#so maybe I do an early dinner that I cook and then go sit in Panera or something

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife chef!reader? She always brought him food because she knew how busy he could get with everything. So, she would always make him his favourite meals/pick up a guilty pleasure snack as a surprise for him. Maybe she had some surprises for him. I'll let you decide what it was. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks! :))

Lets make lunch for my Husband! - Peter Bonnington x ChefWife! Reader

Plot: You are famous on Tiktok for making videos where you pack lunches for you husband but use ingredients globally as you always travel with him of race weekends.

Credit to princemick for the GIF

y/user

Liked by peter.bonn, gordongram and lewishamilton

y/user: Racing in Bahrain!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round One 🇧🇭 And we have Chicken, Rice and Veggies (a very hearty meal here) 🏎️

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fan1: I love her TikTok’s she’s so funny and Peter is just so cute!

fan2: their relationship is eveything you me

gordongram: Cooking in Style as always Y/N!

-> y/user: thanks Gords!

“Baby, lunch was amazing today! And thank you for putting the Twirl in there!” He grins as you both get back to the hotel, it had been a good race and you were both happy.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it hunny. I’ve already made a meal plan of what I’m going to make at each race! You’ll be so happy with breakfast lunch and dinner in Silverstone!” You grin pulling him in for a kiss.

“Mmmm what have I got?” He grins, pulling you to sit on his lap on the sofa in your hotel room.

“Breakfast, of course a full English, get you all set for the day and make sure you’ve got all the protein to see you through till lunch. Then you’ve got your fave Ham Pesto and Mozzarella Sandwich for lunch. And then to round it off, I’ll invite Toto, Suzie, Lewis, George and Carmen all round for a Sunday Roast!” You say practically bouncing at the prospect of guests and being able to cook for them!

“I love you, you are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me” he smiles pulling you back to relax on the sofa as you both sit there in each others embrace.

“I love you most!” You declare making him laugh and kiss your head. It wasn’t a battle he could win with you despite knowing you were wrong and he held an impossible amount of love for you.

y/user

Liked by peter.bonn and lewishamilton

y/user: Racing in Saudí Arabia!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Two 🇸🇦 And we have my first time making Kabsa which a local helped me get all the ingredients! It’s very yummy! 🏎️

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peter.bonn: it was so nice, can’t wait to come back!

fan1: I’m living for this series, not the rich men racing!

fan2: this is so cute that she cooks for him!

“You know, the boys keep saying you need to start bringing it in for them aswell” he chides as you get into the car.

“What am I expected to cook for the 5000 now? I don’t think so, that’s why they have a paid for hospitality…” you groan, waking up early just to prepare Peter some food was exhausting you couldn’t imagine getting up to make it for more people!

“Maybe Toto should hire you as head chef here!” He grins and you laugh at the thought. You, working in Mercedes Catering?

“Baby … you know I have a … Michelin Star right?” you offer in confusion.

“Oh so your below working for Mercedes now are you?” He frowns, faking his offence on the matter.

“Oh stop being a whiny baby Pete!” You scold lightly hitting his arm, making him recoil and sigh before pulling you into a big hug.

“Im lucky you don’t have to be there 24/7. What would I do without you” he laughs.

“Probably starve as you’d forget to eat!” You hum in thought.

y/user

Liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and peter.bonn

y/user: Racing in Australia!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Three 🇦🇺 Of course I couldn’t come in and not offer fairy bread (as requested by my adopted grid son Oscar Piastri) and my famous Chicken Parm Sandwiches for the team which went down a treat!

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oscarpiastri: thank you for the fairy bread Y/N, LN understands the hype now

-> landonorris: don’t tell Jon, he said I couldn’t have any …

-> y/user: and rat out my second grid son, no way!

danielricciardo: brought back childhood memories! Thanks for coming all the way to VCARB for delivery!

-> y/user: you are welcome Dani! 🇦🇺🐨

“Thank you for the fairy bread!” Oscar said pulling you into a hug as you came back to get your container from the McLaren garage, seeing it fully empty.

“Everyone enjoy? Even though I felt like a child making it?” You laugh knowing it wasn’t exactly a chef thing to make but Oscar had asked for it, and who were you to deny the literal son you had adopted since he started.

“Yeah, Lando hadn’t ever tried it and I made it for Lily once to prove to her it was a real thing we ate but the bread kinda ended up being soggy, she preferred yours a lot more” he laughed back and you continued to talk about racing, cooking, life and everything else that just came up.

Halfway through that conversation Lando joined pulling his grid mum into a massive hug and asking her to bake him some cake or make the chicken wraps.

Fun fact, Y/N actually invented the chicken wrap for Lando. She became Lando’s private chef for a while when he lived in the UK, and he wasn’t … well I mean he’s Lando and if anyone expects him to know even know to turn on an oven you are sorely mistaken.

Eventually a group of drivers were around the woman, and it took Peter and Lewis forcing their way through to get her to come back.

“You’ve been busy!” He smiles nodding his head to the now dispersing group.

“Yeah, just talking to the kids!” You grin, nodding in the McLaren twins direction who were now messing around with each other.

y/user

Liked by inthekitchen, peter.bonn and others

y/user: Racing in Azerbaijan!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Four 🇦🇿 Cooked up a storm off track today in a cooking interview and remaking one of the first dishes I learnt in school ‘Uzbek Plov’

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inthekitchen: pleasure to have you in and talking while cooking :)

-> y/user: thank you for all the fun! 🫶🏼

peter.bonn: This was nice, but I’m going to need some comfort food soon baby, these variations of meat and rice … it’ll be the end of me.

-> y/user: I thought you enjoyed my cooking!

-> peter.bonn: I DO! Just missing some creature comforts!

“You were amazing in that interview baby!” He says twirling you around as he came to pick you up on the Saturday evening. You had unfortunately missed qualifying, but you were excited to hear about your husbands day.

“Thank you, how was qually?” You ask.

“Could have been better, could have been worse” he admits looking down. He then tells you all about his frustrations with the car this season and he feels pretty helpless when it comes to advising Lewis who is getting more and more hot headed as the season progresses.

“Well I made your favourite!” You grin showing him the famous Victoria Sponge you’d made on the cooking show.

“Oh fuck, I love you!” He grins before directing you over to the car to get you both back to the hotel as soon as possible so he can have some of the delicacy in the tin on your lap.

y/user

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y/user: Racing in Miami

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Five 🇺🇸 My husbands been getting fussier. Now in the homeland where there is no cuisine … we’ve gone for the requested creature comforts. From Breakfast to Lunch here are Peter’s faves!

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peter.bonn: best waffles ever 🧇

“Thank you, I think I really needed that meal! As much as love the differentiation with this global skills challenge. I needed something to remind me of home! The waffles were perfect. And my favourite Sandwich? I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned for Monaco next week!” He grins happily. Loving that you were cooking him something for every race.

“Ooo that reminds me. I picked you up these” you grin. Out from your bag you pull out a box of American Candy that he always wanted whenever you guys were in the states.

“In Moderation okay? Toto will murder me if he knows all these desserts are happening!” You smile kissing him before placing the sweets in his hand.

You had big plans for Monaco and you couldn’t wait!

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #peter bonnington oneshot #peter bonnington fluff #peter bonnington x you #peter bonnington x reader #peter bonnington imagine #peter bonnington #mercedes

[revasserium]

Okay okay hear me out Rain: reader watching Sanji cook, just sitting, waiting, maybe reading a book but catching glances at him every so often and he knows they're looking at him and just smiles....sorry I love that man

accidentally in love

opla!sanji; 2,569 words; fluff, banter so much banter, flirting, flustered!sanji, whipped!sanji, no "y/n", confessions, "sweetheart", fem!reader, straw hat"!reader

summary: in which sanji is trying to cook dinner but you're very, very distracting. or, sanji finally meets his match.

a/n: i know i said i might not write for anyone other than zoro but i lied. i guess i'm a sanji bitch now too. fuck.

Sanji’s always liked to say that he can cook anywhere, anytime, given that he’s got something that resembles heat and a smattering of ingredients — like any great artist, he knows how to make do. But, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this — the quiet of a ship’s kitchen, the gentle sway of the ocean, the simmer and pop of fat on a pan, the soft bubbling of boiling water — and you.

You, perched on the counter with your legs hanging off the side, hair piled up and pinned with a chopstick, a book in your hands or on your lap, the early afternoon sun spilling in to caress your skin like so many loving fingers. Sometimes, he’ll glance over while chopping onions or mincing garlic to catch a glimpse of you, and he’d find himself stilling, his fingers slowing, his breath suspended in his chest, caught like an insect in amber: held weightless and perfect.

“You’re staring,” you say, flipping a page without looking up, a smile twitching at your lips.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve found that admiring beautiful things helps me in my creative process,” he says, his grin going lopsided as he lowers his eyes to the ingredients on the cutting board — tiny, plump cherry tomatoes ripe to bursting. He resumes slicing each in half with swift, decisive cuts and relishes in the sound of your laughter.

“Careful with that mouth of yours — someone might accidentally fall in love with you,” you flip another page.

Sanji slides the cut tomatoes into a bowl and wipes a hand on the towel slung over his shoulder.

“Accidentally? C’mon, you gotta gimme some more credit. But if anyone’s fallin’ in love, it’s gonna be with you.”

Another page. Sanji plucks a few zucchini from a large bag and starts to julienne them into thin strips.

“What are you making?” you ask, finally setting the book down in favor of peering at all the ingredients he’s got laid out. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing up.

“What, finished with that book already?”

“Nope — just found something more interesting to look at, that’s all.”

Sanji blushes.

Let it never be said that Vinsmoke Sanji can’t take as good as he gives but by all the gods and monsters and sea kings — you’re a damn good flirt. Almost as good as he is, he used to think. Now, as he covers up his rapidly darkening cheeks with a chuckle, turning away to grab a potato for skinning, he wonders if you might just be better.

“You never answered my question, y’know.”

He looks up again, his tongue feeling strangely swollen and uncoordinated in his mouth. You’re grinning at him, your legs still swinging, but in the few seconds he’d looked away, you’ve inched closer, your outer thigh now almost pressing against the edge of his cutting board.

The first time he’d found you perched up on his long work table with a book in your lap, he’d blinked, crossed his arms, and debated on asking what on earth you thought you were doing. Chefs generally do not take kindly to their prep spaces being treated like free real estate for sitting, but he’d never been able to say no to a beautiful woman, now has he? And least of all you.

“Thought you could use the company,” was your answer to his then-unasked question. He’d laughed, nodded, and gotten on with his breakfast prep. But that was months ago and since then, it’s become something of a habit; a ritual, almost.

“What question was that? I was —” he asks, clearing his throat, his fingers almost slipping on the freshly peeled potato, “distracted by your —”

“What are you making?”

“Oh —” Sanji returns his gaze to the cutting board, now acutely aware of the smell of your skin, creamy and warm. He swallows, trying to focus on slicing the potato.

“Just a cherry tomato and zucchini noodle pasta — not often that we get such fresh produce. But Luffy’d asked if I can make chips from scratch the other day so that’s what this bad boy’s for,” he says, holding up half the potato.

“You sure one potato’s gonna be enough?” you shift your leg to cross one above the other, and Sanji has to swallow passed the thickness building up in the back of his throat at the sight of your soft, smooth thighs.

“Good point,” he says, laughing as he bends down to grab a few more.

You fall into a companionable silence, the quiet only punctuated by the tack-tack-tack of his knife on the cutting board and the occasionally shunk-thump of ingredients being swept into a metal prep bowl.

“You’re staring,” he says. And this time, it’s Sanji who grins, keeping his eyes fixed on the remainder of the herb mix he’s chopping up.

“Yeah, I know. I’m making a habit of admiring beautiful things. I’ve heard that it’s good for me.”

Heat bursts in Sanji’s chest as if he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey or gin or perhaps something even more potent. His head spins, but he steadies himself before letting out a soft, low whistle. He fights the urge to look up just to check if you’re as affected as he is.

“Keep talkin’ like that and falling in love with you’s not gonna be an accident.”

When he finally looks up to shoot you a flirty smile, he finds himself faltering as he meets your eyes.

“Who said I wanted it to be an accident?”

The knife in Sanji’s hand slips and he swears as it knicks the skin of his forefinger.

“Ah, shit —”

“Oops.” You have the decency to look sheepish as he shoots you a mildly reproachful look. But you shift your legs and tug open a drawer that had been tucked beneath where your knee had been, pulling out a small bandage.

“Come here,” you offer, reaching out as he stares at you for a second before moving forward to give you his hand. You gently wipe away the blood before pressing the bandage to the small cut, running a thumb over the edges to make sure it’s sealed.

The air hangs between you like dust motes trapped in sunlight, like first snow caught in the silvery breaths of awestruck children.

“There,” you say, the word no more than a whisper. Your hands linger over his, his skin burning where you’d touched him. Shivers skitter down the length of his spine as he gulps in a breath of air that tastes faintly of fairytale endings and happily-ever-afters.

“Thanks.”

He doesn't pull away. Neither do you.

Like this, he can count every single lash that frames your doe-wide eyes. Like this, he can feel the static thrum of electricity threatening to jump from his body to yours, and all at once, he understands why lightning always tries to reach for the closest thing to its storm-ridden skies.

Perhaps it, too, yearns for closeness — for that infinitesimal moment of connection.

He wants to reach for you.

Your lips hover a kiss’s-breadth away.

An alarm goes off.

“Oh fuck —”

He jerks away from you, the world clanging rudely back into focus as he reaches for the lid of a large pot, his heart hammering something fierce inside his ribcage. He nearly burns himself on the thick fog of steam rising from inside the pot to reveal six flat-face crabs, freshly caught that morning.

Behind him, he hears the distinct sounds of you slipping from the long work table.

“Leaving already?” he asks as he turns back around with a stab at his usual light-hearted cheek.

You lick your lips, grinning, “I feel like I’ve caused enough damage for one dinner service. If I keep hanging around, you might lose a finger next.”

“Small price to pay for the company of a beautiful woman,” but there’s a gravel and grit to his voice that wasn’t there before, and he looks away first when this time your eyes catch. He tries to busy himself with prepping the pan sauce for the crabs.

“I’ll let Nami know that the next time she wants to peek in on you cooking.”

“Hey —”

You pause at the sound of his voice just as you reach the door. You turn.

Sanji’s expression flickers between caution and anticipation as he opens his mouth, his eyes somehow sharper and darker than they usually are.

“We’re not done talking about this.”

You cock your head, “About what?”

But there’s a smile teasing at the corner of your lips and Sanji lets out a good-humored sigh.

“Alright, go. Or else I might lose more than a finger.”

Like a heart, he thinks as you close the door behind you with a soft click.

Dinner is an appetizer of cold zucchini pasta followed by a warm, tangy tomato veloute. Then come the crabs — freshly steamed over a bed of risotto and served with a lemon and rosemary pan sauce so delicious it has even Zoro sighing with satisfaction.

“Wow, special occasion?” Nami asks, looking up as Sanji comes around with a tray full of cocktails, complete with blood orange slices garnishing the lip of each glass.

“Ain’t every day a special one with this crew?” he asks, winking at Nami as she takes her drink.

Everyone laughs, but as he sets down your drink, you notice a tiny note tucked beneath the base of your glass.

You take a sip of your drink, glancing down at the note. It has three simple words written in Sanji’s unmistakable, slanted handwriting:

Kitchen — after dinner.

You tuck the note away in your pocket with a secret grin, taking another long sip of the cold, refreshing drink.

The final course is a heaping pile of home-made potato chips with garlic and cheese dip, and Luffy wastes no time in shoveling half the batch into his mouth, crunching loudly over a series of vague, animalistic hums and grunts that all seem to denote happiness.

You finish your drink and slip away under the guise of going for another.

When you get to the kitchen, it's to find Sanji already cleaning up.

“Need a hand?” you ask, setting your empty glass on the counter before lightly hoisting yourself up onto it.

Sanji shakes his head, turning off the water and wiping down his hands. He pours you another drink from a large pitcher before setting it down and pursing his lips.

“This afternoon —”

“I meant what I said —” you say, cutting him off as you look away, eyes fixed on your knees as you swing your feet away from the table’s edge, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sanji clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and a lighter, if only to keep his hands busy. The thing in his chest that he’d been so convinced was his heart for most of his life now feels very much like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a hand grenade, with the pin held precariously between your teeth.

One word from you and —

“So? What about you?” you ask.

Sanji sucks in a long breath of smoke, holding it in his lungs before letting it out. The familiar sting grounds him as he looks at you and wonders if you know all the things he’d do for you. All the things he’s already done.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yeah — did you mean it?” And for the first time since he’s known you, you sound uncertain, “All… all those things you said? All the things you’ve been saying?”

He takes a few steps forward, finally allowing himself to breach the delicate circle of your personal space, his free hand coming to rest on the counter next to your thigh, his palm pressing flat to keep himself from going too far, too fast.

“Three guesses,” he says, letting his eyes flicker down to your lips and linger there, “You guess right… and there might be a prize involved, hm?”

A small, knowing grin spreads across your lips even as you quirk an eyebrow.

“Three guesses to a yes or no question? C’mon, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch.”

Sanji leans in and you can almost taste the smoke on your tongue.

“But you do know better, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You suck in a breath, reaching up to tug the cigarette from his lips.

“Yes.”

You catch a flash of his smile a second before his lips find yours. He tastes of salt and tobacco and lemon-rosemary sauce.

“That’s one,” he says as the pair of you break apart. The cigarette lies forgotten on the counter.

Somehow, his hands have found their way to the bend of your waist, settling there as naturally as the tide might settle against its favorite stretch of forgotten beach.

You smile as you reach up to tug him closer, “Yes.”

Another kiss.

Sanji notes with a satisfied grin that your cheeks are just as flushed as his feels when he pulls away this time. He nods, trailing long fingers up your side, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other pressing at the small of your back.

“That’s two.”

You nudge his nose with yours and he feels his hand-grenade heart leap into his throat.

“And…” you hum, letting your head lilt to one side as you ghost your lips over his, “Hm, lemme think about this one…”

Sanji rolls his eyes, tugging you forward by the back of your neck, crushing your mouth to his. It’s more insistent this time — the kiss, the breath, his fingers, your hands — more desperate and fumbling, fueled by the ever-growing heat bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Yes —” you hiss, panting as the pair of you pull apart, your pupils blown wide and dark in the dim kitchen light.

“And that’s all three,” he says, his smile going wide with warmth, “See? You’ve got it. Knew you’d get there.”

“Did you ever doubt?”

Sanji shrugs, taking half a step back to admire the sight of you, with kiss-swollen lips and heat-flushed skin. Perfect might not be strong enough a word.

“There was a moment here or there,” he says, to which you respond with a light shove to his shoulder as you hop off the table.

“Oh, I meant to ask you — what’s for dessert?”

Sanji laughs, “What? Did my garlic-cheddar chips not satisfy?”

“Really? Chips for dessert? And here I was hoping for something sweet.”

You make to leave the kitchen but Sanji reaches forward, pulling you back all too easily, spinning you around and pinning you against the door. His eyes are soft with mirth but as he leans down, you can’t help but shiver at the promise of something more lingering beneath the smoke of his breath.

“Well then, sweetheart, I think I’ve got my dessert picked out already now, don’t I?”

recs r technically closed, but... if you have an opla!sanji one... send it here.

#uhohitsemmy #opla #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece netflix #one piece fluff #sanji opla #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #opla x reader #opla x you #opla fluff #x reader #floofy floof floof #yall when i say we're whipped i rly do mean WHIPPED #also shoutout to my bf for making that menu for dinner cause i kno nothing about european style cooking #least of all french cooking #scheduled post

[cherry-leclerc]

thinking of her ☆ cl16

genre: angst, marriage trope

word count: 1.8k

You and Charles take a visit to marriage counseling.

inspired by this !

req!... had some free time to write so thought i would work on a request i just got! short one, but i hope you enjoy :)

“Tell me why you’re both here.”

The room is silent and slightly cold. A large canvas hangs right in front of you as you take time to pretend you care about the family painted on it. Part of you actually does.

“Well, she thought it would be a good idea to drag us into this.”

Your eyes flicker to Charles and you would only hope that he could tell that you weren’t impressed by his answer. It was true, it was your idea to go to couple’s counseling, but only because you cared. You cared a lot. Sometimes you thought for sure he didn’t anymore.

“Honey, tell me what made you decide this.”

You wanted to burst with anger. To prove to her that this wasn’t completely your fault. He wasn’t perfect, he tested your patience and despite it all, you still loved him enough to try and salvage your marriage. 

Your therapist stares back, pen ready to scribble possible solutions as if her words would really matter. Maybe, deep down, you didn’t like being here either, but you wanted to prove to Charles how he’s been a shit husband. 

You wanted someone to back you up.

Taking a deep breath, you play with your wedding band. The one that you would normally admire, but now it just felt like pure suffocation. “He’s given me plenty of reasons to not trust him the way I once did and now I sit here like a fool thinking he might change.”

The way her pen glides is something you hate. 

Looking back up at you both she takes a moment to analyze the couple. Charles sits with a blank expression, as if he really did have somewhere better to be. In his mind, he did. Then, there was you. Regardless of your words pouring with pure vexation, your body language displayed something else. 

Your eyes were sad and tired. She easily noticed the way your hand would want to reach out to Charles, but would quickly grip tighter to your lap.

“Please, if you don’t mind, would you care to explain.”

You press your lips together. “I first noticed a difference 2 years into our marriage.”

-

“Chicken or fish?” 

It was Charles’ day off from work in a long time and you were currently on a call with Pascale trying to figure out what to surprise him with. He always raved about how much he loved what you cooked for him. 

“Fish. You guys were just here yesterday and I made grilled chicken, remember?”

You hum as you get into your car and start driving to the market. The conversation is cut short when you finally reach your destination. Walking through the aisle you decide it would be a fine idea to grab some wine you both love. 

“Charles?” The brunette looks up, red wine in his hand, as you smile a bit confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you were playing padel with Lorenzo.” 

“I was! Finished the game early and thought I would grab us some wine for later.” He gets closer as he kisses you and takes the kart from you. “Shopping for dinner?” You nod.

“Thought it’d be nice…” You look at the bottle and yes it’s red, but it's not the kind you both like. “Honey, you got the wrong one.” A panicked look flashes his face before he lets out a nervous laugh. Of course! I’ll change it right now.

-

“It only took a couple more slip ups for me to find out.”

The therapist nods as her attention turns to Charles, where he plays with his bracelets. “And what made you stay?” You want to laugh. Are we just going to spend time on me? She shakes her head. “We’ll get to him, I just want to hear from you first.”

“After I confronted him he swore he’d stop seeing her. I guess it was my fault for even believing him.”

-

“Amour!”

He runs into the living room, kitchen, basement, everywhere. Breathing hard he looks around the house as if the furniture will give up and tell him where you are. A loud thud echoes from upstairs. Two steps at a time, he darts up quickly into your bedroom. His heart stops when he sees you packing a suitcase. What are you doing?

You don’t answer. Don’t even spare a passing glance. Instead you slip the gold band off your finger as you throw it behind you. It only falls a few steps in front of him. He picks it up as he makes his way to you. “I’m so sorry.”

Your back faces him, but you don’t dare make a single sound. You curl your hand against the dress you were folding, bite hard on your lip to not let out a single sob. But your chest hurts, your tears feel like acid against your skin and you’re almost thankful for pain like that, that way what Charles did wouldn’t be the only thing that hurt.

He makes his way to kneel down in front of you as you stare down at the carpet. You had begged him only a few days ago to put down the deposit on it and for a while he said it wouldn’t be financially responsible, but later agreed. You hated the carpet now.

“Why? Just why?”

He’s far too embarrassed to even come up with an answer. “...I don’t know.”

When you finally look up at him he sees what he’s caused. Your eyes are bloodshot as your nose is rosy. Cheeks are so bright pink, it almost looked as if someone pinched them. 

You let out a wet laugh as you drop your hands against your lap. “You know, when I woke up this morning and you were gone I thought to myself, ‘Wow. What did I do to deserve a husband who wakes up early enough to get me breakfast on my birthday?’ And I waited. And waited. But whatever! That’s fine! He probably got busy. Then Pascale called to confirm if we were still going out for dinner, to which I said, ‘Yes! Of course!...Yes, the gold bracelet! It was beautiful, thank you for helping him pick it out.’ I thought it was sweet, I did, but you never came. And again, the presents are not what mattered, but it was you. I texted you. I called you. I told myself you were probably too busy planning something sweet the way you always did. They all asked where you were and I had to lie and tell them you were going to be late. Do you know how stupid I felt when I saw you and her enter the restaurant holding hands? And then what did I do? I purposefully had you see me run out so you could chase after me, so that your family would never find out about your…fling.”

Charles keeps bowing his head lower and lower almost as if to hide from his mistakes.

“...So where’s my bracelet, huh? Because you got it for me for my birthday, right?” Extending your hand out hurts because you know deep down it was never for you. 

“I don’t have it…” You click your tongue as you retract your arm. Of course you don’t, you seethe. With all your strength, you stand with wobbly knees as you start to walk away. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

And he should feel relieved, but instead he feels like a complete asshole. How could he ruin things with his wife who swore to love him with all her being? He knew you well enough to know that you always will and he couldn’t let that go. He would fix this.

He runs to the door to close it. Move, you spit out. He shakes his head as he hugs you. 

“S-stop,” you say in a shaky voice as warm tears begin to flow once more. “It’s okay, just let me go…”

You go stiff when you realize he’s crying into your neck. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…He just keeps repeating it and you can’t stop yourself from hugging him back. He loved you and you loved him. That’s all that mattered.

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

-

“So he cheated: you forgave him. He put her first and your marriage second.”

You flinch at her words because they only remind you how true they are. For a while, you thought you could both get over it, but you never really did. Not when you were already both standing on opposite sides of the road.

“Mom always did say I always saw the best in people.”

“And you…” Charles gulps. “What made you fall into an affair?”

Months ago, when you first found out, he didn’t have any answer to that question. But he did now.

“I wasn’t smart enough to appreciate my wife.” He looks at you as you avoid eye contact because you know the moment you looked into his eyes, you would fall all over again.

But you still did.

His eyes are sorry, you could tell, and the way his hand makes his way to you is enough for you to grow warm despite the cold room. 

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes - I know that - but none of them could compare to what I did to us. For putting you through so much doubt…For making you think I didn’t love you, but I always did.”

You're crying now as you nod because this is all you ever needed to hear.

“If this was the bump in the road that we had to overcome to grow closer then I accept it because I love you too, Charles. It’s about time you realized that.”

-

Charles feels lighter, happier. Now that he gets to hold your hand after many fights, he’s reminded about all the things he loves about you. But nothing could have prepared him for you to let go of his hand.

“I want a divorce.”

He’s stunned. W-what? We just decided that we were fine, that we were moving on…

You shake your head as you laugh. “My apologies, God, did I make you believe a lie? Feels awful, doesn’t it?”

He furrows his brows as he tries to reach out for you but you keep stepping further back. “Back there you almost had me…You said, ‘...none of them would compare to what I did to us.’ Us. Did you suffer? Did you spend countless, empty nights, crying yourself to sleep wondering what you did wrong? No, because it was all me. It wasn’t what you did to us, it's what you did to me.” You spin your ring one last time before slipping it off and placing it in his hand. He wants to say something to make you change your mind, to oversee his past mistakes one more time, because he swore to himself it would be the last time. But he could tell you’ve made up your mind. You twist your heel, ready to walk away before taking one last look into his green eyes you once loved.

“And the baby is getting my last name.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut

[ellieswrldd]

softly .

pairing: jackson!ellie williams x f!reader

summary: ellie comes home late and wants to make it up to you.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), established relationship, not proofread!!! (this is so rushed)

a/n: IM BACK. sorry that took forever i was fighting demons...anyways shout out to @luvrgrl07 who said we need more pussy eating fics bc this is where it brought me

A heavy snow was falling over Jackson. You sat inside your small home, a strong fire waving in the brick fireplace and your dinner on the kitchen table. It was growing cold, sitting out for over half an hour now as you waited for Ellie to return home. She was on patrol like always, though she was running far later than expected. 

It wasn’t unusual that Ellie was late, but the snowstorm growing outside your windows gave you a reason to worry. Hopefully, she was just cooped up in one of the lookouts rather than fighting off infected in the cold. Maybe she was already on her way to your door.

You looked at the food set on the table and sighed softly. It was a nice dinner, one you had spent a lot of time on. Ellie claimed that she would try her best to be home early to spend the night with you since she wasn’t able to do so very often. 

You wiped your hands on your apron and went to glance out the window. All of the Jackson residents were indoors now except for the few who manned the gate, the snowy streets were empty. 

Later, as you added more wood to the fire, you heard the front door open. Ellie kicked off her boots and set her bag on the floor. When you saw her, a small smile tugged at your lips. Ellie’s cheeks were reddened by the cold, her hair pinned into a messy bun, and snow dusting her clothes. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” She said quietly, her eyes darting down to the wood floor. You walk to her, a hand reaching out to touch her cold cheek. 

“It’s alright,” You clear your throat and glance at the dinner table. “Why don’t you go change, and I’ll reheat your food? Yeah?” It was clear that Ellie was tired and while you previously were a bit annoyed that she’d broken her promise, it all melted away as you observed the girl in front of you. Leaning in, you gave her a gentle kiss. Ellie cracked a small smile and pulled away to go to the bedroom. 

The pan crackled softly as you placed it on the stove. You warmed the food slowly, not wanting to burn any of it in the process. Her arms slid around your waist gently, her chin resting on your shoulder as you cooked. 

“Missed you,” Ellie mumbled, her breath tickling your neck. She was wearing one of her worn hoodies and a different pair of jeans. 

“You had me worried, coming home so late.” You sighed and poked at the food on the pan with a spatula. Ellie’s hands squeezed your hips and she kissed your jaw. 

“I know, I really wanted to be home earlier. I’m sorry, baby.” Her thumbs drew small circles on your hips and you smiled. 

“M’not sure I can ever forgive you for this,” You hummed, teasing her. Ellie’s lips traveled from your jaw down to your neck, slowly kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. She moved in a repeating pattern, a kiss, a tiny bite, then she would roll her tongue over the blooming mark. 

“So let me make it up to you,” Ellie laughed softly against your neck, her hands moving up your torso. “I’ll make it worth your time…” She said and cupped your breasts over your apron. 

You took a deep breath. “What about dinner? Aren’t you hungry?” One of Ellie’s hands left your body and reached out to turn the stove off. 

“Dinner can wait. Besides, I’m hungry for something else.” You set down your spatula on the counter and giggled. 

“Okay then,” You turned to face Ellie and rested your arms on her shoulders. She smiled at you, her eyes trailing down your face until they landed on your lips. Sweetly, Ellie met your lips with her own, only pulling away to breathe now and then. The kiss alone would’ve been enough to make you forget everything, but Ellie seemed to crave more. 

Her lips followed yours like magnets and her hands tugged at the knot of your apron until it came undone. Ellie pulled the apron over your head and tossed it to the floor. She pushed you back slightly, just far enough for you to bump against the kitchen table. 

Almost instinctively, Ellie helped you onto the table, grabbing your hips and lifting you to sit. She pulled away from your lips to nip at your neck instead and you let out a soft laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Ellie asked, her face still buried in the crook of your neck. 

You shook your head but promptly responded when she gave your thigh a playful slap. “This wasn’t the dinner I had planned–” You let out a soft sigh when you felt her tongue run along your skin in one long stripe. 

“Well,” Ellie’s slender fingers made their way to the button of your jeans. “I know that you worked hard to cook dinner for us,” She unbuttoned your pants. “And I know you were worried about me,” Ellie tugged the zipper down. “Jus’ wanna make it up to you, even if it’s not what you had in mind.” Her hand slipped into your pants and your breath hitched. 

You shuddered as her finger brushed against your clothed clit. As if she enjoyed seeing you frustrated, Ellie continued to gently rub your cunt through your panties. You moaned quietly, holding a hand up to your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“Lay back,” Ellie muttered, taking her hand out of your pants. You listen and lay back on the table, spreading your legs open further. Ellie grinned and tugged your pants off before speaking again. “Don’t cover your mouth like that, I wanna hear you.” She sunk to her knees before the table and moved to kneel between your legs. “M’not kidding, I’ll stop if you do that,” You caught a glimpse of a smug little smirk on her face. Your mouth opened to say something snarky in response but you were promptly cut off when her mouth suddenly closed over your clit, your panties still in between you and her mouth. The reaction your body has to her touch is always immediate, your hands find their way to her messy auburn hair, your thighs close around her head, and your back arches off the table. 

Through a series of breathy moans and gasps, you begged her to take your panties off, to go all the way and not tease you anymore. She chuckled softly at your begging and her laughter seemed to vibrate against your core. Her fingers hooked on the band of your underwear and she tugged them off quickly, barely giving you a moment to realize that she’d pulled away. 

“Missed this all day,” Ellie groaned as her eyes fall on your pussy. She ran her thumb up and down your slit, spreading your wetness along your folds. Her eyes were trained on you as she began to circle your clit and added more pressure. Your moans grew louder, but you yearned for more. 

“M-More, please,” You gasped and whined. Ellie placed a sweet kiss on your inner thigh and pushed a finger inside your needy cunt. After dating for so long, you would think that your body would be used to Ellie’s touch and how she felt inside of you, but it felt electric every time.  

“Doin’ so good,” She praised you and slid a second finger into you. It took every ounce of her self-restraint to stop herself from completely devouring you at that moment, but she wanted to take her time with you. 

Ellie curled her fingers inside of you, stimulating that sensitive spot deep inside you that made your legs shake with pleasure. Ellie could tell you were close to your orgasm by the way your cries grew louder and how you tugged at her hair desperately. 

She leaned in and ran her tongue along your cunt, moaning as she tasted you. Ellie lapped at your pussy like she was starving, giving special attention to your clit while she continued to finger you. That self-restraint she’d been holding onto had suddenly been thrown out the window as soon as she tasted you. She couldn’t be slow with you, she wanted you to come all over her tongue. 

“Ellie–” You moaned deeply as you felt your climax quickly approaching. 

“I know, I know,” She cooed. Her movements sped up slightly and it was just enough to push you over the edge. With her name on your lips, you let out a long moan and fell back against the table. 

Your orgasm left you somewhat senseless. Your body was tired and spent, but you felt a remaining buzz flowing throughout you. Ellie peppered your inner thighs with small kisses before she finally pulled away and stood up. She licked her fingers clean and looked down at you with a smile. You looked so perfect all splayed out on the kitchen table, Ellie was certain that no meal would ever top this. 

#ellie williams #tlou #tlou 2 #wlw #ellie williams smut #the last of us #ellie the last of us #lesbian #ellie smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut #smut #ellie x reader #tlou ellie #ellie tlou #the last of us game #tlou fic #tlou2

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

A Study of Silence

Summary: Your life of married bliss is failing. A moment of heated arguing finally reveals the reason Natasha is pulling away from you, so you offer her the choice: stay or leave?

Word Count: 862

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: Angst

A/N: I wrote this at 1am when my flatmates set the fire alarm off, so forgive any mistakes lol. It's loosely based on 'Fluorescent Adolescent' by the Arctic Monkeys.

»»————-　★　————-««

Silence. Then the occasional turning of a page. In your mind, there are three types of silences: a comfortable silence, a suspenseful silence, and an awkward silence.

This fell firmly into the third category, but you made no move to change it - wondering instead how and when such an activity – sitting silently in your wife's presence – had turned from comfortable to awkward.

It hadn't happened just in this session: that was doomed to awkwardness from its start - but a month ago? a year ago? It was hard to recall a single moment of comfortable bliss outside of the early days of your relationship.

Everything had seemed so bright: an Avenger falling for a simple mechanic, a match made only in your dreams… though sometimes you wondered if it should ever have gone beyond that. She'd promised to quit her job for you, retire herself to deskwork upon marriage. "I want to do it," she had promised, "my love for you overshadows any job I do, and if this means I'm not spending months away from you and you're not spending months worrying, then it's an easy decision."

You swore your life to her then, showed her your love and your devotion. That love never faded. But where did it go wrong?

"My love?" you said. The redhead didn't look up from her book; you tried to see what it was, but she maintained her senses enough to shield that from your sights. With a sigh, you continued into the silence, "I was thinking maybe we could cook together tonight?"

She looked up now, fingers sightlessly marking the page. "Again? Didn't we do that..." she trailed off, searching for a memory, a recent excuse.

You finish her sentence for her: "last month? Yeah. I thought we could maybe do some bonding this month too, but nevermind."

"Y/N, we can-"

"You're clearly not interested, Nat, I'm not going to force you, so go hang out with your old Avengers buddies again and I'll make dinner alone."

There was a bite to your words that you knew you'd later regret, but in the moment you couldn't bring yourself to care. Fighting had become the only sure fire way to end the stagnant silences, and these days, neither you nor Natasha were afraid to use the method.

"You always do this," Natasha seethed, "they're my friends. I used to spend my every moment with them, living together, working together, everything! And I gave that up for you! You want me to give up even seeing them too? Would that finally be enough?!"

The silence fell again. A fourth type: one of contemplating, one of heated feelings and unwitting confessions and, finally, understanding. You understood. In her anger, Natasha had revealed the secret to it all, where it had all gone wrong.

You softened your voice, speaking quietly as if your wife were an injured animal, easy to startle. "I didn't make you give that up. I don't want you to give up more and I don't want you to blame me for your choices."

She stayed silent, though her jaw tightened and her eyes focused on a point behind you. You didn't have to turn to remember which picture lies there.

"I love you, Natasha," you confessed again, knowing it could be a last confession. "I love you and I want only the best for you. And if you miss the superhero days, the risk, the team, everything... if leaving that and marrying me is the mistake that's making you miserable, then I'm giving you the chance to undo that mistake. I don't want to be the reason you live your life in nostalgia and regret."

You didn't wait for her to respond, what was the point? Her gaze was still fixed on the picture behind you: the team in its heyday, when they were still young and wild and disorganised. She clang to until she got sentimental, forgetting that you had been the one to take the photo, right before Natasha became the first of the group to settle down.

Her response would come soon enough, you knew, so you went to your room and waited. You hoped for the eventual knock on the door, the long awaited conversation, then either the forgiveness or the conclusion. You hoped all through the evening, even as you cooked by yourself, ate by yourself, and slept by yourself.

A night with the Avengers might have been what she needed to make her decision.

Natasha Romanoff came into your life with a burning passion and a humanity to her that few people could ever achieve. You expected it to last forever, but come morning you realised the truth: Natasha Romanoff was a spy born and raised, and no amount of humanity can ever erase that from her.

Her ring was on your bedside table in the morning, the house left in a state of suspended silence. Natasha herself was nowhere to be found, disappearing like a spy, with no words spoken on the matter.

She had made her choice, just as you had made yours.

You loved Natasha too much to keep her; she loved you too little to stay.

»»————-　★　————-««

taglist: @canvascoloredin

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #reader insert #fanfiction #self insert fanfiction #ikan writes

[spiderlyla]

Irrational — Miguel O'Hara

synopsis: miguel finally mans up to ask you out—only for a misunderstanding to insue.

tags: eventual fluff, alchemax scientist!miguel × co-worker!reader, jealousy, misunderstandings, reader's gender is not mentioned (gn reader)

inspired by @general-dweebous 's idea.

Silent and cold. Two words that perfectly described the state of Miguel O'Hara's office. Two words that perfectly described the state he was in.

His eyes were transfixed on the box infront of him—or rather the two boxes infront of him. He'd brought extra food to share today, a habit he only picked up lately, mainly because he never had anyone to share food with until recently. The previously warm boxes were now stale and cold, and so were the empanada's inside of them. Doesn't matter. He lost his appetite, and you weren't going to have lunch with him.

He just sat in his chair. Fingernails—or maybe talons, he was unsure— digging into his palm to the point where little scars formed. His thoughs were all mangled up, as he failed to distract himself from the little interaction that led him to be sitting here in the first place.

It was suppose to go so well. He'd even rehearsed it all the night before.

You'd come up to him at his station just before lunch break with ten minutes, asking him if he'd like to sit with you— you did, he agreed.

The two of you would walk to the cafeteria, you'd tell him all about your incompetent co-workers trying to sound as nice as you could, it was sweet, but he was blunt, rephrasing your words to make it sound meaner than what you probably intended. You would laugh. He would laugh—He did laugh. He noticed that you didn't have the little tupperwear box you get everyday in your hands, maybe you were in a rush? No problem, he already had your share of food ready.

You'd sit at your usual table, you did.

You'd ask him what he's eating, he told you.

It was then he would push the small box towards you, telling you he got you one too. You'd take it and take a bite, and you'd compliment the taste of it, probably asking where he got them. He'd tell you he made them. And he did. He woke up extra early this morning just to make these. You'd probably say how much of an excellent cook he is, and that's when he'd do it. He'd ask if you'd like to come later today for dinner at his. He'd be delighted to cook for you.

That's how it was suppose to go, and he hoped you'd agree—he spent hours telling himself that you would agree just to encourage himself to finally get to do this.

But when he tried to proceed with his plan, everything he'd built up came crashing down on him.

He was about to push the box towards you when a man approached your table. He was unfamiliar to Miguel, he didn't work there, that was apparent by his casual sport attire. He tapped your shoulder and you stood up when you saw him, the look of surprise on your face quickly replaced with an affectionate one.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" The guy held up a box—your box. "You forgot to pack lunch this morning, packed it for you and thought I'd drop it off." He handed you the box with a grin, and when Miguel looked back at you, you had the widest, prettiest smile he'd ever seen.

Packed it for you? You live with this guy? But he remembers the time you invited him to that party you threw during New Year's, there was no indication you lived with someone—let alone another man.

"That's so sweet, Ned, thank you." You tip-toed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. A kiss on his cheek, your hand on his shoulder. A harsh sensation, undescribable, clawed at Miguel's racing heart.

"Don't mention it—Sorry to intruppt your talk though!" The man—Ned's eyes fell upon Miguel, who was looking at his lap, fiddling with his watch. Trying to rationalise this, never reaching a rational conclusion. "You must be Miguel O'Hara right? I hear alot about you—I mean, alot."

"Ned, don't—" You laughed, putting your hands on his chest as to push him away a little. "He's just embaressing me—Ignore him—" Ned laughed too, putting his hands on yours to prevent you.

"I am Miguel, yes." His voice was hoarse, gruff, it was a miracle anything came out at all with that lump he felt in his throat, suffocating the everloving fuck out of him. "If—If you'll excuse me." He got up, picking up his boxes, and immediately heading to the door.

You didn't even come after him, too occupied with laughing to even notice he was gone.

And here he was, sitting all alone, eyes shut as he tried not to remember the scene of your lips on another man's skin. He grunted, hands tangled in his thick black hair.

"Maybe it's not what it seems," A familiar golden glow appeared by his shoulder. "Maybe you misread the situation—"

"There is nothing here to misread, LYLA." He replied sharply. It was unlike him to not try to even make sense of a situation, but what is there to rationalise? You lived with this guy. He packed you lunch because you forgot it and came all the way to Alchemax's headquarters—which by the way, were on the outskirts of Nueva York—just to give it to you.

How stupid of him to think you'd stay single until he gets the courage to ask you out. How foolish of him to think it was a good idea to get his hopes up for once. How incredibly dumb of him to think this would go in his favor, because when did it ever.

"We don't even know who that is! It could be a friend—"

"LYLA, stop." His head snapped towards the floating hologram of his assistant, "You're the one who encouraged me to do this, and it failed before I even got the chance to try. I am not about to make scenarios up just to be let down again."

She ignored him, of course she did. "—I could always do a quick search. I'm sure I can find out who that is—"

"No," His refusal was immediate. Of course, curiosity and jealousy were eating him from the inside, but with you, he wanted to do this right. He would never breach your privacy like he would any other person. "Enough. We're not discussing this anymore." Miguel tapped his gizmo, and LYLA's hologram immediately dissappeared with a loud protest.

The office was queit again, Miguel wondered if you truly hadn't noticed that he was gone at all. Maybe you did notice and were relieved that he was.

Did he truly misread the situation? Or did he misread what he thought the two of you shared?

The brushing of hands when you walked next to each other, the sweet smile you flashed him everytime you saw him, the way you were so touchy around him, always hugging him and putting your hand on his shoulder to comfort him, the way you caught his stare whenever the two of you were in the same lab, that shy smile that would appear on your face and your reddened cheeks.

Was it just him interpreting it all wrong?

His thoughts were quickly intrupted by a cheery knock on his door, a pattern he knew all too well. Just before he could reply, the door swung open, with you waltzing into his office like you always do.

"Hey, I was looking for you everywhere!" Miguel grunted, shuffling with some paper on his desk to make himself look busy. "You went running off—"

"I have work to do." He replied dryly, not raising his head from the seemingly empty papers. You stopped by the door, and he was sure if he looked up, he'd see that cute pout of yours.

"You're not having lunch?" Miguel glanced at the two boxes he set aside and shook his head. "No, you should though."

"Who am I suppose to have lunch with then?"

"Your boyfriend isn't going to keep you company?" He looked up, anticipating your reaction. Your face contorted between confusion and absolute shock, then your eyes lit up. A wide grin made its way onto your lips, and you took a few steps towards Miguel's desk.

"Ned's my brother." You chuckled, tilting your head. Miguel felt his neck and ears heat up. He could practically hear LYLA in his ears, teasing him endlessly about this. How would he even know? You never mentioned a brother.

"Oh, I thought...because he said you—I guess—"

"Are you nervous, Miguel O'Hara?" You teased, and he grunted, rolling his eyes. "Ned is always busy, and always out of the country, but he's on vacation and currently living with me."

Of course, why didn't he think of that?

"Oh."

You giggled, fucking giggled at him. He was seething for the past 20 minutes, at the possibility that another man that wasn't him had you all to himself, only for it to turn out to be your brother.

"Not used to being wrong, huh?" You placed a hand on his fisted ones, and he immediately relaxed. "I rarely am."

"Awh, were you jealous, Miguel?" A scoff escaped his lips, he refused to let you tease him.

And you decided to play nice for once, deciding to let it go just to salvage his crumbling pride. "Anyways, those empanada's you were telling me about—"

"One of them is for you." He intruppted, "I...made it. In the morning. They're cold now."

"We could microwave them."

"Or you could come over and make a fresh batch with me." The words slipped off his tounge before he could think twice, something he often found himself doing whenever he was around you. He was about to apologise for being too bold, but then he looked at you.

With the prettiest smile and most bright eyes he'd ever seen, you nodded. "I'd love to."

Seems like his plan did work after all.

A little off, but still, it worked.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #astv #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara #spider man atsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel o' hara #miguel o #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #alchemax scientist miguel o'hara #alchemax

[monzamash]

to be loved — carlos sainz

carlos sainz x you — “i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.” requested by @dancininseptember masterlist

The short stroll from your office to the apartment never really bothered you. In fact, you typically enjoyed the fresh air and the chance to enjoy the city you loved. But it was early February; rain was threatening the Spanish skies and the frost bitten breeze stung your already tear-filled eyes. It was a crappy end to an even shittier week, your energy wasted on people who didn’t deserve it.

You practically flung yourself through the door of the apartment and shed all remnants of the day – coat, beanie and scarf, all strewn haphazardly, and in that order, on the floor of your small entryway. It took every ounce of energy you had to kick off your heavy boots, each one hitting the wall much harder than you intended. Maybe it was an unconscious way for you to let out frustration, the scuff marks on the white wall a stark reminder of your last straw.

The smell of fresh bread and bolognese sauce hit you as you slunk down the hallway, your tummy grumbling on instinct. You hadn’t eaten since yesterday, a terrible habit you had fallen into lately and Carlos had noticed. He was home more during the cooler months, easily picking up on your little habits that both endeared and worried him. So he made sure, while he was close to you, that you came home to a warm meal every night – because looking after you was his calling in life.

“That smells incredible.”

Carlos briefly glanced over his shoulder and gave you a bright smile before turning down the stove and grabbing a washcloth to clean his hands. You loved him like this; soft and relaxed, in his element. The kitchen was his playground and you remember the sigh of relief that left your lungs when he told you he loved to cook on your first date, because you weren’t particularly gifted when it came to the pots and pans.

“Hope you’re hungry,” He sang, circling the island in the middle of the kitchen to say a proper hello to his beautiful girlfriend, “How was your day?”

A rigid sigh fell from your lips as you fell into his arms, the loving embrace triggering tears to spring to your eyes for the third time today. Carlos held you tight and brushed his hands down your back, comforting you through the sobs wracking your aching body.

“Ay, mi amor,” He soothed, “Breathe for me please.”

Carlos guided you through a couple of deep breaths, chests rising and falling together in synchronicity until your sobs subsided, air finally filling your lungs again. A tight squeeze around your waist brought you back to the man holding you in his arms, worried eyes searching yours for a sign that you were okay as you pulled back and gave him a soft smile.

“I’m okay, I’m sorry.” You sniffled, head shaking.

Carlos tutted as he thumbed away the trail of tears from your face, “Do not say sorry, my love. Talk to me…”

Anger replaced sadness as you told him about how your sister had completely disregarded your feelings for the millionth time, accusing you of only caring about yourself while she’s all alone and stressed about wedding planning. Carlos has managed to get you to sit up on the counter beside him while he finished dinner, but not before pouring you a glass of red wine to nurse while you purged all the negativity from your day.

“She called me a bitch and then uninvited us from the wedding, which by the way I didn’t want to go too to begin with,” You huffed, hands animatedly flying around while he tried to keep up with the drama.

“And all I said to her was that work has been stressful and that us trying for a baby hadn’t been… fruitful, I guess. She flipped out when I said that because her dickhead fiancé doesn’t want kids and she thinks she can change his mind…”

You took a sip of wine and noticed Carlos' eyes rolling like they always did when the topic of your sister came up. He was as sick of her shit as you were, unapologetically scoffing at her selfishness. Making you feel bad when all you needed was someone to confide in was one thing, but lashing out on you was something he couldn’t stand by and watch. He knew he couldn’t do anything right now; maybe he would make a stern phone call tomorrow once the dust had settled.

So instead of getting upset, he put down the wooden spoon coated in the most delicious sauce you had ever tasted and nestled himself between your swinging legs. His warm chocolate eyes stared into your soul as he planted his palms on your thighs, tethering himself to you.

“You know I can take care of you, mi vida,” He said, voice deep and barely above a whisper, “No matter the problem, you won't need anyone but me, I promise.” 

For the first time in weeks, you felt your heart slow down and return to a normal rhythm as Carlos pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. You softly moaned in unison and gripped the grey shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders, pulling him in closer – not that he had any plan on going anywhere.

No, all he wanted was for his girl to feel heard and to be loved because all he needed was you.

a/n — loved writing carlos again. inbox detox is still open !!

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #f1 x reader #monzamashmasterlist #inbox detox

[primofate]

You faint during an argument/disagreement [Genshin Impact] (Part 1)

Summary: You’ve been feeling under the weather for the whole day, you just didn’t bother to tell him nor anyone, thinking that the headache would go away. He doesn’t notice at all due to him getting caught up with some work, or in general just having a bad day himself. 

Notes and credits: Wholly inspired by minejiro.tumblr.com (They’re inactive now, according to the blog, but they wrote a Haikyuu one a while ago and I loved their rendition of it so much that I just had to bring it over to Genshin. I asked them for permission a while ago and they agreed :D)

Characters: Tartaglia, Diluc, Zhongli, gn!reader

Warnings: might have some harsh words/arguments, fainting spells, feeling unwell, panic attacks/hyperventilating maybe, not proofread, you and the genshin character live together, I seriously had trouble writing about what you might argue about with Diluc and Zhongli because these two are usually calm and collected. Not really a disagreement on Zhongli’s part, maybe just a misunderstanding. zhongli changes your clothes but its completely innocent.

Tartaglia

Could have a short-temper, depending on how his day has gone.

He adores you and thinks you’re his whole world but he does get some stressors once in a while, mainly because he works in the Fatui

Could easily overlook things when he has a lot of things on his mind

He comes home today tired and rather annoyed. Something about Dottore not taking his suggestions seriously, and Pierro never taking his side. It must be one of those Harbinger meetings again. He always seemed to be in a sour mood after one.

He hangs his coat on the hanger by the door, kicking his boots off and wanting nothing more than a hot bath, a quiet dinner and spending some rest and relaxation with you. “Y/N?” he calls through the house and you, half awake on your shared bed, stir a little, pushing yourself up with difficulty.

It feels so hot, despite the cold country you were in. “Tartaglia, welcome home. I’m just in the room,” you call out, stilling to hear his response. Tartaglia thought it was a little weird, cause you would usually come up to greet him when he arrived, but he just guessed that you were busy with something in the room. 

“Alright! I’m taking a bath first, love,” he shouts. “Have you eaten?” He asks and you answer after a short pause, mostly because you found it difficult to even concentrate on keeping upright, and you wondered if you could handle preparing dinner today.

“I haven’t, I’ll get it ready when you finish,” Still, maybe you just needed to walk around a little and get some fresh air. So, as he took his time in the bathroom you struggled to make dinner, in the end you only made enough for him, seeing as you didn’t have an appetite today. 

“Here you go,” You smile at him as he dries his hair, putting down the meal in front of him. If he wasn’t busy, he actually cooks a lot for you too, it just so happened that it was your turn today. 

He blinks when he sees that there’s only one set of food just enough for him. He narrows his eyes, a little disappointed that you didn’t seem to be planning on eating with him. He was looking forward to spending a bit of time with you.

“You’re not eating?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, I don’t feel like it,” you simply reply and you hear him scoff a little. 

“Don’t feel like it? Well, that’s okay. Are you at least going to sit and talk with me while I eat?” He looked as if he wanted to vent about something, but your head was really bothering you now.

“...Actually I was just planning on going to bed early today...” You breathe out, your eyes dart up to the ceiling, it looks to be swaying a little. 

“...You know, I wonder why you’re so tired. You had a day off today,” Tartaglia’s voice borders on mocking, as if accusing you of doing nothing all day and yet going to bed earlier than him who was at work till late.

“I’m not feeling well Tartaglia, that’s all,” You quip back with a sigh and move away to get yourself a glass of water. The clink of cutlery against the plate signals to you that he started eating, but not before he mutters a resentful “Suit yourself...” 

You ignore him, having no energy at all to argue and bring back the glass of water with you to the room. You left the bedroom door open, just to get a bit of air circulation, but you stop in your tracks when the walls start to turn into squiggles, your perception of reality starts to distort and you try your best to tell yourself the bed is just there, just a few steps away. 

A sharp pain attacks your temples and you drop the glass, it shattering on the floor just before you yourself come toppling down on your side, blacked out. 

Tartaglia freezes at the sound, he’s midway to taking a bite of the stabbed steak on his fork but he retracts it to call out to you again. “Y/N?” You’ve disappeared into the room already and he can’t see what’s going on, but the sound had alarmed him. He waits a few seconds, before he drops his cutlery and pushes his chair back to stand and check on you.

“Y/N?” He repeats, walking at a leisurely pace over to the room. His mouth falls open at the sight of shattered glass but his throat closes up at your unconscious form. “Y/N?!” He hurries next to you and cradles your upper body in his arms, patting your cheek to get some sort of response from you. “Y/N, hey,” he gently tries to coax you into waking up, but realizes that it’s not working.

Now he’s conscious of the way your face flushes pink, and now it dawns on him that you really weren’t feeling well, your forehead was burning up. He picks you up and sets you down on the bed, calling for a doctor immediately. 

“Are they okay?” Tartaglia asks once the doctor was done checking up on you. The doctor shrugs. “Not to worry, it’s just a simple fever. They’ll be fine with some bed rest,” The relief that spreads through his being is unreal. For a moment he thought it was something serious, you’d never fainted before, and he was also just guilty that he didn’t spot it out sooner. 

When you woke up he was still awake and sitting on a chair next to you, there’s a damp cloth on your forehead and it takes you a moment to piece together what happened. You sighed and closed your eyes again, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out, it was just--” and you started to feel nauseous again. 

Tartaglia gave you a stern look. “Don’t apologize for that, stop thinking too much and rest,” You obeyed as he continues. “You could’ve told me earlier that you were feeling unwell,” he rants. 

“I DID tell you I was feeling unwell, you were just being snappy today,” you state as a matter of factly. That makes him open his mouth then close it again, defeated by your statement. 

“...I know, I’m sorry... That wasn’t...my best moment,” he admits and has a look of regret on his face. You sigh and shake your head a little, used to his tantrums from time to time. He asks you once again, now willing to make up for it and make amends. “Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need anything? You haven’t eaten so I made some food in case you were hungry,” 

And there’s the doting Tartaglia that you knew. The one that always listened to your beck and call, he’s like putty in your hands, just melts at the sight of you. “I’m alright honey, I just need some sleep. Come join me? You must be tired as well,” 

He sighs again, unsatisfied with how little he has done but relents and leans forward to land a kiss on your forehead. “Alright, but wake me up if you feel worse, got it?”

Diluc

Has deep-set issues, particularly when it came to family. 

You’ve always tried to repair his relationship with Kaeya but soon noticed that it probably wasn’t your business, despite Diluc respecting you a lot and putting your opinions in high regard.

He was just a little sensitive when it came to topics like that.

“It was just a suggestion ‘Luc. You don’t have to think too much about it,” Said suggestion was you wanting to spend your birthday with your beloved partner, but also the Knights of Favonius. However, you weren’t really one for eating out or fancy dinners, so you suggested that your birthday lunch could be done in the mansion, essentially suggesting that you wanted to invite them to Diluc’s house. 

Maybe you imposed too much, but Diluc’s face fell the moment that suggestion came out into the open. “You say not to think too much about it but this is something that YOU want, it’s your birthday wish, how can I say no?” he counters and you can feel a petty argument coming up.

Your hand absentmindedly massages your forehead as you sit at the long table, eyes closed and focusing on the soothing sensation. “I have other birthday wishes Diluc, and I’m flexible, we don’t have to do something that you don’t want,”

“And like I said, this is the FIRST suggestion you made, which means that you must like this idea the most,” He crosses his arms over his chest, gaze lingering over you, clearly disappointed. 

“I didn’t mean for it to come off like that, I promise we don’t have to do this. It’s selfish of me to assume that I can use your house for anything I want anyway,” You attempt to give him a small smile, but he looks to be past being nice.

“I wish you had thought about that before saying anything,” He continues, gaze stern. “Instead of spilling it out and making me feel as if I have no choice in the matter,”

“It.was.a.suggestion.” You say in between grit teeth. This wasn’t helping the intense headache you were having right now.

“Clearly you haven’t been listening at all,” Your eyes snap up to look at Diluc, he had never taken that tone towards you before. He sounded extremely displeased. “If you MADE the suggestion, then it means that it’s something that you WANT. Is this something that’s not clear to you?”

You wince at the tone he takes, somehow a part of you starts to unravel, as if you feel like you don’t know this person in front of you. “Diluc, that’s not--”

“And for someone like me, who only wants the best for you, I have to follow every wish that you desire,” there’s a sarcastic tone to his voice, like the tone he takes towards Kaeya and it somehow bruises you so well. 

He starts to look as if he hates you, or was that your imagination? His mouth keeps moving, but none of the words register in your mind. You can’t grasp the fact that Diluc is angry at you. Your usually sweet and subtle Diluc is gone. It suddenly feels like the ground under you is falling apart. You stand up all of a sudden and feel your breath waver.

Diluc cuts his speech off, watching as you anchor yourself to the table with both arms. Your breathing is deep and your hands are trembling. “...Y/N?” You shake your head, unable to answer him because all you can feel is the sense of doom, as if the world was ending. Your peaceful world with Diluc shattered all because of a selfish request you made. 

“Y/N,” Diluc stands when he finally realizes somethings wrong, you’re sweating and you’re breathing so heavily, as if you couldn’t catch your breath. He takes you into his arms hoping that it was some form of comfort. “Y/N, deep breaths, you’re fine, love,” 

But you go limp in his arms and it takes him a huge amount of self control not to panic himself. He races up the stairs to put you on the bed, opening the windows to give you some air and asking one of the passing by maids to call a doctor. 

Sure enough as Diluc describes what happened the doctor confirms that you were probably overwhelmed and panicked, in addition to running a small fever. He feels like trash after that, and almost wants to stab himself for engaging in such petty squabble with you. 

When you wake up you hardly remember what happened, until you see Diluc’s concerned face looking at you and you can’t help but wince at the expression you remember on him. You almost can’t bring yourself to look at him and instinctively turn your face away. 

That breaks his heart into pieces. “Y/N, I...” he sits at the edge of the bed next to you, carefully placing a hand on your shoulder. “Is it ok if you look at me, love?” He gently requests and you blink, unsure of why you were so deterred by him. 

“I don’t mean to look away, it’s just...I don’t want you to hate me,” because that’s the look you remember on his face, like he despised you. 

You hear his intake of breath. “Y/N I can never hate you,” he explains. “I...I apologize, I should have dropped the matter and listened to you but I was...I only wanted to have your wishes come true, but I didn’t know how to do that with your request, so I...” he paused a little, and realized that the more he talked the more it sounded stupid. He opts to change his direction. “...I won’t ask for your forgiveness but...please, let me take care of you,” 

Diluc had always been sincere with his feelings towards you, and you knew that was hard for him. In some senses you understood where he was coming from, and you also played a part in the little disagreement. You sigh and your eyes easily glide towards him. “...It’s alright ‘Luc, let’s not dwell on it anymore, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow...I’m a little tired right now,”

It seems as if he breathes a sigh of relief at your nickname for him, that brought a little bit of normalcy back into the situation. “Of course,” he agrees and brushes your forehead with his hand. “You’re still running a fever, I’ll wake you up when it’s time to take your medications,” 

“You’re not sleeping with me?” You ask and he takes a moment to answer.

“...Not yet, I...I’m not all that tired yet,” 

In reality, as you slept peacefully on your shared bed he tenderly looks at you and drowns in his regret, unable to believe that he had pushed you over the edge and thinking over and over again that he doesn’t deserve you in his life, but he will definitely fight to be better and worthy of you.

Zhongli

Rarely gets angry and you rarely have arguments or disagreements with him because he’s always wiling to communicate or see other people’s point of view.

It doesn’t mean that he never gets displeased though, he’s just good at hiding it or concealing it with better sounding words.

Zhongli sometimes likes to make trades with the people of Liyue, mostly for valuable ore, artifacts or keepsakes. When he does this he usually has you to tag along (mostly because he can’t keep track of how much mora he has and relies on you to guide him through that part)

“Ready, darling?” Zhongli asks, his hand placing itself on the small of your back. You’re jolted to attention and you look up at him with a smile. 

“Mmhmm, I have our balances and notes ready,” It was like a small hobby of yours and his, collecting treasures and valuable artifacts. It was really mostly his thing, you just loved watching him converse with others and bargain his way through, even though he wasn’t good at it. That’s what you were there for. 

Today, however, you’re a little out of it because of a dull pain on the whole front part of your head. It somewhat feels as if you’d been punched in the nose, and the pain was resonating upwards to your forehead. It was a strange feeling, but you pushed through it and thought that it wasn’t a big deal. 

Stepping out of your home you instantly realized that this was not going to be a good day. The sun was high in the sky and it was sweltering hot, you were already sweating 5 minutes into walking. Luckily, the man you were trading with opted to meet at a nearby teahouse so you arrived and sat down. The only unfortunate thing was that the seating was outdoors, and so you couldn’t completely escape the heat.

The man greeted the two of you, and invited you to sit. The talks started at once, with Zhongli first relaying a wonderful story about the artifact the man possessed. Frankly you were hardly listening, all you could focus on was how uncomfortable the sweat running down your neck was, for a moment you thought to excuse yourself, but that was strange since you just arrived. 

You toughed it out, and tried to keep up with the conversation, opening the notebook on the table as the servers continued to pour tea. 

“100,000 mora is not a bad price,” You heard Zhongli state, and that was usually your cue to follow up on your approval or disapproval, but this time, it took you longer than usual to think. 

“Ah, um...” You looked at the notes in front of you, you barely wrote anything and the letters were starting to look a little blurred. “A 100,000 mora is fine indeed, but since it’s a little aged and older now, it wouldn’t be impossible to lower the price down to 80,000, right, good sir?” You forced a smile.

Zhongli has a good eye, and observes that you’re rather out of your element today, though he’s unsure what the problem was, so he continues the talk further. 

Somewhere down the conversation the two of them look at you, and you blink back at them. There are questioning gazes on their faces and you realize that they had asked you a question. 

“Oh...I...apologize, could you repeat that? I must have missed the question,” The man chuckles and talks, but you could only see his mouth moving and there was no sound except the ringing in your ears. The heat was getting to you.

“...Y/N...Y/N,” It was Zhongli’s voice that snaps you out of your stupor, he’s looking at you with concealed worry, but you also see a hint of disappointment there. “...Perhaps it’d be better if you went home first, I’ll put you up to speed on my and the good sir’s conversation later on,” It sounded as if he was trying to get rid of you, but he was merely worried about your lack of concentration today.

“...Yeah, alright,” You agree with a weak smile and bow towards the two of them, gathering your notes and balances when Zhongli stops you. “Leave those, I’ll handle them,” he says it rather curtly, but you nod your head and turn to leave, feeling a little useless. 

You took two steps and feel the world spinning around you, bright spots appear in your eyes and it was hard to see anything at all. You force yourself to move forward, not wanting to pass out in the middle of a teahouse, but your fears came true when you trip over your feet and come tumbling down the cobbled pavement of Liyue. It was just so incredibly hot, and your head was killing you with pulses of pain and discomfort. 

Zhongli rises to his feet in a hurry, striding towards you and picking you up in his arms easily, careful not to jostle you. Your eyes are shut tight, grimace on your face and it was clear that you were in pain. “Beloved, tell me what’s wrong,” there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, and people around you were staring, though you weren’t aware of it. 

You whimper in response, the heat is still beating down on you and the sun’s rays were not helping. “It’s...I can’t breathe properly, it’s...It’s too hot,” you writhe in his hold, just wanting some form of breeze but it was also a windless day today. 

Zhongli moves fast, he grabs the notes you left, excuses himself from the good sir and makes it home in a minute. He lays you down on the bed and grabs water and a newspaper from the living room. He lays the glass on the bedside tale and starts fanning you with the folded newspaper, watching your flushed, uncomfortable expression. 

He feels disappointed only at himself for not being mindful enough of your condition, sometimes he forgets how fragile humans really are. “Drink some water, please,” he coaxes you, knowing that it would help your overheated system. He’d wanted to get you out of your current clothes as well, and have you change into looser and cooler ones. 

“Y/N I’m going to help you out of your clothes and into new ones, would that be alright?” He’s been intimate with you a thousand times, so this was not something he was unfamiliar with. Only this time he was far too worried instead of feeling intimate.

When that was done, you had easily fallen asleep and he had called for a doctor, just to make sure everything was fine. Heat exhaustion was the answer that he got, and he was given a few home remedies and tips as well as medication to help regulate your temperature a little better. 

He spent the whole time silently scolding himself at the fact he missed the tell tale signs. You being distracted during the whole trade was already a sign and yet he thought you were just tired. He sighed and closed his eyes as he sat on a chair next to the bed, feeling that he had really failed in taking care of you today. 

“’Li?” Your voice snaps his eyes open and causes him to lean forward towards you. 

“Is there something you need, darling?” he asks, the rare expression of worry etched on his face. You shake your head, already feeling better now that you were indoors. 

“...Sorry we couldn’t go through with the--”

“Y/N, please don’t apologize for that,” his stern voice stops you, but his gaze softens and he takes your hand in his, cradling it as if it was porcelain. “There isn’t anything that’s more important to me than your health, do you understand?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for you to answer. “However small or slight it is, please let me know next time if you feel unwell or uncomfortable. You have to promise me this...”

You can’t help but smile at how serious he sounds, but you completely understood. “Okay, ‘Li, I promise to let you know,”

He sighs, and presses his lips onto your knuckles. “Thank you,”

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#genshin impact #zhongli x reader #tartaglia x reader #diluc x reader #diluc angst #zhongli angst #tartaglia angst #diluc fluff #tartaglia fluff #zhongli fluff #childe angst #childe x reader #childe fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin

[luvhughes43]

birthday | quinn hughes

luvhughes43 masterlist🌙

request: can you write an angsty one for quinn where he forgets your birthday because he’s busy with hockey and you fight about it and then you give him the silent treatment the next day and he tries to make it up it up you 

note: i changed it a little bit! 

word count: 1.2k words

you waited all day with baited breath, wondering when your boyfriend of three years would acknowledge your birthday. usually, depending on both of your work schedules, quinn would take you to your favourite cafe for breakfast and then later in the day he would cook one of your favourite dishes for dinner. In between meals, you’d spend the day doing whatever you wanted, which usually just meant going for a walk and maybe to the mall.

you woke up early and got yourself dressed and ready for the day. quinn was already gone to the gym which wasn’t unusual, so you scrolled through your emails while you waited for him to come home. 

quinn didn't come home till noon. 

“hey babe,” quinn greeted you quickly, pecking your cheek before he rushed into your shared bedroom. you swivel around on the bar stool you were sitting on, eyes following quinn as he jogged from your bedroom and into the bathroom. 

when he reemerged from the room, bag in hand, you frown. “what are you doing?”

“the guys are going to this new place.. some new gym downtown”

“oh,” you deflate, “weren’t you just at the gym tho?” 

“yeah but babe, this one has an ice bath!” quinn explains enthusiastically, as if the addition of an ice bath should outweigh the excitement that was your 24th birthday. 

“right…” 

“we're not working out or anything. just checking the place out. It's good for team building” he adds.

you stare blankly at him, wishing that this is just some elaborate joke and that he has a plan for your birthday. 

“right well, i’ll see you later!” quinn flashes a quick smile as he leans down to kiss your cheek again. 

“bye…?” 

quinny: going out for dinner! so sorry we didn't get to spend any time together today. wanna do dinner tomorrow night?

quinny: the teams really getting on good! I think we’ve got a close group here

it was 6pm, you were alone, and in approximately 10 minutes you would officially be 24. how great is this? you thought sarcastically. you were about to be 24, in a too nice apartment, with a boyfriend who completely forgot about you. 

you pulled your cookies out of the oven, dropping the tray on top of the stove with a clatter. tears sprung to your eyes as you pulled out a small pack of glittering candles. you didn't even get an invite to quinns dinner tonight. 

you watched your candles go out slowly while you imagine how you should've spent the day. Happy birthday to me… 

“hey baby, what did you do all day?” quinn asked as he slipped into bed next to you. his alarm clock had blinded you with the time, 11:24, lit up in a cutting shade of red. he tried to hold your gaze, but you turned over. he had actually forgotten.  

quinn grabbed at your shoulder, but you shrugged him off. “I’m tired,” you whispered through the ball in your throat. if quinn talked about his day, you might actually cry.

“what's wrong?” quinn asked, genuinely concerned. he sat up in bed, reaching over and flicking his lamp on. 

“I’m not talking about this tonight”

“well, no. if you're going to say something then say it. what did i do wrong this time?” you rolled around to face him just as he finished his sentence with an eyeroll. 

“excuse me?” you were seeing red. 

“just tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it. did i leave a sock on the floor?” he jokes, quickly surveying the room and noticing that you cleaned earlier. 

you sat up in bed. “you're such an asshole! you know that right?” 

“woah! no need to get angry! i just wanted to go to bed. Its late.” 

“yeah well, i wanted to celebrate my birthday with my boyfriend today so i guess we don't always get what we want, huh?” your voice is venomous as you climb out of bed. you rip your pillow off the bed with every intention to sleep in the guest room. 

quinns shocked expression was almost comical. his eyes wide, eyebrows raised, and mouth slightly agape as he finally realized what was bothering you. with how busy his new schedule was due to being captain, he had completely forgotten about you.

“y/n don't go! I’m so sorry!” quinn kicks the comforter away from him as follows you down the hallway. 

“I don't want to talk to you right now,”

“baby, please! I swear I didn’t mean to forget-” quinn started but you abruptly cut him off. 

“i don't want to hear it! I waited for you all day! I shouldn't have to remind you when my birthday is! We talked about it literally last week!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you!” quinns words fell on deaf ears as you slammed the guest bedroom door in his face. 

as soon as the door was locked, you let all your emotions of the day out. your sad uber eats delivery, raw cookies, the moping around… quinn. 

quinn stood on the other side of the door, face in between his hands as he listened to you cry. 

the next morning, quinn was on good boyfriend behaviour. he had bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, made you breakfast, and had a birthday card waiting at the table for you. 

you rubbed at your eyes tiredly as you made your way into the kitchen. you had gotten absolutely no sleep last night, and you were still upset at quinn. 

quinn watched you in silence as he set the last piece of french toast in his pan. you glanced up at him before averting your gaze towards your gifts. 

To Y/n, 

Happy 24th Birthday. I love you beyond words. 

Quinn

“Quinn,” you sighed as you set the card back on the table. 

“It’s a shitty card I know,” you can’t help the small smile that graces your lips . “I’m so sorry. I called in sick today.. we can do something or you can do whatever, its up to you! I just really want you to know that i’m sorry” he sets the fresh piece of french toast onto a plate before sliding it over to you. 

“I know you're sorry,” you say, stepping over and into quinns open arms. you stand there for a minute, quinn softly rubbing your back while you lay your head on his shoulder. “I just felt really awful”

quinn hums to acknowledge what you were saying. “I know. I don't know what was wrong with me”

“you have new responsibilities q. you're going to be busy with the team” you put his thoughts into words and it was his time to sigh. 

“Still. There’s no excuse” quinn hugs you tighter. “I love you”

“I love you too” you whisper into the side of his neck, arms tightening around him. 

It wasn't okay that he had forgotten, but at least he was making an effort to fix it.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

part 1, part 3, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: cursing, maybe a little bit of suggestive language.

Word count: 2079 words.

Having Katsuki as a roommate proved to be not that bad. He was almost never home apart from most evenings, and when he was home, he minded his own business.

It’s not like he didn’t acknowledge you to be under his same roof, he was a decent guy, even if he swore a lot.

After sleeping in the guest room for a month, he painted it like he said he would at the beginning, and it took him 3 days. He had to sleep on the couch to not inhale the fumes, and you heard him cursing every morning.

“Can you keep it down? Jeez, it’s 7 am” you say coming out of your room, having heard the commotion in the living room.

“You have to change this shit of a couch. My back hurts so fucking much. My feet don’t even fucking stay on the couch while I sleep ‘cause of how fucking small it is” he barks at you.

“Not my fault you’re big” you say yawning, while rubbing your eyes and going straight towards the coffee machine. You hated having early lectures.

He scoffs. You widen your eyes, shooting him a mean look.

“I meant to say you’re tall” you add.

“Huh? And what would even be the other meaning? Freak” he says flipping you off and sitting himself at the table.

“Whatever” you mumble, putting your coffee in a cup.

“Give me some” he says stretching his hand.

“Make it yourself, big guy” you reply, sticking your tongue out and going towards your own room.

“OI! And here I was about to make you breakfast in exchange” he loudly says.

You turn around and smile at him sweetly. “Roomieeee you didn’t have toooo” you say, trying to hug him.

You know he hates physical contact. He told you so after you accidentally touched his hand passing him the salt one day at dinner. He jumped out of his chair like he was burned by your touch.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU GREMLIN!”.

Meanwhile, things at work could be going better. Your manager came back the day after your talk with Kirishima, and saying that she was pissed off and nervous at the same time would be an understatement.

For the weeks after, she was nicer than she ever was with the clients, but meaner with you and your colleagues. Bitch.

One day you’re cleaning the milk machine when Momo comes behind you.

“I heard the boss came to know about her little escapades and he wasn’t happy” she whispers in your ear.

You throw her a sneaky look before admitting “it might be my fault”.

Momo gasps. “What? Why haven’t you told me anything?” she whisper yells now.

“Shh! It happened last month. You know the guy with the spikey red hair?” you ask her, and she nods.

“Apparently, he’s the boss’s right hand. He told me the boss needed her and I told him she left” you calmly explain.

“I hope she doesn’t come to know it was you who told him that. She’s already making our life a living hell” she sighs.

“Whatever” you say rolling your eyes. “I’m clocking out, see you tomorrow?”.

“As always, babe”.

While you’re going out, you shoot a text to your new roommate. You’re feeling lazy, but you don’t want to feel lazy alone.

You: ordering takeout right now. Do you want something?

Katsuki (roommate): who dis

You: Katsuki are you for real?

You: I’m your roommate

You: you didn’t even save my number?

Katsuki (roommate): wtv

Katsuki (roommate): get me wings

Katsuki (roommate): extra spicy

You: sorry, who’s this???

Katsuki (roommate): petty bitch

Katsuki (roommate): im locking the door

You: I’m calling the firefighters down the street and you’re gonna pay for the new door then

Katsuki (roommate): just get me fkn wings woman

You roll your eyes. This man is insufferable.

“What are you doing Saturday night?” you say while munching on your chips on the couch.

Katsuki is cooking dinner for the both of you. He’s been living with you for the past 4 months now. You’ve grown accustomed to his antics, and he’s done the same with yours. For example, he knew how you tended to overcook his eggs. And since he hated that, he cooked them himself, just like he was doing right now.

“Hopefully not seeing your ugly face” he grumbles. He watches you over his shoulder and puckers his lips. “Why are you so fucking disgusting? I always find crumbs of everything on that fucking couch”.

You roll your eyes. “Just answer the question, Bakugou”.

“Not gonna be home. I have to run errands at work. You bringing some scum over? I’m not cleaning stains on top of your shitty crumbs on that couch”.

He’s not paying attention to what you do anymore, cutting up vegetables.

“And I’m the disgusting one? Ew” you cringe. “Ochaco and I wanted to have girl’s night. It’s been a while since we’ve done that, but her roommates are at home”.

“Short girl, brown hair, round face?” He asks.

“Yeah”. You’re surprised he remembers, but it’s true that you’re basically always calling her.

“Don’t mind. When’s your next shift? You’re next on the “cleaning the bathroom” list”. He adds.

You barely ever talk about work: he said that he’s some type of accountant and he knows you’re some kind of barista. After all, you both don’t care about what the other does if you both still pay rent on time.

You like these little moments you have with him. They don’t happen that often, but it’s like you’re bonding over time. He doesn’t look like he thinks the same, though. Most of the time he voices that you’re “pissing him the fuck off with all your stupid fucking questions”.

“Tomorrow morning, and then on Sunday. It’s weird now that my ex-manager isn’t around anymore, our schedules are much more organised. I wonder why she got fired” you say thoughtful.

Katsuki stiffens up. Your manager has been fired the same week he fired Camie? Must be a coincidence, a lot of extras are shitty workers anyways. He shrugs it off.

He turns abruptly to face you and he scares you so bad you throw the chips in the bowl lying on your lap on your face. He laughs like a maniac.

“Why did you do that?! I get it, you’re a clean freak! Okay! I’ll clean the damn bathroom!” You angrily say.

“Curry is ready, rat” he says, wiping his tears.

“Great, now I’m a rat too?”. Katsuki has this bad habit of always forgetting names and just giving everyone mean nicknames.

“With all those cheese chips on your face? Yes, dumbass” and he starts laughing again.

“It’s all your fault!” you whine, and then help him set the table. You might be annoyed, but you know his curry is bomb.

You’re so happy to be free from Camie’s claws that you and Ochaco drink more than you normally do on Saturday night.

You’re both lying lazily on your bed when she’s telling you about her new boyfriend. He’s the same guy from that one physics assignment (which, by the way, you didn’t fail), and she calls him Deku.

“I swear you’d like him Y/N. He’s so shy, but his arms are so biteable” she dreamily sighs.

You look up at the ceiling before answering “and what’s the correlation between any of the statements you just made?”.

She throws you a punch. “Why are you lucid still? Just… blabber!” she complains.

You chuckle. “I’m so getting an aspirin for tomorrow morning, for both me and you. Just go under the covers and sleep while I’m gone, okay?”.

She nods and you stand up, wobbling towards your kitchen.

“You know, you still haven’t delved into how good or bad things are going with your new roommate” she suddenly says. “You know I need the details”.

You lean on the wall next to your door for some stability before thinking about it.

“He’s good, I guess. We talk here and there when we’re both home, he told me he’s enrolled in economy. He seems rough but he knows how to cook some bomb ass curry, so I’ll keep him” you sluggishly reply. Damn, you really drank too much.

“Yeah Y/N you’ve told me this much. But do you find him hot? Did any of you just enter the bathroom not knowing the other was in it?” your best friend mumbles.

“He locks the door before doing anything” you roll your eyes, then wince because it has hurt your head.

“He’s mean, but he takes the time to be a good roommate I guess? I’d like to know him more than he lets others know, yeah, but he’s not very talkative. To be honest, I think that he’s scared to let people in. I’m probably too invasive for him” you ramble on.

“Did you even hear what I said?” you ask after the silence stretches too long, but the only things replying to your question are your best friend’s snores.

You sigh, then continue going to your kitchen.

It takes a while for you to find the medicine, and when you do, you hear your front door being opened.

With your mind still hazy, you recognise Katsuki’s figure.

“Hi” you tell him.

“Hello? God, you reek. You’re becoming a rat more and more each day” he roughly says while getting his coat off and on the hanger.

“How was work?” you continue, ignoring his comment.

He looks you up and down. He thinks you look kinda cute with your cheeks tinted pink and your hair ruffled, but he’s really tired. “Good, mind your fucking business though. I’m gonna sleep”.

You look hurt for a second, then relax your features. He always answers this way.

You take a good look at him. The light that enters from the window behind your couch makes his face barely visible; with the moonlight as your only aid, you take a moment longer than usual to just stare at him. Broad, blonde, big shoulders, a light scowl on his face, red eyes that seem to follow your every move. Maybe, in his next life, he could be a hero.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, really pretty?” you stumble out.

He looks at you like you’ve just said the dumbest thing ever.

“What the fuck are you saying? Just let me go to sleep and go do whatever the fuck you were doing before”.

“I said you look really fucking hot, Katsuki” you repeat, kind of annoyed. “It’s not like I asked you to cut your hand and offer your blood for a sacrifice, fuck. Why do you have to be so rude?” you spit out.

He’s surprised. “That’s not the words you used the first time. Pretty and hot don’t mean the same thing” he says, faking that he hasn’t heard your outburst, while stepping closer to you.

“Whatever” you mumble.

He stops in front of you. Maybe he’s been kind of rude lately because the situation at work hasn’t been the best. He fired Camie because he repeatedly heard she wasn’t capable of doing anything good on top of being mean to her colleagues, but finding another manager was stressing him out. He wanted to fire her as soon as he came to know her behaviour the first time, but Kirishima said neither of them had enough time to deal with her father. As much as this infuriated him, he was right. They were in their last year, and university wasn’t gonna finish itself.

You’re looking up at him with a scowl. “Let’s both go to sleep, m’kay? You don’t know what you’re saying” he says, nicer than any other time he talked to you. In the back of your mind, you notice he isn’t cursing anymore.

You keep on mumbling something and almost trip on your feet trying to get to your room.

You’re about to fall when he picks you up bridal style and goes to get you in your room himself.

Just before you fall asleep in his arms (how strong is he? He’s not even straining) you put your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks, sorry, I’m really drunk. I didn’t want to invade your privacy” you say.

He just shushes you up before telling you to sleep.

And just before you pass out, you notice he smells faintly like coffee.

#bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou fic #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #and they were roommates #barista au

[gtgbabie0]

Hello!! I requested the First Kiss story and I cannot emphasize how much I absolutely loved it 😭♡ It was so soft and fluffy omg </3

Another idea I had was Leon catching you wearing one of his clothes for the first time and he thinks it fits you perfectly even tho it's oversized or something like that :00

Tysm and have a good day/night!! <33

Is that mine?

{Leon’s first time seeing you wearing his clothes}

SOBBING!! thank you for requesting again my love!! 💕💕

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Leon Kennedy doesn’t hate without reason, and a good reason at that, it’s safe to say that he hates working late, and he hates being away from you, but when he walks into the house to be met with you in a pair of shorts and one of his shirts, well, he can practically feel the hatred leave his body.

It might just be his new favourite sight, the way his shirt hangs on against your body, how the fabric drapes off your shoulder ever so slightly, he thinks he might just lose it completely.

“You’re finally home!” Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you pull him into you, his head resting against the crook of your neck.

It’s such a small thing, but the thought of you picking out one of his shirts and putting it on just makes something inside him tingle, and it renders him completely speechless.

“I cooked up some dinner, there’s leftovers in the fridge whenever you’re ready” You let him know with the sweetest tone he’s ever heard and surely you’ve got to know what you’re doing.

Your hands gently cup his face and your thumb graze against his cheek, and hum softly at the feeling of his slight stubble, and before you can skip off into the kitchen, his hands grab for your hips pulling you back into his arms.

“Is that mine?” A stupid question, he obviously knows it’s his, it’s so very clearly his.

You look up at him, “Oh, yeah I missed you today so I just...” You trail off your hands motioning to his shirt you’re wearing, and he can’t help the smirk that splays across his lips.

His hands grasp at your sides, dipping under the shirt as he pulls you impossibly closer, and his heart skips a beat at the idea of you missing him, rummaging through his draws for a shirt, his shirt.

You giggle as his hands run over your belly then to your back, gentle fingers grazing along your naked skin, as he leaves soft kisses against your jaw down to your neck.

“You should’ve called me sweetness, I would’ve left work early” he whispers into your neck, god he’d missed you so much.

Your fingers weave through his hair as he continues to pepper your soft skin with his warm kisses, “I can’t do that Leon, your work is important” you tell him feeling a little breathless at his loving actions.

“Not as important as you are angel” You go giddy at his words.

His eyes flicker over your body for the fifth time and there’s an odd sense of pride that settles in his chest, you’re wearing his shirt, and he just can’t seem to shake the feeling, and maybe that’s why his hands are still roaming your body.

“You look so fucking good in my clothes, you should wear them more often” he smiles as he nuzzles further into your neck, and you chuckle hearing his stomach grumble in protest, he was hungry.

You try to push away from him but it’s pointless as he just holds you tighter, “Come on, you need to eat baby” you giggle as you guide him to the kitchen with him practically glued to your side.

He stands behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder whilst you dish up his dinner, “Leon, what’s going on you with?” You chuckle as his lips trail down your neck lingering on the sensitive parts, and you squirm at the soft feeling.

“Nothings wrong, I just wanna be close” he mumbles against your skin, “I like it when you wear my clothes” he adds, just above a whisper.

You giggle as you awkwardly move to the table to set his plate down, “Yeah I gathered that baby” you smile as he sits down on a chair, and before you even have time to turn around to get him a drink his hands are already grasping at your hips.

“Come sit” he says patting his thigh with a hopeful look in his eyes, “We didn’t get to have dinner together” he looks up at you with a smile and you don’t miss the almost playful look that flashes through his eyes.

“I’m not sitting on your lap while you eat Leon” you chuckle feeling a little bad at the way his shoulders drop ever so slightly, “I’ll sit next to you, just let me get you a drink,” you tell him, brushing his fringe from his eyes and he nods with a grateful smile.

You get him a drink before taking a seat next to him and his hand immediately rests on your thigh as if out of instinct, “You already ate right?” He asks, and you nod with a smile watching as he eats, and you both sit there talking about your days, with his hand soothing against your thigh, and he doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, you take a mental note to wear his shirts more often.

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#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fic #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy re4 #re4 leon #re4 remake #resident evil leon #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x you #resident evil fluff

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (8)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Bedroom arrangements... You have to sort them out soon.

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Would you stop staring at me? It's borderline creepy." You turned behind you, seeing Dottore and Sandrone peering from the doorway.

They had been doing this since you allowed the Harbingers to get comfortable. Some of them in your opinion had been too comfortable considering the current circumstances... But other than that, everything had been going shockingly smoothly.

Well, until you realised none of them could cook using modern technology.

So here you are now, cooking for 12 people with food you definitely couldn't afford everyday.

"You won't let me delve into machines of this century, like 'The Television'. Therefore, you will allow me to study what you're doing..."

"I'm cooking, you fucking weirdo."

"I do not see anywhere that could possibly let out heat, surely a fire is required to cook food?" Dottore argued.

"Just because electricity isn't hot, doesn't mean other materials can't change the temperature."

"I see... So you have an infinite source of electricity which is cooking your food. Then conducting that electricity with a material, perhaps a type of conductive ore, to warm up that pot you placed on that flat slab. To be able to do that... You truly must be powerful and knowledgeable."

"...It's just science and mechanics bro-- and it's not a 'flat slab'! It's a hob."

"Heeeeey, when will the food be ready? I'm starving over here!" Childe whined, entering the kitchen and walking past the two peepers.

Oh my god. This is the fifth time he's said that.

"Ask me that one more time and I'll pour this boiling water over your head."

"How long do you expect us to wait?" Pantalone walked up to you.

"Taking your time as usual, mortals truly are slow." Scaramouche rolled his eyes.

...Maybe it was too early to say things had been going smoothly earlier.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Getting everyone to sit at the table together proved to be a challenge.

The few who did so without complaint soon got up and left when you came back with more willing people, and some refusing to cooperate even when you got Pierro to help you out.

And then you had fuckers like Capitano insisting he 'guards the house' as if it's a fucking castle or private expensive estate.

"I do not see the point in sitting to eat if there could be danger lurking around every corner."

"This is my house. There won't be any danger unless it sneaks in from outside." You tried to convince him, truly you did.

You were so close to getting everyone to sit down. He's the last harbinger you needed... and the dinner is still warm too!

"Your argument is weak and insulting. I have offered to protect your home, and protect your honour. Yet, you force me to move away?" He questions you, his voice showing unfiltered offense.

Well, if he puts it that way.... I suppose he's doing me a favour, he thinks he is in his mind at the very least. If I challenge him I think he'll grow hostile and refuse further...

"Please," You said after a short while of thinking. "Please join us at the table. I promise the moment you finish eating you can return to your duties, Lord Capitano."

If I remember correctly, most if not all Fatui soldiers respected him due to his loyalty towards his soldiers, no matter what age or gender. He would spend his time for them after a battle, and would make sure everyone was healthy and ready for the next day.

Of course, this couldn't possibly be the full truth, he's a Fatui Harbinger! I doubt he got the first rank by just handing cakes to people.

Besides, this was all from memory. If things turned for the worst, you could always google some theories and knowledge. Or...! Or, you could wait for the game to update! Surely more would be revealed there?

"Even if I... joined you for dinner... I wouldn't dare eat." He sighed after thinking about your words.

"Why? Ohhhhh! It's because of your mask, right?" You suddenly realised.

You were just being insensitive all along! How did it take you this long to come to the conclusion he doesn't take it off?

"Could you please still join? I won't pressure you to eat, I promise." You smiled at him.

You heard a deep sigh, then he slowly nodded.

"When the first person finishes eating, I'll return here."

Wooohoo! Finally, that took way longer than you would have liked. You did lie a bit though, you were going to lock the front door so he couldn't just stand in the middle of it anymore.

It was beginning to get a bit cold in the house, and you didn't feel like hearing extra complaints from a certain banker...

You led him towards the dining room, and when you finally arrived, every single harbinger was looking at the two of you with boredom present on their faces.

"Took you long enough." Scaramouche scoffed with his arms crossed. "Why did you even make us sit together anyway?"

"When you go hungry, don't expect me to make you food then."

"They're kidding right? I don't have to eat to survive, unlike some of these mortals." He rolled his eyes.

"It's still polite, show some etiquette." Pantalone lightly scoffed in his direction, a smile present on his face.

"This all looks rather lovely." He complimented you, watching you sit down at the head of the table, opposite of Pierro.

"Thank you, but please don't compliment my cooking. This is the first time I've actually cooked a proper meal."

You didn't actually cook this. You just took all the noodles you had left in your personal cupboard and combined them into one boiling pot.

You were surprised Dottore and Sandrone didn't notice, especially since they were focusing so intently on you.

"Seriously? You're one talented chef! The noodles you made are perfect, just as good as the ones I've tried in Liyue!" Childe praised you, taking the fork on the side of his plate and dragging the noodles up to eye level.

"Wait a minute... Why has everyone else got chopsticks besides me!?" He suddenly realised.

"Because I need to get rid of them, I'm sick of my cupboards piling up with these shit ones. Plus, I'm aware you still can't use them."

Speaking of your personal and reusable chopsticks, you left them in the kitchen.

"I'm excusing myself from the table to get my own chopsticks since I forgot to grab my personal pair. If I come back and see any of you out of your chairs, I'm kicking you out of my house.

"You're not in any position to say--"

"STAY IN YOUR FUCKING CHAIR."

"Alright, alright! Psh, they can't take a joke."

"If you don't want to use the chopsticks I've provided, you may use the forks I placed in the middle of the table." You added in, almost forgetting that part.

Some harbingers let out a sigh of relief.

...I'll not question that.

You stood up and pushed your chair in, walking to the kitchen and grabbing your chopsticks with a special pattern.

Now is the time to take a deep breath, relax, prepare a couple questions you want to ask and get these Harbingers out of your house.

You've gotten too fearful. They killed your family, your neighbours, your friends. You should never forget that fact, you can't fight them or resist in fear of being killed. But, you can learn how to survive with them.

Take another deep breath. Hide your fear as best you can.

"I'm back!" You announced, a smile present on your face as you sat down where you left off.

You watched each Harbinger eat the food you prepared respectfully, some with small smiles and others looking as bored as earlier.

"So...." You started, nervously stirring your noodles.

"You want to ask questions, correct?" Pierro interrupted your collected thoughts, a sigh erupting from his lips.

"It's obvious that's why you grouped us up together, it's downright clear you know some of us can't eat or don't like to."

"Well, now that you've told me it was obvious, I won't beat around the bush."

"Beat around the... excuse me?" Arlecchino raised an eyebrow after eating another.

"Figure of speech."

"Ah, understood. Continue."

"Actually, before you get down to business I'd like to ask a question of my own." Signora raised her hand.

"And... what would that be? Don't you think I've earned the right to ask my questions first?" You turned your attention to her.

Now that you think about it, she hasn't spoken much at all. This is the first time she's directly addressed you since you first got captured.

...Apart from calling you a child of course, you could never forget that of all things.

"The noodles are a little plain, too plain for my liking. Do you have anything extra to add to it? Perchance some condiments? Your bowl looks... different to our own bowl's. What did you add to it?"

"I forgot you don't know how pot noo- I mean noodles work in this world! Sorry, I keep forgetting how you came from another place entirely different to this planet." You gasped, running to the kitchen and returning with different coloured packets.

"What... are they?" Sandrone pointed at the plastic packs.

"They look like poisons my clone's deliver for me to test out." Dottore thought outloud.

"Not at the table, please." Pantalone cringed.

"These, Harbingers, are a miracle in the making." You began, catching the attention of all of them.

'They look like puppies... It's cute.' Is what you would think if you forgot these are bloodthirsty monsters.

"Allow me to introduce you to the world of Sauce Packets. Each colour and size represents a flavour in the packet, and what garnish you'd like on top of your noodles!" You explained, placing all the packets you could find next to the pile of forks which had been unused.

"Amazing! You just get to pick like that?"

"Yup!"

"And... There's nothing else to it? No storing the packets in a cool area so they don't go off?"

"Nope!"

"Incredible... How does the food not become moldly or uneatable?" Dottore muttered.

"They're sealed really well. No air can get in or out until you rip the packet open."

"I want these two." Scaramouche rolled his eyes, grabbing two packs from the pile and holding them above his bowl.

"Be careful not to grab them too tight or they'll--!" You tried to speak as loud and quick as you could. But, unfortunately... "Burst..."

"What the actual shi--!?"

"There's a lot of sauce in those packets... Luckily for you, you held them above your bowl so the majority went in it! Thanks for not wasting any." You struggled to hold your laughter, grabbing a couple tissues from your pocket.

"Did any get on you?" You let a small giggle pass you lips.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes burning through yours. After a couple moments, he came to reality and noticed all the harbingers laughing, giggling and chuckling at his previous actions.

"...No." He snatched the tissues from your open hand.

"How amusing and childish Scaramouche." Dottore commented, covering his mouth which hid his grin.

"I don't want to hear that kind of comment from you of all people." The puppet shook his head with a snarl, wiping his lap with the tissues.

"Alright, I only have these two flavours left, the red packet on your left being a really spicy flavour. The orange packet on your right being chicken. Oh, and, the smaller packets I have contain either basil and garlic, as well as coriander here."

The Harbingers, after hearing your explanation, picked which packets they wanted and put them in their bowls of noodles. Except Capitano, he hadn't touched anything since he sat down at the table.

Once demonstrating how to mix the noodles with the cutlery, the Harbingers began to eat once more with happier smiles than before and light chatter.

"So, you wanted to ask some questions?" Pierro coughed into his hand, his expression soon turning stern and distant.

"Yes! Thank god we're back to this topic." You shook your head, a wry smile on your face.

"...What exactly are you planning to do next?" You asked the first question.

"What do you mean by that?" Columbina smiled eagerly at you.

"You're stuck in my world, thanks to Dottore's compass breaking... which looked oddly close to an illegal chest compass - but I won't judge the design."

"Yes, thank you for adding the 'DOTTORE'S COMPASS' breaking in your reasoning." Sandrone nodded with a satisfactory smile.

"Anyway, what do you plan to do next? You can't just hideout in my house until Dottore somehow creates a new machine, with materials he won't ever get his hands on since you're all no longer in Teyvat."

"You mean you don't have the same minerals here as in Teyvat?" He questioned you, tapping the table to form a little tune.

"Did you really think an ore called 'Magical Ore Chunk' would exist here?"

"...We didn't name it."

"I suppose the one thing you could say exists would be Iron. But I have no idea whether they work the same, they could very well have different effects when mined due to different adaptations to their environment."

"Do you use Iron to craft weapons?" Capitano spoke for the first time since entering the dining room. Too bad he sounds so excited, the answer won't please him too much.

"We do... or, we did. In the past hundred years, we've developed new weapons using different minerals and... chemicals." You grimaced.

"Oooh, this is getting interesting!" Columbina laughed, finishing her noodles with a pleasant sigh. "Sooo good."

"Glad you like them." You nodded at her, before returning your attention back to Dottore.

"Don't ask me about the chemical part. It's illegal for those to know how the dangerous substances are made, unless they're working for the goverment or a specially trained company."

"How dangerous could they really be...?"

"Again," You sighed. "Don't question it."

"I'm still traumatised when you put on that surgery channel earlier this afternoon."

"Back to my question?" You asked them again, tone sounding hopeful for a proper answer.

"Truthfully, we don't know what's going to happen. Haven't had a meeting to discuss it yet." Tartaglia shrugged, finishing also and putting his fork in the bowl.

"Tartaglia." Capitano scolded.

"Yes, Captain!" Childe saluted. Capitano and Pulcinella just shook their heads as a reply.

"Tartaglia is right, we don't know what to do."

"By chance, did your parents happen to know anything revolving machinery and world travelling?"

This is unwelcome territory now.

"Maybe. However, we wouldn't be able to ask them anyway." You shook your head, resisting the urge to lash out.

"Why? Are they out of town? Or perhaps they're at work someplace else?"

"You killed them."

Silence then took hold of the Harbinger's, not one person touched the food in front of them nor moved a centimetre.

"What?" Childe broke the silence, his voice as quiet as a mouse.

"You murdered my family in cold blood, butchered their bodies when you found they had no use to you and then dumped them to the side."

They all continued to stay silent, some closing their eyes, while some's faces showing an ounce of guilt.

Like you believed that guilt though.

"Fuck this." Scaramouche rudely announced, pushing his chair out and walking out of the room.

"I wanted to ask a few more questions, but you know what, I'm not in the mood anymore. Enjoy what's left of dinner, I know I won't. With my bruised body, I'm surprised I've lasted this long without collapsing in pain."

And with that, you left the table for the final time that evening. Carrying your bowl with you, you ascended up the stairs to your bedroom with tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

A bit sad, isn't it? Well, they've got more coming to them so I wouldn't get sad just yet. You wouldn't believe what I've got planned lol

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

On to more happy stuff!:

Thank you all so much for the support, I hope you'll stick with me for the rest of the parts in this series until I get to the finish line. :)

Back to the fluffy stuff convo... I'm really trying to squeeze them in, because if Y/N isn't showing kindness or anything nice to any of them, none of them will begin to grow feelings for them. It may seem out of place, but Y/N is coping right now. It's not like they can leave the house to run for help.

They saw what the Harbingers can do without thinking of other's lives being a consequence.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @conspicuous-mayonnaise @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

#sagau #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #fatui harbingers #yandere harbingers #genshin #pierro #capitano #il dottore #columbina #arlecchino #pulcinella #scaramouche #sandrone #la signora #pantalone #tartaglia #childe #fatui #genshin fatui

[norrizzandpia]

Lacy (Part 2) (Oscar Ending) (LN4 and OP81)

Summary: It might not be the happy ending he was expecting, but it’s a happy ending nonetheless.

Warnings: language, sexual conversations

Note: guys… this might be the most beautiful thing I have ever read and while I usually dont like to gloat, THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD GRAB THOSE TISSUES BECAUSE I WAS EVEN TEARING UP DURING THIS bro good luck to yall this is so rough

Note (part 2): ALSO this is the Oscar endgame ending, the lando ending will be published tmrw!!! I just wanted to get this one out first because i know the majority of people are waiting for the osc ending BUT ITS COMING TO THE LANDO GIRLIES I SWEAR <3

Note (part 3): also i will be posting screenshots of the anons I used for this whole storyline in a seperate post so be on the lookout for that after the lando ending comes out

There was never quiet. Quiet entailed her mind not racing with thoughts of Lando and her body to rid itself of the physical pain she was feeling. It was numbing, how hard the hurt hit her. Nothing had ever hurt her in that way. It was a sinking feeling, something that felt so incredibly serious and dark, she was too distraught to get out of bed.

The first few weeks were incredibly hard. She had a hard time eating, sleeping, and everything in between. If it hadn’t been for Lando telling Oscar to go check up on her, probably no one would have thought twice about her. The first time he saw her, the Australian quietly knocking on her door, he was terrified.

Y/n had been the first friend he made at McLaren. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Lando or his engineer, it was Y/n. Maybe it was because she was lonely herself, but the two had grown closer over the time he had been driving at McLaren, getting close enough for her to learn the real reason why he left Alpine in the way he did and him getting to understand the deep mess that was her and Lando. He never agreed with the way Lando treated her, but who was he to say anything? All he could do was sit off to the side and try to subtly comfort her when he made her feel unimportant.

Nevertheless, to walk into her apartment and see the state it was in as well as her dark eye bags and frail frame, Oscar was concerned. That morning he had coaxed her back to bed before making her breakfast, sitting with her on her mattress and making sure she ate every last bit. He had been so worried for her, he canceled his plans that day and cooked her every meal, fed her every snack, and, in between, watched the most outrageous reality TV he had ever seen.

Then, it became a routine.

He would show up at her apartment early in the morning to make breakfast with her before going on a long walk. Then, they’d come back, watch a movie and he’d have to leave, saddening, but not too much seeing as they both knew he’d be back in the night to make her dinner and lay her back in bed when she fell asleep on the couch after their reality TV show binge.

Then, somehow, feelings arose.

Oscar wasn’t sure when they developed, but one moment he was watching her laugh and thinking how happy he was to see that pretty sign of happiness on her face. After he recognized that, he continued to recognize how he always stayed late enough, no matter what time, that she fell asleep on his shoulder and he had to pick her up, wrap her in his arms, and lay her back in bed. He recognized how his hand constantly reached out for hers on walks when cars would fly so quickly past them and, for a split second, he became protective.

He wanted his feelings to stop, to not be real, because of Lando. However, the boy continued to date Luisinha even after everything that happened with Y/n, something Oscar was completely filled in on one night when Y/n began to sob to him about her inner turmoil.

It wasn’t until their feelings truly came out that Oscar realized there was no way he could push them down any longer, not when she loved him too.

It had been a peaceful Sunday night, one without the stressors of racing or work, just the two of them with full bellies glued next to each other on her couch, watching another stupid episode of Love Island.

Her head had been laying on his chest and his arms had been slung around her body, pulling her into him so unbelievably close. When a particular scene came on, the two girls and one guy yelling at each other because he had manipulated both of them into thinking he loved them both, Oscar noticed his shirt getting a bit wet. His eyes averted away from the TV, down to her, only to find her cheeks wet and her hands quickly wiping away the tears.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” He whispered, hands rubbing her back gently.

She shook her head, sitting up to rest her elbows on her knees, “It’s nothing. Just their situation.”

It took him a moment to realize, but once he did, he was quick to wrap his arms back around her, “It reminds you of you and Lando.”

“Yeah, but not in the way you think.” His eyebrows furrowed at her response.

“What do you mean?”

She pulled away, eyes staring back at him deeply, “It’s just that- I feel so bad for the girl that had to go through all of that. I feel sad for the girl I was six months ago. I’ve moved on from the pain he caused, but I haven’t moved on from how broken that girl had been. She didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve any of that.”

He shook his head, his eyes watering at the thing he had been trying to convince her of all this time, “No, you didn’t. You never did.”

Their faces had been so close, with his arms still strongly wrapped around her and hers curled up in his chest. It was inevitable, truly, when he leaned in slightly, silently asking her if he could. When she nudged her nose against his, he let his body do the one thing he had been wishing for for as long as he had known her.

Kissing her was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was soft and needy, but greedy at the same time seeing as this had been something they both had clearly been suppressing for so long. His hands tangled in her hair, he pulled away just a bit, “I don’t think we should do this.”

She tilted her head, “Why?”

“Because of him. I mean, you’re in a fragile state. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

She shook her head immediately, “No, Oscar. You’re not. I got over what he did to me and the feelings I had for him months ago when I realized everything I ever wanted was right in front of me.”

Her eyes bore into his, inferring that he was everything she had ever wanted, yet he still seemed hesitant.

Sighing, she linked her hands around his neck, “Do you love me? Because I love you.”

Her words took the air out of his lungs, nodding vigorously, “Of course, I love you.”

Nudging her nose against his once more, “Then kiss me, Osc.”

It was the way she said his name. So gently, with so much love, that pushed him to throw caution to the wind and get his girl. He kissed her fervently, giving her everything he had, as she reciprocated every feeling. It was euphoric, the way they accepted each other, and when they had sex that night, slow and passionate, it was the exact same.

Waking up next to her, Oscar knew that he could never go back.

Lando’s opinion would never matter because the girl curled up in his chest deserved the world and the fact that Lando never saw that, well, that was on him.

—

LANDO’S POV

I had done this. I had pushed them together. I asked Oscar to check up on her because I was too much of a coward to do it myself.

Oscar’s voice rings in my head like a fucking reminder of everything I missed.

“I love her, mate. I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, but me and her are going to give it a try. Whether you like it or not.” His words spit out, the image of them together the only thing in my head as he tries to break the news.

Putting on my best smile and hoping the regret doesn’t seep through, I say, “Nah, it’s good, Oscar. Have fun with her.”

He’s immediately visibly taken aback.

“That’s all you have to say?” He questions, suddenly my answer feels too informal, as if he hadn’t just taken away the one thing I’ve needed my entire life.

I nod, “Yeah, what else should I say?”

He scoffs, standing up, his demeanor shifting to something I have never seen from him, “Lando, you’re a fucking dumbass. ‘Have fun with her’? That’s fucking slimy. You talk about her like you didn’t almost cheat on your girlfriend with her. You talk about her like you didn’t take advantage of the feelings you knew she had for you. How do you not care about her?”

Standing up, I yell, “What do you want me to say?! Of fucking course, I care about her, Oscar! But, do you want me to say that to you?! You just told me you’re going to date my ex whether I liked it or not! There’s nothing to say!”

He shook his head, “First of all, she’s your ex-best friend, dickhead. Don’t get that shit twisted. You never got to love her like I do. Second of all, there should be something to say. In fact, I reckon you haven’t even apologized to her yet. Where’s the fucking apology?! You toyed with her for years and dropped her like that shit was easy. You completely ghosted her after almost telling her you loved her!”

I exhaled, so fucking tired of being reminded of the ways in which I lost her, of how I treated her. I’ll never be able to articulate it well, the shit mess I created and why, but, at least, I can understand it. I know I loved her. I know I love her. I know that will never change. And I know that I had been so stupidly confused on how in love with her I was, I pushed her away to the brink of loss.

“I’ve taken your relationship announcement well. Now, please get out of my apartment. I’m not interested in hearing another person's disappointment in the way I treated her. I hear it enough from myself.”

Oscar shook his head, keys jingling in his hand as he typed a quick message on his phone and walked to the door, “It’ll never be enough. You can’t be blamed for what you put her through enough. It’s fucking absurd you sleep at night.”

With that, he shut the door.

“I don’t sleep at night,” I mumbled.

—

THIRD PERSON POV

Oscar’s hand yanked open the driver’s seat door. Crouching down and getting in the car, he leaned over the console and kissed his girlfriend.

His hand gently on her back, she smiled, “How’d it go with him?”

He didn’t have the heart to tell her the fight he and Lando got into, simply smiling and kissing her again, “It went as well as it could.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she let out a giggle, “So, not good?”

Detaching from her and starting the ignition, he smiled, “That doesn’t concern you, love.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, looking out the window as he drove away, “I think it does considering it revolves around me.”

He laughed, his hand on her thigh, “The world doesn’t revolve around you,” He said in a singsong voice, joking along with her.

Her head reared to look at his side profile, faux astonishment, “Yes, it does.”

He glanced at her, his charming smile making her blush, “Yes, it does.”

—

LANDO’S POV

I had to find an escape somehow. I needed a way out of here. I couldn’t be here any longer and watch his hands on her, them being glued to her hips, as she laughed at his jokes and kissed his cheeks. I hate how perfect they are together. I hate how much more he makes her laugh and how much she smiles around him. I loathe how much better of a driver he is, how much everyone loves him, how much she loves him, I hate him because there’s nothing to hate about him, yet he has her, the one thing I had but stupidly lost, so I just detest the sight of him. He has everything I don’t have and more, it plagues me at night. He can give her so much more than I ever could’ve, and yet, I still find myself trying to figure out ways to get her back.

She was mine first, that should count for something right?

Nonetheless, I can’t stand it in this garage anymore. Their happiness, especially after having just broken up with Luisinha, makes me sick.

Walking the paddock, I try to spot the infamous red. Maybe Carlos can talk me out of this deep hole I’ve dug myself, maybe he can bring me back, even though no one has. The only person who could have the capability to build me back up again is her, it’s Y/n.

She’ll always be my lifeline.

I’m close to his room when I hear my name flood through the cracked door of Charles’ room.

“I just don’t understand how Lando fucked up so bad,” He says, words coming out quickly as if they had been on his tongue for so long.

Suddenly, Max’s voice pops through and the Red Bull driver says the sentence that I never wanted to hear out loud, “Yeah, exactly. It was so clear she loved him and he just threw it away because of another girl? Luisinha was sweet, but she wasn’t Y/n, and I sure as hell preferred Y/n to her. Y/n was perfect for Lando and I’m sad they didn’t work out, but have you seen how happy she is with Oscar?”

Their hurtful words continue as Charles lets out an agreeing hum, “Oh yeah. She’s been through so much, specifically with everything between her and Lando, you can tell she really loves him. You can tell he’s really good for her. I think it’s the stability and gentleness he’s showing her that makes the difference. With Lando, it was all up and down like a rollercoaster, but, with Oscar, it’s so apparent he just loves her and shows her everyday, something Lando never did.”

I feel the tears welling in my eyes as I take their analyses in.

He can’t be better for her than me. Y/n and I have always been destined for each other, how can one guy swoop in and change all of that? I will always love Y/n harder, that has to count for something.

Right?

—

It’s the expensive dates. That has to be the reason she’s so enthralled with him.

The pictures I scroll through on his Instagram of their quiet date night make me want to dig my own grave. A photo of his hand in hers; a photo of her smiling at the camera so big it looks as if he had said something sweet to her and caught her genuine reaction, a beautiful candid of a beautiful girl; a photo of them kissing in front of a fountain, her hand on his shoulder as she leans up to meet his lips.

It’s all too much.

I hate how much they mesh together and how big he makes her smile. I hate the fact that he has bigger muscles than me and a nicer car.

I hate it all.

As if to add salt in the wound, Oscar’s smiling face walks through the door, his body plopping down on the couch across from me as he sits next to Andrea and the two start talking.

“How’s Y/n?” Andrea asks, completely unaware of how sensitive I am to her name.

Oscar nods, “She’s great! I dropped her off at work this morning after we had breakfast in her apartment.”

Andrea wiggles his eyebrows, sexual innuendos on the tip of his tongue and I want someone to come take out my brain, so it could stop picturing him pleasuring her like he knows her body better than I do.

“So, you sleep at her house now?” Andrea says, chuckling.

Oscar laughs along with him as my heart tears straight down the middle, “We jump around between each other’s places. Some nights I sleep at hers, some nights she’ll sleep at mine. Really, it just depends on where we go for dinner the night before. If the place is closer to my house, then we end up there and vice versa.”

Andrea nods and smiles, oblivious to my presence, “That sounds like a good time.”

Oscar side eyes him and they both fall into a fit of giggles, Andrea waving his hands in the air as he says, “Not what I meant!”

Oscar nods, “No, I get what you mean. My mind is just dirtier now after spending so much time with her. My girlfriend is not for the pure. Every two seconds, she has some random sex joke ready.”

The words “my girlfriend” out of his mouth is what sends me over the edge.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” I say, standing up and causing a scene.

Oscar’s face hardens as he meets my position, “What’s with you?”

I shake my head, “You’re rubbing it in my face and you know it.”

He shrugs, “So, what if I am? A little guilt does you good after the shit you pulled.”

Finally, after the emotional build up, I yell, “I GET IT! I SCREWED THE FUCK UP! I UNDERSTAND I RUINED HER LIFE AND I RUINED MINE! YOU DON’T NEED TO SIT HERE AND MAKE IT KNOWN EVERY FIVE SECONDS! I CAN’T FUCKING STAND IT ANYMORE!”

Oscar fires back, “YOU DIDN’T RUIN HER FUCKING LIFE BECAUSE YOU NEVER HAD THAT HOLD ON HER. YOU FUCKING HURT HER. THAT’S IT. ALL ANYBODY EVER WANTED FROM YOU WAS AN APOLOGY AND YOU CAN’T FUCKING GET IT OUT. SO, YEAH, I’LL RUB IT IN YOUR FACE. MAYBE THAT WILL GET YOU TO REALIZE WHAT YOU LOST.”

Pushing him, “I DO KNOW WHAT I’VE LOST.”

He pushes me back, my feet stumbling when he yells, “REALLY? BECAUSE IT SURE AS HELL DOESN’T SEEM THAT WA-”

“ENOUGH.” My dad’s voice cuts through, his hands coming to rest on both of our chests.

His gaze is fiery as he levels us, “This has gone on for two long. You two are supposed to be a team. It’s not good for anyone when you fight this way. So, do everybody a favor and grow the fuck up. Act like the professional adults you are.”

The two of us seem to be scared enough to comply and, as my father walks out of the room, he stops in the threshold to turn around and stare at me.

“And, Lando?”

“Yes, dad?”

“Fucking apologize.”

—

THIRD PERSON POV

The knocking at Y/n’s door has her smiling. Feet pattering quickly against the floor, she flings it open.

“Osc! What are you doing he-” Her voice cuts off when her eyes land on Lando.

Her gaze turns icy and she closes the door slightly, “What are you doing here?”

“Please, just hear me out.”

The urgency in his voice has her sighing and opening the door, letting him in yet not letting him back into her heart.

He sets down the flowers he got her on the counter, twiddling his thumbs as his nerves swallow him whole.

“Just say it, Lando.” Her arms cross over her chest as his eyebrows furrow and he truly meets her gaze for the first time since he’s been there.

“What do you mean?” He shakes his head.

“I know you love me and I know you came here to tell me that, to see if you still had a chance.” She says slowly, flashbacks of that night out on that Monaco street falling back into their brains. However, now, the tables have turned.

He nods, “Of course, I love you. I always have, Y/n. So, do I still have a chance?”

A silence falls over them as she stares at him, her eyes seemingly challenging him for whatever reason, before she exhales a breath and says, “Instead of stringing you along like you did to me so cruelly all those years, I’ll be 100% transparent with you. I do not love you anymore. I finally have found someone who cherishes every moment with me, who loves me no matter what. I don’t feel scared everyday that Oscar’s going to wake up one day and decide he doesn’t want to be with me anymore, and I know I’ll never have to be scared of that. That’s what love is, Lando. That’s what I wanted with you a year and a half ago, but you screwed that up. None of that was ever on me. You knew I loved you and instead of talking to me about it, you harbored that information, got a girlfriend, shoved it in my face, and then tried to tell me you loved me when I was at my most vulnerable. How fucking fucked up? It doesn’t matter if you’ve always loved me or if you continue to. I’ve found someone who gives me everything I’ve ever wanted and more without ever having to ask. I won’t take that for granted like you did. I never had any of that with you and I never will, which is okay because, frankly, I don’t want it with you anymore. So, I’m going to do what you should’ve done that night when I was drunk. I’m going to tell you that I don’t love you and that it’s time to move on because we both know our friendship never would’ve worked as anything more than that. You always wanted me to be your friend, there when you needed me, however you needed me. I was never going to be that for you long term and it’s crazy you ever thought I would’ve. But, that’s not the point anymore. The point is I don’t feel the same way about you and, instead of trying to cheat on the man I love the most, the man who never deserves that, I’m going to tell you to get out of my apartment because we were always destined to be over.”

Lando stands, speechless, on the other side of her kitchen table, taking in the words that completely destroyed his being.

He seems to drown in his tears as his mouth opens and closes, searching for something to say.

“How can Oscar be better than me?” He questions, the inquiry falling from his lips before he has time to realize he doesn’t want to know the answer.

Her answer is quick, “He loves me openly.”

Nodding, Lando leaves the flowers he knows are her favorite on the surface, opting to make his way toward the door as quickly as possible seeing as he’s on the verge of a breakdown.

When they reach the door, she opens it and gives him a soft smile, “I’m sorry for what you’re about to go through. It’s absolute shit, but you’ll get through it. I did. And, maybe, you’ll be as lucky as me to find your soulmate in the healing process.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.” He states, genuinely.

She smiles back at him, “Thank you.”

His tears freely fall down his face as he memorizes her face. It’s so at peace, he finally sees why Oscar is perfect for her. In the time he was with her, Lando never saw her this calm, this happy. Oscar brings out a side of her, a healthy side of her, that he never could have, something he would just have to come to terms with.

His walk back to the elevator after she gently sent him away is heavy. His chest feels constricted and his hands feel sweaty as the steel box takes him down floors. When he reaches the first one and steps out, his eyes catch the infamous papaya colors to his side. What he finds is Oscar standing, waiting for an elevator a few ways down with flowers in his hands. Her favorite ones, the ones Lando had just brought to her. His leg bounces as he eagerly waits for it to open and, when it does, he bolts into it.

No matter how hard Lando finds it to breathe, the knowledge that that is the man he leaves Y/n to is comforting.

Truly comforting.

End.

A/N: Thank you for all the love on Lacy. It truly means everything to me when it comes to the support you guys show my writing. I want to become an author, so the love helps build my confidence with the idea of showing the other, non-fanfiction works I have to publishing companies. Truly, truly, truly, truly, truly, thank you.

Tags: @cxcewg @luvrrish @f1enthusiastsstuff @loxbbg @allabouthappiness @mirrorball-6 @mineandneveryours @tpwkstiles @gaypoetsblog @itsjustkhaos @n7ytiri @eviethetheatrefreak @hood-jabi @ushygushybaby @dessxoxsworld @minkyungseokie @prettyisntprettyenough21 @what-is-happening-helpp @im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @milena2928-blog @amalialeclerc @hiraishua @scopeiguess @oosnapitskat

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #mclaren #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris edit #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando imagine #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris x you #oscar piasstri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar pia #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar pastry #op81

[wosoamazing]

Recovery

Summary: Part 2 of Negative Thoughts and Beach Days

Warnings: Eating Disorder (slight talks of being sick but it doesn't happen) - let me know if anything else and I will add

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out, but I hope you like it and that it was worth the wait. Currently working on a two McFoord x Child!Reader fics and a Leah Williamson x Child!Reader fic and kind of a Sam redemption fic. But if you have any ideas for this series (either Barca, Arsenal or Matildas) or requests in general I will add them to my WIPs.

Lia had come over to cook dinner for you and Leah, it was something that happened quite often, however today the meal was fancier than usual. You just sat in your chair, in front of your plate, you used your fork to move the food around on you plate, taking small bites every now and then. You felt terrible you wanted to eat the food that Lia had taken the time to make, but there was a part of you that didn’t want to eat because of its fear of fatness and getting fat, and against your will this small part of you had started to take over more and more recently, causing you to feel funny when you thought about food, but this time something else was there, the thought of throwing up after you ate, this thought scared you, you had managed to suppress your thoughts and feelings for most of the meal however they finally bubbled over, causing tears to start free falling from your eyes, you felt stupid and pathetic all over again, you jumped up and left, sprinting up the stairs and into Leah’s room, you hide yourself under the covers and curled up, wanting to feel something else, anything else.

_

The two women that just a second ago were sitting at the table with you were in a mixed state of emotions, your sudden out burst caught them off guard, Leah really didn’t know what to do.

“Do you want me to leave?” Lia asked thinking it would be best.

“I’m sorry Wally,” you sister said to her still in a state of confusion.

“It’s okay Le, I’ll talk to you later, hopefully Bug is okay,” she said as they both started to get up out of their seats.

“Sorry about ending our night early,” you sister said as she hugged Lia, “it’s okay don’t worry, I understand, see you tomorrow, maybe?” your sister nodded before heading upstairs to find you.

_

Leah followed the sounds of your sobs to her room, she couldn’t see you but the lump under her covers indicated that you were there, she climbed into the bed and pulled your body on top of hers, she didn’t say anything, instead she rocked back and forth slightly whilst holding you tightly. You had gotten yourself so worked up you gaged, before you started coughing, Leah handed you the water on her bedside table, you took some small sips from it, Leah changed your position slightly so that your head rested against her chest. “Take some deep breaths with me bug,” you did as she said, your eye lids started to droop and your head began to get heavy, which Leah noticed “It’s okay bug, I’ve got you, I promise I will stay here, you can go to sleep if you want, we can talk later. Love you,” you didn’t respond, you buried your head into her side and eventually the exhaustion from your sobs caused you to fall asleep. When you body stopped shaking from your sobs and your breath was less rapid Leah sighed out a breath of relief, you had gone to sleep. She picked up her phone to see a message from Lia.

Lia: I hope everything is all okay, I cleaned up, I know you’re going to say I didn’t need to, but I did it just to make things easier, locked the door behind me. Hope bug is okay, message if you need anything.

Leah: Thank you, really you didn’t have to, but I really appreciate it. I don’t know what is wrong with bug, she was crying hard when I found her, eventually she fell asleep, I was worried she almost made herself sick, I think the only saving grace was that she didn’t eat much. I’ll keep you updated, sorry again about our night.

You become aware of your surroundings again slightly later, you were now resting against Leah’s side with her arm around your upper body almost supporting it, her laptop rested on her stomach as she did some work with her free hand.

“I-I’m sorry,” was what you mumbled into her side, alerting her to the fact that you were awake.

“It’s okay bug,” “Do you think Lia is upset that I didn’t eat her dinner? I feel really bad, she took so much time and care to make it and-”

“No bug, Lia didn’t even mention the fact you didn’t eat. She was just really concerned about you and whether you were okay or not.” you hummed in response “What’s wrong though bug? Do you feel okay?”

“um, well, I-” “It’s okay bug take your time, I’m here and I will stay here as long as you need” you knew from that response that Alessia had spoken to her, you didn’t know how much she said to her but she knew something, but you also knew Leah would want to hear everything from you, you wondered how long it had been since Alessia spoke to her, for her not to question you.

“I-I, I started getting conscious of my body a while ago and then these people on social media were being really mean and I know you say not to let it get to you but I did and then somewhere along the way I had obviously decided that not having my period meant that I was skinny enough and then I got my period and this voice in my head started to grow and was telling me I’m fat, and ugly and no one liked me and then I started to believe it so I stopped wearing my normal clothes and then when we went to the beach I couldn’t fit into my bikini and so the voice decided that I was really fat and ever since has not made me want to eat food and I’ve tried to not let it take over but it did and then tonight while I sat there looking at my dinner the other thing in my head was the voice that was telling me that if I ate it I would be fat and so I couldn’t eat and, and, and I’m sorry, it’s stupid and pathetic I know.” you blurted out managing not to cry, however tears started spilling form your eyes again when Leah sat up against the bedhead and pulled you into her lap and just hugged you tightly, resting her head on top of yours, giving you a reassuring presence. After you had calmed down slightly Leah started to talk, but she remained in the same position “I’m here for you bug, always, whenever and whatever you need, I would move mountains for you, I love you so so much, your my little bug. Please, please never feel like you have to hide your emotions, even when you think that they are dumb or pathetic or stupid because I can most definitely reassure you that they aren’t. We’re going to get through this together okay, I’ll help you, the team will help you.”

“I-I’m sorry” you sniffle. “There is nothing to be sorry about bug, this isn’t your fault.” she held you for a little while longer before she turned you around so you were facing her, she put her arms around your back, and looked at you. “I’m going to set up a meeting with Jonas okay, I try and do it for tomorrow morning so you don’t have to stress about it, Lessi did mention to me that she offered to do the meeting with you but I also want to offer to be there in the meeting for you”

“Um, could you do it with me? You can say no, but um, I would really like it if you could-” “Of course bug, I will definitely be there.” You smiled and leant forward to rest your head on her chest, before a yawn escaped your mouth. “Why don’t you go get changed unto your PJs and brush your teeth and I’ll do the same and then you can come back and sleep with me tonight,” you nod into her chest before getting up.

You climbed into the bed and snuggled up beside your sister, “can you tell Lia?” you softly said to her, knowing she knew what you meant.

“Sure bug, I love you heaps, have a good sleep.” she replied to you. You closed your eyes and mumbled “love you,” she placed a kiss on your forehead, and you quickly feel asleep. Once you were definitely asleep, she picked up her phone to message Lia

Leah: Bug is very sorry for not eating your food, the first thing she said was sorry, and asked whether you were upset.

Lia: Bless her, is everything okay with her?

Leah: um well, not really, can we call? Bug is asleep next to me, but she shouldn’t wake up.

Lia: Yeah sure, just give me a second.

_

You woke up the next morning at 7, slightly later than usual, Leah wasn’t in bed still, but you could hear her downstairs talking to someone else, who you thought was Lia. You made your way down the stairs and into the living room, to find Leah and Lia sitting there.

“Good morning,” your sister said as you walked in,

“Good morning, um Lia, I-I just wanted to say I-I’m sorry for not eating the food y-you made for us last night,”

“It’s okay Y/N/N, can I have a hug though?” she asked softly, you nodded and moved to sit next to her on the couch, she put her arms around you. She then let go of you, you moved so that you could rest your head on her should, she put on of her arms back around your shoulders and the other reached out for Leah’s, before she spoke, “we were thinking, maybe today at some stage I could or Leah and I could talk to the team for you if you want, it’s okay if you want to tell them yourself but we just thought you might prefer if we did it.”

“I think I would like that, thank you”.

You walked into training checking the time on your phone 9:30, your meeting was with Jonas at 10, you didn’t get the chance to train though, as your morning was mostly filled with tears and meetings. After you spoke to Jonas, who was very understanding you had to see the phycologist, dietician, and physios. You arrived in the dining hall a few minutes before lunch, and it had been obvious that Lia and Leah had told the team about what was going on as they all came up to you and gave you a hug as they filtered in.

Jonas had said that they would come talk to you after lunch, he encouraged you to invite a few people to stay with you to hear the plan so that they knew it in detail and could ask any questions they themselves might have. So, you asked Leah and Lia if they could join you and also Steph as she would be with you at Matildas camps but also because you thought she would want to know.

You were sat at one of the lunch tables, Lia and Leah were either side of you, holding a hand each and Steph stood behind you with her hands on your shoulders, as the staff informed you of the plan going forward. You were happy with it, it included some rules about food intake especially for game days but mainly just guidelines that you needed to stick to, you had to speak to the phycologist twice every week and the physios would be doing health checks on you more regularly. They would revise the plan in a month or so.

_____

You were walking out of the tunnel to the pitch for pitch inspections when one of the physios came to your side. “Here,” he said as he handed you an up and go.

“I don’t want to, I feel sick” you replied, trying to give it back to him.

“Well, that’s fine but you know the rules, you don’t drink it you don’t play,” you sighed as you pulled the straw out of its plastic and pierced the foil circle before you start sipping. One of the ‘rules’ in your plan for recovery was that to play you had to eat a sufficient amount of food that day, however you struggled to eat on game days due to nerves so the rule that you to drink some sort of meal substitute during the pitch inspection and finish it to be able to play was made.

“Thank you,” you rolled your eyes and walked over to Kyra.

_____

It was almost the end of mealtime, and you didn’t want to eat anymore, “Leah, I’m just not hungry, why don’t you understand that you aren’t listening to me,” “Just a few more mouthfuls please” “Leah, I told you I’m full.”

“I know you don’t want to bu-” “It’s not that I don’t want it, it’s that I can’t, I’m going to be sick if I eat anymore and that’s worse, realistically I want to eat more so I will be sick but that’s not healthy, so no, no more” you cut her off before your voice broke and you started crying, resting you head in your arms on the table.

“I’m sorry for pushing you too far Bug, I just wanted to help.” Leah rubbed your back, before you sat up and hugged her.

_____

“Tony, where are our up and go’s,” Alanna whined when you were handed one. Most of your Matildas teammates didn’t know, Tony said you didn’t have to tell them and you didn’t want to have the awkward conversation with them, so you didn’t, you weren’t trying to hide it, if they found out they found out.

“She’s just special” Kyra replies mocking you, you stick your tongue out before going over to Steph, who was with Mini.

“Up go, I wan” Harper said.

“I’m not sure if everyone can have one Harper, they might be special ones just for me,” her bottom lip dropped and started to wobble, “well maybe you could take this one as an ‘accident’ and I will have to go ask the staff for another one, I mean if they want me to play they will have to give me one,” you say with a smirk, before handing your up and go over to Harper, Mini’s brows furrowed, she was confused by what you meant. “I’m going to go get another one so I can play. Steph, you can tell her I’ll be back,”

You came back shortly later with another up and go in hand the way Mini looked at you informed her that Steph had told her. “You know you didn’t need to give her it, you should’ve kept it,” Mini instructed you as if you were her child before she pulled you into a one-sided hug, her other arm was occupied holding Harper. “I know, but they were always going to give me another,” you smirk “I mean they can hardly say no, how is that going to go down in the media.” Steph glared at you, “What?” you asked Steph playfully, she just rolled her eyes and sighed.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #awfc #awfc x reader

[theysaidhush]

noncon/dubcon with any legal enha member? 😭

Roommate!Jake being a freak !

Non/dub-con with Jake. I can sooo imagine this man being so infatuated with you that he would take advantage of you while you’re drunk or sleeping.

So imagine Perv!Roommate!Jake who fell in love with you the very first minute you moved in… And he fell hard. Maybe too hard. On the head. Because now he’s crazy for you. Or just crazy.

🕊 DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT 🕊

Jake’s plan A was easy. Fuck any living and breathing person to make you jealous. Old, young, man, woman, you’ve seen it all come and leave the Australian’s bedroom. You’ve heard them at night. You’ve even seen some of them drink coffee dressed in skimpy outfits or Jake’s shirt. But Jake found out that it wasn’t disturbing you. You were the perfect roommate, doing your chores and never complaining. So the first time you saw one of his one night stand sitting at the table, you asked them with a sickingly sweet smile if they wanted some hot chocolate. Sweet naive and caring you not giving a fuck about befriending the person Jake fucked last night. It made him sick and yet amazed at how perfect you were.

And perfect you were. At least for him. He's convinced himself that you were. Perfect but just for him. So it was the reason why he needed you. When he thought he couldn't fall more for you, you proved him wrong. Cooking him dinner, preparing breakfast, doing his laundry when he forgot to do it. You were the perfect wife. At least, that was what his sick brain would let him think. On the other end, you were just being polite and human. You weren't going to cook yourself something and watch him starve when he came home at two in the morning. But again, Jake had trouble differentiate kindness and love. So he was pretty sure that you were onto him.

Seeing how plan A failed miserably, he decided to start plan B. Being the perfect boyfriend material. Everyone loves boyfriend material right ? Getting up early to prepare breakfast, going out with you to shop for groceries, helping you carry the bag, cook dinner. He was basically thriving at the thought that you were both acting and doing what a normal couple would do. Except that you were just roommates. Maybe even friend now.

So when he saw that you were starting to get comfortable with him, he saw an opportunity. Well, many actually. It all started with him stealing your underwear. He felt sick, but only because it was the first time. The second time he came on your pantie, painting the tissue in white before sniffing it as if it was the better parfume in the store, his guilt evaporated. The third time he jerked off in your bra, imagining your breast wrapping his shaft, he was a goner. But you did not notice, so it was fine.

The second thing he did was taking pictures of you without you knowing - obviously. When you're washing the dishes, he would come behind you and take a nice picture of your ass. There's something about your waist pressed on the counter that makes him go wild. Or when you're under the shower - someone accidentally broke the lock. There's just something about your naked silhouette through the curtain that makes him whine harder when pumping his cock. But the best pictures of all are those when you're bending over or sitting on your knees. At first, it was difficult, he was always too late so he never took the picture at the right time. But with practice - yes, with practice, that's how sick he is - he finally managed to get the right pictures. There's just something about the curve of your ass that makes him thrust harder into your pillow.

The third thing he did was fucking you while you were asleep. You were so nice and naive, getting so comfortable with him after six months of him being nice and pliant with you. He did not bring anyone home during those six months, and yet you were still considering him as a friend. Just a friend. It made him sick. And yet here you were, sleeping with only a shirt covering your small frame. Panties showing when tossing around. You literally asked for what was coming, right ? Right..? The Australian couldn't care less, tho, he was about to take what was his.

He only praised himself when rolling your shirt up and showing your breasts. You did not wake up. The pills he gave you were effective.

You did not moved an inch when he sat on your torso and finally put his hard and leaking dick between your tits, thrusting harder at the feeling of your round breast and soft skin against his cock.

You did not flinched when he painted your face in white, shooting ropes after ropes on your sleeping and unaware face, grinning, moaning and panting like a bitch at how good you made him feel.

You did not moved an inch when he groped your breast, sucking on your hardened nipples while grinding his dick against your naked cunt - your pantie in his back pocket.

Or when he hugged you tight and whimpered in your ears while rutting on you, humping on your pussy like a fucking weirdo, small tears escaping his eyes at how good you were making him feel, how smoothly the tip of his dick was grazing at your cunt everytime his hips would thrust forward.

And nor did you moved when he finally cum, putting just the tip inside your pussy so he could watch his cum leak from the small entrance. As if he really fucked you. Could you blame him, your pussy just looks so pretty with white sperm dripping down your thighs, leaking onto your asshole, pussy glistening with the evidence of his love. He can't help himself but take a picture.

Next time he fucks you you're gonna be awake.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #kpop hard hours #enhypen x reader #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jake x reader #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #dead dove do not eat #literally don't know how to tag Jake #like should I put Sim Jaeyun or Sim Jake or Jake Sim #anyway #tw noncon

[peterspinkrobe]

Revelation - Priest!Miguel x Reader [part 3]

Word count: 2,878

Rating/Warnings: mature. Naughty thoughts and naughty bits. Mentions of parental death, religious content, food, soooo much Catholic guilt.

A/N: I’m so glad you guys are enjoying the series so far! No more money in my budget for commissioned art this month, but I did take this picture of St. Phillip’s Church while visiting my uncle in Charleston. Please let me know what you think of this chapter! If you haven’t read part 1 or part 2, go do that first :p

Tagged peeps: @friendlynbhdzero @ceoofghosts @hoelychildofgod @tayleighuh @luckycandykitten @beebslebobs @milkyardbetter @miaasmf @koimess @miggyswhore (sorry if I missed you in the taglist or if it messed up the tag!!!)

There were two things known about your mother: her cooking and her follow through. She was the delegate for church and community event meals; oftentimes in the kitchen doing the work herself alongside people that respected her and her cooking.

Your mother prided herself in her cooking and it kept her going in times of hurt for you both. She was the one baking casseroles to give to neighbors when dad passed. It was you who had to sit her down to eat something most days.

If God had anything to do with her getting better, it was in giving her that ability to provide in a way some overlooked. She buzzed while she worked her talents in the church’s kitchen now. The previously mentioned follow through evident in her meticulous manner of cleaning right behind herself as she cooked.

That follow through was especially true now as she was making sure you followed the rules she had set in place regarding church and attendance. Not only were you going this Sunday since you missed the last service, but you were also helping with the Wednesday church dinner.

You know she wants the best for you. It took you a long time (and a lot of space) to see that she showed it in the ways she knew how, the ways she was raised. You try to sprinkle the amount of salt she showed you earlier onto the massive amount of rolls. Despite your physical presence where she asked, you know your hearts and values don’t lie within the boundaries of shared faith.

You didn’t mind the service aspect of religion though. In fact, you enjoyed assisting your mother when she helped others in the community. You only pretended to follow the ‘good book’ and ‘walk the righteous path’ to spare her. What you had issues with was the institution of religion itself and some probably never-to-be-resolved personal qualms with the man upstairs. First, why did god have to be a man?

You’d never admit these questions and doubts to her, it would devastate her.

You did, however, admit it to someone.

Your confession last Thursday and the fact that Reverend Miguel was on the receiving end of all your revelations had you waking up suddenly in the night this past week - jolting from the bed, a quickening pulse, and sweat dampening the sheets. The concern in his deep, dark-eyed stare from that day stuck with you. You felt shame, guilt, maybe both, or something else unnamed and it kept you from indulging in the pleasure he had so easily made you feel without even being in the room. You still felt tense knots in your shoulders as you worked.

It was easy to feign sickness when you actually felt feverish and drained after you’d let those inner thoughts become spoken truths.. Your mother worried when you wouldn’t come out of your room. When you missed (skipped) church, she showed her concern and care with homemade chicken noodle soup. Moping, unbothered lasted only another day before she was yanking covers off you and having you run errands around town. ‘Getting back on your feet is the first step to feeling better,’ she retorted to your groans early that Monday morning. No more laying out of church…

You had to think of another way to avoid him. A way to steer clear of any sort of confrontation

You thought about moving away, dramatic, yes, but maybe into the city. Not too far from mom, because she needed help more than she admitted. Tonight was a prime example as her usual kitchen hands said they weren’t feeling well. This was helpful in negating any suspicions your mom had of you lying about being ill. Moving wouldn’t be running away, you were an adult.

You had literally run away though. As soon as the reality of who had taken your confession set in, you ran right out of that booth, back into the bustling city, onto the bumpy bus, and curled up into yourself at home. As you’re thinking about the many help wanted signs and rent postings you saw in the city, you hear chatter that interrupts the flow you two had created in the kitchen.

Mom is being pulled away by another member of the church and she instructs you to make two plates for the people who weren’t able to help her with cooking this evening. You’re pulling the last of the vegetables out of the oven and she hovers a moment, uncomfortable leaving you to the important final preparations.

It’s hard not to feel offended. Five years ago you would have rolled your eyes and commented on how if she didn't trust you, you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.

“It’s okay,” you assure her as you wash your hands before preparing their plates, “I’ve got this.” You smile gently at her for you know you both need reassurance at times. She pinches her lips together but nods and leaves you alone.

Styrofoam to-go plates were open on the counter, waiting to receive their fill. You eyed the dinner and patted yourself on the back. Mom thought up the meal and did most of the actual ingredient brain power and temperature controls, but you’d done your part as well. It did feel good to do for others even if you still felt down.

A wide pan of meatloaf with a perfect caramelized sauce on top sat as the main course. Alongside it was some cabbage slaw and a broccoli cheddar bake. You make the to-go plates with equal portions and top them each with a roll. Your favorite part were the green onion rolls and you couldn't help but sneak one as the hours of prep and cooking left you famished.

You placed foil over the containers of your mom’s truly famous strawberry cobbler for it to cool when everyone ate. Most of the produce has come from the local farms. You savored the first bite of the fresh roll and marinated on the flavors of home, wondering if you could really leave this behind again.

You’re setting out the plates and silverware for the church members when you hear footsteps behind you. You turn to tell your mom that you’d made the plates, but it’s not her that now joined you in the kitchen.

Tense shoulders, little sleep… you were as tight as a coil ready to spring so you jumped a little when you saw the towering figure as you turned.

Reverend O’Hara’s eyes showed the same concern from last week, but softer. His feet shuffled slightly and he put his hands up as if he had approached an animal in the wild. He had a hesitant, more nervous aura than the suave confidence he usually eluded.

He opened his mouth to speak and you heard him say your name again in that sweet voice…

______________________________________

Standing before you now, Deacon Miguel found himself reflecting on the unexpected confession he heard last week. It was a confession that had stirred within him a mix of emotions and conflicting thoughts.

Miguel had contemplated how to address this delicate situation for it simply couldn’t go ignored. You matter. Your feelings matter. The deacon knew it was crucial that he approach this with compassion and understanding. Faith was a deeply personal journey, and each individual had their own struggles and doubts. Lord knew he’d faced his own in the past and that even if his current standings were solid, they were shaky.

His mind had been consumed by the weight of what he had learned. He couldn't help but feel a profound connection to you when he first placed the communion wafer on your tongue, the tongue that had inadvertently confessed impure thoughts to him. Though your honesty and vulnerability struck a chord within him.

Unbeknownst to you, the deacon struggled with similar doubts and desires. When he heard your confession, his heart weighed heavily with empathy and understanding. Though he couldn’t help the mix of relief in his emotions as well. It was comforting to know he wasn’t alone in grappling with faith, the temptation, and the forbidden attraction that he felt towards you.

Denying his own attraction to you was impossible.

Despite his commitment to his faith and role within the church, he too has found himself captivated by your presence and constantly battled his own desires. Since he’d laid eyes on you that faithful Sunday morning, he’d felt an invisible force bind himself to you. Much like he had bound himself to the service of God Almighty, he found himself wanting to serve you.

Miguel O’Hara couldn’t get that mental image out of his mind. Serving you… The more he tried to control his urges, the harder they became to ignore. He’d been doing what he was told all these many years in the church, abstaining from giving in too much. But no matter how much he tried to uphold the image of chaste, he is merely flesh.

The views of his brothers in Christ were archaic. They forget that the sacrifice of the only Son was done in love, despite our sins. He truly believed that it is natural, God-given even, to experience attraction to fellow flesh. It’s natural to seek a partner in life. He’s human. He’s prone to straying from the path. He is only human. He just hopes that God understands when he asks for forgiveness and repentance.

He struggles with the guilt of falling into temptation when he feels he’ll come undone if he doesn’t allow himself release. He isn’t able to hold back now as much as times prior. Not when you had captivated his spirit.

He also felt guilty for viewing you in the explicit ways that he thought of you. Focusing on the way clothes hugged your body and needing to know what hid in the heaven of your thighs. While Matthew says not to judge others, he also mentions in the Good Book that, “whoever looks […] to lust at someone, has already committed adultery with them in his heart.” If he were to really follow the written word, Miguel would have to pluck out his eyes for his transgressions against you in his mind.

His flesh weakens when he remembers how soft your lips were under the pad of his thumb. The way your eyes looked into his as he cupped your chin.

Cold showers are his usual go-to when it comes to trying to avoid the temptation of touch. His large shoulders hunched slightly when the frigid water fell onto his skin. It’s in vain though each time because his body still radiates heat of passion from thoughts of you. When he looks down at himself, he curses his body’s reaction to thoughts of your mouth. His painfully hard cock begs for your touch. It’s always too much to bear. The tip of him screaming red and leaking despite the cold temperatures.

When he gives in, it’s always too fast. Finally gripping himself the way he’d liked, imagining showing that way to you, he pumped himself with his hand. His grunts steamed the shower even further as he envisioned you with him. Oh, how he longed to feel you and learn you like scripture. His wanton movements force him to brace himself on the shower wall as an image that always brings over the edge flashes his in mind: your legs spread in offering of your own communion. It’s enough to make him see stars as your name echoes in his shower like hallelujahs.

He wishes it wasn’t shame that he felt after. He wishes his comedown was met with comfort from you. He allows the evidence of his shame to wash from himself down the drain, but the feeling is still there. You were more than someone to be lusted over.

While the sexual attraction was strong, he also yearned to know more about you. You’d only revealed little bits of yourself in the confession booth but he was intrigued, nonetheless. He wanted to know more about your conflict with faith, wondered what your childhood was like and what foods you enjoyed, interested in learning your outlook on life. Miguel wanted to learn your personal philosophies as if it were doctrine.

Not seeing you at the previous Sunday service hurt. He understood, given your beliefs, that he couldn’t expect you at church. It wasn’t an attendance issue, which he would not enforce on anyone, but the empty aisle seat in the middle pew made him feel equally as vacant. It didn’t matter to him if you were conflicted or steadfast on Christian values. Matthew 7 held his strongest position on the matter of judgment: it wasn’t his place. He was simply a figurehead of spiritual guidance.

In fact, he had geared his sermon slightly towards you for that Sunday. He couldn’t help the itch to address the issue in a way he was comfortable, through scripture. He didn’t want to convert your faith to Jesus Christ. He wanted to help you restore faith in yourself.

You conjured in him quotes from Corinthians: a book in the Bible that speaks of faith, hope, and love. He carefully highlighted 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 the night of your confession as he crafted his sermon. “[…], our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light, momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” Yes… the Bible is literally referencing heaven as the eternal glory, but it’s all metaphorical. “Unseen” was the key word in this theological message. He knew the congregation visualized pearly gates and mansions of clouds as a reward for the pain they experienced on this terrain. What he had hoped you would have gotten to hear was that there were so many possibilities when one had faith in themselves. He wanted to show you the unlocked potential housed within yourself.

He had a lot to say as he stood before you now. There’s so much you need to know, need to hear.

First, you needed to know that you were wrong.

He said your name to get your attention.

But, there wasn’t a sound after that for a moment, until your mother and a few other members of the church came through the double doors.

________________________________________

You snapped out of the trance Miguel had you locked in with the song of your name on his lips when your mom burst into the kitchen with some of her friends.

You reach to get the cups out of a cabinet and simply ignore the deacon for a moment despite the flush in your cheeks. Easily explainable by the heat of the kitchen.

“Everything is ready! Mom, I’ve got two plates ready to go for later. Come on and eat, everyone!” Your mother’s friends all compliment her on her well behaved child and you catch her eyes. There’s no strictness in her expression. She simply beams at you, her child.

Members of the church start calling out, ‘Let’s eat!’, ‘Smells good!’, and mentioning how they knew they were in for a good meal as it was your mom that did the cooking.

As people pour into the serving area and line up, you hear Reverend Miguel’s voice above the hustle of hungry people.

“Before we enjoy this delicious looking food, let us first thank the cooks and then I suppose we should bless the meal, yes?” He was smiling as he said this, as if prayer before a meal was only a formality. It seemed as though the appreciation for you two was what he was after as you watched the church thank your mother and you for your cooking. You shrugged off the bits of praise you received as it really was your mom who did the majority of the work.

An elder member is selected to lead the church in prayer and everyone bows their head. You’re still riding a buzz from the work, not to mention seeing Miguel again after almost a week. You can’t seem to bring your eyes down.

You scanned the room of bowed heads and smiling faces and found the deacon’s gaze on you again. This time, you smiled at him and nodded in appreciation. The prayer concludes and your mother’s smile at the praise makes your heart feel warm. Due to the spotlight on her cooking she was forced to be first to get her plate of food, something she usually didn’t do until after everyone had gotten their own plate. Sometimes after they’d gotten seconds. She had found her a community of support and love.

As the church members started scooping portions onto plates, you saw Reverend Miguel approach you again. He stands by your side and you watch as the congregation gets their food and he leans to his side a little toward you. He speaks in a hushed tone as he asks,

“Can we go somewhere to talk?” You swallow dryly, but his next word nearly knocks you off your feet.

“Alone?”

#miguel o'hara #fanfic #miguel x reader #priest!miguel #miguel x you #priest au #across the spiderverse #heathenry