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#THEY LEFT HIM I'M NOT OK HE WAS SO TINY

iwasbored777 · 8 months

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He doesn't just say "bye" he says "see you later".

"SEE YOU LATER"

"LATER"

He didn't understand them right. He was smiling. He was a baby. He thought they will come back. He thought they aren't leaving for long time. He thought he'll see them again soon. And then he grew up without them. He didn't know that what they meant was that they'll never come back again. Imagine him that day, that week, that month, that year, and years later thinking "why aren't they coming back? Where are they?" And then growing up knowing that he's all alone and accepting the fact that they left him or, you know, since Bergens were attacking, he probably assumed some of them were killed too. Wow.

#I'M NOT OK WHY DOES EVERY TROLLS MOVIE HAVE A SUCH A DARK HEARTBREAKING PLOT #THEY LEFT HIM I'M NOT OK HE WAS SO TINY #trolls branch #trolls band together #trolls floyd #trolls spruce #trolls clay #trolls john dory #brozone #trolls 3 #branch

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arminsumi · 9 months

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I want to kiss you / キスしたい

G. Satoru

NOTE: i recently started learning to write in japanese for not much reason other than to occupy my mind with something new. this little daydream came to me and i can't stop thinking about it, i think falling in love despite a language barrier is one of the purest and sweetest ways to fall in love.

WARNINGS — it might be fem reader idk, kissing 👍, ur married w him at the end, not proofread lol i'm snuggled up in bed ok

Satoru cant speak english and you cant speak japanese; Suguru is the translator friend. You met him online years ago, who knows how. But you hit it off, and four years of friendship rolled by.

Satoru heard all about Y/n and saw you many times when Suguru facetimed or called you. You and him had many cute, playful interactions, ranging from making hearthands at each other to flipping each other off and laughing about it. Sometimes Satoru would be sat off-camera, overloading Suguru with things to translate, because he had a lot to say to you. One time, Suguru left for a few minutes to get a pizza delivery, and then Satoru got very quiet and the two of you blinked at your screens.

"Hi."

And then you two for some reason started laughing with your whole chests, Suguru walked in with a confused smirk. He joked, "Sooo... what did you and Satoru talk about while I was gone?" He asked, gentle accent coming through in soft waves. "The mysteries of the universe." You replied. Satoru was already diving into the pizza box, but he still listened to you speak; he wondered what you had said, maybe you used some fancy words to say that you liked him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't memorize variations of "i like you" after that. He was paranoid that he could miss you saying that you liked him.

You managed a slow, meticulously-pronounced nice to meet you in Japanese when you finally visited Tokyo. It was at the airport. You and Suguru had shared many hugs — good grief, you'd seen height comparisons many times but none painted a real idea of just how big these boys were. But Satoru? He was loudmouthed on a screen and surprisingly shy in person. Eventually he hugged you and didn't let go. He even got so comfy as to hang and cling to your body like you saw him doing with Suguru in countless photos and videos.

Though you could barely pronounce the little Japanese that you picked up, Satoru felt giddy to hear your pretty voice in his language. He listened to you like you were reciting love poetry to him, fists under his chin and eyes starry. But you were just saying basic phrases, boring things — nothing that articulated your thoughts properly.

He was far too embarrassed to try and speak any English when he first met you, even though after developing a crush on you he did start learning some English on the side. He knew quite a bit, but listening was so impossibly difficult it frustrated him like nothing else. He was also self-conscious of his English accent, though Suguru tried to assure him that he sounded very cute and almost oddly British.

So often instead of attempting to speak tiny phrases to you, Satoru threw a lot of hand motions and signals your way which got the two of you and Suguru laughing — poor Sugie, he was always translating even the smallest things you said even if you muttered them under your breath, because Satoru was eager to know every little thought and expression you had, even if you were simply commenting on the weather.

Once you commented that it was so hot, you were visiting during a heatwave-filled summer. Satoru raised his brows at Suguru expectantly, and you heard a familiar translation;

暑い。

It's hot.

There was such a frustrating language barrier between the two of you, it became more evident when you had finally flown over the sea to meet them.

Yet you and satoru fell in love silently and beautifully, your love flowing like a river in the most unexpected directions. You felt his affection emanating from his irises. You and him joked around, and talked — though you had no idea what the other meant most of the time. Sometimes the two of you gave up and you talked in English, he responded with Japanese, and it went on like that very comedically until Suguru came back to bridge the gap.

Lots of time was spent putting your heads together over your phone, reading translations of what you wanted to say to each other.

One day, when Suguru left the two of you alone in his apartment kitchen so that he could hop to the convenience store, Satoru typed something into the translator and let you read it. Your face warmed up.

キスしたい。

I want to kiss you.

He looks at you expectantly.

You type back to him.

Then kiss me.

それからキスして。

He blushed and hesistated, the two of you making electric eye contact for a while before he boyishly pecked your lips to test if you liked his kiss, but oh that's all the two of you needed to realize just how much you liked each other. You melted into each other like your bodies were made for nothing else but to embrace and be one. He shook a little, tentatively gliding his lips over yours. His hands nervously cupped your cheeks. With the way he handled you so carefully, you'd think you were made of porcelain.

Your reciprocation meant everything to him. His confidence flourished. The soft smacking, wet sounds got louder when he kissed you more passionately. Those gentle hands found their way to the back of your neck, and he softly pressed you closer to him as if he was scared you would pull away. What if you changed your mind mid-kiss? He was overthinking and you wouldn't have even guessed it, because you thought he was in the same blissed out dream state as you were. So high on kissing that the world fell away.

The two of you started smiling embarrassedly, grinning so hard that you couldn't continue kissing. Then the two of you just giggled against each other's faces — a subconscious realization swept him; laughter and kissing are their own languages.

Yes as years passed and you visited time and time again, your Japanese improved and his English improved. When you moved to Japan, eventually you adopted a messy mix of Japanese and English with Satoru. He liked showing off how perfectly he could pronounce things, and you liked showing off that you could write very neat kana.

Years and years and years passed and when you and him were married in your own little apartment, starting a life together, a very fluent Satoru reminisced about how the two of you fell in love despite barely speaking to each other.

"It was your eyes for me." You said.

"Oh really? It was your voice for me. I didn't know what you were saying, but it sounded nice." He said.

"Mmm I liked your voice, too." You said, snuggling your head on his shoulder. He basked in the attention, though it was common, it always felt special for him. The smallest hand touches and wrist kisses made his heart lurch.

"Remember when I always nagged Suguru to translate every little thing you said?"

"Yeah, you worked him to the bone." You chuckled.

"I just wanted to know what you were saying. I had such a crush on you, looking back now it was even ridiculous how much I liked you considering the barrier and all."

"Ooh, did you?"

"How is this surprising? We're married??"

"Oh yeah."

#🗑️ — trash #♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 #gojo #gojo satoru #fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x fem reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo

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viennakarma · 3 months

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Everything I Wanted III.

LESTAPPEN x READER (PART 3/FINALE)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 10k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, open ending, HEA, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are also a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is a tiny bit angsty. Maybe I should've mentioned it before, but both Max and Charles are single in this story. I'm sorry if it feels rushed or if it has any mistakes, I just let my heart go with the flow!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You spend a few days in some happy daze, just shamelessly bashing in your Championship. Everyone knew because you were positively giddy during the last race week in Abu Dhabi, you were seen smiling more during that one week than you had been seen smiling in your three years of Formula 1.

Some of the drivers were even more amicable towards you and your closest friends were even teasing you all the time, calling you Champion so they could see you blush and giggle.

“Hey there, Champ,” Lewis would greet you.

“Buenos días, campeona,” Fernando would say and laugh at your reaction.

Lando even joked to some reporter that you were in love with the championship.

There was a dinner organized by the drivers to say farewell to Sebastian. Despite knowing most drivers confirmed their presence there, you planned to go and leave early because you always felt left out whenever most drivers got together.

That’s why you texted Lewis to ask what he was wearing that night, and you ended up wearing high waisted suede pants, and a white T-shirt, finishing with a classic black scarpin in your feet and a purse.

Since you and Nando were in the same hotel, you decided to go together with his driver. Only when you got to the car, Charles was also inside the car, and you had to sit quietly by his side, his thigh brushing yours. Nando was in the passenger seat, and you started small talk with him to diffuse the tension he was unaware was happening in the backseat. You were engaged in conversation with Nando when you felt Charles fingers touching your knee. Jolting, you immediately slapped his hand away.

“You ok there?” Nando asked from the front of the car.

“Uh, yes! Just an- annoying mosquito!” You said, faking a smile.

Charles pouted, crossing his arms and pointedly looking to the window of his side.

As the three of you arrived there, half of the grid was already there, seated and chatting. Lewis welcomed you first, warning that he purposefully invited Sebastian to arrive thirty minutes later, so he was the last to arrive. As you sat beside Nando, you noticed how Charles sat beside you again, facing Pierre across the table, and you ended up facing Max. Your eyes met, but you looked away, deciding to focus on conversation with Nando and Lando, who was in front of him.

When Seb arrived, he was welcomed with a round of applause, which made his cheeks redden a little as he laughed. The dinner went well, and you shared red wine with a few of the others, some of them preferred other drinks. It was nice chatting with everyone, and it was the first time you really felt part of the group, everyone together laughing and eating.

“Y/N, who’s your idol from this table?” Carlos asked with a smirk.

“You wanna put me in trouble,” you eyed around. Everyone knew that the people you were closest with, Lewis, Seb and Nando were your racing idols.

“Come on, your favorite, Lewis, Seb or Fernando?” Lando joined in, and the others joined too, egging you on.

“Kimi is my favorite,” you muttered before taking a sip of your wine. Everyone started shouting and calling you a liar, “fine, fine, it doesn’t mean I’m not a big fan of the other two, but growing up, I’ve always wanted to race like Fernando.”

“And now you do,” Fernando said, raising his glass in a toast, which honestly made you blush. Everyone started making fun of you because you were shy and giggly.

You ended up staying until the end, when everyone had to leave to get a good night of sleep for the free practices the next day.

Race day there was a small ceremony to say goodbye to Sebastian, and it was the only part of the week that made you a little sad, even though part of you were really happy knowing he would get to spend time with his family and dedicate himself to his projects of sustainability. When the drivers made a little corridor to applaud him, Sebastian hugged you and you felt a little teary eyed.

The race was great, and you put some effort into winning that one, because you wanted to finish the season with a bang. And a bang it was, holding the P1 trophy again, kissing it and then raising it high as homage to mom.

After the season ended officially, you went straight to Woking to visit the factory and thank everyone personally for making you a car fast enough to make you the champion. Then you had a few media commitments, had to go over some marketing and legal meetings about brands deals and whatnot interested in your image.

Finally, by the beginning of December, you went back to Monaco and slept in for a few days, relaxing body and mind.

When Lando found out you were living in Monaco, he invited you to a padel match, and despite not knowing the game very well, you never said no to any form of competitive sport that could take your mind off things.

“I’ll let you know, I’m a fast learner, Landito.” You pointed when he gave you a padel racket.

“Come on, you have 20 minutes to learn the basics before our competition is here,” he said.

“Oh, we’ll be playing as duos?” You smiled, letting him lead you to the court.

Lando taught you the basics for a while, and you were getting the hang of it when you heard voices behind you. You stopped short as you noticed your competition were Charles and Max, and as they saw you, they too seemed surprised.

“Hello,” you greeted them with a nod.

Luckily Lando didn’t waste any time with pleasantries and went straight to the game. Which was great, since that was a language you could speak. You soon noticed Charles and Max had a bit more experience than you, so you had to up your game a bit, using strategy to outsmart them.

You and Lando won three games and Charles and Max won four.

As you finished, you went to the net and shook their hands. Max stared at you intensely, but you ignored him and went grab your bag.

“You’re leaving?” Lando asked, “we were going to grab a snack after.”

“Oh, um, yeah- I gotta go, I still have a lot to do around the apartment and I’m waiting for some furniture to arrive,” you gave an excuse.

“You’re living in Monaco?” Charles asked, visibly surprised at the info.

“Yeah. So, bye. Thanks for the game.” You started walking away, but Lando jogged to catch up to you.

“Hey, uh- text me when you’re free this weekend. I wanted to talk to you privately about… McLaren” he whispered your team’s name and you raised an eyebrow, you had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but you nodded.

Lando ended up coming over to your apartment Saturday afternoon, he helped you paint your living room walls a soft green, and after you finished, you were eating a few snacks when he finally said what he wanted to talk about.

“So, I know that legally we shouldn’t be talking about it, but- for how long is your new contract with McLaren?” He breached the subject. You paused.

“What? You know my contract ends by the end of next season.”

“Yeah but- the new one-”

He silenced himself abruptly, probably realizing you didn’t get a new one. You pressed your lips in a thin line. You had a contract similar to Lando’s, that would end by the end of next year. But now- now Lando had been offered a renovation, and you weren’t.

“They offered you an extension already?” You asked, shocked.

“No- I mean- It’s just-” Lando realized by your face that he had fucked up.

“Lando.”

“Yes, from 2024 on, with possible extensions,” He said, apologetically.

“Oh” you whispered.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure they are just taking their time putting your contract together since you’re, you know, the world champion,” Lando startled rambling, until his phone started ringing, “I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’m streaming tonight and I need to set up. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sure they’ll offer your renewal soon.”

You bid him goodbye, still processing his words. You tried to be reasonable and not be upset, but the prospect of not receiving a proposal being the world champion didn’t sit right with you. You meditated, thinking to not let that get to you, but a few days before the FIA Gala, you received a proposal from Mercedes, and another from Aston Martin. Both were great, great contracts. They offered a lot of money, security and great publicity.

The night of the Gala, you went all out. Amanda helped you hire a glam team, so you had make up, hair and stylists helping you dress. You wore a silver dress, long with a high slit on the leg, black heels, and your hair was short now, shoulder length and dyed black. You wanted a femme fatale look, and that’s what you got.

Unfortunately, Kimi and Minttu couldn’t go with you, and you didn’t bother to find a date, opting to go by yourself. When you arrived at the ceremony, all eyes were on you. You posed a little by the red carpet and answered a few questions about the championship.

During the ceremony you sat with Lewis, chatting up until the main awards were called. You watched as Charles went up the stage for the third place trophy, he was handsome wearing some designer suit and tie, and glasses that made him even more attractive. He said a couple of words, before making his way down. Then was Max, wearing a gorgeous tux, perfectly tailored to his shoulders and waist. While he was talking, you fixed the bust of your dress and waited for your name to be called alongside the words world champion.

When you got to the stairs, Max was down there, and he offered you a gentlemanly arm to help you up, you hesitated for a brief second but then accepted, letting him guide you up the steps.

Your eyes were on the beautiful trophy. The smile on your face was big, almost giddy, as you went on the stage. You kissed your trophy, leaving a red lipstick stain on the side of it, and you stopped by the mic. After a brief second to recollect your thoughts, you sighed.

“Wow! It’s such an honor to receive this as a token of my hard work and all my years facing pushback for this dream,” you smiled down at the trophy, “I’ll try and keep it brief. I know I have already said some of this, but I’d like to thank my team, not only for making this amazing car that became part of me during this season, but also for giving me a chance three years ago. Thanks to Jace and Amanda, who were such great help this year. I’d like to thank Kimi for seeing me when I was on the brink of giving up and when no scouts looked in my direction, and Minttu for taking me in as one of her own,” you put a hand on your chest, above your heart as your voice choked a little, heavy with emotion, “Thank you, Sebastian and Fernando for accepting my friendship when everyone else turned their backs on me,” you found them both around the crowd, Nando sending you a wink, and Sebastian smiling wildly, “and last but not least, I’d like to thank my mum for working hard to put a roof over my head and food on the table while I was out there hustling for my dream.”

Everyone clapped and you waited for the applause to die down. You could end your speech there, but you wouldn’t be the Lioness if you did.

“Oh, and for those who said I wasn’t gonna go far… You can suck my-” you interrupted yourself, showing your tongue cheekily, making almost everyone in the room laugh.

That night you drank, danced and sang like never before. You woke up hungover and a little blacked out, not remembering the whole night, only some glimpses of it.

You stayed the Holidays with Kimi and his family, and despite being invited by Lando to a big New Year’s Eve party, you opted for a chill celebration. You still found time to send Sebastian and his family some Christmas presents and you managed to go karting with Fernando on his track in Asturias.

After meeting with Fernando, you went on a solo trip around Spain, visiting cities and learning a little bit about history while practicing your spanish. You also tried a few hobbies, out of curiosity. You tried playing tennis, skydiving and surfing.

Soon, you were back in Monaco to resume your training for next season and traveling to Woking to see your new car. You also sat with Amanda and your lawyer, and accepted a few brand deals, one for makeup and another for a big fashion brand. You were genuinely happy with both, you always wanted to get into fashion but never had the time or knack for it, but now with your deal, they would link you to a stylist and give you outfit options.

You entered the new season fresh, feeling good not only about your talent as a racing driver, but about your looks and new style, feeling that your championship could finally back you up.

Only if the media got the memo.

“Y/N do you believe when people attribute your championship win to Verstappen’s mistake?”

You felt fire in your throat, anger bubbling up.

“No, I believe I won the championship because I drove well the whole season. I attribute my championship to myself, my talent and my hard work,” your tone was harsh, and you didn’t even bother to sound pleasant, “I wonder if this was asked to every other Formula 1 champion of the world or just me?”

You huffed, putting your mic down, and you saw Fernando leaning towards you to whisper, “it’s good to have the Lioness back.”

It was different seeing Nando wearing green now and Sebastian’s absence was noticed from day one. He had sent you a text wishing good luck in the season.

There was also a weird shift that you noticed soon, right in the first few races. The rivalry between Max and Charles had been placated a little. They were still rivals on the track, but out of it, they were seen chatting and discussing, all in good spirits and friendly. Whatever rift had caused the tension all these years was apparently mended. So now, they were only your rivals, together against the greater evil. You.

Without a win in the first three races that season, you were sure something was wrong. Could it be your car, but it could also be you.

You came out of debriefing feeling a stress induced headache starting. You walked around the paddock aimlessly, just trying to clear your head and not face any photographer or reporter. That’s why you were around the moving boxes and trucks, trying to find a secluded spot to breathe and meditate.

Unfortunately, you ended up facing two people pressed against a wall. Frowning, you tried to understand what was going on, when you realized it was Max and Charles. Their sides were pressed on each other, but what caught your attention was that they were holding hands, whispering to each other.

You paused, trying to make sense of it. And then Max caressed Charles’ jaw. Then you decided, it was none of your business whatever they did.

Turning around, you were leaving when you stepped on something and it broke loudly. You just kept walking away, not looking back, you were almost leaving the lot when someone held your wrist, making you turn back around.

“Wait, Y/N, we- we can-” Charles’ voice failed him, visibly nervous.

“We can buy your silence,” Max added, suddenly. You frowned, shaking your head.

“I didn’t see anything,” you muttered trying to walk away, but now Max also held your other wrist.

“Say your price,” Max pressed further, making you angry.

“I don’t know what kind of psycho you take me for, but I didn’t see anything,” you say, suggestively, “I wouldn’t want someone to out me, and I wouldn’t do that to anyone else either. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Fuck,” Max whispered, letting go of your hand.

“You- you promise?” Charles asked, still not letting go of you.

“I swear on my mom’s grave.” You said softly just because you could understand their fear, you knew first hand how cruel the motorsport world could be. Whatever was going on between them was none of your business.

You left without another word, hoping they believed you.

The season kept going, and your car wasn’t as good as the year before which was really upsetting you and forcing you to work even harder to match your quality the previous year.

But also both Max and Charles stopped publicly taunting you, making people wonder if your rivalry had ended. It was annoying because that dynamic was all that you’ve known from them, and the fact that they stopped shading you because they were scared to anger you and you eventually exposed them to the world was even more annoying. You wondered if you should talk to them, to let them know it was never coming out of your mouth.

You decided silence was the best course of action. You had enough problems with your car as it was.

Before the fifth race of the season, all the drivers were called for a meeting, to talk about a few safety measures that were being put in place for paddock safety. You sat through it quietly, only listening to the FIA representative. You knew that meeting was because of what had happened to you in Zandvoort the year before, you had taken your complaints to the FIA and miraculously, they had abided by it.

You left the meeting as soon as it was over, walking away. But then, you touched your wrist as a nervous tic.

No. No.

You noticed you didn’t have your watch with you the moment you left the building, patting your pockets to make sure it wasn’t there as you ran right back to the meeting room where the drivers debrief had been.

As soon as you entered, you saw both Max and Charles checking the watch, the monegasque was the one holding it.

“Hey, uh-” you paused, trying to not sound rude, “that’s mine, can I have it back?”

Charles looked at you with that smirk as Max moved away a few steps. Charles opened his hand in your direction, handing you the watch. But as you were to grab it, he pulled back and threw it. You froze, seeing the watching flying directly into Max’s awaiting hands behind you.

“Please, don't-” you gasped as Max pretended to throw it back to Charles. But he didn’t, he just extended his open hand to you, probably noticing the worry in your face.

Skittishly, you got closer to him and grabbed the watch from his hand. He didn’t pull away like Charles had done.

But as you pulled it back, your own hand slipped the watch, and you eyed it with horror as it hit the ground immediately breaking the crystal. You felt like your heart was breaking along with your mom’s watch.

“No, no,” you whispered, kneeling down to take it back.

“Hey, what is happ-” you heard Lewis’ voice entering the room but he stopped short as he saw you almost crying on the floor. He immediately helped you get up.

Both Max and Charles were shocked, still rooted to the spot as it was the first time they ever saw you show any kind of extreme emotion, and the pain in your eyes made both of them get filled with guilt.

You stood up still holding the watch in your hand as a fragile thing, pretty much like your heart.

“Hey, kiddo. Come on,” Lewis put an arm around your shoulders, pushing you away softly after giving the other two drivers a nasty glare.

You didn’t try to get it fixed, and you still wore it even with the crystal shattered. You knew it was a relic, vintage and probably handmade since it was generations in your family. But also you were too emotionally attached to it to get rid of the watch.

After the race, once you got a P2, finally, you went to the hotel, skipping the celebration the team wanted to throw for you but still picking the bill for their night out.

It was late at night when you were rewatching the race, trying to see whatever mistake caused you to miss that P1 that was just within reach but you didn’t manage to take it. You were taking notes, typing in your laptop, when a knock on your door interrupted. You had already ordered room service, but sometimes Amanda did it for you if she thought you weren’t eating enough.

You opened the door to be faced with Max and Charles.

“Can we come in?” Charles asked, and confused, you opened the door wider to let them in.

“We came to apologize about the watch, we’re sorry.” Max started, looking at Charles for his cue.

“That was really immature of us, sorry,” Charles added.

“It’s alright,” you sighed, a little tired, “it’s not your fault, really. I dropped it, not you.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened if we just didn’t mess around with you.”

You sighed again, despite being sad about the watch, you didn’t really blame them for it. Charles took your hand suddenly, making you stare up at them, both of them looking at the broken watch you were still wearing. Max opened the bag and handed you a small box. It was a Rolex.

“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” he handed you the watch. You stared at the box, taking it as a sign of good faith from them.

“Thanks,” you whispered, “I was just eating, you wanna join me?”

They nodded, uncertain. They followed you to the en-suite, the most recent race paused on the TV. You closed your laptop.

“I appreciate the gesture, but-” you unclasped the watch in your wrist, handing it to Charles who was sitting closer to you, “it has emotional value, it was mum’s.”

You waited as they read the inscription, Charles gasping when he realized it had way more value to you than the stupidly expensive Rolex they managed to buy you. Running his thumb on the inscription, Max looked at you.

“I know a guy back home, he- he can fix the crystal,” Max told you, “would you trust me to take it to get fixed? It’s the least I could do.”

“You don’t have to,” you shook your head, “I don’t blame you for breaking it.”

“Please?” Max asked, and something inside you spread warmth in your chest.

“Fine,” you sighed, seeing Max pocket your watch in his bag, “please, help yourselves.”

They went to the table of room service and grabbed a bit of food. They sat around.

“You were rewatching the race?”

“Yeah, I like taking notes, seeing what I can improve…”

You closed your laptop and the TV, not wanting them to check your confidential information.

“How are you feeling this year?” Max asked, awkwardly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m alright, I guess. I mean, the car could be better,” you shrugged.

“And about your mom?” Charles looked at you intently.

“It’s grief, right?” You blinked slowly, “it comes and goes in waves. Sometimes they’re tiny waves breaking on your ankles, and sometimes it feels like you’re going to drown in them.”

There’s a brief silence, but when you meet his eyes, Charles’ eyes shine in understanding.

“I know.”

Max managed to change topics, talking about the track, the race and his impressions. Was a safe topic, lighter. You didn’t notice how, but you three ended up sitting in a small circle on the floor. Max was passionately talking about track adherence, and he was so focused on his explanation that it was actually funny. You eyed Charles, and you two bursted out laughing, which made Max stop, looking at you confused.

When you stopped laughing, sitting straight, Charles was suddenly very close. Way closer than before. His face was just a few centimeters away from yours, and it made you dizzy.

You snapped your head to Max, who was looking at you with just as much desire as Charles. He nodded to you, giving you permission.

Charles held your face and kissed you, softly and tentatively. You broke the kiss, looking from Charles’ beautiful eyes to Max’s. You watched as Max shifted closer to you, holding your jaw as he kissed you too.

You couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening, but you were very shocked and equally turned on.

Max’s hand slid from your jaw, down to your neck, and you were still wide eyed, your breathing progressively more shallow. You felt Charles behind you, his hand on your waist, pressing softly. You closed your eyes as Max slowly closed the distance between you again, and you felt his lips pressing against yours. With shaky fingers, your hands trailed beneath his shirt, up his back, nails grazing his skin. While you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss, you moaned, feeling Charles leaving open mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder, goosebumps rising in your skin. It was overwhelming, because they were everywhere, hands, lips and bodies stealing your breath. Everything was so hot, you felt like removing your clothes and the pulsing in your shamelessly wet panties.

“Take it off,” Max breathed after breaking the kiss, he helped the monegasque, who quickly tore your clothes leaving you only in panties. Max pushed you until your back was on the floor, and he and Charles were kneeling on each side of your body. “Charlie, come kiss her.”

Charles laid down, kissing you gently first, then deepening the kiss until you were pawing his waist and torso under his shirt. Seeing your struggle, he removed the shirt himself, while Max watched, running both hands up and down your thighs. Max suddenly pulled Charles closer, kissing him, their kiss was just as hard and messy as the kisses they had given you. Seeing the way their lips explored each other made you even wetter, and you couldn’t help but run your finger above your slit, your pussy still clothed. They removed each other’s clothes very fast.

They stopped, and Max soon removed your panties, laying between your legs. You moaned as his tongue lapped at your pussy, tentatively and Charles leaned down to kiss you again. Your heart was running insane, so fast you thought it would stop. Charles went lower and mouthed at your nipples, and you reached for his cock.

“Spit,” you ordered Charles, offering the palm of your hand. A little hesitantly, he did, a glob of spit on the palm of your hand and you grabbed his cock again, and he moaned out loud feeling the glide of your hand.

You felt one of Max’s fingers inside you, twisting so good that you had to hold his head, grinding your hips into him. The pleasure of Max working your cunt was so blinding that you lost focus on the handjob, but it didn’t deter Charles, who just decided to fuck into your hand.

You looked down, just to see Max looking straight at you through his lashes. He sucked at your clit, watching you writhe and come undone, grinding your hips on his face, wetting half of his face as he devoured you.

“Charlie will fuck you now, yeah?” Max asked as you recovered, and he carried you to the couch, positioned you on his lap, facing Charles, who just knelt between your legs.

Charles filled you up in one swift movement, and you moaned at the tight fit, melting into Max just behind you, holding you firmly, one hand on your neck, the other across your abdomen. The dutch kissed your neck, biting and sucking your skin, but his eyes trained on the way Charles’ hips started moving into you, you pulled Max’s hand that was on your neck and put it over your mouth, to muffle your moans, he pushed two fingers in your mouth and you sucked. The pressure was deliriously good, and Charles kept blabbering about how good you felt, and how warm was your cunt, and you were making him feel so good, mixed with lots of french expletives. Charles pressed further, his chest against yours as he found Max over your shoulder and kissed him. You felt Max’s hand that was between your bodies, find its way to your clit, rubbing in circles and pushing you even faster to your second orgasm, drooling over the fingers he still had in your mouth, you hips shaking so much you were rubbing Max’s cock with your ass, at the same time that Charles came crashing down, filling you up as he moaned out loud.

“My turn now, yes?” Max said, repositioning you like a ragdoll, while Charles laid down, pulling you on all fours on top of him, as Max took his turn behind you.

Charles pulled your face closer, kissing you all sloppy and open mouthed as Max filled you up to the hilt, making your knees shake. As if he knew, and he probably did, Charles held your hips up when Max started pistoning into you, fucking you so good you could only hold onto Charles and bite into his shoulders to keep yourself from being too loud.

You did not sleep that night. Max and Charles’ stamina wa otherworldly, and you three kept fucking until morning came. Sometimes you just watched them, sometimes you took one while the other rested, sometimes you took them at the same time. With them, you tried more adventurous positions than you had tried your entire life. They had a different way of finding out the workings of your body, of discovering the rhythm you liked and the sound of your moaning echoing on the walls.

The second time they slipped into your room was almost three weeks later, under the guise that they wanted to give your watch back now fixed.

After a little chit chat Max pulled you into his lap and Charles pressed his chest to your back and in minutes you three were naked, touching and kissing and moaning into each other's mouth.

It became some sort of routine, every few weeks, they would sneak into your room, and you’d bang them any way you wanted.

Then they would stay more, bring dinner or put on a movie. They would snuggle with you in bed while the movie played, Max holding your thigh softly and you playing with Charles’ hair. It was good to unwind and forget about Formula 1.

Every day, after they left, you’d whisper to yourself.

“Don’t get too attached, Y/N. They’re your rivals.”

You didn’t want to poison all the sexy moments and all the tranquility they made you feel, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get too caught up in this. It should be fun, but it couldn’t be more than that.

Racing was never a topic of conversation between you, not only because those few hours together were sacred but also because all three of you were rivals and were in different teams, which could get very messy, very quickly.

Eventually, after Barcelona, McLaren brought a new upgrade. Which for you, it was a godsend. Finally, you could get back on your feet again. The car felt lighter and you had much more control. And in Montreal, you finally got the first win of the season. A huge weight was lifted from your shoulders and you even cried a couple of tears finishing the race first for the first time that year. And it was also the first 1-2 you and Lando had ever, which was even more reason for celebration.

You and Lando ended up closing a club for your celebration, inviting the whole team.

Max and Charles were there too, and they spent most of the night in a booth, chatting among other drivers. You knew they were watching you even pretending not to, and it was a matter of time until they had drunk enough to approach you. So you decided to not stay late and just leave.

You bid Lando goodbye quickly, telling him you were tired even if it was relatively early for a clubbing night. As you made your way to the most discreet exit, you felt a hand on your forearm, pulling you to a corner, and you were faced with both Charles and Max.

“Leaving so soon, chéri?” Charles asked, eyes glossy and probably a little tipsy.

“We came here to celebrate you,” Max said, one hand going around your waist. Wide eyed, you immediately pushed his hand away, taking a step back. They were confused.

“Not here. Too public, someone might see us, or even take pictures.”

“Don’t be like that, there is no one around now,” Charles pointed around, and granted, it was really empty on that side of the club, but anyone could walk in any moment.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, “not in public.”

“You’re ashamed of us?” Max squinted, looking into your eyes.

“I never said that. I can’t risk anything happening to my image just because I wanted to screw someone.”

“So that’s how you see us? A good fuck and nothing else?” Max pressed you further.

“Again,” you repeated slowly, your patience running thin, “that’s not what I said,” there was a tense pause and you pinched the bridge of your nose, “look, we all had more than enough to drink, and this is not the moment or the place for this conversation.”

“No, no,” Charles shook his head, “I believe you made yourself clear enough.”

With that, they walked away clearly pissed with you. Going back to the hotel, you knew there was nothing you could do at that moment to change their minds. They wouldn’t understand your point of view that easily, not only because they were drunk, but also because they weren’t a woman in Formula 1. Everyone fed off your failures like vultures, and if it leaked that you were going out not only with one, but with two other drivers, you knew you could kiss your career goodbye.

The media was never the kindest to you, and the majority of the fans weren’t either, so you knew how it would look if anyone found out about you three. They already call you slut without any knowledge of your romantic history, they would ruin your life if they were to know. And most certainly question not only your seat in Formula 1 but also your World Championship.

You just hoped you could explain that to Charles and Max when they were with clear heads.

Only you didn’t.

They never came back to your room, nor did they answer your texts.

Two entire weeks passed with only anguish gnawing at your insides, trying to reach them privately, but failing miserably. They were not only ignoring you, but also avoiding you. You couldn’t take it anymore, so in Austria, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You’d corner the first one you saw.

And that was Charles right before the drivers parade. You were the first ones to get there, which gave you some sense of privacy, well, as much as you could.

“You need to listen to me, this is a misunderstanding, Charles.”

But he straight up ignored you, not even bothering to look in your direction. With a heavy heart, you nodded, moving away from him. Making peace with the fact that maybe this was the end of your little affair. They had not understood you, and had ignored all your efforts to explain, closing the door of whatever was going on.

Resolute, you decided that maybe it was for the best. If they couldn’t understand where you were coming from, then better say farewell already. But you couldn’t help that anguishing feeling in your stomach.

It showed to be true during the race, when you were P4 fighting to get into the podium at least. Max was P3, and he fought tooth and nail to not allow you to pass, even if you had the pace to overtake him. You tried a risky move, one you had learned from Fernando Alonso. Pretend you’re going to overtake on one side, let him defend that side, then push your car to the other side and dive for the position.

You almost did the full move, but when you were going for the position, Max just pushed his car into your side, which caused you to lose control and you spun to the gravel. You just decelerated as much as you could. You left the car and went back to the pits with the help of marshals. You didn’t bother to even look into Max’s direction, feeling your eyes getting teary. You weighted with your helmet on, and only took it off inside the garage, because you didn’t want people to see you cry.

It was relatively normal to DFN because of a crash, and given the history of rivalry between you and Max, it was also very common to collide with him. What made you upset wasn’t him protecting his position, but him purposefully taking you out, like he was just getting back at you because he was angry. You had left enough space for him. Despite the overtaking maneuver being a little risky, you never once got close enough to him that you could cause an accident. He had not slipped and lost control. He had not tried to avoid you. He just ran straight into your sidepod.

“What happened today?” A reporter asked you when you went to the post race interviews.

“What is there to say? I think the images speak for themselves.” You shrugged, feeling tired but not wanting to give the media too much as to not cause a PR nightmare to Amanda.

“Seems like the FIA will investigate Max Verstappen because of today’s incident.” Someone else mentioned, and you couldn’t help but scoff.

“I’m sure they will,” you muttered, voice laced with sarcasm.

The debriefing was just as bad with your Team Principal calling you out in front of the whole team not only for damaging your car but also for putting yourself at risk like that.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I did what any other driver would do in my position!” You sighed trying to calm down, “don’t make me quote Ayrton Senna to you. If you no longer go for a gap that exists, then you’re no longer a racing driver. You and everyone saw that Verstappen didn’t have the pace to match me, so he just plunged into me to take me out!”

God, you needed an ice bath. And maybe a new punchbag.

You were getting ready to leave when Max came up to you. You didn’t say anything to him, you honestly didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. You just wanted to go home and cry under the shower.

He was red in the face and looked distressed. You couldn’t help but feel defensive, holding your bag to your chest.

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” you said, trying to walk away but he blocked your path.

“Listen,” he started and the moment he raised his hand to remove his cap, it triggered you, and you flinched as if he was gonna hit you.

He stopped immediately, because he knew that was a trauma response. He knew that him being angry must have reminded you of your father growing up. He knew all that because he too, sometimes, had this kind of knee jerk reaction.

But you felt sick to your stomach. It wasn’t intentional, but it made you look like you believed he would’ve hit you, and rationally you knew he wouldn’t do that. But your stupid body did.

You avoided Max and walked away as fast as you could.

Back in the hotel you just packed your bags and left, going straight to the airport to fly back to Monaco. You were exhausted by the time you made it home, but you still took a shower and cried a couple of tears under the streaming water.

In bed, you tried to convince yourself this ending for your fling with them was for the best. It was too complicated anyway.

And you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t miss the feel of Max’s lips against your neck, or the feel of your hands pulling Charles’ hair softly. Or the way Charles used to mumble French mindlessly whenever he was concentrating on something. Or how often Max would do his maxplaining with his vast knowledge of the most random topics.

Your body was so tired but your mind just did not shut off.

You were a couple of hours into staring at the ceiling when the doorbell rang. Carefully, you went there, it was the middle of the night, so you checked the door camera to see both Max and Charles by the door.

Slowly, you opened to them. You swallowed, waiting for them to say something. You felt so vulnerable, this knot in your stomach had been tormenting you since the day they walked away.

“I’m- we’re really sorry,” Max started.

“For ignoring you and mistreating you and never once giving you the chance to explain your side,” Charles took a small step inside.

It was like a dam broke, and you ran into their embrace, sobbing. All three of you hugged, Charles with a comforting hand on your back and Max kissing the side of your head. They patiently waited for you to calm down, and then closed the door and walked you to the sofa.

“I missed you,” you murmured, holding Max’s jaw to peck his lips, doing the same to Charles, “I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Can we talk?” Charles asked, “you said it was a misunderstanding.”

You nodded, taking your phone from your room. You sat on the coffee table as you gave them your phone with your instagram profile opened.

“Check the comments on my last post,” you pointed and they sat side by side scrolling through it, the horror on their faces getting worse every second they kept going.

You knew the kind of comments you had on your profile. Hateful, hurtful comments. It had been that way since you made it into Formula 1.

“What a slut” “I bet there’s a reason why Charles hates her” “She never deserved that championship! #Retire” “Ugly bitch” “Whose dick she had to blow to get a seat?” “Overrated dumb whore” “I bet she tried to fuck her way through the grid, that’s why most of them hate her” “Max should’ve crashed into her harder”

It was nothing new to you, Kimi and your PR team had prepared you for years for this type of treatment. And you honestly had grown used to it, learning to ignore.

“This is disgusting, Y/N!” Charles exclaimed, trying to put the phone away, but Max snatched it back, still reading the comments.

“That’s just a regular Monday for me,” you shrugged, “I’m not trying to victimize myself or anything, but-”

“You are a victim, this is not okay!” Charles said.

“What I wanted to say is, I can’t risk us going public. This is what I face just for doing my job, and it would get so much worse if people ever found out. They already believe I fucked my way to the top, to them, we would just confirm their suspicions,” you felt Charles holding your hand for comfort, “it is very different for a woman. And I adore what we have, but I can't put you above my career and my dreams.”

Max extended his hand to you, and you grasped it, letting him pull you to sit between them. Charles kissed your cheek.

“We would never ask you to do such a thing,” Max said.

“I’m sorry we didn’t see what you are going through with the media and our fans.” Charles muttered, pulling your hair back with a hand, and holding your waist with the other.

“We missed you,” Max whispered against the other side of your neck.

In a couple of minutes they had you spread open on the sofa, Charles’ head between your legs and Max’s lips latched on to your nipples. They made sure to apologize orgasm after orgasm, cooing your moaning mess and kissing you stupid.

Routine went back to normal after that. You still didn’t name your affair and decided that for now, it was better this way.

With the upgraded car, you actually managed to pick up the pace and find yourself rising up the standings.

Silverstone was promising, being one of your favorite tracks, and one you knew you could win again this year. You did great both of the free practices, trying to keep your focus now more than ever, to get a chance at the championship again. There were specific races that you’d amp up your security team for safety, but Silverstone wasn’t one of them.

Qualifying day, you went to the track early morning, to meet with your team, talk about the results of free practices and your input. As you walked to your garage quietly chatting on the phone, you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you aside. You yelped, jerking around and you ended up facing the person. A man, and it took you a couple of seconds to recognize all the gray hair, but the evil eyes were still very much the same.

It had been more than a decade since you saw your father for the last time. Gasping, you took a step back to walk away, but he gripped your forearm, forcing you back.

Funny how fear worked, you hadn’t seen him for years, and you always imagined that now that you were all grown up, you’d be fearless, a big girl, brave and face your father head on. But it wasn’t how things happened. Immediately your fight or fight kicked in. Your eyes darted around, trying to catch someone you knew or someone from security.

“Let. Go.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Is that how you greet your father?” He said, and you pulled your hand from his grasp.

“I don’t have one,” you spat, anger rising in your chest, hand in hand with fear. You wanted to bolt, to ban him from your life forever, to cry and shout all at once.

“I made you. I spent thousands investing in your career so you could be here, a little gratitude would be good,” he said with a fake smile, and it disgusted you.

“I’ll never attribute my success to you, you disgusting piece of-”

He held your face with a hand, pressing your jaw with such force that it made you stumble a step back. You gripped his wrist, trying to pull away but he pressed your face harder, pressing your head against the wall.

“Very careful how you speak to me!” He rasped, gritted teeth and all, “you little shit, you think you are better than me? I turned you into who you are! The least you own me-”

“I owe you shit!” You said, and spat on his face.

“I gave money and a house to that whore you called a mother-”

You snapped, getting a hold of the fear, and you punched him in the face, hard enough for him to get away and you get space to run. You took one single step when you stumbled into someone, and your eyes found Max.

It was a brief second between looking at you, looking behind you and recognising your father. Recovering from your punch, your father tried to get to you again, but Max stood between the two of you, pushing your father’s chest so he stumbled back. Charles arrived soon after with security, as Max explained that this man was to be escorted out and never allowed to come back.

“Chéri, are you ok?” Charles asked, seeing you taking a step back and leaning against the wall.

You nodded, trying to talk but your voice caught on your throat, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your legs gave in and you slid down until you were sitting on the floor.

“Amour, talk to me, hey-” Charles was worried, you were pale and shaking. Max also knelt down beside you, holding your face to try and see if your father had hurt you.

“Get him out,” you said, and Max nodded, going to talk with security.

“Amour-”

“Guys, there’s cameras around the corner!” Lewis showed up out of nowhere.

“I’m fine,” you managed to blurt, holding on the wall to stand up.

“Hey, hey-” Charles tried to hold your arm but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, walking away back into the garage.

Your mind was spinning, all over the place, and through text you told Charles and Max that you were fine and wanted to be alone. The qualifying was a shitshow. Your mind was completely all over the place, and even making it to Q2, you couldn’t go farther than P14, it felt like the car wasn’t responding to your commands.

You came out of qualy completely pissed. At your father, for showing up and ruining your good streak of races. At yourself, for letting him get to your head, for still giving him so much power over you. You walked away without a second thought, went to your room and kicked your boots off.

Press talk was another shit. You couldn’t pay attention to most questions, gave monosyllabic answers, and couldn’t explain why your qualifying performance was so bad compared to the rest of the year.

You just apologized to your team during debriefing, and silently acquiesced to whatever the strategy for the race was. Kimi had texted you asking about what happened, you didn’t want to talk to him just yet.

You were getting ready to leave for the day, when Fernando came into your room.

“I don’t want to talk, Nando,” you held your bag, not even bothering to look at him.

“Good, because I do the talking then. Go, sit down.” He pretty much ordered, his face stony and serious in a way you hadn't seen before. “What happened today?”

“I’ve got a lot going on,” it was all you said.

“Your father showed up, messed with your head and with your confidence,” Fernando said, with the certainty of someone who knew you really well. You wondered if the whole grid knew about your father’s presence today. You gulped. “Look, this is something you will master with time, but I’m going to tell you now. When you put your helmet on and get in the car, you’re a racer, nothing more. Your problems, your worries, they stay back and they never cross your mind for the entirety of the race. Out on the track, you’re one with the car, doing your best is the only thing that matters.” Fernando pressed his index finger softly to your forehead, as if he was quite literally putting it in your head, “Clear. Your. Mind.”

You sniffled, wiping the one tear that came down. Fernando’s face softened, but you knew he wanted only the best for you. And he was right. You kept giving your father this power. You handed him the power. You couldn’t keep letting him get away with it. This was the one thing you knew you were good at, your calling, your destiny and all your hard work. And you’d be damned if your father would keep a hold over your life.

“Clear my mind,” you inhaled, nodding.

You did your best to study your strategy for the day, to focus on what you could do to achieve the best result.

Early the next morning, you went to the FIA, to request access to the camera footage to find images of the altercation between you and your father the day before. The representative you talked to was initially reluctant but once you told him what had happened, he was quick to help you. You explained that it was for the better that none of that came to light, and hopefully you could get your father to be completely banned from Formula One. The representative prepared a report and assured you that your complaint would be taken seriously and they’d work on the matter as fast and as discreetly as possible.

You went to meet your team and go over and over plan A, B and C. When you got in the car, ready to race, you still hadn’t talked with Max or Charles, and you were hopeful to catch them after. Attaching the helmet, you breathed in, slowly, remembering Fernando’s words.

Clear your mind.

You raced like there was no tomorrow, only thinking of the next turn and the next car you had to overtake, you didn’t think of who it was or when, you just did it. In the future, that race was going down in history as a masterclass in overtaking and taking every little opportunity thrown your way. The time passed really fast, and when you came to be, you heard Jace screaming in your ears that you had made it. You had made it to P1 and taken the checkered flag.

Your voice was shaky as you thanked the team and Jace on the radio.

When you left, running towards your team, they congratulated you and despite the great desire to run towards Max and Charles, who were on the podium with you, you somehow managed to find Fernando. You ran towards him, jumping in his arms, not even minding the way your helmets hit with a loud thud. He hugged you, removing your feet from the ground.

“Thank you! Gracias, muchas gracias, Fernando!” You shouted hoping he could hear you with both visors up.

He patted your shoulder as you had to run back to get weighted and to post-race interview.

“Wow, I’m at a loss for words right now! You were a true Lioness during this race! Can you tell us what happened after the difficult Qualy yesterday?” Jenson Button was the one to ask.

“I was in a difficult place yesterday, and I’m very thankful for a pep talk Fernando Alonso gave me, that helped me get back into my jam!” You said, breathless, wiping sweat from your forehead, “I’m also grateful to my team for making the car that matched my energy and focus today!”

“And what did Fernando tell you?” Jenson asked, probably out of curiosity.

“Well, I can’t go out telling my secrets, can I? My rivals are all around!” You winked, and left a laughing Jenson behind.

In the cooldown room, where Max and Charles were already watching a montage with all your overtakes on a screen, you walked up to Charles, taking his hand. He looked a little concerned as you had agreed to keep your relationship private. Max joined, patting a hand on your back, and the three of you made a little triangle.

You looked at them with so much adoration, that it hit Max right in the chest and he wanted nothing more than to hold your face and kiss you silly. Charles held his breath for a brief second, being in the moment with the two of you.

“You were brilliant, today,” Charles muttered, low and hoping no mic would catch the sound.

“Unbelievable, Lioness.” Max also said with a discreet wink, then taking a step back and interrupting the moment.

That wasn’t your first podium, nor your first win, but something was different when you kissed the trophy and raised it to the sky. You felt like you’d taken back control of your life and your career. There was nothing that could actually stop you if you put your mind to it, and you knew now. You shitty father couldn’t squander your dreams when you were fourteen, and he couldn’t do it now either. You were so much bigger than him, greater than that pathetic man could ever be.

And you didn’t need him.

You had a mother that, despite not being there anymore, but she’d always be in your heart, a constant source of strength and faith. You had Kimi, who believed you when no one else did, who put his own hand over fire for you. You had Fernando, Seb and Lewis, your idols in this sport, and such good friends. You had Charles and Max, your lovers, and hopefully your future.

That night, as you were laying down in your suite, sandwiched between the two men that stole your heart, came the email with your renewal contract proposition. A five year offer, possible extensions, to make you the face of your McLaren.

You made love with Charles and Max with renewed energy, enjoying yourself and the feel of their love for you. It was just the assurance you needed to say the words.

“I love you. I love you two very much,” you whispered, running your hand through both their hairs, “I can’t promise much right at this moment, like a normal, public, relationship yet, but I do love you.”

“We know. We love you too.” Max whispered and Charles took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“We love you too much to risk you facing awful dangerous things just so we could call you ours publicly,” Charles agreed.

That year, you didn’t get a second championship as you had dreamed, but you proudly stood with your P2 trophy during the FIA’s Prize Giving Ceremony, your chest swelling with pride as you watched Charles’ beaming face with the P1 trophy.

There was some renewed sense of purpose in yourself as you held the trophy, and in your heart, this one meant just as much as the champion trophy you had gotten the year before. This year you had overcome all the demons that had controlled you for a long time, this year you had not only learned to live with the undying love for your mom, but you had also learned about new forms of love. You had somehow rekindled that love for racing, for believing you were the best and could prove it amidst adversity.

And of course, many adversities were still to come, but now you were sure you had in yourself the power to face them.

When the next season started, you had your eyes on the prize.

Even spending a great amount of winter break with your boyfriends, they were still your rivals on track.

You were fixing your suit on the pitlane when they walked up to you.

“I hope you know this championship is mine,” Max said with a smirk. You caught his playful tone fairly quickly.

“Well, I am the current champion of the world, so we’ll see about that,” Charles crossed his arms.

“Boys, no crying when I leave the both of you eating dust, yeah?” You added, biting back a giggle.

“Baby, go easy on us,” Max joked, and you shook your head.

“Never going easy on my rivals,” You added with a whisper, “not even when they’re my handsome boyfriends.”

“See you after the finish line,” Charles winked, and they both walked away.

“Hope you enjoy the view of my rear!” You said, and they left, laughing.

Always rivals, but much more than that.

NOTE: If you want to know why I chose to end the story this way, or have any questions about the characters future, or any random headcanons, drop by my inbox and I'll try to answer most! Thank you so much for the support in this little adventure! Thank you to everyone who dropped a little ask/message asking for more, I'll try and answer you if I haven't yet! (also, sorry if i missed any tag)

TAG LIST: @be-your-coffee-pot @supremebaddietrash @mellowarcadefun @cmleitora @kyuupidwrites @80sloverry @newlifeforus @soulaires @hrrorflm @redwolfxx @icarus-nex @jenniferrvsesi @bborra @leilanixx @hc-dutch @withyoutilltheendodthismess @is-just-a @freetimemachinequeen @saturnchase @butterfly-lover @eddiesbitch83 @elliott-calls @nb26fort @wcnorris @vellicora @mac-daddy-210 @hiraethrhapsody @losore-prone @gills-lounge @enrapturedbythemoon @formula1mount @mightiestheroes @cherry-piee @chezmardybum @whodis-26 @mortallyblueninja @f1mockingjay @dance-the-painting @chanshintien @magical-spit @splaterparty0-0 @maxv33rtappen @heyheyheyggg @mindflay3r @janeholt3 @lightdragonrayne @always-spaced-out @papayatifosi @formulas-bitch @ruleroftheuniverse @raizelchrysanderoctavius @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @alishamai @lanando4 @dark-night-sky-99 @comfortzonequeen @honethatty12 @urfavnoirette

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #lestappen #charles leclerc x you #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #formula one #lewis hamilton #fernando alonso #lestappen x reader #lestappen x you #Spotify

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teddybeartoji · 18 days

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toji is a cat dad. the cat looks so fucking tiny next to him that it's a little comical actually. they spend every morning together – the cat twirls around and between his legs as he's grabbing the food, quietly meowing and purring. toji smiles softly to himself at the little thing's neediness. so cute.

the cat also just loves to follow toji around the apartment. always. he goes to the bathroom? the cat goes to the bathroom. he's cooking in the kitchen? the cat is in the kitchen. he's asleep in the bed? the cat is in the bed. (big man toji stomping around the house with the smallest cat in the world running after him.......... guys i'm melting i'm dying)

ok but he was a little weirded out by the cat's need to be in the bathroom with him lmao. like he's taking a piss and he looks over his shoulder only to find the little kitten just staring up at him with big eyes😭😭😭 toji grumbles under his breath and tries to ignore him but then he ends up looking over his shoulder again, hoping that he left but no. he's still there. sitting like :3 😭😭😭😭

"yer fuckin' weird..." is what toji tells him as he places the cat on the bathroom counter and he just gets a cute meow back as a reply. the cat watches him brush his teeth and toji has to fight the thing because he's now in the sink????? toji needs to spit out the toothpaste but the critter is getting comfortable in the bowl and he actually feels bad abt pushing him away... wahh he's so soft actually guys i can't do this anymore.

if the cat happens to be a big meower, toji's definitely talking back to him. he literally goes "what're ya yappin' about, lil man? 🤨🤨" while looking at the tiny creature. but he loves it, he thinks it's so funny. he picks the little guy up and just stares at him up close O.O (plss the cat is literally like the size of his palm i'm dying it's so cute).

he also likes to carry the cat on his shoulder. i think every cat would actually love toji so much, this is also canon here you cannot argue with me. and i think they'd all find him very comforting? and i think they'd love to sleep on him. so whenever he's cooking and the cat paws at his legs, he just picks him up and places him on his shoulder.

he once did that when shiu was over and he was just ????????? like man what are you doing put the damn cat down ????????? and toji just went. "no. he wants to see." with a blank face. to him it's very obvious. c'mon, the cat is so little, he has no idea what's happening up here, ofc he wants to see??????? smh shiu do better😒😒😒

oh and this was definitely just a stray cat he took in btw. after a long day at work, he was just walking home with a cig between his lips when he heard the teeeniest tiniest little meow coming from behind the dumpster in an alley. and well... the curiosity got the best of him and he went to check it out aaand lo and behold!!!!!!! itty bitty kitty!!!!

big eyes peering up at him behind a thrash bag, he just knew he couldn't leave the poor thing there. he reached out his hand, letting the kitty smell him and he almost dropped his cig when he actually leaned into his touch immediately!!!! that's his baby now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he held the cat to his chest as he made his way home and he even stopped by a little corner store to buy him something to eat. the cashier did look at him with a raised brow bc what the fuck this massive man is holding the smallest cat in the world, but toji didn't mind. he didn't care. the cat slept on his back that very same night.

ALSO. thank u @kentophilia for putting this idea in my head ily<33 during the late hours of the day, toji lays in bed while reading his book with his glasses on – the cat stands on his chest with a determined face. he's already purring even though toji hasn't even done anything. he's just soo comforting and the cat just loves him soooo much okay:((((( toji lowers his book to look at the thing before scratching the top of his head and smiling to himself when the cat closes his eyes and purrs even louder.

the cat ends up trying to make biscuits on him and that makes toji yelp lmao. the tiny little claws dig into his warm skin as the he kneads toji like he's a piece of dough. purring and content – toji doesn't have it in him to make him stop either. it's not like it actually hurts, he was just caught off-guard. he didn't get scared by a cat btw, he didn't. in the end, he keeps reading his book with his one hand while petting the creature with the other. this is their routine. they're family!!!!!!!

anyway. he loves his little kitty cat with all his heart and he would literally kill for him:33333

#TOJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII WITH A CAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT #YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY #YIIIPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #yeah not to be weird but.... in a way this is just moji lmao..........................#and when i say in a way i mean that it is moji #toji #mickey is daydreaming #toji fluff #jjk toji #moji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro fluff

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fooled-around-and-fell · 15 days

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tiny socks and bibs

summary: sukuna briefly hints at the possibility of one day having a family with you, and you tell him you don't want kids pairing: ryomen sukuna x female reader content warnings: just a little angsty, happy end, ooc sukuna, cursing, no curses modern day au -- not at all accurate to the manga/anime ok

Masterlist

-----

Sukuna called you over to hang out at his place today. You never say no, because you love spending time indoors and with him, so you immediately get ready and are on your way. But you didn't expect him to have a baby in his arms as he opens the door.

"Sorry," Sukuna apologizes, "My brother called last minute, I have to babysit him today and I haven't had the chance to tell you.."

The baby keeps slapping Sukuna's face out of glee and you chuckle. Seems like he has been quite busy.

"Meet Yuuji," Sukuna sighs, "My nephew."

You decide to stay and help him babysit his nephew -- you're already there anyway, you're not about to go home just because of this.

"Have you guys eaten yet?" You ask as you take your shoes off.

"No, but Yuuji here just had some milk- ow, hey," Sukuna frowns as Yuuji bites his arm. It doesn't actually hurt, of course.

"I'll make something for the both of us. Can I use your kitchen?"

Sukuna chuckles and kisses your cheek, "Baby, this place is practically yours, you know that."

"Mm, I know, I just like to be polite." You smile cheekily.

You hear gibberish coming out of Yuuji as he reaches for you from Sukuna's arms. You can only assume he wants you to carry him instead.

"Looks like I'm cooking," Sukuna says, passing Yuuji to you, not knowing what to do with a baby in your arms.

You laugh awkwardly and sit by the kitchen island, having Yuuji sit on your lap. He's waving his toy airplane around and you think he's trying to show it to you, but you really don't know what to do.

"Hey, how old is he again?"

"Like almost a year," Sukuna answers, "He's learning how to walk."

You hop down from the stool and go to the living room, where you see Yuuji's toys. Yuuji sits in front of you, giving you his toy airplane before he reaches for the table, slowly pulling himself up to stand.

"Omg," you whisper, hands hovering next to him just in case he falls. "Ryo, he's standing!"

"Yeah, let him practice!" Sukuna says, not even turning around.

Yuuji's hips bounces from left to right, his legs shifting from one to the other because he has trouble distributing his weight and finding balance. You let out a giggle, he looks like he's dancing.

"Auh," Yuuji turns his head to look at you, pointing with one of his hands.

"Sorry, sorry, won't laugh at you again, promise." You grin.

Deciding he's tired, Yuuji drops to his butt and crawls back to you, wanting to ask for his toy airplane again but gets distracted with his other toys on the floor.

"Naa," Yuuji shakes his teddy bear vigorously before biting on the bear's arm, "Naaaa-mm."

You raise your brow at the little kid chewing on his toy. Kids are truly a puzzle to you. They're adorable, but something you'd usually admire from afar. You've never really spent time with a baby before, so this is a first.

Sukuna brings over two plates of food to the living room, turning on the TV so Yuuji's distracted and he can have some time with you.

"Thank you for the food," You smile, taking a bite of what he made.

"Thanks for looking after him." Sukuna smiles back, "You don't have to stay, by the way, he's gonna be here all day... unfortunately."

You hum, "I don't mind. I can also help out."

-----

The day goes by faster than you expected, mostly because Yuuji fell asleep and that also lead you and Sukuna to take a nap. Taking care of a baby is hard, that's for sure. You never thought changing a diaper would be so difficult but it proved to be a huge challenge.

It's around 5pm, and Yuuji's parents finally comes to pick him up. Sukuna sighs in relief, handing Yuuji over to you while he gets the baby's stuff and opens the door.

"Hi Yuuji, ready to go home?" His mom coos, taking Yuuji from your hands, "Thank you for taking care of him."

"And him." Sukuna's brother comments, motioning to your boyfriend, "Be honest, was it like taking care of two babies?"

"Alright, alright." Sukuna rolls his eyes before ushering his family out and closing the door. "Sorry about that."

Chuckling, you stretch and yawn. "It's fine. They seem fun."

"They can be a hassle," He yawns too, yanking you to lay on top of him. "Stay the night?"

"Mm," You hum and nod your head, slowly about to drift to sleep when Sukuna says something unexpected.

"You take care of Yuuji so well," He mumbles, "You'd be an amazing mom one day."

And then the sleepiness leaves you. You know it's a general praise that people give out towards others, but it makes you wonder if Sukuna meant what he said.

No, you don't want kids. Not because you hate kids -- they're kids -- but you really just don't. They look like they're a lot of work and you just don't see yourself being a parent in your future.

But what if Sukuna wants kids?

You've never really thought about that -- not because you just assume that Sukuna wouldn't want kids, but just because both of you haven't talked about it. And from what he said, it sounds like he does want kids.

You slowly get up from Sukuna's embrace, and he has a questioning look on his face. "What's up?"

"Um," You start, "I guess we've never really talked about this before..."

"...Oh, you're right." He says, scratching the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No!" You immediately say, "No, you didn't. I just..." Sighing, you hold his hand and fix your posture so you're facing him. "Ryo, I don't want to have kids."

Sukuna blinks a few times before nodding, "Okay."

"Huh?"

"I said okay," He repeats himself. "Then we're not having kids."

"Ryo, you don't want kids?" You look him in the eye, trying to see if he's lying.

Sukuna sighs with a small smile like he can't believe you haven't figured it out yet. "I don't care about tiny socks, toy airplanes, or little bibs. All I want and need is you."

And it takes you by surprise -- his words, his desire still for you. Because usually when these conversations happen, you end up having to say "it's okay if you want kids, I guess things just won't work between us." and you're not sure what to do when the person you love accepts you for who you are.

Part of you is screaming he might just be saying it to make you happy, while the other part is telling you -- hey, he's straight up telling you he only cares about you. Why aren't you letting yourself be happy? This is what you've always wanted, to have someone love you despite your flaws.

And you laugh with tears in your eyes. "You really mean that?"

"I'll prove it to you." Sukuna says, kissing your tears away. "I'll prove it to you every day."

You smile and caress his cheek. "You're such a sap today, Ryo."

He rolls his eyes and pulls you back to lay on the bed with him. "Yeah, yeah."

Smiling contently, you let yourself be engulfed in his arms, pressing a kiss on the crook of his neck. "Thank you."

"I didn't do anything."

"You accepted me for who I am."

"I've always done that." He responds. "And always will."

You giggle. "Sap."

He only groans in response, burying you even closer to his chest so you wouldn't see the blush creeping up his cheeks. But you can tell by the way his heartbeat races, and it makes your heart do the same thing, matching his pace.

-----

"I'm open to having dogs though." You say.

"Not a chance."

"..."

"Okay, one."

"..."

"But we're getting a cat."

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x female reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x female reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #ooc sukuna #sukuna jjk #ryomen sukuna x reader fluff #ryomen sukuna x you fluff #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna x you fluff

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kooqitas · 2 months

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— beer & brother's friend ... ★

#pairing: seungcheol X reader. #synopsis: your brother goes out to buy fast food, leaving you and seungcheol alone at home. #tags: pwp, vaginal sex, fingering, kitchen sex, spit, creampie. #notes: my first story with seventeen i hope you like it guys!!! #wc: 1,3k

is almost 8pm when you listen your brother laughs so loud, so you go to the kitchen, noticing the all beers bottle that was in the table.

"oh, really guys, did you even call me?"

the first thing that you noticed was how handsome seungcheol looked.

you brother, vernon, and seungcheol was friends a few years, since you and your brother living together, sometimes seungcheol go to the apartament and drink some beers ou watches some movies with vernon.

and yes, sure, cheol always being handsome, and you know that a few months ago he started the gym, you always see his posts on instagram, but damn, his so fucking hot personally.

"so, the princess came to join the commoners" seungcheol played with you.

"i want, but no one invited me..." you pretend a sad face.

"bla bla bla" vernon said. "it even feels like i need to call you for drink"

maybe now, seeing that who is in your home, you probably would dress better, like, the small shorts and thin shirt made you so... basic.

whatever, you take a beer and sit on table with the two guys.

sitting next to cheol, you smell his perfume, damn, he's unbearably hot! it's not like you didn't already know this, but in the last few months he was pushing the limits, having the guy so close to you was making you easily horny.

you drank A LOT a little, the alcohol making you burn every time seungcheol's knee touched yours. the three of you would talk about anything, your brother being visibly the only sober one there.

"i think that i wont see you since you started dating, how's going?" seungcheol questioned, taking a beer in his lips.

"she broke up, his boyfriend cheated her... with her friend" vernon laughed, your brother really gave you all emotional support, but now his just laughs a lot.

"shut up!"

"oh, is real?" cheol questioned. "i'm so sorry for that!"

"she don't care" your brother said again. "she cheated him back... with his brother."

"WITH WHOM? oh god!"

"guys... i'm still on this table..." you said.

"and i'm not!" vernon joked. "i'm taking the fries, give me a second"

so your brother go to cooktop, leaving you and seungcheol alone.

seungcheol had a look that you couldn't identify, but it gave you goosebumps, the truth is that you always had a crush on your brother's friend, but for obvious reasons you had never tried anything, it didn't even seem like something reciprocated.

but seungcheol was so fucking hot, you definitely wanted to kiss him.

"oh... his brother?" he asked, a kinda unbeliever.

"is not a big deal, ok? his fucked with my friend, i just... go deeper... isn't my fault, his brother fucked me too, like, i'm not haved sex alone..."

"yeah, sure, i understand..." his said.

"oh, really?"

he approached, whispering in you ear.

"sure, like, if i was his brother, i wanted to fuck with you too... actually, wouldn't even wait for him to cheat you for that."

cheol laughs, squeezing your thigh in a less than affectionate way, his eyes are dark.

fuck, he was hitting on you?

"guys, the fries burned..." vernon laughed.

"oh, i'm really hungry now..." you said, looking to cheol.

yes, maybe the food that you want its other...

"i can go to the mc if you want!" cheol sayed to you and vernon.

"oh, definitely NO, you are drunk. i'll go, just let me change de clothes."

your brother went to the room, and seungcheol's dark gaze stayed on you, along with the unchaste caress on your thigh, which rose even further towards the hem of the tiny shorts you were wearing.

vernon came back, saying he would return in 20 minutes and asking you not to break anything in the house.

when your brother left, the amount of dirty thoughts that passed through your mind scared you, you knew you found seungcheol attractive, but wanting to take off your clothes and lie on the table asking him to fuck you wasn't the best thing to think about right now.

you got up, going to get another beer from the fridge, but you were scared by the large body that pressed you against it.

"c-cheol, wh-?"

"tell me that your pretty whore face was a request to me, please!"

"my-my?"

"i’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long... and when i found the courage to admit it, you started dating." he laughed with a laugh that bordered on despair.

what do you mean he wanted to fuck you?

“vernon could come home in any min-”

"i promise to be quick, i know you're wet, hm?" he said kissing your neck, pressing his hips into your waist, making you feel his cock. "i've been like this since i saw you enter that damn kitchen, i planned to wait for your brother to sleep so i could come to your room but..." he kissed your jaw, and you were already overcome by lust. "let me have you now!"

you didn't respond, not verbally, you just took his hand down your shorts, showing the damage your own thoughts had done to you.

he was agile in placing two fingers inside your wet hole, making you moan at the sensation.

"are you already open for me, kitty? if you're a good girl now, when your brother sleeps, i promise to come into your room and make you cum in my mouth... but now let me fuck you with my dick, hm? "

"f-"

you don’t even know how he was so fast, but in the next second you felt his cock inside you, spreading you open as he stuck his tongue in your mouth.

his tongue tasted like beer, and you moaned when it came into contact with yours at the same time as every inch of him entered you further.

"tight pussy, but accepting me so well..." he said before thrusting once, the shock of his balls hitting you.

“fuck” you moaned, closing your eyes, planting your nails on his arm. the mix of lust and burning.

"no, princess, look that... you're taking me so well..." he forces you to look down, increasing the speed of his thrust as he lifts your two legs, intertwining them with his thighs.

you are literally open to seungcheol, he pushes you against the fridge while he fucks you, seeming to take away all the time he wanted you, you feel his vision get blurred with so much information.

"i've wanted to fuck you for so long, you finally broke with your pathetic boyfriend."

he pushes you further against the fridge, lowering the strap of your shirt and exposing one of your nipples, seungcheol spits on one of them before starting to stimulate it with his fingers, using the spit to lub.

"you're always going to give me that cunt now, right? so delicious..."

he kisses you, and then begins to stimulate your clit, sloppy circles taking you to heaven and hell at the same time.

"i'll-"

"please smear my dick all over with your cream, love!"

the touch on your clit becoming firmer as he stuck his tongue back into your mouth, and you came..

the laugh he gave when he felt your cum was one of the most exciting things you had ever heard in your life.

"hold on a little, princess." he said kissing his neck and he didn't stop thrusting into you.

and then he came. filling you completely with his cum.

seungcheol continues thrusting for a few seconds, his cum making his dick slide even better.

"we n-need to stop, my brother..."

"oh right." he releases you. "can we talk about this later?" he questions when he sees you heading towards the bathroom, you nod.

and it takes less than two minutes for vernon to get into the house.

shit, you guys forgot to clean the floor.

⸝⸝⸝

🍰 support me on ko-fi

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peachsayshi · 2 months

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I have an a request!!! What about boy dad gojo taking care of his son while his s/o is sick? Maybe he takes him to work and face time her with his son when he has a break or between classes?? And his son misses her a lot cause it’s his first time seeing her sick🥹

➳ minors / ageless / blank blogs dni ➳ tags: fluff; dad gojo and son reader

"mama! wanna talk to mama!"

"easy, tiger," satoru consoles, using his long arm to pull the phone away from his son's grabbing fingers.

"dada, wanna talk to mama!" his son insists, inching his body forward which prompts satoru to adjust his legs so his boy doesn't climb off his thighs. using his other hand, the sorcerer lightly runs his fingers through his child's soft locks to calm down his excitement while and in the meantime taps away at the screen to video call you.

"there you go," he whispers as he brings the phone to his son's line of sight, his heart swelling when you finally answer the call.

"hi," you croak softly, your voice thick and hoarse while you rub your tired eyes. "what time is it?"

"it's lunch-"

"mama!" your son interrupts, his small hands curling over satoru's fingers as he holds both sides of the screen. "mama, miss you!"

"hey, cutie", you reply with a tiny smile, but satoru can see the exhaustion weighing heavy on your face. "miss you soo much,"

you've been sick for the last four days. a terrible cold that's kept you bedridden. satoru and your son have been isolating to make sure that they don't catch what you have, but your boys have been wallowing without you around. your son has been extra needy and keeps bringing up his "mama" every chance he can get. satoru is in the same position as well, hating that he can't cuddle up to you in the middle of the night, or that he can't wake up to your good morning kisses.

"mama sick," your son says with a furrow of his brows, moving his hand over the screen like he's trying to touch your face. "mama get better ok?"

he's still learning his words, trying to form whatever sentences he can with the vocabulary that he has.

you nod your head, "yeah, baby, I'll be better soon,"

your son smiles at the camera, his eyes twinkling with delight. "kisses!" he announces, before leaning forward and pressing his lips onto the phone screen.

you blow him back three kisses in return.

at this point satoru can't help but feel a little left out, so he arches forward to rest his chin on his son's shoulder, the two of them now centering the screen.

it's wild seeing them both together because they really do look like twins. your son's hair stands as a harsh contrast because it is identical to yours, but his eyes are a blend of your love. there's an icy blue that pierces through his natural color on the left side, a unique trait that distinguishes him entirely.

"can I get some kisses too?" satoru pouts at the camera, and your son obliges but placing one kiss on his cheek.

satoru can't help but grin, "thanks, rugrat, but I was hoping the kisses would come from your mama..."

"but mama sick," your son answers nonchalantly, twisting his body slightly so he was turning toward's his father's instead.

"she just blew you some kisses," he answers back with a raised brow. "I can't get any?"

your son blatantly shakes his head no.

satoru deadpans at the phone screen, and you have to use the blanket to cover your amused grin but you clear your throat as a cough escapes you, and satoru can't help but wince.

"how are you feeling? is the medicine helping at all?" he adds.

"yeah, it is. I'm feeling much better today actually."

"there's a pot of soup in the fridge " he continues, his cheeks tinting a slight shade of pink. "I made it last night"

satoru toiling away in the kitchen is a rare sight. the man grew up spoiled, and rarely ever had to take care of himself. you're the only person who knows that the first time he ever touched a stove was in his late teens, with shoko and suguru assisting in teaching him. he doesn't experiment much, but he was able to perfect a handful of recipes over time.

your eyes widen, glisten with absolute love. "thanks, handsome. I'll be sure to heat some up..."

"just want to see you back on your feet, angel," satoru murmurs, and presses his cheek against' the plush surface of his son's. "you've got us pining over here, isn't that right?"

your son nods his head, bringing one hand to hold his father's jaw. "sick bad, want mama t'get better now..." he acknowledges.

(meanwhile, you sneakily take a screenshot of the two of them in frame)

requests are open for dad gojo.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

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oneforthemunny · 2 months

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home is wherever i'm with you |hockey player!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: life on the road during hockey season is far less glamorous than you thought it would be. homesick and lonely, eddie tries to get you feeling better.

also special thank you to @angietherose for the name of the au hockey team :) eddie is officially on the indy reapers! thank you to all who voted as well!

contains: fluff, but there is slight angst at the beginning. mentions of loneliness, a little depression. slight-ish tension or strain on the relationship, but you know i make it happy at the end lol. language.

Pasadena, California - 1993

Day seventeen on your six week excursion with Eddie. Well, excursion was a generous thing to call what this was. You were feeling more like a groupie for the Indianapolis Reapers, a puck bunny as Eddie’s teammates snickered, brows raised in suggest when they’d pass jersey clad girls lingering around their buses. Stop after stop- press, practice, training, games, all over the nation.

A suitcase full of clothes you’d grown sick of already, longing to go home and trade them for something different, washing them in the sharp, sterile detergent of the hotels. You longed for your own sheets, perfumed with your own detergent.

Eddie was gone for most of the day. You tried to sightsee on your own, explore the cities but it was lonely, lacking someone to giggle with over lattes, to hold your hand in the street, just to talk to. The other WAGS that came along, stuck out the long haul across the states, clung to each other, comfortable in their own little clique. You were too new, an outsider to their group.

“Hey, babe,” Eddie pressed the key into the lock, twisting the heavy latch open. “Babe, do you have that stuff? Did you bring it?” He hummed, dropping his bag at the door, kicking off his sneakers.

His nose curled at the pungent smell, ripe from the warming weather of California. “Jesus Christ, I gotta wash this stuff. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in the laundry thing.” Eddie hummed, sliding the slotted closet door open. “Can’t believe how warm it is here already. Feels so nice outside. You’ve been outside today, sweetheart?” He rambled, sweetly, tossing the powdered detergent into the washer, shoving the workout clothes from his bag into the tiny machine.

The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the room, his only response. Eddie’s brows lifted, jamming the button of the washer, sliding the door back into place. He didn’t remember hearing you say you were leaving today, but he had taken a pretty hard hit to the glass during practice, ears still ringing dully.

“Baby?” Eddie called, opening the bathroom door, empty of you other than the scattered products on the vanity. Heavy steps on the patterned carpet, Eddie walked into the bedroom suite, halting at the edge of the crumpled sheets.

You laid on your side, still in what he’d left you in that morning, eyes puffy and red rimmed looking motionlessly out the window. “Hey, I thought you- I was, uh, I was just talking but-” Eddie’s heart beat in his throat, uneasy at the sight of you, crumpled in the sheets. “Are you ok?”

You turned, cheek still pressed to your arms under the pillow, just enough to see him- all wild curls, matted and frizzy with helmet hair. “Yeah,” You croaked, throat scratchy and sore with sobs that had stilled hours ago, still you were plagued with the aftershocks of weeks of suppressed emotion.

“I- I’m not trying to sound like a dick or anything here, but you’re clearly not.” Eddie said softly, slowly approaching the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, a warm hand rubbing over your ankle under the cool sheets.

“Baby,” Your face crumpled at the coo, so sweet, gentle, it made your nose burn. “What’s goin’ on?” Eddie muttered, thumb circling your ankle bone gently.

Your nose burned with a slow, shaky exhale that he felt, rattled all the way down your body under his touch. Eddie’s heart dropped. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie’s voice was softened but sharp, teetering on frantic. You turned, looking at his wide eyes, running over your frame in worry. “What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter?”

Your lip wobbled, head screaming words you couldn’t bring yourself to say- you didn’t know how to say. “I just-” You took a breath, chest stuttering. “I don’t… feel good.”

Eddie’s brows creased, crawling up the bed beside you. “Don’t feel good, like, sick?” He muttered, the back of his hand pressing to your palm. “You don’t feel hot t’me. What hurts? Is it your head still? I told you, baby, that hippie dippie shit only works so much. You have to take medicine-”

“-No,” You shook your head, eyes squeezing tightly to keep your tears at bay. “It’s-it’s not that.”

Eddie blinked carefully. “What? Is it, like, the time of the month? D’ya need me to go get some stuff for you? You know I don’t mind to. Not a problem for me, baby, just tell me what you need.” Eddie’s head tilted to the side, so sweet and doting, it made your chest heat with swarming guilt and adoration.

“I’m not on my period. It’s nothing, Ed.” You shook your head, curling back into your pillow.

Eddie stilled above you. “Are- Are you pregnant?” He whispered.

“No.” You groaned quickly, head shaking into the warmth of the pillows.

Eddie sighed lightly, a huff of relief that fell short, when your body turned from him, back towards the window with a long inhale. “Hey, can you- can you look at me? Please? Look at me, baby.” Eddie’s pitch raised, teetering towards scared, his hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently so you rolled on your back.

He hovered over you, curls falling down nearly brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what’s going on. Please? Tell me what’s wrong.” Eddie whispered, nearly a beg. “You don’t feel good? You don’t feel good here?” His throat swelled, tight with fear. “With me?”

Your silence had Eddie’s stomach twisting, dropping with fear, bile rising in the back of his throat- he was going to be sick, he was sure he would be.

“No,” You muttered, head shaking lightly under the pillow. “Not with you, just,” You reached up, nervously twirling his curl around your finger. “Just with this.”

Eddie swallowed, willing himself still, calm, though his heart felt like it might give out. “This? Wh-What do you mean this?” Eddie’s voice shook.

You blinked up at him, eyes rounding in a sad softness he hadn’t seen before. “I just… I miss being home.” You whispered, eyes glossing with a fresh wave of tears that pricked your waterline. “I miss seeing my friends, and being in my own bed, a-and even work. I just,” Your breath hitched, lip trembling. “I’m just really lonely.”

Eddie was sure his heart did give out, break right in his chest, sunk right to the pit of his stomach. “Do you- You wanna go home?” Eddie’s hand ran down your cheek gently. “That’s what you want? That would make you feel better?”

Your face crumbled, caved into itself at his tone. “I-I don’t know.” You admitted, eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears in. “I don’t want to leave you, b-but I don’t-” You pressed your palms to your eyes, taking a slow inhale through your nose. “I just don’t want to be alone so much. A-And I know that’s not your fault. I know you’re working.”

When your eyes did meet his, Eddie wished they’d stayed closed, heartbreakingly sad, vacant of that light that usually shone through, brightening anything cast in your gaze. “I just… I’m feeling homesick, ‘m sorry.” You muttered. “I just really miss home, and I’m having a bad day.”

“You don’t- Don’t apologize.” Eddie shook his head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.” Eddie swallowed, pulling you up gently. Your body was slack, limp with unmotivated movement, but still, you settled into his arms. The tension in your body melted, nose buried in the material of his shirt, lathered in cologne and the hot California air.

“I have a half day tomorrow.” Eddie muttered, his heart beating fast, you could hear it, feel it. His hand smoothed up your back. “We’ll do something. Go exploring and stuff. Do some fun stuff.”

“You’re ‘sposed to rest.” You muttered, cheek squished to his chest. “It’s before your game, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“Yeah, but that is resting.” Eddie shook his head gently. “I’ll be alright. Promise. Played after way worse. Me and Josh used to come in hungover, vomited on the ice one time.” Eddie’s chest rumbled with soft laughter. “Pretty sure we’re the reason that rule’s in place now.”

Your lips curled, even through your sullen, dazed mood, you couldn’t help it. Clinging to him tighter, you moved into his touch. “Coach just means take it easy like, don’t go get fucked up and actually sleep the night before.” Eddie muttered, chin tucking down onto your head. “C’mon, lemme take you out tomorrow. Me and you. Go anywhere you want.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, sighed gently, settling into his hold.

Eddie was restless through all of morning practice, hands buzzing, ready to run to the rental car at the first dismissal. Shower be damned, he’d take a quick one at the hotel, he couldn’t be held up any longer.

“What’s goin’ on with you, Munson?” Elijah muttered, next to Eddie in the huddle on the ice, the coach’s droning about protocol for the game.

“Nothin’.” Eddie whispered back, twisting his stick in his hands. “Just wish he’d fuckin’ hurry up.”

Elijah’s eyes cut to Eddie, snorting lightly. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Eddie sighed out. “Gotta get back. Promised my girl I’d take her out.”

Elijah’s brows raised. “Shit, you brought her with you?”

Eddie’s shoulders tensed. “She wanted to come.” He muttered defensively. “I mean, she wanted to. Now it’s kinda fucked, she’s-” Eddie’s eyes cut around him. “She’s kinda homesick.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Yeah, that happens.” He fought back a smile. “When’s the last time you took her out?”

Eddie’s eyes cut to him, defensive with accusation. “It’s not like that. I take her out.”

“Yeah? On the off day? After we’ve traveled all day?” Elijah snorted, shaking his head. “C’mon, Munson. Believe me, that doesn’t count.”

Eddie ignored him, gripping his stick with furious annoyance. The fuck did he know? He didn’t know anything.

“Look, I’m not tryna piss you off. I did it, too. Just- believe me, alright? That one day shit doesn’t work.” Elijah pressed gently.

“Hey, I got it, alright? I’m good.” Eddie growled.

Elijah held his hands up in defense. “Alright, I’m just saying, when it was me,” He started. “I wasn’t meaning to. I just wasn't used to it. Had my own road routine and tried to fit her around it instead of into it. Thought it was going good until it wasn’t.”

Eddie stilled, silent but shoulders slumping lightly. “You gotta change your routine, find a way to fit her into it. She’s on the road too, not just you.” Elijah continued.

The coach whistled, waving them in dismissal. Eddie blinked, pulled out of his daze, lifting his helmet and stick with him. Elijah nodded at him. “Have fun tonight, Munson.” He smiled softly. “Make sure you take her somewhere nice.”

Elijah’s words rang in Eddie’s head all the way back to the hotel, only a short drive from the arena. Eddie nearly threw his keys at the valet, sliding into the elevator shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his toes until he reached your floor.

You startled when he came in, sitting at the vanity, doing your makeup. “You’re done already?”

“Yeah,” Eddie muttered, ducking down for a kiss. “Just gotta shower real quick, but are you hungry?” He shimmied his workout sweats onto the floor, kicking his socks off with them.

Your eyes lingered over his bare lower half for a second, turning back to paint your mascara on. “I’m not starving.” You mumbled.

“Alright, good, I was gonna see if we could go to this place. I think you’ll like it.” Eddie grinned over his shoulder at you, the hiss of the shower coming to life. “Some guys told me if you’re in Pasadena you gotta go here.” His smile so wide, eyes sparkling in the dim yellowed light of the hotel bathroom, it made your tummy tingle with warm excitement.

“Promise you’re not looking?” Eddie mumbled, hands over your eyes, waddle-walking awkwardly behind you, pressed close to your back.

“Swear I’m not.” You grinned. Eddie was right, it was beautiful outside. Warm and bright, light illuminating his hands that covered your eyes with a reddish glow.

“I can feel you trying to. Your lashes are tickling me.” Eddie muttered, leaving you giggling. “Ok, just- you know what, this is good enough. I’m scared you’re gonna trip.” Eddie said, lips curling at your soft laugh.

“Are you ready for your surprise?” You could hear Eddie’s grin in his voice, a breeze floating between the two of you.

“Yes.” You giggled, Eddie’s chest swelling at the sound. “Just show me. Your hands are clammy. They’re gonna smear my mascara.”

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie muttered sheepishly, a blush spilling on his cheeks, pulling his hands away so they were still in front of you. “Ok, ready?”

“Eddie-”

“-Sorry, Alright, one, two,” Eddie moved his hands, smiling proudly in front of you, a pinkish looking building behind you. “Here it is! Surprise!”

You blinked. “Oh.” You quipped softly.

Eddie blinked, smile falling. “What? I thought you’d- You don’t like it?”

“No,” You shook your head. “I mean, no, that’s- Where are we?”

“Oh,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Shit, I thought you’d know. Uh, apparently this place is supposed to be like the place for flowers, y’know? Pasadena has that flower festival thing, but it’s not until later and I know you like to go to the cool places, and-” Eddie motioned to the store behind him.

You took in the building, spilling over with plants you could see from the inside. “I, uh, I know you miss home.” Eddie said softly. “And I was just thinking, y’know, we can’t get houseplants like at home, but maybe some bouquets? Some flowers for the hotel room.”

Eddie waited a beat, desperately trying to read your face, eyes wandering over the building and the signs. “I thought maybe you’d pick out some flowers and-and it would make it feel like home.” Eddie’s hands slid down his jeans, hot from the sun beaming on them. “Plus, you wanted to see some around here, a-and y’know… one bird, two stones.” Eddie rambled, shrugging sheepishly.

You felt the familiarity of a cry bubbling back in your chest, swelling and suffocation, only this time the aching of sadness was gone. In its place, a bubbling, burning feeling of adoration was left, consuming you from the inside out with every nervous glance Eddie gave you. He’d listened, really fucking listened. He always did, but this time it was different. Relief, comfort washing over you for the first time in days.

It felt like home.

Like the two of you were back in Hawkins, or Indianapolis even, perusing the usual spots, happy and content to be together in a familiar place.

Eddie wasn’t expecting you to grab him, pull him into you with a fierce, sloppy kiss. Right there on the sidewalk, under the California sunshine. Lips melting into his, clawing and grabbing at his shirt, the back of his neck. Eddie’s cheeks burned bright when you pulled apart, a smile so wide and goofy it made you giggle.

He let you grab his hand, lead him around the flower shop like a lost puppy, picking out anything and everything that made you smile. A bright bouquet spilling out beautifully in the green vase, made just for you.

You sat it right on the small bedside table, beaming at how it livened up the room. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or you. Either way, it revived you, made you happier and giddier. Made the sheets of the hotel less cold when you slipped beneath them, legs tangled in his, pinning him under you onto the stiff mattress. It made the room brighter, spilling with a new fragrance that felt familiar.

It was small, a miniscule way that meant the world to you; made you feel at home. Eddie knew it, planning how he’d do it with every next city, until you finally got back home.

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killerlookz · 1 day

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hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!

Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)

Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein

description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.

content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference

word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)

/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/

Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.

You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.

You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.

"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.

"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.

"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.

"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.

"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."

You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.

"It's just my roommate-"

Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.

He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.

It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.

There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.

You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.

Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.

"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.

"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."

A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.

There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.

Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.

"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."

"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.

"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."

"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.

"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.

"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"

You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.

It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.

You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.

"Does that mean you're coming back here?"

"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."

A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.

He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.

So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.

Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.

Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?

But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.

A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,

"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,

"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.

"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.

The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.

The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"

"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"

You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.

Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.

He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,

"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"

Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.

And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.

"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."

"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.

"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."

"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.

"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."

He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.

He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.

"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.

The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand

"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)

"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.

Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.

He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.

If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.

Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.

A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)

You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.

/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #rpf #joost klein x you #joost klein fanfic #joost klein fic

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agirlcandream84 · 3 months

Text

Frank Discovering He Bruised You During Your... Activities.

Back with another Frank drabble. What can I say? Frank + Angst = Comfort. I'm imagining when Frank discovers that he's rougher than he realizes.

Frank Castle x Reader

----------

If he was honest with himself, Frank had noticed you seemed to be moving a bit more tenderly than usual. He asked you about it this morning when he saw the way you lowered yourself on the couch, wincing just a hair when your body made contact with the cushion.

"You ok there sweetheart?" he asked, with his brows all screwed up.

"Oh yeah. Just went hard on the Peloton or something," you respond not meeting his eye. You hadn't even ridden the Peloton that week but if Frank had known that the sheer force of him the night before had left you tender and swollen, he'd be beside himself. And it's not as though you wanted it to stop anytime soon. So you had decided to keep it your little secret. Hiding the bruises blooming on your inner thighs were gonna be another challenge altogether.

When dinner rolled around you were out of your work clothes and into your comfy clothes-- Frank's old T-shirt and your comfiest cotton shorts. Frank had just made a pot of his spaghetti and you were both planning a night of carbohydrates, wine and Love is Blind.

"Grab the wine glasses, will ya doll?" Frank calls over his shoulder as he plates the spaghetti. You open the cabinet where they're kept and let out a tiny huff. Top shelf. This burly man was always putting items on the top damn shelf. Either he was height-blind or he liked seeing you struggle.

You lift one knee onto the countertop and reach your fingers toward the stem of the glass. Straining as your fingertips wiggle, your big toe the only part of you left on the floor as your ass sticks out and you grunt for the glasses. Franks hears your struggle and turns around, walking over the the cabinet.

"Right, I forgot you're a shortstack," he chuckles, his body enveloping yours from behind as he reaches with ease to the glasses. His hands land on the swell of your ass as he steps back to admire the view-- your one knee still propped on the counter, tiny shorts hiked up.

Bruises on your inner thighs made visible.

You instantly see the smile drop from his face and his fingertips land feather-light on your inner thigh and he squats on one knee.

"Shit sweetheart, you're hurt," he says softly. 'You get all this from the Peloton or somethin'?" he asks, looking up at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Uh, I.. yeah, I think so," you mumble, dropping your knee from the counter and tugging your shorts down. Frank remained on one knee and placed a hand on your hip to keep you in place, his other hand touching the blooming bruise on your other leg.

"Sweetheart... did I ... did I do this to you?" he asks, disgust creeping into his voice. It was the reaction you were desperate to avoid. Frank's self-loathing was always rippling under the surface, easy access.

"Frankie I bruise easy. I have my whole life. This is noth--" you start to ramble. Talking to make his guilt go away. It had taken so long for him to be vulnerable again-- to let you in. You weren't letting anything set back the clock.

"Sweetheart this ain't nothin'" he cuts you off, "I fucking bruised you. Like an animal." Frank was always so comfortable hating himself. He drops his hands from your body and stands, a sharp breath through his nose and he swipes his hand down his face.

"Frankie it's nothing. I mean it," you tell him, eyes pleading for him to crawl back from his self-loathing.

"Why didn't tell me? Why didn't you tell me I've been hurting you?" he asks, the anger at himself seeping in through the edges.

"Because I.... I---" you stammer, unsure how to stop this runaway train. Pleading in your head "no, don't pull back."

"Are you afraid of me?" he asks, misinterpreting your hesitation, his self-loathing dripping off every word. Like he was disgusted to exist in his own body.

"Because-I-don't-want-anything-to-change!" you blurt out in one garbled word. "I don't want a single thing to change! I don't care about the dumb bruises! I love the way you make me feel! Just stop. Stop pulling away. I can't go back to that time. I can't go back to you killing yourself on the streets every night" you shout at him, pleading and grasping at anything to just get him to hear. To understand.

"Hey hey hey," he says, hands up in supplication before landing them on your shoulders. You lean into him and slow your breathing as he shooshes you, broad circles rubbing your back. You stay like that a few moments. Neither of you speaking.

"I know, ok? I know how hard that was for you. I'm not... I'm not gonna do that again," he assures you. You nod your head against his chest, muttering a thank you. "I don't like hurting you though sweetheart. It kills me to see those fucking bruises on you," he adds.

You pull your head from his chest to look up at him. "I know... but I just want you to make me feel good,'' you practically whisper, hands digging into his shirt in fists. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, letting your body melt into his.

"Fuck sweetheart," he huffs, lifting you gingerly as he carries you to the bedroom, promising to make you feel good.

-------

ok lol got that out of my system.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fanfic #frank castK #frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n

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getosbigballsack · 4 months

Text

Just imagine getting punishment and having sex with Yakuza Gojo inside the bathroom.

Nothing you love more than to feel your husband's hands caressing your soft, subtle skin beneath the shower.

His lips moving along side your neck, tasting every drop of water from the shower, breathing in the scent of your cinnamon flavored body wash, hands fondling and gropping your soft tummy.

And his cock, hard and rubbing between your wet backside, you just needed him. "Daddy, please fuck me," you muttered impatiently, only to receive a firm slap on the plush skin of your stretched marked ass and his teeth sneaking into your neck.

"What did I say about begging?" He asked, his hand connecting with your ass once more, watching as the skin rippled from the impact. Your body jolts from the harsh slap, hips thrusting back against his as you cry out in pain. "Mhm... what did I say about being impatient?"

"Good... *slap* Ah! Good girls don't beg unless... unless Daddy wants her to. *slap* Mhm ah! Good g- girls should all... always be patient and wait for Daddy to give her *slap* her reward," you stuttered in response.

He smirked and pulled away from you, "That's right," he mumbled as he pushed you up against the cold and foggy bathroom shower glass. Your nipples grew hard from the cold sensation seeping through your body. "So why are you testing my patience?" You had already pissed him off earlier by walking in on his important meeting, and when he asked you to leave, you were just so rude and out of order. Almost throwing a tantrum for no reason.

He was going to scold you about and let you off with a warning, but then you had to go ahead and did something he taught you not to do unless he ask. You deserve a bit of punishment.

It's a bit normal for you to get punished. People thought that being a Yakuza's wife meant that you could easily get away with minor things. But that's far from the truth because one thing your husband taught you, even the simplest fuck up can get you in trouble.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, but knowing him, you know, sorry is not good enough. You weren't being Yakuza Gojo’s good chubby wife, so now he has to punish or, let's say, reward you with maybe five spanks on each ass cheek.

"Count," and that word had you trembling before he even began. The first slap had your whimpering. The second slap had tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. The third slap had you crying out for him. It was already too much for you, and he only spanked your left butt cheek thus far.

"Daddy, I'm sorry *slap* four, I'm sorry," you cried out.

"Mhm... next number," he said as he soothed his hand over your ass before delivering another spank. You cried, butt cheeks clenching tightly in hopes to soothe the pain. But you know it's useless, not when he's already moving onto your right butt cheek, to deliver another set of fives.

By the time he was done, he could see his hand prints marking the surface of your skin and those tiny welts forming. Your ass felt raw from his spanking, and it stung too due to the water from the shower connecting with your ass.

"I'm sorry daddy," you said once more, feeling his hands caressing your swollen tender ass before parting your butt cheeks to get the most perfect and precious view of that perfect fat cute cunt.

"I hear you," is what he said before lining up his cock with your aching entrance. "But no apologies accepted, baby. Daddy has to ensure that his adorable wife learns her lesson, yes. Don't you wanna be daddy’s good girl again?"

"Yes, I want to be daddy’s good girl."

"Then relax and take your punishment," he said before pushing his cock pass the tight rings of your pussy, thrusting deeply until his cock was poking at your cervix. "Oh, and you won't get to cum ok."

God, I just love Yakuza Gojo.

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru

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simpjaes · 4 months

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I saw this tweet and thought: WHAT IF, instead he’s watching you scurry off to change out of your wedding dress after getting married to his best friend(your choice…) into your outfit for the celebration/dinner, and he’s had a few drinks, feeling emotional after watching the girl of his dreams tie the knot with the luckiest man in the world. he follows after you and sneaks inside of your dressing room surprising you right as you’re unzipping your wedding dress, and he’s like “let me help you.”

even better if *cough* you don’t want his help, because he’s always been a little too touchy with you, stares too long, says inappropriate things whenever his best friend steps away….

😁🤔👀

first of all, fuck you.

obv my choice will be jay in regards to his best friend. we knew this though, didn't we? warning: dub con, reader is a cheating whore with no excuses so don't come at me. wc: 1.5k "let me help you-"

you know jake though, with his obliviousness to how obvious he has been over the years of your relationship to your new husband. The marriage is a mere hour old by this point, and it makes you roll your eyes.

After all, you knew he wouldn't give up on you, despite the sheer amount of rejections you threw his way. Jake is a go-getter, it's one of the things you loved about him.

Unfortunately, he is also a never-give-upper. Which is endearing at any other time, you know, when you're not at the other end of it. With a goddamn ring on your finger that spells his best friend's name and money.

"I'm ok, Jake. You shouldn't be in here." You say, concentrated on contorting your arms in a way to reach the zipper right at the middle of your back.

"Relax, I'm not going to do anything." He counters you, covering your hand with his own over the zipper, overtaking your hands and helping you to grip that tiny piece of metal, running it down below your ass, due to the style of dress. "Unless you want me to." He adds, holding the zipper in place and pressing himself against you with little to no hesitation.

"Jake, I'm married." You argue, trying to shimmy out of his grasp but offering him a nod as a form of appreciation for his help.

"And?" He ticks his tongue, stepping back and stuffing his hands in his pocket as he leans against the vanity in the bride's dressing room. Pretty, extravagant, far too expensive for his taste. "Nothing has really changed, you've just got a ring now."

You roll your eyes, laughing at his audacity.

"You really have to stop with the flirting at this point, if Jay finds out that after all these years, you're still-"

"He won't find out." Jake smiles, cutting you off and tilting his head at you, allowing his pretty hair to ruffle itself against his forehead. "Not unless you decide to tell him and fuck it up."

"Fuck what up?" You ask, still in awe at the fact that he's literally Jay's best man, yet still not laying off of you, even on your fucking wedding day.

"This thing, that I want from you." He smiles wider, pushing off of the vanity and walking up to you and your slouched wedding dress. "And that you want from me."

You give him a sort of "what the fuck?" look before feeling his hands slouch the dress more, down your shoulders to the point you have to hold it up at your chest to keep it from sliding off of you.

"And just what gave you the idea that I want it from you?" You ask, stumbling back and away from him, trying to ignore the taste of his scent on your lips, the heavy cologne musky and very similar to your new husband's.

"Are you wearing Jay's fucking cologne?"

"Technically, Jay is wearing my cologne." Jake laughs, closing any distance you create with him. "Why? You like it?"

Unfortunately, yeah. You do. "Jake. Stop." You warn, stepping back yet again, knowing that the wall is a mere foot away, and there's not much space left to run from him. He's being far more persistent than usual too, which is...dangerous. "Stop what?" He laughs, giving you the same "what the fuck?" face you previously gave to him. "Talking to you? My best friend's wife? My favorite person for making him so happy?" Jake scoffs now, not letting you respond. "Just let me help you get the fucking dress off, god. I said I wasn't going to do anything." And, well, you relent. Choosing to trust him at this moment given his serious and spiteful tone. The last thing you want is anyone being annoying at you on your wedding day. The issue is that, he helps a little too much. Sliding the dress down with concentration in his eyes, a flicker of arousal perhaps at seeing the lingerie you have under it from the waist down. The invisible, skin toned pasties covering your nipples to avoid any type of malfunction if some child were to rip your dress down. "Unless you ask me to." Jake now says again, gripping your hips and holding you in place in front of him. "And if it's the last thing I'll ask you before your wedding night is over, it's this." You stare at him in both shock and amazement, unable to respond to his audacity at this point. "After tonight, you'll be-" He stutters his words only for a moment, stopping himself from speaking too much from the heart. "Just.. let me see what I'm missing." He groans as he speaks, leaning forward and dropping his forehead to yours, hands dropping dangerously low to the lingerie you put on for your fucking husband. If you had the energy to fight him off, you're not sure if you would, in all honesty, and there's no excuse for it. "I want to know why he married you." Jake continues trailing his hands, especially when you only shift your face away from him, but not your body. "wanna see why he suddenly stopped sharing." You're a little shocked by that statement, learning on your wedding night that apparently your husband and his best friend seemed to have shared girls in the past. "Jake-" You breathe, feeling his palm reach a space that only Jay should be able to touch. "We really can't. Not on my wedding night, not in the fucking venue. They'll wonder where I am." "No they won't." He smiles, pressing his palm harder against your center, cupping you firmly to the point of almost lifting you from the ground entirely. "They trust you." Arguably, he's right. But do they trust him? Probably not, and honestly? They shouldn't. "Just this once, let me show you what you're missing." He comments now, speaking out to the room more than to you at this point, pressing you flush against the wall and dropping to his knees.

And you know, maybe it's the love in the air, or maybe it's the lust or overall rush of emotions of tying the knot with a man you love, surrounded by faces you love equally if not more on a level further than romance. Then again, maybe not.

What would ever allow you to not push away? When Jake falls to his knees, pressing you against the wall with his lips already against the front of your panties, easily lifting your legs over his shoulders and forcing you to fucking balance on him or else you'll fall.

Forcing you to fist his hair into your hands for balance, really. You can feel the way he laps away against the panties Jay was supposed to pull off of you tonight. Soaking them to the point that you soak them further.

Just, right there through the pretty white lace, now semi-transparent against your freshly waxed pussy. All for the fucking wedding night, not for Jake.

Still, you can't deny the feeling. The arousal. The pining you previously had for Jake all throughout your relationship with Jay. You always ignored it with ease, but now? With him being so forward despite the warnings? Despite the rejections?

It's a one thing and done.

"Jake," You sigh out, gripping his hair so tightly you fear you'll lose the feeling of his tongue against you. "Don't tell anyone-"

You felt his chuckle before you heard it, his head pulling back with glassy and glistening eyes staring up at you as you balance with your legs wrapped around his neck.

"Baby, the only way you'll keep my mouth shut is by sitting on it." He whispers fondly, still blinking at you innocently.

And well, for the sake of your relationship, surely not because you want it, of course not. You do just that, with his hands holding your legs more tightly than Jay ever has, burying his tongue into every nook and crease your heat could ever offer to him. It's insane really, that it doesn't end there. And it feels like hours pass by the time you manage to stumble out of the room in the proper attire, with Jake's flushed cheeks and crooked bow tie....and his, um, emptied balls....

And you. Fucking filled to the brim with another man's cum, feeling it drip down your legs under this long and pretty maxi-dress as you approach your new husband with a warm smile.

Do you feel guilty? Yes.

Will you always feel guilty? No.

Why?

Because missing out on that? The way Jake panted and moaned into your mouth? The way his hands squeezed? The way his cock pulsed? It's something you think you deserved to feel before you were forever barred from anyone else ever again.

Despite already being barred. You feel satisfied, now knowing what it could have been, but still accepting the fact that Jay is the man you love. Even if he'll never see the bridal panties you intended for him to take off of you.

#jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #hardthots #drunkhazed #youre my favorite person thank you

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thebearer · 6 months

Text

rosé flowing with your chosen family | carmen berzatto x reader|

anyways here's a blurb inspired by my lil friendsgiving i hosted and how i think it would be with carmen bc im delusional in my head lolz

"Carm, look at this for me." You frown, turning the bronzed pumpkin at the center of the table.

"Yeah, one sec," Carmen muttered, turning with the pot in his hand, stirring the whipped potatoes vigorously. "What am I looking at?"

"The table." You tilt your head to the side. "Should I just move the pumpkin? It's too much with the candles, right?" You huff, the tapered candles flickering in their brass holders.

"No, baby, looks nice. Leave it. We can move it if it gets too crowded." Carmen hummed, a tiny curl of his lips had your heart swooning. "Need to go get ready. It's six-thirty."

"I just have to put my clothes on." You wave him off, fixing a napkin so it was centered on the plate, each place card in it's assigned place. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

Carmen shot you a look, rolling his eyes playfully. "No, I got it, alright? Go get ready." He shook his head gently, pushing the asparagus around in the pan.

You scurried behind him, pinching his jean clad ass gently, grinning at how he jumped before pressing a kiss to Carmen's cheek that left him blushing.

Your first Friendsgiving hosted at your place. An apartment a little bigger than Carmen's old one, but still cozy and all your own- the two of you. What better way to spend your first holidays together than to invite your friends over?

You were fussing over the glazed carrots on the counter when Sydney arrived, always early. "Hey," She crept in awkwardly into the kitchen, her head poking around the corner. "I, uh, I brought a dessert."

"Wow, that looks amazing." You grin, taking the dish from her, hugging her briefly in greeting. "What is this?"

"It's-"

"-It's a champagne cake with whipped butter cream frosting and a light raspberry spread." Marcus finished, stepping in behind Sydney, balancing a bottle of wine and his coat. "Don't let her take all the credit. I made it."

"Ok, well, I told you to add the raspberry-"

"-Well, I was the one who made it and added it-"

"-Alright." Carmen huffed, his voice edging on the tone he used at work. "Glad you both are here, alright?. The cake looks amazing."

Marcus whistled dramatically, peering over at the food laid out on the counter tops. "Looks good in here, Chef." He grinned.

"Thanks." Carmen muttered, brushing the rolls with butter, checking the oven again.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" You ask, pulling the fridge open. "I have rosé or wine or anything?"

"I'll take a glass of rosé." Sydney nodded, shedding off her coat and hanging it over the back of the couch.

"Yeah, better get some now." Carmen snorted lightly. "Before Alicia comes."

"I have her a backup bottle." You smirk, pulling out the bottle proudly. "Alicia and I were watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills reunion, right? And she-" The door closed and you turned, your best friend walking in with a huge grin.

"-And she literally brought her own bottle of rosé." You laughed, shaking your head at her.

"I did." Alicia beamed, hugging you tightly. "Carmen, I promise I will not throw up or sob on your couch this time. I'm very stable now." She grinned at Carmen's huff of laughter.

The kitchen was packed, crammed at the table, laughing and swapping stories over the food. Carmen looked at you, the glow of the candles you insisted having to make it feel more homey- they did. How you were grinning, laughing at Fak and Richie bickering, giggling to your own friends and reminiscing.

For once, the holidays didn't feel like a chore. Carmen had been dreading this dinner, not the cooking or the setting up, but having people in his space. He didn't dare say anything, you were too excited and he'd never ruin your glee like that. Still, for him, the holidays were chaotic, everybody tense and scared.

Not here.

Not next to you, surrounded by all your friends.

Carmen finally got why people loved the holidays so much, why it was the most wonderful time of the year and all that. In his tiny apartment, sitting next to the love of his life, your hand holding his gently under the table, thumb swiping over his knuckles, squeezing it lightly when you'd look at him, eyes crinkling in a smile.

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erinfern0 · 5 months

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Hiii💖 i love ur hcs about ghost😍 will u do more of them as their relationship goes further like moving in together then proposal and stuff like that please🥹🤍 if not that's ok have a great day/night💕

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

warnings: mostly fluff and comfort. there's also some smut. brief mention of anxiety, nightmares, and simon's past.

a/n: gosh, that's so nice, lovie!! have a wonderful day/night as well! <3 i think ill make one more post like this with husband!simon separately, so stay tuned if you're interested!

bf!simon who can't believe he's so lucky to have you. he didn't even believe you the first time you agreed to move in with him. you were just probably talking about how empty his flat is whenever he's deployed and he made a comment, something along the lines of "Wanna live there while I'm gone?" so casually you take it as a joke. But the more you two think about it, the more reasonable it sounds.

bf!simon who can't stand the idea of you denying him, so he doesn't ever bring it up again, just slides the keys to his flat with a note, written in his neat handwriting: "Make yourself at home, you practically live there already." You couldn't stop smiling as you grabbed some of the most important things into a bag and left your apartment.

bf!simon who finds you at his your shared place, sleeping on the couch. Before, whenever he thought about anyone being in his private space without his supervision made him crumble inside with anxiety, but now, as he looked at you sleeping so peacefully, he felt like his flat was finally more homely than ever.

bf!simon who adores how warm and cozy it is after he helps you move all of your stuff into his flat. Your little collections, blankets, books, hobbies, and snacks are splattered all over it, reminding him how close you two are every second.

bf!simon who quickly understands your routine and tries to find as much time to share with you. Oh, you have a slight break between your dinner time and reading time? Well, now you spend this time together.

bf!simon who becomes way more talkative and open about his feelings. Yes, it does take him a while, but he's not as emotionally unavailable as people believe him to be.

bf!simon who struggles to sleep sometimes, too caught up with his past and present fears/worries/anxieties. As soon as you move in, he finds sleep to be easier, calming even.

bf!simon who gets so grumpy whenever you try to leave bed early, he can't help but reach out and pull you close to himself, sometimes just lying on top of you to keep you close to him for as long as possible.

bf!simon who willl encourage you to work out with him. He prefers to do it by himself at home rather than going to an actual gym, so he loves it when you join him or just watch him from afar.

bf!simon who finds your presence to be overwhelming at times, but never takes it out on you. He's so used to living by himself that it's hard for him to switch so quickly to having someone around all the time, as soon as his back from deployment.

bf!simon who easily shares chores between the two of you, always putting a little more on his name, because you already do so much when he's away.

bf!simon who makes you a fresh cup of your favorite drink before he leaves the lat to run errands in the morning. Usually makes you breakfast too, adding some tiny notes to make your day a little better before he's back.

bf!simon who eats a lot to keep his form, so he always has something for you. It just feels weird to eat by himself when you're around, so he always has some snacks for you or will just share his meal with you.

bf!simon who likes to help you cook, but never does it purely by himself. that's a fire hazard right there. Yeah, he can chop some veggies or help you with the seasoning, but nothing more.

bf!simon who thinks sex is a great thing, helping people connect but doesn't ever pressure you into it. If you find intimacy to be difficult for you, he'll find other ways to make you feel good.

bf!simon who (with given permission) will keep you in bed for hours, kissing, touching, grabbing, caressing. Sex with him is slow, passionate, and breathtaking in the softest way possible, he's such a gentle lover he makes you feel heavenly.

bf!simon who can't help but fall more in love with you every day you live together, especially when he's back from another mission and can just rest in your arms, with you reminding him how much he means to you.

bf!simon who wants to marry you so bad it practically hurts, because he knows how much weight it can put on your shoulders. He doesn't start the topic before you do, too anxious to admit just how much he's scared of losing you or scaring you away with too much commitment.

bf!simon who caresses your face as you two fall asleep and realizes it's too late, he's already swooned by you. You have him wrapped around your finger and he just craves to have another reason to call you his.

bf!simon who comes back from running errands and sees you cooking. It's probably not the best idea to interrupt you like this, but he just can't hold back, fear cannot stop him all his life.

bf!simon who asks you if you'd like to marry him, but not proposing. He wouldn't surprise you like this, out of nowhere. He actually wants to hear your opinion and how you feel about it.

bf!simon who almost breaks down in tears as he hears how happy and excited you got. All dinner you talked about everything involving your life after marriage and he just smiled the whole time, mesmerized by you.

bf!simon who proposes to you a few months later, after you've talked everything through and both of you are sure you want this.

fiancé!simon who knows you so well, he buys you the most perfect engagement ring you've ever seen and it matches you so well. What surprises you is that he gets another, way simpler one for himself that he wears when he's home and hangs on his neck as he's back on deployment.

fiancé!simon who doesn't dream of a big wedding or anything, all he wants is to see you in the beautiful and cute outfit you chose and to say his vows and to finally say yes. He wants a civil marriage, but if religion is important to you, he doesn't mind your wedding happening at the church.

fiancé!simon who's amused by the way the rings shine on your fingers as you hold hands. Suddenly, he's more clingy than ever, having his hands on you all the time.

fiancé!simon who reminds you how much he loves you every day, but usually it's non-verbal. You don't have to hear it to know it. The way he holds you, takes care of you, helps you, supports you, looks at you - it's way more than enough.

fiancé!simon who can't stop imagining you in more lewd scenarios every day, always bringing his ideas up to see your reaction and is willing to try anything.

fiancé!simon who usually makes love to you, but after he proposes he finds new strength and courage to be rougher if you want. Now, you have days when he'll just fuck you the way you need or want him to, making sure you're comfortable every step of the way.

fiancé!simon who definitely had you on every surface of your shared flat. In the shower, bent over the kitchen aisle, on the couch, against the wall. He'll tease you about it too, especially when you get creative and figure something out yourself.

fiancé!simon who trusts you and is willing to give you some control in the bedroom. He starts to love the way you know exactly how to take care of him, his needs, and his body and he admires it more than anything.

fiancé!simon who might get a little insecure at times, looking at you from across the room, trying to figure out if he's not wasting your time. He wants to hear you say you want all of this, that you want him.

fiancé!simon who plans every little step and wants you to participate in planning. He hates the idea of taking the lead as surprising you with anything. That might not end well and he just wants you to be happy.

fiancé!simon who finally introduces you to his team, proudly looking at the ring on your finger, earning a ton of congratulations and questions from them. It's almost overwhelming how excited they all got, especially Johnny.

fiancé!simon who is secretly very happy to see you befriend his teammates, how much they treat you like a family member already. Because that's what you all are to him - a family he never thought he was going to have after what happened.

fiancé!simon who practices his speech in the mirror, trying to make everything perfect, because that's what you deserve. He rewrote it so many times, now the whole thing is engraved in his mind just waiting for the right moment.

fiancé!simon who doesn't find thinking about the future so terrifying anymore, that you are his future.

masterlist | request info

#simon riley cod #simon x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost #cod mw2 #cod mwii #gender neutral reader #smut #fluff #comfort #headcanons #cod headcanons #riri writes

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