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#both of them know that the other loves them
lovifie · 2 days
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Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley, and how he ended up with a football team worth of kids.
CW: Like 2k words of fluffy Simon, and then 1k words of filth, massive breeding kink, creampie, disgusting sext talk mess. Enjoy! 🩷
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It's not his fault, it's yours. 
He met you really early in both of your careers, before either of you had really any important ranks, nor years of experience. 
But a mission together to recollect some intel was enough for the two of you to learn each other's names. 
It was back when rage still blinded more of Simon's senses, the loss of her family still recent. But you didn't know, obviously, and he wouldn't tell you. 
During that mission, he would constantly snap at you, unnecessary remarks and barks at you whenever you would ask something. 
Not that you would back down because of the overgrown chihuahua, usually just shouting back and ignoring him. Letting him to simmer in his guilty feelings.
But the time together helped to learn what buttons to press and when to act as if you hadn’t seen something, and by the time you made it back to base, to your different units; you said goodbye shaking hands and saying: “Nice to meet you, Riley. Don't die.”
He didn't say it back, but he felt it more. 
Years went by before he saw you again, and after a while, he simply assumed you did in fact, die. 
He was higher in his career, already being respected by most and always addressed as Ghost. The rage of his past was already on a secondary level. 
More mature, more knowledgeable, more experienced. 
But for some reason, he couldn't forget you. He had come across so many different people who would back down just for him looking at them, yet when he screamed at you, you didn't let him win. 
He missed you. 
He would never admit it, but he missed the girl he met on that mission those years back. Maybe if he had said it back you would be alive. 
Maybe.
“Riley?!” An unmistakable voice asks, radiant with happiness from his back. 
He turns around, eyes wide open looking for the source, for the girl he met so long ago, for the girl he thought had died. 
But he sees you.
The woman, on the same rank as his, grown, more mature, more knowledgeable and more experienced. 
Scars and wounds adorning your body just like his. 
“What is that mask, Riley?” You ask, smiling widely. “You turned emo?!”
You laugh loudly as you finally walk up to him, an awkward position of not knowing how to say hi after so long apart. 
“Aye, didn't want people falling in love with me like you did.” He says, completely baffling but still hoping it was true. 
“Argh.” You say, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm. “Well, excuse me, lover boy. Didn't know you have spent all this time fighting the ladies.”
There hasn't been any ladies. Not after you. He realises it in that moment.
“It's the uniform.” He explains, a stupid smug smirk under the mask. “And you? What have you been up to?”
“The usual, learned German, I knit now, killed a couple of hundred terrorists, and got my flying licence!” You enunciate, slightly jumping with the last. 
He doesnt realizes that the mask is not covering his eyes, and that no matter how cold and stoic he tries to act; you can see clearly as day the affection and happiness from seeing you again. 
This time, when you say goodbye, you keep each other numbers. A way to stay in contact, to check once a month if you are still alive. 
But again, time goes by before meeting in person again. 
And when it happens, Ghost is already on the 141; and it's not him the one that sees you first. 
“We are having a surprise guest on the next operation.” Price says one morning while they are having breakfast. “She’s from another base, but has an amazing resume. She's a lieutenant too. And with an ugly character, like you” He says, pointing at Ghost.
And he knows it's you. 
It gotta be. 
And a couple of days later, when you enter the mess hall; walking behind him and slapping the back of his head, he is elated.
“I knew I was smelling trash.” You say, looking down on him. Barely a bit taller than him when he is seated. 
He turns his body, resting his arm around your hips. “How long are going to be following me for, ya rat?”
“Hmm, not my fault you can't do your fucking job, useless bitch.” You say with a smile on your face as you rest your arm over his shoulders. 
“Well, somebody gotta take out the trash, you cunt.” He says, a smug smile on his face. 
“Aww, are you telling me to take you out, lover boy?” You say, resting your hand on your chest. That makes him bark a laugh, patting your side after, before saying. “I'm glad to see you are still in one piece, idiot.”
“The feeling is mutual, dickhead.” 
And that was the first time that Simon’s hand was resting on your hips, but definitely not the last. 
The first mission together with the 141 was an absolute shit show, everything that could have gone wrong… went wrong. And if it wasn't because of your stubbornness, it would have been Simon’s last mission.
Being trapped under debris, unable to get out of the burning building. Everyone was already out, only him inside, talking on the radio to tell the team to leave him behind. 
Except you, who managed to slip through Price's orders and run into the obvious death trap. Able to take the debris keeping Simon trapped with his help, both of you using the extra strength that only comes out in emergencies. Unknowingly, both of you going to the extreme of your resistance to make sure the other didn't die inside the building. 
And when he was in the hospital bed, days later, and you came to visit him, and you leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first kiss, but not the last one. 
The two of you, already adults perfectly functional, able to instruct armies, take down terrorist organisations, and yet… it was not until 8 months after the first kiss that one of you managed to ask the other out.
“The team were going out for drinks tonight, but they bailed… do you want to go still? The two of us?”
To this day, Simon still believes it was his doing that the two of you went alone to the pub, and you still have not had the heart to tell him it was you the one who asked Price, Soap and Gaz to tell him they couldn't go.
And once the door was opened, everything went smoothly and easily. Not bothering to call the relationship in any way, as if the two of you haven't been exclusive to the other from the first moment you met. 
Still, even more time went on before something more than kisses went down. Until the two of you went on separate missions, months spent apart from each other, only to reach base again at the same time. 
And as if you had planned, you walked to each other room. Meeting exactly in the middle and jumping into each other arms. 
Not that anyone else on the team had doubts about what went on between the two of you, but still was a surprising view. And you pulled Simon by his hand inside of his room, every doubt crumb was erased. 
And once it started, everything else went in a blur. By the time you took notice, the two of you were already married for a couple of years, the honeymoon phase was still strong, and expecting your first child. 
And Simon, who had always promised he would never have kids, now was obsessed with your pregnant self. During the pregnancy, he couldn't keep his hands away from your body.
Constantly feeling you up, every inch of skin, from your hips, to your breast, to your tummy. Completely obsessed and enamoured with your body, changing and adjusting to bear his child. His big-ass child. That had you wabling from the second trimester. 
He missed the birth, away on a mission when you were in your seventh month. Promising the mission would last a week, but he didn't take a step into your house until three months later. He didn't look Price at his face for weeks after the due date passed. 
The worst part was that there was no communication with you, complete radio silence. Again, like so many years ago; you could be dead and he wouldn't know. 
And when the plane landed, he took the quickest shower of his life. Because the worst case scenario was coming home to an empty house, but the worst second was holding his child for the first time with the blood of his enemies still on his hands. He wouldn't taint such an innocent thing. 
The door almost fell from the hinges when he entered, eyes looking through the house. Breathing only because he could see light from the bedroom, and then you walked out of the room. 
Looking at him with tears on your eyes as you run to him, jumping on his arms and getting crushed by his hug. Muttering apologies as he kissed your head, he still has not forgiven himself for failing you that day. 
You shake your head, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. He freezes on his spot, as if he just remembered that he had a child; your abdomen way flatter than when he left. 
“C’mon, Si… Do you not want to meet your son?” 
A son.
He had a son. 
He followed you into the room, unable to say a word as he saw the tiny human sleeping in the middle of the bed. 
He walked behind you, waiting for instructions, his brain struggling to work normally. You tell him to sit down, picking the baby to lay him on his arms. The father finally holding his son for the first time.
And when the baby exhaled a satisfied sigh at the warmth pooling from Simon’s body, the first tear rolled down his cheek.
He didn't sleep that night, it didn't matter that he had barely been able to sleep the weeks before, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the baby. So that night, he stayed seated, with the baby on his arms and with you sleeping by his side.
The happiest night of his life. 
He finally took his parental leave, almost smashing the phone against the wall when Price called him; even though it was to congratulate him. 
And Simon, who always had believed he would never have kids, now had one. And that might have been the first child he had, but it was definitely not the last one. 
Because a couple of weeks later, when the two of you went to base; to introduce the baby to his teammates, Simon couldn't stop thinking about how good you looked with his child strapped to your body. 
His little head resting over your full breasts, sleeping and perfectly unaware of every problem in the world. But Simon couldn't stop looking at your chest, body changed to bear and care for his child; it was only fair he paid back. 
So when Gaz asked if he could hold the baby, it was Simon who helped you take the baby out of the little koala backpack; letting him hold it.��
And with a weak excuse, took you to his bedroom. Barely managing to close the door before bending you over his desk, pulling your pants down and stuffing your cunt with his thick fingers. Giving you barely any prep before the strain on his hardening shaft was too much for him to keep it away from your soaked cunt. Groaning in your ear as he thrusts fast and hard into your sweet pussy, rubbing your clit with his fingertip making you cling into the desk. 
“Such a good fucking mama you are.” He moans into your ear. “Driving me fucking crazy every time I look at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking breathtaking, darling.”
Half of what he says doesn't make sense and the other half you can't even hear from over the sounds of the moans. 
“Gonna fuck you full of my child again, gonna keep you barefoot and pregnant, mama.” He moans again, kissing your neck from behind as his free hand keeps roaming your body, needing to feel more and more of you. “Looking like a bloody goddess with my child, gonna keep fucking you until it fucking catches, and then again, and again, and again… Do you want that, mama? Do you want it as much as me?”
“Fuck, yes!” You moan back, just as fuck out as him. The unforgiving pace pushing the breath out of your lungs, your legs barely able to hold your weight but it's not like Simon would let you fall. 
More and more words and promises keep falling from Simon's mouth, making it hard for your orgasm to take any longer to wash over you. 
But then Simon turns you around, laying you on your back and pulling your legs up, your knees beside your head; before he starts to thrust into you again, his happy trail rubbing against your clit. 
“Gonna make it catch, gonna fuck you so deep it is not even going to spill. Gonna get you fucking pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna go away for a fucking second. Gotta give the little shit a sibling, ah?”
The stretch of your legs being pulled so back into your head making it almost uncomfortable if you were able to think at the moment. Your hands grabbing into his forearms to steady yourself. 
“The best fucking mama in the world you are, ah? Taking such good care of him.” He groans, engulfing your boob with his enormous hand. “Getting these tits fucking massive just for him, fucking little shit don't know how lucky he is to get such a good fucking moma.”
And you are ashamed to admit it, but the disgusting praises are enough to throw you over the edge; your head falling back against the desk with a loud cry of his name. 
“Fucking hell, darling.” He groans just like you. “That's it, choke my fucking cock, love. Milk it dry, suck it in. Fuck! Such a fucking perfect cunt, I would fucking live here. Sucking me in so good, such a greedy fucking cunt. I'm gonna fuck you so deep, I'm gonna give you twins, darling.”
And he doesn't give you time to breathe, his hips slapping hard against yours making you mewl at the overstimulation. Clenching down at the prolonged orgasm. 
You hear him groan over your exhausted body. “Fuuuck… Shit, love. Yeah… just like that, take it in, love, take it in. Hold it in, don't let it go to waste love.”
You fill him spill deep inside of you, pulling your legs impossibly higher lifting your butt off the desk, bending you in half with your cunt completely exposed. 
“Such a beautiful fucking cunt.” He says before leaning down, kissing your clit as if he was pecking your lips, only for him to literally make out with your cunt. Making you hiss and pull his hair back to make him stop and be able to breathe for a second. 
He pulls his head back, only to accumulate the saliva and arousal on his mouth and spit it back over your cunt making you shudder. He lowers your legs, impaling you back on his still hard shaft, pulling the breath from your lungs once more. 
“There you go, mama. Stuffed and plugged, so there is no risk.” He says, letting your legs rest down as he moves his hands to each side of your hips, pushing you impossibly closer to him, hitting as deep as he has ever reached. Slightly moving you up and down so your clit rubs against his pelvic bone, making you whine as you clench around him.
“Simon… Si, I need to fucking breathe.” You whine, trying to grab his hand.
“Nah, you got this…” He says without looking at your face, completely hypnotised by the way your folds part to take his cock in. “You are doing amazing, sweetheart.” 
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Is only hours later, that Simon comes out of his room. Clothes changed, showered and without you (who is currently sleeping on his bed, too exhausted to even stay awake), and he walks up to the mess hall, where he assumed the boys are. 
Picking his beloved son from his captain's hands. “There you are, my boy.” He says softly, picking up the baby that looks ridiculously small in his arms. “Time for bed.” 
“Oi, LT!” Soap calls him. “So when is his sibling being born?”
He looks at Soap, his expression changing to a stern one. “Don't be disgusting, Johnny. That's my family you are talking about, have some decency”.
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vivwritesfics · 3 days
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Eepies
Self indulgent, based on THIS request that I've already written lol
Norlestappen x reader
Warnings: talks of anxiety, mentions of dom/sub dynamics (no smut)
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Max and Charles were like two large, overprotective dogs. Especially when it came to their partners. The scene was always the same, she and Lando walking along in front of them or doing something goofy with Max and Charles behind them, watching over them.
(Max and Charles stood there, arms folded over their chests as they watched Lando give an interview. It was unprofessional to have her there with him while he was being interviewed, but nobody could deny them of each other. It took everything in Max and Charles to let them do it alone, to not step in and take control of the conversation when it turned to their relationship).
Their protective nature wasn't just reserved for the track. It happened in their Monaco apartment, too. Like when she was climbing on the counter to get something out of the cupboards, or when Lando fell asleep while he was gaming (usually found by Max, who stayed up later than any of them). Or when she was feeling that mysterious sense of anxiety that she couldn't understand.
She didn't need to understand it, because they were happy to take care of it for her. It was always the same routine when she was feeling like this, Charles holding her on the couch, keeping the fluffy blanket wrapped around her shoulders while Max made her something to eat. Lando did whatever she needed of him, usually following Max and Charles's lead.
They loved their partners, loved being protective over them. But, with the boys driving for different teams, it wasn’t always possible.
She was more attached to Lando. It wasn't that she loved Max and Charles any less than she loved him. It was just easier to trail after Lando than it was to trail after Max and Charles.
(Maybe it was because, when it came to sex, she and Lando were submissive compared to Max and Charles. Sometimes they let them 'take control', but it wasn’t real control. It was easy to let those dynamics slip out of their sex life, especially with how protective Charles and Max were.)
She followed Lando to the McLaren garage. Charles and Max weren't offended. They kissed their heads and sent them on their way, with the promise to meet outside of the McLaren garage after the practice session.
They were too busy during the practice session to see each other, even to exchange a quick kiss. But they could see them stood together when Lando wasn't in the car.
They were so goddamm cute, Max and Charles couldn't help but feel their hearts swell.
The service practice session really took it out of the both of them. Even if she wasn't driving, she was still yawning as she sat in Lando's drivers room.
He yawned with her, falling on the sofa beside him. "We need to go meet Maxie and Charlie," she mumbled as she leaned against him, pulling her knees up to her chest.
Lando kissed the top of her head. "In a minute," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her.
They quickly fell asleep. Neither of them had meant to, but they'd been so tired, so comfortable leaning against each other. Lando snored softly against the top of her head and she gripped his shirt and drooled against his chest.
They couldn't know that Max and Charles were desperately running around searching for them. Max and Charles knew how sleepy the both of them got (they'd started calling it 'Eepie', which drove Max and Charles crazy), knew they must have been sleeping somewhere.
But they couldn't get into the McLaren garage to check. The employees at McLaren wouldn't let them in to check. As desperate as they were to find their sleeping partner, they couldn't well storm into the garage.
But then a member of staff found them sleeping in Landos drivers room, curled up against each other. The staff at McLaren realised that, in order to get her and Lando back to their hotel room, they needed Max and Charles.
So, Max and Charles were led through to Lando's drivers room. Max knocked softly on the door and pushing it open.
"They look like angels," Charles whispered as he leaned against Max. Max nodded in agreement. They really did look like angel, but they couldn't have been comfortable.
As they usually did, Max and Charles played a game of rock paper scissors to decide who carried who. The loser attempted to carry Lando.
Charles grinned as he scooped her into his arms. It had taken a moment to get her to let go of Lando but, as soon as she was in Charles arms, she was holding his shirt.
Max took several attempts to pick Lando up. He was small, but he was packed with muscle and he wasn't light. Max tried several different ways of carrying him before he settled him over his shoulder.
"Let's get our angels home," he said and leaned forward to give Charles a kiss.
The wonderful, incredible @biancathecool has requested more about their dynamics so expect that later lol.
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cutielando · 3 days
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mr. and mrs. ~ oscar piastri
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Summary: Wedding of the year is finally here between the two favorite youngsters on the grid. Everyone is invited!
Words: 1.3k+
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Oscar and Y/N.
Y/N and Oscar.
Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.
Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.
They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.
Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.
Real and pure.
When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.
They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.
They made it work.
But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.
He needed to officially make you his.
Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.
You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.
Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.
Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.
He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.
“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.
“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”
“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.
As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.
It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.
“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.
All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.
“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.
The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.
Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.
It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.
You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.
Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.
After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.
Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.
“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.
Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.
The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.
And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.
Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.
“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.
“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.
You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.
You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.
After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.
But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.
The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.
You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.
Nothing could ever be better.
Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.
Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.
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a11eya · 1 day
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TITLE: do you still think about me?
PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.
You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.
You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.
(It's not fine.)
TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut
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The ryokan’s lobby is bustling, voices a soft buzz echoing through the space. Some guests are like you, waiting for check-in, and other guests are partaking in the complimentary drinks and snack bar. It all calls to mind vacations you went on with your family, growing up. 
Sighing, you sink into an armchair, letting the fatigue from a long trip on a train and subsequent car ride sink in, shed off. 
“Here,” Rie says, setting a cup of tea and a cookie on the table in front of you. She sits in the chair across from you. “You’re grumpy because you haven’t had any sugar today. Eat these. There’s more up front, at the snack bar.” 
“Thanks mom,” you say, and she leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You wince. 
“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can get away with your sass. Especially while we’re on vacation,” she tells you, then lifts her own cup of tea to her lips. You scrunch your face up at her. 
Her eyes flick past you, and she blinks rapidly. You recognize that expression—up to no good. 
“Oh hey,” she says, affecting a casual tone. “Look who just walked in.” 
Rie waits for you to look, but you’re not so easily led around. You narrow your eyes at her. She raises a brow at you. A moment passes. 
Your curiosity’s too strong. You turn and regret it. 
It’s Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell is he doing here?
You immediately swing back around, scowling deeply. You can feel your ears getting warm. 
She gives you a Cheshire grin, finger gunning you. “It’s your first love.”
“Rie, I will leave.” 
She scoffs. “Yeah, right. And miss out on the massages we booked? The onsen? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” you say darkly. 
She snickers, tilts her head at you. “You don’t want to say hi?” 
“Not really, no,” you say. “And if you call him over, I’ll kill you. Hanta will be sad, but he’ll get over it.” 
Rie laughs. “I don’t know about that. He is dating me, after all.”
“I’ve known him longer. He’ll forgive me.” 
The two of you switch over your attention to an approaching receptionist. 
“Thank you so much for waiting,” he says. “Your room is ready now. Please follow our staff. We’ll take care of your bags.”
You let them take your luggage, too distracted by staying out of Bakugou’s line of sight to pay attention to the small talk the receptionist’s making. Thankfully Rie’s chatting cheerfully with him, leaving you to your task. 
As you enter a hallway leading off the lobby area, you catch a last glimpse of Bakugou. He’s speaking to a staff member at the front desk area, presumably checking in. He’s alone. You wonder if anyone will be joining him, or if he’s here by himself. 
Shaking your head, you push away those thoughts. It’s none of your business. This ryokan’s rather large, and it’s popular with tourists and locals alike. You doubt you’ll see him again during your stay. 
You stare doubtfully at the email Sero forwarded you, then look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“Hanta, this is a luxury onsen ryokan. And you want me to go with Rie? Why aren’t you going?”
Sero claps his hands together in front of his face. “Please? The agency denied my time off request because we’re so busy. You gotta know how busy we are, even holed up in your office.” 
You frown at him. “The agency denied you? That’s crazy. You haven’t taken time off the whole year.” 
“I know, right? Anyway, Rie doesn’t want to go alone, and the reservation at this place is only valid for so long. Cancelling’s not an option.” 
You frown. “If they denied you, they’ll probably deny me too, Hanta.” 
“Noooo, it doesn’t hurt to put in the request! Plus, you haven’t gone on vacation in years. Treat yourself! This can be my months-in-advance birthday gift to you.”
You try one last time. “Are you sure Rie even wants to go with me? I know you want this to be a surprise, but maybe you should ask her if there’s anyone else she’d want to go on a trip with.”
Sero gives you a look, as if you’d just said something unbelievably stupid. “I’m not even going to respond to that.” 
You snort, smiling. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Hanta. I’ll take all the pictures of Rie and send them to you if the agency does grant me the time off.”
Sero slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, bud.” 
“I miss Hanta,” Rie says, collapsing on her back onto the bed. 
You push both of your bags to the side, to be unpacked later. The entire far wall of your room’s lounge area is glass, with a door leading out to the outdoor area and open-air bath, and you give in to your urge to step outside onto the wood, deck-like floor. 
The bath rises from the floor to your right, rectangular, spacious. The staff member told the both of you it’s fed from the onsen, and the steam it’s giving off dissipates into the cool spring air. The bath and deck are built to overlook a large pond with koi swimming in it, giving the impression that where the deck ends the water begins. The far side of the pond is lined with trees and shrubbery. Wooden partitions on either side of this area enclose the space, giving it a sense of privacy. 
It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it’s so quiet here. Aside from the ambient water sounds from the onsen on the property, birdsong from the nearby forested area, there’s little to interrupt this emerging feeling of serenity. 
“You saw him literally before we left,” you say. “Rie, come out here and look at this view. I call dibs on using the bath first.” 
“You could be more sympathetic. We haven’t been able to see each other much this month,” she grumbles, but she comes out to join you anyway. 
“Okay, you can use the bath first,” you tell her. 
She grins at you, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Thanks, friend.”
“The things I do.” You don’t really mind. You have the entire long weekend to enjoy this place. The peace and quiet are already doing wonders for the tension in your shoulders.
A twinge of guilt passes you in a wave. After the staff member who’d escorted you to your room had given you both a short tour of the space, it really hit you how expensive this all was. 
“Rie, you really should’ve come here with Hanta,” you tell her, frowning. “He should’ve pushed for the time off or adjusted the reservation. This is way too nice of an experience to pass up.”
Rie snorts. 
“Don’t stress,” she says. “You think he didn’t try all that? It was either keep the reservation with someone else or lose out on a lot of money. I wanted you to come, so don’t overthink, silly.”
You lean your arm against hers. “Thanks, Rie. I’ll get you and Hanta something nice for your birthdays.”
She hums, and the two of you lapse into silence, appreciating the birdsong, the late afternoon sun gilding the pond, the surrounding trees in warmth. 
“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Rie asks. “I thought you worked out all those feelings for him back in high school.” 
And there goes all that peace. You groan, turning and heading back inside, grabbing your bag and starting to unpack your clothes. Rie follows you, sprawling out onto your bed this time to be as annoying as possible. 
“I did,” you say, because not answering would result in incessant pestering. Better to nip this conversation in the bud so it doesn’t come back up again while you’re on this trip. You tell her, “We’re cool. You know that. You go to the same get-togethers.”
Since graduating from UA, you’d kept in touch with Sero, who you’d met because he’d been the hero you’d been assigned to for the management course’s third year project. You became good friends, as Sero’s one of those good boys, best boys, genuinely kind and fun to talk to. 
Through your friendship with him, you’d met some of his friends—Kaminari, Kirishima. Mina, Sato. Bakugou. 
While you’d befriended the others pretty easily, Bakugou was a different story. And it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He’d chilled out considerably by your third year.
It was because of your cringey, super obvious crush on him during your first year. 
You were so painfully obvious about it, everyone in your class knew. It didn’t take long for kids in the other courses to take notice. When Bakugou entered a room you were in, you would freeze and forget what you were saying. You’d sneak glances at him, and your entire body would warm up if your eyes met. Even thinking about it now, as an adult, makes you want to die a little.
Thankfully, whether it was because he chose to willfully ignore you or because he just never found out, your crush ran its course. It helped a lot that you began interacting with Bakugou within social circles because of Sero; it humanized him, made him real to you. The fantasy of a crush can’t survive knowing someone, getting to know them, you found. 
Still, probably because of that history, you never got close to Bakugou, while at UA and after. You were too embarrassed, and now you’re just not super interested. If you don’t count this past year, since graduation, you’ve seen him only a handful of times, always in passing and never one-on-one. 
But if you do count this year, specifically the past six months, you’ve seen him a lot. 
At a get-together at Mina’s place. At Todoroki Shouto’s birthday a couple months back. At a dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina a few weeks ago. You figure he’s had some free time open up, to accept the hangout invites that he once left unresponded to in the group chat. It’d make sense, since he’s at this ryokan when everyone knows he’s a workaholic. 
You’re happy for him. Work-life balance is super important. And you guys aren’t getting any younger.
“No, you guys are weird together,” Rie says. 
You throw a pillow at her. To your annoyance, she catches it easily. 
“What do you mean by weird?” you ask.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. He always looks like he’s bitten into a lemon when he sees you.”
You roll your eyes. “Great. Can we stop talking about Bakugou now?” 
“Last question, I swear.” 
“Last question for the entire trip about him,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her. 
She sighs, as if this is a huge burden on her. “Deal. I was just thinking—what did you even see in him when we were teenagers?”
“Okay, but why are you thinking about this at all,” you say. 
“Just answer the question.”
“It’s not that deep,” you say, shrugging. “I liked his face.” 
“Really?” Rie’s expression, disgruntled and appalled, makes you laugh. 
“Don’t act like he’s not objectively really attractive. He’s handsome, be real.”
“Maybe to some people,” she relents. “But his personality cancels it out, carry the two.” 
“He’s mellowed out so much over the years,” you say. You feel a little odd, finding yourself defending him. “He’s sweet, when he wants to be. Remember how he got Mina that bracelet she wanted so badly, for her birthday? Or how he picked up those special oranges for Hanta when he went on that one mission?”
Rie looks at you for a long moment. As your words settle into the silence, you begin to feel self-conscious. But it’s not like what you’d said isn’t true. Rie knows this. 
Just as you open your mouth to no doubt incriminate yourself further, she leans back on the bed and closes her eyes. “I guess you’re right. You done folding those clothes? I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner. Hanta says it’s kaiseki.”
Dinner is absolutely delicious. Your server tells you and Rie that the chef’s designed the menu to feature ingredients native to the region, ingredients in season. Everything’s fresh, and even dishes you aren’t normally particularly fond of have you cleaning your plate. You feel spoiled. 
You take lots of pictures. Of the dishes, of Rie. You send them to Sero. 
Hanta: The food looks great! My girl looks even better!!! Send more pics pls
Rie’s pleased when you show her the messages. After fussing over her appearance, she makes you take a picture of her in your room’s outdoor bath, hair elegantly twisted up and off her shoulders, the ambient lighting softly illuminating her face. 
“I’m going to take a walk, see what that little bamboo garden looks like at night,” you tell her. She waves at you with one hand, tapping away at her phone, no doubt sending messages to Sero. 
“Don’t drop your phone in the water,” you say, and she makes an impatient sound, shooing you.
Smiling, you leave her to it. 
Now that it’s nighttime, the ryokan is quieter, more subdued. It’s easy enough to find the bamboo garden. The paths are brightly illuminated, the walkways clear and easy to take. Maybe because it’s the evening, but you encounter few people. Most are partaking in the onsen, unwinding after a long day, you guess. You plan to do so yourself, but you stumble across a dimly lit sitting area overlooking a small pond and waterfall. It’s pretty, and you can’t resist lingering. Taking a seat on a bench, you let your mind empty as you watch the glimmer of moonlight on the water. 
“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you startle, turning. 
Bakugou’s standing there, looking uncharacteristically soft and undone in the onsen’s yukata. His hair is a little damp, spikes fallen. 
Seeing him in traditional wear takes you aback; you’ve only ever seen him in casual clothes—jeans, shirts, sweats. His hero suit, all sleek lines. The yukata’s a good look on him. 
“Oh hey, Bakugou,” you say, then hesitate, feeling awkward. What to say? Should you pretend this is the first you’ve seen of him here? 
While you flounder a little, Bakugou walks over to sit in a chair nearby, facing the water. You’re bewildered at this turn of events. You’re surprised he stopped to say hello, let alone sit and have a conversation with you.  
“Saw you and Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend at dinner,” he says. “You on vacation?” 
Blinking, relieved, you reply, “Sort of. Long story short, Hanta was supposed to come out here with Rie, but work denied his time off. So I’m the replacement Hanta.” 
Bakugou looks at you. His eyes narrow. You shift in your seat, feeling a little bit like a bug under a microscope. Did you say something weird?
“What about you?” you ask, trying to lift the focus off of you. “You here on vacation?”
“...Yeah. For the weekend,” he says, looking back at the pond, exhaling sharply.
For someone on vacation, he doesn’t look too happy about it, you note. 
“Us too,” you tell him. “What do you think of the ryokan? I haven’t gotten the chance to explore yet, but what I’ve seen is gorgeous. Did you just use the public onsen?” 
“It’s alright,” Bakugou grumbles, and you blink, face scrunching up in incredulity. 
“You must have really high standards to say that, sir,” you say, and he snorts. An expression you can’t quite make out in the low light crosses his face, fades. He really is a handsome bastard, you find yourself thinking. 
He says something you don’t quite catch. 
“Sorry?” you say. Internally, you scold yourself for your idle thoughts. Another part of you argues back that there’s no harm in looking. 
“How’d you know I used the onsen?” he repeats, looking a little annoyed.
“Oh,” you say, surprised. Without thinking, you lean forward, reaching out to touch his hair. 
Bakugou turns his head sharply; he grabs your wrist on what seems like instinct, halting you. You freeze, mortified.
“I’m sorry!” you say hastily. He drops your hand immediately, like you’re contaminated. You draw back. Flustered, you continue, “It’s just—your hair’s still a little wet. I took a guess. Sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 
You were treating him like he’s Hanta, or Rie, as if you’re close friends. Jeez. 
“Forget it,” he says gruffly. 
There’s a long stretch of silence, and you begin to think of excuses to make to escape. 
Just as you open your mouth with one, he says, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” 
“I—I think Rie wanted to check out the town’s morning market, and the temple nearby,” you say. “She likes to sleep in, so we’ll probably do that after my morning run. The staff said there’s a scenic walking trail through the forest, so I’ll probably check it out.”
You force your mouth closed before the rambling continues. Wait, you should ask him the same, right? To be polite?
But before you can say anything, Bakugou grunts, then stands. 
“Go back to your room,” he tells you. “It’s getting late.”
With that, he leaves. You sit there for a long moment, staring after him.
“Hey, welcome back,” Rie says from her bed, covered from nose to toes in a blanket. Her eyelids droop in a way that tells you she’s minutes from sleep. “You were gone for a while.”
“Yeah, sorry,” you say, closing the door behind you. Woodenly, you begin to gather clothes to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? Go ahead and sleep; don’t wait up for me.”
“Mmkay,” she says, eyes already closed. 
You move around as quietly as you can, getting ready for bed. 
All the while, you can’t help but think about the conversation you just had. About Bakugou.
For the past couple months, at gatherings with mutual friends, it’s been like this when you talk to each other. Awkward, with a strange underlying tension. You’re not sure if it’s your fault, or his, but. You wish you could be normal around him. It’s only like this with him.
As you climb into bed, getting settled, the memory of him in his yukata flashes across your closed eyelids. The moonlight on his face, cooling the red of his eyes. His hand around your wrist.
Fuck. 
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Notes: Hello friends! This fic is a very belated birthday fic for our guy, my little muse 🧡 This is intended to be a twoshot, and I hope to have that second part up next weekend. Please look forward to it!
A couple notes, as there are some specifically Japanese items referenced in this fic:
A ryokan is a Japanese-style inn! Onsen are hot springs. So an onsen ryokan is an inn that features hot springs on the property. Here, here, and here are videos you can enjoy of people visiting some.
Kaiseki is a multi-course, traditional Japanese dinner. Some of the videos I linked above show the kinds of kaiseki offered!
Thank you for reading! Hugs and kisses 💕 Until part two!
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mareestoermers · 19 hours
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i think we are all forgetting something when we talk about how toxic patrick, tashi, and art are — or when we decide one is “worse” than the other. they all have moments of seeing right through it, seeing each other’s toxic behavior for what it is, and STILL want and need each other in this possessive, envious, visceral way.
1. in the way beginning, tashi is clearly flirting more with art than patrick, and patrick is visibly annoyed. art sees right through it and even challenges him like “okay, let’s leave”, and has this little smirk on his face because he knows patrick won’t give up on tashi.
2. tashi immediately sees the visible tension and love between art and patrick, and literally orchestrates their first kiss. she sees right through their repression, and even calls herself a “home-wrecker” but still entangles herself with them, especially patrick because he’s clearly the better tennis player at that point and that is tash’s ONLY true love. tennis. that’s what she desires most in him, and patrick knows that. he even calls her out on it in the dorm room scene. but they have this mirroring fire in each other that neither of them can give up, not until patrick breaks the balance and bails — tashi’s injury is literally a metaphor for the balance shattering between all three of them when patrick leaves her.
3. before this, patrick sees right through art trying to break them up, and even admires that quality — maybe even feels smug and flattered because art is jealous and feels left out from both tashi and patrick. patrick has known this all along, we saw it in the “tick-serve” scene, where he even swears to tashi he won’t tell anyone but he still tells art, who is desperate to feel a part of them and patrick wants that, too — even keeps that close intimacy with art that we see in the churro scene (swoon swoon swoon).
4. haven’t you noticed that arts desire to be great is only ever tied up in patrick and tashi? how he needs to beat patrick to win tashis affection, how he needs to win in tennis so that tashi can live through him, how he lives up to his potential in the ending only because tashi and patrick push him to it, in their little fucked up ways? he knows this — he even admits that he’s playing for tashi, that he knows she’s living through him. he even admits he’s playing a fucked up little game with patrick when they’re in the sauna. yet he still does it. again, he knows what’s happening, sees right through them — still does it, still loves them.
5. when tashi calls patrick to come pick her up he knows it’s not just to tell him to throw the match — and despite how she battles him about it, they still have sex in the car, because he already knows. he’s so fully aware of her and her game and he’s so willing to be caught up in it, the same as art.
just some examples of how they all have moments of clarity and agency and yet they still choose to be entangled in one another because they’re all fucked up in their own, individual ways, and they’re all living through each other for their own specific needs. arts is to be seen as worthy, as great, but only through their gaze. tashis is to have the career that was stolen from her. patricks is truly to be in love and in lust with both of them, because we even see that from the beginning that tashis love alone will never satiate him; it has to be arts love, too. that scene in the sauna when he thinks he’s lost it from art is the most sad and fucked up we ever even see patrick. on top of tashi asking him to throw the game — he’s so defensive of arts feelings.
in short this is an actual love triangle (and i would go as far as to see it as a polyship). you can’t erase one without the whole thing unraveling, and you can’t say one character was the “worst” without picking apart the motivations and pointing to the fact that their bad behavior was never a secret or left unchecked.
even at the end, patrick signals to art that he slept with tashi — art knows and they still have that intimate completion at the end, all three of them. art living up to his potential and embracing patrick fully (id argue this could even be a metaphor for embracing his bisexuality), patrick having both tashi and arts affection again, and tashi playing a phenomenal tennis match through her little white boys — in such a visceral, emotional way that she cries out like she did in the beginning and the last frame is her smiling.
in a fucked up way, they all get what they wanted out of each other.
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 day
Text
Injured: Before
Alexia Putellas x Baby!Reader
Summary: Alexia struggles
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Sometimes Alexia will look at you, asleep in your crib without a care in the world.
Sometimes, she will watch you and try to fathom how you came from her. Sometimes, she looks at you like you've come out with two heads and a tail. Sometimes, she will not see you as a baby.
But other times, she looks at your little fingers and little toes and tiny little feet and just be in awe of you. She laboured for hours to have you, cursing your existence in those painful moments before scolding herself for those words when she finally had you in her arms.
You were so beautiful then, passed out asleep on her chest after your stressful birth. You napped and napped and napped before finally awakening again.
Alexia expected to look at you and find everything slotting into place.
She expected to look at you and have the whole world stop in awe of you.
Her Mama had told her countless stories of what her own and Alba's births were like. She spoke at length about how magical it was to have her girls in her arms, for everything to finally make sense in the world, to be filled with such love for their tiny bodies that she couldn't help but stare at them.
Alexia had been ready for those feelings, for those months of indecision between giving you up for adoption and keeping you for herself to finally settle, to finally know that there was no way she could ever think about giving up the perfect little baby girl in her arms.
She had been excited for those feelings.
But they never came.
Not truly.
You looked into Alexia's eyes and...you looked like any other newborn in the world.
There was no instant connection.
There were no fireworks or bells ringing.
It was just you and her and the complete lack of recognition between you both.
You could have been any other baby in the world in that moment.
There were moments though, like now, that Alexia can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
You fit almost perfectly in her arms, wrapped in the almost perfect swaddle Alexia has made for you. Alexia looks at you now and sees her daughter. She can imagine you growing up with her. She knows in these moments that she did the right thing in not giving you up.
But Alexia knows that these feelings will disappear by the end of the week. She doesn't know what's wrong with her. Some days, she can do nothing but stare in awe at you but other days she can barely get out of bed. She can barely do anything but cry even as she feeds you and puts you down for naps.
It's like drowning, Alexia thinks. It's like drowning in a river.
She's fighting against the current carrying her downstream, to the waterfall at the end that will surely be her downfall. She fights it sometimes, desperate to surface for air before being forced under again.
There are longer moments of calm where she can grab onto a branch of a nearby tree and try to climb to the safety of the banks where you wait for her but the current is too strong and Alexia can only hold on for so long until the water claims her again.
She savours these moments with you, where she looks at you and can be so happy with your little eyes and your little nose.
You don't look like her yet but you are still practically a newborn, coming up on one month soon. Newborns don't really look like anyone in particular.
Alexia hopes that you will look like her soon. Maybe that's what she needs to pull herself out of the river. Maybe seeing you look like her will snap her out of whatever stupid daze she is. Maybe you looking like her will be what finally calms the current.
Alexia clings to a branch now as she settles down on the sofa with you, letting you latch on for one of your feeds.
The house has been on lockdown since your birth. Just you and Alexia.
Her Mama has tried to come around and weasel her way into helping but Alexia's adamant she can do this on her own. She doesn't need help. She doesn't want it.
But she also doesn't want anyone to see her like this, so broken and confused and unable to form a real, proper attachment to her newborn.
It's just a little hiccup, a bump in the road that will be over soon so Alexia can fully focus on you and love you like how you deserve to be loved.
As soon as this is over, as soon as the river calms or Alexia finally hauls herself out of it, she will let people visit.
She doesn't want anyone to see her like this.
You whine a little bit and Alexia winces.
Your latch isn't good.
"It's okay, it's okay," She says to you, forcing you to unlatch so she can adjust," Just give me a moment."
Her grip on the branch loosens.
You whine a bit more, growing fussy.
"I know," Alexia insists," Just...Just wait."
The current picks up and Alexia tries to hold on.
You try to latch again but it's even worse than before.
The current forces her off the branch.
You start crying.
"No," She says, panicked," No, wait. Wait. Please...Please!"
She's forced downstream again, dunked under the water.
You keep crying. You sob and you can't latch again no matter what Alexia tries.
"Come on," She begs," It's okay. See? You're nearly there! Just...Stop crying...You just need to stop crying..."
The stream takes her closer and closer to the waterfall and Alexia's sobs mingle with yours.
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luveline · 1 day
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
��I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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bby-deerling · 1 day
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Love your Hcs ❤️ they're so creative 🥰😋🎉
would you do one for me "caught in the act" - with Zoro, Kid and Law making love to you when suddenly someone of their crew enters (they don't know about your relationship) 🙏pleeasssee
getting caught with you (nsfw)
masterlist || commissions
cw: secret relationships (being exposed), zoro's part turns into a circus, zoro is an idiot (<3), lowkey crack taken seriously, kid is a menace, brat taming (w/kid), rough sex (w/kid), exhibitionism kinda (w/kid)
tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @zorolux
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zoro
so caught up in the delirium of each other's touch, neither you nor zoro notice sanji entering the supply closet until he lets out a gasp and promptly faints from blood loss upon catching a glimpse of your naked form. both of you scrambling as the loud thud of the cook collapsing to the floor prompts the signature clack of nami's heels to approach the pantry, zoro hastily throws a nearby tarp over both of your bodies right as the navigator swings open the door.
"ew, gross!" she squeals, her scream echoing loudly and luring in the rest of your friends who were milling around nearby on the deck. while chopper barely even registers what's going on with you and zoro, more focused on attending to sanji's well-being, usopp, brook, and luffy are all laughing hysterically, though luffy is more so laughing along because everyone else is. that much is clear when he loudly asks why you both are naked, wondering if you'd both ripped your clothes or something similar.
"they were having sex, luffy!" usopp hisses, and luffy's eyes widen before he grins. "oh! you two must really like each other then, huh?" he exclaims with a smile as chopper helps sanji to his feet. zoro's patience was already wearing thin, but when the cook shoots a biting remark about the swordsman not deserving you his way, he's up in an instant and ready to clash with him, completely forgetting that he was naked. when the rest of your crewmates shriek in shock, he mindlessly and instinctively grabs the tarp that was covering both of you, accidentally exposing you.
"zoro, what the hell!" you squeak out, as robin creates a barrier of hands around your body to shield your privacy, using some of them to return some of your clothes to you so that you can get dressed.
"sorry..." he mumbles as he grabs his sweatpants and pulls them up quickly, before snapping at the rest of the crew to quit staring.
"blech. are you two together? because i made a bet that..." nami starts, and both of you cut her off with a simultaneous yes; usopp sighs as he hands the navigator a handful of cash, and the crew begins to disperse, including you and zoro, who are now far too embarrassed to finish what you had started.
kid
"you gonna keep staring, killer? you can stay and watch if ya' want." kid taunts when killer opens the door to his bedroom and finds you splayed out underneath him; though your relationship was a secret from the rest of the crew, it's a sight killer was accustomed to walking in on, and he simply sighs and rolls his eyes from underneath his mask. kid doesn't stop the movements of his hips for a moment, causing you to smack him on the forehead and tell him to cut it out until killer leaves the room.
"dinner is served. was wondering if you two planned on coming to eat any time soon." killer says, almost bored and completely unfazed.
"kinda busy here." kid replies, tilting his head towards you as you cover up your breasts with your arms, annoyed.
"i'll save a couple plates then." killer says, letting out a small, irritated sigh as he leaves the room, thankful that his mask hides the secret blush on his face.
"you're a real asshole, you know that? you can't even bother to cover me up?" you hiss at him once the door shuts, but your angry ramblings are broken up by gasps as he slams his thick cock deep inside of you.
"y'know i just love fucking the attitude out of you, pipsqueak. i know you love it too." he replies with a smirk; you let out a huff as you bite back a moan, knowing full well that he's right.
law
as the soft hum of music and a mixture of moans fills law's office, the two of you are too wrapped up with entwining tongues with each other and the way he lazily thrusts into your sloppy pussy to notice the creak of the door as it opens.
"oops, sorry captain!" shachi exclaims, doubling over laughing as both of you nearly jump out of your skin from the sound of his voice. for a split second, law considers simply teleporting both of you to his bedroom to continue unraveling you, but he knows that refusing to talk about this with shachi would cause misinformation to spread around the submarine like wildfire; so, he thanks every star hanging above his head that the two of you were already underneath a throw blanket and puts all of his weight on top of you to shield your body further.
"what do i have to do to get you to keep this a secret?" law asks with a deep sigh, neck straining as he looks up at his snickering friend.
shachi taps his finger on his chin a few times as he hums, trying to make sure he comes up with the most advantageous answer possible for himself. "no night shift or cleaning the floors for a month." he says with a smirk; law relents, giving him a nod before telling him to get out of here, which shachi responds to with an enthusiastic "yes, captain!"
though before he can slip out of the office, the door swings open once more; this time it's bepo, who lets out a loud gasp, his eyes widening until he suddenly turns on his feet and starts screaming down the hallway to anyone who would listen that the two of you were finally together.
"dammit bepo, you ruined my deal!" shachi yells as he follows his polar bear friend, causing law to sigh and teleport a heavy chair against the door, preventing anyone else from walking in and interrupting his attempts to shower you with affection from the inside out.
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simpjaes · 1 day
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heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️
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MDNI.
this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k
tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)
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It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him. 
It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.
Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it. 
Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights. 
Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask. 
You already know. He’s had a bad day.
So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.
And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.
When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you. 
And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him. 
Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s. 
The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker. 
It’s always you who can distract him. 
And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.
Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more. 
Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern. 
Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything. 
And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.
It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more. 
Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?
“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says. 
And, of course, you do. 
“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place. 
“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?” 
You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.
You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe. 
“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”
“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”
You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you. 
It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible. 
He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to. 
So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.
You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears. 
He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him. 
Him, him, him. 
And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible. 
God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him. 
And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way. 
It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget. 
And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits? 
Out of respect, no less. 
“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation. 
Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.
It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back. 
Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl. 
“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now. 
After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for. 
And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs. 
Hah. 
“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”
You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust. 
“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back. 
”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark. 
You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely. 
Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him. 
He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face. 
“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him. 
And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality. 
By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice. 
“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.” 
You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you. 
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shoot an arrow through my heart
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max verstappen x reader
there's something you need to hear max say, but you're not sure if he's actually going to say it. you do know one thing though, it was always gonna be you and max.
a/n: started this longer ago than i'd like to admit but here we are! a big thank you to my fave beta reader K and to @scuderiahoney who helped me figure out all the banner image stuff. based on prompt #966 from this list.
masterlist
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It starts with Lando. Because doesn’t it always? 
Lando says shit he doesn’t mean, Lando says things just for the sake of saying them. Lando says things as if they are fundamentally truths when they are in fact are lies.
And so, one moment you’re hanging out with Lando, letting him talk you down from buying the little trinket of the week you’ve fixated on, and the next he’s saying that Max is in love with you, saying it like it’s a truth, and then moving on as if he hasn’t just tilted your world on its axis.
And then, before you know it, you’re banging on Max’s front door trying to figure out if it’s true or not. 
Trying to figure out if your best friend is in love with you.
“Max! Open the door.”
He doesn’t.
You honestly don’t know if you want him to, or what you’re going to do when he does. Or if he even will, Max doesn’t know you’re here and you don’t even know if he’s home.
You’re just about ready to search for the spare key, the one you told him to hide in the firehose down the hallway because having a fake rock in front of his door makes no sense when he lives in an apartment building, when the door is flung open and a very grumpy looking Max, headset in hand, is giving you just about the most fed-up, unimpressed, stare you’ve seen in your life.
“Are you in love with me?” You can’t help it, the words foreign on your tongue but there’s an urgency to get them out and into the space in between you. You’re so desperate to hear him say it back.
Max blinks at you, bewildered at your words. You can see the gears turning in his head trying to work out what you just said and if you’re being honest you don’t know if you should be offended at the fact that the answer isn’t an immediate yes.
His brow furrows and his lips purse, “what?”
A beat passes, and then another, and then the idiot actually has the audacity to close the door.
You roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it you know that he knows that you’re doing it. As you push the exasperation out of your lungs you knock again.
“Max, nuh-uh, that is not going to work, open the door and answer my question.”
Nothing.
You bang your fist on the door one more time for good measure, “Max, you know I know where your spare key is and we both know that I’ll let myself in if necessary.”
It’s true and he knows it. 
There have been many nights where you’ve verged on the edge of too far gone and walked from the club to his apartment. Nights where you didn’t want the fun to end so instead of going home you go to Max’s where you can cuddle and coo at Jimmy and Sassy and sit around in comfy clothes and watch as Max putters around doing whatever it was he was doing before you came over.
It’s true. He knows it. But still, he doesn’t open the door.
You sigh and softly thump your forehead against Max’s front door, through the absence of your knocking you can hear his nervous shuffling on the other side. The inquisitive meows from the cats, the faint scrape of the peephole cover as Max checks to see if you’re still there, if you’re still waiting for him. 
You would wait for him for forever, but that’s just for you to know really.
Max opens the door again, just the barest amount. Just enough so his eyes, wide and disbelieving can lock onto yours. 
They’re so blue, you don’t know how you never noticed it before, so classically storybook blue that you’re really starting to wonder if this is all some kind of weird dream where you’re standing at his doorstep begging to be loved by him, like some kind of cheesy romcom star. Because after all, aren’t you just a girl standing in front of a guy?
“You’re in love with me.”
The words stretch the impossible distance between the two of you. Even when he’s halfway around the globe he’s never felt this far away.
And still, somehow, you feel too close to him. Like somehow all the other versions of you and him have been false proxies to what you’re reaching for right now. Like all of a sudden, somehow, he’s been molded into your every contour of your soul and you don’t want anything else
The door edges open a little wider.
“Are you asking me that or are you telling me?”
He’s stalling, you both know it. But, you can’t really bring yourself to do more than give him a fondly smile and roll your eyes at him. Because you know, if the roles were reversed, if he was the one throwing pebbles like some kind of suave Dutch romeo, demanding to know if you were in love with him, you would be doing the same thing.
“You and I both know how much you like being told what to do.” With a sigh Max opens the door to his apartment a little wider once more to let you in, “and yet, you’re still here telling me to open my door.”
You can’t really fault him for that one can you?
You make your way to the living room where you settle down on your spot on the couch while Max flits around the living room. Sassy is meowing at Max, desperate for a taste of the outside she only ever gets when the front door opens, and even though he knows she’s not going to make a run for it he still takes the time to half-heartedly shoo her away.
Max does this, dragging his feet, until both of the cats have curled up next to you on the couch and it is only then that he makes his way over to you. Coming to stand behind the armrest on his side of the couch, putting a little too much distance between the two of you for you to not feel spurned by him.
You can hear it in silence between you, you can feel it in the way your body seems to ache from having him in the ways you have him now and not in the ways you want to have him.
You’re not ready to have this conversation.
There’s a part of you that almost wants to say nevermind and forget that you even said anything in the first place. But deep down you know that the two of you have been putting on this elaborate dog and pony show for far too long. You’re only delaying the inevitable.
“So,” you say, nervously running your fingers over the fabric of the couch. “Is it true?”
You try to catch his eye as you say it, not only to try to make sure he doesn't chicken out but to see the reaction he gives. You want to see his soul and know that he means whatever he says.
But Max doges your gaze at every move in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy. And you’re not really sure what it means but you can feel the way the dynamic has shifted. All of a sudden the two of you are on shaky ground, not sure where you stand with each other. Even though two hours earlier you would have called him your best friend with your entire heart.
“Well?”
“Please,” he says your name, strained and with a weight to it that you don’t quite want to acknowledge, “don’t make me say it.”
You’re not above begging, you really aren’t, but something about the way he sounds makes you falter. Just a little.
“Max,” you say his name softly, “I think you and I both know what your answer is going to be.”
“Then why do you need to hear it so bad?” His words bite, tinged with an anger that you know he doesn't really mean. “So, I can say it back!” Your words match the sharpness in his and you can see how much they throw Max off kilter.
He blinks at you and then rocks on his feet, first a step forward and then a step back like he’s blown away by the force of what you said. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
You cross your arms and shrug your shoulders, “it was a personal issue.”
“You being in love with me kind of also involves me.” 
You really don’t want to admit that he’s right on with that one.
You huff and shrug your shoulders again, “well it goes both ways, why didn’t you say anything?”
“I asked first,” Max shoots back.
You groan at his response and launch yourself up towards Max in a play attempt to strangle him. “Argh, you’re so!” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you slump against him, head resting in the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, “God I hate you.”
Max laughs underneath you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “you evidently don’t.”
“You're so silly,” you sigh, tilting your head up to look at him. "You want to hear me say it so bad."
Your nose nearly brushes against his, he’s so close you think you could count every single one of his eyelashes if you tried.
Max makes a noise that’s somewhere between exasperated and surprised and you know that you’re toeing the line with your teasing
You always know when to give in when it comes to him.
“Okay, yes, I love you! I love you,” you say, “do you love me?”
“Yeah, I do,” Max says as he moves to cradles your jaw in his hands. “I love you.”
You grin, “good. Now kiss me please.”
And he does. He does and it feels like all the cliche things people say. It feels like coming home, it feels like fireworks are going off in the background, it feels like you were meant to be, that he was made for you just as much as you were made for him.
And you just know. You know that there can never be anyone else but him. That there was a version of you before Max and now there’s going to be a version of you that’s with Max, but there’s never going to be a you after Max.
“I love you.” Softer, quieter this time.
You don’t dare look him in the eye, instead choosing to press your cheek against his and stare out the window of his apartment. Your gaze settles somewhere in the distance as you try to memorize the feel of his body pressed up against yours.
You curl your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging absentmindedly as you say, “I’m glad that worked out, I didn’t even know you were home.”
He pulls away from you to fix you with a look that is so quintessentially Max, “you have my location on your phone, you’re always stalking me,” he says, punctuating his words with little jabs to your shoulder.
It’s true, and you honestly don’t know why you didn’t try to check his location in the first place, your logic getting lost somewhere in the panic of knowing that he loved you. 
“Mhmm.” You shrug noncommittally, trying very hard to ignore the rushing feeling of warmth in your chest that comes with the realization that Max was so ingrained in your life and you in his from the start. 
You try not to think about the fact your toothbrush sits next to his in his bathroom, about the fact that your hand automatically gravitates to his favorite spoon in your cutlery drawer, the one you can identify solely based on the weight of it in your hand. You try very hard to think about how you couldn’t separate the love from the friendship.
It was always gonna be you and Max. 
There’s a silence between you for a moment. You try to match your breath to his and let the sounds of outside filter through your ears. And for a moment you can hear how the rest of the world keeps turning, even when your world has stopped spinning on its axis.
“So, what now?” Max asks, turning his head to press kisses to your hairline, his hand squeezing your waist. You can feel his nose brush against your temple as he makes his way down, lips featherlight on your skin. The intimacy of it makes your blood sing with electricity. 
You pull “Mhmm, you could take me to bed?”
It’s half serious, half a joke. You’ve waited so long to have Max like this that now that you finally do you want him in all ways possible. But still, there’s some young and girlish part of you that wants it to be special.
Max pretends to think about it for a little bit and it’s so impossibly silly that you have to resist the urge to strangle him again for it, “it’s three in the afternoon, I think it’s a little early for sleep.”
“You know that’s not what I mean, stop being a smartass.”
Max smiles, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “Well,” he says, “how about I send you home so you can get all nice and pretty for me and then I’ll come pick you up and take you to a nice dinner, hmm?”
You flush, not just from the way he pours honey, slow and sweet, into your ear, but from the way it feels like this was always meant to be. Like you were always meant to have this, always meant to have him. 
“And then,” he says, dropping your hand to pull you in by your belt loops so your hips are press flush against his, “after dinner, that’s when I’ll take you to bed.”
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leclercstarrs · 2 days
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the interview.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!interviewer!reader.
warnings: none.
in which the internet notices a certain formula one driver in your instagram likes.
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yourusername 📍 new york city
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liked by zendaya, charles_leclerc, and 274,681 others
yourusername still in shock rn. nyc is beautiful and interviewing the cast of challengers was such a huge moment 🫶🏻 amazing cast and brilliant movie!
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zendaya you’re literally the sweetest 💗 thank you for the interview! such a fun time!
yourusername stop, i am such a fangirl.
user3 girl you always have so much chemistry with the celebrities you interview
user12 deadass 😭 she had both of those boys blushing and down badddd
user36 i NEED to see this movie rn
yourusername you do!! it’s wonderful
user63 any f1 fans here? did yall see charles in the likes?? 👀
user7 omg glad someone else noticed that! i wonder if she’s going to interview some drivers
user4 yesss, do they know each other?
user63 no i don’t think so, he doesn’t follow her, maybe he has a crush 😙😂
yourusername uploaded a story
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charles_leclerc miami, hopefully. 🙃
yourusername 📍 miami
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yourusername i’m out here in miami… 🌴
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user42 iconic caption, you’re iconic
liked by yourusername
charles_leclerc i was right, what’s my prize?
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user7 CHARLES?? WHAT? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
user63 huh??? oh my??
f1 excited for this week…😍👀
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user7 y/n l/n in her f1 era?? is she going to do the driver interviews for the miami gp?
user12 i hope so, she’s amazing
user92 miami?? charles in the likes?? charles is in miami?? the miami gp is coming up?? is this a hint y/n??
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yourusername
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yourusername loving miami and the atmosphere. the first round of interviews with the @.f1 drivers is out now, i hope you guys enjoy because i definitely did, such wonderful and inspiring people! see you guys tomorrow 👀🙏
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f1 thank you! you are incredible and we’re honoured to have you joining us this week!
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mclaren 🧡 thanks for interviewing us
user12 ferrari boys next?!
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maxverstappen1 ���️👍
lewishamilton it was nice to meet you! 😊
user54 gorgeous as always
lance_stroll ☺️ thank you for the wonderful interview
pierregasly alpine next?
yourusername of course 😗
charles_leclerc i’m ready for my interview y/n
yourusername only if you bring me some lec icecream ngl..
charles_leclerc deal. what flavour?
user7 I AM GOING INSANE WTH IS THIS!!
user63 get a room fr
joaofelix79 when are you going to interview me?!😯
yourusername omg i’d be honoured. name the time and place, i’ll be there 🏃🏼‍♀️⚽️
yourusername
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yourusername all of the formula one interviews are officially posted on my youtube channel! hope you all love them and got some new and fun information on your favourite drivers! xx 🏎️💋
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user12 the tension in the charles interview?? insanity
user82 she’s better than me i would’ve been folding and on my knees in seconds with the way charles was acting
charles_leclerc going to miss seeing you around, had fun talking with you
yourusername same here 💗
user7 y’all are fucking with me ik you’re going to film more interviews together…right?
user45 ASK HER OUT CHARLES
user9 petition for more interviews with y/n and charles
user12 signing rn!!
user30 SIGNED
f1 hopefully you’ll be working with us again in the future ☺️ thank you for everything!
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user19 HELLO?? PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS CHARLES
user12 OH MY 😨 Y/N & CHARLES??
charles_leclerc ofc, i had to see you again.
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername and 2,582,148 others
charles_leclerc first of many dates
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yourusername wow i guess my interviewing skills are 10/10, so good you had to ask me out
charles_leclerc 🙄🙄 i guess
user82 SUCH A CUTE COUPLE
user12 she’s stunning!
liked by charles_leclerc
user9 i knew he wanted her
oscarpiastri ❤️ cute
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yandere-daydreams · 7 hours
Text
Title: Puppy Love.
Pairing: Yandere!Yuuji x Reader x Yandere!Yuuta
Word Count: 2.6k.
TW: Hybrid AU, Puppy!Yuuta, Puppy!Yuuji, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Biting, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, and Obsessive Behavior.
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You heard Yuuji, first.
 He’d always been the louder of the pair, not that it was a very steep competition. You hadn’t had him for very long, but—well, it was less that he came out of his shell quickly and more that he’d never had a shell at all. It only taken a day or so for him to get used to the idea of living with you and Yuuta full-time, a week for him to start acting like he’d always been a part of your little family, and another month before he started pawing at your bedroom door at night and whining when you reminded him that you preferred to sleep alone (meaning: without multiple two-hundred pound hybrids draped across you). He was energetic, overly friendly, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to call him disobedient or difficult. You figured having a more, for lack of better phrasing, dog-like hybrid in the house would be good for Yuuta, bring out his more instinctive side. In reality, the added stress of an overly hyper roommate had only worked to make him just a little more anxious than he already was, but you still thought it was good for him. If nothing else, Yuuji gave Yuuta something to focus on that wasn’t you, and Yuuta could use more distractions.
But Yuuji, though—He was what you should’ve been focusing on, at the moment. Through the haze of exhaustion, you could hear the door creaking open, the muffled sound of padded feet on carpeting and the tiny, almost inaudible vocalizations Yuuji never seemed to realize anyone else could hear. Soon enough, you felt the foot of the mattress dip as he clambered onto your bed. Any other night, you would’ve forced yourself to sit up and tell him to leave, would’ve called on the dozens of books and hundreds of blogposts you’d read about hybrid obedience training and found the strength to ‘reinforce boundaries despite personal feelings’, but you were tired beyond the point of discipline, and Yuuji didn’t mean any harm. One night of letting him curl up next to you wouldn’t hurt, even if you did make a mental note to show Yuuta some extra affection in the morning – just to keep the scales balanced. For all their many differences, they were both prone to crying favoritism.
You never stirred, but you settled deeper into place, curling into yourself as Yuuji remained at your feet. You might’ve fallen asleep entirely, if Yuuji hadn’t spoken.
His voice was quiet, low, audibly trepidatious. It reminded you of Yuuta’s nervous, stuttering inclination, although not quite as unsteady. “Are you sure it’s alright to…?”
“I am.” You weren’t sure who you expected to answer, but the sound of Yuuta’s voice almost startled you awake. It was normal for Yuuji to bend the rules. Yuuta was supposed to know better. “She’s asleep, right? Just don’t wake her up.”
Yuuji didn’t respond, but you felt the sheets draped over your shift, a warm hand curl around your calf. For as little reassurance as Yuuta had provided, it seemed to be enough for Yuuji.
It was half curiosity and half fatigue that kept you quiet as Yuuji moved around you. Whatever they might’ve been up to, nothing could’ve seemed worse than having to wake up and sacrifice much-needed sleep for the sake of scolding your (usually angelic) pets. At worst, you’d wait until you could catch them in the act or, better yet, grit your teeth and bare it until they left. Anything not to have to deal with this for another eight hours.
You rolled onto your side, twisting your leg out of Yuuji’s hand and letting out a soft groan as you curled into yourself. It wasn’t a subtle position, let alone an inviting one, but Yuuji only whimpered, only edged closer to you. This time, when he touched you, it was to take up your shoulder – his hold gentle and breathing heavy as he nudged you onto your back. Whatever he was doing, he seemed determined to see it through. It might’ve been more admirable, if you hadn’t been so confused.
You felt your sheets pull away from you next, then another hand on your ankle, Yuuji’s rough claws pressing lightly into your skin as his loose grip flexed. You felt him draw your legs apart, and with the corner of your mouth already quirking downward, you started to open your eyes, to sit up and—
Suddenly, you felt something wet and warm press into your cunt, and you stopped moving entirely.
Whatever lingering exhaustion you might’ve felt was swiftly replaced with cold, pointed terror. This time, you forced yourself to hold still, it wasn’t out of confusion or curiosity, but an abrupt and paralyzing fear.
It wasn’t a feeling Yuuji seemed to share. His tongue was already moving across the length of your slit, his drool already soaking into the silk of your panties. He was making those noises, again; deep and throaty, closer to the sounds a prowling animal would make than anything remotely similar to human speech. Both of his hands found their way to your ass, claws biting into the plush flesh as he buried his face in your pussy. He was just as rough with his mouth – his pointed canines ghosting over the inside of your thighs and catching on the material of your panties, his broad togue laving over your covered entrance as if he could taste you through the fabric. It was only when he bowed his head, when the bridge of his flat nose ground against your clit that you started to wonder if he actually could, but forced yourself not to linger on the idea for very long. Thinking about what he was doing, assigning a motive to his actions – that would only make this worse. Thinking at all would only make this worse.
You bit down on the side of your tongue with as much force as you could afford to use, willing yourself to hold still, to not react – a wounded animal, playing dead as to not attract the attention of a predator. You felt Yuuji’s hands shift, calloused fingertips pressing into your thighs, then—
“Stop.”
Yuuta. Wonderful, miraculous, well-behaved Yuuta. You would’ve sighed, if you weren’t holding yourself so stiff. You could hear him moving closer, too – his footsteps feather-light compared to Yuuji’s. You braced yourself to break up a fight (there’d been a few when Yuuji first came home with you, when you first realized that Yuuta had never learned to share), but rather than barking, growling, any of the sounds that came with two animals trying to tear each other apart, there was only rustling fabric, another shift in gravity as Yuuta positioned himself by your side. “Y-you’re doing it wrong,” he stammered, and something deep inside of you seemed to curl up and die. “You have to take her clothes off first. Otherwise, she won’t feel anything.”
It was almost strange, hearing him take charge. In any other context, you might’ve been proud.
Yuuji whined, but obliged. His nails scraped against your hips as he balled his fist around the fabric and tore, making no effort to spare the delicate fabric. The remaining scraps were discarded with just as little care, and before you could fully wrap your mind around what was happening, he was back to lapping at your cunt. With the only barrier between you gone, it felt less like he was trying to eat you out and more like he was trying to eat you alive – his tongue too thick and too long, his hands too big and too prone to groping at whatever was underneath him, the boundless energy you were so used to finding either infinitely adorable or impossibly exasperating sudden not quite as harmless than you’d always considered it to be.
The next time he found your clit, you couldn’t stifle your reactions – little, half-choked whimpers and moans escaping despite your pursed lips. Your hips twitched, and for the first time, you felt Yuuji draw back willingly. He was such a sweet dog. Even with your eyes clenched shut, you could picture him tilting his head to the side, his ears flopping in the same direction and his big, dark eyes going full puppy-dog. Usually, you’d melt at the sight, give him whatever he was asking for and comfort him the best you could, but you didn’t have much comfort to spare, and Yuuta was already answering on your behalf.
“That means she likes it,” he explained, his voice a little quieter, a little more airy than it’d been before. “Keep going, she’ll make more.”
There was a short lapse, passed in silence. For a second, you let yourself believe he’d come to his senses, that he might stop, but it was only for a second. His response was enough to dash any remaining hope you might’ve had. “…will she get louder?”
“Mhm.” And then, with the slightest note of pride, “She does for me, at least.”
And just like that, Yuuji’s head dipped, his mouth latching onto your pussy with a renewed concentration. You willed yourself not to move, not to think, not to do anything that would mean having to open your eyes and acknowledge what was happening, but it was impossible not to feel the heat of his mouth against your cunt, not to let the sounds of saliva and arousal against tongues and skin seep into the back of your mind and tint the pleasure slowly starting to pool at the pit of your stomach with a vicious, sickeningly sweet, nectar-like quality. It wasn’t long before your own pitiful noises were just as difficult to suppress, before your hips were jutting upward involuntarily to meet Yuuji’s mouth, before you could feel a mix of drool and slick and every other ungodly thing pooling on your sheets beneath you. Yuuta shifted beside you, edging close enough for his thigh to press against your arm. “You’re—You’re making a mess, she’ll be mad if—”
His voice cut out abruptly, drowned out by a sudden, bubbling moan from Yuuji. Yuuta tried to catch his attention again to the same result until, finally, there was a low growl. Yuuji yelped has his face was shoved further into the space between your thighs – Yuuta pushing down on the back of his head, as little as you wanted to picture your sweet Yuuta doing something like that – but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his lapping only seemed to get faster, more reckless, more wild. You didn’t want to, no part of you wanted to cum because of your pet’s mouth, but you could feel the pressure mounting, the heat building, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his tongue as you reached your climax.
There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from crying out as you came, any hope you might’ve had of making it through this without letting either Yuuji or Yuuta know how much of it you’d been conscious for immediately abandoned. You tried to make good use of your adrenaline, to shove Yuuji away and run, but he’d always been strong, even for a hybrid, and he didn’t even have to pull away to pin your hips to the mattress and nurse you through your orgasm, his tongue now fucking into you unabashedly. He only stopped when the last of your aftershocks had died out, when it was all you could do to lie limp and mutter all the little ‘no’, ‘stop’, ‘please’s that you’d pictured yourself screaming only seconds ago. Even then, the separation wasn’t made by choice – no, it was Yuuta who finally, finally dragged him off of you. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you could see his fingers knotted in Yuuji’s untamable hair, his knuckles white and his grip steadfast. By the time he let go, Yuuji’s back was straight and he’d gone surprisingly quiet – his dark eyes glassy and fixed on yours. By the time you could force yourself to look to Yuuta, he wasn’t much better. He was focused on you, too, but he didn’t look quite as dazed, quite as mindless. His lips were parted, but his eyes were narrowed, and he was wearing the expression he’d worn when you first brought Yuuji home, all displaced resentment and palpable betrayal. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might’ve called it anger.
Yuuji broke the silence. He whined sharply, slumping forward and kneading down where his hands were still planted on your hips. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him to get down, to get out, but Yuuta cut in before you had the chance to spit anything out. “Turn her over. It’ll be easier if she’s on her stomach.”
Yuuji didn’t hesitate. You felt his hands on your midriff, and then, you were on your chest, Yuuji’s form hunched over you as he ground something stiff and hot and leaking against your ass. You tried to push yourself up, to get away, but you were barely able to get your knees underneath you before Yuuji’s arms were around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his pointed teeth bared against the side of your throat. He didn’t growl, didn’t bite, but you went still regardless. You didn’t think Yuuji would hurt you, but you never would've thought he would do this, either.
Whatever aggression he might’ve felt faded quickly – as soon as he started rutting against your ass. You could feel him panting against your throat, his breath humid and stifling, and his chest pressing into your back. He was too close. He was too much. When he spoke, it was almost deafening, even if you knew it couldn’t be much more than a mumble. “Hurts so bad,” he muttered, as his cock ground uselessly against your ass, your thighs. “Been hurtin’ so bad since you took me home. I was so happy when Yuuta told me you could help, and—and, that you wouldn’t mind, and—”
His voice cut out abruptly as the blunt head of his cock caught on your entrance and, with a cracked whine, thrust into you. There was no time to adjust, to block out – just a sudden heat inside of you and the immediate, overwhelming fullness of his cock battering the walls of your pussy. “Off,” you half cried, half screamed – your voice a jagged, shaking mess. “Get down, stop, get—”
But Yuuji wasn’t listening. His tongue lapped clumsily at your neck as he fucked into in slow, languid thrusts – his hips slamming into your ass with enough force to bruise. You went limp, sobbing openly into your sheets, but Yuuji was strong enough to hold you up on his own, to not have to care what state you were in underneath him. So caught up in your own misery, you didn’t notice Yuuta moving until he was in front of you, until his hand had worked its way underneath your chin and tilted your head back far enough for your tear-clouded gaze to find his. His expression was that same mix of resentment and pity and bitter, bitter anger. Still, when your eyes met his, the corner of his lips quirked up, some of the harsher lines around his eyes fading into nothing.
“I wouldn’t be this rough with you.” His tone was flat, softened. He ran his thumb over your cheek, leaning down just far enough for his lips to brush against the top of your head. “I would be a good mate. You don’t need anyone else.”
Again, he leaned in, slotting his lips against yours with a feather-light sort of gentleness. At the same time, you heard Yuuji moan, felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, and started to wish you couldn’t feel anything at all.
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cupidhoons · 3 days
Text
twitch streamer ⟡ lhs
syn gamer! bf heeseung hcs / thoughts!
wc 639 && trope est relationship fmr mlist
note 🗒️ ; starting off small to get my motivation back </3 for @lilacnini and the gc ofc 😇 enjoy reading!
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gamer bf! heeseung who stays up late at night to stream
gamer bf! heeseung who tries his best to not wake you up while he streams — he avoids screaming and yelling
gamer bf! heeseung who would end his stream and stop playing his games if you wanted his attention or if you needed anything from him
gamer bf! heeseung who leaves his stream on accidentally on day, and his viewers could hear you and him laughing in the other room together
gamer bf! heeseung who realizes that what he did, and laughs it off and tells you his idea of teasing his fans about your relationship with him
gamer bf! heeseung who soft launches your relationship which makes his fans go insane
gamer bf! heeseung who asks you if you wanted to go public before doing anything rash, and you say yes
gamer bf! heeseung who turns on his stream on a random day to do a random Q&A with you and his fans
"hi chat! I'm not going to be playing today, sorry. i am with my girlfriend though! say hi y/n!"
you enter in the frame with a bright smile. "hi! I'm heeseung's girlfriend! surprising that he even knows a girl, right?" You giggle softly and heeseung only chuckles
"yeah yeah whatever...lets start today's stream shall we?" he jokingly rolls his eyes at your joke.
You look at the live chat that was moving at a face pace — you could tell that his fans were very much excited in meeting you.
After the stream ended, you very much had a whole fanbase — and heeseung? well, he's just there. fans eventually found your instagram account (you didn't mind, of course) and immediately started thirsting over you — boy was heeseung having a field day after revealing you to his fans
gamer bf! heeseung who does more streams with you in the background talking to him or engaging with his fans
gamer bf! heeseung who listens to you very attentively when you start speaking — to which fans start joking around how "down bad" he is for you (they aren't wrong, he looks at you with pure adoration)
gamer bf! heeseung who gets jealous (jokingly) when his fans start asking you to be their girlfriend instead
gamer bf! heeseung who starts beefing with his own fans, telling them to back off his girl
"chat shut up, y/n is mine and mine only!!" he says with pure sass in his voice. he knows it's a joke, of course, but it doesn't hurt to play along right? after all, you are his gorgeous girlfriend and not anyone else's.
besides all the jokes and jealously, when he has the opportunity to talk about you — he will. trust me. he will always have something to say about you — how pretty you are, how you always have the best outfits, how much he loves you — there was no denying that he was in love.
gamer bf! heeseung who sometimes lets you play his games as you sit on his lap, teaching you how to play
gamer bf! heeseung who praises you for playing so well — even if you died 300 times beforehand
gamer bf! heeseung who posts you on all his social medias
gamer bf! heeseung who makes his whole instagram account look like a fanpage for you
gamer bf! heeseung who goes shopping for a pc with you when you said you wanted to start playing games with him even if you weren't the best at games
gamer bf! heeseung who makes a minecraft server for you and his friends to play on — making it a series
gamer bf! heeseung who proposes to you in minecraft and plans a whole minecraft wedding for the both of you
gamer bf! heeseung who you do eventually end up marrying and having a happy life with
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permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @kyoaeri @copyhanni @lilacnini
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imbored1201 · 12 hours
Note
Hi writer, may i request barca x teen reader, where reader is very bullied in school but does not tell anyone and the bullying results in her missing out school and classwork . The school contacts the Barcelona team and the team tries to find her. The reader finally tells the truth .Thanks
Dropping Out
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Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
You always hated school; practically everyone did. But probably the top reason for your hatred towards school was because you usually had to miss out on training over tests.
With the agreement Barcelona had made with your school, you entered after training, and during away games, you did most of your work online or your teacher sent you off with a bunch of packets.
If Alexia knew you were currently skipping them and eating ice cream at the place she always took you to, you would be grounded for life. You were certain the school wouldn’t call her; there was really no point to it.
In your mind, you still had your straight A’s, not actually aware that your grades had dropped, and now you were just a straight C student. You had a bunch of tests you needed to make up.
Well, a part of you knew about how much you dropped; you just chose to ignore it.
————
Alexia, on the other hand, was finally getting the peace she had been craving. She loved you, but you were a handful half the time. Especially when Olga wasn’t around, you quickly went from semi-behaved to terrible right when Olga was dropped off at the airport.
“Hello?” Alexia answered, “Yes, I’m her guardian." Mapi frowned, trying to get closer to Alexia to hear. The school never called; they had no reason to. You were a straight-A student who always kept up with all the work given.
“What do you mean she hasn't gone all week? I drop her off every day." Mapi grabbed Alexia’s phone, putting it on speaker.
“Ms. Putellas. We should make a meeting regarding Y/N; her teachers have been reporting that she’s been off; has there been anything going on at home?” Alexia looked around, where all the other girls were now crowding around her.
“No, she’s been acting the same." “Let’s just have that meeting and discuss it with her. Y/N is an amazing student; this isn’t like her at all.”
Alexia sighed. “Of course, I’m available any time.” She hung up quickly, making her way to her car and calling you.
"Ale,” Mapi called out for her, "what, Mapi? I need to go find her.” She was frustrated, not at you but at herself. She sighed when the call went straight to voicemail, only making her more nervous.
“Que paso con bebita?” “I don’t know, Mapi, there’s something wrong.” She looked at your little friend group, who were in the corner, looking worried.
“Ninas, do you have any idea where she’s at?” Salma shrugged, nudging Cata. “She said that she was craving ice cream last night,” which helped a lot. Alexia rushed to her car, knowing you were probably at the ice cream place you both loved.
She was always taken there when she was a little kid after a game, and now she makes sure to continue the tradition with you.
————
She sighed when she parked and saw you sitting on the curb, eating your ice cream. She quickly sent a text to the team, telling them she had found you.
She didn’t know whether to be strict or soft with you, considering she knew you wouldn’t just ignore school all of a sudden. But she also knew you were a teenager, and teenagers randomly love to rebel.
"Shit,” you cursed as you watched Alexia walk up to you. As much as you wanted to make a run for it, you knew you would be in deeper shit for that, but Alexia’s glare was enough to make you freeze.
“Ale, I’m sor-“ You were thrown off guard when she pulled you into a tight hug.
“Don’t ever disappear like that. At least tell Salma where you're going to be,” you muttered a sorry, sinking into the hug.
“Your school called me today; why haven’t you been going?” You looked down, not wanting to see Alexia's soft look that always got information out of you. “Ale, can’t I just drop out? I don’t need school.” You were close to tears, wanting to tell Alexia the truth but also scared.
“You do need school. Cariño, whats really going on?” You looked back at the ground, pushing away Alexia’s hands.
“They're very mean,” you sniffled, rubbing your eyes. Alexia quickly pulled you into a hug. “Who bebita?” “The kids always make fun of me, and the teachers never believe me when I try telling them about it.”
“Oh bebe,” she cursed herself for not noticing how sad you were, hated the teachers for ignoring you, and hated those kids for doing this to you. You could do no wrong in her eyes. Yes, you were a little asshole at times, but she still loved you.
“We’re going to figure this out. I’m going to get those kids expelled, and we’ll figure out a different situation for you." She wanted to kill those kids, but she knew she had to handle this in a mature way.
————
You told Alexia everything in the car. When it started, the names of the staff you tried telling about the kids bullying. Even the fact that one of your teachers would just listen to their insults and say nothing about it.
You were confused when she pulled up to Mapi and Ingrid’s place, and you were even more confused when you saw Mapi waiting outside. You pouted at her when you saw Claudia, Salma, and Patri. “You cannot leave me with them." "Yes, I can; behave; I’ll be back soon.” Before you could protest more, Mapi opened the door.
“Come on, bebe, I want to see you beat these rookies in FIFA,” Mapi grinned, pulling you out of the car. You looked confused, seeing some other familiar faces still in their car. Alexia, along with Irene, Marta, and Sandra, were going to march into your school and demand stuff be done against everyone who had hurt you.
Fridolina and Ingrid went to get you your favorite food and desserts to cheer you up while you and Salma kicked Patri’s and Pina’s asses in FIFA.
You were very happy when they returned, hoarding all the snacks and refusing to let anyone expect Frido and Ingrid to get any.
As you watched Pina and Patri argue over teams, your eyes drifted to the door when you heard a knock. You watched as Mapi opened it and your favorite person stepped in, “Ale!” You smiled widely, about to jump up and jump on her; it quickly turned into a frown when you noticed the angry expression on her face. You looked at Salma, who also looked a bit scared.
"Ale, I’m really sorry I skipped school.” Her eyes softened when she looked at you. “Don’t apologize, bebita; I’m sorry. I should have noticed what was going on; those assholes don’t want to do anything about those dumb kids. You’re no longer going to that school.”
“Can I drop out?” Alexia scowled. “No, we’re figuring out a different situation.” Salma smirked. Usually she was the one that helped you with your homework, but instead of trying to teach you things, she just commanded you around to do her favors while she did your work.
“Just please find something that won’t come in between my training." Alexia smiled at you, a proud look on her face now. “I know, bebe, I hated that you had to miss out on practice too. I’ll see what I can do.”
————
The different situation was switching to fully online, which you liked better. Now you were finishing your work before training, which gave you all day to just relax and hang out with the team.
The downside was the fact that Alexia knew you had more time, so she made you train more; she called it bonding, but sometimes you wished you still went to school in person to get away from it. Especially during the extra-running days.
And now you were a target of pranks, before you weren’t allowed to be pranked since you used the “I have too much work to be getting involved with your shenanigans excuse.”
They didn’t even buy the ‘I’ll tell Alexia and Irene’ threats that you always shouted.
Even then, you were happy to just be free.
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ellecdc · 2 days
Note
Hiii :) I saw your requests tips and saw that you didn't write for dub/non con and I don't know if this count as one so just feel free to not respond!
So reader is in a relationship with the Marauders and is starting to randomly think about a past SA and realise this was SA only now bc her brain has been blocking the memory and information. She tells the boys (and maybe Barty idk) about it after sometime of overthinking it and self blaming so it's just like super fluff at the end <3
(it's my personal experience but if you don't feel comfortable writing about it just feel free to ignore it :). Sorry for the bad orthograph english isn't my first language 🫶🏻)
first of all - your English is fucking fantastic (and you know more words than I do - I had to look up what an orthograph was) secondly, I turned this into more of a conversation between reader and her ship. and for plot purposes this became poly!wolfstar - hope that's okay!
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who opens up about past SA
CW: discusses themes of sexual consent, inebriation, and SA. Describes past SA and abusive relationships. Describes drunkeness, alcohol, and drinking. viewer discretion is advised.
You could tell it was taking Sirius a lot of effort to appear to be too fussed over Lily, James, and Regulus at the end of the party, but he pretended to gag every time anything even remotely romantic or sexual was brought up about his brother.
“What do you think happens when they go home, Pads?” Remus muttered quietly, causing Sirius to slap his hands against his ears.
“Would you shut up, Moons? I am not interested in hearing about my brother’s sexual habits, thank you.”
Unfortunately for Sirius, Lily didn’t get the memo. 
“Are we le-leaving!?” She shrieked through a hiccup as James held most of her weight up against his side and Regulus gathered her purse and shoes she’d since lost.
“Yes sweets; we’re gonna get you to bed.” James said quietly.
A salacious smirk took over Lily’s face as she tried (and failed) to grab James by the chin. “To bed, hm?”
Regulus snorted, though no one missed the blush that dusted his cheeks. “To sleep, Lils.”
Lily groaned dramatically and seemed to go ‘no bones’ in James' grip as he grunted and tried to keep her from hitting the ground. “Why not.”
“Because you smell like you bathed in a bottle of schnapps, sweetheart.” James placated.
“So?” Lily grumbled though acquiesced to helping James keep her up right. “We can even do that thing you like.” She tried to sing sensually, but her efforts were in vain as every other word came out slurred. 
Sirius grumbled causing James to blush. 
“Not tonight, angel. We’ll cuddle, okay?”
Lily scoffed and turned her sights onto Regulus. “You agree with me, right? Right Reggie? You agree- you agree with me?”
“Almost always.” Regulus agreed quickly, offering Lily his arm as to share her weight with James. “Just not tonight, my love.”
“You guys are no fun.” Lily whined as she allowed her two boyfriends to usher her out of Remus and Sirius’ shared flat.
Unfortunately for Sirius, no one missed Regulus leaning into Lily’s hair and promising that “they’d have lots of fun tomorrow to make up for it.”
“I hate them all.” Sirius grumbled with no real malice as he stood and made his way over to you before offering you both of his hands. “What do you say, dollface? Ready for bed too?”
Remus answered ‘yes’ as you accepted Sirius’ help up which sparked a debate between the two of them whether or not Remus could be considered ‘dollface’ to which you secretly agreed that yes he could but ultimately refused to participate in such nonsense.
You got ready for bed in a haze as you replayed Regulus, James, and Lily’s conversation in your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you were so stuck on, but something about the exchange caused something deep within your gut to churn unpleasantly. 
“You feeling alright, dovey?” Remus asked gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you reentered their bedroom after washing your face, carrying your toiletries with you so as not to hog the bathroom.
Sirius (and Remus) had been begging you to spend your nights here with them nearly since the very beginning of your relationship, but you argued that you did not want to pay rent for a flat you never saw. 
He then started nagging you to give up the lease on your flat and just “sodding move in with them already”, but it still felt a little too fresh for that.
So, you spent most nights (but not all) at their flat; living out of duffle bags and toiletry bags.
You hummed in confirmation to Remus’ question, moving towards the mirror above Sirius’ dresser to finish your skincare routine as Remus took his turn with the washroom.
“You sure, sweetness? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight; did you have fun?” Sirius continued as he went digging through what you knew to be Remus’ drawers searching for Sirius’ favourite shirt which was really Remus’ shirt but no one bothered to argue with the black-haired boy…anymore.
“I had fun.” You agreed, massaging product into your face.
“Uh huh.” Sirius commented, not sounding at all convinced as he came up behind you and hooked his chin over your shoulder; watching as you completed your nightly routine through the mirror. “You had so much fun and that’s why you look like Moony when he can’t figure out one of those crosswords in the Daily Prophet?”
You chuckled softly, but something in your lack of enthusiasm (or your lack of disdain) for his joke seemed to tip him off. 
“What’s going on in here, hm?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to your temple. 
“I just…” You started, sighing as you made yourself busy by tidying up your belongings and refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’ve just been thinking about Reg, James, and Lily’s conversation.”
That caused a dramatic groan to rip through Sirius’ chest as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder.
“What now?” Remus asked jokingly as he returned from the washroom. 
“She’s thinking about Regulus, James, and Lily in bed.” Sirius accused; voice muffled in the fabric of your sleepwear. 
You scoffed defensively, claiming you were “absolutely not” at the same time Remus commented “aren’t we all” which started a very loud bickering match between your two boyfriends. 
The arguing only ceased when Remus “swore on his mother’s life” that Sirius was “by far the superior Black brother.” 
Placated, Sirius turned his sights back to you as you sat on the edge of the bed. “So, what were you really thinking about their conversation?”
Remus, having walked in with only enough time to rile Sirius up, popped his head up at that. “Everything alright, dove?”
You sighed as you turned to face them. “I was just confused, I guess.” You admitted. “I think…Lily was hoping to have sex tonight?”
Sirius groaned again which earned him a swat from Remus who seemed to pick up on some of the tension radiating through your body.
“Yes…I’d agree.” Remus responded carefully.
“And Reg and James said no?”
Sirius’ head tilted at that as he considered you with furrowed brows. “Well, of course, doll. She was drunk.” He said simply, as if that explained it all. 
“So…they wouldn’t have sex with her because she was drunk?” You clarified.
The boys shared a glance with one another before they each took a seat on the bed, prompting you to turn your body so you were all facing each other.
“So, all parties have to be able to consent, right?” Remus started. 
You nodded quickly at that. 
“But when one party is inebriated or under the influence, they can’t consent.” Sirius continued.
You felt your eyebrows twitch as you looked down at the pattern on your bed spread. “Even though she was asking?”
“She wasn’t in her right mind, dove.” Remus explained gently; eyes full of compassion and, perhaps, some sadness. “She may have woken up tomorrow and not remembered anything, or perhaps worse, regretted something. It’s Regulus and James’ jobs to keep her safe, just like I’m sure she keeps them safe when the roles are reversed.”
And now you could understand why their conversation seemed to catch you so off guard. 
“You’re so pretty like this; drunk and all mine.”
“Have a few more; we always have more fun when you let loose.”
“But…I’m really tired.” “All you’ve got to do is lay there - I’ll do all the work.”
“You don’t remember last night? That’s too bad; I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”
“You’re such a good little whore for me when you’ve had a few too many.” 
You hadn’t realised you had zoned out of the conversation until Sirius was leaning into your field of vision. “You okay, sweets?”
“Yeah.” You said breathlessly before clearing your throat. “No, sorry. I’m fine.”
“Why were you asking?” Remus queried; tone hardening slightly, alerting you to the fact that he smelled trouble. 
“I was just wondering.” You fibbed.
“You know we would do the same, right?” Sirius asked earnestly. “That we have done the same for you.”
“You have?”
“Yes, my love.” Remus whispered. “Always.”
You nodded and looked back down at the bedspread. “Okay.”
“Y/N.” Sirius called with a certain level of severity; though you detected no anger or frustration in his tone. “Why were you asking?” He repeated Remus’ earlier question after your gaze met his imploring silver eyes. 
You quickly looked down at your hands as you began picking at the hangnails around your fingers. “I was just confused; that has not always been my experience.” You admitted quietly; shame coursing through your body as you digested this new information.
The room was quiet for a moment as Remus shuffled scrupulously closer to you. “No?” He whispered; voice intoned with a level of gentleness you weren’t accustomed to hearing. 
You began to feel all sorts of discomfort at the heavy attention being focused on you in the room. “It was usually quite the opposite.” You joked; voice rising to a higher octave in an attempt to make light of the situation as you pulled back the covers and made to retreat to the relative safety of the boys’ bed. 
“Whoa, whoa. What does that mean?” Sirius implored, earning him a gentle warning “Pads” from Remus.
“I’m sorry.” You placated, still uncomfortable with this heavy atmosphere you seem to have blanketed over what had been a really nice evening. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, I-” Sirius began, cutting himself off and taking a breath you could tell was an attempt to calm himself down. He shuffled closer to you and wrapped his hand around one of your ankles through the blanket as he rubbed soothing circles against it. “You can always talk about anything with us; it’s important that we talk about these things, yeah?”
“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Remus mollified. “But I do agree with Sirius; if you’re comfortable, I think it’s good for us to talk about these things.” 
“It was just my last relationship.” You admitted finally. “He didn’t…agree - with the consent thing, that is.”
Remus’ lips pursed as Sirius’ jaw tightened. 
“He’d sleep with you when you were drunk?” Remus asked cautiously. 
“Yeah.” You agreed half-heartedly, picking at your nail beds. “Or encourage me to drink more so…”
Remus let out a sigh and you could tell Sirius was fighting back the urge to grumble. 
“I’m sorry,” You offered again. “I really didn’t mean to bring all this up, I just-”
“I really, really don’t want you to apologise anymore.” Sirius nearly begged. 
“I don’t understand how someone could do that.” Remus mused aloud. “To anyone; and someone they claimed to love?”
You mistook Remus’ rhetorical question for an actual need for clarification. “He said I was more fun; that I’d try things I wouldn’t normally.”
Sirius did finally let out an angry huff and his fingers stilled on your ankle. “Who?”
“You don’t know him.” You countered quickly, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as you rested your chin on your knees. 
“Lucky him.” Sirius muttered darkly as Remus shifted closer to you. 
“I’m sorry dove.” He offered quietly; holding out his hand to you in a silent invitation. You accepted it, and as you gave him your hand, he gently encouraged you over to him until you were cradled in his arms.
“I didn’t tell you to be sorry.” You murmured quietly as Remus began pressing kisses to the raw and reddened skin around your fingers you hadn’t realised you had nearly shredded in your tension. 
“I know you didn’t.” He whispered. “I’m still sorry, anyhow.”
“I think it’s nice… that the boys were looking after Lily.”
Remus hummed in agreement though he still looked particularly disturbed.  
“That’s their job.” Sirius supplied, causing you and Remus to turn your heads towards your boyfriend whose eyes were red and shining with unshed tears.
“Sirius.” You murmured miserably.
“Just like it’s our job to look after you.” He continued as if you hadn’t said anything at all.
“And you do.” You agreed.
Sirius huffed and wiped at his face. “I hate to think of you being hurt or…or taken advantage of when I wasn’t there to help you.”
Remus made a pitiful sound at that. 
“You didn’t even know me then, Siri.” You offered, half teasing and half placating. 
“She’s alright, Sirius.” Remus comforted. “She’s got us. You’ll be okay now, yeah?”
And you thought of your boys now; you thought of Sirius near tears thinking of someone taking advantage of you during a time you hadn’t even known him, you thought of Remus currently cradling you like you were a precious thing he feared losing if he didn’t hold you with the utmost care, and you thought of their friends - the kind of people who they surrounded themselves with and had the same morals as they did.
Yeah…you think you might just be okay now.
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yappersblog · 3 days
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no one knows — paige bueckers [blurb]
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synopsis. paige and you aren’t together, but you’re definitely something.
trigger warnings. nothing, except maybe non-exclusive relationship (?) and little tiny bit of possessiveness.
author’s note. second time posting on tumblr 😋😋😋 and it’s kinda lame & not proof read so sorry people 🙏🏽 my requests are open sooo don’t be shy and request!
more fics. my emily engstler one. go take a look 💋
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everyone knows—your teammates know, your friends definitely know, your families know, your coach knows—hell, even your rival teams know too.
everybody knows that something is going on between you and paige, something that gets bigger and bigger everyday and that you should stop ignoring if you don’t want things to go wrong.
but, being your stubborn and dumb selves, the two of you don’t take your relatives’ advices seriously—apparently finding comfort in denial and in your instable relationship.
you’re not taken, but everyone in the university knows better than ask you on a date; all of them knowing perfectly well that paige might become their worst nightmare if they do.
same for paige—even if people didn’t really know how to approach her before, due to her being her intimidating self. they retract themselves even more now that you’re always attached to her hip, and the basketball player doesn’t help them either: the girl immediately playing with her chain—where your initials are written in gold—when someone starts to flirt with her, waiting for the stranger to understand that whatever they’re trying to do is pointless.
but despite all of this possessiveness, care and love that you feel for each other, none of you tried to make this a real relationship—one whose exclusive, and not only to the people but to you two.
the both of you are in love; it’s literally written on your foreheads and necklaces.
however, neither of you are brave enough to man-up and confess your feelings. so, for now, the two of you are stuck in this situation-ship, with unspoken feelings.
“yoooo! what up?” kk loudly screams while entering your dorm room, the rest of the team trailing behind her.
nika, aliyaah and inês make their way to you—the three of them hugging you—while the rest of the group goes to your fitted kitchen to put their snacks down.
“girl boo, don’t tell me you’ve been rotting on this couch since this morning…” kk literally exposes you, making ice chuckles and azzi slaps the back of her neck.
“kk, i know something else whose been rotting for more than a morning…” you say, munching on a cheeto that’s coming from aliyaah’s bag. “your braids!” the whole group bursts with laughter, kk side-eyeing you before laughing it off—taking a seat next to you.
that’s when paige finally decides to make an appearance, her arms free of bags full of snacks. laying against the softness of your couch, you don’t even hide yourself and check out the girl in front of you—your eyes moving from her grey nike tracksuit and her fitted shirt that shows off her biceps, to the glasses on the bridge of her nose and her slick back ponytail.
God, she’s so fine, you think to yourself—paige watching you intently with that smirk that makes you want to give her everything. she knows what’s going through your mind and you don’t even mind this fact.
“yo, get out of my seat kk” the blonde says, her hands deep in her tracksuit’s pockets.
“your seat? girl boo, since when?” kk says back, the sassy little girl coming out of her. you can’t help but chuckle, making paige’s blue eyes look in your direction.
“since forever, move!” trying to stand her ground, kk stays five more minutes next to you until paige decides to take matter into her own hands and pushes the girl on the floor carpet. “how you doing, ma?” the blonde’s arm makes its way around your shoulders, while it’s owner looks at you dead in your eyes and takes place on your right.
“doing good, you?” she doesn’t even respond, only nodding her head and licking her lips the next second—her blue pupils already trailing on her lips. you roll your eyes, popping a cheeto into her mid-opened mouth.
paige laughs, her arm tightening around your shoulders, and munches on the chip.
she smells clean, like a mix between fresh shower and sweet cologne. your favorite scent. actually, everything about her happens to be your favorite thing.
she looks like she’s about to say something, but kk—who has taken place on the floor carpet since she lost her spot on the couch—screaming to her phone screen, with ice on her right and aubrey on her left, stops her.
“oh god, always on live bro” the blonde mutters, glaring at the camera and detaching herself from you—making you frown.
popping another chip in your mouth, you side-eye her, not really understanding what her problem is.
oh so that’s how it is? okay.
your heart stings, but when invasive thoughts are starting to take hold of your mind—you feel a head on your chest and big ass biceps around your waist. your eyes look down, and you can’t help but grin when you see paige comfortably laying on your body—her right cheek pressed up against your breast.
immediately, your hand is playing with her blonde locks—all your attention focused on the girl in front of you and not on the recording live of kk.
“what’s up with y’all gay asses? come say hi to the people!” you hear the light-skinned player says, her head turned in your direction.
“hi people!” you don’t have any other choice but to greet the fans when the screen is being shoved in your face.
comments are flooding, and you try to read some of them, even if you already know that practically all of them are about paige.
“say hi!” paige groans against you, hiding her face even more into the crook of your neck. “okay, grumpy ass” kk laughs and takes back her phone. “what’s up with you?” you whisper-ask her once you’re ‘alone’.
“nothing” she grumbles and you know that whatever-it-is: it’s not nothing. you two keep up the eye contact for a few minutes, before she finally gives in and mutters against your collarbone: “i just don’t feel like sharing you right now, even though i don’t have the choice”
your brain doesn’t know to function for like two minutes before it works again and tells your blood to rush to your cheeks.
paige smirks a little, mushing even more herself into you, then presses a sneaky kiss on your neck.
she loudly hums against your skin, her nose sniffing it—snatching a frown and a giggle out of you.
“the fuck are you doing?” you laugh and she can’t help but laugh too—in love with your big ass smile.
“smellin’ you” the blonde does it again, but way more exaggerated than the first time, tickling you on purpose. “you smell good baby” she stops her little game once she feels you pinching her hip.
you thank her by smooching her cheek, feeling one of her dimples on your lips.
she retakes her place on your body, humming loudly. her arms tighten around you, and it feels like she’s trying to sneak herself into your body because she snuggles her face even more into your collarbone.
but you don’t mind, so that’s okay.
“their guns’ hot pink, that’s for sure” kk tells the live, fake side-eyeing the both of you while the rest of team cackle loudly—each of them knowing perfectly that they are hot pink as hell.
the two of you just exposed yourselves in front of an unknown number of fans, and none of you care—even though your faces might be trending on twitter tomorrow, people asking what kind of relationship you two are sharing.
and the most funny, is that even if you want to: neither you or paige can answer that question—and you don’t really care actually, the both of you just happy to be snuggled up together on this old couch, labelled or not.
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written by © yappersblog, i do not accept plagiarism—this is my work and only mine.
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