#like you did to me? do you let him see you with your hair down? do you comb your hair in front of him? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kjdkive · 2 days

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a nice surprise - l.jn

warnings: smut, nasty, fluffy, will make you feel single even if you're not, grammar mistakes

a's/n: thinking of making a part two cause this type of jeno is making me feel crazzy. also, part two?

you shouldn't be really doing this, grabbing the key of his apartment jeno told you the location of in case of an emergency, but this is a real emergency and he isn't answering your texts, neither caring about the fact that you're ovulating and going crazy just at the thought of his touch. well, it's not like you have never been to his place alone, you've been here more times than you'd like to admit. but right now, you needed him like you needed oxygen. you don't think he will be angry, or will he? no, i mean, how could he say no to a horny-you in the middle of his living room?

"i guess i'll make myself comfortable." you layed on the couch and turned on the tv, played a random movie but you couldn't pay attention, you were just only thinking of jeno.

40 minutes have passed and there's still not any signs of him, not even a reply to your text you sent him three hours ago. all of a sudden, you hear the locks of the door make sounds and you prepare yourself for maybe the best, maybe the worst. who knows?

you watch the man you've been waiting for almost an hour now not notice you, he seemed stressed... maybe that's why he was not replying and just needed to be alone... did you fuck up? he dropped his backpack to the floor and took off his shoes and shirt, leaving himself with just the gray sweatpants he was wearing. three words: holy jesus fuck.

"jesus." he said, getting shocked from the fact he hadn't see you there. "what are you doing here?"

"hi, sorry, i grabbed the secret key you told me about and let myself in. i don't know, you weren't replying to my texts and i wanted to see you."

"you wanted to see me..." he asks smiling as he sits down beside you "or to fuck me?" he grabs you by the waist and sits you down on his lap.

"mmm, what is the correct answer to that right now?" you caress his hair and smile at him too. "is everything okay? i know letting myself in was weird but when you got here i noticed something was off."

"aw, you worry about me, maybe you will get some."

"oh my god, are my tactics working?" you ask, laughing.

he kisses you as he grabs your face to have the control on the kiss. it's soft and not too short.

"nothing to worry about, baby." he moves you again so both of your legs are on his sides. "i'm struggling to understand a class and i'm not having enough time to study because of my job, so yeah, it's just the normal stress of everyday."

you give him a peck on the lips and cup his face with both of your hands and you just give him a soft look, you truly did not want him to stress out, he's the smartest, hard-working boy you know out there, he deserves a 100% scholarship and everything paid, not this.

"you're really smart, though. like you make me feel really dumb sometimes when you start speaking engineer nerd lingo, it's also really hot." he giggles and you scratch his hair softly while still looking at him, you just feel his hand caress your lower back and sometimes your legs. "besides, hard work pays off and you know that. your job will let you grow on your career and well, we all need a major. just know that this stress will not last forever." you give him a kiss again and another one on his nose.

"wow, you really will say all that to get some dick." he tells you and you smack his bare chest.

"fuck you."

"yeah, you're really trying." he laughs and stops to stare at his hands touching your legs, then your butt and at the end your waist. you get startled when he pushes you towards him lightly. and he kisses you, fervently, the way you've been wanting to get kissed all day. the "problem" right now is that he has never kissed you this passionately. the way his lips move against yours is making you feel something you've never felt before, not with him nor any men you've ever been with.

"thank you, princess." he tells you. "you know i'm just joking, i do really appreciate your words and support." his eyes were shining as he looked at you. "and honestly, you being here was a nice surprise."

"it was?" you ask him as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you grab his hand. he just kept staring at you, making it seem like he was admiring every single detail of your face.

"mhm." and you just stayed there, looking at each other. you were still holding his left hand that was placed on your face and gave it a little kiss. as he sees you doing that, he doesn't let go of your hand and just softly gets your hand to his mouth for him to kiss it. "kiss me, y/n."

and you do what he tells you to. you kiss him with the same passion he had just kissed you with a few seconds ago. he introduces his tongue into your mouth, playing with yours. it's getting more desperate second after second, his hands that were placed on your waist were now going down to your butt to grab it and force you to grind on him, feeling him very close as you were wearing a dress so he had easy access. one of your hands stayed on his shoulder and your other hand slowly traced a line down his abs so you can grab the hem of his sweatpants.

he kept guiding your hips with his hands and stopped kissing your mouth to move to your neck, giving wet and sloppy kisses on it as he grabbed your hair and tugged it down to give himself more space to kiss, suck and lick.

"come on, baby, keep grinding on me." jeno whispers on your ear. "you're making me feel so good, princess. look so beautiful, so pretty."

his praise was just the little help you needed to moan loudly on his ear and

"that's it, baby, do you feel me? do you feel my hard cock?"

"yes, jeno, i feel it." you moan.

"just for you, princess, only for you, always for you."

you tug jeno's hair as you moan on his ear, making him understand you had just came with the way your legs were shaking. you think you're in for a long ride tonight.

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sixosix · 3 days

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m m m m maybe blanket plus yuuta plus hurt/comfort maybe. maybe 🤞

in which rika likes you because yuuta definitely, definitely does.

warnings wc 800, mention of injuries and descriptions of blood !! careful when u read <3 also i took hurt comfort literally BWHAHSAH hope i did your expectations justice nyx ily

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

“Yuuta. Yuuuuta.”

Rika’s voice echoed in the quiet hall. Yuuta winced, wishing Rika would keep it down; it was 2 AM, and no one would appreciate being woken up around this hour. But he knew that if he said so, Rika would be sad, and he didn’t want to hurt Rika and cause a worse scene.

“I’m fine, Rika-chan, really,” Yuuta murmured.

Rika growled unhappily. Yuuta, too, knew that he was lying. Although his wounds weren't life-threatening, he still needed to get them treated before they got infected. But Yuuta had just come back to this room—he was so, so tired. Sleeping in wouldn’t hurt anyone but him, right?

“Yuuta!” Rika snapped. It reverberated and shook the walls.

“Shh, Rika-chan,” Yuuta whispered hastily. “Please, our friends are sleeping.”

“Yuuta?”

Both Yuuta and Rika fell silent, alarmed. That voice certainly wasn’t Rika’s, and it most definitely came from the door.

“Yuuta?” you asked again, followed by a knock. “Are you okay in there?”

“I—I’m—I’m fine!” Yuuta yelped.

“Didn’t you just come back from a mission? Why are you here instead at Ieiri-sensei’s?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier that separated you both, but it was still enough of your voice to have Yuuta’s ears reddening.

“I was! I’m resting now!” Yuuta lied straight through his teeth, embarrassed beyond belief. In truth, he didn’t want to disturb her.

“Yuuta’s a liar!” Rika chose not to stay silent at the worst time. “Liar!”

The door swung open. Yuuta didn’t have enough time to hide a steadily growing red shirt or his pretty much the same face. The air thickened as you drew closer, and Yuuta struggled to tell if it was because of Rika or his reaction to you.

“Okkotsu Yuuta,” you said, deceptively calm. Yuuta felt the hair on the back of his arms rise in alarm. “Yuuta, don’t tell me that the stain on your shirt isn’t from ketchup.”

It was his blood, so Yuuta obediently stayed silent.

You sighed and spun around to leave the room. Yuuta’s chest ached as he watched you leave. His lip trembled, and he looked over to Rika, who seemed to be giving him that same stare of disappointment.

Yuuta shrunk in on himself. “I think I made Y/N mad…”

“Stupid Yuuta,” Rika trilled. “Yuuta is an idiot!”

“I know, I know,” Yuuta cried. “I get it now.”

As he was preparing to wallow, Footsteps emerged once again. You burst into the room with a first aid kit and a stern glare that made the protests die on Yuuta’s tongue. Strangely, Rika was silent.

“Let me see,” you demanded.

Yuuta’s face flamed with embarrassment, but he obliged and tugged on his shirt. Most of the injuries were cuts on his torso that would surely hurt once he showered, but again, it wasn’t anything worth all of this. He braced himself for the stinging pain once the cotton grazed his open wound, but instead, he found himself too flustered by your proximity to even notice you were already working on his wounds.

The room was dead silent, save for Yuuta’s labored breathing. Rika had disappeared; Yuuta chalked it up to him not being in danger anymore.

“Yuuta, if this happens again, come to my room, okay?” you said softly.

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. I’m asking you to.”

Yuuta deflated. “I can’t just disturb you.”

“I want you to disturb me.”

What a dangerous thing to say. Yuuta’s gaze went sharper. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” Your touch was too gentle. You faced Yuuta’s gaze head-on, fearless. “And you would do the same for me. Aren’t you the one being unfair?”

Yuuta sighed. He could never win when it came to you, anyway.

“Thought so,” you mused, carefully pulling his shirt down again. “You should learn how to ask, Yuuta.”

“I’m trying,” he muttered.

You tugged on the blanket folded neatly by his side and draped it over his shoulders. The heat of your touch remained in the blanket's warmth. When you stepped back to grin proudly at your work on a flustered and helplessly endeared Yuuta, you then frowned.

“Hey, where’d Rika go? I thought she wanted to share the blanket.”

“I think she wanted you to share it with me,” Yuuta said before he could think about it.

“Oh.” You blinked. “Is that so? Well, I guess that’s not a bad idea.”

Liar, he could hear Rika’s voice. Well, he never denied it.

Yuuta laid down carefully and lifted an arm from under the blanket. You crawled inside and settled beside him, launching into a ramble about how you were worried sick when Yuuta didn’t return early. He still struggled to ask for what he wanted, so he would settle for this.

#606: 5K EVENT #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jjk imagines #yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x you #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta okkotsu x reader

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shotmrmiller · 2 days

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damn ok but before uf!konigs big arse makes an appearance, i need reader to get spicy. it's out of the norm, you're usually pretty collected and tend to only snap your teeth at johnny because he's a fucking creep simon, don't leave me here alone with him

but now everyone's feeling your wrath, even john who you never snarl at because you know your place in the food chain so late one night, simon comes out of the shower, drying his hair only to spot you pacing in the kitchen, mumbling to yourself and he thinks that's quite enough.

whatever the fuck that is ends now.

he corners you, literally, and cages you in with his arms on either side of you.

what the fuck is your problem? (simon, while a killer, knows so much better than to say what other idiots would.)

you avert your eyes, looking over his shoulder, flicking your gaze up to the ceiling, your feet-- anywhere that isn't him because his sunken eyes are gonna slice through whatever lie you're about to spin up.

look at me.

he grabs you by the cheeks hard enough that your lips puckering slightly.

talk.

how are you to tell him you're sexually pent up! you forgot to pack your toy when moving out and now you're stuck with just your fingers and it isn't doing the job--

that it?

oh, man. you said that out loud. you're so out of sorts you can't tell when you're thinking and when you're talking. and what the hell does he mean that it?

he tells you that the both of you are fixing that up today, to take of your bottoms or he'll tear them off you himself and to sit on the bloody couch.

legs open. wider. what're you blushin' about? you're mine anyway. is it johnny? he's stayin' out f'the nigh', go' some business with price. hands on your pretty cunt. go on. do it or i will.

good. touch your-- why are ya wincin'? is it dry? here, gimme ya hand.

simon's saliva has been pooling in his mouth since he saw your naked sex.

try it now. good? good. now let me see how you touch yaself.

*wheeze*

simon being a pal and not pointing out how you obeyed him without question because if you don't know that you like to be ordered about, he ain't telling ya.

oh my god the walk of shame to prices office the next day once simon wrings out all of your ire with his fingers. the stare he gives you when you mumble out an apology. the once over he gives you before shifting his gaze over to simon, who's throwing down with kyle in the ring.

right. not an issue, love. next time you're tha' irritable, you can come to me.

simon didn't hear that but laswell did, and she pulls you to the side telling to not, under any circumstance, tell simon what john just said to you.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

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ventique18 · 22 hours

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~ Thoughtless ~

Somehow you feel it. Maybe you're just letting things get to your head, but maybe. Just maybe.

Malleus is in love with you.

How can you not think that, when he comes by to see you almost everyday, or when he sometimes finds himself thoughtlessly tucking a stray hair away from your face. When his hands would naturally find their way to rest on your hip while you're busy baking something, and he would curiously watch from behind?

So when he carelessly lays his head on your lap one lazy afternoon, you find yourself blurting out "I think I'm in love with you." Just as naturally as is his intimacy is towards you.

He doesn't speak. Doesn't even laugh. He just thoughtlessly pulls you down and, clumsy and mismatched as they are, lets your lips wordlessly do the talking.

You're over the moon. How could you not be, when a person you thought was beyond your reach is hopelessly in love with you just as you are with him? You'll be spending your time as a couple from now on. Going on romantic dates together, greeting each other first thing in the morning, getting to know each other in a much, much more familiar depth. Maybe even considering... marriage.

There's an infinite things that you want to do with him. So many things that make you happy. You're happy.

... Until...

"I wonder what bouquet my betrothed prefers for our coming wedding?"

You overhear him as he strolls with Lilia.

Betrothed? As in, someone you promised to marry? He did say wedding.

What the hell.

He's already engaged to someone? And he still kissed you so passionately like that? All along, he was already meant to marry somebody else while he's fooling around touching you here and there, kissing you and pecking you and hugging you and... Is that why he didn't say he loved you when you confessed? He's just leading you on because he's bored?

That son of a--

Tears. Ugly tears. You scream furiously and cry miserably as you strangle and punt and wrangle your poor pillow at Ramshackle. Your best friends watch silently while they try to coax you with your favorite food and your favorite zero-substance comedy film. It works. Your mood lightens.

Until they go home, and he barges into your home with grin you wanted to sucker-punch off his ugly, cheating, demonic, monstrosity of a lying face.

"Why are you here?" You spit out.

His thick, slimy skin couldn't taste the venom in your words.

"Good evening," he giddily greets as he walks over to you-- almost prancing for god's sake, "I was wondering. What type of flowers do you like?"

"The hell are you on about? You think you can keep stringing me around? I'll fuck you up."

"Careful. I am exercising a deep self-restraint out of respect for you. But if you keep playing with me like this, telling jokes about 'fucking me'-- as people say nowadays-- I might truly end up debauching the sanctity of marriage."

You leer at him. What the hell is he yapping about?

"Fuck?"

He sits on the sofa beside you; as graceful as he always seems to be. No, actually. He sits as ugly as a bridge troll. "I see you are impatient. Truth be told, I am too. But we best wait until after graduation, at least. So before then, I would like to ask: what flowers would you prefer for our wedding? I rather wish to grow them myself."

"Our wed--"

And it clicks in your head.

'My betrothed.'

'What flowers would you like?'

'Our wedding.'

It's you. The betrothed is you.

You almost laugh out loud. Out of the silliness of it all, out of embarrassment perhaps, even out of relief. This guy. God, this guy. What a careless, thoughtless, whimsical, nonsensical, brainless guy. But somehow,

"I like wisteria."

It's just, so naturally, him.

"The flowers in full bloom when we first met."

#wrote a one shot short shot while on break #twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

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sturnslcver · 2 days

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enemy! chris where he absolutely breaks down reader to where she has no motivation to do anything anymore and he notices n begins to feel bad

ੈ✩‧₊˚ expiated favours ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

— chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— warnings, fluff, blurb, crying

you shot chris a fond smile, proud of the meal you’d just prepared for him. you gently set it on the edge of his desk. he didn’t bother looking away from the screen occupying him as you cracked open a can of pepsi. “here” you muttered quietly, scooting it toward him. you lingered beside him for a split second hoping he might acknowledge or thank you. he didn’t. you gently shut the door on your way out to the living room.

almost immediately after you’d plopped down on the couch, chris had emerged from his room. “you didn’t put enough ice” he grumbled. “sorry” you shrugged. he slammed his glass against the counter. “so are you gonna get the ice?” you glanced at him and exhaled a long breath before lifting yourself back to your feet to fulfill his request. he took a long sip, smacking his lips together. “better” he replied, heading back towards his room. he paused before continuing. “oh, start my clothes in the washer too. i forgot.” you scooped up the laundry basket and followed behind him to his room, dragging all the clothes from the floor and tossing them up into the basket.

your feet shuffled across the hallway back to the laundry closet. you were separating the color’s and whites when nick surfaced from his room. you delicately grasped his arm, gazing up at him. “can you finish this for me? i need to lay down.” nick obliged, of course seeing the black circles under your eye. you clawed at your hair, eager to finally get into some comfy clothes and hopefully get some sleep.

you were settled on your side, in bed facing the wall. just as you were nodding off, your door loudly unlatched. “did you finish my clothes?” you didn’t retort, your back still facing him. “you used a different detergent this time. i don’t like it.” he held up his shirt, inhaling the latest scent. “are you even listening?” he questioned. you reached for the nearest pillow, placing it directly onto your head. “i asked nick to finish the load.” he squinted his eyes as if it might help the noise coming from the pillow sound any less muffled.

you shot up and turned to face chris. “you know i don’t have to do these things for you. i just do it because i want too. i like doing things for you and you don’t show any appreciation or gratitude towards anything i do for you.” you voice gradually softened as you felt a lump forming in your throat. you hid your face in your hands and began to weep. “i’m tired, chris. i’m trying my best and it’s never enough.” you felt the bed sink in a little, peeking through your fingers. chris had his knee eased into the edge of the bed right beside you. he brought his hands up, drawing yours away from your face. he placed his hands lightly against your cheeks and used his thumbs to gingerly rub away your tears. he surveyed your glassy eyes for a moment, placing one of his hands on the back of your head and pulling you against his chest faintly. he clutched you into a warm embrace.

hesitating momentarily, you brought your arms around his back, rubbing up and down repeatedly, reciprocating his affection. your fingers trickled along chris’ spine. his chin lazed on top of your head. “don’t cry. i’m sorry. i do appreciate you and everything you do for me and it’s my fault for not making it more known to you.”he placed both of his hands to the side of your head and planted a soft kiss to your forehead. “how about you let me finally appreciate you, hm? ” “how?” you chuckled eagerly.

chris raised your legs back onto the bed and signaled you to rest your back up against the headboard. he climbed up onto the bed and slid toward the bottom, placing your feet in his lap. he reverently placed a warm kiss to your ankle and began to massage your foot. “feels nice” you beam up at him. he hummed contently. the both of you exchanged a playful glance and laughed. “just tell me when to stop” chris cooed.

— a/n: i wasn’t sure how to go about the whole enemy thing because i couldn’t come up with a creative enemy backstory or a decent reason as to why they would be “enemies” also this is pretty short but i hope u still enjoy!! pls keep submitting things guys :)

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dandylovesturtles · 2 days

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Hello, I'm back again with another fic. This one is set right after the Hidden City episodes.

I got inspired by this pic of Leo, because I thought it was funny that they included the little hairs sticking out even while he's in the jail cell:

-----

Splinter's light is on. Which is odd, because he's certain he didn't leave it that way.

He'd fallen asleep in front of the big projector, and woke up to the sound of his sons playing one of those racing games they love. He'd told them not to stay up too late (something he was sure would be ignored) and then made his way back to the atrium to fall asleep in his room in front of his tube TV.

But light spilling out from under the door. When he gets closer, he can hear the sound of someone rummaging around inside.

Immediately, the worst case scenarios flood his head. One of their enemies has found them and is just inside, plotting some kind of attack against his life, or the lives of his children. They are just feet away, their shouts echoing down the corridor and into the atrium. Should he run and warn them? Or should he fight off the intruder?

In the end, he decides to go forward rather than back, creeping closer to the door. Silently he slides it open, just enough that he can look inside.

And there... is Blue, rummaging with intent through his nightstand drawer.

(Now that he thinks about it, there had been only three turtles in the TV room when he left. He'd just assumed Blue was in the bathroom, or getting a snack.)

He opens the door the rest of the way with much more sound, causing his son to jump a solid two feet in the air. "Blue! What are you doing?"

"GAH!" Blue whirls around, his hand held tight against his chest. "Holy crap, Dad! You gave me a heart attack!"

"Ninja should be more aware of their surroundings! Were you even watching the door?"

"I didn't think I would have to in my own house!"

"Well, let that be a lesson to you." Splinter folds his arms. "What are you looking for?"

Blue lowers his hands and shuffles back a step, grinning. "Looking for something? Whaaat makes you think I was looking for something?"

Splinter looks at the drawer Blue had been digging in when he arrived, its contents a mess. Blue glances at it as well, then back at Splinter.

"It was like that when I got here."

Splinter is not impressed. "Mm-hm."

"Heh, well... okay, I was looking for something, but I don't see it so I guess you don't have it." Blue eyes the atrium beyond Splinter, clearly trying to figure out how to slip past him. "Sooo I'll just be going now, haha!"

He tries to make his escape, but Splinter is quicker - he leaps up in the air, suspending himself in the doorframe, so that he is eye level with Blue just as he approaches.

"Blue. Tell me what you were looking for."

"Nothing important, seriously-"

"Leonardo-"

"A razor," he says quickly. "I was looking for a razor."

That... was not an answer he would have expected. Splinter can't keep the bafflement off his face. "A razor?"

"To shave with," Leo elaborates.

Splinter can't help but laugh at that, squinting at his son's smooth and hairless face. "Don't you feel like that is some wishful thinking, Blue?"

"Ugh!" Blue scowls at that, folding his arms. "I'm serious! Here, look at my head."

He bends his neck, and Splinter now sees what he's talking about: blonde hairs, scraggly and uneven, that dot his sons scalp in no discernable pattern. Splinter hadn't noticed it earlier, but his eyesight isn't what it used to be.

"What- where did those come from!?"

Blue straightens his head back up, looking both irritated and embarrassed. He doesn't seem eager to answer, but now that Splinter is thinking about it, this feels familiar...

Right! Yesterday, in the Hidden City! He'd gone to find Blue to borrow his odachi, and when he'd gotten there, Blue had a full head of blonde hair...

Ah.

Splinter lets himself drop to the ground. "Your hair yesterday... it was not a wig?"

Blue chews his lip for a moment before finally admitting, "It was some kind of... living hair yokai."

"Oh no... you let one of those on your head!? They are very dangerous! They sap your energy for themselves and take control of your sleeping body!"

"Yeah, that would have been great information to have a day ago." Blue rubs the top of his head self-consciously, then scowls. "Some of the hair stuck around, and... It just looks stupid, and it's kinda itchy, so..."

"Ah. Well, if I remember correctly, it will fall out on its own in a few days."

"Oh." Blue hesitates, then starts out the door again. "Okay. Well, uh... I'll get out of your hair, then."

He grins awkwardly as he slides past, and Splinter realizes just in time that he has not handled this correctly.

"Blue, wait," he says, and his son freezes just outside, glancing back over his shoulder. Splinter leaves him standing there, and goes to his dresser, pulling a thin black box out of one of the top drawers. There's an old shaving kit inside, complete with a razor that is still sharp. Splinter's not sure why he's kept it around, since he doesn't shave since becoming a rat (unless he's sick with the Rat Flu, of course, but for that he uses the electric trimmer), but he supposes it will come in handy tonight.

He walks back to Blue, holding the razor above his head. "Aha! Here we go."

"Oh! Thanks, daddio," Blue says with a grin, reaching out to take it - but Splinter does not hand it to him.

"Absolutely not. If you try to shave your own head you'll just carve yourself like a turkey." He lowers the razor and steps past Blue, into the atrium. "Grab a stool and meet me in the bathroom. I'll do it for you."

He doesn't hear Blue's footsteps moving. "Seriously? Come on, I can do it myself."

"No complaints!" He beckons Blue on with his tail. "Come on! I know exactly what I'm doing!"

"...Ough boy," Blue mutters, but he moves to do as Splinter's told him, and that's enough.

-----

They reconvene in the bathroom, as he instructed. He has Leo sit on the stool in front of the sink - it just works out that he can lean his neck against the basin, while Splinter perches in the sink itself for a good view.

"Now, I think we might have... Aha, here we go!"

He pulls shaving cream out of the medicine cabinet; again, he's not sure why they have this, since none of them shave, but he wouldn't be surprised if the boys use it to pull pranks on each other. Besides, it just feels like a normal thing to have in a home full of men, even if they don't strictly need it.

He squirts some into his hand, then layers it across Blue's scalp. Blue giggles like he's ticklish, and Splinter shooshes him, even though he can't keep a little grin off his face at that.

Then he carefully starts to shave across Blue's scalp, starting in the middle and working his way out. The hairs are pretty sparse, but some of them are too fine for him to see, so it's better to just do the whole scalp and be sure to catch them all.

"Why is it that you let the yokai on your head in the first place?" he asks a few strokes in. He's curious about it, after all.

"I didn't let it," Leo argues. "I got tricked. The guy who gave it to me told me it was just a potion to grow hair."

"Aaaah... And it was a scam. I'm guessing that's how you came to be in jail when we got there?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's alright." Splinter pats his shoulder. "Live and learn!"

Though, that didn't answer the question Splinter had actually been getting at. Blue says nothing else, so he tries again.

"But... why did you want to grow hair?" When Blue doesn't answer right away, he adds, "Do you wish you had hair?"

"No," says Blue. "...Yes. ...Maybe?"

Splinter has to bite back a chuckle. "I see."

Blue sighs, wringing his hands in his lap. "I mean, I guess I never really thought about it too much? It's fun to wear wigs sometimes, but I never really cared about being bald, before..."

He trails off. "Before?" Splinter prompts.

Blue is chewing on his lip again. "Have you ever heard of Hirsute? The fancy beach club?"

"Oh, of course!" Splinter grins at the recognizable name. Now that he remembers, wasn't that where he'd found Blue? "They have veeery strict requirements for membership, but of course I was always allowed in because Lou Jitsu had such perfect-"

He cuts himself off, looking down at Blue, the peeks of his bald scalp through the shaving cream. Finally, he has all the pieces.

"...They wouldn't let you in, would they?" he asks, hands stilling in their task.

Blue chuckles dryly. "Even better. I got in but they threw me out."

"...Hmph." Splinter gives his foot a stomp against the porcelain. "Well, who needs their resort, anyway? Honestly, their drinks were overpriced and their steaks were always too dry."

"I already saw how nice it was, Dad, but thanks for trying to help."

"Mm, well, we will find an even nicer one! One that does not discriminate."

"Yeah, sure," says Blue, but he sounds downcast. And really, Splinter doesn't know what to tell him. He doesn't know how they would find this mythical tolerant beach club.

"You've... always told us to be careful, with humans," says Blue after a few moments of silence. His eyes are locked on the ceiling, hands still held tight in his lap. "About not letting them see us, and all that."

"...Yes," says Splinter sadly. He wishes it wasn't so, but it was for their safety. "I was worried... about how they would treat you boys."

"I know," says Blue. "And I get it. I know not everyone is April."

"Unfortunately not," Splinter agrees.

"But even most of the humans who've actually met us... They were cool with it, or at least, if they hate us, it's for non-turtle reasons. So it was like, I knew that there were humans who would be scared, or who might even try to hurt us, but they were always... You know." Blue waves his hand in the air. "Like... a concept, or whatever."

"Hmmm... Abstract?" Splinter suggests, and Blue snaps his fingers.

"Yeah! Abstract. I didn't have a face or a voice, just a vague idea that someone could be a jerk to me. And..." He lowers his hand and rubs it up and down his arm. "I thought since I knew that, I wouldn't be surprised when it finally happened? But... then an actual person was looking at me, a real person, and telling me that I wasn't good enough. Telling me that I wasn't allowed in just because of something I can't even help, just... the way my head is, and... and I don't know. It was just way worse than I thought it was going to be."

Splinter's hands still again, his heart clenching in his chest. Oh, his son. His sweet Baby Blue...

"And," Blue continues quickly, "I know it's dumb, it's just a snooty beach club, and it's just hair, and I just need to get over it-"

"Blue," Splinter cuts him off urgently. He nudges his shoulders, trying to get the boy to sit up. "Leo. Please look at me."

Blue sits up, slowly turning on the stool to face the sink. His eyes are suspiciously red-rimmed, and Splinter feels a rush of emotions so strong they nearly sweep him off his feet. Hurt, for his son who was made to feel bad over something so trivial, and fury, for the people who caused the injury.

He reaches out and cups his son's face, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his cheeks. His sons are more muscular than other children their age, but Blue still has baby fat on his cheeks. Splinter resists the urge to squish them.

"I wish they could all see what I see," he says softly. "A young man who is so handsome, strong, and clever."

Blue's lip trembles slightly. "But they won't."

"Some will," he promises. "Not everyone is April... but she is not the only one, either."

"Just wish I knew who was an April and who wasn't," Blue says. "Before I get kicked out on my butt."

"Mm. It is hard. Some people make it obvious, and so many more do not." Splinter sighs. "When I came to America, I was already a celebrity. And still, there were many who did not accept me, or who did not think they needed to listen to me, or who were cruel. And it was the same, when I was taken to the Hidden City."

Blue gives him a sad, crooked smile. "You felt like an outsider, too, huh?"

"Very much, yes. Human and yokai... there are prejudices everywhere."

"So how do you deal with it?"

"Mm... there is no easy answer." Splinter guides Blue to turn around and lean against the sink again, before rest of the shaving cream drips. "I wish I could tell you that this is the worst you will ever face, but I can't promise you that. But I do not wish for you boys to hide from the world forever, either. Even if it is only among the yokai... I want what all parents want for their children."

"For them to have grandchildren?" Blue asks.

"Yes!" Splinter chuckles. "Cute babies to play with and then give back." He finishes shaving the last of Blue's head, then grabs a wash cloth to wipe him clean. "But no. I meant that, for all the people who may be cruel to you... I want there to be many more who are kind. And who love you as I do."

Blue's voice is soft as he mutters, "Oh."

"And I also want you to remember," Splinter leans forward, and kisses Blue on his forehead "that you are accepted here no matter what." He snorts. "Even if you want to make that hairstyle permanent."

"Oh, come on!" Blue huffs and gets up from the stool, his deeper green blush visible even though he is trying to look annoyed. "It wasn't that bad!"

"I'm just saying, I think you can do better!"

"What do you know, old man?" Blue scowls, but it's playful.

"Old man!? Hmph, the disrespect..." He folds his arms, then nods at the door. "We're done, so I'm going to bed. Your brothers are having some kind of go-karting tournament in the TV room."

"Oh shoot, I'm missing it!" Blue turns to run out, then skids to a stop and spins on his heel, running back and scooping Splinter out of the sink and into a hug.

"Thanks, Dad," he says, and Splinter can't help but chuckle, giving his shell a pat.

"Of course, Blue."

Blue sets him down, then turns and runs off again. Splinter can hear him yell, "Dibs on next race!" from down the corridor.

Splinter rinses the razor clean, then puts it back in his box. He considers taking it back to his room, but in the end he changes his mind, slotting it into the medicine cabinet.

Who knows? Maybe someone will need it again, one day.

#rottmnt #rise leo #rise splinter #dandy fanfiction #I feel like you can feel the moment when I lost my mojo haha #OH WELL #I hope I conveyed what I was getting at well enough #this has minimal proofreading I'm sorry #hope you enjoyed!

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c00kieguy · 2 days

Text

Thigh Pillow

relationships: Dr. Ratio x GN!Reader summary: You read the title, you saw the header, we both know where this is going cw: just fluff and humor a/n: wrote this after that one Ratio thigh jiggle post, very rushed wc: ~700 masterlist

"I have a headache."

Ratio peeks at you from behind his stone tablet, a pair of red eyes stare back at your own, his face filled with worry. You weren't usually one to blatantly say such things, so when the scholar sees you here staring at him instead of getting up to do something about the headache yourself, he assumes it must mean you're in a lot of pain.

"Do you want me to brew you some tea?" He offers. Lowering his book he scans your face for any other signs of discomfort. If it was a fever he'd have to start dealing with it immediately lest it develop into something much worse later on. Your behavior was certainly unusual however, despite supposedly being in pain you're just there, staring at him expectantly, as if you wanted a treat...

"No, that's fine, I could use a nap though." Ratio starts to suspect this might be one of your pranks. It certainly had to be, from the way you never took your eyes off of him to the uneasy tapping of your feet, you were definitely hiding something. Either way he didn't feel like entertaining you so he goes back to his book, thinking you'd head back to your own room to slumber. But when you don't take your eyes off of him even then he gives you a questioning look.

"Oh, here?" Assuming you plan to sleep on the couch he prepares to get up. "I'll leave you to it then."

"No wait!" You frantically reach out to him as he gets up. "You can stay."

"There'll certainly be more room on this couch without me." He huffs out. Ratio was starting to get annoyed now. He hated the way you keep trying to imply something but never actually tell him directly. Would it kill you to be more upfront with your words? It's not like he could read your mind.

"But then I'll miss you." You give him a fake pout. The man lets out an exasperated sigh and plops back down on the cushion, making sure to stick as close to the arm rest as possible so you have more room to sleep. If you wanted to sleep in the comfort of his presence all you had to do was ask. He's just glad he managed to figure you out quickly.

"Go ahead, I'll wake you up in a few hours." He absentmindedly says while opening his stone tablet again. Finally, some peace and quiet.

"I could use a pillow." He slams it shut. You were really starting to test his patience.

"Here." He grumbles as he pulls out the pillow from his back and tosses it to you. "Would that be all?"

"I want a blue pillow..." Now he's just lost, why did it matter to you what color the pillow was? Why blue in particular? Was it some sort of superstition you believed in? Did it-

He notices the way your eyes trail down his body. Following your line of sight his eyes land on his legs, or perhaps his thighs-

Oh, thighs, the same ones covered in blue fabric, his pants. Of course. What other reason would you have to go through such lengths? His expression softens a little at the realization you just wanted to lay on his lap.

"You..." He grumbles as he massages his temple. To think the whole fiasco was just for this? Unbelievable. Letting out his nth sigh of the day he regains his composure and pats his thigh. "Come on, lie down then." He finds it amusing how your eyes immediately light up. Shuffling over you drop your head on his lap, the softness of it instantly improving your mood. You truly loved this feeling, there was no better place you could think of to doze off at.

"Next time, don't bother beating around the bush. Use your words properly. Understood?" You hum in response. There really was something magical about him since you found your eyelids feeling heavy already. Ratio gently brushes aside a few strands of hair to get a better look at your blissful face, he had to admit he liked this side of you. Although he didn't appreciate it too much being left in the dark and guessing, seeing you in this state, so fully open and vulnerable with him, made it all a little more worth it.

"Rest well."

masterlist

#honkai star rail #hsr dr ratio #ratio x reader #ratio x you #ratio x y/n #hsr x reader #x reader #reader insert #hsr ratio #hsr veritas #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gn reader #honkai ratio #hsr fluff #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #c00kie.writes

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blarshwritezz · 2 days

Note

Heyaaa

Could i request yandere step brother that has been waiting for him and readers parents to go on their honeymoon and if possible could it be nsfw.

Could i be anon-🦅

Welcome, 🦅 anon!

Yandere Stepbrother x reader

M yan x gn reader

TW - NSFW, stepcest, somnophilia, general yandere behavior

Yan!Stepbro has loved you for years now. He had the future all planned out. The two of you were supposed to have an extremely romantic story ending in the two of you getting married and never ever even bothering to look at other people.

But of course, your mother and his father just had to have an affair together, get married, and ruin it all! How was he supposed to be with you now that you were step siblings?!

As years went by, he realized he didn't really care. He wanted you and he would have you! The only issue was the idea of being caught by your guys' parents. Much as he wanted to be with you, he didn't exactly want to be kicked out or something.

So he had to wait for so agonizingly long for your parents to finally go on their honeymoon. Part of him was deeply annoyed that it took so long, but the other part glad because now both you and him were more mature. He could show you his love in much better ways.

So one hot night, while you lay sleeping, he snuck into your room. It was like you wanted him too! The way you slept with no blankets in just your underwear...as if you too had dreamed of this night!

He was gentle, oh so gentle with you. Running his hands over your skin, grazing every last inch of you. His lips fluttered down your body leaving gentle yet needy kisses. All until he finally reached his destination.

He slid his hands into your underwear, slowly pulling then down and eventually tossing them away. You wouldn't be needing those. He moaned taking in a deep whiff of you. You smelled so good...he couldn't help but lick you up.

The little whines you made in your sleep were just too cute. He couldn't stop pleasing you with his mouth now! Not when you were clearly so aroused.

But he must have gotten too excited. "Step bro...what are you doing...?" You tiredly moaned, opening your eyes to see him practically devouring your crotch.

It was so wrong...and maybe you were just tired, but you couldn't deny how good it felt.

He had you climaxing for him pretty quick, and he happily lapped up all of your cum.

"So delicious...I love you so much. We're so much more than just step siblings." With those sweet words he rubbed some of your remaining cum against his cock before penetrating you, moaning as he was finally wrapped in your warmth.

He didn't waste much time in thrusting into you, slowly becoming rougher and rougher. He couldn't help it. You made him crazy, you know. Absolutely crazy for you.

The feeling of being inside you was even better than he dreamed. If he had it his way, he'd be stuffing you full of his cock 24 hours a day.

"Fuck, you feel so good...yes, squeeze around me tighter. Just like that."

Your hands intertwined with his, you holding on much tighter in an attempt to keep yourself steady as he pounded into you.

With one last groan, burying himself deep inside you, he filled you up with his cum. The warm feeling spread throughout your core, making you cum again as well.

"You look absolutely divine like this..." He brushed a strand of hair away from your flushed, sweaty face, admiring you.

You were all his now. He would never let you go.

Yes I absolutely DID have to add the "stepbro what are you doing"

#blarsh writes #yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #male yandere #male x reader #anon ask #yandere x you #yandere x darling #male yandere x you #male yandere x male reader #male yandere x reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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pre11yyy · 2 days

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Thinking about best!friend!Haechan who had enough from ur teasing, u wanna test his limits? Ohhh u r not ready for what's about to happen

Best!friend!Haechan who tries his best to not run to ur house and fuck u senseless after sending him again a nude waiting for him to see it first before u delete it and only wasting a "sorry not for u" when it was clearly for him, cause who tf does the same mistake every day?

Best!friend!Haechan who suddenly grabbed u by the hair and forced u on yr knees after u so accidentally rubbed ur feet on his crotch, his other hand gripping ur jaw making u look at him before he spits on ur face making u gasp from shock and that only earning u a chuckle from him "what? U r surprised? Isn't that how u want to be treated?" He mocks his hand letting go of ur jaw,.resting comfortably next to him

Best!friend!Heachan who hold ur head and stuffed his cock deep down ur throat, making u choke, ignoring ur hands that r tapping his thighs eagerly when u felt short of breath, waiting until a few seconds passed by to free ur throat giving u no time to catch ur breath before burrying his cock on ur throat again.

Best!friend!Haechan who smirked down at u after seeing how messed up ur make up has become, ur face glistening with a mix of his precum and saliva, mascara smeared down on ur cheeks, god he loves that so much, it's better than any of his imaginations, he watched as ur eyes rolled back holding for dear life on his shoulders as u ride his thigh, squirming around when he held u down even after ur orgasm, so sensitive but that's what u deserve for what u did. Best friend Heachan who bend u on the same table u were just having a diner at, pressing ur face on the cold surface, his cock stretching u out so deliciously "u've been playing all- fuck sort of games god to have this dick" he paused groaning at how ur walls sucked him in tightly "fuckk, now take it" he started picking up his pace, pounding u so hard that u saw stars, ur mouth mumbling incoherent words, whimpering, moaning, not sure what to do with urself as he kept hitting ur g spot.

Best!friend!Haechan who puts ur hands behind ur back and let go of ur hips using ur arms as he thrust so deep into u, making u moan so loudly that u couldn't believe it was coming out of u, feeling his dick hit that spot every time he pushed back inside of u, tears streaming down on yr face when he whispered in yr ears "you love being a slut for me don't you?"

Best!friend!Haechan who didn't stop even after cumming twice, not even when ur voice was gone from moaning too loud, he fucked u like his life depended on it, his hand moving from ur hips to ur throat, wrapping it around ur neck as he pulled you back on his lap, the position making it possible for him to fuck u even deeper, his lips kissing the side of ur neck as he fucked into you.

Best!friend!Haechan who finally let ur wrists go only for him to wrap both of his hands around ur throat as u came again, clenching around his cock and that was it, he filled u up, his cum overflowing ur insides and spilling out of u, your mind was so hazy and unfocused, u could barely register him asking if u could feel him.

Best!friend!Haechan who put ur clothes back on, cleaning his cum off of ur thighs and carrying you back home, he didn't leave after making sure u were okay, he stayed and watched a movie with u and when he was leaving, he kissed u softly and promised to come back again, that was the night that made u realize you have fallen for him.

#kpop #kpop smut #nct #haechan #haechan x reader #haechan smut #haechan scenarios #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #nct haechan #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #haechan imagines

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pickingupmymercedes · 2 days

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Thank you, for everything (it takes a village) - Lewis Hamilton ft. Ayrton Senna

Little something for the 30th Anniversary of Senna's legacy

pairing: Senna! Reader X Lewis Hamilton

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, 30th anniversary of Senna's legacy

wordcount: +4k

song: In your arms - Birdy

a/n: People in Brasil don't say is the anniversary of his death but rather of his legacy, and it's such a beautiful way to see it. I hope Ayrton knows, wherever he is, how loved he still is.

a/n.2: Ayrton was known as Beco/Becão by his family and friends

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi! (Also, my written portuguese is a bit rusty, so if there's anything weird, please let me know)

______________________________________________________________

When hope went away I still held on, to the love that you gave, it’s all I’ve got of you now. I will never know you, don’t get to understand, no answers to questions. It’s too late for that. But I was in your arms, once

A pre-dawn Miami humidity clung to y/n like a second skin, even inside the automatically cooled hotel room. The city slept, but the salty air carried a raw energy that mirrored the turmoil brewing within her. Today, the 1st of May, was a day she always needed to face alone.

She laid there, staring at the ceiling, the weight growing with each passing moment. Today, the air itself seemed thick with an unspoken grief, a shared memory of loss that resonated across the globe. 30 years. Three decades since the world had watched in horror as lives changed forever, hers included.

The sheets felt too restrictive, the silence too loud. Pulling them back, she tiptoed past the rumpled form of Lewis, still fast asleep. He'd offered to come with her, to run by the beach together, but she needed this. Needed the solitude, the rhythmic pounding of her feet against the pavement to chase away the ghosts of a past she barely remembered.

Miami slept, bathed in the faint glow of pre-dawn light, but Y/N felt wide awake, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. Stepping out onto the balcony, the salty air stung her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she gazed out at the vast expanse of the ocean, the darkness slowly giving way to a canvas of vibrant oranges and pinks.

A single tear traced a path down her cheek, a silent tribute to a love stolen too soon. Every year on this day, it was as if the world held its breath, waiting for her grief to surface. This anniversary wasn't a celebration; it was a stark reminder of the void that had forever shaped her life.

The need to move, to outrun the memories that threatened to consume her, became an insistent ache. With each step, a memory flickered to life, but one always stood out the most, the one few people knew of.

She was four, piloting her tiny kart around a makeshift track at Interlagos. The familiar scent of burnt rubber and exhaust fumes flooded her senses, transporting her back to a time before tragedy struck. Y/n grinned, her hair whipping in the wind, as she pushed her little kart to its limits.

A wild turn, a sickening jolt, and the world tilted sideways. Then, strong arms scooped her up. "Tudo bem aí, filha?" (Everything okay there, darling?) Her father's voice, warm and reassuring. He checked her over, a playful glint in his dark brown eyes. "Você tava indo bem, se assustou?" (You were doing great, did you scare yourself?)

Y/n shook her head, a defiant tear clinging to her cheek. “Eu acho que tá bom por hoje já.” (I think that’s enough for today) Ayrton ruffled her hair, a conforting glint in his eyes. “Não pai, eu quero baixar o tempo da volta”(No dad, I wanna lap faster) little y/n stood her ground, already half way back into her kart. "Vamos voltar lá e mostrar como se faz então, Senninha” (Let’s go back there and show who’s boss then, Senninha).

The memory faded, replaced by the rhythmic sound of the waves. Anya stopped, chest heaving. Frustration gnawed at her. She would never know that feeling of hearing him cheer her on in that deep, familiar voice again. All she had were these fleeting snippets, these echoes of a life stolen too soon.

Each stride was a battle cry against the past, a desperate attempt to find some semblance of peace. She ran until the sun climbed higher, painting the sky in vibrant hues, until her lungs burned and her legs screamed for mercy. Finally, Y/n slowed to a walk, chest heaving, sweat stinging her eyes.

Collapsing onto a weathered bench, she leaned forward, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. As the initial wave of exhaustion subsided, a new clarity washed over her. The memories would always be there, a bittersweet reminder of a love lost.

But today, she would celebrate his life, his passion, his legacy that lived on, not just in her name, but in the hearts of countless who still chanted his name at races.

Returning to the hotel, Y/n showered, the steam slowly clearing the remnants of the run and the emotional turmoil. Opening the bathroom door, she found Lewis propped up on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up, a concerned look in his warm brown eyes.

"Morning," he said, his voice slightly raspy. "Early run?"

She offered a tired smile. "Needed to clear my head." She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling a towel around her damp hair. "Big day ahead"

Lewis put down his phone, his gaze intent on her. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice softer now. "You alright?"

Taking another deep breath, she met his gaze. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Just… emotional, even more so this year"

Lewis reached out and took her hand, his touch a warm anchor in the storm of her emotions. "No judgment," he said quietly. "Today isn't easy for you, I know."

Y/n leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his understanding. "Interviews all day and the dinner at night" she sighed. "They want me to relive it all – the memories, the grief. It gets exhausting sometimes."

Lewis nodded. "Then maybe you should have your people reschedule them. There's no need to—"

She cut him off with a gentle shake of her head. "No, Lew. I can't hide from it. Today may be hard, but it's important. It's a chance to celebrate his life, to keep his memory alive." she squeezed his hand, a newfound determination strengthening her resolve. "I just…" she hesitated, her voice thick with emotion, "I wish I could remember more."

Lewis's gaze softened further. "You may not have years of childhood memories, but you carry his spirit in you. His passion, his strength, that's part of who you are."

Y/n looked out the window, at the city slowly waking up to a new day. His words held truth. She may not have clear memories of her father, but his legacy, his love, was woven into the fabric of her being.

Taking another deep breath, she met Lewis's gaze, a small smile danced in her eyes "I hope so.”

Today would be impossibly hard. As people celebrated a hero, she would mourn a loss, but they would all be facing the future nonetheless. He may have been gone, but the love he gave her remained, with her and in her.

"I remember you my way, It’s not perfect or fair, I paint you with colours, That weren’t ever there. Feels harder these days after so long, ‘Cause my memory fades"

The sterile hotel conference room felt strangely warm, the air thick with a mix of anticipation and unspoken grief. Y/n sat opposite Galvão Bueno, the legendary Brazilian motorsport commentator, his kind eyes reflecting a lifetime of witnessing triumphs and tragedies on the track. This wasn't just another interview. Galvão knew Ayrton. Knew him not just as a driver, but as a friend, a competitor, a kindred spirit who left a void in Brazilian hearts, and most acutely, in Y/n's.

The interview began, a dance between formality and shared history. Galvão's questions flowed, laced with a quiet respect that Y/n appreciated. "O Ayrton" he began, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips "sempre teve uma maneira diferente de cativar o público” (always had a way of captivating a room"

Y/n nodded, a flicker of curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Ele tinha” (He did) she admitted "Mas para ser bem honesta, eu lembro de sempre ficar puxando ele para sair dos lugares porque ele parava para conversar com todo mundo” (But to be honest, I remember always dragging him out of place since he would stop and talk to everyone)

A warm chuckle escaped Galvão's lips at her confession. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Você sabia que antes de toda corrida, ele fazia um ritualzinho? Ele parava na frente do carro, fechava os olhos, e... bom, ninguém sabe direito o que ele fazia. Mas ele tocava o carro em três lugares específicos – o nariz, a roda direita dianteira, e aqui” (Did you know that before every race, he'd have this little ritual? He'd stand by his car, close his eyes, and…well, no one knew exactly what he did, but he'd touch the car in three specific places – the nose cone, the front right wheel, and then, right here) Galvão tapped his chest over his heart.

Y/n smiled, surprised that someone still remembered that sequence. But, although this was the Ayrton Senna she knew from the countless documentaries and newsreels, how he recounted that from memory was a glimpse of a private Ayrton, a man seeking solace and strength before the roar of the engines began, not something she would notice while watching a video.

"E tem mais, Senninha” (There's more, Senninha) he said, using the affectionate nickname many Brazilians called her. "Você sabe que ele era muito supersticioso. Ele nunca usava um capacete novo pela primeira vez em um final de semana de corrida. Sempre insistia em um mais velho, mesmo que estivesse ruim para usar.” (He was fiercely superstitious, you see. He wouldn't wear a new helmet for the first time on a race weekend. Always insisted on the old one, even if it was a little worse for wear.)

Y/n couldn't help but let out a small laugh, a welcome sound that broke the tension in the room. "Parece exatamente algo que ele faria” (That sounds exactly like something he’d do) she said, a newfound appreciation blooming in her chest.

Galvão continued, weaving a tapestry of anecdotes. He spoke of Ayrton's meticulous work ethic, his relentless pursuit of perfection, and then, with a twinkle in his eye, of his playful side. "Ele sempre arrastava os reporters brasileiros para o kart em Interlagos, lá onde você aprendeu a pilotar” (He'd always drag Brazilian reporters to go-kart at Interlagos, right there where you learned how to race" he reminisced, a fond smile creasing his face. "E deixa eu te contar, seu pai sempre ganhava da gente, por muito!" (And let me tell you, your father would always bet us, by far)

Y/n listened, captivated. These were stories of a man, not just a legend. A man who found joy in competition, even outside the high-pressure world of Formula One. As the interview progressed, a kaleidoscope of Ayrton unfolded before her, a man filled with complexities and contradictions, yet undeniably her father.

Stepping out of the stifling conference room, Y/n felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. Galvão's interview had stirred a potent cocktail of emotions within her – a heady mix of pride, nostalgia, and a gnawing sense of loss. Back in her hotel room, she found her ant Viviane unpacking a basket of goodies as she waited for her youngest niece. The scent of warm pão de queijo filled the air, a familiar comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

"Você chegou, florzinha" (You’re here, little flower) the elder woman said, her voice as warm as the sun, pulling Y/n into a tight embrace. "Como foi?” (How did it go)

Y/n sank into the hug, the scent of lavender and her ant’s comforting embrace temporarily pushing aside the weight of the interview. "Foi bom” (It was good) she mumbled, pulling away slightly. “Galvão knew Dad well, that's for sure” y/n’s changed to English, hoping it’d be okay to use the language she didn’t have to think so hard to answer back in.

Both women sat by the outdoor sitting area of the room, the crash of the waves a comforting distraction as y/n ate the last bits of the cheese bread that were being served all day during the interviews on the anniversary and promotions for the new Netflix show.

"I believe everything's going well for the dinner latter tonight” the younger offered, more out of obligation than conviction. Viviane’s gaze sharpened, the lines around her eyes crinkling with a quiet understanding. She held Y/n’s gaze until she asked "But something troubles you, doesn't it?"

Y/n hesitated, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. It was a familiar pattern her family knew all too well, the switch to English, the fiddling, the lack of glint in the eyes she had inherited from Ayrton.

Taking a deep breath, y/n confessed, "It's just…all these interviews, all these stories about Dad. I feel like everyone knew a part of him I never did."

A shadow flickered across Viviane’s face, a brief echo of the grief they both still carried. She reached out, gently squeezing Y/n's hand. "My love" she began, her voice soft yet firm “Beco was a complex man. Even those closest to him couldn't fully grasp him. He was a whirlwind, a force of nature on the track, but off it…" she paused, a wistful smile gracing her lips. "He was a private man, and yes, perhaps a little distant at times. He lived for his racing, dedicating every fiber to it."

Y/n nodded, a familiar ache tightening her chest. "It's not that I blame him," she said quietly. "He was the best."

Viviane’s smile softened. "He was, my darling. But being the best came at a cost. It left little room for the mundane, the everyday things that build memories."

A flicker of a childhood memory sparked in Y/n's mind – the faint scent of her father's cologne, the warmth of his hand enveloping hers as they walked through a park. They weren't grand gestures, but they were hers, proof of a love that existed beyond trophies and championships.

The elder saw the shift in Y/n's eyes, the glimmer of a forgotten memory. "Não se compare com o Galvão ou com qualquer outro, meu amor” (Don't compare yourself to Galvão or the others, my love) she said gently. "Você é a filha dele. Você conheceu o Beco, o homem com o mesmo olhar que o seu” (You are his daughter. You knew Beco, the man with the same eyes as yours)

Y/n's gaze drifted out to the bustling Miami cityscape, a blur compared to the vivid image forming in her mind's eye – a playful smile on her father's face as he taught her how to say pão de queijo. It was a fleeting memory, but a precious one nonetheless.

The stories, though fragmented, were pieces of a larger puzzle, a picture of her father that was starting to take shape, not just as a legendary driver, but as a man capable of love, laughter, and quiet moments of joy.

As they finished their lunch, Viviane placed a comforting hand on Y/n's cheek. "Go now, my darling," she said, her voice soft yet strong. "Celebrate your father, honor his memory. But don't forget to celebrate the love you shared, the love that lives on within you."

Y/n nodded, tears welling up in her eyes, this time tears of gratitude for the woman who had been a constant source of love and support throughout her life. Leaning in, they embraced tightly. "Obrigada, tia. Por tudo" (Thank you, antie. For everything) she whispered, the words thick with emotion.

As she left the hotel room later, for another round of interviews before the official dinner, Y/n went to the window, gazing out at the ocean once again, taking a deep breath, she whispered, "Obrigada, pai. Por tudo.” (Thank you, dad. For everything). It was a simple phrase, but for her, it held the weight of a lifetime of love and an unspoken promise to keep his legacy alive.

"And these aren’t tears because you’re gone, But for all the years that we lost, All those times I missed that love, Had it just for a moment"

As the night dawned in Miami, the heat dissipated but the humidity continued to clung to the city like a second skin. Y/n bustled around the room, a flurry of nervousness. The dinner to celebrate Ayrton Senna’s legacy started in a couple of hours and although the event had been meticulously planned for weeks, and by at least 30 people, the weight of the world felt concentrated on Y/n shoulder’s, the formal host to the dinner.

Lewis emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his lower waist, beads of water clinging to his dark braids. He stopped short at the sight of Y/n, a smile spreading across his face as he took sight of her sat perched on the edge of the bed, a faded white t-shirt of his hanging loosely on her slender frame, a white towel turbaned around her wet hair.

"Planning on hitting the town like that?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. "Although" he added, his voice dropping a touch lower, "I do love the look."

Y/n laughed, a sound that banished the last vestiges of worry from Lewis's heart. "Not quite," she said, her smile widening. "I’m trying to figure out what to post"

He noticed her phone held open on the bed, displaying two video options. As he walked closer, his bare chest brushing against hers for a fleeting moment – a small reminder of the intimacy they shared – Y/n looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with a light he hadn't yet seen earlier in the day.

"Help me choose" she said, her voice filled with a newfound energy.

He picked her up and sat her on his laps, occupying her place by the edge of the bed, the scent of his shower gel a subtle but pleasant counterpoint to the sweet aroma of the lotion she had applied. He leaned over to see the two videos.

The first one, showed a baby Y/n, barely a year old, toddling through a sun-dappled garden, her chubby arms flailing as she chased a flurry of brightly colored butterflies. In the background, Ayrton with a gentle smile on his face, playfully swatting the butterflies away from his daughter with a swatting motion.

The second video, showed a slightly older Y/n, around two years-old, in a swimming pool. Ayrton, submerged in the water next to her, was demonstrating how to blow bubbles. Y/n, a mischievous glint in her eyes, mimicked his actions, creating a flurry of glistening bubbles that danced around her face.

"The bubble one. Something about that mischievous gleam in your eyes always has me hooked” Lewis said, amusement dancing in his voice

Y/n laughed, a sound so genuine and unburdened that it made Lewis's heart skip a beat. "I was always a rowdy thing" she admitted, a playful glint in her own eyes.

"A charming one, at that," Lewis confirmed, reaching out to kiss her shoulder. Picking the video, Lewis handed the phone back to her. "Let the world see that side to you" Y/n grinned, tapping on the screen to schedule the post.

She got up and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed, and a few minutes later Lewis walked into Y/n intently listening to her phone on speaker, as she fiddled with a stray curl as she spoke.

"Adriane" she soothed; her voice laced with a warmth that cut through the phone's static. "Você está indo como minha convidada, lembra?” (You're coming as my guest, remember?)

A nervous laugh tinkled on the other end. “Eles sabem disso?” (Do they know that?). Andriane, Ayrton's last girlfriend and a prominent Brazilian television personality.

Y/n bit her lip, a pang of sympathy shooting through her. "Eu sei.” (I do know) she sighed. "Eu sei que eles nunca realmente te aceitaram, mas você era diferente. Você foi a única que ele me apresentou” (I know they never really accepted you, but you were different. You were the only one he introduced me."

A brief silence followed, then Adriane spoke, her voice softer now. "Ele queria uma família, Y/n. Uma família para você. Ele sempre falava isso, seu futuro, com ele” (He wanted a family, Y/n. A family for you. He talked about it all the time, your future, with him)

Y/n's heart clenched. Memories flickered – fleeting glimpses of her father smiling at her from across a dinner table, his eyes holding a tenderness she hadn't quite understood at the time. Perhaps, she thought, there had been more to those moments than she'd realized.

"Obrigada Adriane, por tudo. Por ter sido parte da vida dele, e por ser parte da minha, do seu jeito.” (Thank you Adriane, for everything. For being a part of his life, and for being a part of mine, in your own way) she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Adriane sniffled softly and then laughed “Você é tão charmosa quanto ele, Senninha” (You are as much of a charmer as he was, Senninha) a sound that banished the last traces of tension. "Vai dar tudo certo.” (Everything will be alright)

With a final exchange of goodbyes, Y/n hung up. Glancing over at Lewis, who was attempting to understand the few Portuguese words he could understand. She took a deep breath. "My family’s not gonna make this any easier" she sighed, her voice hesitant.

Lewis turned and reached for her, pulling her by the waist with a questioning look etched on his face. Y/n, feeling a flicker of anxiety, explained the conversation, but mostly of the unwavering loyalty she felt towards the woman who held such a significant piece of her father's story.

As she finished, Lewis placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "You miss him, don't you?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with understanding as you gave him a sad smile and nod

"It doesn't matter how long it's been" Lewis continued, his voice firm yet gentle. "Grief doesn't have a deadline."

Y/n remained silent, the weight of his words settling in. He knew the anniversary was a constant reminder, a punch to the gut every year. He could only imagine the whirlwind of emotions it brought – the bittersweet memories mixed with the crushing weight of what could have been.

"It feels unfair, sometimes…" she started, her voice catching signaling she wouldn’t complete her thoughts. Lewis tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer. "It is unfair," he agreed, his voice a low rumble against her ear

Y/n leaned into his touch, seeking solace in his words and the steady beat of his heart. The dam finally broke, and a light sob went thought her body. Tears streamed down her face, hot and silent. Lewis held her close, whispering reassurances against her hair, letting her feel without judgment.

"Every year," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "it's like a punch to the gut. A reminder of all the birthdays, holidays, just…everyday moments I missed with him." Her voice cracked. "Everyone has stories, memories. They remember his laugh, his jokes, his warmth. All I have are these…flashes of moments, barely enough to string together a semblance of who he was."

Lewis didn't try to fix it, to offer empty platitudes. He simply held her gaze as she spoke, a silent promise etched in his eyes. He wouldn't try to replace the memories she never had, but he would be a part of her future, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold.

“It's okay to mourn the future that was stolen from you” he whispered, his voice gentle, as Y/n leaned into his touch, a flicker of something akin to peace flickering in her eyes. "Do you think he would have liked me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The question hung heavy in the air. It was a question she'd probably grappled with for years, a silent fear gnawing at the edges of her grief. Lewis knew he couldn't give her a definitive answer, but he could offer her the solace of a possibility.

"There's no doubt he would have loved you fiercely." he said, his voice firm with conviction. “And he would have been so proud of the woman you've become."

Silence settled between them once more, but this time it was a comfortable silence, filled with a newfound understanding. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For being here, for listening, for understanding."

Y/n turned, her eyes meeting his in the mirror, a fresh wave of tear forming in her eyelids. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"These aren't sad tears" she explained, wiping away at her eyes "They're just…wish you were here' kind of tears… For this" Y/n gestured at the phone on the counter. "For the celebration, for being surrounded by people who loved him. I just wish he could be here too."

Her voice softened, an acceptance in her eyes. The pain and loss would always be there, a part of her story. But there was also space for joy, for celebrating his life, and for building a future for herself.

As he pulled her into a warm embrace, Lewis whispered into her ear, "He is here, Y/n. In you, in your strength, in the mischief you still carry in your eyes. Every step you take forward is partly because of his love for you."

They stood there for a moment longer, a silent conversation passing between them. Y/n pulled away, wiping the last vestiges of moisture from her cheeks.

"Alright then" she said, a playful glint back in her eyes. "Let's go celebrate Dad. And show Miami a little Brazilian hospitality."

Lewis grinned. "Lead the way" his arms wrapping her and turning her around so he could kiss her.

The 30th anniversary of his death, although grim and a meticulously planned affair, held a significance that went beyond events, interview and RSVPs. It was a celebration of a life well-lived, a father cherished, and a daughter determined to carry his legacy forward, one mischievous bubble at a time.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #senna!reader #ayrton senna #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #formula 1

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amelee23 · 1 day

Text

My hero | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader

Genre: Married fluff, (a tiny bit of angst)

Word count: 2.400

Requested: yes

Warnings: mention of a stomach bug (very briefly) insecurities (both), self-depricating jokes (both), some marriage difficulties, caring for a child, they're EXTREMELY in love, tooth-rotting fluff

Both you and Chan loved to have your crazy fun, but to a certain limit. A limit you both understood so well, as if it was truly a shared items between your minds. Therefore, after your long awaited wedding ceremony, where tears were shed, dances were danced, cake ended up on the floor and someone's shirt, the bouquet throwing almost knocked someone out, and fortunately no relative started a fight - you both drove peacefully, home. No long flights to Honolulu, no rushing for any 5 star hotel reservation. Just a long, deep sleep.

You awake and instantly chuckle. You barely remember that you basically threw your wedding dress on top of the bedroom door last night instead of finding a hanger. Slept with the door open and all, but you were so exhausted you don't remember even washing your teeth. You turn around gingerly and find your newlywed husband, Chris, to be slightly salivating on the pillow. Nose half shoved inside the fluff, hair every which way and his cute ears poking through, his silver earrings still on. He was a sight to behold, and this sight was truly now yours.

You brush a few strands of hair away from his eyes, and as you accidently touch his ear he shudders. You procrastinate for a good five minutes, in which you gently pet his hair, and then lean to kiss him on the forehead before you get out of bed.

"No, don't leave." He calls out to you, his voice raspy and his accent thick. You give into the temptation and lay back down next to him.

"Good morning, my husband." You say, and it's so cheesy it makes you giggle.

"Good morning, my wife." He says with a toothy grin. You just married him, and you have a lifetime ahead of you to admire him and love him, and yet you're impatiently urging to jump on him and smother him in kisses for how adorable he looks. Cuteness agression and all.

You decide you won't be eating Chris alive one kiss at the time, and instead you lay your head on his outstretched arm and allow him to wrap the other one around your back, bringing you one breath away from his chocolate eyes admiring you sleepily.

"So, what will be our first important decision taken as husband and wife?" Chris asks you, and you furrow your brows. Does he mean something like deciding to paint the room green or getting a cactus?

"Deciding what to eat for breakfast?" He chuckles at your answer.

"The most important meal of the day! Yeah I think that's a very big decision to make. And as your husband, to showcase my deep trust in you, I allow you to have complete power over this first decision." He speaks so eloquently, you slap him on the arm and he begins to giggle.

"You're just too lazy to help me think!"

"What? Me? Neveeeerr."

"And I'm guessing you also want me to go get said breakfast if you're letting me decide what we eat." Chris pretends to gasp.

"How did you know? See, we're perfect for each other! You can read my mind." He makes that usual tutting noise as he winks at you and you go from adoring him to wanting to shove a pillow in his face. But most marriages are like this, you imagine.

"Fine, I'll do it. Under one condition."

"Anything my wife desires."

"You have to answer why you chose me. Like, as your wife. Why me and not anyone else?"

"Why not?" Chris answers with a laugh and you're reaching for the pillow and he doesn't even try to dodge.

"No but really, why did you?" You try your hardest to not show that this is a real question for you. Not just a joke to put your husband in a tough spot for fun, but an actual curiosity that makes you insecure. And Chan hates it when you're insecure.

"I chose you as my wife." You squint at him in a feeble attempt to understand his words.

"Yeah .... you did, since we just got.... married... But why me?" Chan laughs and flails his arms, probably realizing his words didn't come out very coherently.

"No, I chose you as my wife the entire time. It just took me a very long time to realize it.

When I needed an opinion on a song, for some reason I chose you instead of, y'know, the people who produce music with me. When Seungmin caught that stomach bug and I needed to get him to the hospital, I chose to call you to come with us. When I needed to have a serious conversation with someone, I'd call you up even if I'd be surrounded by 15 close friends in physical range of me. I used to choose you even if it was irrational, even if I was a burden to you-"

"You were never a burden to me, Chris."

"I hope I wasn't." He laughs awkwardly, almost as if embarrassed. "But anyways... Yeah. In the beginning I thought I was just being silly, but then I started to notice what I was doing. When my parents asked me if I've met anyone new, I chose you to talk about. Literally yapped for hours - you should have seen their faces! They knew I was in love way before I did. And when I was tasked with writing a love song...I chose you to write about. And then the next morning I chose to start sending you good morning messages every day. Then when I pictured Valentine's day... There was no other option other than spending it with you. So I chose to ask you out before Valentine's so when the holiday comes I could spoil you. And then I just... Continued to choose you. Over and over again." He finishes with a smile, in contrast to you who started crying many sentences ago. You thought you were done crying after yesterday's ceremony, but Chris is a man full of surprises.

"You even chose me over your career a few times..." You say as more tears escape you, a feeling of guilt washing over you. Although the fact that he sacrificed the thing he cares the most about in this world for your sake should prove his dedication, it also still makes you feel guilty to think about.

"And I'd do it again." He leans closer, wiping the tears off of your face, then taking your hand in his to lay tiny kisses on it. "So you see how I just... Chose you? From the get go? It's like I knew I could rely on you, trust you, love you eternally. From the day we met. So it's not... Anything you said or something specific. I just chose you. All of you. To be mine. All mine." He pulls you into a tight embrace and you feel the way your body wraps around his by instinct. Like you were molded to blend together. "You're mine." He kisses the side of your forehead and butterflies wreck your tummy. "My wife."

"But you could have chosen anyone else..." You still mutter unsurely, but Chris shushes you and pats your head.

"But I didn't. And I won't." He reassures you, rocking you left and right in a calming motion. He truly wishes he would be better at showing you and telling you just how much he loves you, how much he wants you in his life. He could never blame you for having insecurities about yourself, but at the same time he feels although he's failing as a lover if he lets those those thoughts invade your mind. He truly wishes his love could seep into your bones.

"So you don't just want me for my spicy chicken recipe?" You try to joke, to ease the atmosphere, bringing Chan out of his thoughts.

"I mean ... The spicy chicken is included in the package, right?" He continued the joke, but underneath that pearly smile he gave you, Chan was set on making you the happiest wife on earth. Whatever it took.

Even if that meant some arguments, some bumps down the road, and making you uncomfortable with affection and attention until you allowed him to love you well. That was a part of marriage no one warned you about, something you had to figure out along the way - that sometimes you have to make each other uncomfortable in order to grow. Sometimes you have to push some limits to become happier.

And so many years into the future, after the birth of you first son, you pushed a limit that wouldn't even seem humanly possible to Chris. You somehow convinced him to go on tour and leave you alone to care for your son. He was two seconds away from quitting his job and becoming a convenience store worker upon hearing just how many months he'd have to away from you and your four year old son, who needed very much to be around his dad at that age. But you convinced him, reassured him everything was going to be okay in his absence.

"Dada's out there spreading happiness into the world." You whispered to your son, who was sleeping in the same bed as you ever since Chris left on tour.

"Like a superhero?"

"Exactly like a superhero, baby. To every single city he goes, he makes people so happy he saves their lives."

"Dada's so cool." Instead of being able to calm him down to get him to sleep, it seems your son gained energy from the conversation instead. He was now flailing his tiny limbs around.

"Do you wanna watch Dada perform?" There is a video of Chris you have saved up on your phone, from a solo stage he had during a concert where he sang a lullaby. It was the most children friendly performance you had, plus it matched the melodicity of the songs Chris used to sing to you at night to soothe your pregnancy pains.

Your son always falls asleep listening to his father's voice, almost through magic.

When his breathing evened out, you thought it was finally time you kick back and relax with an episode of your favorite show while enjoying some not-so-recommended late night chocolate. As you headed into the hallway, you spotted Chan leaning on the wall and had to glue a hand over your mouth to not scream and wake up your son.

"Chris, you scared the shi- .... heck outta me! What are you doing here?"

"We have a few days off in between stops and I couldn't just sit in a hotel for three days while I was dying to see you two."

"So you're telling me you spent 10 hours on flight, to stay here for one day and then fly back to god knows where?"

"Exactly." He says, face full of dimples and his eyes sparkle in the dark shadows of the hallway.

"You're insane." You laugh quitely.

"No, I'm... a superhero...? That saves lives...? You gotta let me know what you've been telling him, or else he might be disappointed in me when he finds out I can't fly."

"You don't need to fly to be a superhero."

"Oh yeah? Then care to tell me what makes me a superhero?" He flirts with you, gently pushing your hips into the wall behind you as he leans over you. You keep an eye on the door to make sure your son doesn't wake up and walk in to see how big of a flirt his father is. He'll have decades to cringe over it later.

"Remember when I used to feel bad for all the nice things you used to do for me? All the help and the gifts?"

"Mhm." The limits Chris used to push and how they bothered you - they resulted in a lot of friction early on in the marriage.

"And you told me that I need to allow you to make me happy. And since then... I chose to. Just how you chose me to be your wife... I chose to let you make me happy. I chose to allow you to be my hero. It's tricky, because heroes need sleep too ..." You softly caress his cheeks, and even under the dim atmosphere of the hallway you can see the dark bags under his eyes. "and they can't always save the day... but I swear to God you make the world a better place. You make my world a better place. You're my hero."

Chris leans in to kiss you in the same way he did when you were young and unmarried. It's a kiss that burns you, a kiss that makes you feel like a woman. A kiss that made you want to be married. A kiss that teaches you to breathe underwater.

"You call me a superhero when you're literally managing a house, a job, a kid, a long distance relationship, a social life and yourself all at once. And somehow nothing is on fire and you're not losing you mind even when your good for nothing husband doesn't call or text for days."

"Don't talk about yourself like that!" You slap him on the chest, but unfortunately he's not in a joking mood.

"You're the superhero between the two of us, honey. If there's one thing I've learnt along the years it's... That the reason why I chose you as my wife.. the one you were asking me about all those years ago? Maybe there was actually a reason. That you were always stronger than me."

"Me? You're joking, right?"

"Not at all. You're the hero, I'm just trying to be the wind behind your wings. I'm sorry for missing your calls and not video-calling more often, and just.. being gone in general. I've missed you." You decided to drop the subject since Chris seemed too emotional to be coherent. You weren't mad at him for anything, and he surely was undermining himself by calling you the strong one.

Unfortunately, it's not like you would accept the title of hero and he wouldn't accept it either.

The one thing you didn't realize is that you were both superheroes. But it's okay, since your son was onto you a long time ago. He'll protect your secret, and hopefully, also grow into a superhero himself.

Check out my ko-fi if you want to consider donating!

✂️ ------------------------------

I'm back bby

Please comment and reblog, a feedback a day keeps a writer's dread at bay!

Soft hours open! Send me your fluff fantasies so we can go delulu together!

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sassycheesecake · 3 days

Text

"Hello everyone, I’m going ta do a -" The young Miya chef starts to speak into a video camera, his black shirt carrying his restaurant logo over his right pec muscle. His black messy hair looks like he just rolled out of bed ten minutes ago, which he secretly did because Atsumu has shown up at seven in the goddamn morning to remind Osamu of the bet that the younger twin has lost only a month ago.

The Miya twins challenged each other to do the Chubby Bunny challenge and when Osamu was about to win, you came running into the living room in just a towel because you saw a cockroach on the bathroom wall and didn't know that Atsumu came over while you were in the shower. The chef almost choked on the marshmallows when he saw you in a single towel, causing Atsumu to shriek in victory with his mouth full of marshmallows as well. In the end, you had to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on both of them.

Since it’s off-season for the professional volleyball player, he has nothing better to do than bother his younger brother and Osamu‘s pretty partner on a regular Saturday morning.

"You’re not even going to introduce yourself?" You interrupt him with a little laugh behind the counter with the video camera, where you are seated next to Atsumu so you can film your boyfriend.

"I’m Osamu Miya and today-" The ravenette starts again.

"Ya forgot ta mention the great Atsumu Miya's twin brother-" Atsumu adds cheekily, interrupting him yet again.

Osamu can’t stop the highly aggravated sigh escaping from him, and he sends his brother a death glare behind the camera.

“ANYWAY- I am going ta show ya’ll how ta make a simple deep fired shrimp onigiri. Joinin' me today is my beautiful assistant an' partner-in-crime, (Y/N)." The grey-eyed twin looks behind the camera where you are seated.

You look up with a surprised face, clearly not expecting to be helping your boyfriend.

Scooching off the bar stool in front of the counter, you hop down and make your way with slow steps to Osamu who watches you with adoration and fondness in his gray eyes.

"What’s the first step?" You ask excited, almost hopping up and down like an excited puppy.

Osamu gives you one of his rare breathtaking smiles, feeling his heart speed up by the happiness on your face.

"Well first, we need ta make sure we got all the ingredients for makin' this." The black-haired chef explains while the camera zooms out a bit and the viewer is able to see the laid out ingredients for making the dish.

Osamu points to each ingredient, explaining what it is, what you need it for and how much you need of it.

"Looks like we got everythin'. Ya ready?" Osamu leans on the counter as he watches you with a grin.

"Yes, chef." You giggle and roll up your sleeves on your hoodie.

You can hear Atsumu gag behind the camera as he hears your flirting.

"Alright. First, yer gonna crack an egg in a bowl an' whisk it, afterwards yer gonna add the flour an' the cold water. Mix all together. Add some spices so it’s not completely flavorless. Ya followin' so far?" Osamu raises his dark eyebrow as he asks you.

You do as he says, nodding in confirmation.

"Good. Now yer gonna put that off ta the side an' grab the other bowl with the flour innit an' put the shrimp in there."

Grabbing the already peeled shrimp out of the fridge, you dump them in the flour and mix it together, making sure that there are no bare parts left on the shrimp.

"Now what?"

"Now yer gonna dip the shrimp in da batter, hold it by its tail and then dunk it a few times in there. I already prepared da fryin' oil pot but I don’t wantcha ta hurt yerself so please let me do the fryin'." Osamu looks at you with his stunning ash-grey eyes and every time he looks at you with those eyes, it makes you weak in the knees, so all you do is stare at him with big eyes and nod your head.

The chef chuckles at your reaction and those chuckles send shivers down your spine.

"(Y/N), yer startin' ta drool over mah brother. Try ta tame yer thoughts please, I can hear them from here." Atsumu teases you with a mischievous grin.

Feeling your face heat up a thousand degrees, you watch as your boyfriend skillfully puts the shrimp in the frying pot, turning them over occasionally because taking them out to put them on a drying tray.

"Leave mah girl outta this. She just knows that I am a lot hotter than you." Osamu explains as he finishes the last bit of frying the shrimp.

"Yannow, if I'd known ya would be disgustin' like this, I would have stayed at home." Atsumu scrunches up his face.

"Door's right over there." Osamu mentions his head towards his front door, clearly not bothered and more than happy to have some alone time with you.

Atsumu pouts and slumps over the counter.

"(Y/N) do something. Yer ass of a boyfriend wants to kick me out." The Setter looks at you for help, giving you those brown puppy eyes.

Curse twins and their equally good looks.

"We still need Atsumu for making the video. And he can clean up afterwards since we are both cooking." You grin up at the younger twin.

"I ain’t cleanin' shit."

"He’s not gettin' anywhere near my damn kitchen."

The twins say in sync.

You laugh at their words, setting the already cooked sticky rice on the counter next to the shrimp, along with the seaweed strips, salt, water and boiled sauce for dipping the cooked shrimp in, before putting it into the rice onigiri.

The restaurant owner shows you how it’s done step by step, being slow with his movements, so you know how it’s done.

During the trying to copy his movements, the blonde excused himself to use the restroom and Osamu uses the chance to get closer to you.

He stands behind you, putting his giant hand over yours to help you shape the onigiri. He does it on a daily basis and you’re so happy that you are his and he is yours only.

"Try doin' it yerself." The dark-haired man whispers in your ear, sending shivers all over your body and getting goosebumps by his dark voice.

You feel his strong heartbeat against your back and your breathing picks up a bit. Leaning his head next to yours on your shoulder, you feel his smile against your cheek as he watches you try to shape the next onigiri by yourself.

Holding the somewhat triangular-shaped onigiri (it’s more heart shaped actually), you present it to him with an unsure look.

All of sudden, Osamu took a large bite out of it, getting some rice on his lips, shocking you a little bit even though you should have seen this coming, this is Osamu Miya after all.

Humming in bliss, your lover swallows the food before giving you a flirtatious look, turning you around so you’re standing face-to-face.

"Compliments to the chef."

Smiling in delight, the ravenette places a smooth and loving kiss onto your lips, pulling you closer to his body.

You forget the world around you, it’s just you and Osamu. And nothing else matters.

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 3 days

Text

For All Eternity

So much for the planned fic...anyways here you all go, some angst with fluff and comfort at the end!

Summary: Astarion gets badly injured and you nurse him back to health.

The fight started like any other fight usually did, with you doing all you could to avoid one until there was no other option, and then Karlach would happily charge in, swinging her mighty axe to cut the enemies down. Astarion would hide in the shadows, waiting for the perfect opportunity to put a bolt through flesh and you would incinerate whoever was left standing from afar while Shadowheart supported everyone from the backline.

Unfortunately, today’s fight turned out differently. A deurgar had spotted Astarion and went straight for the vampire, bringing its greatsword down to cleave through undead flesh. A cry slipped from Astarion’s lips, alerting you and your companions to what had just happened. Karlach immediately went to work clearing a path to him for you, hacking and slashing at any duergar who came close whilst you ran, faster than you’ve ever run before with the Weave crackling at your fingertips, ready to be unleashed.

Astarion barely manages to roll out of the way of the next blow, hissing when his injured shoulder makes contact with the hard ground and staggers to his feet. He can feel the blood flowing down, seeping through his fingers as he tries to staunch the bleeding to no avail. He messily dodges the next attack but the third connects once more, this time tearing open his thigh. He collapses against the stone wall behind him, painting it red with his blood and he wonders if it’s possible for a vampire to die of blood loss. He’s definitely never heard of one going out in such a way. The thought that he might be the first one to do so brings a sardonic smile to his face, at least he’d go out in a special way.

The duergar snarls in victory and swings again, ready to end the fight when a fireball flies out of nowhere, incinerating it before its blade can land.

“Astarion!” He vaguely hears you call. His vision is getting blurry, he can barely see the charred corpse of the duergar in front of him and he starts to get a little worried. Was he going to die right in front of you? That would be a terrible way to go. You’d cry until you had no more tears left to give, that pretty face of yours all scrunched up and tear-stained. He didn’t like that thought, he’d want you to not be around when he died, he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the hurt he’d caused you by dying.

“Astarion!” Your voice is louder now. You must be close, maybe right in front of him but he can barely see, with black spots eating up more and more of his vision.

“Astarion, look at me! Don’t die on me!” He wonders how shit he looks right now, with his own blood all over him. His armour must be painted in his own crimson liquid, a sorry sight to be certain. For a moment, he wishes you weren’t here to see him in such a state but then the fresh scent of your blood floods his nostrils and all he can think about is how hungry he is.

Instinctively, he opens his mouth and lets the blood in, swallowing every drop that comes his way. He hears you let out a sigh of relief and you swim into view as his body heals itself back up with the aid of your blood that is now coursing through his veins.

“Y/N,” he says tiredly, sending you a grin even as his body struggles to keep upright.

“You scared me,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around him.

“I’m a vampire spawn, I’m supposed to scare you.” Even when exhausted, the snark never stops.

“Not you though.” You whisper into his ear, burying your face into his hair. “I’m so relieved I got to you in time.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, feeling his eyelids close. Your embrace feels nice as always, warm, soothing, filled with so much love and care that he starts to slip into unconsciousness, spurred on by his body’s demands to rest and recover.

“Astarion?” He hears the slight panic in your voice. He wills his mouth to open, to reassure you with his honeyed words that everything is alright and he’s just going to take a nap but his mouth refuses to cooperate. His body feels heavy, keeping anything open takes everything he has and he’s losing this fight.

“Astarion please, stay awake, stay with me!” He can hear you beg, beg for him to open his eyes, to look at you, to say something. He does, he really wants to do all those things but his damn body won’t cooperate, and suddenly, he’s seized by this fear that he may never see you again, never feel your touch again, never hear your laugh again.

No. No. He will not let that happen. He can’t lose you, he hasn’t taken his revenge on Cazador yet, he hasn’t told you that he loves you yet, he can’t just roll over and die. Still, his body shuts down and he feel his consciousness slipping away. Fear grips his heart as he struggles against the exhaustion but in the end, he loses.

“Astarion!”

When he next opens his eyes, new scents flood his nose. He can smell medicine, residual blood and…

Something brushes against his arm, causing him to turn his attention to whatever it was at his side. A messy mop of hair obscures the figure’s face but he knows its you, how could he not? All those nights spent running his fingers through that mop of hair, sweat and saliva exchanged, he knew you inside and out, just like how you knew him to the same degree.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. His throat refuses to produce the sound, demanding instead for sustenance, for blood.

“Astarion, you’re awake.”

He never gets tired of the way his name rolls off your lips. He could listen to it all day but you’d probably get bored of doing that for a whole day so he settles for simply listening to your voice all day instead.

You slice open your wrist, pressing the wound to his lips and he drinks from it thirstily, swallowing huge gulps at a time. The liquid washes down his throat, wetting it and sends new waves of energy surging through his body, breathing life back into it.

It's at this point he usually stops drinking, ensuring you didn’t die from blood loss but you don’t pull away, neither do you show any sign of wanting him to stop. He stops anyways, not wanting to be the cause of your death and looks at you quizzically when you press the still bleeding wound to his lips once more.

“Drink,” is all you say, in a firm tone that leaves no room for discussion. He obliges, still worried about your health but then Shadowheart comes in with a tray of healing potions and you take a swig from one of them.

You really were going to keep yourself topped up by chugging healing potions.

Normally, Astarion would warn you against doing so but his body desperately wants blood, and you were willing to provide so he continues drinking, taking short breaks in between to ensure you didn’t suddenly collapse or anything. He didn’t want to face the wrath of the party members outside should he be the cause of your death, not that he wanted you to die from him drinking your blood in the first place.

At last, his hunger is satiated and he licks the wound, signalling that he has no more need of your blood for the time being. You withdraw your arm, finishing off the bottle of healing potion to allow the wound to close and turn back to face him, checking him over.

“I’m quite alright, darling. No need to fret.”

“Just checking.”

“Thank you for your concern, love, really, but would you be so kind as to not look at me as if I were on death’s door?”

“You were just moments ago!”

“If I recall correctly, being undead means I’m already dead. Therefore —”

“You had me worried sick! I thought you were going to die!” Tears prick the corners of your eyes. Astarion swallows whatever he was going to say, his mind racing through all the possible ways of consoling you.

“I…I…” The words lodge themselves in your throat, your saliva thick with tears as you struggle to put your jumbled thoughts into words.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you sob. “Back then, when I saw the duergar about to swing his sword down, all I could think about was that I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want you to leave me, I wanted you by my side, I wanted you with me.”

He holds you close, feeling your tears stain his clothes but he doesn’t care. He lets you cry, releasing all your pent up frustrations in one go and simply hugs you tightly.

“I’m…sorry, for worrying you,” he murmurs, the apology meant only for your ears. You bury your face deeper into his shoulder in response, fingers gripping tightly onto his shirt. He breathes in your raw scent, unearthed by your lack of a bath and whispers how much he loves you in all the ways he knows how without using the word ‘love’.

“Promise me, that you won’t pull such a stunt again?” You plead, looking into his ruby red eyes with your tear-stained ones.

“I promise, love. You will have me for all eternity.”

“And I promise too, that you will have me for all eternity.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #astarion fluff #astarion fic #bg3 fluff #bg3 fic

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hiddenlife-manager · 2 days

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I beg i beg i beg, i’ve read your latest Carlos fic repeatedly, PLEASE give me a part two, please please please i know it isn’t everyone’s taste but ITS MINE PLEASE

Carlos Sainz Jr Anal x femReader

cw... raw, cock, nsfw, anal sex, slight praise kink, creampie in ass, plot, hair gripping, hair pulling, simple sex due to injury, soft dom carlos, overstimulation, lube usage, lack of female pronouns, and lack of breast mentions, etc

notepad... hehe you ask and you recieve I wanted to go with a slight softer point of view in this due to his appendix being removed. I am like down for an anal series cause when i tell you I HAVE A LIST OF POSITONS. Anyway one down of the two stories I am writing for this month.

Part One

“He did it again. Carlos Sainz has won the Australian Grand Prix.” You heard an announcer state through the monitors hung on the walls in the Ferrari garage. You shook your head and placed your hands on your head to breathe for a moment. This race left you stressed, your mind worrying only about Carlos's current condition. What comforted you was seeing his car cross the checkered line, which allowed you to see Carlos was perfectly fine. You fanned yourself off rather quickly and rushed off with the rest of the Ferrari team to join the crowd.

Carlos drove his car into the garage and got out slowly, with the help of others, due to his inability to move rather quickly. He pumped his arm up in the air, walking to the crowd of all his team members; they hugged and cheered his name for this amazing win. The group high-fived or hugged him to celebrate. He eventually reached you, hugging you tightly, not letting you go for even a second, still wearing his helmet. Your lips kissed his hemelt, saying goodbye. He took his helmet and neck support off and celebrated with Lando and Charles before heading to the podium while you clapped the entire time.

The entire day was filled with interviews that he had to participate in. Carlos's win was important for multiple reasons; it showed his worth as a driver and also made him the only person so far to break current world champion Max Verstappen's streak. Yet he finally arrived back at the garage and walked slowly, his one hand resting on his side, where his appendix was and where the bandages currently are. He embraced you, allowing you to give extra support by placing your arm behind his muscular back.

“Another win for Carlos Sainz Jr., and right after getting his appendix removed, it is quite impressive.” You spoke with nothing but a joking tone. He looked down at you and kissed your lips quickly. “Amor, cállate.” He laughed while the two of you walked to the car. You helped him in carefully and couldn’t help but laugh just a bit.

“I am simply stating a fact. Perhaps all drivers should get their appendices removed. Well, except for Alex, his appendix is gone.” You two sat beside each other in the car, his hand slowly going up your leg. He didn’t care if he had his appendix removed or just raced; he wanted his part of the deal. Ever since the first time he made it to the podium, he wanted his gift. It had been four times in total, and now he wanted it again. “Recuerda el trato.” He whispered in your ear; he knew speaking in English risked the driver hearing it, and you had learned the saying, so you knew what he was saying.

Your lips were on his the moment the both of you entered the hotel room. The door shut behind you two, but you made sure to be careful with Carlos. You were well aware he was still recovering and was feeling slight lingering pain. You grabbed his hand the second you two stopped kissing and slowly walked him to a chair. You sat on his lap, being careful.

"Carlito, I will never forget,” you smirked, kissing his neck and slowly going down his body. “Besides, I have been planning the best way to do this.” Your hands reached his zipper and slid it down. His cock came out, and it was clear he was worked up. You heard him let out a gentle breath, but no moan. You wanted to take your time, but knowing Carlos, he just wanted to be with you. You sat up, walked over to the luggage, and pulled out the lube. You tossed it to him, and even if he was recovering, Carlos never missed it and caught it with ease.

“Amor, you are truly rushing.” Carlos paused but chuckled, shaking his head and running his hand through his dark and soft hair. He opened the bottle and squeezed it onto his cock. You walked over to him. You were still standing, and Carlos was sitting staring up at you with his signature smile on his lips. Your hands touched his cock and began to spread a generous amount of lube. “I don't mind, eres mia after all.” He groaned and threw his head back. Your hands were working around his cock, and smirked.

“You love this, Carlos. I know you're sad. You can’t fuck my ass every single day.” He placed the bottle to the side and grabbed your hair, pulling you up and kissing your lips. He let go of your hair and placed his hands on your hips, rolling through your dips. He helped you onto his lap so you didn’t hurt him. You decided to just rely on the lube his cock had, knowing it would take longer for you to get him in you.

You slowly lowered your ass onto his cock and groaned as you gripped his shoulders and fell forward. He didn't care; he loved how weak you got. You moaned as you slowly made him enter and stretch you out. You were clearly struggling to take him in. You got him half way into you, but you had to stop. You pulled yourself off of him and were breathing heavily.

“You can take it.” He whispered in your ear, caressing your hips, and you fully put yourself on his cock and moaned loudly. You couldn’t believe how good it always felt. You were out of breath from him being inside of you. Slowly, you started to go up and down, moving the way you knew he liked it. You rolled your hips each time you went down on him, and you could hear his soft grunts. “Perfecta…” He groaned as you were slow.

“Love being on the podium, Carlito?" He smirked as he kissed your lips and held your hips to go up and down at a faster pace. You were a mess from the way he was softly praising you; he loved your body so much that he desired this more than any man. His hips slightly buckled up into your ass, and he was able to pull out a louder moan from you. Your hips went faster while moans began to slip from your lips, and he continued to kiss you, attempting to disguise the moans through kissing. It was clear he was feeling just as weak as you were; the feeling of tightness was overwhelming, and he loved your thighs against his.

“Si, si asi!” He groaned as you went faster and faster on his cock. You were grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand, and your other pulled at his hair, gently snaking up from behind his neck. He smirked as you were being very vocal through moans but no words. He may have just gotten out of surgery, but he needed this; he needed you and your ass. You had everything he wanted. He continued to praise you in Spanish.

“Me vengo!” You moaned. He loved you using the Spanish that he taught you. He placed his lips on your neck and began to suck as he took over, fucking your ass. You were clearly slowing down, and he would continue as you shook. Your orgasm hit you hard, and he cared very little, his cock ramming into your ass, your arms holding onto him weakly. “So much…” You moaned, but you were nothing but a mess, moaning and crying out loud. He loved the noise you made. It was clear you were perfect for him. He eventually felt himself get closer and closer, ramming harsher into your ass until he came inside your ass. You let out one last sigh of pleasure as you fell on him weakly.

“I need to teach you more Spanish words.” He pulled out of you, and he helped you off him as you leaked his cum, and he kissed your neck. “Estoy cansado y tu.” You nodded, and he was still weak from his surgery, but he sat there, hugging you tightly and brushing your hair with his hands.

#fanfic #x reader #oneshot #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #ferrari carlos #carlos sainz #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz jr #cs55 x reader #cs55 smut

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