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#lots to give yet still can’t help but want
viperwhispered · 2 days
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Rest
Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.
At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 
However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.
You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.
So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.
It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.
At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.
“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.
Of course.
It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.
You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.
“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.
“Yes.”
“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”
“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.
Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.
“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.
Really, when did he get so tired?
And how did you not notice it earlier?
You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.
Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.
You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.
Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.
Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.
“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.
Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.
“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”
“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.
Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.
But sometimes you really wish it would be.
Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.
Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.
“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”
You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.
“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”
Still, Jamil frowns.
You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?
“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.
And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.
“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.
It seems he has accepted his fate.
You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.
And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.
Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!
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in1-nutshell · 3 days
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I WANNA SEE MEGATRON’S DAUGHTER GOING TO TFE! I wanna see another Megatron being her father figure
Maybe the terrans would be their new siblings when their in that universe as well :3
I got a lot of similar request like this, so, they will all be combined in this one.
Hope you enjoy!
Megatron's daughter with opposite personality meeting the Maltos
SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader
TFP/TFE
The Terrans were in the sub lab waiting for Wheeljack to introduce them to his latest build.
A mini groundbrigde for smaller travels.
They started up the machine.
The machine whirling to life.
“Hmmm… got to admit this is a first. Wheeljack’s invention hasn’t caught on fire yet.”--Elita
Wheeljack puffs his chassis a bit in pride.
The portal starts malfunctioning.
“I take that back.”--Elita
“EVERYONE GET DOWN!”--Wheeljack
A figure gets shot out the portal and flies straight into the wall behind everyone.
Everyone winces when the figure slides down the wall and lands face first on the floor.
Buddy groans as she feels some servo help her stand up.
Nightshade and Hashtag go to the bot and help them to their pedes.
“Are you all right? You took quite a fall.”--Nightshade
Buddy blinks looking at the green bot and the larger purple bot.
“Umm… thank you? You guys have been the first to ask me—”--Buddy
Buddy zeroes in on Megatron in the room.
Twitch notices the bot staring at Megatron.
“Oh! This is Megatron! He’s might not look like it but his a good guy!”--Twitch
Buddy raises her optics a bit.
“Good guy?”--Buddy
“He changed during the war.”--Bumblebee
Buddy looks at Bumblebee and walks up to him.
“Bee? You can talk in this universe?”--Buddy
“I can what in what?”--Bumblebee
Buddy takes a deep vent.
“To make this short. I’m from another universe, I got sent here through random portals that keep bringing me to different dimension of sorts, and now I’m going to be here until another one arrives in a couple of days—Oh Primus! Wheeljack what do you have on your face plate! Wait, getting off topic. Am I missing something… Is your war over?”--Buddy
“Yes, ummm…”--Optimus
“Oh! Yeah, my name! I’m Buddy.”--Buddy
“Buddy?”--Everyone
“Yep. That’s the name my father gave me.”--Buddy
“Who’s your dad!?”--Twitch
Thrash pulls Twitch back a bit.
“Looks like we’re going to have a house guest.”--Alex
Buddy did keep some distance between her and Megatron in the beginning before ruling out this Megatron was one of the good Megatron’s.
Buddy nearly faints realizing these Terrans were younger than her.
She immediately assumes the role of oldest of the youngest group.
Buddy was extremely protective of Bumblebee hearing his voice.
Anyone who made a remotely offensive comment about his talking was met with a glare.
The Terrans want to know everything about Buddy’s universe.
Buddy is extremely light on the details.
“We have a small team of Autobots on Earth and a slightly larger group of Decepticon’s.”--Buddy
“What do you do for fun?”--Jawbreaker
“Fun? Like watch indoor movies?”--Buddy
“What about driving around?”--Hashtag
“Umm I don’t really get out much. I’m in charge of decoding relics and texts.”--Buddy
“Relics? Why?”--Nightshade
“What about flying with your Megatron?”--Twitch
Buddy subconsciously makes herself a bit smaller.
“He… We…”--Buddy
“Don’t you guys hang out?”--Twitch
“They don’t hang out.”--Elita
“And how do you know?”--Hashtag
“That’s because her war hasn’t ended, am I correct?”--Megatron
Buddy gives a nod.
The Terrans feel for Buddy.
“The war still going on?”--Jawbreaker
“Yeah…”--Buddy
“Why hasn’t your Megatron done anything for peace yet?”--Robbie
“Because my Megatron can’t be reasoned with. He either wins the war or no one is going to win. And he is willing to hurt anyone he can to keep the war going.”--Buddy
“That can’t be true!”--Twitch
Buddy nods silently.
“Hey Buddy? I’ve notice you haven’t talked about your parents… are they…?”--Nightshade
“No… my father is still alive.”--Buddy
Then that’s good news right?”--Jawbreaker
“Who’s your Dad?”--Mo
Dot and Alex step in.
“Kids I think that’s enough for today.”--Dot
“No, no its fine Mr. and Mrs. Malto. The subject on my father is… difficult to say the least.”--Buddy
“Take your time Buddy. We’re ready when you are.”--Alex
Buddy takes in a deep vent.
“My father is Megatron.”--Buddy
It’s silent.
The Terrans immediately jump to defend their Megatron telling her that he is a good guy now.
Even Bumblebee offered his words on it.
Buddy told them that she believed it, truly.
Any Megatron that was willing to work with Optimus was a good Megatron in her book.
As the days go on Buddy becomes more and more comfortable around the small family the Maltos created.
Buddy is simply blown away by some of the bots and cons around.
She never would have thought there would be a universe where things looked to be so peaceful. Truly a dream.
The Terrans offer to teach Buddy games and even joins in Bumblebee’s exercises.
Buddy also gets into a sparing match with the yellow bot.
It was a pretty close draw with Buddy losing because she saw Fluffy ears.
But there does come a time when Buddy does open up a bit about her past with her Megatron.
“Did your Megatron ever… hurt you?”--Megatron
Buddy nodded, not trusting her voice.
Even after so much talking about the subject, it still made her chock up on tears.
“Was it…”--Optimus
“It was bad yes. I was moved to the Autobots for my own safety after he came back the… I don’t even remember which time he disappeared leaving me in charge again.”--Buddy
“You were in charge of the Cons? Why not stop the war then?”—Megatron
“I never got in contact with my Optimus before he came back. But things are definitely much better now. Not the best but a bit better.”--Buddy
Megatron looks at Buddy for a second and slowly pats her helm.
She just smiles at him sadly.
“I know you feel guilty. But its not your fault. None of it is.”--Buddy
“I’m only sorry to never have had the pleasure of meeting you in this lifetime.”--Megatron
“Maybe you will… or maybe in a way you have.”--Buddy
Buddy and the others look at the Terrans goofing off in the pasture.
Soon enough, the portal comes back.
There are so many hugs for Buddy and open invite to come back.
Buddy is dubbed ‘The Cousin from another universe’.
Buddy wears this with pride.
Nightshade already promises to find a way to get a portal to her universe safely.
“Good-bye everyone!”--Buddy
“Bye Cuz!”--Twitch
In TFP…
Buddy shoots out of the portal straight into Bulkhead’s back.
“…At least it isn’t a wall this time…?”--Buddy
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Despite Everything, You Still Exist [Yan!Aventurine x Reader]
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The short moments when the world remembers you. Hypothetical HSR voice lines based on Sunrise, Sunset, My Destroyed Body In the Onset. Can be read as standalone, though.
Notes: Lol I had some thoughts and doing this right now will mitigate my uncontrollable hype for when 2.1 is out later tonight. (From the future: lol 2.1 is out now ahaha)
Ao3
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The air rings with the sound of cranking slots, spinning roulette, fallen chips, and spilled cards. Some visit for reasons outside the sound; the bar's happy hour, a good meal at the buffet, and the venue where musicians of middling to great renown play. They merely chatter amongst themselves, occasionally sparing a look to the many games at play, perhaps spending a few credits if they want to test their luck. But the ones of note are always the ones playing the game. For some, the sound of a shuffling deck of cards is as familiar as the back of their hand, and they cannot stand to be away from it for more than a day lest they live with the emptiness of their soul. Some have already accomplished much, do not know what they want anymore, and are just here to pass the time. Some are fools, believing they can strike a fortune and climb to the heavens. They feel the most, celebrating triumph and wallowing in despair alike.
But those who stand out most are those who decide to test their luck knowing of destiny's inherent unjustness.
Chat: Limits
"Most people do all they can to live within their limits. Whether it be maintaining their mundane routine, keeping to themselves, or turning away from things that pose too much risk to them. When most reach their limit, they tend to completely shut down, and give up—they dread that risk. What most people don’t realize though is that in breaking limits, you go beyond them. My friend, if you ever see someone reach their limit...pushing them past it will yield something truly special or, if you’re lucky, a destructive yet breathtaking beauty."
Chat: Lovely Things
“What do I like? Trying to gauge my weaknesses now are we? …oh? You just want to get me something out of the sheer goodness of your heart? Aw, you’re too sweet; my friend, we’ve already established such a great bond, you and I, so there is no need to exchange gifts between us! And, gift giving always does bring about jealousy; you wouldn’t want to incite that, would you? Besides, I doubt you could gift me anything lovelier than I already have.
Chat: Change
“Change is a wonderful thing! It keeps things from getting stale and predictable and is the prime ingredient for anything unexpected. Change doesn’t necessarily mean massive shifts like how most people envision, and I wholeheartedly believe one’s own self can remain consistent even with change. Speaking of changes to one’s self…heh, no matter how happy they may be as and with their changed self, a part of them will always mourn the person they used to be…even if the person of old runs counter to their changed self. Hm? A distant look in my eye? Nonsense, my friend! Just think of this as some helpful advice, free of charge. I do hope you’ll be able to put it to practice—I think we’d both hate if I were disappointed, after all.”
Casinos are ultimately reprieve, but eventually, one must return to their obligations. One can’t gamble without money, and money must be made from working. Work comes in many different forms—some work aims to increase other’s gains, some to increase its own, others to retrieve the money which is owed. These individuals are not so hard to find at the casino—like moths to a flame they aim to win with the wealth accrued by another, only to find themselves stripped of it unwittingly. It is easy to rig the game when the opponent believes they are the master. Chat: Interesting People
“My work takes me all over the place, so I get a lot of opportunities to meet all sorts of people! Granted, it’s my work that also causes a lot of meetings to not be on especially amicable terms too. And some of the people I have to deal with are…well, there’s a reason I keep a pistol with me. The best meetings though are when you’re off the clock and free to just wander about! Souvenir shopping, trying out local cuisines and experiencing its culture can be pretty nice, and it’s when me and Numby are just out and about where we meet many. I’m sure you Astral Expressers can relate to that. But, as with all things, some particularly stand out even when you don’t expect. Like, a little while ago, I finally finished a project—a big one that had some of us Stonehearts coming together—and I met this rather pleasant individual. Nice, polite, and their sense of humor wasn’t half bad; even gave me some pastries they made! A short but sweet conversation. But…there was just something…off, about them. My instincts are pretty good when it comes to these sort of things; it’s like…they were keeping themselves at a weird distance. Even though I deal with that a ton during negotiations, this time it just felt odd in a particular way, yet quite uncomfortably familiar. But it was after we said our goodbyes and I saw them again. I don’t know what happened, but then I saw the expression on their face, and…I know what that odd feeling is now. Maybe I should reach out, that guy isn’t exactly…o-oh, sorry! I got a little carried away, didn’t I? And I did sort of lead you on with starting things so lightheartedly…here, why don’t I make it up to you? A few Aetherium Wars booster packs, maybe?”
How do people lose money like this, though? Many go into the casino with the belief it is fair and just, not understanding just how rigged the game is. “Shed any and all illusions of outwitting the system,” one is told, left with nothing when they could not draw an ace of spades.
They are here because for many reasons: circumstance, unfortunate luck and their own hubris. And in that last reason lies the penultimate behind their misfortune: ignorance.
Chat: Willful Ignorance
“Ignorance is a horrid malady, but like all forms of malaise there are multiple variations. The most common is unwillful—what most think of when thinking of ignorance. Cures differ from individual to individual of course, but they tend to be the most simple affair; simple pedagogy does wonders in establishing a baseline knowledge, and for matters of great specificity or those already with baseline knowledge, a few thorough lectures are the ultimate vaccine. Willful ignorance, however, is a much different matter. Its cause is not rooted in the absence of knowledge, but of cognitive dissonance—you find it especially amongst those who have aged, already set in their ways and unwilling to engage with anything to broaden their horizons. For this, treatment must be thorough and harsh; it cannot be absolved without stripping down a patient’s worldview, lens, and grip of reality. But this is not the most vexing form. The hardest ignorance to cure is the one taken on fully aware, knowing it is false and knowing of its folly but nevertheless live by it; you look confused, so I’ll put it in simpler terms: a patient who isn’t ignorant, far from it even, but still lives their life as if they were. Curing this places patients in a rather volatile state. This ignorance is often the patient’s way of coping with a situation, when they’ve exhausted all other forms of protection. …But, I am a scholar. Advancements are not made by talking, it is through action, and eventually, I will be the one to make it. …I simply hope I can make it in time.”
But nothing lasts forever. The patrons return home, drunk or penniless, and the sound drowns out. Staff emerge from their shadows and silently do their part in crafting the honey trap, but even they must leave, and the lights are shut.
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evergreenfields · 2 days
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Tea for Two
Part 2 of Yours Truly, A Hostage (Part 1).
After rescuing you in Piccadilly Circus, the Captain takes you up on your invite. Naturally you make tea, scones and sexual tension.
Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!reader
CW: explicit smut, piv sex, penetration, fingering, descriptions of a male body and female body (reader). MDNI.
Words: 3.5k
A/n: Let me know what you think! Also, I love how reader can afford to live on her own.
——
You honestly didn’t mean to be folded in half and speared so deliciously by John’s cock. It was only supposed to be tea and scones.
He arrived promptly, not giving you a chance to worry you had been ghosted.
You open the door to find him standing with his hands clasped at his front.
“Hello.” He says, it’s a rumble, heat fills you.
“Hi! Come in! Let me take your jacket.” You wave him into your tiny flat.
“Thanks, love.” You don’t watch as he shrugs it off. He’s wearing a green plaid shirt that hugs his broad chest. He looks different to yesterday, you thought he may look smaller as he wouldn’t be encumbered by all the gear and harnesses. But he was still huge, tall and broad. He’s not wearing a hat so you see his hair is neat and kind of side parted with a lot of grey. He’s in dark blue jeans and boots which probably added another 2 inches to his hulking frame.
“How did you know I love a tea party?” he marvels at the teacups while rolling up his sleeves revealing strong bulky forearms covered in dark hair.
“My third eye.” You point mysteriously between your eyebrows, trying to be nonchalant even though you feel flustered as he essentially started the foreplay by revealing his muscled forearms.
“What else does that third eye see?” He looks at you, it's strange how such icy blue eyes can show heat.
“It sees you behaving yourself.” You say with more gumption than you actually felt. You carry over the teapot and he waits to seat you. You can’t help but laugh awkwardly as he gently tucks your chair in.
“You didn’t have to do all this.” He says with mirth, the delicate teacup in his large hand was making you feel a certain way. You try not to stare.
“It’s a bit much.” You say quietly, “but so was yesterday.” Your thighs bounce up and down nervously. “How’s your friend, teammate, the younger guy, Gaz?”
“He’s alright, he sends his best,” Price didn’t want to reveal the full conversation they had when he told Gaz he got your phone number. Things like “but sir she’s closer to my age” and “no sir, she wasn’t complimenting my facial hair.”
“Oh bless him,” you say, touched.
“Are you okay? What you went through yesterday was no cake walk.” His brows knit together.
“It’s not really hit me yet, to be honest.” You admit, feeling conflicted because you were absolutely sidetracked with getting ready for a date with an SAS captain. You had left your statement at the police station earlier in the morning.
“If you need to talk, I’m here. And there’s no shame in speaking to a professional. A proper professional.” When he smiles, his lips disappear into his moustache and you find it was so endearing, smiling unintentionally along with him.
“Are you always like this with… rescued hostages?” You say earnestly, you’re not sure where you’re going with it.
“Definitely not.” He sits back, ramrod straight, “especially as you were so subtle.”
You feel mortified at how eager you were yesterday and it must show because he leans forward with a concerned hand out, as if to say ‘wait’.
“I’m glad you weren’t subtle,” he says quietly, “I was really taken by you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” It feels weird hearing something so vulnerable, it doesn’t feel real. You feel flushed.
“Are you okay?” You ask him, “I know it’s your job but… it must be such a weight on your shoulders.” You reach out without thinking and squeeze his hand, it’s hot while yours is cold.
“You’re sweet,” he whispers “I’ve been doing this a long time, love.” He turns his hand over and envelopes your fingers, you feel patches of rougher skin.
You nod feverishly “I’m sorry I - it’s another world. I just sit behind a desk.” You’re in uncharted territory, he operates in another world, a dangerous one, one that collided with yours yesterday.
“You don’t need to apologise, it’s an important desk.”
You’re not satisfied with that. Trying to find the right words, caressing circles with your thumb into his hand, you blurt out “you were really brave.” You speak through the embarrassment.
“I couldn’t see you but I could hear you.” Your heart rate climbs. “It was…” you breathe out “so decisive and final.” He squeezes your hand. “I knew I was safe.”
He smiles warmly and covers your small hand with his. You sit like this for a moment, in the moment. You were sure the events of the last 48 hours would dawn on you heavily but right now you felt grounded.
“You’re wondering what to do with your other hand now, aren’t you?” He chuckles, breaking the silence.
“Am I that readable?”
“You’re an open book.” He smiles warmly, crows feet etching into his skin.
You reach over and tentatively cup his cheek, his beard tickles your palm, your thumb caresses his cheekbones, he has bags under his eyes, you sense you were right about him carrying unspoken weight. “Am I?” Vulnerability seeps from your pores.
You breathe from your mouth and on your second intake, John has a hand on the back of your neck. His azure eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips. You didn’t realise how your hands got to his shoulders and on the back of his neck.
He pulls you in slowly and you engulf him, the band has snapped, the kiss is deep and forceful. He controls the pace which is deliberate and slow. He bleeds into you and you feel dizzy with the intensity. His mouth is molten on yours.
You both break away with a pant, the table shakes and the cutlery clinks.
“You alright, love?” Both of his hands are back on the table, palms down, unthreatening. His voice is no longer suggestive, but clipped. You search each other’s eyes.
“I’m good.” You nod frantically.
“We can go as far as you want, we can stop right here, you’re in charge alright?” Your heart and stomach flips.
“I-.” You laugh, shaking your head, all you can feel is the wetness growing in your knickers.
“Talk to me, love.” He flips his hands so his palms are facing up.
“I’m not usually like this.” You say, standing up, “but then yesterday wasn’t usual either.”
Pushing your chair back abruptly with a squeak, you climb into his lap and straddle him. You hear a quiet vibration from his throat, a delectable groan.
“If it makes you feel better, neither am I.” He feels just like you imagined but better, harder, expanses of muscle and a layer of mass. Your dress barely covers your ass as you seat yourself on his lap. His hands move along your waist and down to the swell of your hips. You can smell his cologne and see his eyelashes flutter again as his gaze roams over your chest and neck.
He looks up at you and you can’t look back, his gaze is too intense, you want the floor to swallow you up. You look up to your left, feeling goosebumps as he explores your exposed thighs. He presses them, sighing.
He kisses your neck. You feel tickled by his beard hairs and flexing thigh muscles. In response to his kiss, you do what any respectable woman would do on top of a man, you push against his hardening cock. The chair creaks as he bucks his hips up to meet yours, both of your heavy breathes filling the room.
When he hears the moan that tears from your throat, he is undone. He imagined what you sounded like while he got dressed for the date, and this didn’t hold a candle to it. With one swift motion he pushes his seat back and lifts you up. He squeezes your ass which causes your cunt to flutter and twitch, your knickers fall into your folds.
“My bedroom’s out there to the right.” You wrap your legs around him and you feel something hard.
“Fffuck!” You gasp and grind into him, unashamed.
“That’s my belt buckle.”
You whine in response.
“In time, in time.” he kneads your ass while minding your knees through the tight corridor. He gently lays you on the bed and pushes you into the mattress, manoeuvring so his growing manhood is against your throbbing cunt.
“This is a nice room.” He says seriously while only looking at your eyes and pushing his erection against the juncture of your spread legs, waiting for your reaction.
You gasp, “oh it’s big” and push back against him. His eyes roll and you feel emboldened at the sight of this burly man, a captain no less, lost in how your body feels. You reach up under his shirt to feel the mass of his pectorals, you’re electric with need. His bulky arms on either side of your head frame your vision.
“Darlin’ you are beautiful.” He unbuttons his shirt with one hand while still hovering over you. He likes the blush that falls across your features when he opens his shirt. He kisses you deeply before quickly taking the shirt off his shoulders, pecs flexing and skin shining with sweat. You catch that narrow waist and a happy trail of hair disappearing into his jeans which you resented were still on.
You didn’t realise you said “fuck” out loud again and his laugh hits you in your core.
“Your dress is really pretty, can I take it off?” John drawls, you nod and smile dumbly at his flattery, he’s clearly enjoying your fucked out brain working overtime.
You wriggle out from under the dress and let him pull it over your head. His hands claim your breasts in your lacy bra, fitting perfectly in his palms. You think you heard him groan “s’soft” before pressing his lips to yours.
“Did you wear this for me?” He pushes the lace to either side of your swollen breasts and sucks on your nipples. He teases them gently, pleased to feel they were hard and ready for him. The rough pads of his fingers give you much needed friction.
You look up at him doe eyed and then say “I did. Why are your jeans still on?” with a hard tug of his belt.
You see him laugh silently, shaking his head. He gets up from the bed. The loss of his weight makes you bounce up slightly. You pant and touch yourself, mewling at the ceiling.
A wry smile appears on his face as he bends to take off his boots, watching you intently as you draw circles on your clit through your knickers. He drops his boots next to your slippers, they are massive in comparison and you find yourself breathing in sharply.
Finally the zipper comes down and he shucks his jeans. You watch his bulge intently as he moves.
“Are those boxers regulation?” Your mouth is dry. He laughs and you feel that same flash of affirmation you felt when you first met.
“Are you always like this?” He doesn’t climb on top of you, instead he lays beside you and places his hand on top of yours, taking over the job of drawing circles into your bud. He then slides his middle finger down and up your wet slit, collecting your dew in your knickers.
“Definitely not.” You manage to say before you moan and shudder at his touch, you feel a tightening coil and the pleasure spreads through your body like shattered glass, instant and permanent. His fingers are deft and the movement precise.
“Y/n, you’re so wet.” John’s breathing is heavy against your cheek. You look at him as if to say something but when you meet his eyes, you’re speechless. Only a moan comes out and you snap your eyes shut as waves of electricity hit you. You don’t realise your hands are on your breasts.
“Tell me what you want.” He grits against your temple, hot and humid.
You open your mouth but you can only moan while he teases your clit with fleeting strokes.
“Tell me,” John slides your knickers to the side, eyes down at your glistening sex, “what you want, love.”
You arch your back and turn your face away from him, shy and overwhelmed. You really were in charge of the pace.
“I want you inside me.” Your voice muffled by the back of your hand.
His thick fingers followed the curve of your mound and down to the dip of your entrance. Slick with your juices, it doesn’t take much for his index and middle fingers to push through. John’s cock twitches at the sensation of your tight, hot cunt. You hear him take a sharp inhale.
“Tha’s it.” He begins pumping and you’re embarrassed to already feel an orgasm building. God he’s good at this you manage to think. His fingers curl up to your g-spot and you start to see specks of light behind your closed eyelids. John revels in the sounds of your wet pussy around his fingers and your moans. He adjusts himself, mindful of the undeniable tent in his boxers.
“John I’m- I’m- gonna!” You pant in time with his pumps. You can see his massive forearm and bicep moving between your smaller by comparison legs, his once parted hair now messy and his dark gaze on you - you’re pretty sure that’s why you came so suddenly.
“Oh god fuck!” You call out, the orgasm pulsing through you violently. Your stomach involuntarily convulses and you writhe, one hand knotted in the duvet and the other one clutching his free arm. John watches as you ride out the orgasm, the broken pants and small whines short circuit his brain.
“Fucking hell.” He breathes. You look up at him, neatly groomed beard, a strong dimpled chin and a smirk that could kill. He’s stroking his hand over your thigh and up to your stomach, his eyes are hooded.
“I’m not on birth control,” you say with a parched mouth. You roll over to a drawer and pull out protection. You tear one from the packet, you know it can be a deal breaker for men but it sorted the riff from the raff.
“I had no idea you wanted to have sex.” He says dryly, a prominent bulge in his boxers. You chuckle and slap him playfully in the chest, leaving the packet against him.
You trail your hand down his chest.
“It’s all yours.” He muttered as you pushed past his waistband to find his heavy cock. He breathed out with a guttural groan, calling you darling. You bite your lip and ignore the redness in your face, he’s well endowed and you’re almost afraid to see it. You remove your hands and pull at his waistband so his reddened cock springs out.
“Of course it’s huge.” You mewl, pulling back on his foreskin gently to reveal a pretty pink and leaking tip. John tenses at your needy touch, restraining himself.
You slink to the floor and manoeuvre yourself between his legs. John's heavy breathing fills the room. You reach behind your back and unhook your bra. You shuffle closer and the tip of John’s cock smears precum on your breast.
“Oh love, you already said thanks,” he laughs, bucking his hips so his cock is nestled in your cleavage. You press your breasts together around his manhood and bounce on your haunches. The Captain grunts, his hands pushing your hair out of your face. You stare at his engorged cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.
Soon he gently pulls you toward him and peels your knickers off. He makes quick work of putting on the condom, you like that he does it in front of you.
“Let me take care of you now.” You climb onto him and rub your slit along his cock, coating it with your wetness.
“You’re perfect.” He groans in response, fingers digging into your hips. You grind faster and faster, moaning with abandon.
“Are you always such a gentleman?” You stutter, rolling your hips, your hands splayed across his muscled chest, your cunt quivering around nothing.
He laughs and flips you over, his arms on either side of you. You giggle in surprise and then choke out a groan when he pushes his cock against your core.
“Please fuck me” is all it takes for his resolve to crumble, on top of your supine and smooth body, smelling like flowers and white musk. You moan in unison when he pushes his tip against your core, his hips shifting closer and closer. Your pussy clenches around his girth.
“Oh god - is it all in?” You stutter, blood rushing to your face, your cunt pulsing at his sheer size.
“Just half way, love.” You hear the smirk. “I’ll slow down.” He pushes himself deeper tantalisingly slowly. You pant when his hips are flush with yours, eyes fluttering. You wonder how you looked stretched around him.
“You alright?” He checks.
When you nod, John sets a steady pace, pulling mostly out and then plunging back into your heat, down to the hilt.
“Oh god,” you shudder, hands gripping his shoulders. His stomach connects flatly with your clit.
“You like that?” His voice distorted with the movement.
“Yes! Yes!” He speeds up and your world is a flurry of motion. His thrusts are fast and sharp and they push you into the mattress.
You feebly try to bring your legs up onto his shoulders.
“Deeper?” He snarls, his day couldn’t get better. He easily swings your legs onto his shoulders, the backs of your knees wet with sweat against his chest. You’re folded into a mating press and speared by his cock. The friction melts you, you’re surrounded by his mass, his scent, his strength.
You thank the stars for his training because his stamina is unwavering. The bed frame creaking, mattress thumping and lewd noises from your wet cunt hits his ears, he’s not going to let this be a 1 and done.
“I think I’m gonna-”
“Do it darlin’, cum on my cock.”
“No no - I think I’m gonna wet myself.” You shudder, a palm to his chest.
“You won’t, trust me.” He grits out while maintaining fevered eye contact, “let go.”
And with that, your orgasm tears through you and you cover both your nethers in liquid.
“Oh f-uck!” You writhe and roll your hips, John slows down to languid thrusts, whispering into your ear “tha’s it, good girl.” The aftershocks spasm through your body, your toes tingle and you babble incoherently, having never squirted before.
“Mmm, y/n,” the Captain hovers over you and looks from eye to eye. He unsheathes himself from you which is met with a whine from your parted lips. He plunges himself back in. You’re wide eyed and breathless at the motion.
“Yes John!” Your nails dig into his shoulders and your calves and feet flop uselessly over his back as he thrusts quickly and deeply, slamming into your sex.
Soon his hands are under your knees and you're folded further, the angle causing him to connect with your tender spot. You feel a fizzle build in your stomach again.
With unnatural speed and precision, John gets you on the precipice again. You begin to feel him quiver, his muscles coiled and tense as he pistons in and out of you. One of his hands squeezes your right breast and the other is on the mattress.
“Please Captain, please,” you coo, trying his rank on for size with a broken moan. With that, John erupts inside you with a violent shudder, his member pulsing stripes of white hot seed. His orgasm is sharp and absolute.
“Ah love, fuck,” He grunts, his thrusts turning sloppy and his grip loosening on your tender breast. “You’re something else.” He barely manages to grit out. You stay entwined for a few moments, savouring the afterglow between kisses.
“Let me clean this up.” He climbs off of you, a finger trailing down your left breast. You’re too fucked-out to respond.
“To the- to the um left.” You call out to him but he’s already found your bathroom. He catches his reflection in the mirror, his sweaty and hairy chest heaving, face flushed red, hair falling onto his forehead, his softening cock hangs between his sweaty heavy thighs, with a full condom.
He swings by the kitchen for two glasses of water, still naked. He likes how your face softens when he passes you a glass, he doesn’t know if he’s flattered that you only looked at his eyes when he appeared.
He joins you in bed, both of you gulping water.
“Tell me,” your voice is hoarse, you add a pause, “what you want.”
John peers at you as if you’ve grown another head. Then a suppressed smile grows across his face as he realises. You are secretly proud of how you copied his accent.
There’s a pause and you patiently give him some grace, he drains the glass and places it on the bed side table.
Finally he turns to face you with softness in his eyes and says, “you. Asleep on my chest, love.”
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I’ve been bursting with grief and hurt and dread this week and that’s not even really related to Holy Week yet. I’m still recovering from how emotionally harrowing the weekend was, there’s been a lot going on between my wife and I this week and I cried so much about it today that my eyes feel like they’re burning, and I’m trying so hard to manage my distress about going back to work on Monday.
I’m scared that forest parts will keep us awake all week leading up to Easter. Sleeping last night was very hard. The thought of starting work sleep deprived makes me feel so panicked. I just feel so lost and lonely. So so so lonely. E didn’t really help today and she actually made things worse at the end with a comment that hurt my feelings so badly. She didn’t intend to of course but it’s making me feel so sad and hurt.
And I’m so overwhelmed too. I’m in that place where talking to people feels so overstimulating. All I want to do is read and play stardew because it doesn’t require anything of me. I don’t have to give anything back when I have nothing to give. It feels scary to be in this headspace when work is looming. I can’t hide from my coworkers and meetings and responsibilities even if I’m feeling this way. And god it’s not even Maundy Thursday yet?? What am I gonna do. 😭
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ryulvrs · 3 days
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Idk how to request os it doesn't sound rude😭 (i'm sorry) but can you do miyeon g!p x fem!reader (like jealous miyeon bc reader was flirting with yuqi and talking dirty with minnie, then miyeon heard and just putted her in her place iygwim) if you don't wanna do this just ignore it please
just mine (miyeon, smut)
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summary: miyeon takes your flirtatious jokes with her friends seriously and puts you in your place
warnings: dom!gp!miyeon, sub!f!reader, praise, breeding kink, jealousy, degradation, mirror sex, slight choking kink, a lot of dirty talk
word count: 1.3k
a/n: not much to say, just a lot of filthy miyeon 😭
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“you did well today,” your lips temptingly released, with the lipgloss sticking them together.
“hm? with the stage?” yuqi turned her head at you, and almost instantaneously her air felt heated and her breath hitched. you nod, awaiting her response.
“thank you, y/n,” she smirked with just the corners of her lips.
“no need,” you conciously moved your hand to rest on her shoulder for just enough time that she’d think about it. long enough that she’d think about you.
“is miyeon still here?” she asks you, and you both can guess why.
“shes in the next room, are you going home soon?” this is true, miyeon is in the next room. actually, in the next room with the door open giving her a loud and clear audio of everything happening.
“who knows, you could come,” she smirks but laughs it off. as you open your mouth to respond, your head follows minnie who just came out of another connecting entrance.
“hi y/n,” she says, smiling all cutesy.
“hii minnie,” your voice does that thing where it lingers for an unnecessary amount of time. you look her up and down, noticing her obvious pulchritude immediately.
she chuckles, noticing your silence. “cat got your tongue?” she teases. your initial instinct is to make some corny joke about her tongue but you resist in attempt to look cool.
its obvious to everyone in the room that theres some sort of tension, even if its awkward and slightly cliche at times.
“you both look too good, if miyeon wasn’t a room over who knows what i’d be doing right now,” you remark with a devilish smile plastered on your face. you earn a laugh out of them both, but you can tell they undoubtedly agree.
“probably us,” yuqi says under her breath, but you catch it and just giggle. the laughs wouldn’t last much longer although, because the feeling of an unrecognized hand inching onto your waist shuts you up quickly.
your body jinks, to be met by your girlfriend’s uptight stature. “hey miyeon! ready to-“ she cuts you off my taking your hand and urging you to the car.
no words left her mouth the entire car ride, just silence between the both of you. you know what you did though, you were fully aware she would hear all of it too. even better, you loved how jealous she got.
it felt as if your arm was going to fall off when she forcefully dragged you into your shared apartment. she locked eyes with you, with her aggressive yet charming demeanor taking over her completely.
“anything to say?” she spits. there is nothing to say, you just flirted with her friends and did it to make her jealous, because shes beyond hot like this. so, you just shake your head.
“do you want to fuck them, y/n?” she outright states. obviously, taken aback, you stutter over yourself at the claim made.
“what- what the fuck miyeon?” you can’t help but slightly shout at her, even if you know theres reason behind her anger. she scoffs and laughs to control the situation. “i wasn’t actually flirting, baby, i thought you could tell that?” you say.
“oh yeah?” she looks down but she was still very upset.
“yes,” you practically beg. she steps a bit closer to you, but her face doesnt change or drop.
“you’re such a slut, y/n,” she looks you up and down, finally focusing her eyes on yours with her head tilted a little. you wince a little, in pain from biting down on your tongue.
she places her hands on the back of your head, rubbing on your hair adding to the tension between you. her lips pressed just on the edges of yours. you lean, falling deeper into the temptation. her tongue sliding just enough out that you would feel it.
“you’re mine, okay?” she pulls away. “im gonna make you feel it.” her kiss travels you both into a utopia even if you could feel her anger traveling through her bites.
her arms moving from your head to your hands, pulling you whilst holding the kiss into your room. the romantic gestures don’t last long however, as she practically throws you onto the bed.
“strip for me,” she hisses. you do as she asks, and reveal your curved body to her. she undos her clothes along with you, and lets only a second pass before pouncing onto you.
“im gonna fuck you better than they ever could” she grunts. she slaps her cock against the folds of your entrance, exposed to her touch and the air.
you feel her hands spread your legs just a bit farther apart, enough for her to pound into you. the tip of it pushes your edges, coating itself in your liquids.
“so wet? aren’t you easy,” she smirks at you pushing into your pussy. with a wicked grin, she leans forward rubbing your bodies together. her free hand flicks at your cunt putting your wetness on the head of her dick.
youre core cries out for her touch, and she thrusts her length in to please you. you grip onto her, almost as if you’re pulling her in from desperation.
“you’re going to take it, princess, ‘kay?” with a firm hand, she moves your face up to look at her, like shes trying to ingrain her words into you. “come on, tell me,” her grasp on your chin drags lower, as she tightens it around your neck.
“i promise, i’ll take it,” you squeeze your eyes shut and your lower body quivers, dragging her in farther. “please,” you whisper, digging your nails farther into her back.
she writes her smirk into her hip movement, and she rams her dick into you. this time, she moves in and out of you at a consistent pace.
every hit on your pussy leads your cum to squirt out. she quickens her pace, noticing this, and dips her finger into your sweet nectar, licking it off.
“what a pretty pussy, im gonna breed you y/n,” she sucks the end of her fingers before slapping them gently on your clit, pushing them in the little space next to her cock.
“take it, suck me in, pretty girl,” her praise causes you to moan loudly, unlike anything miyeon has heard from you before.
this only makes her needier to cum inside of you, so she takes your hips and steadies you, and picks you up to have you facing the mirror beside your bed. your ass towards her, and her cock still pushing into you, as you both look at your body in the mirror.
“see, you are so slutty, look at you,” she pounds into you with her fingertips roaming your legs and hips. “i’ll breed your pussy so you really know you’re mine,” she moans into your ear.
miyeon leans back, making you do all the work of riding her length. the sound of skin clapping against each other, bouncing on her, liquids meshing and moans filling the room.
“my good girl,” she grunts into your ear, stabilizing your body once more.
“n-need your cum,” you moan for her. she smirks and you can feel the increasing heat down your neck.
both of your bodies tense up, and the movements become more erratic. you breathing hitches, and miyeon swallows down groans. the sensation between you two is intense and overwhelming yet a type of pleasure only she could make you feel.
her liquids spill into you, making you truly hers. “mmm so good,” she sighs, pulling out of you gently treating your body as her temple. her lips make their way down your neck and back lovingly, as a way of showing gratitude.
“im yours, miyeon, i promise,” you turn around to her, and lay one more kiss for her, and she returns it with a smile.
“just mine.”
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rileyslibrary · 50 minutes
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Hi, this might be a strange request, but could you please do some sort of character analysis, or maybe tell some of your headcanons for the 141 characters??
I’ve been trying to find some, but everything I find is either weirdly out of character or just some sort of weird projection onto the characters 😭
Not strange at all, anon! It just occurred to me that, for a blog dedicated to Ghost, I’ve never done something like this. Also, I understand what you mean, but it’s also important to remember that headcanons are extremely subjective. Maybe the same applies to my case, and someone also finds my headcanons out of character; who knows?
Please note that I can’t say much about the other boys since I’ve only focused on Ghost, so here are some of my headcanons (i.e. that’s how I personally imagine Ghost):
He’s your average, ordinary guy on the outside. Sure, he is stereotypically attractive (tall, beefy, with a deep voice), but so are a billion other people in this world. There’s nothing extraordinary about him, which is precisely what makes him so intriguing.
I like to imagine his personality similarly to how he wears his uniform—layer, under layer, under layer. You want to peel him like an onion; uncover what lies beneath the surface.
He’s extremely pragmatic and values function over form. It doesn’t matter if something looks bad/ugly/weird as long as it gets the job done. If it works, it works.
Moderation gives him a sense of discipline. He wants to control everything that’s within his ability to do so—managing what food he puts in his body, regulating his alcohol intake, handling finances, and even carefully choosing his words. It helps him maintain his sanity, knowing he has control over his life, especially considering what he went through.
He’s also incredibly efficient. He doesn’t waste time on things that aren’t important or beyond his control.
He’s not a gym rat (he doesn’t regard it as a second home), but he’s definitely a regular. The gym owners are familiar with him, though their interactions are brief—maybe they exchanged a few words to renew his membership in the past, but that’s about it.
He tends to stick to the free-weight section at the gym. If it’s crowded, he’ll put on his headphones to tune everything out, but if it’s quiet, he doesn’t bother. While he doesn’t use the machines often, he’ll turn to them occasionally, particularly when he needs more controlled movement.
Warming up before exercising is particularly important to him, and he takes his time to stretch afterwards, usually in an isolated corner of the gym. He never skips leg day.
He is not a flirt. Usually, it’s others who pursue him rather than the other way around. It’s almost like he has it too easy in that department. He doesn’t have to make much effort—he simply goes about his business (occasionally checking his surroundings for potential dangers,) and suddenly, people gravitate towards him. He’s not a fan of this attention but keeps it to himself.
He engages in a flirtatious exchange almost every day with the elderly lady who manages the convenience store in his neighbourhood, though. He often compliments her on her hair and how young she looks and sometimes jokes that if her late husband were still around, he’d have some competition. She, in return, offers him freebies, which he politely declines. However, he sometimes accepts these gestures in exchange for lending a hand with tasks around the store.
His apartment is modest since he travels a lot, yet he considers it his personal haven when he returns to it. He deliberately keeps it free of any traces of his alternate identity. There’s a family photo framed somewhere. Even his dad included. Maybe he considered cutting him out of the picture but decided against it. He wants to be reminded of both the positive and negative experiences that influence his decisions and actions.
He likes to make his own jokes. They mostly come to him when he does something mundane, like cooking, showering, or watching TV. He doesn’t take offence if others don’t laugh at his jokes, though. He simply views them as idiots or lacking a sense of humour.
He opts for public transport only when needed, like during heavy traffic, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He keeps his back against the wall and doesn’t wear headphones since he wants to be aware of his surroundings.
He breaks fights if he stumbles upon them late at night and calls the police. When the officers arrive, he is the first to talk to them and usually scolds them for not getting there faster.
I don’t think he wears his mask when he’s out and about. In my mind, Simon Riley is different from Ghost. If someone manages to connect the dots, he’ll make sure it’s the last time they do so. For him, good people don’t know who Ghost is. Only bad people do.
He wants to extend his sleeve tattoo further up his arm but struggles to find the time to schedule an appointment with his tattoo artist. Yes, he has a trusted tattoo artist.
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wackybuddiemewbs · 19 hours
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Still not done. For reasons. Wacky brian go brrrrr. Happy new season, peeps!
This Future We Choose
Part 3/???
Part 1 • Part 2
Buck knew this was going to bite him in the ass eventually. He just had hoped it would be a while longer until he’d have to face the consequences for his actions. He will blame his stupidly bruised ribs for it, but of course his research material had to slide out of his folder and sail to the ground, just as he was about to show his sister the seating table he’d prepared for the wedding.
And of course, Maddie instantly recognized what those papers were, picked them up before he could bend down himself, and gave him that look.
While everyone knows by now that him and Natalia are no longer a thing, this was the thing he’d meant to keep between himself and Eddie a while longer. But fortune continues to be anywhere but on his side.
So his time is up, as his sister’s stern look at him will tell him with utmost surety.
“What are these?” Maddie asks.
“Research?” Buck answers, tight-lipped.
“Why are you researching that?”
“Coz I wanted to?”
Maddie rolls her eyes at him. “Evan.”
“Well, what do you think?” he grumbles.
“So you… seriously consider adoption? Or fostering a child?” she asks, her tone shifting to something more serious and thus something Buck knows he will find impossible to escape from.
Buck can feel his jaw tensing up. “That’s what started it, yeah.”
It started out feeling great, actually. Buck felt the usual excitement he has bubbling up in his stomach when he finds a new field of interest and learns all about it. It felt like it was all coming together, like he was coming back together, like he was heading in all the right directions at long last.
But it doesn’t matter how you start the journey, it matters how you end it.
And Buck got the sinking feeling a while ago that this journey ended before it ever truly began.
“I had… no clue, to be honest. That this is something you were considering now. I mean, I always knew you wanted kids, but… this is much more concrete than just a general wish to want children further down the road,” Maddie mutters pensively, her eyes drifting back to the brochures.
Buck rolls his shoulders. “Well, I guess actually dying sheds some light on how short life is.”
Maddie shoots him a stern look yet again, the kind of look that makes him cringe the same way it did when he was still a kid. Buck knows he shouldn’t be joking about it as much as he still does, especially with Maddie present. But sometimes, he can’t help himself. Not because he thinks death is funny, that his death was. But, as of late, he starts to think that his death was indeed some kind of cosmic joke at his expenses.
So why shouldn’t I laugh it up, at least?
“A lot’s happened this year that made me look at what I really want in life,” Buck chooses to say instead. “And… and one thing I can say for sure is that I want to become a father.”
Maddie touches his forearm lightly. “That’s great. It really is. And I’m not… I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“I get that. I was surprised, too,” Buck replies.
“But… why would you keep this from us, from me? This is great news!”
Buck makes a face. “Because it’s weird?”
Because it’s futile?
“You wanting kids is not weird at all. Honestly, I’m still surprised you don’t have one already. You always loved kids, so much. And you’re great with them. I mean, just look at Jee doting on you. And you sure came around a lot, so I wondered that you didn’t…,” Maddie says, her voice trailing off.
Buck nudges her lightly. “Hey, I got the talk early on in my life. And I was taught very emphatically to always use protection, always.”
“Don’t remind me,” she grunts. “Because I was the one who had to give the talk to you.”
“I appreciated the diagrams and the flash cards. Has me very sure you’re gonna put out the greatest PowerPoint presentation ever for Jee, once it’s time to talk about the birds and the bees,” Buck laughs.
“So, there’s nothing weird at all about you wanting kids. I find it weird that you’ve been keeping this to yourself for so long, though. I mean, judging by the dates on some of the printouts, you’ve been doing research for a few weeks, at least,” Maddie says, gesturing at the apparent evidence of his own failures.
“Well, once it dawned on me that this is what I wanted, I guess I just wanted to get a better understanding of what’s involved in the process before announcing my intentions,” Buck explains. Which is true enough. He figured that research would make it less scary, less daunting. While Buck is considered to be somewhat the “daredevil” on the job, he can’t say the same is true when it comes to those private matters. That’s why he actually went through the hassle to print things out, to have physical proof, to make this just a bit more real.
But in the end, none of it worked.
In the end, it’s all just fantasy and make-believe.
“But why not talk to me?” He can hear the pain there, which Buck probably should have anticipated.
“I wasn’t trying to keep this from you,” he tells her in all earnest. Sure, Buck didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t want to leave Maddie out of the picture in particular.
I just wanted to have something to show for it. And look at me now, winding up empty-handed yet again.
“But you did not want to tell me, even though you’re sure that this is what you want,” she argues. “I just want to understand why.”
“I… I don’t know. I felt like I needed more information before saying anything, to anyone. I just started out with the premise that I wanted to be a father, really. But how? That was a big question mark for me. It still is. So I figured that I’d want to know what to announce at least, like… I wanna foster, I wanna adopt…”
She shakes her head slowly. “That’s not why you wouldn’t say anything, though.”
And of course she is right, of course Maddie sees through it. She’s been trained at reading him since they were children. Maddie raised him, so she sees the things that Buck is always busy to hide. And while it still saddens him that his big sister had to shoulder that responsibility, Buck knows that she will keep watching out for him the same way he looks out for her.
Us against the rest of the world, right?
“If you know the answer already, then why do you keep asking?” Buck doesn’t meet her gaze, he can’t.
“Because I’d rather hear it from you,” Maddie answers.
He sighs. “Honestly? I feel like it’s a good thing I didn’t announce anything, because I feel like this isn’t going anywhere.”
Maddie blinks at him. “So you don’t want to… be a father anymore?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then why doesn’t it go anywhere?” She frowns.
Buck did, too, frown a lot, at himself. He frowned at the reflection in the bathroom mirror, his faint outline on the computer screen. He frowned at his own thoughts, and his own feelings. Because they didn’t make sense anymore. Whatever he thought he had figured out about himself, it did not fit together. Like he found some puzzle pieces, but they come from different sets.
“Because the more I look at those brochures and papers, the more I realize that this isn’t… that’s not me,” Buck admits.
“Well, there’s other options.”
“I know.”
He researched, he looked, he tried to find something different. Only to come back to the same spot over and over again. To be stuck, all over again.
Because fortune is not my friend. Because I seemingly have to keep living in waiting mode.
“But?”
“But I don’t want any of those options,” Buck says.
“So you want to be a father… but you don’t want to go for any of the options that’d make you a father?” Maddie asks, looking rightfully confused.
And if you put it like that, it really makes absolutely no sense at all. Which seems oddly fitting. Because Buck has a tendency to want the things he knows for a fact he can’t have. His parents’ love, for who he is, and not just for who he can be to other people. The feeling of being enough, of no longer needing any software updates. A world where he’s enough to protect the people he loves from all harm there is.
And someone to love me anyway.
“I didn’t pretend like this was making any sense, so I won’t start now,” Buck grumbles. He fixes his gaze on Maddie, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Can we just pretend like this never happened?”
He is really good at that, for better or worse.
“No,” is the definitive answer from his big sister, which he knew would come.
“Pretty please with sprinkles on top?” he bargains anyway.
“Evan.”
Buck knows that when Maddie uses that tone of voice when saying his name, there is really no escape anymore. Because Maddie is one of the few people who can actually speak to Evan. The vulnerable kid who only ever cried wolf to be loved by the people who refused to see him. The kid that was willing to bleed out for just one concerned look from his mother and father.
Buck keeps Evan deep inside his chest, for precisely that reason. Because he is that fragile, that broken, inside and out. Buck is stronger than that. He has grown. He has matured. He built up enough scar tissue and callouses. His bones broke often enough, and grew together strong, so he can catch himself if he falls. And he found other people to look at him a different way, to help him back to his feet.
Perhaps foolishly, Buck still tries to protect Evan as much as he can from the outside world. Because Evan doesn’t know how to seem fine. Evan only knows how to get hurt to be seen. Evan knows how to bleed, but not how to stop the bleeding. Buck knows how to become good at bearing the pain without anyone seeing. So not to become a burden.
But he knows he can’t fool Maddie. Because she knows Evan as well as Buck. She loves them both. And she will always manage to lure Evan out of the box deep inside Buck’s chest, the way she’s always managed since they were kids. But once he is outside, Buck knows he can’t shield him, and he can’t keep him from showing all the places he aches that’d Maddie mean to kiss better.
“You want to be a father, but you don’t want to go with any of the options that might make that wish come true,” Maddie tells him. “And you can’t even look me in the eye, saying it. Why?”
Buck’s eyes drift back to the brochures and printouts still on the floor, the ones in her hand, and he can feel his chest tighten to the point that it gets hard to breathe. And it’s not because of the bruised ribs. It’s because Evan long since crawled his way out, begging to be loved anyway. And Buck can’t tell him to go back and keep waiting.
Because the time won’t come.
Because the more he looks at those brochures, the more he is reminded of the reason why he can’t get there after all. Why his hopes are yet again in vain.
“Because the more research I do, the more I realize that I don’t want any of that. Not like this, at least,” he admits at last.
It’s no use anyway.
And he can bear that pain. He will have to, for Evan and himself.
“I… still don’t understand what you mean by that,” Maddie answers faintly.
“I don’t either! I thought I finally figured it out. The great epiphany! That I wanna be a father, more than anything. And that’s still true. It’s so damn true it hurts. I want to be a father, so bad. I want a child that’s mine and that I don’t have to give to anyone else.”
Tears sting in Buck’s eyes, though that’s just about the smallest pain he feels. Even his stupid ribs don’t hurt as much as this. And it just isn’t fair. To finally know what you want, only to realize that you can’t have that. Because being aimless is one thing, but knowing you won’t ever come to the shores you call home? That’s damn well a curse.
Maddie moves into his line of vision. She places a warm hand on his back, extends her other hand to squeeze his forearm.
“Hey, hey. It’s alright,” she soothes.
“It’s actually not.”
It hasn’t been in a long time, but the fool he is, he failed to see it. Because he wanted to seem fine, because he wanted to be fine again. For everyone else and himself. So Evan would remain where he put him, protected, so Buck could get back to his feet and find a way to move forward again. To maybe find a life where Evan could come out and not bleed out from a lack of love.
“Why not? I can only repeat it, there’s plenty of options to fulfill your dream,” Maddie tries to reassure him.
“There really isn’t. And that’s what makes this so damn stupid.” Tears now roll freely down his cheeks. Buck wipes at them angrily, relishes the small burn that comes with rubbing skin against skin.
“Why?”
“Because I know I want to be a father, but I… I want to be a father to a child I know I can’t be a father to,” Buck whimpers, almost choking on those truths that should have no business burning so much down his throat.
“You mean Connor’s and Kameron’s…,” Maddie mutters, but Buck interjects rather harshly, “No.”
Oh, and how he wished that was true. Because that would be easy. Anyone would understand, everyone assumes anyway. Buck wished it was that easy, but this situation only made him realize what he wanted, and just like he had to give over that child, he had to realize that he couldn’t ever get to where he wants to be.
“What child, then, if not their son?”
“Eddie’s son. Christopher.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose.
Biggest fuckin’ joke of my life.
“Christopher.”
“Yeah,” Buck croaks.
Christopher, always Christopher. In every brochure, every stock image, he saw that little guy with his dorky smile and glasses, heard his giggling, felt the way only that little guy could hug him. The boy he thought he had to give up on, knows he has to learn to let go, to be what he wants to be: A father.
Buck swallows thickly. “You know, I’ve tried to put some distance between us, lately. Between Eddie, Chris, and I. To, to figure this father thing out. Because I felt like I was… like I was using them, to have the second-best thing to being a father. But I… I miss them so damn much.”
Maddie keeps rubbing circles on his back, just as she’d done when they were both still kids and he could not be consoled after their parents looked right through him yet again.
“I… I keep seeing Christopher every time I turn the page in one of those stupid brochures. I don’t just want to have a kid that’s mine. I want that one specific kid to be mine. Even though I know he ain’t, even though I know he won’t ever be,” Buck cries, no longer able to hold it in, to contain it.
The love he can’t express, he pours it right out, like bad blood, but it just keeps on coming and coming and coming.
He might be what Eddie would want for his son, should something happen to him, but Buck isn’t that outside that scenario. So long there’s Eddie, and God knows he will make sure of it, he won’t be that for Christopher. He can’t be that for Christopher.
In the end, always the backup plan, isn’t it?
“Christopher loves you,” Maddie argues.
“But not as his dad, never as that. Because I’m not his father. Even in the event that something should happen to Eddie, and I’d take care of him… he wouldn’t be mine, not really. Inside my heart, yes, but… never outside it.”
Bobby once told Chimney that having a child is like having a heart outside of yourself. But Buck know he can’t have that, that he won’t ever get there. He can only treasure that child inside his heart, so no one can see just how much he loves that kid. Because the love he feels for him, he knows he is not entitled to.
I won’t ever be enough to them to be entitled to it. Because that isn’t my place. Not really. More than a guest, but only ever temporary. Never forever.
“Eddie would let me, that’s not the thing. But… but I can’t go on pretending, in my heart, that… that we are a family, in that sense,” Buck whimpers.
“Eddie considers you family.”
“Yeah, but not in the way I’d want him to consider me.”
Which is the icing on top of that shit sundae.
“What?”
“Forget it,” Buck replies quickly.
Because he doesn’t know how much more he can take. Because everything hurts, hurts more than his stupid ribs, more than his stinging eyes, or his inflamed cheeks. And Buck doesn’t want any more pain. He doesn’t want any more pain for Evan who is outside his little box right now, for that part of him to come to the realization that there is yet another thing they failed at.
“No, tell me, please,” Maddie begs. “I want to help.”
“I just know that this is nothing you can help me with,” Buck whispers. “Even though you’re my big sister and I grew up thinking you’re my personal superhero. But this… you can’t fix. And I think I can’t either.”
Maddie takes a deep breath, considers his words, then searches his eyes again. “Alright, then maybe I can’t fix this. But I… I know for a fact that not talking about things that hurt us, scare us, terrify us… those darkest spots in our lives… that’s even worse. And I won’t have my little brother repeat the mistakes I’ve made.”
“You didn’t…”
“It doesn’t matter,” she interjects sternly. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want you to keep pretending like all is fine. Like you have to keep something from me, or anyone else. You can always tell me these things. Always. Even if you may actually want to say them to someone else, you can always say them to me first. I don’t pretend to have the answers, but I can listen. And I always will, Evan. But I need to hear it from you.”
Buck looks at his sister for a long moment. He thinks about how far she’s come, how much she’s overcome. And how glad he is that she finally gets some of the pay off for the years of sacrifice. In the end, Maddie is still his personal superhero, not because she is invincible, but because she wears her scars and comes out stronger every time. Because like him, she never gives up, or even if she almost did, she fought her way back.
He takes a deep breath, then another. Maddie is right, he should say those things to someone else. But the person he’d normally go to for this? He can’t say. Buck screws his eyes shut, trying to forget all that, if only for a moment.
“Losing something can sure make you realize how much you loved it, even if you knew you loved it all along. I remember reading that, when I was still recuperating after the lightning strike.”
Buck read a lot, while at the hospital. Not just self-help books. When he stumbled over that quote, he had some sense of how that rang true for him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, not really. Then his life took one sharp turn after the other, with Kameron and Connor and the baby, with Natalia.
The book fell back into his hands when she got the last of her things. And when he flipped to that page, it felt like lighting was striking through him again. Because he was right back in his coma dream, and it was glaring at him, laughing at him.
Who wasn’t there? Who was the one person who’s so close to you you didn’t see? Who, hm?
“I’m not following,” Maddie mutters, blinking at him.
“The more distance I put myself between myself and Eddie and Christopher, the more I realized just how alone I feel when I don’t have them near me,” Buck says.
“As I said, they love you, too.”
“And I love them, God, I love them. But I can’t love them like I wanna love them. And that fuckin’ hurts.”
Buck loved before. He knows what heartbreak feels like. But he never loved like this, and at some point, he wished he never found out that he could love like this. Because it’s a kind of love that burns even worse than the one he still feels for his parents. Even though they can’t love him back. Even though they made him walk through fire every day of his life. Because it’s the kind of fire he will keep walking into, against better judgment. Because he could learn to live without his parents, but he can’t learn to be without them.
“I can’t love Christopher like a father. And I can’t love Eddie like a partner. I can’t love them as my family I go home to every single night. I can’t love them like I do, and it sucks, and it hurts, and I just want it to stop.”
“P, partner?” Maddie stammers, still taking that in.
“Yeah, that’s about the face I made when it dawned on me,” Buck huffs bitterly. “I mean, in true Buck fashion, I kept missing all the signs. It’s always been there, and I… not even all of those epiphanies I feel I had in my coma dream prepared me for that one. Eddie wasn’t in it, in that dream, not really. Though that’s probably the great message, and I waltzed right past it.”
That his heart wasn’t in it, literally. That his heart wasn’t in that supposedly perfect life. The man who let him into his own, wasn’t there. The man who’d given his heart over to him, telling him that he is not expendable. The world that was without Eddie was the one without Christopher. And that world may have had his parents loving him in it, may have had Daniel alive, but it didn’t have them. And how can such a world ever be any good?
Buck has been wrecking his brain about it. Ever since he broke up with Natalia, he felt like he was finally gaining perspective. Only for the light to switch and put Eddie and Christopher in the spotlight. At first, he liked to think that they were simply his measure to go by. Because Buck wants to be a dad like Eddie, loving, caring, kind. And he wants a kid just like Christopher. So that seemed straightforward enough. Until it became even more twisted. Because the harder he looked, the more he realized they weren’t just the model Buck was going by, they were it. Both of them. Not just Christopher. But Eddie.
Always Eddie.
Buck can’t say he thought about Eddie as someone he wanted to be with, romantically. Sure, an attractive guy, always. Someone Buck could unashamedly say he learned to love dearly. But he can’t say he longed for him the way he is doing it now. Or rather, he now sees all of those signs he missed, all the chances he missed. The things he didn’t see, because he looked at Eddie through the lens of friendship, of what it was, and not what it could be. Because Buck didn’t even dare to think outside that box. Despite his bravado, he was not brave enough. He liked not being a guest in Eddie’s house. And he was fine with that, just that.
I never thought I could be more than that.
But Buck grew, and he’s coming to terms with it that he gets to want more, be more. He took a step back and saw more than he used to. But once you start to think outside the box, you can’t go back to its confined space. You can’t go back to only just. Once you open your heart to wanting more, it won’t be satisfied with the lesser.
How can I be enough, if I am not enough to have them?
So now, he’s left with longing and missing again. He wants the things he can’t have. And Buck won’t jeopardize the happiness either Eddie or Christopher or Marisol have found together. He won’t be that person. He can’t sink that low. Even if that means he is back to greedily stuffing the crumbs of life with Eddie and Christopher into his mouth, like a guy who’s been left out in the desert for weeks without a single thing to eat.
So maybe he’s good enough for Eddie and Christopher, to be a part of their family. But he won’t be that part of the family. Maybe Marisol will fill that seat. Maybe it’s going to be someone who’s not even in Eddie’s life yet. But no matter what, this person won’t be him.
So what is he even doing, researching ways to have a child, to be a father? How could it be fair to that child? When, in the back of his head, he’d always wind a string around the mere image of Eddie and Christopher as part of the family he might build?
“I’m still wrapping my head around you being into guys. But then again, I never tried too hard to look at that as your sister,” Maddie says, shaking her head wide-eyed.
“I never dated guys, I just got down dirty with them.” Buck shrugs.
He never made it a secret, but he didn’t make it explicit either.
Except for when I told them about my track record in dating yoga instructors. Because those definitely weren’t all ladies…
Buck never had a serious relationship with guys. He just fooled around with them. And especially in the beginning, it may well be that he liked things a bit too rough. Which should show that he belonged in therapy since a young age, because no, that was surely not healthy at all.
“Yeah, no, I don’t need to know that. At all. Ever.” Maddie screws her eyes shut.
“I figured.”
Buck never cared for a label to put on that, he still doesn’t. Had anyone asked him back in the day, he would have said that he’s simply not picky. Today he can safely say that he is extremely picky, to the point that he reduced his entire happiness to two people, to the point that he can’t look at anyone else the way he looks at Eddie these days.
“Alright, I’m… I’m sorry, that caught me off-guard a bit. But… but in all seriousness now, yes?” Maddie goes on to say.
He blinks at her. “Yeah?”
“There’s nothing wrong with realizing that you love people, or that you’ve fallen in love with someone, even if it’s your best friend,” she tells him.
“But there’s something wrong with wanting to say it, to make them love you back in kind, when you know you really shouldn’t,” Buck argues. “Even if it’s your best friend.”
Or precisely because he is.
“We all just want to be loved in the end. And I know for a fact that you love big. But it’s not wrong to want to be loved back in kind,” Maddie points out.
“It’s wrong to want that, knowing where Eddie stands in life right now. Knowing…” He doesn’t have to finish for Maddie to understand where he is going with this.
“People break up, you know,” she offers, which only ever has him snort. “Like I’m going to hinge my hopes on him breaking up with Marisol.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“The problem is that Eddie loves me, but only as a friend. And even if he broke up with Marisol tomorrow… he won’t ever look at me any other way than that. And I can’t unsee what I’ve seen. I can’t look at him any other way than… this. And… and I feel like I’m losing them because of that. Because if I keep getting too close, I will… I will fuck it up, I know I will. Because I wear my emotions on my sleeve and I… this will come out eventually. And I will make a mess of everything. And I… I can’t do that.”
Fresh tears well up in his eyes.
Sure, he wants more. Sure, he wants to feel like he is enough. He tries to get there. But he knows he can’t have Eddie and Christopher, no matter how hard he tries. Not like this, at least. Because this is not about his worth or lack thereof. It’s just now how they see him. But what he can afford even less than this pain is the thought to lose the ways he has them.
He’d rather be less to them than nothing at all.
“But I also can’t keep away from them,” he continues, almost choking on the words. “I just… I don’t know what to do. I just know it hurts, no matter what I do. And I want it to stop, but it just doesn’t.”
Maddie pulls him into a hug, trying to cover up as much of him as she can, despite their difference in size. Buck sinks against her, tries to soak up her warmth to cast out the cold dread of being back where he began, only to remain stuck there.
Because there is no longer a world for him he can escape to, where he isn’t in love with Eddie, where he doesn’t want Christopher to be his son, where he doesn’t want them to be his family. It vanished, slipped through his fingertips.
“Oh, Evan.”
Buck used to think that Maddie’s hugs would always heal him. He still wants to believe that, but he can’t trust it. Because Evan is out there, and he looks back at him, begging to know why they can’t be loved anyway.
And Buck has no answer to that.
And he fears he never will.
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paper-lilypie · 2 years
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love language
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laurasimonsdaughter · 4 months
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Picture this: Dragons using their caves to age cheese. Dragon Cheesemakers!!
The dragon coiled his enormous body, completely blocking the entrance of the tunnel that lead to the caves.
“No,” he snarled, smoke pluming from his nose.
The cheesemonger pinched the bridge of her own nose. “Look, I explained this to you at the start,” she tried once more. “I make cheese.”
“Yes,” the agreed, nodding his scaly head.
“Then I bring the cheese here.”
“Yes.”
“Then you store all the cheese in your cave, keeping it at the perfect temperature and humidity.”
“Yes.” He sounded particularly proud of this part.
“And then when the cheese has ripened,” she concluded. “I come to pick the cheese up again.”
A thunderous scowl clouded his maw. “No.”
“But that’s how it works!” she cried in exasperation. “I make the cheese, you store the cheese, I sell the cheese, I make more cheese!” She peered up at him. “You do realise I cannot bring you new cheese until I have sold this cheese.”
The dragon considered this for a moment. “Ah, but what if—” he began. “What if you go and make more cheese. And bring me the cheese. And I put it in my cave, with the rest of the hoard. And then I keep it there forever.”
“No,” she said flatly.
It was remarkable how much a dragon could look like it had just swallowed a lemon.
“You can’t keep cheese forever,” she insisted. “It will spoil and go bad!”
“You said it would get better and better!” the dragon roared indignantly. “And I take good care of them! With the air flow and the humidity and the temperature!”
“And that is great,” she said, trying to smile through her frustration. “But when a cheese is ripe, it’s ripe! Then you should not be kept anymore, it should be eaten.”
The dragon scraped it’s formidable claws against the stony ground and sulked.
“Look…” The cheese mongering business did not tend to require a lot of sweet-talking, but she was making an effort. “I’m sure the cheeses that aged in your cave are the best cheeses people have ever tasted. When they find out how delicious they are they will want us to make loads more. Maybe several caves’ worth!”
The reptilian eyes stared at her with disgruntled, reluctant interest. “Several caves?”
“If we’re lucky! And I could make so much cheese that I could bring you new cheese as soon as I pick up the aged cheese. Your cave would never even be empty!”
This seemed to strike a chord. The dragon lifted his head a little.
“And that would really be much better for the rest of your hoard,” she continued with fresh inspiration. “Because if you leave cheese too long, it might go bad and spoil the cheeses next to it too!”
A nervous ripple went through the beast’s scaly body, but he clearly was not convinced just yet. “But what sort of a hoard is it if I have to give it away,” he complained.
“Well! Cheese is not just any old hoard! It’s a developing creation! And you will have a hoard that is constantly developing too. Constantly changing, but, if we do this right, never shrinking.”
The dragon looked at her solemnly, wavering with uncertainty. Perhaps she shouldn’t hold it against the poor thing, it must be a difficult concept to wrap his head around.
“And I will tell you what,” she said encouragingly. “If business is good, I can start investing in some really good crumbly cheeses. You can keep those in your cave for five whole years!”
“That is quite a long time for humans, is it not?” he said, sounding a little more cheerful.
“Very long. Especially when it comes to cheese. Cheeses that have been aged that long are very expensive.”
In retrospect, she should perhaps have led with that. Gourmand or not, a dragon was still a dragon after all. A glittering, toothy grin appeared on her recalcitrant business partner’s shout and he moved just enough for her to move past him into the mountain.
“Tell me more about this expensive cheese that crumbles.”
She hid a smirk. “If you help me carry some of the current ones out, it would be my pleasure.”
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alaboadoa · 8 months
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neuvillette is aware that he shouldn’t have let you get so close. but he did, and now he’s lamenting the fact that your hands are grasping at his soft horns — his fucking horns, of all places — and he might like it.
uptight and strait-laced, you’ve never known the chief justice to be someone so easily flustered. yet here he is with heat crawling up his neck, so warm that you can feel it against your palms as they ghost over his skin.
you can’t help but laugh at his current situation.
he was vehemently against you coming anywhere near his hair at first, grumbling about how his horns were on the sensitive side and he would rather not have to go into work feeling uncomfortably aware of their presence on his head.
however, you were hard to deny with that little smile on your face and such soft hands grabbing at his arms, tugging him closer. a sweet voice chanting, "please, honey? pretty please?"
neuvillette has never been good at denying you what you want.
it’s how he ends up sitting at your shared vanity. you comb through his long hair, watching him with amusement in the mirror as he huffs and jolts with every brush of your fingers against his horns.
the fact that he was letting you get anywhere near them was surely a testament to his trust in you. he was completely vulnerable here, at your mercy.
“sorry,” you mumble disingenuously, clearly enjoying seeing your usually serious husband falling apart with a simple action. you quickly tie off the end of his hair with a bow and he sighs in relief, thinking that the torment is over.
it's far from over.
he draws a sharp breath when you lean forward and press two gentle kisses on him; one on either side of his head just beside his horns.
neuvillette glowers at you in the reflection, disapproval written all over his face. "stop that," he scolds.
you do, but only because you're worried he might melt into a puddle before your very eyes if you continue.
it becomes a daily routine after that, with him sitting patiently in front of the mirror while you brush and tie off his hair. and you always end it the same way: two kisses, a soft "have a good day at work," murmured against him, and a mischievous little smile that makes him sigh.
he responds everyday with the same two words. "stop that," with a narrow-eyed glare.
the day you do stop, he's confused and irritated.
not only because you have the audacity to throw a wrench into routine again, which you know he hates, but also because he can't figure out why he misses your lips so much.
"what are you doing? i am going to be late."
"hm?" you peer up lazily from your spot on the bed, still half asleep.
"you have to do my hair."
"i thought you didn't want me to, so i slept in today."
your husband is eerily silent for a moment as he mulls over your words. then, he carefully perches himself on the edge of the bed, back turned to you expectantly and still wordless.
no, he would never admit he likes it just a little bit — the vulnerability, the trust, the feeling of your hands threading through his hair, the intimacy of it. hell no.
but neuvillette doesn't have to say a lot of things for you to understand; not when the way his skin heats up says it all; not when you're the first person to touch his horns in centuries; not when he’s saying stop that with such an affectionate glimmer in his eyes.
you give him four kisses that morning, two on either side.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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criminalamnesia · 2 months
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ok but price and simon could give such tolerate it vibes.
him with a younger partner. he finds your naivety and youth charming. you look up to him, and you can’t believe someone older and wiser is with you.
you met him when he was on leave, and things started getting serious after a few months, but then he was facing deployment again. so, with teary eyes and a broken heart, you watched him leave and promise you’ll write every day.
he chuckles and nods his head, placing a chaste kiss to your hair before slipping away.
you do write him everyday, and at first it’s endearing how worried you are. you don’t know what’s happening, and you’re so concerned— and he appreciates that. find it charming, even.
he comes home from that first deployment and you’re there, waiting with a battle hero’s welcome. streamers and balloons and a fucking cake you baked yourself on the dining room table of his flat. you, beaming brightly and clutching your hands together in glee, waiting by the door.
he laughs it off, tells you he appreciates it, but it was unnecessary. you tell him you think he deserves more.
time passes, and the charm of your naivety and doting loses its shine. you’re boasting to all your friends about your man, how amazing and strong and brave he is. and he tolerates it, laughs it off.
the next time he comes home from deployment, you’ve decorated your now shared flat. the whole nine yards because it’d been a longer deployment. his favorite meal, hot and fresh on the table. a bottle of his favorite liquor.
he can’t help but be annoyed. it was cute at first, and now he doesn’t understand it. he doesn’t care for the festivities— he’s done things no man should be proud of, yet here you are, celebrating him.
he doesn’t want to fight, so he tolerates it. puts on a smile, eats a few bites of dinner, and slips away for the evening. you frown but don’t question it.
soon it’s like you’re living with a shell of the man you loved. he’s quiet. gone a lot. barely affectionate. when the two of you talk, it usually ends in an argument. he won’t introduce you to any of his friends.
you still shower him with love, talk his ear off about plans and your day and whatnot, and he nods along absentmindedly.
your friends tell you he doesn’t deserve you. you’ve basically become a live-in housemaid that he occasionally fucks. you don’t believe it at first, but you come to realize it’s truth.
your love should be celebrated, not tolerated. you should be with someone who loves you as much as you love them.
the next time he’s on deployment, you move out. pack all your shit into a u-haul and move in with a friend for the time being. leave a note stained with tears on the dining room table.
he gets home from deployment, expecting what’s become normal. you, waiting anxiously by the door, jumping into his arms as soon as he’s inside. the smell of dessert or his favorite dinner wafting from the kitchen. balloons and streamers and confetti.
the house is dark when he steps through the door.
part two here, part three (ending version 1) here, part three (ending version 2) here
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sirenscriptures · 4 months
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princess treatment - mw2 men
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✧ synopsis: men who secretly (or not so secretly) live for treating you like royalty. even in the most mundane or difficult of times, you are their personal sanctuary.
۶♡ৎ featuring: johnny “soap” mactavish, simon “ghost” riley, captain john price, alejandro vargas, and könig.
before you read: female reader, sub reader, lots and lots of body worship, praise, soft sex, a little dacryphilia if u squint, breeding, cockwarming, cunnilingus, hair pulling, fingering, mirror sex, use of pet/endearment names.
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۶♡ৎ johnny “soap” mactavish ۶♡ৎ
✧ if there’s a man who is never ashamed to spoil you in any way he can, it’s johnny. ever since you two made it official he was all over the idea of showing you off and spoiling you to no end.
✧ outside of combat and missions, you can bet he dedicates so much of his time to you–his sweet girl.
✧ god help you if he comes home from a longer mission. you will not be able to pry him away from you for days. it’s not like you mind at all, though. his kisses are everything you wanted, so weighted and passionate, and he’s not even fully through the threshold of the front door when he first sees you again.
✧ his hands are already nestled in your hair, pressing your back against the wall as his tongue slips into your mouth. with his warm breath tickling your mouth, you can’t help but let out one of the sweetest whimpers he’s ever heard. god, it never fully occurred to him how much he loved to make you whine for him.
✧ “oh banphrionsa…” he murmurs, lips moving down to your sensitive neck. “i missed you.”
✧ “i missed you, too…” you stammer out feebly, the heat rising within your cheeks. your already flustered expression sparks a familiar fire within him as he moves you into his arms, carrying you towards your shared bedroom.
✧ it doesn’t take much to get you both out of your clothes, yet johnny still can’t get over how good you look. every time he gets to see you like this, it doesn’t matter how many times, he still gets so excited over it.
✧ “shit, baby…” he murmurs, peppering kisses on your upper body as he climbs on top of you. “you make me so crazy, y’know that?”
✧ nodding, you can’t help but give him that flirty smile that he loves so much. his lips crash onto yours again, tongue relishing the taste of your mouth. meanwhile, his hands are admiring your bare body as if you’re a rare jewel.
✧ even when just kissing you, it’s clear soap adores you in every way possible. it’s evident in the way he touches, kisses, and fucks you. he never wastes a single moment with you, and is always making sure you know just how special you are.
✧ even in between thrusts, his hands and words always ensure you’re reminded that you’re his special girl—his princess. the feeling of him stretching out your walls as he continually praises you is enough to draw you to tears—from both overstimulation and emotion.
✧ when he can tell you’re close to an orgasm, he pulls you closer into him even more, thrusts going deeper and deeper each moment. “i love you so much, sweetheart.” he groans, seed sputtering inside of you as your back arches against his chest, the sweetest moans flowing from your lips as you finish along with him.
۶♡ৎ simon “ghost” riley ۶♡ৎ
✧ for someone so reserved as simon, it was no surprise how much he valued your time alone together.
✧ in the past, he really preferred to be by himself when he had the time to spare. he always felt most himself when he wasn’t around too many people. but over time, it became natural that you were with him in these moments that brought him great peace.
✧ but past all things missions and duty, he deeply cherished when he got to be home alone with you. that way, he felt completely devoted to treating you the way you always deserved: like royalty.
✧ well, his version of royalty in this sense was a bit different than the conventional meaning of the term. but, in true simon fashion, it was quite fitting. and plus, he knew you loved it.
✧ the way he held you so perfectly in front of the mirror, hands caressing your body as his cock plunged in and out of you, he made sure you felt within every inch that you were all his.
✧ with your walls fluttering around him, you made it so much harder for him to hold back. simon knew you felt the same, the way your breaths depleted to mere shudders, your eyes glazing over with the faintest hint of tears.
✧ gently, his hand cupped under your chin, making you stare at your delicate frame against his broad chest. “now, now, sweet girl…” he purrs, breath tingling on your neck.
✧ “i can’t have you breaking on me now, can i?” his slightly raspy tone is loving, yet teasing you at the same time as a calloused thumb swipes away a tear streaking down your cheek. simon has always hated seeing you cry, but when he can make you cry from pure pleasure, you can bet that makes him feel on top of the world.
✧ “i need you to see how pretty you are, love.” you don’t even have to see his full face to feel his smirk against you. not even his full coverage mask could hide that from you on his best day.
✧ there is a sense of pride in his gaze as he looks at you through your reflection. with his hand under your chin, your expression is absolutely priceless. your glassed-over, desperate eyes practically plead for more, and your kiss-swollen lips are still as irresistible as ever. he can’t hide how proud he is that he’s made a mess of you–his sweet girl.
✧ “there you are, princess.” he teases, watching you stare at yourself in a daze. his thrusts are slow in and out of you as a free hand rubs and pinches at your nipples. your head falls back onto his shoulder, another broken moan falling from your agape mouth. simon feels you clenching around him again, the feeling earning a growl from him.
✧ but still, his thrusts remain tender and slow, ensuring you feel every part of him. as much as he’d love to ravage you with rough, fast thrusts, he loves your reactions to his deep, slow pace far too much in this moment. plus, this was all about your pleasure.
✧ it isn’t long before his warm seed is ribboning inside you, eventually dribbling down your quivering thighs as your orgasm joins with his own. your noises are so sweet, something he can never get enough of. and the look of you is enough to make him fall in love with you thousands of times over.
✧ he smiles at you, lips colliding messily with yours, admiring how warm your face is as he holds you. “you did so well for me,” he murmurs, breathing in your comforting scent. “my pretty girl.”
۶♡ৎ john price ۶♡ৎ
✧ believe it or not, captain price could be quite the romantic type. though, as a man with such a stoic position as a captain, that side never got much of a chance to reveal itself. unless, of course, he was alone with his favorite woman in the world…
✧ getting to see him in such a rare position felt so special to you. he was so sweet and gentle with you, it always found a way to make you swoon. and you bet price adored having that effect over you.
✧ the fact his mere touch could make you melt beneath him was enthralling, and definitely made him want more. of course, what better way to do that than to spoil you, right? after all, that was his favorite thing to do when he had his time with you.
✧ but it was his absolute favorite when he could be in between your legs, and he could stay there for hours. the feeling of you squirming beneath him had so many ways of making him feral for you, and he knew you loved it when he got to that point.
✧ while his tongue swirled over your sensitive clit, he could feel your hips bucking into his face ever so slightly, your noises growing louder each moment. you could hardly contain yourself any longer, and price adored every second of it.
✧ every few minutes, he would lay sweet kisses over your folds, fingers teasing your entrance from time to time. “sweetheart, you have no idea the things you do to me…” he breathes out, suckling at the sensitive bud again.
✧ your back starts to arch at his words, hands gripping tightly at the sheets. price lets out a satisfied chuckle as his fingers finally push inside your wetness. the feeling of your walls is just as he expects: heavenly. you’re so warm and welcoming to his fingers, it's almost hard for him not to push himself into you as a whole right then and there.
✧ “close already, yeah?” he teases, mouth still working at you, his fingers doing the same. the look in your eye confirms that for him, making his blood rush with excitement as your bottom lip hooks beneath your teeth.
✧ he smirks at you from between your legs. “well, allow me to help with that, angel.” price let his fingers curl inside of you towards your sweet spot, earning a strangled cry from you, your back arching even more.
✧ as his tongue slithered about your wetness, he marveled at the way you tightened around his fingers, especially when you released yourself. you sounded so sweet, and he couldn’t deny he wanted more of that from you.
✧ his lips finally met with yours, pulling your body close to his again. though, he was nowhere near done with you, he knew he wanted to admire you in this pleasure-filled haze just a bit more…
۶♡ৎ alejandro vargas ۶♡ৎ
✧ despite his roughened, at times crass exterior, alejandro had no problem showing his soft, vulnerable side to you and only you. he seldom ever let that gentle side slip outwards in front of just anybody, so you considered yourself lucky to have grown this close to him.
✧ besides, nothing could ever beat having those hypnotic dark eyes and that charming smile of his directed at you, and only you.
✧ but there was something about that certain…look you gave him in these moments that filled him with an endless desire to please you and spoil your body in so many different ways. it was that sweet, almost innocent look with a small lip bite that could make him fold you over in a matter of seconds.
✧ one thing about alejandro is that he preferred when he could take his time with you. he was the last one who wanted a quickie or something short. if he was going to pleasure his love, he was going to make sure you felt it.
✧ so when he has you sprawled out on the bed, cockwarming him as he caresses every inch of you, he can’t help but tease you just a bit from time to time. your whole body responds to him so perfectly, it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. can you really blame him?
✧ “ale…” you mewl out shakily, the feeling of his lips on your neck nearly pushing you over the edge. he smirks at you, hands continuing to massage your breasts. “hmm?” he hums against your skin, still leaving pretty marks all over you.
✧ you can barely even form words in this state. “mmmh, need you…” you stagger, breath hitching as his tongue starts to swirl around your protruding nipple.
✧ “you need to use your words, mi vida.” he presses a kiss to your neck again, taking you by the chin gently so he can stare at you properly. “what do you need from me?”
✧ alejandro’s gaze is soft yet still commanding, easily sending a shiver down your back. you take a breath, cupping his face in your hand. “i…need you to fuck me, please.” you manage, that sweet look that drove him feral still in your eyes.
✧ his lips press messily against you, a hand wrapping around your neck now. “que educada, princesa.” he chuckles, admiring how you tremble beneath him as he starts to move.
✧ his growls only add to your pleasure as he pushes deep inside you, your walls responding with a warm clench, making his grip on your hips tighter. you can feel your orgasm growing closer, moans growing shaky and incoherent.
✧ listening to his name fall so shattered from your lips pushed him over the edge, cum spilling into you as he watched in awe as your legs trembled and you clenched around him a final time.
✧ between warm, breathless kisses, he smiles at you again. “you’re so good to me, amor.” he says, pulling you close to his chest.
۶♡ৎ könig ۶♡ৎ
✧ in all honesty, könig has no idea how he got so lucky to have you. you were everything and more he could’ve ever asked for in a woman.
✧ even though he was far from inexperienced in the world of relationships and intimacy, you had a way of making him feel like it was the first time in every moment he got to spend with you.
✧ but some of his favorite moments came from when he got to spoil you. it didn’t matter if it was taking a lazy day where you stayed home or in bed for hours in the late morning, or if he was taking you out to one of your favorite places, as long as he was in your company, he was more than content.
✧ but if he had to pick an absolute favorite pastime with you… it had to be when he was able to worship you from head to toe.
✧ there was something so enthralling for both of you, having such a large man, in nothing but his boxers, on his knees in front of you, kissing every single inch of you as you sat on the bed, staring down in admiration.
✧ könig’s gentle expression as he looks up at you still has the power to give you butterflies even after being together for so long. the closer his mouth gets to the fabric of your underwear, he gives you a look until you eventually nod, making his lips spread into a smile.
✧ peeling the fabric to the side, his tongue swirls over your wetness. your back arches in response, head falling back as you let a moan escape. hearing you in this state drives him even further, pulling you by your hips against his face.
✧ even when you’re trembling, he continues. your moans have broken down to shaky sobs as he tonguefucks you, his growls vibrating against you. he can’t get enough of your taste, even when you’ve already come for him.
✧ eventually, he pulls away, licking his lips before kissing a trail up your stomach. his eyes stare into yours lovingly, fingers running through your hair.
✧ “you did so well, meine liebe.” he praises, kissing your neck before smirking. “but i’m nowhere near done with you.”
“banphrionsa” = princess, “mi vida” = my life, “que educada, princesa.” = how polite, princess. “meine liebe” = my love.
written by sirenscriptures. do not repost on any other website. do not translate, copy, or use.
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sttoru · 4 months
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‘the markings engraved on the wood hold unspoken memories; ones that will last forever.’
☀︎|tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. you’re married. based on a request i got a while back; reader and toji marking megumi’s changes in height throughout the years to record how much he’s grown.
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“oh, it’s already time to do that stuff ‘gain, huh?” toji grunts as he was lazily slumping back on the couch — rough hand cradling the head of his three year old son.
megumi was surprisingly quiet whilst laying on top of toji’s chest. the reason why probably being the dancing fruits and vegetables on the television. those videos was pure entertainment for the little guy.
toji’s eyes follow your movements as you grabbed a sharpie and walked towards the door of the living room. you had purposefully grabbed the special sharpie that existed only to fulfil one, sole task;
which was to mark megumi’s current height on the doorframe.
“yep.” you nod enthusiastically. you were excited to see how much megumi had grown since the last time you measured his height. it was a fun thing to do, yet also bittersweet.
toji looks down at the little boy on his chest. he grins like a proud dad once he notices how content megumi was in his embrace, “c’mon, bud. y’r momma wants to see how much bigger and stronger you grew.”
megumi’s attention was instantly drawn to you at the words uttered to him. in a sudden burst of energy, he jumps off toji’s torso — running your way. he was bouncing up and down like his favorite candy was about to get handed out.
“alright, alright.” you giggle softly and tenderly rub megumi’s cheeks with your fingers. toji gets up from the couch and joins the two of you, crossing his arms over his chest whilst leaning against the wall.
your husband’s focus was elsewhere; his gaze following the previous records that were left on the wooden jamb. there were dates assigned to each line — each holding a precious memory of their own. toji lets out a deep breath, closes his eyes and allows all the happy memories to flood back into his mind for a good moment.
he can’t stop the fond smile from forming on his face as he squats down to megumi’s level, “i bet ya grew a lot considering how much veggies y’ve been eatin lately.”
“yeah! big boy!” megumi grins back at toji — his playful grin resembling your husband’s. his tiny hands pat his belly, causing both his parents to laugh at his actions.
you pull off the cap from the sharpie and properly align your toddler against the doorframe. toji helped megumi stay still for the sake of measuring his height as accurately as possible.
you try to get the perfect dot right atop of megumi’s head. once you get it, you draw a straight line from that point to the end of the jamb. it’s then that you notice the difference between the previous blue line and the newest one you had just placed on the wood.
you stay silent for a few seconds after taking the tip of the sharpie away from the door jamb. there it was; that bittersweet look in your eyes. one that toji knew very well. he understands your emotions and doesn’t ever invalidate them since he feels the same deep within.
that beautiful and proud yet also surprisingly sad feeling. the one you get when you realise just how fast time flies.
“mama! mama! look!” megumi excitedly points out the obvious difference between the two lines, clapping his hands out of pure delight, “i’m shtronger! bwigger!”
the pure face of joy that megumi made, was enough to put a smile on your face as well. you instantly scoop your son up in your arms and hug him tightly to your body. megumi’s nose scrunches up, left cheek squished against your chest with a faint giggle escaping his lips.
toji’s expression was one of content in the meantime. a content man whom had finally found the reason as to why life was worth living.
his hand reaches out, index finger curling around the collar of megumi’s shirt from behind. he gives it a small yank as if trying to catch the boy’s attention. once toji gains exactly that — he opens his arms and motions for a hug;
“what ‘bout papa, kid?” your husband raises an eyebrow. he tries hard to fake a pout, though only ends up looking quite silly, “can papa get a big ol’ h—”
before toji could finish his sentence, megumi unexpectedly jumps into his arms. this causes toji to actually stumble back — falling out of his squat and into a sitting position on the floor. that was quite the surprise, but, a pleasant one it sure was.
the dark-haired man rolls his eyes before nuzzling his nose into megumi’s hair. his strong arms engulf the toddler completely—not wanting to let go any time soon.
“y’re gonna need to eat a lot more so you can grow up ‘n be as tall as me.” toji teases after a few seconds of comfortable silence. he squeezes megumi’s cheek and looks down at him fondly, “i’m sure you’ll even outgrow me ‘n your momma one day.”
the mention of your son one day growing up and becoming taller than you makes that solemn look return to your eyes. your bottom lip sticks out and your eyebrows furrow.
toji notices and regrets saying what he said whilst already knowing you were in a sentimental mood. plus, you always got even more emotional when talking about how quick megumi was growing up. it was like he was a newborn just yesterday.
“wah! mama. . .”
even megumi notices the change in your expression and he huffs. his eyes dart back towards his dad’s and his tiny fists (softly) land on toji’s chest twice. like he was giving out a punishment for ‘upsetting’ you.
“papa make mama sad! papa bad!” megumi sticks his tongue out at toji and runs back towards you — tiny arms circling your neck as he clings onto you in hopes to make you feel better.
your son’s cute antics were enough to lighten up the mood, causing both toji and you to laugh again. even if a tear had already rolled down your cheek from before.
you were about to wipe it away yourself, though was stopped by two hands: a large one and a small one. one belonging to toji and the other to megumi.
“aht aht,” toji narrows his eyes at his kid, “i’m the one who made y’r momma cry, so i gotta be the one comfortin’ her to make it right.”
“no! papa made mama sad. i make mama happy ‘gain. not papa.” megumi does the same back, though adds fuel to the fire by sticking his tongue out like earlier.
and. . . there they go again.
your husband and son go back and forth about who gets to wipe your tear away and comfort you. you knew toji was competitive - even with his own son - but it was funny to see how he still argued with a three year old like it was some serious business.
you couldn’t even be sad any longer as the squabbling makes you giggle — though also leaves you with a giddy feeling in your chest.
time seems to slow down when you’re engrossed in rememberable moments like these.
and all you could do was wish that they would last forever.
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tojikai · 8 months
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Sundered 2: EMBERS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion
word count: 5.4k
a/n: it's not sad.
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Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
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Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 
They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 
Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?
Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?
You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.
Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 
Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.
Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 
She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.
You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 
He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 
You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 
“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 
“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.
Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…
You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.
“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.
“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.
“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 
You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.
You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.
You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 
Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.
“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.
“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You didn’t grow up with a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.
“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.
You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 
You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 
Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 
—--------------------------------
“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.
He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.
“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 
Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?
He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 
Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.
“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.
—-------------------------------------
After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.
“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.
There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.
Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 
You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.
“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 
Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.
“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?
Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.
“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.
“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 
“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.
“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.
You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 
“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 
“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.
You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 
You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 
Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time. 
You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.
He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.
His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.
Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 
It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.
It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.
Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 
It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 
But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?
“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 
Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.
At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 
“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.
“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.
“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.
“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.
“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now when you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.
“Please, just-just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 
Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.
Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.
—------------------------------------------------------
A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.
He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.
He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.
Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?
Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.
So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 
“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.
“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 
Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.
“Think you know who I am now?” 
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a/n: just send an ask if u want to be removed <;33
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pucksandpower · 5 months
Text
Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader - Social Media AU
y/nhorner
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Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 273,816 others
y/horner waiting to get my wings
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y/nbiggestfan come on red bull, give our girl her wings already!
y/nhornersupremacy i hate that the talent is right in front of them but they keep overlooking you! totally their loss
y/nhornersupremacy manifesting those wings for you soon! the grid is missing your fierceness
purplesector red bull or alphatauri would be crazy not to lock you down
womeninmotorsport the world needs more phenomenal female drivers like you ❤️
y/n4wdc the day is coming for those wings, i just know it
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y/nhorner
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Liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 1,395,627 others
y/nhorner i don’t care, i paint the town red
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scuderiaferrari red is your color ❤️
charles_leclerc looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other 😉 welcome to the team!
y/nhorner can’t wait 🫶
gridgossip oh it’s about to go down! competing against daddy horner 👀
formulanone never call him daddy again 🥴
womeninmotorsport you go girl! time to show red bull what they missed out on
y/nbiggestfan so excited for you!
lewishamilton onwards and upwards 🙌🏾
y/nhorner thank you, lew!
formulanews red bull must be punching the air right now! y/n and ferrari are going to be a force to be reckoned with together
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La Vendicata Revitalizes Ferrari
Maranello, Italy (15 July 2024) - Scuderia Ferrari is reinvigorated in 2024 thanks largely to the arrival of young British driver Y/N Horner. Dubbed “La Vendicata” (The Avenged) by the loyal Tifosi, Horner has made an immediate impact in her first season with the team and rookie season in F1.
Her commanding victories at the Austrian and British Grands Prix added to a consistent streak of podium finishes, establishing Horner as a rising star. Beating Red Bull, her father’s team, on their home soil was sweet revenge after being passed over for a seat.
But Horner’s influence extends beyond her own results. She convinced renowned race strategist Hannah Schmitz to make the jump from Red Bull and breathe new life into the famously questionable Ferrari strategy. Schmitz’s shrewd calls have helped optimize both Leclerc and Horner’s aggressive driving styles.
Additionally, Horner brought along several top designers and engineers from Milton Keynes to strengthen Maranello’s technical team. Her rapport with teammate Charles Leclerc has Ferrari targeting its first Constructors’ Championship and Drivers’ Championship in nearly two decades.
Team Principal Fred Vasseur praised Horner’s technical acumen and work ethic. “Her talent and confidence are matched only by her preparation and diligence. Y/N understands the car and motivates the team.”
The Tifosi have quickly embraced La Vendicata’s bold charisma and flair for the dramatic. With a title challenge in sight, she has brought fresh belief and energy to Ferrari. Still very much early in her career, her potential seems limitless.
Y/N Horner is out to show Red Bull what they lost by revitalizing the Prancing Horse. With La Vendicata and Il Predestinato leading the charge, Ferrari’s glory days may soon return.
y/nhorner
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Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 784,695 others
y/nhorner i still want your hands up on my body. you still make my heart beat fast, ferrari
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leclerclover it’s definitely charles! i would know those arms and legs anywhere
trulytifosi i think her boyfriend is just being supportive and wearing ferrari merch
leclerclover no way, the body language is all there. it’s definitely charles!
f1wagupdates charles and y/n would be the dream team on and off the track
lightsoutferrari let’s not jump to conclusions, it could just be a random boyfriend. charles doesn’t have a monopoly on wearing ferrari branded clothing
scuderiay/n i know that nothing’s been confirmed yet but imagine if it is charles 👀 they would have so much chemistry together
monzamash i’m manifesting them so much
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scuderiaferrari
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Liked by y/nhorner, charles_leclerc, and 2,175,834 others
scuderiaferrari when your drivers take team bonding a bit too seriously
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y/nhorner you told us that we should get close to each other so we did
scuderiaferrari as teammates, maybe friends. not close enough for the admin to be traumatized by finding you with each other’s tongue down your throats while i was just trying to get an espresso
charles_leclerc what can we say? we’re overachievers like that
maxverstappen1 so it’s okay when they do it but when i tried to kiss daniel for team bonding i got in trouble? make it make sense!
redbullracing it’s been seven years, let it go
maxverstappen1 no
ferraricentral clearly whatever they’re doing is working so no complaints here
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