childhood version of you missed out on. You thought about Morgan, Hotch and maybe Rossi, and how they were probably dressing him up as well. It was truly a found family, something that you felt you belonged to. They knew your habits, they knew when you were lying, they knew a good portion of your past. And you knew all the same for the rest of them. But Spencer? 
Mentally, without realising, you had been creating essays for him since the day you met him. You made journal entries for everyone else, but for Spencer it was books on books of mental notes and facts and aspects of him and his life that you kept in the back of your mind, ready at any point to bring out and use. Why he wears mismatched socks, why he likes purple, why he can’t handle too many people talking at once, why he feels uncomfortable at hospitals, why he hasn’t contacted his father in years. And he knew no doubt even more about you. He had a talent for knowing your emotions and feelings like no one else could, and it made your heart palpitate every time he did it.
“I mean, you’ve seen my collection of ties but jeez, you’d think a guy who mainly wears t-shirts would keep his collection small. You’d like one of his, it's a green that matches that bedside table you painted once. Like those socks you got me last Christmas. But anyways, he somehow had a perfect red to match your… dress. Which by the way, I noticed a lot of people looking at you - and I don’t blame them. I think you look, um, I think you look incredible.” His rambling quietened down for a moment as he tried to avoid eye-contact with you, before he cleared his throat and continued on with his rambling (which mixed with compliments every second sentence). 
And suddenly, you realised this was all an excuse. You were in denial, so badly, that you thought of him as a subject of your devotion without stepping back and seeing the real picture. 
“Spencer…” You cut him off and he looked up with big eyes, surprised you spoke up. You were the only person that let him ramble, it may have been the only time you stopped him. “Wh- You wanna go home?” He saw your eyes, you looked in pain, in shock, in… “No, Spencer, I… Um.” You pressed your lips together and looked down - were you really going to say this? Were you really going to admit you loved the man in front of you without any evidence that he felt the same way? He was your coworker, your best friend. Everything could be ruined in just a few words. Suddenly, you wanted to take your train of thoughts back, to let him continue on with his rambling - it always calmed you down anyways.
Suddenly, his palm was held out in front of you with a small mint in the middle. You looked up at him and his worried but genuine smile. “Here,” he said softly. You took the mint in your hand and simply stared at it. To be loved, is to be known. “Um, Spencer. I…” His eyes were wanting, curious, they were so goddamn beautiful, “I… I love you.” 
His mouth gaped slightly and his cheeks reddened. Spencer gulped and fiddled with his fingers before chuckling nervously, “I was supposed to say it first.” “What?” “I was supposed to say I love you first.” You hopped down from the concrete railing, dress falling to cover your shins again. “I can take it back if you want.” You responded quickly. “No, no don’t take it back, even if you did I don’t think I could mentally accept that you had taken it back.” You covered your mouth with your hand and looked up at him in shock, “So you-” “I love you, too.” He nodded and took your hands from your mouth, holding them in his, “I have since the third week you’ve worked with the BAU.” 
“Oh, that’s great um…” You looked down at your intertwined hands and furrowed your eyebrows, “What do we do now?” “We could go to the McDonalds that’s a 10 minutes walk away or, I could kiss you.” He stared into your glistening eyes and wanted to pinch himself to see if this was actually happening. “I don’t-”
“You don’t like McDonalds, sorry, my brain is-”
“Just kiss me.” You replied exasperated.
“Okay.” He nodded and placed his hands on your waist.
taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502
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d3stinyist1red · 3 days
Note
GIRLIE, YANDERE OLDER MAFIA BOSS!!(TAKE YOUR TIME IF YOU HAVE OTHER REQUESTSSSS!!💗)
ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ʙᴏss x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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yan mafia boss who you work under, with him being your boss and your his right hand woman
yan mafia boss who treats you like you own him, following with whatever you say
yan mafia boss who doesnt like any medics touching him, wanting you to be one treating him
The medic was standing in front of him, clearly fearful for her life bc the man in front of her could kill her if she did the slight mistake. She tried to pat and help the wounds of the Mafia boss who smacked her hand away and huffed.
"Bring me my n/n, now." He said glaring at her as she quickly nodded, basically running to you. She told you about how he refused to let her help and touch him as you sighed. You rubbed your temple before nodding and smiling at her.
"Don't worry, Ill deal with him." You said politely, nodding at her before walking past her, going to the room where he was at. You opened the door and you saw the way his eyes lit up, and a grin landed on his usually nonchalant face. "Love!" He said, as you walked up to him.
"Why are always acting so stubborn to the medics? You know that they're there to help you, idiot." You said clearly irritated, making him pout and tilt his head. "But, I want you to help me!!...and have your hands all over my body..." He whined, grabbing your hand and resting it on his cheek, looking up at you with hearts in his eyes.
yan mafia boss who has to always be in constant contact with you
ʏ/ɴsᴅ𝟷ᴅɪᴄᴋʀɪᴅᴇʀ!
n/nnn
where are uuuuu
n/nnnnn
n/nnnn
...?
...
...
no reply?
Have other hoes?
YOU DO DONT YOU?!!!?!?!!?
i hate u.
You getting blocked.
dont talk to me. I know you hate me.
Okay, im going to kill my self.
...?
....
...
This is (yans name, yall could make sum up) cat, he just shot himself
do you love him
...
...?
baby you know that was all a prank
i love u
pls let me eat ur ass
i wanna slurp ur kitty so good that the only thing i could taste is u mami
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(seen 1 min ago)
ʏ/ɴsᴅ𝟷ᴅɪᴄᴋʀɪᴅᴇʀ!
ur rlly gonna leave me on seen?
ur lucky i dont come and cream all over ur face rn
pls touch me
yan mafia boss who has his bodyguards protect you no matter where you go
"Okat sigma 1, hawk tuah, ohio go protect n/n, you better fucking protect her with your life, ya hear?!" He said to his bodygaurds aggressively, scowling them down as they shook in fear,....i think one of them peed their pants...erm!
yan mafia boss who is madly jealous, putting a bullet into anyone's head he sees as threat for your love.
yan mafia boss who when you arent around, he struggles to sleep. He tosses and turns, his mind racing with scenarios about what they might be doing or who they’re with. "is she with that ugly bitch from work again?! Is she with one of my bodyguards?! Is she cheating on me?!" He hiccuped through his sobs, biting on his nails, hair all messy from tossing and turning throughout his sleep
He often wakes up in a cold sweat, feeling empty without them next to him. If you spends the night somewhere else, he'll start spamming you on everything even roblox.. If you dont answer within 5 mins, he immediately sends his men to try to find you, and paces around his house, restless waiting for your reply. bruh u were js buying sum takis...
yan mafia boss who is your boss who favors you a little too much!!! <333
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IM PROB GONNA UPDATE SOME MORE ON TUMBLR BUT IM STILL ON BREAK ON WATTPAD CUZ I LOST MY GOD DAMN PHONEEE
SORRY IF THIS IS SHORT I DIDNT RLLY KNOW WHAT TO DO FOR MAFIA BOSS YAN
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coldfanbou · 3 days
Text
Be Sure Of It
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Here we are with Eunha. In the end, I kept it as only her because I had this idea. Honestly, though, I may use the building mentioned for some other smuts. It would be pretty easy to insert other idols there and just have a universe around it. Also, it was a little tricky to write this because I had to think about whether to refer to Eunha using the stage name versus her real name.
Length 3.2K
Eunha X Mreader
You waited nervously at the restaurant, tapping your fingers on the table as you waited for your date's arrival. You peered out the large windows, hoping to spot her; her profile was on your phone, so you didn’t mistake someone else for her. Then, you saw her across the street, her bag slung over her shoulder as she hurried towards you. Relief washed over you as you recognized her, and she noticed you, too, waving with a bright smile. She walked around the corner, stepped inside, and headed straight toward you. “Hi! I’m Eunbi; sorry for keeping you waiting!” She exclaimed, slightly out of breath, as she sat down and reached over the table to shake your hand.
“It’s nice to meet you too. I was a little worried you wouldn’t show up,” you admit, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same way.
“I’d never no-show a date. It’s hard enough to get one with my job.” 
You nod your head, trying to remember what her job was. “It was as a-”
“A health girl,” Eunbi interrupts, “I’m glad you remember,”
“Yeah, I tried to remember everything you had on your profile. I must have gone over it a hundred times before today.” You feel immediate embarrassment as those words leave your mouth, and you hang your head, feeling like you just made a big mistake.
Eunbi laughs, though, “Really? Were you that interested in me?” Looking up, you see Eunbi resting her head on her hand, her cheek squished. 
“Um, yes,” You say quietly, feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks as Eunbi's laughter fills the air. You could feel your cheeks turning red, and you were sure she could see it, too.
“Don’t be shy; that makes me pretty happy. I don’t get many matches because of my profession. Those that I do get usually only want one thing. So, what made you interested in me?
“I thought you were cute and saw all the pictures of you cosplaying. I thought it was cool.” You say shyly. 
“Ah! You looked at them?!” The excitement in her voice was evident, “Which one was your favorite?”
“I liked you as Haruko from Slam Dunk,” you reply, pulling up the picture. “I liked your smile; you looked really happy in it.”
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Eunbi purses her lips, trying to hide her smile. “Thanks,” she giggles. “No one really likes those old shows anymore, but I think they’re pretty fun.” You and Eunbi spent the date discussing old shows and sharing that interest. It was enjoyable; the two of you enjoyed sharing your thoughts about which shows should be remade and which should remain classics. As your time together came to a close, you ordered an ice cream and headed out the door together. You walked around, continuing your chat until you found yourselves in the city’s central park. 
Eunbi came to a stop, sitting on a nearby bench and waiting for you to sit next to her. “Tonight has been really fun, and I want to go on another date.” She says quietly, her happy energy from earlier fading as she becomes serious. “But are you sure you are okay with dating someone like me? It’s just- I mean, a lot of guys say they’re okay with it, but they really aren’t. They try to get me to quit as soon as we’re together.” It’s clear to you this was something Eunbi had gone through multiple times; the anxiety in her voice and the fact she was staring at the ground the entire time she spoke was enough. “I-I just…”
“Eunbi, I’m okay with it.” You say, placing your hand on hers. Eunbi raises her head, turning to face you. “It must be hard on you, looking for someone, but I’m okay with you having that sort of job. I’ll never make you quit; that’s your decision.” You take a deep breath, “I’d like to take you on another date, Eunbi.”
Eunbi sniffles, and a small smile appears on her face. “Thanks for saying that, but,” she pulls her hand away and reaches into her bag, pulling out a small business card. “I think you should see me at work before you decide if you want to go on another date with me.” Eunbi pushes herself off the bench and stands up. “Anyway, thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun. You know where to find me, " she says softly. 
You rise slowly and walk over to Eunbi with the business card still in hand. “Yes, I do. Thanks for tonight, Eunbi.” You wrap your arms around her and hug her, feeling her arms hesitantly wrap around you before cinching in. After a moment, the two of you break apart and head separate ways for the night.
That night, you looked at the card before going to bed, feeling excited about the next step. You wanted to go on another date with Eunbi, so you had to visit her first. You notice the name change on it; she didn’t use her real name. She used Eunha.
A few nights passed when you decided to visit Eunbi at her workplace.  While the place was open all day, Eunbi worked in the evenings and nights, so that’s when you had to go. It was in the red-light district. You weren’t familiar with it and wandered around, trying to find the place. Neon lights glowed from every building, painting the street with various colors. You continued past the barkers, trying to get you to walk into their establishment. You turn your head, viewing both sides so you won’t have to do another lap. Then you spotted it; it was a large building that took up an entire block. Much like the other buildings in the area, it bathed the street in bright pink neon lights. You cross the street, getting closer, when you notice the women dancing inside, inviting men to enter. They wore revealing outfits, from bunny suits and sexy maids to wedding dresses, with some just in lingerie. The ground level had them separated into their own rooms. You come to a stop, though, as you pass by a crowd; glancing at the window, you see one of the women having sex, fucking like a rabbit in heat with her breasts pressed against the glance. You pry your eyes away and look ahead, noticing she isn’t the only one. Other women in the rooms ahead were also having sex. 
You refocused yourself and continued toward the entrance, heading inside and finding a similar situation, with women in rooms, some dancing and others having sex. On occasion, there would be room blacked out, giving you the hint that some people wanted to be watched. Once down the hall, you found a board of faces—a picture of a woman and their face on it. Some were greyed out, signifying they were with a client. “You have to put money in first, sir.” You hear from behind you. Turning around, you find a staff member sharply dressed in a suit behind the counter. The man repeats himself, pointing to the bottom left of the giant screen. You notice a smaller pad was there to take payment. “If you’d like any information about the ladies before choosing, please feel free to ask me.” 
“Is Eunha here?” You ask nervously. 
The staff member looked down at something before meeting your gaze and responding matter-of-factly, “Yes, she is. She is on the top left-hand side of the board.” You nod and pay for an hour's session before returning to the larger screen and looking for Eunha. You spot her picture at the top and press it, confirming your choice after.
“Good choice, sir. Here is your room key, " the staff member says, pulling out a keycard. “She is on the second floor; once up the stairs, go to the right side at the end of the hall, turn to the left, and she will be at the end of that hall.” The man extends his arm, showing you the staircase. You take the keycard and give the man a nod before heading up the spiral staircase, finding a large lounge with a couple of men sitting idly. You glance at the other two hallways before heading to the right. You feel your heart beat faster as you make the final turn and head to the end of the hall. You stand outside the door and take a deep breath before tapping the keycard and opening it. You step inside and find Eunha waiting on the other side. She’s in a school uniform that’s been cropped and is wrinkled. The skirt, if you could call it that at this point, ended a few inches from the waist. Eunha had on a pair of crotchless panties, and you could see how slick her thighs were with her; there was cum running down her legs. On the top half of her body was an open button-up shirt that she had tied together in a loose knot, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.
“Oh! It’s you!” Eunha says with a smile on her face. “You actually came.”
You nod, “I said I would.”
Eunha chuckles, “I guess you did.” You both stand there awkwardly, unable to continue. “Please have a seat.” Eunha moved back to the kingsized bed. She throws herself on it and pats the spot next to her. After sitting beside her, Eunha places her hand on your thigh. “I guess you can see what my last customer did to me,” Eunha says, looking between her legs. “I barely had time to get the room ready again.” She sighs, looking down at the floor and kicking her feet softly. “This is what I meant; I understand if you don’t want to date me. Who would want to have a girlfriend that’s constantly getting fucked by others.” You feel the sadness begin to seep through into her voice. 
You shake your head, “Eunbi, I told you I don’t care. I knew that going into this, I’d have to be okay with you having this job. Look, I know we’ve just been on a single date, but I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”
“You mean that?” Eunha asks, her voice wavering. You nod at Eunha and place your other hand on hers. Though small, your action was enough to give Eunha some confidence in you. She sniffles before giving you a bright smile. “I guess we should get started then, right?”  
“I guess so.” Eunha presses her lips against yours, pushing you onto the bed and straddling you. You feel the passion behind the kiss, the corners of her mouth pulled into a smile. She lifts your shirt past your arms and over your head. Eunha was confident in every action. She moved down slowly, raising her ass in the air as she worked at getting your pants down, unbuckling your belt, and unbuttoning your pants. She stares you down as she bites down on the zipper tab and pulls it down. You can see a growing hunger in her eyes as she crawls over you and steals another kiss from you. You feel her hands move down your side as she tries to pull your pants off you.
You help her get them off, along with your underwear. Eunha’s hand grasps your shaft, moving up and down slowly as she meets your gaze. “You’re already nice and hard for me.” She whispers, her grip growing tighter. You see her smile grow as you moan her name. Eunha moves her other hand down, cupping your balls. “These are so big and heavy. I haven’t eaten all day. You have a lot of cum for me, right?” She gives you a pout before moving down your body and pressing her face against your cock, letting the tip rest against her forehead. She kisses the shaft and takes in your scent before wrapping her hand around it again. Eunha shuts her eyes and presses her lips against the base of your cock, inching upward toward the tip. She was moving toward more sensitive areas, and with each kiss, precum leaks from the tip of your cock.
Finally reaching the tip, Eunha opens her eyes again. She smiles at you before pushing the tip against her lips, slowly spreading them and allowing you inside her warm mouth. You feel her tongue run up and down your shaft as she rubs the head against the inside of your cheek. Her hand strokes the base of your cock, ensuring you’re getting the most out of it. She pulls back slowly, letting her saliva drip onto your cock, her tongue sticking out. 
Running her hand up and down your shaft, Eunha spreads her saliva across your cock. “This is going to be good,” she mutters, leaning down and wrapping her lips around your cock. You groan, enjoying as Eunha bobs her head, her tongue running along the underside of your shaft. You rest on your elbows, watching Eunha, noticing as she moves one hand down and fingers herself, occasionally pulling out to rub her clit. You place your hand on her head, earning you a glance from Eunha. She continued, slowly down and taking more of you in. You lean back and groan loudly as you feel yourself hit the back of her throat. 
Eunha pulls back slowly, slobber running down her chin and onto your cock. She slaps herself with it, dirtying herself further. She strokes your cock quickly as she speaks, “You’re so close; I felt your cock twitch. You can cum whenever you want; you don’t even have to warn me. I’ll be able to drink it all up.” Eunha smiles at you before making your cock disappear again. 
You struggle to hold on as her tongue lashes at the tip of your cock. Eventually, you’re forced to cum; you buck your hips upward into Eunha’s mouth and cum inside. She presses her hand against your pelvis, pushing you down as her lips form a seal around your cock, and she drinks every drop. She bobs her head slightly as you cool down from your climax. Eunha slowly comes to a halt and leaves your cock with a pop, “Ahh, that was so good,” She moans, licking her lips. 
Eunha places her hand on your cock, stroking it to get you hard again. “That must’ve felt really good for you; you came a lot.”
“It was amazing,” you groan, her grip tightening as you get hard again.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now it’s time for the best part.” Eunha straddles you, rubbing your cock between her folds as she aligns you to her entrance. She reaches forward, grabbing your hands and interlacing her fingers with yours as she lowers herself onto your cock. You slip in easily, her warm and slippery walls snuggly wrapping around your cock as she rests against your pelvis. Eunha’s soft moan fills the room, and you move up her body until you meet Eunha’s gaze. She gives you a soft smile that you can’t help but return. She keeps her hands with yours as she begins to bounce on your cock, soft moans flowing from her lips. Eunha leans against you, your hand holding becoming the only thing keeping her up. You lowered your eyes, noticing the knot that kept her shirt together come loose. Your eyes became glued to Eunha’s chest, watching her tits bounce as she rode you. “Ah, hold on,” she moaned, letting you off your hands to throw off her shirt. Eunha placed her hands on your chest and began moving again, her slow movements picking up speed with time. You placed your hands on her waist, holding her as she rode you. Eunha kept her eyes shut and threw her head back, groaning as she felt your cock go deep inside her. “You’re…going to… make me cum,” Eunha said, struggling to get her words out.
“I’m going to cum too.” You grunted, your cock throbbing against her tightening walls. You begin thrusting into Eunha, going deeper as your bodies collide. “I want us to cum together,” Eunha nods her head, biting her bottom lip as she nears her climax. You both cry out as you reach your peak; Eunha slams herself down on you, impaling herself on your cock and cumming with you. You pull Eunha into a kiss as she collapses on top of you, her chest heaving as you both slowly come down. 
“That was amazing,” she says, still out of breath. Eunha unmounts you and places herself on your bicep, taking a few deep breaths before looking into your eyes as you lay there together. 
“I’ve seen you at your work now. So I can ask you out on another date, right?” After a few minutes of staring into your eyes, her face turns red. She covers it with her hands and turns her back to you. “Eunbi? What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to turn her back around.
“It’s embarrassing!” She shouts into her hands.
“What?”
“Ahh! I said all those things in front of you!” Eunbi buries her face into the mattress and kicks her feet. 
“Those things?” You ask curiously.
“Those things about your cock and balls. It’s so dirty!” You laugh at her answer, making her raise her head. “Don’t laugh! I only say those things here because people like to hear that!” She explains, her tiny fists knocking on your chest. “You’re never going to hear me repeat those things! They’re too embarrassing to say to someone I’m dating!” 
You laugh again, enjoying how embarrassed she was. “So, does that mean we’re going on another date?” Eunbi pauses her tantrum, realizing what she said. She peers up at you, and you ask again, “Eunbi, would you like to go out on another date?”
Eunbi feels a warmth in her heart as she hears your question being asked so sincerely and nods. “I’d like that; yeah, let’s go on another date,” she says softly before embracing you. You spend the rest of your time lying together. When your time runs out, and you're forced to separate, Eunbi kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll text you, okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” You respond before kissing Eunbi one more time before you go. “Have a good day at work.” She smiles and waves as you shut the door behind you. You get home sometime past midnight and lay in bed. You couldn’t sleep, though; your body was filled with energy after your night with Eunbi. You thought you would feel tired, but that wasn't the case, and just as your mind began to drift, you got a single-word message from Eunbi. 
“Breakfast?” It made you chuckle, and you agreed to meet her for breakfast in the morning. The two of you met for breakfast, chatting about old cartoons like you had on your first date. Eunbi felt content, happy to have found you, and hoping the relationship continues. The wariness of a new relationship was still on her mind, but seeing that you went further than many others had dared to, she felt a sense of comfort with you.
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