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silent-sanctum · 3 days

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Moral of the Story - 6!Taro x Reader

hello again everyone and likely to dear anon who requested the last fic! Like I said yesterday, this is the "sad ending" version of the one I wrote because of sudden, bittersweet angst cravings~

Also, this is a continuation of another fic I wrote which I'll be linking here. I recommend reading that one first if you want additional context and more pain, but it's just bonus content. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

word count: 4k

Something wasn’t right when Jotaro opened his eyes.

As far as he knew, he should be out there getting his daughter out of jail. But then, the enemies grew smarter than he would’ve expected and they found out how to beat him at this Stand game through unfair exploitation.

Like DIO did years ago, his minions found a way to follow in his footsteps.

Then he’d find himself getting shot with multiple bullets and end up devoid of anything as his Stand and memory discs end up getting stolen by another Stand user working alongside the other. This is it. Jotaro was about to die but then Jolyne would be out, escaping into a Speedwagon-sent submarine, so why would he matter by this point?

And he was ready to accept death right then and there.

Only that wasn’t the case.

Instead, he woke up to a relatively warm environment, with walls that appeared to be fashioned of clay and wood instead of concrete and steel. What a strange place for souls to end up in. He wasn’t overly superstitious but there were at least some expectations to be made when arriving in the afterlife- white walls? White floors? Make everything white and shiny perhaps?

Jotaro peeled the sheets off him and went to stand, and that’s when he noticed his outfit. “What the,” he should be wearing his snakeskin pants and purple coat, but it wasn’t. It was his black school slacks and shoes, paired with the customized gakuran that came with it.

“What the hell?” He stood and stalked over to the nearby mirror and that’s when he froze on the spot, not wanting to believe that this was happening to him. The figure staring at him from the glass wasn’t the 40-year-old marine biologist with a doctorate, but the 17-year-old punk delinquent from high school.

His hair was back to its lengthier curls, the gray streaks of older age gone and replaced with youthful jet-black, and his eyes less baggy and shadowed from chronic stress. Even his hat was the ripped black visor instead of his newer purple one.

The muffled laughter and chatter of a gruffly old man and two other men could be heard out his door. It can’t be them. Joseph was too old and senile to hold a straight conversation, Polnareff went off the Foundation’s radar years ago, never to be heard again, and Avdol died with Kakyoin and Iggy.

That’s what happened but why are they out there? As if nothing happened? As if they were still on this death journey to Egypt?

What is this? Jotaro gritted his teeth. What sick joke are they playing with me?

“Oh, Jotaro-ssi! You’re up! Rest well from your beauty nap?”

His heart stopped, the air leaving his lungs in one sweep. That voice… No, no, no it couldn’t be. It can’t- Jotaro slowly turned his head to the sound and upon seeing the source of it, he could’ve just buckled right then and there. Not like this.

There you were, peeking through the door with one raised brow and familiar coy smile. He remained still, not wanting to believe in the psychosis some fucker decided to place on him. But the door opened and you walked into the room, alive and well, dressed in your customized school uniform complementary to his.

You paused before him and looked up at him, tilting your head. “Is something on my face? Why are you looking at me like I’m a ghost?” You said that as a joke, but his eyes swelled with tears. You raised your hands and waved them in his direction, trying to be spooky. You smiled cheekily. “Am I scaring you now?”

Unable to hold it in anymore, Jotaro pulled you into a tight hug and buried his face into the crook of your neck, sighing heavily as tears spilled out his eyes and onto your uniform. “Jotaro-ssi?”

You were here.

Moving. Talking. Breathing. Alive.

And the most fucked up part of this was that Jotaro knew this was just a ploy an enemy user did to play with his psyche, but did any of that matter when he got to hold you in his arms again, feeling sorry for everything that had happened.

Sorry for being unable to move. For letting DIO carve that slash deep into you and letting you get buried underneath the rubble. For being unable to get you proper medical care when he found you after the battle.

For him to cradle you in his embrace, crying in agony as you died in his arms that night.

“Hey, are you okay?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, patting his back reassuringly.

“J-Just… be quiet for a moment…”

You leaned your head against his and felt your fingers card through his hair, the movement soothing his already tired soul. “… Alright.”

Jotaro wasn’t an emotional guy but with all the stress built in him over the years, he’d at least deserve to let out some of those pent-up feelings before it consumed him from the inside.

Eventually, he calmed down and eased himself back into his default stoic state with you sitting beside him, your thumb caressing the back of his hand in small circles. What part of the journey was this… memory set in?

Acting like he didn’t spill tears moments ago, he said through a sniffle or 2, “Damn, my head’s hurting like shit again. Care to remind me what happened yesterday? And what were we supposed to do today?” Jotaro, having phased out of his rebellious era, hoped he could mimic his teenage behavior without thinking he was a middle-aged man trying to be hip.

And even if you did show some suspicion, you smiled and put on that pouty expression you’d use to fake whine at him. That paired with crossed arms made it more painfully endearing. “Of course, your head would hurt. You cried. And to answer your question,” you leaned over to him until your face was inches away from his. “Today’s the day after you kissed me. Don’t try to act cool now and pretend it never happened.”

Jotaro pressed his lips together and balled his hands into fists, willing his eyes to suck in a new batch of tears, more so when you scrunched your face with your rose cheeks, upturned crescent eyes, and giddy chuckle. “O-Oh.”

“As for today, Mr. Joestar said someone’s got a lead on where that dome building is located, and at first, all of us were supposed to interrogate said person but Avdol and Pol said they got us covered. So, in the meantime, we have the day to ourselves.”

He turned to the clock above the door frame. 8:00 AM. A day to ourselves? Jotaro didn’t know when he’d return to his old body. He didn’t even know how the passage of time worked when one��s mind was somewhere else. But if he were to follow his hunch, today could be the only day he’d stay in Cairo.

Then the next, he’d find himself back to god knows where in Florida. Probably still rotting in Green Dolphin Street Prison from what had happened.

“Y/N,” Jotaro started, looking straight at you with determined eyes. “Let’s walk around Cairo.”

You stared at him with widened eyes, caught off guard by the sudden proposal. If he was still 17, he could’ve smirked knowing you were always the one to suggest what they would do for the day. But this was different now.

He wanted to cling to the remaining time he was given and hoped to whatever higher deity that time would slow down enough for him to spend every limited moment with you while he had the chance. “We’re going to fight like hell tomorrow so… we should do some stuff for ourselves before then.”

“You know, I was supposed to suggest that because I thought you’d prefer staying in and resting, but I like that you’re the one offering the ideas sometimes.” You stood and Jotaro followed after. “Well? Let’s head on out then! Who knows how many unexplored shops, sites, and dishes await us?”

---

At this moment, all that was in his head tunnel-visioned to following your footsteps alone, and although he couldn’t stop whatever bullshit could happen, he could only hope that nothing would jump out from the shadows to ambush them.

Regardless, Jotaro kept up with you as you visited nearly every store within the capital city, and just as he had remembered, there was that special gleam in your eyes as you strolled down the streets with eager awe. It would send sharp pangs through his chest every time you’d turn to him to announce where you went.

And he can’t help but wonder if, in some other universe, you’d still be this enthusiastic in your 40s. Of course, not to the same extent as you were now. You’d be milder, more toned-down, yet still wide-eyed and curious. Never tired of seeing the world around you. Never settling for the same old thing.

At the thought, Jotaro couldn’t help but close his eyes and smile at the image of an older you tugging him with your arm linked with his, only for that one moment of happiness to turn into a pick into his heart.

Stop daydreaming. Stop doing this to yourself.

There were many things he wished he’d done with you. Not that he didn’t want to do it, but in the context of their situation, he’d figured those stuff could be done later down in the line after saving his mother and killing the vampire. But even then, would his past delinquent self be confident enough to do such things?

If he recalled correctly, Jotaro never did anything the day after he first kissed you. All he knew was that he remained passive, only ever following you around just like he did now without doing much, stubborn enough to hold onto his tough guy act.

I could’ve done better then. But he only had today to make up for it and make everything count.

Jotaro got into an even stride that matched yours, and with you beside him, he brought out one hand from his pant pocket and let it hang by his side. Then there was the faintest brush of your hand against his that sent goosebumps up his arms.

He breathed deep as his heart fluttered and his fingers twitched, tempted to move to yours. Why hesitate again? Just do it. Another deep breath in and he let his hand dart to your side, brushing against your skin.

And in the next second, he found your fingers interlocked with his, your hand firmly in his. Holding it like this, he grew aware of how small and delicate your hand was compared to his. With a gentle squeeze from his part, he mused at how soft it was too.

Both he and you looked away, flustered yet giddy deep down as he felt a smile bloom on his face. To hold you like this…

Jotaro never let go as you both continued to visit whatever boutique or restaurant they could try out. He allowed you to pull him inside booths and stores, excited to test out unfamiliar items with him.

He became a willing participant in this tiny quest you set for yourself and in the process, let all of his default stoicism down to shower you with all the affection he had in him that he could no longer give the next day or any day after.

And he stayed true to his word throughout the day. He’d offer compliments and witty remarks about every article of clothing you tried on, share and offer portions of his meals to you, rest his chin above your head, and hold your hand down the streets of Cairo.

These weren’t enough. Deep down, Jotaro knew these gestures weren’t enough to compensate for the years you would never get to live with him.

But just as the day was about to end, he realized there was one thing he could do.

“Y/N,” he said that brought your attention to him. “I have something to do. You have to come with me.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Hm? What is it? Did Mr. Joestar say something to you while I was away?”

Jotaro said nothing as he dragged you with him to his destination. You were kept in the dark as he continued to lead the way through the streets until stopping at a random spot by the road, flagging for a passing taxi to pull over. He ushered you inside and followed after you.

“Where to?”

“Up north,” Jotaro said, confusing you further at the lack of a specific place. “I’ll say where to stop.” The driver, growing uncomfortable with his sharp glare and crossed arms, said nothing but an “okay sir” and drove.

“You’re being oddly secretive right now,” you said. “But seriously though, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“What do you mean?” Jotaro placed an index finger to his lips and remained silent for the rest of the ride. This would trigger some suspicion from you, but given that you still complied with his requests, you continued to trust him on where they were headed.

He informed the driver to stop at the incoming curb in what he assumed to be around 30-45 minutes. Both of you stepped out after he paid the driver for his service, and if his memory served him right, he should be picking up a faint yet distinct sound.

And he did.

“This way,” Jotaro said as he turned to walk towards the sound with you following a step behind. They walked past several smaller buildings, veering off the road and onto a paved path. As they reached the first set of stairs, Jotaro paused and allowed you to step forward.

“Where- Oh!” You didn’t finish your sentence as Jotaro bent down to lift you into his arms with one hand securing your back and the other underneath your knees. He stared down at you and huffed at your flustered face looking back at him. You began to fiddle with your fingers. “What are you up to exactly, Jotaro-ssi?”

“Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“Do it or I’m not moving.”

“Okay, alright!” You said, whining as you placed both hands over your eyes. “Here. Is this good?”

“Mm.” Jotaro watched you for a minute more to make sure you weren’t peeking through your fingers, he held you firmly in his carry and walked down the staircase.

It didn’t take too long to get down, for his shoes to hit sand instead of solid concrete. You shifted in his grasp, noticing the change in environment. “Hm? This sound… Waves? Are we…?”

Jotaro took a couple of steps forward and stopped. Slowly, he eased you onto the sand, and with your hands still covering your eyes, he reached up to grasp them. With his guidance, you lowered your hands and opened your eyes to the warm sunset sky and shimmering sea. He moved over to the side enough to gauge your reaction from behind.

And just then, his heart fluttered and bloomed at the sight of your beautiful wide smile, pink-dusted cheeks, and sparkling eyes. “Woah, so pretty!” Jotaro smiled, refusing to tear his gaze away from you, wanting to soak all of your happiness into memory. “How’d you know this would be nearby?”

Jotaro had returned to Cairo years after the trip and only after thorough research on the place and on-site work for the Foundation, did he discover the place. Ever since then, despite the beautiful scenery, he’d walk across the sand devoid of awe and filled with regret and longing. But he couldn’t say that. “I’ve been wandering.”

“But, the promise said beaches in Tokyo,” you said, cheeky. He rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. Always teasing until the end, huh? “You’re lucky I’ll take this, but you have to take me to a beach date when we get home in return and many more after.”

His throat clogged in on itself and an overbearing amount of sadness gripped his core at the hopeful mention of a future you’d never get to be in. Although painful, Jotaro kept his cool facade on and said, “Already demanding more? Why am I not surprised?”

“Come on don’t lie to yourself,” you glanced at him with a curled lip and raised brow. “You’d still take me on that date no matter how much you say otherwise.”

And I’d take you to more if I could. “Who knows…”

You left it at that and returned your attention to the ocean. With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, wrapped an arm around yourself, and said, “This feels so nice.”

Jotaro watched you as you said this and only now did he observe how small you were compared to him. A part of him always wanted to know what it felt like when he’d remember the number of couples standing like this on the seaside. He always thought it was too corny and boring back then but after years of thought and reflection, he wasn’t that opposed to the idea.

And while he had the chance…

Without you noticing, he moved one step forward and raised his arms to pull you into a soft embrace. Oh… this- this is what it feels like… Jotaro could feel the sting in his eyes coming again as he held you this tenderly and so with a heavy exhale, he closed his eyes as he allowed himself to just... feel.

He felt your hands come to overlap his. “Jotaro-ssi? You’re much more affectionate today,” you giggled. “Is it my birthday or something?”

He shook his head, refusing to think about birthdays never to be celebrated. Struggling to keep his composure, Jotaro muttered, “I’m just… I just-” I wish it could be like this.

“Speechless too? Aigoo this won’t do.” You stepped back just enough for you to turn around and wring your arms around his shoulders. In return, he placed his own around your waist. With a smile, you got on your tip-toes and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’m not expecting too much but I got to admit, I can get used to this. I’m just waiting for a snarky reply to top all this off.”

Jotaro, through his unshed tears and cracking heart, smiled and cupped your cheek. You kept your gaze on him as you leaned on his palm and nuzzled against it. “And ruin the moment? Not this time.”

“Well, how about you kiss me instead?”

He scoffed, albeit with a curl of his lip, and pulled you closer to him with one arm. He guided your face up to him and he leaned down until his nose grazed yours and his breath fanned your lips.

One hooded look from his to yours sent you the signal for you to reach up and close the distance between you.

---

It’s been a while since you had soaked in the beauty of the setting sun, and hours have passed until the night neared its end. For a brief moment, the two of you met with the Crusaders and in that short window of time, the group had engaged in a lively conversation mixed with talk about the mission.

As the clock struck 11:30, you and Jotaro returned to your shared room and agreed to settle for the evening.

And here you were, lying beside him under the sheets in the dark, awake like he was. Both faced each other with your arms tucked between your chests, while Jotaro’s arms wrapped around you- one underneath your side and the other draped across your waist.

“Tomorrow’s the day, huh?” You said as your fingers fiddled with his faded top. “After tomorrow, it’s over. We can go back and do what couples usually do. Go to school together, go on dates, celebrate each others’ birthdays, and much more.” In the dark, he could hear the bashful smile blooming on your face as you listed all your wishes to him.

Jotaro didn’t say anything, his heart growing heavier with each passing second, but he nodded regardless.

30 minutes until midnight… And then…

“Y/N,” he said quietly and you replied with a curt “hm?”. “Can I ask something?”

“You rarely do, so of course you can.”

He swallowed and continued, “What if… whatever we have now doesn’t work out in the long run, would you be upset if I somehow end up with someone else?”

You tilted your head. “Strange of you to ask on our first week of dating but I guess it’s better than late.”

“Would I be upset?” You shook your head. “Why would I? I don’t control how you get to live your life. If you find happiness in somebody else, then that’s good. If life says it’s not us, then it's alright.”

“You go be a successful man, marry someone worth your love, start a family, and live a long life,” you chuckled under your breath. “Would it be weird to say that I see you'd be the type to be a girl dad? I don’t know… I think seeing a little girl version of you running around would be cute.”

“But you asking that doesn’t mean you get a free pass to forget me that easy. Whatever I said just now is also my dream, alright? I want that for us,” You said. "And I know you’re rolling your eyes thinking about how I’m being a blabbermouth again and I'm being too romantic, but you know me by this point.”

You said all those with a lighthearted spirit, meant to tease and have fun, but all it did was cause a tear or two to roll down his face as he gazed at you. He didn’t know how long he had until he couldn’t hold it anymore. Jotaro could have had that with you- to marry you, spend much more time with you, be family with you… if only he did better.

He should’ve done better.

“Yah, don’t tell me you’re sleeping already.”

He ignored the wetness trailing down his face as he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I listened… don’t worry.”

“Good,” you said as you burrowed close to him, nuzzling against his chest. “Or else I’m going to be extra annoying about it.”

He let out an empty chuckle as he hugged your waist tighter and nudged you closer until he could bury his face in the crown of your head. “I’m used to it.”

“Professor Kujo’s Stand disc has been retrieved. An agent is reportedly heading over as we speak. Prepare the patient now.”

His chest caved at the faint voices echoing in his head. Jotaro can hear them. His time here is coming to a close.

He’s about to wake up and you’d no longer be in his arms.

He held back a pathetic whimper as he took a deep breath in and let out a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry.”

You hummed. “Sorry for what?”

For what’s to come. For not fighting hard enough. “For everything.”

A hand caressed his cheek, moving slightly down to rest on his shoulder. “I’m not sure what you’re apologizing for, but whatever it is, I’m sure it’s nothing too bad. So I forgive you.”

He could feel his consciousness fade and wither as the distant voices and mechanical noises grew louder by the second. Whatever strength he had left was spent holding you as tight as he could before all of this would be over. He didn’t care if he began to sob or if you became aware of it.

He needed to feel you tonight before letting you go one last time.

“Jotaro-ssi?” He made a sound in response as he fell closer and closer to the void.

And the last thing he could linger on before then was you pressing yourself close and wrapping your arms around him with three closing words.

“I love you.”

---

“Is the patient ready?”

“Yes, doctor. Although, something peculiar happened.”

“Complications?”

“Not that. Just as the agent handed over the disc, the other nurses noticed that Professor Kujo seemed to cry while comatose indicative of the tears streaking down his cheeks.”

“Peculiar indeed. Reports said his memory disc got stolen too so he shouldn’t have any recollections about the past.”

“Perhaps it’s from supernatural causes? Or maybe it’s simply from the heart?”

“It doesn’t matter. Let us insert the disc now and spare the conversation later.”

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jotaro kujo #see what happens when a writer reads too many angst fics in her life #she BECOMES a writer of angst fics

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just-slightly-chayotic · 1 year

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hate to admit the fact that ingredients made me cry, but i'm blaming everything on jeff so it's fine. if he cries i cry. that's just how the laws of physics work (or whatever. i'm a humanities major. don't ask me sciency stuff)

#also you lot were right and the ending is actually fairly happy??#i was expecting it to be more bittersweet still #baz and i got distracted halfway with looking at jeff pictures but sfjdbdhdk we finished it #it was good!#only because jeff is in it though #otherwise i wouldn't have cared one bit i'm not gonna lie #ingredients the series #i'm only tagging it for spoiler reasons just in case #tea's ramblings #EVERY TIME I TYPE 'TEA'S' NOW THE FIRST THINK THAT SHOWS UP IS #love on saturn tea's brain #EVERY DAY I AM CONFRONTED WITH MY OWN TYPOS #THING* GODDAMNIT TYPOS AGAIN #i give up #this is my official 'i have finally watched ingredients' update for tumblr btw

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procrastinationaccount · 1 year

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I'm going to lose my fucking mind

#For context: I was going to make a post complaining about how lesbians don't have enough good musical theater duets #(like we have the love songs from 'The Color Purple' which're alright but doesn't match the passion or desperation present in the book imo #'Changing My Major' which is a great love song but doesn't hit that sweet duet spot #'Dance With You' and the last verse of 'You Happened' from The Prom are sweet but the girls barely get to actually sing about each other #Honestly 'Oh Well' from Love In Hate Nation comes closest to what I want but it ends on a bittersweet note unless you see the show live #If only Elphaba and Glinda were canon...#But anyway. I can't believe that there's an adaptation of The Color Purple coming in the year of our lord 2023 and this is #how they're talking about Shug Avery. Her *role model*. Lock up your *husbands*. Ick. Pfaff.#I mean they're going to be gay. You can't get around that. But Shug is the love of her life. Can we please talk about that in the character #Don't mind me I'm just over here overreacting #From what I've read one of the biggest adaptational changes in the musical is her reaction to Shug's affair.#Like in the book Shug is the one light in her life. I sobbed myself to sleep over her nosedive in self-worth when they took a break #In the musical she's just...fine with it? I get why that's more satisfying emotionally but I still think it undermines their relationship #I don't get the curse thing either. I'm a little fuzzier on this part but in the book doesn't she just leave him and she's able to thrive?#Then when he asks her to get back together she's able to just know that the worst with Shug or alone is better than the best with him?#This book man. I hate that there isn't an adaptation as devoted to the Celie/Shug relationship as the book is.#Hate that the only recommendation I've seen calling it a sapphic book was from someone who thought that Celie's letters were to her lover #I remember watching this steamy adaptation of a Shakespeare play in soph Eng and seething because they only kiss once in the 1985 movie #Ig I can't expect too much from 1985 but...it was in the book! It was one of the most important parts! They don't even live together in it!#This was all to say I wast a lesbian 'Green Green Dress' a lesbian 'Home' a lesbian 'Natasha & Anatole' a lesbian Legally Blonde finale #The list goes on #I'm sure The Color Purple (2023) will be a good adaptation and movie. I will not pop blood vessels while watching it.#Maybe I should just avoid press releases and the movie will surprise me in a good way.

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meeep-mop · 8 months

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This just in: Kevin is now my lil blorbo. My little skrumpl.

I still hate his guts, and I want to "hug" him so fucking badly-

But he's just,, a smiley blorbi guy. He make brain go brrr when not-... well- y'know--

#I might've stumbled across a comic that made my brain go insanely brrrr #i need more fanfics of him now-#the whole dessert bluffs arc is just- GRRRRARRARARAAHAHAHAGAGAGARRARGHRGRGRHRGARA y'know?#it just hurts so good #wtnv #kevin wtnv #i mean i still love my boi cecil. always will. but kevin- he's jus- my poor boi 🥺#I wanna hug them both. but I just want one of them to be hugged for the rest of their life! that's all! :D #wtnv spoilers #FUCK I MISSPELLED DESERT FML IM SORRY GUYS!!!#tho- desert bluffs IS kinda like dark chocolate now that I think about it.#because you expect it to be sweet the first time you experience it...#only to find out that the truth that sits just beneath the surface is much more bitter than you expected.#also because it's bittersweet.#desert bluffs #kevin desert bluffs

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laurelwinchester · 2 years

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oh no it was actually pretty good lol

#listen i will defend this prequel until either it dies or i die #(because as a general life rule i find the wisest choice is to do the exact opposite of what the spn fandom is doing)#but i wasn't expecting the prequel to actually be this intriguing #but they did the bittersweetness #they know that every love story is a ghost story #it was clunky as 90% of pilots are and unfortunately it does have a certain amount of the cw cheese oozing from it #(although not nearly as much as the last five years of spn)#but the story has more potential than i thought it would and the actors are much better than the trailer led me to believe #and at its core it seemed to acknowledge the number one thing that it needed to acknowledge in order to hook people:#this show is a haunted house #fate has already been sealed #the train has already left the station #what's left is to fill in the blanks #and also dean was there and seeing him did indeed feel like going home #so looks like i'm here for the initial 13 at least #we'll see how it goes #i'm still hoping it gets darker though #and it needs more gore #spnwin #the winchesters

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bluerosefox · 2 months

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Bittersweet and Sweetheart Exes

12 am brain rot

Can...

Can I get an AU where Talia, Danny and Bruce dated each other and later break up? Maybe have them meet when Bruce is in Batman training years and its a whirlwind romance between the three. Like we know how Bruce and Talia are together as exes (both a little toxic to each other, a love hate kinda thing and yet still have something) BUT Danny is the ex they always are sweet for, like he is the one they love flirting with when they see him (Talia more so regardless where and when, Bruce can only openly flirt as Bruce/Brucie, he has to be sneaky when Batman)

I want Talia and Bruce both trying to one up each other for Danny's attention. They know he's Phantom btw, and his human side as well. They however don't know he's also the Ghost King (in training at the time) Danny keeps forgetting to mention it.

Oh, oh. Let's have the Batfam find out due to a cult summoning, like someone in the League is trying to usurp Talia's rule (I want LOA leader Talia) and Damian is taken by them (which means Talia, Bruce, and the Batfam are coming to save him) and they try summoning the Ghost King to try to offer Damian as a sacrifice for power in order to take over the League.

Both Bruce and Talia weren't expecting to see their ex appear in a swirl of stars, aurora lights, and galaxies with a crown to match, a cape that looked like it had a cosmos swirling, and a Kingly outfit though.

(Or if we wanna make it extra funny, why not have them both had dated Danny at different times, and didn't know they are all exes to each other until Danny goes "DANNY!" "Talia? Bruce? What are you both doing here?" "Wait you know him/her? How?" "....Yes? And well...I dated them...")

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theemporium · 5 months

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this is a wee blurb because I keep seeing that orange peel theory video with the shitty boyfriend and I just know my boys wouldn’t be the same! and it’s a wee post exam/hiatus treat so enjoy!🫶🏽

series masterlist

“Baby?”

Charles let out a hum, tearing his eyes away from his laptop to where you were sitting by the kitchen counter. From his angle on the couch, he couldn’t see the way you had set your phone up against a pile of aimless files and data you had been reading over. Nor had he realised the way you were trying to hold back your smiles.

“I really feel like an orange,” you continued once you had his attention.

His brows furrowed together as he perked up a bit. “Oh, do we not have any more? I thought we bought some the other day.”

“No, we do,” you said with a wistful sigh as you reached over to the fruit bowl to grab an orange. “But…”

Charles frowned a little as he moved to stand up. He still didn’t seem to notice your phone, his eyes and attention fully on you. He made his way towards the counter, leaning over the other side as he noted the way you looked down at the orange.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He murmured, his voice sweet and soft.

You turned to him, holding the orange in one hand. “Peel it for me?”

Charles looked down at the orange before his face broke out into a grin as he took the orange from you. He didn’t even hesitate as he began to peel it, his fingers working aimlessly before the fruit was peeled completely. With a proud look on his face, he handed you the orange.

“You didn’t even question why I asked you,” you mused as you took it from him, not hesitating to tear the orange in half before handing him a piece.

“You asked me so I did it,” he said with a shrug before popping a piece of orange in his mouth. “Why is that so shocking?”

You shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”

“If I ask you to peel an orange, would you peel it for me?” He asked, a cheeky smile on his face almost like he expected you to scoff and roll your eyes.

“I would,” you replied with a soft smile, and his expression brightened.

“Oh,” Charles grinned. “So we both passed?”

Your brows furrowed. “Huh?”

“The test,” he said like that explained everything. “The orange one. We both passed, right?”

“I—” Your lips parted as you stared at him in shock. “You knew?”

Charles giggled as he rounded the counter, his arms winding around your waist. “Of course I do, baby, I saw it on TikTok weeks ago.”

You blinked. “Oh.”

He snorted as he leaned down, pecking the corner of your mouth before placing a kiss on your lips too. “Max is rubbing off on you too much, you should actually watch the things I send you,” he muttered, amused.

“I do,” you replied weakly, but you both grinned in response.

“I’ll peel as many oranges as you need me to peel,” he murmured against your lips, enjoying the way your cheeks heated beneath his touch.

“That could be a lot of oranges,” you replied, though you’d come to enjoy the way Charles made your heart pound.

“They’d be worth it for you, amor,” he stated simply in response before leaning down to kiss you again, the bittersweet taste of oranges on both your tongues.

#charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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chuluoyi · 6 months

Text

the birthday boy

- fushiguro megumi x reader

your boyfriend is indifferent towards his own special day, but with you, he actually finds it worth celebrating

genre/warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff with a teeny weeny dash of angst

notes: loosely based on this fanart. pls just give my boi back gege you awful one-eyed cat how could you hold him hostage even on his birthday

listen to: sakura koi by mosawo don't mind me i just get all soft for this poor boy *sigh*

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Megumi never really liked birthdays—his own birthdays, specifically.

"Come on, Megumi... just what is it that you want for your present?" you pleaded, pursing your lips together as you faced your boyfriend. "I don't want to give you a surprise only to find out it's not something you'd enjoy!"

However, ever since Gojo went and took him in, ever since he began attending Jujutsu High, and ever since he started dating you, to his chagrin, everyone started making a big fuss over it.

With the straightest face ever, he glanced at you and muttered, "I'm telling you, you can get me whatever."

"That's not an answer!"

"Seriously, you can pick anything. I'm good with anything."

You huffed in exasperation. "You're so unbelievably uncooperative, sheesh."

"On the contrary, I think I'm being quite amiable," he deadpanned. "You don't have to think about it that hard."

In a way, you should've expected this. Your boyfriend was never one who made a big deal over anything, and he probably meant it when he said that he was good with whatever. Your soft boy was just wired that way.

Meanwhile, to Megumi, his birthday was more of a remainder of good old days he spent with his kind sister and Gojo—when times were much more simpler. When Tsumiki was still alive and well. Call him an emo, but he was just feeling bittersweet.

Tsumiki would craft him this makeshift party hat, and Gojo would get him an overly sweet birthday cake with an even more over-the-top frostings. They'd join in singing him happy birthday, and Gojo's singing would be intentionally and especially awful while at it.

But now that he thought back to it, he kind of missed those times.

You threw him a narrowed-eyed look. "Forget it, I half-expected this anyway—" but then, suddenly struck by an idea, you exclaimed, "—oh! Wait, I know!"

Your enthusiastic exclamation caught his attention, and he silently observed as you furiously tapped away on your phone, scouring Google for standard gift ideas for boyfriends.

For the next half-hour, you continuously sought his feedback on each of suggestions. However, Megumi only nodded or agreed with evident disinterest, which didn't really answer your question at all.

“You’re seriously going to be like this, huh?” you sighed, frowning in total indignation, but in your boyfriend’s eyes, you were the height of absolute cuteness.

As you grumbled inwardly about how dull he was, Megumi wore a small smile. Truthfully, if asked, his ideal birthday would revolve around spending time with you. You didn't have to lose your head over this.

Needless to say, you were still trying to make it an event to remember. And Megumi knew, because you were so obvious it was giving him secondhand embarrassment.

"Itadori! I'm telling you—" you were rebuking a sheepish Yuji on broad daylight regarding which color for balloons to be placed in the class on the day of his birthday. Earlier, he saw you and Nobara huddled together, talking about cakes and pastries, then also animatedly discussing with Inumaki, Panda and Maki, pulling out all the stops for a celebration plan without missing a beat.

Megumi could only facepalm at your attempt to maintain secrecy—in which you were failing miserably, almost as if you hadn't really made an effort at all.

"Isn’t it nice, Megumi?" suddenly Gojo slid beside him, with a stupid grin on his face. "Someone who exclusively goes this far for you, hmm?"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Ha! Don't be shy," Gojo barked, leaving him with a friendly pat in the back before stalking away with a snicker, and Megumi wasn't the least bit amused. He was certain that at least, Yuji and Nobara would tease the heck out of him after all was said and done due to your antics.

Even so, he didn't have the heart to stop you, appreciating your well-meaning efforts. He felt somewhat soft too inside, as he didn't expect that there would be someone who cared about this way too much like you did. Just it felt strange—

—because last he remembered, the only person who was hellbent on making his birthday a nice memory was Tsumiki.

. . .

So you were organizing a surprise party for him alongside others. Megumi already knew that, he had anticipated it and frankly, he didn’t actually expect much, but when he actually stepped into the classroom and was greeted with a literal bang, confetti, colorful banners, balloons, and a crowd of well-wishers, he was floored.

“Fushiguro! Happy birthday!”

“Look happier a little, would you?!”

“Look! Look! We got you a cake!”

Yuji and Panda almost hugged him—but before he could, Megumi shoved them away, Nobara handed him a paper bag tied with a pretty bow with a cool smile—believing her gift to be the best, Inumaki gave his hand a shake, and Maki wished him only the best.

All of this was within his expectations. He knows, and yet…

"Hey, Megumi! Smile!" your voice stood out the most, along with your widest smile, beaming and gesturing towards the camera as you were about to take a group picture.

Megumi swore his heart skipped a beat. His pretty, sweet girlfriend. Your affections reached him, and it dampened the hardness that he always carried inside his heart. In that fleeting moment, he felt you were radiant, just like the sun.

Then he turned his gaze and found the person he knew he could never thank enough in this lifetime. Gojo, for the first time in a while, wasn't the clown he made himself to be for his sake. Standing with crossed arms, he quietly watched over him, nodding towards the camera as well with a meaningful smile.

Megumi felt warm, he felt loved, and he wouldn’t admit it, but this might be the best day of his life—surrounded by you and his friends like this. And he actually felt more than just that, but no words could do it justice, because nothing could have ever captured the overwhelming fullness inside his chest.

Tsumiki... You see... I'm doing well, you know?

Later, after all festivities are done, you managed to pull him into a secluded corner of the dorms to give him your one-of-a-kind gift, while fidgeting nervously.

"What is it?" he questioned, gaze squarely fixed on you. "At this point, there's no need for you to be this nervous. Nothing could've surprised me any more than Panda's giant panda earlier."

You laughed, recalling how he nearly got squashed by the life-sized stuffed panda earlier, but then you averted your gaze, feeling your face flush and turning into the cutest shade of pink.

"Well! To be fair, it was because you were so uncooperative when I asked what you wanted for your gift! And since I have gotten you the cake, I figured it'll be fun if you want to play this game..."

You huffed, and Megumi simply blinked in confusion when you handed him five pieces of papers—tickets? He turned them over to find the words "Free Pass" written on each one.

"Sooo you can use each ticket to ask me to do anything! Anything at all, be it me dancing to the worst song you can think of, or whatever!" your cheeks were burning so hard, but your resolute gaze kept him captivated as you continued, "So yeah, you get five free passes to make me do things I wouldn't normally do."

Lips pursed, eyes sparkling, cheeks ablaze. All in all, you were irresistibly adorable that Megumi had this overwhelming urge to scoop you up and put you inside his pocket if he could.

And really, free passes? Did you not consider the numerous exploitable loopholes he could subject you to?

"Okay, here, I want to use my first ticket."

"Huh! Already? What is it?"

He chuckled then, his lips tugging into the warmest of smiles, and you felt your heart soar, seeing that rare carefree expression on him.

"I want to kiss you."

#fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #fushiguro megumi fluff #fushiguro megumi x y/n #jjk #megumi fluff

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monzabee · 6 months

Text

what you do to me – lh44 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where Lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely.

Pairing: lewis hamilton x fwb!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: angst, feelings, friends with benefits relationship, smut!, slight choking, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), slight manhandling?, pwp, minors dni!!

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! my boyfriend forced me to watch hellraiser the other day, and there was this one scene that i could just not thinking about so i wanted to write something inspired by it, and who better to write it about than sir lewis hamilton?? also, i reaaaallly wanted to write a friends with benefits thing and it was so much fun, i honestly wasn’t expecting. the title of this fic is actually a john legend song that i love and i think it fits the vibes for this fic, so please feel free to give it a listen if you're interested! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

It’s a shame Lewis doesn’t spend more time in his Monte Carlo penthouse during the season because it’s a space he enjoys spending time in so much. He doesn’t mind being alone in his home – if anything, it’s refreshing after spending so much time being the focal point of so many cameras during the season. Also, technically, he is not alone he supposes; he has Roscoe to keep him company when he’s home, after all.

Coming home from a successful season is rewarding, he feels as if he’s deserved the rest he looks forward to. On the other hand, coming home from a not-so-successful season? Well he feels like shit – both mentally and physically. That is not to say that he doesn’t appreciate the time off, though, he is more than happy to not drive for weeks and just enjoy the winter break. Coming home is also always kind of bittersweet. He catches up with some of his friends he didn’t have time for during the season, his family who always support him through thick and thin, but most importantly he tries to make time for you and your… well, arrangement.

He knows something is wrong the minute you reply to his text about him being home. A simple okay is not a response he is used to getting from you. Alas, he shakes off the unease and chalks it up to a hectic day on your end. The pitter patter of Roscoe’s paws on the hardwood floors is enough to distract him from the situation, given the fact that the puppy is impatient for his dinner and is looking at the driver with pleading eyes.

“Okay ‘Coe,” he mumbles as he motions the kitchen with his head, “let’s go.”

The way Roscoe wobbles towards the kitchen brings a small smile to Lewis’ face even though he is still hung up on your answer. After he’s done feeding the puppy, he decides to grab a quick shower to ease the tiredness that comes from a long travel day. The hot water cascading down from the rainfall shower does a good job of taking care of his sore muscles, and he is more than happy to stay under the warm water if it means the soreness will go away. That is until he hears banging coming from his front door. He has every intention of just ignoring the person on the other side of the door; however, as the knocks get more and more persistent, he gets out of the shower with a groan. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he marches towards the front door, and looks through the peephole only to end up opening the door quicker than he would’ve liked.

His voice is confused as he mumbles out, “Lovey?” But you just straighten up from your position of leaning against the wall and throw your bag on the floor as you push your way through his apartment and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches as you attempt to hide yourself in the crook of his neck, and he is not sure what he’s supposed to do with his hands for a moment. “Hey,” he calls out softly, “what’s wrong?”

You pull back slightly to look into his worried eyes, “Just kiss me.” Your voice comes out somewhere between a whisper and a sob, and you can see the hesitation in Lewis’ eyes, but you just pull him towards you as you press a soft kiss on his lips, “Please.”

“What happened?” He tries once again to get an answer from you, but you shut down his attempt as you press your lips against his once more, more assertive this time. And who is he to deny you your wishes? So, like the perfect gentleman he is, he reciprocates your kiss with a one of his own as he wraps his arms around you to signal you to jump. Thankfully, you are so tuned with each other that you end up jumping up anyway, and he picks you up as you wrap your legs around his hips. Closing the door, he starts walking back towards his bedroom as your lips start moving more frantically against his own. “Slow down,” he warns, pulling back to give both of you a chance to breathe, “we have all night.”

Whining at the loss of contact from his lips, and you let your dissatisfaction known by attempting to roll your hips against his bare stomach, “Don’t wanna.” There’s still a lingering sob in your voice, but it is more reflective of the neediness you feel now that you have him between your arms – and legs. Lewis lets his hands roam down towards your ass to give you a warning squeeze – a one, maybe you would’ve been threatened by it if you weren’t so lost in him at the moment. You try your best to ignore the look he gives you, one filled with sternness; so instead, you move your lips downwards towards Lewis’ neck with another roll of your hips. “I missed you.”

He stills the movement of your hips as he simultaneously releases an appreciative groan at the way your lips feel on his skin. “I missed you too, lovey.” He is careful as he approaches his bed and sits down on the plush mattress with you still in his arms. Wrapping a hand around your hair to tilt your head back so he can look into your eyes again, he attempts to keep himself from becoming hard from the mere prospect of you wrapping your body around his. His eyes search yours for answers as to your sour mood, “Tell me what’s wrong, bad day?”

“Try bad month,” you scoff, letting your hands slide over his, somehow, still damp torso. “You weren’t here,” you explain as you free yourself from his hold on your hair and take off your sweatshirt, “don’t wan’ to talk about it.”

“Well, I’m here now.” A sudden realisation that you are not wearing anything under your top comes to Lewis, and he has to mentally restrain himself from doing something rash. “Not wearing a bra?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raised.

You let out a confirming hum, “Not wearing any underwear either.” Giving him an innocent smile at the groan he gets out, you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, “Thought they’d get in the way.” His hands feel warm on your bare skin as he drags them up on your body to gently cup your exposed breasts, causing you to brace yourself by hanging onto his shoulder for support. Whining as you feel his thumb make contact with your sensitive nipple, you decide to pull him in for another kiss, mumbling a breathy, “Kiss me,” against his lips.

He obliges your request, of course, but he doesn’t let you control the kiss like you would’ve liked to. Instead, he stops the kiss by gently biting down on your lip before you can deepen it. With a small pat to your hip, he mumbles, “Get up, let me see you.” The look he gives you is just so full of adoration that you have no other choice to get up from his lap with the slowest moves you can muster. His eyes never leave you when you take a step back so that he can see you, all of you, and with the small nod he gives you, you begin taking off your leggings and shoes. That’s the thing about Lewis – for someone who is in the spotlight most of their time, he loves watching. And it is not only limited to the bedroom, you realise, he watches you even when you are doing mundane things together, like grocery shopping or walking Roscoe, domestic things that couples do together. But you can’t think about that, no, because both of you agreed that this was only physical and nothing more. Shaking the thoughts away, you straighten up from your bent position only to find Lewis looking you with a much darker look in his eyes. He’s dangerous, when he looks like that, you realise, he could break you into pieces with just his words, and the worst part is that you’d absolutely let him. “Pretty girl,” he whispers into the distance between you, and you take the hand he extends towards you for him to pull you against himself. The feeling of his lips on your skin almost feel feverish, and you find yourself releasing a gasp. “You’re the prettiest girl ever, lovey.”

“Lewis,” you brokenly whisper, your voice would be bordering on whiny with all the neediness that comes with it, “please, I need you.” The pleading look you give him is vulnerable, if not desperate.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips leaving another open-mouthed kiss, this time closer to your lower belly. His voice does a good job of soothing your erratic mind, his arms envelope you as he promises, “Whatever it is I’m here now, tell me what you want.”

He does a good job of putting you on the spot, you think, but unlike your usual self, you don’t have the patience for teasing tonight. “I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes off stronger than before, but it wavers as you also add, “please.” The last word brings a small smirk to Lewis’ face, and you let out a shriek as he quickly throws you onto the bed. “You almost scared me to death,” you complain, pushing out your lower lip in a pout.

“You’ll be fine,” he lets out a breathy laugh while quickly getting rid of the towel still, miraculously, hanging on his hips. The smirk on his face grows as he watches you shamelessly checking him out, but he never breaks his gaze from yours when your eyes meet as he wraps a hand around his cock to jerk himself for a few times. You spread your legs to accommodate his body as he leans over your lying figure by using his free arm as support. Rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick slit a few times, you can feel his breathy chuckle hit your skin while his lips run over your jaw to leave small kisses. “You’re so wet for me,” he mumbles, and the whimper that leaves your lips when he makes a point to rub his tip over your clit wins another chuckle, “you’re gonna be good for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble as you nod frantically, “yes Lu, I’m gonna be good, I promise. Please, just fuck me.” You try to tempt him by wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer – either you are successful and he gives in, or he is just as desperate to get inside you as you are desperate to feeling him because he complies with your movements as he nudges the tip of his cock into you in a slow push forward. The stretch is burning every single time, and usually he gives you enough time to accommodate his size before proceeding to fuck your brains out. But this time, he doesn’t waste any time as he pushes himself fully into you until he’s buried inside you to the hilt. The gasp you begin to let out turns into a silent scream as the feeling of being full consumes you, “Fuck, Lewis–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you through the initial pain, “you’re alright, just breathe th for a bit.” And you do what he tells you to because… well, you know he won’t do anything to hurt you. He brings his free hand towards your face to cup your cheek, which you respond by turning your head towards the warmness. “Tell me when the pain goes away,” he whispers against your skin – he finds he absolutely loves the way your skin flushes every single time he fucks you, and the thought makes him freeze for a second. Love? That is not something he should be thinking about, not especially when he’s buried inside you, because you both agreed–

Deciding to respond wordlessly, you press a soft kiss in the middle of Lewis’ palm, whilst also attempting to roll your hips, but then whining because of the additional pressure, “Please, Lewis, please move.”

That must’ve done the job of breaking Lewis out of whatever trance he was in, because once he hears your whiny voice pleading him to move, he starts thrusting his hip in and out of you in a rhythm that simply leaves you breathless in mere seconds. It’s the stress of the season, you think to yourself, but Lewis’ movements just get faster and deeper until he hits that one spot inside you that makes your whines turn into a scream and has you arching into him. You can’t see his reaction with your eyes fluttered close, but he stills his movements for a few moments as he looks at you as if you’re the most precious thing in his life. He waits until your erratic breathing to get back to normal before he starts rolling his hips against yours again, but this time the tempo he adopts is much slower, sensual, and almost… too intimate for it to only be considered physical between the two of you.

Your eyes flutter open as you look at him with confusion, “Wha– What are you–?” But he only cuts you off by pressing his lips against you to swallow your question in a kiss. The slower tempo is surprisingly more pleasurable then his usual style that you’ve dubbed fast and furious, and every time his hips roll at a certain angle, he brushes your clit in a way that makes your feet curl in pleasure.

He is breathless when he pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, but then again, so are you. The way he seems to gaze into your eyes make your breath hitch, and if you thought that was Lewis showing his emotions, he decides to put them into words. “So good for me, lovey,” he moans, yes moans because one thing you’ve learned from the start is that real men moan, “you were made for me, weren’t you?” His accent gets thicker, which is a tell that he’s getting there, but he won’t let himself come before he makes sure you’re taken care of. “Look at how you’re taking me, reckon I can feel myself if I place my hand on your belly?” It makes him laugh when you whine as you attempt to slither your hand towards your stomach to test his theory, but one deep stroke of his hips and your arms envelope them around his shoulders to use him as a support. “Perfect, you’re just perfect for me, hm? My perfect, pretty, little girl.”

“Please,” you whimper out, the tears that form in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall, “I’m so close.” It’s been such an emotional day, and a shitty month that all you wanted was to be consumed by him – and now that you have him in your arms, acting like you are more than just two friends who use each other for something so trivial and human as urges, you don’t want to let him go. Especially not when he makes you feel like you could love him for the rest of your life. Even if just the thought of it is enough to make your heart race. Needless to say, the sob you let out is unexpected on both of your ends, and you know he’s about to stop when he slows down even more, but you give him a stern look through your tears, “Don’t you dare stop.” You moan, loud enough for his neighbours downstairs to hear, once he picks up the pace again, but it’s still slow enough for it to be considered love making and not fucking by both of your standards.

He knows you’re close when your walls start clenching around him, which makes it much harder for him to compose himself. So, being the perfect gentleman he is, he starts rubbing your clit with one of his hands, his fingers work hard to bring you even more pleasure. He watches in amazement as you trash around under his body and as your whimpers and moans get louder gradually – until you are coming undone around him, starting to sob because of the pressure gets released in your tummy, that is. His hips still continue their languid movements, just like the faster movement of his fingers, as he fucks you through your release, mumbling sweet nothings and encouragements into your ear. Lewis does his best to kiss the tears that escape from your eyes, his breath fanning over your feverish skin.

“So good,” your moans get softer as you get calmer after a while, though your voice is still scratchy, “wanna feel you more, Lu.” Sliding your hand between your bodies to take his hand away from your clit, the loss of his touch makes you whine softly and he watches you in confusion while still continuing his movements slowly, but you see the way his eyes light up with a dark look when you wrap his fingers around your throat, and thankfully he understands the message as he tightens his hold just the way you like it. “Yeah, just like that,” you moan, encouraging him to pick up the pace. This time, it’s your turn to whisper praises riddled with encouragement, and you know it gets to him, because every single stroke his hips deliver end up making him fill you more and more, as if that was possible. The sobs coming from your lips transform into ones of pleasure, bringing Lewis closer and closer to his release.

“Look at me,” his voice is sharp, and it makes you immediately fix your eyes on his. There is an immense sense of wanting to please him, or rather make him proud within you, and he rewards you with a burning kiss that leaves you panting and wanting more as he spills himself into you. As he pulls away to moan out your name, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip. You gently bite down on his thumb while you manage to get out a satisfied moan, eyes closing ever so slightly as you feel him spill into you, and he keeps pulling you even closer to himself when he lets his body fall next to yours.

You have no idea how he manages to still stay inside you, but you can feel his lips pressing gentle kisses across your hairline, and brushing away the sweaty strands. “You feel better now, lovey?” Smiling at the tiredness dripping from his voice, you hum airily, a satisfied smile on your face while you move your neck to look at him. “Good,” his whisper brushes your lips as he nudges the tip of your nose with his, earning a giggle from you while he wipes away the dry tears on your cheeks.

“Do you have to leave?” There is a whiny undertone to your question, and it makes him give you a gentle smile.

“Not for a while,” he assures you, then he presses his lips softly on yours in a small kiss, “I promise.”

He grabs your hand to weave his fingers through yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles as he keeps silent for a moment – because he knows at that moment, just because you asked, he’ll cancel every single plan he’s made, just to spend more time with you so that he can make you smile like that. “Until you get sick of me, that is.” Your tired laughter fills his ears until it is interrupted by a yawn. He carefully moves you so that he gently takes himself out of you, and rolls you sideways so he can wrap his arms around as he pulls you close to cuddle. “Go to sleep, lovey, we’ll talk in the morning,” he mumbles as he presses soft kisses to your bare shoulder. You close your eyes with a smile on your face, burying yourself into his chest as much as you can, and hear him mumble, “My lovey,” before promptly falling asleep.

You pretend you didn’t hear him in the morning because the arrangement the two of you made was about keeping things causal.

But you respond by squeezing his hand three times in return anyway.

And he responds.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fluff

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seiwas · 17 days

Text

₊˚⊹｡ here’s to hoping (cause i can’t stop calling) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.1k

summary: gojo calls, and you spend it half-wishing you weren’t broken up.

contains: gn!reader, exes to ???, alcohol, mentions of going to the club, gojo is bad at being an ex, complicated feelings, ambiguous ending, kind of hurt/comfort.

a/n: writing this as my copium, i haven’t written gojo outside of col in so long so this was challenging, but equally as exciting! some songs that inspired this are: better than this - lauv & oh, gemini - role model.

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: calling your ex drunk at two a.m. with feelings still stuck in your throat

“Well, well, well… miss me already?”

The clock on your kitchen wall reads some time between 2:05 and 2:10. Even when you squint, the little lines remain a drunken blur.

You blame it on the alcohol.

“Don’t be shy now.” the voice on your phone continues, shaking you out of focus.

Had you been any more sober, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

Had you been any more sober, the throbbing in your head wouldn’t have persisted from the sound of—

“Gojo–” you sigh.

“Satoru.” he interrupts, a full pause before he continues, softer, “It’s Satoru, remember?”

Had you been any more sober, you wouldn’t have even answered his call.

You haul your bag up sluggishly, the chains of the strap clacking against your countertop. Patience is a ticking time bomb when you’re this inebriated, the heavy bass from earlier tonight still thumping its way within your brain.

You can’t think straight.

“Satoru,” a name now foreign but still so close to home; it burns on your tongue, trickles bittersweet down your throat, “you called. What do you need?”

It’s stupid of you to ask, you know, because Gojo’s been calling you like this since the day you broke up months ago. You’d picked up the first few times, but quickly realized that it wasn’t good for the both of you—you’d never move on, and Gojo would never let you go.

Except—

“You picked up.”

—liquor makes for poor company when it only serves to soften the anger you’ve built up as protection. It really is all the alcohol’s fault.

Your eyes burn as you squeeze them shut, sighing, a twisted exhale, “You have to stop, Satoru.”

“Stop what?” he feigns, the lilt at the end a sure sign of the most insufferable smirk.

The thought of it makes you sick, makes you ache with memories of pinching his nose at the sight of it. He used to giggle then; now, he chuckles on the other end.

That’s the question, isn’t it? Stop what?

Since the break-up, Gojo’s been acting like nothing’s changed. He still calls you just as much, still texts you with undertones that tread the fine line between flirty and ‘just Gojo’. Your toiletries are still at his apartment, and his clothes are still in your closet.

You’d find humor in it if not for the fact that all of it has been so goddamn confusing.

He started it; he broke up with you.

Shouldn’t he be pushing you away?

To this day, you have no full closure, no other reason other than an ‘it’s better this way’ followed by a continuous stream of mixed signals because how he treats you is still the same.

“Stop calling,” a lump forms in your throat, an admission you’ve had to remind yourself again and again, “we’re not together anymore.”

“I can’t call a friend?”

You snort, fiddling with the metal links of your bag strap, “Is that what we are?”

A pause. Slippers shifting on floorboards. They sound just like the sleepless nights he’d shuffle out of bed.

You can picture him on the other end, head tilted and leant back on the plush leather of his couch. He hums but doesn’t answer you—he never does when it can mean something.

“You still sound the same.”

And you don’t expect it at this moment, to get so choked up over how he sounds over radio waves, but he says the words a little too fondly for you not to notice. Gojo’s always teased that he can pinpoint your voice from the moment you speak the first word.

You don’t mean to give him any more authority over your feelings than he already has, but the words slip out before you can catch yourself, “You’re being unfair.”

Another hum. His tone shifts to something lighter, more teasing, “Like you aren’t. Always typing, never sending…”

The huff that punctuates his sentences paints itself vividly with a small pout.

“Stop staring at my chat box then.” is all you can muster, the ache spreading throughout your chest.

“Afraid I can’t.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“You’re impossible.” your eyes begin to feel wet, your sniffle concealing itself as you clear your throat.

The silence that follows is uncharacteristic of your relationship with Gojo, even more of the man you know, but you find it filled to the brim with all the possibilities of what went wrong—of things you know he’ll never say out loud.

You know Gojo has issues; they presented themselves well enough in the year you were together. Being with him is accepting that you’ll be reading between the lines your entire life.

He is simultaneously touchy but distant, vocal but elusive in his affections; he drapes himself over you every chance he gets, but when you touch him in places no one else has, you think a storm swirls cyan in his irises. Gojo gives compliments like candies on Halloween, but he keeps his feelings close to his chest, locked away like presents tightly wrapped under a Christmas tree.

This is why you never saw it coming.

This is why there was no hint, no sign of him ever wanting to break things off when he did.

‘Let’s stop dating’ with no warning.

“Had fun tonight?” he asks so casually, like it doesn’t tell you a million things—how he still has your location on his phone, how he’s still checking on you, Six Eyes or not.

Tonight was okay, all things considered. You don’t go to clubs often, but your friends kept you company; the music boomed just a tad bit louder than you’re used to, and the drinks were good, but—

“You would have hated it.”

If Gojo were there, you would have stayed 10 minutes tops. He’d whine about being bored but you’d be able to tell, from the slight furrow of his brows and the clenching of his jaw that it’s because one of his migraines is forming.

“Good thing I’d have you, then.”

There are half-truths in jokes like this, a dangerous thing to say when you both know he could still have you if he wanted.

“Stop flirting, it’s annoying.” you try to steel your voice, pushing down the false hope rising in your chest.

“You love it, though.”

The pain sears you, hurts when he says the word so lightly, as if he isn’t aware that you know love is the reason he had to break things off prematurely. As if he doesn’t know that you’re still in love with him, that you’re still putting faith in a tragedy.

“Do you even know what loving something feels like?”

The line remains silent, save for the softest sound of his breath hitching.

You must have hit a nerve.

He hums, an expected answer, but then he mumbles, words spoken so faintly, so quietly, you’re surprised they even came through.

“Yeah, I do.”

a/n: wanted to use this as dialogue practice because i think gojo’s dialogue is one of the trickiest to nail! i also found it so fun exploring this kind of dynamic with him!! i subtly hint on some of gojo’s personal issues but don’t explicitly state it to leave room for interpretation! the ending is ambiguous for that same reason.

thank you notes: @stellamancer for helping me out so much with this 🥺 practically beta-ing it, really 🥺 ily niku 🥺 in my head, gojo does not exist without you 🥺 & @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @scarabrat @soumies for being my lil cheerleaders always 🥺 ily all 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #satoru #gojo x you #gojo x yn #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x yn #jjk x y/n #shotorus.writes #shotorus.events #in's and out's event

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papercorgiworld · 2 months

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I pretty please request a little fic abt Enzo being jealous, you write him so well 🙁

“I’m your brother’s best friend, I'm allowed to be jealous.”

A jealous Enzo Berkshire x Nott!reader imagine

Cedric asking you out has innocent Enzo freaking out.

Warning: a little bit of smut, little bit

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Blaise asks as he looks at Theodore who stares at you and Enzo entering the great hall laughing. “What?” Theo asks lazily. “That Enzo’s drooling over your sister?” Theodore snorts. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Rather Enzo than Matt.” Mattheo’s brows furrow as his eyes roll to Theo, raising his hands offended with his mouth still stuffed with food. “What’s wrong with me?” Mattheo says after quickly swallowing his food, but is quick to add: “On second thought, don’t answer that question.” Blaise chuckles but returns his focus on Theodore, asking silently to answer his earlier question seriously. “Enzo’s a good guy.” Theo explains. “I kinda hope they’ll end up together. He’ll be good to her and she’ll be good for him. Enzo doesn’t get into fights and he’s not a possessive psycho. He’ll treat her right.” Mattheo’s eyes knit together again. “Why do I feel so attacked?” Theodore ignores him and continues with a hushed voice since Enzo and you are approaching. “I kinda hope he’ll finally make a move.” Blaise raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Don’t hold your breath mate.” Enzo plops down next to Blaise. “Hold your breath for what?” Theodore smirks. “For Dumbledore to give slytherin points for something.” A soft laugh leaves your lips. “Never happening.” Enzo’s eyes focus on your smile as you fill your plate. That smile.

Enzo was madly in love with you, but you were Theo’s little baby sister so he assumed you were off limits for him. However, Cedric Digory wasn’t friends with Theodore so there was no reason for him to stay away from you. You and Cedric had been good friends for years, much to Enzo’s dismay and every year you got prettier and every year Cedric showed more interest in you and every year Enzo ended up hating Cedric more.

***

“Oh all bowtruckles in a tree! He asked you out!” Luna's eyes go wide, not believing what she had just heard. You nod and smile, leaving the classroom. “Yes, I know, crazy, right?” But your joy instantly disappears when you see Enzo approaching, his soft demeanour changing with every step he takes. Enzo was the best, but every year you noticed how he got more and more annoyed with guys showing interest in you. He also had made it very clear that nothing would ever happen between you two because bro code and stuff. Honestly, the most ridiculous thing ever, especially since your brother had the hottest friends ever. Right now, you were seriously getting annoyed with Enzo, what did he expect of you, to stay single forever? Not happening. “Who asked who out?” Enzo forces a smile as his eyes move between you and Luna. You sigh. “Cedric asked me out.” You say, bracing yourself for whatever irrational argument Enzo was gonna throw at you. “Ah, yes, that ‘good’ friend of yours that I’ve been warning you about since forever. I told you that guy is only after one thing-” You make eye contact with Luna and raise your eyebrows, before interrupting Enzo. Leaning a bit his way you whisper: “Well, I hope so, because honestly Enz, I’m only after one thing as well.” Your voice sounds bittersweet to Enzo and he watches you and Luna walk away giggling. He clenches his jaw as he considers his options. Talk reason into you, impossible. Punch reason into Cedric, not my style. Or be a tattletale and spill the news to your brother...

***

“She’s going on a date with Digory!” Enzo yells as soon as he enters the slytherin common room and spots Theodore. Theo looks up to see a fuming Enzo approach. “You should do something.” Enzo says, calming down a bit, but also annoyed by the lack of response from Theo. “Like what?” Theodore asks eyebrows knitting together as he folds the newspaper he was reading before Enzo stormed in. “Tell her not to go. The guy’s bad news.” Theodore lazily stares at Enzo. “The guy’s a Hufflepuff, he’s barely news, let alone bad news. And tell her not to go… You obviously don’t know much about siblings, but let me tell you this: they don’t listen.”

“What! You’re just gonna let her?” Theodore was getting a little frustrated with Enzo’s tone and Mattheo could barely keep himself from laughing at seeing Enzo so upset. “Yeah, as long as she doesn’t date Mattheo I’m good with it.” Theo says with a bit of a sterner voice and Mattheo frowns feeling offended a second time today, but Enzo’s clearly angry with Theo and shakes his head. “You rather have her date someone like Cedric than one of your friends?!” There’s silence but Enzo’s just so terrified of you going out and falling in love with someone while he’s left pining, that all his feelings boil over into anger. “What kind of a shit brother are you!” At those words Theodore gets up in a second, almost pressing his head against Enzo’s to make sure Enzo gets the message. “I’m not a shit brother and I never said that I'd rather have her date Cedric than one of my friends, just not Mattheo but trust me Berkshire if you keep this crap up then you’ll be out of my sister’s life in no time.”

Enzo’s so angry that he can barely process what Theodore is saying, but he’s sane enough to walk away and not pick a fight with his friend and the brother of the girl’s crushing on.

“Why always use me as the definition of trouble?” Mattheo complains, making Theodore roll his eyes. “Cause you are, I just hoped we had at least one sane friend in our group, but apparently Enzo’s just as dysfunctional as the rest of us.” Theodore sighs, unclenching his fists and sitting back down.

***

You leave your classroom to find a shaky Enzo pacing the hallway. When he spots you he immediately walks over to you and you can see the nervousness in his eyes. “What's wrong?” You ask as his hand firmly wraps around your arm. “We need to talk. Now.” His voice is urgent and his eyes avoid yours. “Enzo calm-” “No, it’s important.” Enzo snaps at you and pushes a door open, shoving you into a broom closet. “You can’t go out with him.” Enzo states as soon as he closes the door behind him. There’s a dim light that lights his pained face just enough for you to see. “Enzo-” Your voice is soothing, but Enzo’s too afraid of what you’ll say so he continues to rant. “It physically hurts when I think of you being with someone else, loving someone else. So just, I beg you, just don’t go out with him.” He sighs and moves a hand over his sweaty forehead. “I almost had a fight with your brother, because I’m freaking out and I’m freaking out because I know Cedric is a good guy and you like him and you’ll love him and forget about me and I- I-.”

You grab his face and place an urgent kiss on his lips, hoping you’ll keep Enzo from spiralling any further, but to your surprise he suddenly spirals into a whole different direction. Eagerly kissing back, one hand finding the small of your back as he takes a step towards you pushing you against the wall of the small closet you’re in. “I need you.” Enzo breathes lips only inches away from yours and his eyes piercing you, silently begging you to let him love you. “Let me have you.” His husky hungry voices make your knees go weak. “Have me, Enz.” You whisper, meeting his lips with an equal amount of hunger. What took you so long. He kisses you until you're out of breath then he leaves sloppy kisses on your jaw, before sucking at the flesh of your neck like you taste divine to him. His hands lustfully trace every inch of your body, squeezing the flesh of your thighs and ass. “I’ll make you love me.” Your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the sound of his determined voice. Not that you needed him to do anything, you had already fallen for him before he had even seen you as someone more than just Theo’s sister. However, you were more than enjoying Enzo working for your love.

***

You straighten your skirt and do your best to comb your hair with your fingers to look as decent as possible after what Enzo had just done to you in that tiny closet. “You look fine.” Enzo ensures smiling at you adoring your beauty as you stand there nervously watching if anyone has seen you two leave the broom closet. You force a weak smile and Enzo can’t help but get nervous as well. Though not about getting caught with you, but about whether or not he had convinced you to not go out with Cedric. Even having you moan and cry his name wasn’t enough to reassure him that you were his. He needed to know. “Are you still going out with him?” Enzo blurs and your eyes meet his. Is he for real? “Was this really all because Cedric asked me out?” Enzo shrugs, a bit embarrassed about how he had acted. A soft chuckle leaves your lips. “Really Lorenzo Berkshire you got jealous?” His hands sink into his pockets and he stares at the floor, thinking of a good response. “I’m your brother’s best friend, I’m allowed to be jealous.”

You frown at his silly excuse. “Pretty sure Matt’s my brother's best friend and even if you were that’s not an excuse at all. Neither does it excuse what you just did to me in that closet.” Enzo takes a step closer to you and meets your eyes. “What do you want me to say?” Your eyes drown in his. “The truth Enz.”

He takes a deep breath, before confessing. “I’m so incredibly jealous, because I’m in love with you.” A happy smile tugs on your lips and Enzo’s delighted at how happy you are with his confession.

“You know… I never said yes to Cedric.” Enzo’s eyes widen and his mouth almost drops. “What?” A sweet laugh escapes you at the view of his shocked face. “I only ever said that he asked… I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t because I’m in love with you.” Within a split second Enzo’s lips crash onto yours. You had just made this man the happiest in all of Hogwarts.

Word count: 1771

Picture link: https://pin.it/2LVDPbwNS

#slytherin #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

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mrschtappen · 3 months

Text

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄

I : The Call of the Circuit -> II : Dreams Ignited (soon) -> III : Untitled (soon)

masterlist

Max Verstappen x Schumacher!reader

Synopsis: childhood friends Max Verstappen and you, the daughter of racing legend Michael Schumacher, evolve from best friends to fierce rivals to teammates. maybe then to lovers....?

Monday, 10th December, 2018 Faenza, Italy

You sat alone at your new office, your eyes fixed on the glowing screen of your phone. The Twitter announcement you had posted earlier that day was still causing ripples across the internet, igniting a firestorm of reactions and responses from fans and followers around the world.

As you scrolled through the flood of comments, memes, and well-wishes flooding your feed, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. The overwhelming wave of support and excitement from your supporters served as a poignant reminder of the incredible journey that lay ahead.

You made sure you turned off the lights of your new office when you were about to go. Settling inside your Audi R8, the soft chime from your phone took your attention away from driving.

As you read Max's message about bringing a Michael Schumacher merch from Germany, a wave of mixed emotions washed over you. The mention of your father's name, especially in connection with Germany, brought back vivid memories of the ski accident that had changed your lives forever in 2013.

your heart felt heavy, a subtle ache resurfacing as you recalled the challenging times that followed your father's accident. The uncertainty, the hope, and the unwavering support from loved ones, including Max, during those difficult years played like a reel in your mind.

Despite the pain and the bittersweet nostalgia, you weren't angry with Max for bringing up those memories. In fact, you felt a sense of gratitude for his thoughtfulness and the comfort of your shared history. Max had been a pillar of strength and understanding throughout your journey, and his genuine care and friendship meant more to you than any merchandise ever could.

Sitting alone in your car, you took a moment to let the emotions wash over you. You reflected on your journey and the pivotal decision to join Formula 1, a deep sense of determination and purpose filled your heart. Since you were three years old, the dream of racing in F1 had been a beacon of hope and ambition, driving you to push boundaries and defy expectations.

You knew that stepping onto the track wasn't just about fulfilling your childhood dreams; it was also a tribute to your father and the legacy he had built. The memories of watching Michael Schumacher's triumphant moments, especially his 6th championship title, had ignited a spark within you, fueling her passion and commitment to chase after her own aspirations.

Despite the challenges and the weight of the past, you felt a profound sense of gratitude and pride. You knew that your journey was a testament to your resilience, determination, and the unwavering support of those who believed in you, including Max.

Sunday, 12th October, 2003 Suzuka, Japan

As a three-year-old, you may not have comprehended the complexity of Formula One racing, the excitement buzzing in the air, the infectious energy of the crowd through the grandstands. The vibrant colors of the racing cars zooming past, the deafening roar of engines, and the flashes of cameras captured your attention, painting a kaleidoscope of sensory impressions.

Although your understanding was limited at such a tender age, the sight of Michael Schumacher, dressed in his iconic red racing suit, elicited a sense of pride and admiration within your young heart.

"That's my dad !" your little fingers pointed at the red car zooming the finish line, practically screaming at everyone as you started clapping then.

The warmth of your mother's embrace welcomed you as you cheered together, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

your eyes wide with wonder as you watched your father bask in the spotlight and as Michael Schumacher descended from the podium, triumphant and beaming with joy, his eyes sought out you, your mother and your older brother Mick in the crowd. With a tender smile, he reached out to scoop up his young daughter, lifting you into his arms and hoisting you high above the crowd.

the cameras flashed and the crowd erupted into applause, you enjoyed the attention, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world to be held in the arms of your racing hero.

The image of your bond captured for all to see, you knew that this was a moment you would cherish forever—a moment when you felt truly seen and cherished by the man who meant the world to you.

your dad, Michael Schumacher.

Saturday, 27th November 2003. Gland, Switzerland

you stepped onto the karting track for the very first time, your heart pounding with excitement and nerves. The whole family was there along with your dad's friend's family, the Vertsappens. With your tiny hands gripping the steering wheel of your go-kart, you were confused on how the whole kart operates.

"You've got this schatzi !" You heard your dad cheer for you from a distance, calling you a nickname that means sweetie in German.

Frustrated, you spoke

"How do I do this ?"

Max Verstappen, the seasoned six-year-old racer, flashed you a mischievous grin as he leaned over to offer his expertise.

"Watch and learn, little rookie. First, you gotta push down on the pedal like this..."

With a swift motion, Max demonstrated, his foot pressing down on the accelerator pedal with practiced ease. You watched intently, your eyes wide with fascination.

"Like this?"

you mimicked Max's actions, but your foot hesitated on the pedal, unsure of the right amount of pressure to apply.

Max chuckled, reaching over to gently guide your foot.

"Almost there, y/n ! You just need to press a little harder."

you nodded eagerly, determined to master the art of go-karting with Max's help.

"Got it! Thanks, Maxie !"

As you zip around the track, the conversation turned to your shared love for Formula One racing.

"Do you think we'll ever drive in Formula One, Max ?"

Max grinned, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Of course! And when we do, I'll be the world champion, then Mick and you will be my trusty sidekicks."

you rolled her eyes playfully, a giggle escaping your lips.

"Dream on, Max! I'll be the one leaving you in the dust!"

"Hey, you two ! How's it going ? " a familiar voice chimed in from behind you, causing both Max and you to turn around

Max grinned, giving Mick a playful nod.

"We're having a blast ! little rookie here is a natural behind the wheel."

you blushed at the praise from Max

"Thanks, Maxie ! And hey, Mick, I'm going to beat you someday !"

Mick laughed heartily, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Is that so ? Well, I look forward to the challenge ! Let's see who can get to formula one first"

Your banter filled the air with laughter as the three of you raced around the track, your friendship growing stronger with each passing lap. And as you crossed the finish line second, just a few millisecond behind Max, a smile grew wide on your face.

"Looks like you've got a prodigy, are you sure this is her first time ? She's a natural" Max's dad said, a chuckle escaped from your dad

You crossed the finish line just 4 tenths of a second later than someone who was 3 years older than you. You can feel the pride surging even when you were just so little.

"wow you're fast" your older brother said, giving you a high five as you returned it enthusiastically with a tiny jump

"yeah, not so bad little rookie !" Max also gave you a high five

you smile with your tiny teeths showing, your dad embraced you, lifting you up in the air

"my daughter is a soon to be formula one racer, and the world shall know you as for you are, not the daughter of a six time world champion but y/n Schumacher."

you couldn't help but feel grateful for everyone's guidance and support, knowing that with them by your side, you knew you were able to achieve anything.

Thursday, 14 March 2019 Melbourne, Australia ROUND ONE

As you took your first steps out to greet the fans, a wave of exhilaration and gratitude washed over you. The energy from the crowd was palpable, a mix of excitement, anticipation, and overwhelming support. The sight of fans waving flags, holding up banners, and wearing team colors was a surreal and heartwarming experience for you.

Walking along the barricades, you were met with a sea of merchandise bearing your name and face, along with the iconic Michael Schumacher memorabilia that fans had brought along. The presence of the Michael Schumacher merchandise added an extra layer of emotion to the moment, reminding you of the legacy you were a part of and the immense responsibility that came with it.

As you greeted fans, signing autographs and posing for photos, several fans couldn't help but comment on the striking resemblance between you and your legendary father, Michael Schumacher. Their kind words and compliments about your beauty and resemblance to your father filled you with a sense of pride and humility.

Amidst the flurry of interactions, one fan caught your attention with a cheeky remark that left both of you laughing.

you backed away with laughter, cupping your mouth, looking at a marriage certificate by an older fanboy, a good looking one you couldn't lie.

"I'm 19 !" You exclaimed, a wide laugh still visible on your face

"Maybe in a few years !" You joked, before moving to another fan, signing her cap with the number 57 on it, a number you chose to drive for.

It was media day today which means there's no driving and the press conference began with Lewis Hamilton from Mercedes, Sebastian Vettel of Ferrari, Daniel Ricciardo from Renault, Max Verstappen of Red Bull Racing and of course yourself, y/n Schumacher from Scuderia Toro Rosso.

"We’re gathered under very sad circumstances, following the news that Charlie Whiting, the FIA’s Director of Formula One died during the early hours of this morning. I’d like to start this press conference by asking each of the drivers present for their thoughts and memories of Charlie. Lewis, could we start with you, please?" Lewis spoke to the mic

"I’ve known Charlie since I started in 2007. I made some comments this morning on my Instagram. It may have not worked, as I think it’s down but obviously incredibly shocked this morning to hear the sad news and my thoughts and prayers are with him and his family. What he did for this sport, I mean, his commitment… he really was a pillar, as Toto said, such an iconic figure in the sporting world and he contributed so much for us, so may he rest in peace."

as the other drivers stated their comments regarding the passing of the late Charlie Whiting, it was your turn to answer

"How about y/n ? I believe this has come to a big shock as well as your father was also racing when he was the f1 racing director ?"

"yes, my father raced during Charlie's tenure as F1 Racing Director. I've met Charlie a few times and found him to be a wonderful person. His dedication to safety and fairness in Formula One was unmatched. Charlie's ability to connect with everyone in the paddock and his unwavering passion for the sport made him irreplaceable. My thoughts are with his family, friends, and the entire FIA community during this tough time. His legacy in Formula One will always be remembered"

as they continued tho the next question, you were shocked as to how bold and daring for this male interviewer to ask the whole lot of drivers with you

"Given the whispers around the paddock about nepotism getting y/n Schumacher this seat due to her father's legacy, and considering she is the sole female on the grid, do you drivers genuinely believe she is as competent as the other drivers, or do you acknowledge a potential gap in her skill?"

As the interviewer's words cut through the tension of the room, your face tightened, a blend of disbelief and frustration clouding your features. The weight of the question bore down on you, amplifying your discomfort and vulnerability in that moment.

You felt exposed, the spotlight glaringly bright, intensifying the scrutiny you felt as the only female driver on the grid.

Sensing your discomfort, a subtle shift occurred amongst the drivers on the panel. Eyes darted towards you, expressions reflecting concern and empathy.

Among them, Max Verstappen's gaze lingered a moment longer, his usually confident demeanor softened by genuine concern for his fellow driver.

The collective silence that followed the question seemed to stretch on, the atmosphere thick with tension. But within you, a resilient fire ignited. Drawing strength from the supportive glances of your peers and your own unwavering determination, you steadied yourself. You would not let this moment define you or shake your belief in your own capabilities.

"could we start with you again Lewis ?"

Lewis's expression tightened, clearly upset by the nature of the question.

"Honestly, I find it disappointing that in this day and age, we're still having these discussions. Women have proven time and time again that they can compete at the highest levels of motorsport. I've been a staunch supporter of women in racing, and I've seen firsthand the talent and determination they bring to the track."

"Look, in Formula 1, everyone's path to the grid is different. Yes, some of us come from racing families or have certain connections, but ultimately, talent and hard work are what count. I've faced skepticism throughout my career for various reasons, and I've always chosen to let my performance on the track speak for itself. As for y/n, she's shown promise and skill in her journey to F1. The sport is better when we have diverse talents, and I believe she deserves her place here"

"Thank you for the answer, could we move on to Vettel next ?"

Vettel's brows furrowed, eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and growing indignation. "It's disappointing, really, to hear these questions. Every driver on this grid has earned their seat through dedication, hard work, and skill. Formula 1 is a tough environment, and to suggest that anyone is here purely because of their name or gender undermines the effort we all put in. I've met y/n and seen her commitment firsthand. She belongs here as much as anyone else."

Then they moved on to Danny. His jovial demeanor momentarily shifted as he heard the interviewer's pointed question directed at you. Being someone who often exudes positivity and fairness, Daniel values meritocracy and respects the grind every driver goes through to reach Formula 1. Hearing a fellow driver being questioned on the basis of nepotism and gender struck a chord with him.

"Ah, the old nepotism and gender card. It's not a new question in F1, but it's one that misses the mark. Sure, having a famous last name might open some doors initially, but it won't keep them open if you can't deliver on track. As for being the only female driver, I think it's about time we focus on skills and capabilities rather than gender. I've had the chance to get to know y/n, and she's got talent. End of story."

Then they moved on to Max, who is known for his fierce competitiveness and straightforwardness. It was clear that he was infuriated by the audacious implication and the discomfort it caused you.

Seeing you visibly uncomfortable only intensified Max's emotions. He felt a surge of protective anger, recognizing the unfair scrutiny and challenges you faced as the only female driver on the grid. In that moment, the friendship among drivers was evident, as Max's concern for your well-being was palpable.

His eyes flashed with fury as he seized the opportunity to address the interviewer's audacious question. His voice dripped with venom as he unleashed his pent-up frustration.

"Firstly, the audacity to question anyone's place on this grid based on gender or family name is just absolute garbage. She's earned her spot on this grid through sheer talent and hard work, just like the rest of us. Anyone who suggests otherwise is either blind or just plain ignorant."

His words were sharp and cutting, each syllable laced with disdain for the backward mindset behind the question. Max's aggression was palpable as he continued to tear down the baseless accusations.

"In case you missed it, Formula 1 is about racing, talent, dedication, and hard work, not gender or who your parents are. It's disappointing to still be facing these backward stereotypes in this day and age. We should be focusing on racing and the incredible talent we have on this grid, not trying to create controversy where there isn't any . For the record, I've raced alongside her, and I've known her my entire life. Y/n is an extraordinary racer through and through, and she's proven herself time and time again."

He paused, taking a breath to temper his rising emotions before continuing,

"So, how about we focus on the actual sport instead of dredging up this garbage ?"

Max's aggressive defence reverberated through the room, leaving no doubt as to where he stood on the matter and silencing any further attempts to undermine your place in the sport.

As you listened to Max's vehement defense, a mixture of emotions washed over you. Initially, there was a sense of relief and gratitude. Max's and the other drivers' unwavering support and fierce defence of you felt like a shield against the unfair scrutiny you had faced. It was reassuring to know that your fellow drivers stood your her and were willing to call out the injustice.

Your eyes briefly met Max's intense gaze, conveying a silent thank you and mutual understanding of the gravity of the situation.

Then it was finally your turn to answer

With a poised demeanor, you addressed the room, your voice steady and confident.

"I'd like to extend my sincere appreciation to my fellow drivers for their support. It speaks volumes about the fellowship and respect we share as competitors."

Pausing momentarily, you continued with a touch of irony,

"Regarding the questions raised about nepotism and being the only female on the grid, I was under the impression that Formula 1 valued skill, determination, and performance above all else. My presence here is a testament to my commitment, capability, and qualities I believe are fundamental to every driver on this grid."

Maintaining your composure, you added, "While these questions may have been posed, my focus remains unwaveringly on racing. I am here to compete, to challenge, and to succeed, just like every other driver. I look forward to letting my performance on the track speak for itself. Besides, I don't see 19 men ahead of me, I see 19 challenges to be conquered."

With this response, you gracefully but firmly addressed the issue, highlighting your professionalism and determination to rise above the noise and excel in your chosen profession.

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astrolavas · 8 months

Text

i think abt hunter's room back at the castle a lot because it tells us… so much abt his situation.

hunter was always expected to be this strong, mature, trained soldier. he had to act like an adult next to actual adults, in order to be minimally respected by them (and even that barely worked). he wasn't supposed to show any weaknesses, he didn't have an option to be himself freely, he was working as the emperor's right-hand man 24/7. his childhood was literally stolen from him.

and yet in his room, despite the fact that he's supposed to be this "mature" golden guard, there's the sprig plushie under his pillow. there's a cartoon character figurine on his shelf. you see it all and it really just hits you how young he is. that he's just a kid.

hunter was never allowed to have a typical childhood, and at the time as the golden guard, he wouldn't have admitted to wanting one, not even to himself. he was conditioned to believe that he had to be strong and grown up and focused or else he would be seen as weak and useless (especially with him being magicless in a magical society). but even during these times, where he couldn't be fully himself, where he could never even consider being vulnerable next to other people or acting like a kid, he had that plushie. and i just think abt all the nights where he would get back from a long, exhausting shift or from an unpleasant meeting with belos, and he'd just lay down on the bed and hug the plushie, because it was literally the only source of comfort that he had, and because despite everything he was still a kid. and at that moment, in the privacy of his own room, he was allowing himself to act like one, even if he hated himself for it.

and it's even more heart-breaking when we take into account the contrast between the cartoon plushies/figurines and the remaining entirety of his room. the weapons, the stitched up pillow, the potion (which i can only assume was something to help with healing wounds), the first aid kit.

that room is probably very bittersweet in his memories, nowadays. because he was basically trapped in there, he couldn't leave the castle most of the time, besides on weekends for missions, no matter how much he yearned for it. it has many bad memories tied to it. but back then, that room was also a single safe space for hunter; it was the only space that was his, where he didn't have to mask or watch his tone or act like an adult, he could just… feel things, be hunter, be a kid, at least as much as he'd allow himself to.

#rare textpost but i DID say i'd post random stuff here more so.... gghgg. hunter.......#the owl house #hunter toh #nicole talks #my toh talk #hunter

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euthymiya · 1 month

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hero’s compensation ft. diluc ragnvindr

in which you’re walking home, unaware of the news of a pesky samachurl that’s snuck into the city. luckily, the darknight hero is there to rescue you. except one thing: you didn’t expect him to be such a familiar face

contains: female reader ; childhood friends to lovers ; reader is attacked by a samachurl ; references to diluc’s story quest as the darknight hero ; so much tension lol ; lots of kissing ; confessions ; getting together ; this is a late bday offering for the first man that every genshin player falls for

in your defense, you hadn’t heard of the news to avoid this part of the city until the knights could take care of the little…threat that happens to lurk around the streets. you hadn’t noticed the samachurl at first—it noticed you, caging you with thorny vines in a small enclosure.

you’re doomed, you think—samachurls are small, yes, but still dangerous.

you dodge as the staff in its hand swings at you, a quick yet clumsy effort as you start to get tired. running away isn’t an option—not only because you’re trapped, but also because you wouldn’t want to risk bringing the monster deeper into the city. it’s rare for them to find their way past the gates, but it happens every once in a while. not often enough, however, that you’re prepared to handle this situation.

and then there’s a flash—something quick and sharp that swings past you towards the creature.

but unlike the samachurl’s staff, this particular object seems to purposely dodge you, hitting the creature square on its head as it stumbles back and shrieks. a dark (but very familiar) silhouette lunges past you, picking up what you realize is a claymore before swinging once more, the small body of the samachurl sent flying at the impact before slumping onto the ground, limp.

your hand is clutched to your heart, fisting at the material around your collar as you heave labored breaths, in and out. in and out. in and out.

it’s over. your savior is a man who vaguely tickles at a part of your brain incessantly, but you’re too busy with the adrenaline and fear pumping through your veins to fully grasp why that is just yet.

it’s not until a gloved hand settles on your shoulder and a voice calls to you, do you break out of your daze. “are you alright?” a low whisper asks you.

diluc. you look up, shocked and still slightly panicked as you blink at him. “wha—”

“this way! i saw a figure, i’m sure it’s the darknight hero for certain this time!”

the sound of footsteps and a distant voice interrupts you, and before you can figure out what’s happened, diluc has pulled you away, pressing you against the tight space between a stone wall and a staircase and caging you as the pounding footsteps run past you. he lets out a shaky sigh as the sounds become more and more distant, relief sagging into his shoulders once he’s sure the knights hadn’t seen you.

you’re not too worried about that, though. there are more pressing matters on your mind.

like that fact that he’s close. so close, that you can make out the small, ghost of a scar on his forehead from when you were kids. when he’d cut himself from the gravel as he chased after you and kaeya, fallen face first. you remember that day fondly—most of your memories with diluc are fond. some a little bittersweet, of course. long gone are the days where you could run freely with both brothers and have a good time, but memorable all the same.

the man you’ve grown up with is supposedly the same mysterious man you hear about whispered on the streets. the darknight hero—some praise him, in awe of his abilities and his work. others, not so much. the knights, for example, don’t take to his vigilante role too kindly.

you inhale sharply, still pressed close to him as you stare at him with wide eyes.

“so it’s you,” you murmur, stepping closer in the already tight enclosure and invading his space. he doesn’t mind, not really. it’s a slippery slope to press yourself against him like this, but you’ve never had a track record for taking easy routes.

“it’s me,” he confirms, eyeing you carefully, like he’s making sure that’s alright with you.

it is. nothing diluc does could be a problem for you, not when he’s saved your life and not when he’s so close you can practically feel him as he breathes in front of you.

“how did you know to find me?” you ask, looking him in the eyes until finally, he breaks, casting his gaze anywhere else but you as he clears his throat.

“i heard there was a samachurl in the area and—”

“diluc,” you say unimpressed, “i know you better than that.”

you know the answer. you know him better than anyone, in fact. you’ve grown up knowing him, knowing what he loves and hates. what makes him laugh and cry. the softness that still lingers underneath the hardened exterior that the world’s cruelty has layered over his innocence. nobody knows diluc like you do, just like nobody knows you like him.

he knew you were here, not because of some samachurl or some mild threat. you. because somehow, diluc has always made himself present, made himself available at even the most inopportune times when it comes to you.

that time you almost drowned at the lake by the winery as kids. that time you strayed too far and ran into a cryo slime by accident. that time you fell trying to pick grapes and twisted your ankle. that time you walked home late at night and got cornered by a drunk man from the tavern.

he’s always there, somehow, for some reason, always knows just when you need someone and makes sure it’s him who steps up to be the person.

“i was following you,” he admits, tense as he avoids your gaze.

“following me?” you gasp, “how scandalous! do you follow all young women as they walk the streets?”

“of course not,” he frowns, looking mildly bewildered, “i was following you.”

“i see,” you nod slowly, “worried i was incapable of walking myself home, were you?”

neither of you mention that you were incapable of walking yourself home tonight. his face twists into a sheepish expression as he rubs his neck awkwardly.

“it’s not that i find you incapable—i just…it’s just a precautionary measure for the sake of ensuring—”

“oh diluc, would it kill you to say you were worried about me?” you snort.

“quit being difficult,” he grumbles.

“forgive me,” you sigh dramatically, “i thought i could perhaps be clever and hear you admit you care about me. alas, it seems such a day won’t come any time soon.”

he flushes a light pink. it contrasts beautifully with his red hair, making your fingers itch to reach over and pinch his cheek. but he rolls his eyes, finally looking back at you and looking right into you with his piercing gaze as he says, “i was worried about you. does that satisfy you? not one day goes by that i’m not worried about you. you keep me up at night, enough that i’ve taken the safety of this city into my own hands.”

he stuns you into silence. it’s been so many years, so many years since he grew from that young boy you met. his hands became rougher, his shoulders became broader, his arms became stronger. he’s gone from practicing with a wooden sword to wielding that heavy greatsword of his. he’s not naive anymore, far less trusting and far more stoic. his dreams have changed and his ambitions aren’t what they used to be—but he’s still the same diluc that stole your breath and suffocated your throat even as a child.

you love him deeply, so much that it aches between your heart and lungs, in a spot only he can fit. a spot where he can squeeze against both organs, stop the beating in your chest and knock the air out of you. it’s dangerous, leaving you uncomfortably vulnerable.

so you do what you know best to counteract that strange pressure in your chest that makes it difficult to breathe, to speak, to do anything. you throw on a smile on your face and tease him to get under his skin, so that maybe, if he rolls his eyes at you, they won’t pierce into your soul as harshly.

“well it’s lovely to meet the darknight hero,” you grin, batting your lashes, “who’d have thought the city’s beloved master of the dawn winery was saving people from the shadows?”

“please don’t call me that,” he sighs, looking at you tiredly. the expression on his face makes you giggle. “it sounds awfully derivative to me.”

faintly, you’re aware that you’re still hidden in the corner behind the staircase, dead quiet in the middle of the night with just a sliver of space between you. you could just reach up and brush the bangs out of his face, maybe trace that scar you know so well, or even press the tip of your nose to his if you lean closer.

he seems to be aware of the proximity too, because his eyes dart to your lips for just a moment, inhaling sharply as he realizes just how close they are from touching his.

“what would you prefer i call you then?” you whisper.

he doesn’t say anything.

neither of you do, for a bit. just his eyes trained on yours as you both take shallow breaths, narrowly missing each others chests from grazing against one another as they rise and fall, rise and fall.

finally, he clears his throat.

you think he’ll say something—but he doesn’t. instead, he kisses you. enough is enough, he decides, and you’re compelled to agree. enough dancing around the wobbly line that separates you from friends and more than friends—you think it’s been enough years that neither of you do a good job of hiding the built up feelings anymore, anyway.

his lips are chapped. you can feel the stark difference between his and yours as they press up against your soft ones, disrupting your delicate existence with his roughness. it’s not unwelcome, though.

kissing diluc is blazingly warm. his lips, his body, his gloved hands, his breath, all of it is unbearably hot—enough that you feel like you’ll combust at any second. the pyro vision he keeps hung at his waist must make his body run warm, you think. you crave more heat, though. no matter how close you feel you are to the sun, you want more, so your arms wrap around his neck and tug him closer, tangling your fingers in those long fiery locks of his as he groans.

his hands roam your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you flush against his sturdy chest as his lips hungrily mold against yours. air is limited—there’s a burning in your lungs that slowly but surely builds until you pull away, panting for air.

his forehead presses to yours when you do, chest rising and falling as he catches his own breath with lips that are glossed and slightly swollen.

“if i told you what title i’d prefer you used on me, i’m afraid there would be no going back,” he mumbles against your lips.

you’d laugh if you weren’t so breathless and dizzy against him. you’d laugh at the fact that after such a shameless kiss in the dark, hidden corner of the city, he thinks anything he could say would change things more than this kiss has. they couldn’t—not when all your feelings have been laid bare without having said anything at all. a few mere words could never shift anything the way feelings his lips has.

not when you’ve gotten a taste of him, so sweet and hot against your lips, it’s like drinking rays of sun in the sheer cold of dragonspine.

“who said i want to go back?” you challenge, reaching over and tracing your finger along his cheekbone. he closes his eyes, letting out a soft, breathy laugh as he leans into your touch.

“then call me your lover,” he says instantly, “call me yours and i’ll consider us even.”

“even for what?” you raise a brow, looking at him in mild confusion.

he grins as he opens his eyes, leaning closer and kissing against your jaw until he works his way up just beneath your ear lobe, breath trickling the shell of your ear and making you shiver.

“for saving your life, of course,” he teases.

“hero’s don’t require compensation for their noble actions,” you huff, lips curling into a small pout—he pulls away to admire it before kissing it too with a short peck. (he’d tell you that you look adorable like this, but he doesn’t want to sour your mood any further). “and i was perfectly capable of handling that myself.”

“without a weapon?” he asks, looking at you knowingly.

“of course,” you say indignantly. “but if it should truly kill you to be mine, then…” you trail off, leaning to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, making his fingers dig into your hips slightly as he fights the urge to take more, to turn his head and get a proper kiss out of you.

“then…?” he rasps, impatient.

“then i suppose i can call you my lover,” you hum, finally giving into that overwhelming urge of brushing his bangs back, tracing the scar from your past with your thumb. “would that satisfy you, master diluc?”

“just diluc is fine,” he mutters, heat returning to his skin, “i’ve told you that plenty.”

“diluc,” you murmur, voice softer this time, “thank you for saving me. for always saving me.”

“of course,” he swallows thickly, “i will always come to rescue you. i promise.”

“and i love you for it,” you confess, just barely audible, “i always have. since before i knew what love meant.”

even in the dark shadows of the dim corner he has you pressed against, light breaks over his face as he smiles, so charming, so boyish, you think he’s reverted back to the boy you met when you were so young.

“and i have always loved you,” he whispers, leaning down and kissing you one more time, just to remind himself how you feel, “you taught me what love means.”

oh i miss mondstadt and the winery and my first joy of genshin 🥹 diluc the man that you are. you have not gone forgotten in my mind i promise

#writing tag #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

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cherrylovelycherry · 6 days

Text

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and uh... a éclair au chocolat."

How un.fortunate

pairing. Boothill x fem!reader cw/genre. angst, misunderstood, crying, disappointment, frustration, bittersweet ed, some fluff synopsis. he heard part of the conversation with your friends, exactly a bad part. full menu

"Isn't he cute?" One of your friends, Elisa, blurted out. Who carried a small baby in his arms.

"Oh…yes he is!" You spoke, excitedly, taking his small hands in your fingers.

How you loved babies and children in general.

"Can I carry it too?" You asked this time looking at another of your friends, Laila, who was the little boy's mother.

"Sure! Just be careful with his head and neck."

"Hello little one." You spoke to the baby as you held him in your arms as Laila instructed.

Together with your friends, you had met after so many planned outings, which in one way or another ended up being canceled since one was always busy.

Recently one of them had another child. Of your small group of 4 friends, you were the only one who didn't have children until now.

Even though when you were in your student days, you and your friends said that you would be the first to have children.

How unfortunate.

"Oh…he's so fragile." You commented with a soft and cheerful smile.

"He's too cute!" Elisa commented looking at the baby.

"Yeah. And he cries so much." Laila commented in a tired tone. as she gave a soft yawn, it seemed that she was quite tired of the baby, which she had been looking after all the time.

"What else do you expect? He's little." Elisa spoke.

"Is he very noisy?" You asked, curious.

"He keeps us up all night with his crying, you have no idea." Laila responded.

"Sure it's cute at first," said your friend, Myre, "but when you have to deal with them for real… It's a whole other story."

"Are your children also a hassle to you?" You asked with a slight chuckle and curiosity.

"Nah, I love those little ones with my soul." She said, slowly sitting down in the chair at the table where the four of them were sitting. She had to be careful since she was 7 months pregnant.

Your friends, except for Myre, groaned at this.

"How can you say something like that when you're going to have more children?" Laila asked in a tired tone.

"Haha I do not know." She said, laughing, "And I didn't even want to have children."

They all laughed, commenting on one or another trick to make parenting easier. While you stayed talking to the baby with a soft voice. You rocked him in your arms calmly.

"Oh, and wouldn't it be a good idea to put our children in the same academy, just like we planned when we were younger?—" Elisa's words were cut off by a gentle nudge from Myre.

As if to try to silence her.

"Uh…sorry" Elisa's tone of voice was low and with some embarrassment.

You knew very well that in a certain way they felt sorry for you, refusing to talk about that kind of things in front of you.

You really tried not to let it affect you.

"Oh, no. It's totally fine, girls." You spoke, smiling somewhat embarrassed, keeping your gaze on the baby that you still held in your arms.

The baby began to let out soft cries and to move his little arms. You had no idea why.

"Oh, he must be hungry." Laila said, taking a small bottle of breast milk from the bag she had brought with her.

Putting some hot water in it from another thermos that she also brought.

"Here." She handed it to you.

"Are you sure you want me to do it?" You asked, looking at Laila.

She just smiled and shook her head.

You couldn't help but smile at him in response, as you brought the bottle closer to the baby's little mouth.

Then, the baby started drinking his food from the bottle you were holding.

Your friends smiled in reassurance, understanding that you were fine.

"Dear, I had a question actually…" Myre spoke slowly.

"Go ahead." You responded, curious to know what she would ask.

"What about your boyfriend?"

The question made you a little nervous. You had a small worry on your mind, a worry that you've told no one about. Your head was full of thoughts at that momen, it became a sudden silence in the table.

"Uh…well," You let out an awkward chuckle. "Recently we haven't seen each other much." That was the truth.

Lately you had seen your boyfriend less and there was a reason behind it. Boothill was not one to stay on one planet, as he was a galaxy ranger. But that didn't stop him from deciding to stay on your planet for a long time. I went and came back to be with you.

"Well, not all couples see each other every day." Elisa commented, taking a sip of her hot tea.

You were currently residing on a planet that orbited near Jarilo-VI. Or at least that's what Boothill told you.

"She's right, after all not every couple is the same." Laila commented.

They all remained silent, giving each other slight glances.

Of course it didn't go unnoticed by you.

"…We just want you to be a happy girl, sweetheart."

"Um…what's this all about?" You asked, looking at Myre, who after handing the bottle to Laila, took your hand.

"We're worried about you and your situation." She said, looking into your eyes.

"Why…?" That was all you could come up with.

"Lately you've been quite… Distracted or down." This time Laila spoke, with a worried expression.

It was true, you were sure that you had been acting distant lately, at least for the last two weeks. You didn't want to but they had noticed.

"I'll be honest, you're scaring us, sweety girl." Elisa spoke, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes with them.

"You really don't look happy, dear." Myre, after saying that, squeezed your hand tighter, as if she wanted to give you comfort.

"We care about you, you know."

The others nodded as well, you had a feeling what was going to happen, they were very obvious.

They all cared about you, you had known each other for long time after all. You knew what they were going to say.

"The truth is that we don't know if that cowboy is the best choice for you." Elisa's words made your heart feel a little heavy.

They knew almost perfectly who your boyfriend was. They knew that being more metal than human, it was impossible for you to have children.

"Dear," Laila started to speak, "You've told us time and time again that you want children of your own. And you know that he can't give you children…"

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. That was what hurt the most.

She was right, maybe too right.

How unfortunate.

Your gaze was now positioned on the baby, who was now being carried by Elisa.

How much you longed to be able to hold your own children just as you held your friend's child moments before.

You couldn't stop your eyes from filling with a thin layer of tears.

You looked down at your legs, in an attempt to not let them see your face like that.

You let out a silent sigh.

Of course, you knew it wasn't going to be possible to have a baby with Boothill. He was more made of metal and circuits than a living being.

The only way you could have your own children would be to have them with another human. It didn't matter how hard you tried, there was just no way.

Something you didn't know was that the person your friends were talking about was right around the corner from the cafe where you were.

His happiness at seeing you was suddenly turned off, as if it were a switch.

He had heard what they had been talking about.

He saw your reaction.

You didn't deny anything, nor did you say anything in response to your friends' words. In his eyes, you just lowered your head.

If he had a heart, he would have thought his heart was falling towards his now nonexistent stomach.

The beautiful bouquet of flowers that was going to belong to you was now in an alley, exactly in a garbage container.

…

You took out your key to enter your house, you were tired.

You chose to return on foot.

You inserted the key, unlocking the door lock. Entering calmly.

It was a great surprise to see Boothill there.

He could enter whenever he wanted since you had given him a spare key that you had.

It was good for you that he returned to your planet, you really needed his affection now. You were a little down because of the conversation you had with your friends.

"Hello, love." You said, smiling softly at him.

Your eyes were still a little red from the crying that your friends had to witness and comfort.

You fully entered your house and closed the door behind you, approaching your boyfriend so you can kiss him.

Your lips met briefly. You couldn't help noticing that this time it was a much colder and dry caress than usual. He even seemed a little uncomfortable.

He was expressionless, but you could still see something of disappointment hidden behind his eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?" You asked, in a low voice, stroking his cheek with your hand lovingly.

He moved away from your touch, as if it burned his face.

"How unfortunate, isn't it?" He asked as he looked at you.

How unfortunate? The hell was he talking about…?

You took a step forward in an attempt to be closer to him. But he, in response, just took a step back and away from you.

"Don't touch me with those hands."

Those words hurt like a stab in your heart.

Hands… those hands you tried to use to comfort him, caress him.

His look of disappointment was replaced by a look of frustration.

"What do you mean…?" You asked, confused, with a worried expression.

"Oh, you know…" He said, faking nonchalance.

"You can't make your greatest dream come true with me." His words sounded cold.

Your expression dropped, tears slowly filling your eyes, at that moment you remembered the conversation you had with your friends.

"You hear..?" You asked, in a low, broken voice.

You were trying to compose yourself.

Boothill just responded with a chuckle, that hurt you more.

"It's funny how you try to hide your disappointment and your frustration when you see others living the life you want, but you'll never be able to have."

It was the truth after all. A truth that no matter how much you want to ignore, it hurt you more and more.

You tried to open your mouth to speak, but just a small incoherent sound came out.

"No matter how many nights we've lived together, you'll never bear my children."

It was the cruel truth, a reality that you were aware of, but still you let yourself live that lie.

You wanted so much to have his children.

Yet he couldn't give you what you desired.

You took a deep sigh trying to calm the turmoil of emotions that were going through you.

"Boothill…" You whispered, trying to keep your voice from breaking any more than it already had.

His name came out of your lips like a mantra as you were drowning in tears.

"Stop crying." His tone of voice sounded sharper this time, which hurt you even more.

He was acting completely different than usual. He wanted to hurt you?

No, he wanted to get away.

But the pain was too great, tears began to run down your eyes.

"Maybe your friends are right."

"Maybe you should consider looking for someone else."

The tears were falling down your cheeks like a river and your sobs were getting worse.

Those words were so cold that they made your body freeze, your breath came out shaky.

"Please don't say that." You just managed to speak through sobs.

With those words, you walked towards your boyfriend in an attempt to hold him tight and kiss his entire face. To hold him close to your body. But as you were approaching, he just took a step back.

"Just admit it." He muttered in between his teeth.

That filled your head with questions. Admit what?

"Eh?…" You blurted out, giving him a confused look. With your hand you dried the tears that stained your cheeks.

"You also think the same as them."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"You're disappointed, you're frustrated… aren't you?" This time his tone of voice was much calmer, as if he was more tired.

You couldn't respond.

"Say it."

"It's not like that, I'm not—" Your words were interrupted.

Boothill laughed lightly at your denial. "Be honest."

Your brow furrowed slightly. What had he heard then to make him say that?

"You didn't say anything when they told you i wasn't good for you, that you weren't happy."

So he had heard most of the conversation.

But not exactly everything.

"You didn't say anything when they said it was better for you to look for someone else, someone human."

Again you wanted to try to speak but his words were a constant punch to your heart, your body felt heavy.

It was a cruel reality.

You knew that if you stayed with Boothill, you would never be able to have children.

But that didn't matter, it didn't matter to you. You loved him, more than anyone could ever understand.

You loved him, more than your own life.

You didn't want to lose him.

He was the person you wanted by your side for the rest of time.

"I did say something, you didn't fully hear how the conversation went. We can sit down and talk." Your voice rose and fell in pitch as you tried to appease the lump in your throat.

He didn't respond, lowering his gaze to the ground for a moment, as if he was taking the time to think about what he would do next.

"If you're not going to make the decision, I'll help you decide."

He proceed to give you the spare keys to your house.

You stayed still before that, feeling how your eyes were filling with tears again.

Wait, hold on.

"You should search for a human male, someone who can give you what you desire more than anything."

Your body had gone completely tense.

The keys were now gently placed on your palm. Your eyes couldn't process what was happening at the moment. "I'm not going to come back."

As the moment passed and his words and his action were processed in your mind, you slowly managed to raise your face to look at him.

You felt as if at any moment your heart would explode in your chest.

He was going to break up with you. He wanted to break.

Boothill was going to leave you.

"I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill your desire." He started to speak again.

You could hear the disappointment in his words.

"That's it?" You asked through your tears.

That was the last thing he was going to tell you?

Your question was ignored.

"Take care… Darlin'."

In response you didn't manage to say a single word.

You just watched him leave your house.

As you watched the door close, your legs betrayed you and you almost fell to the ground, but managed to hold on to the furniture.

It was impossible for you to contain your tears as they now fell like waves, your breathing became heavy and the sobs were now unbearable.

You had a terrible time that night, that week, that month, that year.

How unfortunate.

"Be careful. Hold on to the ice cream you might drop, dear."

You let out a soft sigh looking at the little girl.

Your little girl.

The little girl was full of energy, you always wondered where she could get so much energy.

You adored her with your life, thanks to her you were able to stop being stuck in that hole of hopelessness in which you were.

You really wonder what things would have been like if you hadn't had the opportunity to raise and care for this little girl.

Currently it has been 6 years since your relationship ended.

Every time you stop to remember what the first 2 years were like, a chill would run down your spine. You basically left yourself abandoned. You weren't living anymore, you just survived. Your dreams of having children faded over time, you decided to give up on that dream.

You could say that it had been a difficult year, with many ups and downs.

At the end of your second year, your friends tried to cheer you up. They tried to get involved with other people, but it was all in vain, in the end they were just people who wanted to take advantage or make use of your body.

So you also chose to stop that. In your mind, you still had hope that one day he would return. However, you saw it as impossible. Because he left, it's not like it was the first time they had disagreements or big misunderstandings.

Quite apart from that, he also noticed your actions, becoming more and more discouraged with the passage of time.

For the third year, one of your friends who worked in a hospital, told you about the most recent crisis she had attended to while she was on duty.

The mother of a girl who was about 1 year old had just died and there were no records of family connections or anything.

So the hospital staff tried to take care of the little girl as much as they could. Since they knew that child care centers were not the best at taking care of children.

You don't really remember how things happened. By the middle of the third year, you were trying to get custody of the girl.

Things turned out well for you, everything happened too fast.

You were more than dedicated to her, going to new parent courses, reading books, watching videos, among other things. It was like the world gave you another chance.

You were finishing ordering your own flavor of ice cream, holding a baby carriage with one of your hands. Yes, you also fought to get the adoption papers for the baby who was barely 9 months old.

"Mom! I dropped it!" Your little girl's small voice shouted, sounding worried and sad.

You finished asking, turning your head towards the scream, sighing and laughing softly. "Leave it there, honey. Come, I'll buy you another one."

She came running again, smiling that she would have another new ice cream.

"This is the last one I bought, be more careful this time." You spoke to her with a somewhat stern voice as you watched her jump with joy, extending her small hands towards the employee who was handing her her new ice cream.

"'Kay!" She let go quickly and ran again in the opposite direction from where you were.

You shook your head as you went back to paying for the ice cream.

The little girl left the games, moving a little away from the initial place where she was. She was a little distracted, walking while happily eating her ice cream.

In one of those, she turned her gaze, opening her small eyes in surprise, now running again in that direction.

He approached a tall man, who seemed to be in his own world at that moment.

With all the daring in the world, the little girl spoke. "You look like my daddy!"

The girl's voice caught the man's attention, looking at her with complete curiosity. "Um…" He looked up, looking around, looking for his parents.

When he didn't find anything, he got a little worried. "Where are your parents?"

The little girl was more than amazed analyzing the man. "My mommy is over there." She said, pointing in the direction she had come from.

Meanwhile, when you finished paying for the ice cream, you looked for your daughter.

Not seeing her nearby, you thought the worst, adrenaline rising through your veins little by little. You started looking for her while shouting her name out loud and asking people near the playground if they had seen her.

You were so scared that your hands were shaking, you had left your freshly bought ice cream on the store counter.

Approximately 5 or 6 minutes passed until in the distance you saw a Little girl running towards you.

A strong sense of relief filled you.

By the time she finished running, coming to stand in front of you, the first thing you did was to bend down and hug her.

“Clementine! You scared me, honey.”

The little girl slipped her arms around you, reciprocating the hug. Then, as if remembering something, she pulled away as she turned her head back.

“Look mommy, that man looks just like daddy.” She spoke, excitedly.

You looked at her in confusion, picking yourself up off the floor, grabbing the baby carriage with one hand again. You looked up, and saw who your daughter meant.

You felt as if all the air in your lungs had disappeared. Your eyes could no longer open.

Your heart was now beating painfully hard in your chest.

Why is…? How…? Is it…? Your mind was a complete chaos of thoughts, all of them racing through your mind and making it feel like it would explode. Your head feels light and you feel dizzy.

You were so shocked that you couldn't even react, not blinking again or being able to move an inch.

You couldn't take your eyes off him. He was there, standing in the distance, looking back at you.

His white hair now tied in a low ponytail. His gaze, piercing and intense, remained the same, just like your memory.

He felt so many things at once. Even how fate came to work at the perfect time for you to name your little girl that name. The same way he named his daughter.

A mixture of surprise and disbelief had taken hold of him, but his body betrayed him.

His body, without even processing in his mind what he was doing, began to approach slowly.

You seemed as if you were frozen in time, he watched you as if no time had passed. Your appearance was almost identical to how he remembered you 6 years ago. The only thing was your hair, which was now short, almost to your shoulders.

"Lil' lady."

Boothill's voice sounded in the small space, watching the young girl turn her gaze towards him.

He held out his hand in front of him, letting the little girl take his fingers. “I'm Boothill, dear. May I know what's your name?”

He introduced himself to her, since moments before he had not had the opportunity to do so.

She looked at him intrigued, squeezing the fingers that held her as she raised her face to speak.

"I'm Clementine!" She replied excitedly, raising her shoulders in an excited gesture.

Your daughter, turned her little head towards you, still holding Boothill's metal hand. "Mommy, he even has a name like daddy!"

No matter how much you tried to formulate words, nothing came out of your mouth.

The child's innocence was endearing.

He just laughed softly, a warm, somewhat nostalgic smile forming on his face. “Yeah, we got the same name.”

The fact that there was a little girl right there who was calling him "daddy" and he had no idea what was going on was a complicated situation. But, he also couldn't help but find it so cute and lovely that he couldn't stop smiling even if he wanted to.

He turned his gaze to you, taking a few seconds before speaking.

"Can we talk?" His tone had a hint of imploration.

You nodded your head weakly in response.

As you did so, you heard your daughter speak again, this time in a more shy and embarrassed manner.

"Dadd— Mr. Boothill!"

"Yes, darlin'?" He tilted his head to the side, focusing his gaze on the girl in front of him again.

"Can you hold me?"

"Clementine!" You reproached her for her question, she didn't even know Boothill well and she was already being open with him. Besides, you didn't want him to get upset about it.

He was a little surprised by such a bold and direct request, but he couldn't say no, of course.

"Hah, sure, why not?"

He had to kneel down to take her gently in his arms.

Seeing your daughter in his arms was one of the most surreal scenes you had ever experienced.

Once he picked her up, she put her arms around his neck, feeling a little safe and comfortable being held in his arms. He gave you a warm smile to reassure you so as not to make you more uneasy than you already seemed.

Although that gesture of his made you even more uneasy. You avoided his gaze, looking at your baby, who was still sleeping peacefully in the stroller.

As you started walking towards your house, you could hear how people nearby whispered as they pointed at the scene.

"He's so tall!" "What a cute girl!" "It looks like it's his dad…"

You bit your tongue lightly, trying to ignore all the sounds.

Looking at his expression, you could tell that he was confused, maybe even a little overwhelmed. The way his eyebrows knitted together and there was a slight frown on his face.

He had that same nervous look on his face as before. He was as bad at hiding his emotions as you.

You remained silent throughout the small stroll of approximately 10 minutes. You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn't dare look at him. There was no doubt that a tense aura surrounded you.

You arrived at the front of your somewhat large house. It wasn't the same one you had 6 years ago, you moved because you needed more space for your children.

You unlocked the door, and let him in, he still had Clementine in his arms as the girl had her face hidden in his neck since she had fallen asleep.

Once the door was closed, you looked at her for a moment, a soft tender look filled your features. After you finished observing her, you turned your gaze towards him.

The room had a warm and cozy atmosphere, with a pleasant temperature that made it easier to breathe.

Both you and Boothill stayed quiet for a few seconds before you spoke again.

“Can you lay her down on the couch?”

You told him as you squared your other baby's stroller. Taking him out of this and carefully taking him to his room, so that he could continue sleeping.

He obeyed your request, carefully laying her down. He took a few seconds to take a good look at the child's face.

He noticed how her small chest rose and fell steadily on the surface of the couch’s pillows, letting out small and soft sighs in the process.

By the time you returned to the living room, he was sitting on the couch, frowning a little and deep in thought.

You let out a quiet sigh, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what was coming.

You also sat on the couch, only on one that was almost in front of him.

Seeing you close to him left him breathless.

Now he was able to see you much more closely.

The same bright and unique eyes, the same small and soft lips.

The expression on your face was a mix of nervousness and discomfort.

He remained silent for a couple of seconds, still trying to process everything.

He parted his lips, finally starting to speak.

"You managed—"

"Sorry for—"

You and him literally spoke at the same time.

You immediately became silent for a moment, feeling a little nervous and embarrassed.

A small, almost unintentional chuckle escaped his lips. Despite everything, the situation was somewhat funny and entertaining.

“You go first.”

He spoke in a gentle, almost sweet voice. His gaze remained focused on yours, paying attention to your expression.

You could feel your mouth going dry, the words not wanting to come out of your throat.

You fidgeted a little, feeling somewhat guilty about what you wanted to say.

"Ah, I'm sorry…" A small gasp escaped your lips as you tried to find the right way to say it. "…for the fact that my daughter said you looked like and had the same name as her dad."

You wondered where the security had gone and the many words you had thought and even rehearsed saying to him the first time you saw him again.

“Oh, nah, that's alright."

He chuckled again, sounding somewhat calm and even amused.

Your nervousness only grew as you felt embarrassed. You thought maybe he would get mad or upset.

The room was silent again.

It went like this for a few minutes until he spoke.

"You managed to have children." He said, with some nostalgia.

"Yeah…I managed."

Your voice came out shakier than you originally planned.

You didn't want him to know how nervous you were, you didn't want him to know that your heart was racing a thousand beats a minute and that you were thinking over and over again about so many scenarios, most of them bad.

He seemed to notice your nervousness, even though you tried to hide it.

He gave a reassuring smile before continuing to speak.

"It…surprises and makes me quite happy." He admitted with sincerity.

You only chose to smile at him in response in a somewhat shy manner.

"By the way, your husband won't be upset that I'm here?" he asked.

“Upset? That's an interesting choice of word.”

A slightly sad expression appeared on your face. Your lips curved downward and your eyebrows frowned.

He had misunderstood you.

You didn't know if you should clarify his comment, if you should explain to him or if you should keep quiet.

You sighed, deciding to speak and be honest with the cowboy.

“Boothill…I don't have a husband…”

The cowboy's eyes widened at the sound of the words coming out of your mouth.

He couldn't tell if you were just kidding or if you were saying it seriously. He was really confused.

"Did you divorce?" he asked.

You shook your head. You lowered your gaze, staring at your fingers on your hands that were clasped together.

“That…” You hesitated for a few moments, searching for the right words. “That implies having been married in the first place. I was never married."

You spoke as you raised your head again, looking at him with a small smile.

"…I'm a single mom, Boothill.”

The cowboy was surprised at the news. He expected many possibilities, but he certainly hadn't thought of this one.

After letting this information sink in, he looked at you with a confused expression.

"But your daughter said I looked like her father—"

Despite all the clues you gave him to understand the situation, he still didn't reach the true conclusion.

That gave you some humor, you assumed he would be nervous.

You let out a small laugh, looking away from him for a moment.

"I adopted my two children." You said once you stopped laughing, looking at your daughter, who was still sleeping peacefully on the couch next to you.

"And…maybe I made the mistake of telling Clementine about you."

He was silent for a few moments as he continued to process the information you had just given him.

Oh.

The expression in his eyes changed from one of confusion to one of surprise.

His eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly in shock as he seemed unable to form any words.

He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt and guilt at all the conclusions that passed through his mind.

“Wait…”

A few uncomfortable seconds passed before he continued. "Why do you say that?"

"Uhm…" You also took care to organize your words, so that they were direct.

And, before you could answer him, your baby, who was sleeping in his room, started crying. Probably because it was time for him to eat.

You quickly got up from the couch, smiling apologetically at him as you left the living room to enter your other son's room.

He watched as you ran into the room.

The cowboy was so distracted with the news you had told him before leaving that he couldn’t help but hear the whole exchange that was going on in the room next door.

Your voice was low and gentle, almost singing to soothe the baby’s cries.

It was like a rollercoaster of emotions.

He leaned back against the backrest of the couch, covering his face with his free hand.

He had to digest all that had happened.

Not only did you manage to have children, but you never married and on top of that you got custody of two children that you did not give birth to.

After a few minutes, you were able to finish feeding your little baby.

The crying had stopped, leaving him in a calm state.

You were able to leave the baby's room once again. Only this time with your son in your arms since he didn't want to sleep again.

As soon as you reentered the room and saw the cowboy’s position, you laughed internally, letting out a soft sigh.

You sat on the couch, but this time next to him. Placing the baby in your legs.

"Sorry for the delay."

You stayed quiet for a while, watching as your son grabbed your fingers and played with them.

"When she was younger she found a photo of both of us. And well…I had to tell her about the relationship we had." You sounded a little embarrassed, however you were no longer nervous, on the contrary, you were calm.

He dropped his hand from his face and turned to look at you, but you continued to look down at your baby.

He listened to your words for a few seconds, now putting his hand on his chin, pondering the new information you had given him.

"And she thought I was…?"

He wasn’t quite sure how to say it without being too frank, but you had a small smile on your lips, guessing what his words would be.

You nodded your head, looking up at his face and watching his expression change.

His initial surprise soon turned into something else.

Your little girl believed and thought that a cowboy like him was her father.

How cute.

You still remember when you had to tell him about your past relationship. Your daughter was barely 2 years old when she found letters and a photo. Specifically from you and Boothill.

Before her gaze full of curiosity and many questions she asked you, you were transparent with her and told her about what your relationship with him was like.

That afternoon, she began referring to him as her dad.

You, who couldn't imagine that in perhaps other circumstances you could have considered starting a family with him, you let him call him that.

Telling him more things about him, that he didn't always stop on your planet, etc.

You allowed yourself to remember him that way, since over time you managed to stick to his words; "I'm not going to come back."

The room fell silent. Your gaze focused on the baby in your legs, as he held onto your fingers, his gaze locked on Boothill.

"I assumed you would never come back so I let Clementine continue calling you that." Your voice sounded somewhat bitter as you spoke.

He remained silent for a few moments before a small laugh escaped his mouth.

"That explains why she said I looked like her dad." His own words had made it all make sense to him at that moment.

"Yeah…"

You both remained in front of the other in an awkward silence, you didn't really know how to continue the conversation.

Your daughter's words kept replaying in your mind.

“You look like my daddy! “ She said it was as if no time had passed. In your head you couldn't help but think that it felt like 6 years ago, it felt like the first time you met him…

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you felt a shiver run down your spine.

His eyes, watching you so intensely, felt like they were burning you from within.

“Why didn't you get a partner?…” he dared to ask, in a tone of voice you couldn't identify this time.

You didn't expect that question.

"Uh…"

It was the only thing you could articulate, since once again you were at a loss for words.

You avoided his gaze a bit, looking at a random spot on the floor. You didn't know how to answer that, or rather… you didn't know if you wanted to answer.

When you didn't answer, Boothill thought you didn't want to talk to him. He understood he was probably overstepping a line.

"It's okay, you don't have to—"

But he was interrupted by your voice, after finally finding the words that were lost inside your mind.

“Because I was waiting for you." Your voice came out slow. Fragile as a whisper.

You had been waiting for it. Past time.

Again you avoided looking directly at him but you could practically feel his stunned gaze on you.

He hadn't expected that answer. Instead he had expected many excuses.

'I'm not interested in a relationship.' 'I focus on my children and myself.' 'I never found the right person.'

Anything, anything. But not that.

She waited for me…? He thought.

He continued to analyze you with a stunned expression, seeing the state you were in, and then a pang of regret hit him.

He wanted to say many things. He wanted to apologize.

But his own words felt caught in his throat. His mouth parted open a little, but he couldn't say anything. His mind went totally blank.

Faced with his other lack of speech, you chose to go straight to the point this time.

"Why did you come back?" Bitterness and nostalgia.

"…What do you want of me?" Frustration and sorrow.

Those were your emotions that predominated in you at that moment.

What were you looking for? Did he want to leave you in ruins again? You didn't want to feel vulnerable again. Even though now you're feeling that way again.

Those words hit him like a punch in the face.

The frustration and sadness in your voice only made him feel worse about himself, his guilt increased as every word left your mouth.

He couldn't find the words he wanted to say. His mind was a mess, and every time he tried to start speaking. Only some incoherent sounds came out of his mouth. He tried to speak, but his words died in his throat.

His eyes watched you desperately, not knowing what to say. He felt how in those moments he had become a total idiot. A completely lost man.

"I wanted to see if you were okay." His voice also sounded like a whisper, calmly.

Your words sounded almost like reproaches, which they truly were.

There were so many things you wanted to tell him, so many questions that you wanted answered but you were holding back. You just couldn't find the words as well.

"I…" He started again, with difficulty.

"I never forgot about you."

At his words, you couldn't help but frown.

"Forget…?"

You were now even more frustrated. Frustrated with him, and even more frustrated with yourself for still feeling this way about him.

"It is unfair." you said, your eyes now filling with tears, you were holding back the urge to let your feelings out.

"After being gone for 6 damn years, you come back and tell me that?…" You refused to look at him, because if you did, everything you had been ignoring, your feelings and sorrows, were coming to the surface.

"It's too unfair…" You felt your vision now blurry and the salty taste of your tears on your lips, which simply came out without delay.

Your baby, who had stopped seeing Boothill, was looking at you, as if sensing your discomfort, grabbing your fingers with his small hands, bringing them to his small face.

The cowboy was beginning to understand your frustration, he was frustrated himself, he felt guilty that after so much time he was back in your life, and that you had to cry because of him.

He could say that you looked more vulnerable than he remembered, with your body shaking as you cried and your voice breaking and filling with frustration, despair and sadness.

You couldn't stop the tears from coming out like a waterfall.

You felt a lump in your throat as you tried to keep yourself from sobbing as much.

Each time you inhaled to take a breath, your exhale became a small broken sob.

You never thought that the reunion would be like this. When you dreamed of his return, it was always a happy dream, a warm and emotional reunion.

But it wasn't, it was the opposite.

The last time he saw you, you were crying, and now that he saw you again, you were crying again.

He brought his hand to you, trying to wipe the tears that were now freely falling from your eyes.

His touch alone sent a small shiver through your body.

You moved backwards away from the touch, shaking your head as if telling him not to do that.

His touch brought you too many memories that you'd tried to bury for a long time.

It made you miss him even more, miss the good times you had when it was just the two of you.

That simple thought caused another sob that escaped from your lips. The tears continued uninterruptedly.

"Please no."

He wanted to hold you, embrace you tightly, wipe away your tears and tell you that he wouldn't leave you again, never again.

But just a minute ago you had tried to keep away from his touch, so the only thing he could do at the moment was to keep his hands to himself.

Seeing you in this state, crying bitterly and being speechless and motionless, made him not want to move from his place. As much as he wanted desperately to hold you, he just stayed there, watching.

"Darlin', I-" He spoke, being totally interrupted by your daughter, who had just woken up.

His words echoed within you, calling you darlin'…

"Mommy? Why are you crying?"

Her small voice cut through the tense, silent atmosphere of the room. Like an oasis in the middle of the desert.

You were surprised, since you hadn't even realized that your baby had woken up, probably because of your small cries.

You turned your head quickly, looking at her as she rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up properly.

You wanted to speak, but all the words seemed to have escaped your brain. The only thing that came out of your mouth was a strangled sigh, trying to calm yourself as you wiped away the tears that continued to fall.

Until you finally managed to answer her, "I'm fine love, don't worry.", with a small, forced smile. Trying to convince her that you were fine, even though your face was red and tearful.

With one hand free, you managed to run your hand over your face, wiping away the traces of tears.

Your little girl's face was troubled as she looked at you.

You let out a sigh, asking her to come closer.

She did and you brushed a small unruly strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Honey, can you take your little brother to your room with you?” your voice to her was always sweet and soft.

“'kay, mommy.”

Despite your still teary eyes, you laughed softly at your daughter's obedience. “What a good girl.” You said in a whisper.

Just as you said, she carefully picked up the baby in your arms and walked with slow steps to her room.

Once she disappeared after closing the door to her room, you covered your mouth with your hand, in an attempt to stop the sobs that arose.

You felt his gaze on you at all times, which made your eyes sting even more. Maybe you should have refused his proposal to talk.

“Please.” At first his voice faltered a bit, being more of a whisper. Almost afraid of being expelled from his mouth.

Suddenly you felt the couch move quickly. By the time you realized it, he was already holding your face.

The metal of his hands made the heat in your cheeks from crying cool down.

With an undaunted look, he spoke again, “Please…”

Oh, if he had a way to cry, he'd be doing it right now.

“…give me 6 more years.” Even though he couldn't feel the warmth emanating from your cheeks, its softness that he only felt when your face and his face collided. He wanted you to feel his touch, soft and caring, like a piece of porcelain.

You stood still, not struggling to release his grip, your eyes focused on his.

He knew he didn't even deserve to make a request, but he wanted to try anyway.

“Give me those years you lost to try to make up for.” Just by looking at him, you could sense that he himself was two words, “please” and “sorry”.

You were terrified by his proposal, you were afraid that a similar situation would happen again. Your brain did its best to reason, while your heart gave itself totally to him, to accept his proposal.

Your mouth opened slightly, looking for words to come out, but nothing came out. Not even sobs. The only ones that came out were tears.

He didn't stop talking, he was letting the feeling that was eating him up inside take over him. “And… if in that time I don't make up for how bad you felt, I'll stop trying.”

He felt like a dog with its tail between its legs. Begging, but in a way more shameful. He was putting his pride aside by giving you this proposal.

And yes, he himself believed that only 6 years was not enough time to be able to ask for forgiveness in appropriate ways.

Your shoulders moved involuntarily and you finally started sobbing again. Even though you wanted to yell at him like you had done in the past on some occasion, you were too overwhelmed to even do that right now.

His words affected you more than you expected.

As much as you struggled to hold on to reasons, your heart longed for his presence every day for the last 6 years.

All the suffering you felt, the tears you shed, and the times you wondered what your relationship was worth to him.

It was painful. Thinking of all those things made your chest ache.

Even in such a delicate conversation, he did not release your face, still holding it tightly in his hands.

He gently wiped away your tears with his thumb for a few minutes, as if he were cleaning a mirror, which was useless and ridiculous, but he didn't care. He hoped to at least make you comfortable. He could tell how hurt you were from the tears, and it shattered his heart into pieces, leaving no trace behind.

He was scared. He was scared that you didn't want him again like before. And he understood you if you didn't.

“Let me try, please.”

You could see a deep regret in his eyes as he caressed your cheeks.

Those feelings.

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to avoid seeing that look on him.

You couldn't think, not when he was touching you that way.

His touch, a feeling that you thought you would feel no more.

You felt your heart contract at his words, his proposal echoed in your mind, repeating itself continuously.

Despite the fact that you didn't give him a direct answer, you made him close his mouth, pressing your body against his.

You really longed for it for so long.

You still weren't entirely sure if his proposal would work, but it was at least worth letting him try. Who knows how things would turn out this time.

He didn't expect your reaction, but when your body was pushed against his, his chest felt so full. He reciprocated quickly, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

He felt like he had you all to himself again. It filled him in a way he couldn't describe.

He closed his eyes gently, burying his face in your neck. The scent of you still hadn't changed, it still felt the same.

He let out a shaky breath, his arms not loosening their grip on you.

Now it only depended on time for things to get better. Time and him.

Maybe he could even really become the father of your little ones. Who knows.

How unfortunate he felt.

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