#Ty for all your support on my other post

[foreveryrsalex]

[theetherealbloom]

The Things I Would Do, Just To Be Here With You

Summary: Amidst the whirlwind of movie premieres and busy schedules, you and Pedro Pascal, both thriving in your respective careers, find ways to celebrate each other despite the distance. While Pedro promotes Gladiator 2 in London, he longs for your presence at the after-party.

Or, you two would scream at the stars for keeping you apart... and the government too.

“Pedro Pascal x f!reader, Pedro is promoting Gladiator 2, and reader is in Wicked (Elphaba or Galinda of course!) for the screenplay of Wicked, and they are just really supportive of each other but also joke about their own movie being the best. Finding time to come to each other’s premiers. Posting behind the scenes or visiting each other.” — From @imaginemixedfandom

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Red Carpet, Cameras, Paparazzi, Long Distance, Timezone Difference, Social Media, Interviews, I’m not a Spanish speaker, I might be wrong with the terms, please don’t come after me T^T,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Ty @imaginemixedfandom for giving the idea! I didn’t really want to replace the reader with the cast of Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. Those two are just too iconic. So instead I will make the reader a writer for the screenplay adaptation of Wicked tehe. You all should listen to brent iii by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler, it’s absolutely one of my favorite albums of this year. Lastly, remember this is all fictional and for fun! Enjoyyyy my loves!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: and the government too! By Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

gif by @andrew-garfielld

| Main Masterlist |

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING

“Hi.” Your voice was soft as you nestled deeper into the duvet, your body cocooned in its comforting folds.

“Hola, mi amor.” Pedro’s face lit up on your phone screen, the warm timbre of his voice washing over you like a balm. “I miss you.” “I miss you too… so much,” you replied with a little pout. The time difference between London and New York was merciless. Between his packed schedule promoting Gladiator 2 and prepping for Fantastic Four, and your whirlwind of work with the Wicked movie premiere, your conversations had been reduced to stolen moments like this. Still, even through a screen, Pedro had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. “You look cozy,” he said with a lopsided grin, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Meanwhile, I’m freezing my ass off here on set. I think my nose might fall off.” You laughed softly, the sound tinged with longing. “I’d trade you, you know. I’ll take the cold if it means I get to see you.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He leaned closer to the camera, his face filling your screen. “If I weren’t contractually obligated to be here, I’d hop on the next flight and show up at your premiere tomorrow. Red carpet and all.” You smiled wistfully, your fingers brushing against the edge of your phone as if you could reach through it to touch him. “You’d outshine me. Imagine the headlines: ‘Pedro Pascal steals the show at Wicked premiere.’” “Please. Everyone’s going to be talking about you. ‘Brilliant screenwriter dazzles Hollywood!’” He paused, his tone softening. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Your throat tightened at his words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Stop, or I’ll actually cry, and my face will be all puffy for tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Okay, okay. But seriously, mi amor, I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.” “And so have you,” you countered. “The Gladiator 2 trailer broke the internet, and you still found time to send me flowers last week. You’re amazing, Pedro.” “Yeah, but flowers aren’t the same as being there with you.” His voice dipped, a hint of regret slipping through. “I hate being this far away.” You sighed, your heart aching in tandem with his. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the unspoken tension of your shared longing. Then, Pedro’s grin returned, bright and mischievous. “So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “who do you think has the better movie? Be honest.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Are you seriously asking me to compare Wicked to Gladiator 2? One’s a heartfelt, magical adaptation, and the other is a testosterone-filled epic. They’re different.”

“Uh-huh,” he teased, crossing his arms. “Sounds like you’re dodging the question. I knew you were scared to admit Gladiator 2 is better.”

You scoffed, sitting up straighter in bed. “Scared? Please. I just don’t want to hurt your feelings when Wicked inevitably becomes a global phenomenon.”

Pedro laughed, the sound rich and contagious. “You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise, this would be grounds for war.”

“Lucky? You’re the lucky one,” you shot back, smirking. “I’ll prove it when I finally see you in person again. But until then…”

You brought the phone closer, pressing a soft kiss to the screen. Pedro mimicked your gesture, his lips brushing his camera lens.

“Goodnight, mi vida,” he murmured.

“Goodnight, Pedro.” Your voice was tender, laced with all the love you couldn’t put into words.

As the call ended, you clutched the phone to your chest, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. Despite the distance, despite the chaos of your lives, you knew one thing for certain: Pedro Pascal would always be worth the wait.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — MORNING

Today was the day. You were walking the red carpet for the Wicked movie premiere. A sea of celebrities, producers, fellow writers, and editors would surround you. The sheer magnitude of it all left you feeling both giddy and utterly petrified.  

You smoothed your hands over the silk robe you wore, your palms damp with nerves. While you loved the craft of storytelling, the spotlight had always felt daunting. You preferred to let your work speak for itself—a tendency that paired surprisingly well with dating Pedro Pascal, the literal human embodiment of charisma and charm.  

“There, all done,” Laura, your makeup artist, said with a satisfied grin.  

You blinked at your reflection in the mirror. Your skin glowed, your eyes were accentuated just enough to look striking without overwhelming, and your lips were painted a perfect shade of confidence.  

“You’ve outdone yourself,” you said, giving her a warm smile.  

“Of course I did,” Laura replied with a wink. “Big night for my favorite screenwriter.”  

Mia, your stylist, emerged from behind a rack of gowns, holding up the dress. “Speaking of big nights... Ready to put this beauty on?”  

You nodded, though your smile wavered. “I just wish Pedro were here,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.  

Laura and Mia exchanged sympathetic glances before Laura gently squeezed your shoulder. “You’re going to look incredible, and he’d lose his mind if he saw you. How about we take some pictures to send him? A little preview for the man himself.”  

You hesitated, glancing at your phone on the vanity. “I don’t want to distract him. He’s busy with interviews and set work. London and New York aren’t exactly next door…”  

“All is fair in love and war,” Laura teased, her giggle breaking the tension. “Come on, babe! If anything, it’ll be motivation for him to hop on the next flight.”  

Mia chimed in, smirking. “Or just to remind him what he’s missing. Trust me, teasing Pedro is a public service.”  

You laughed despite yourself, feeling the nerves lift slightly. “Fine, fine. But if he complains, I’m blaming you two.”  

They ushered you into the dress—a masterpiece of emerald silk and intricate detailing that clung perfectly in all the right places. As Mia zipped you up, Laura stepped back, her hands pressed dramatically over her heart.  

“Pedro’s going to lose his shit.”  

“You look like a literal goddess,” Mia added, spinning you toward the mirror.  

For a moment, you hardly recognized yourself. The reflection staring back radiated elegance and confidence, even if you didn’t entirely feel it yet.  

“Okay, okay. Take the pictures,” you relented, biting your lip as you tried to contain your grin.  

Laura grabbed your phone and started snapping. You struck a few playful poses, twirling and laughing as Mia adjusted the hem of your dress. It felt silly, but imagining Pedro’s reaction warmed your chest.  

Once the photos were taken, you grabbed your phone and hovered over the message screen. You debated for a moment, then attached the best photo and typed a quick message.  

You: Wish you were here. But since you’re not... Enjoy this. Don’t let it distract you too much, cariño.  

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, the familiar swoosh of the message sending making your heart race.  

The reply came faster than you expected.  

Pedro: Distract me? How am I supposed to do anything now? You look like an angel. No, better than an angel. Drop-dead stunning. 

You couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face.  

Pedro: Red carpet better be ready. They’ve got no idea who they’re dealing with tonight.  

The butterflies in your stomach multiplied tenfold. Before you could reply, another message appeared.  

Pedro: I’m so proud of you. Go knock ’em dead, mi amor. I love you.  

Your throat tightened, and you had to blink back the sudden tears threatening to ruin Laura’s hard work. You tapped out a quick reply.  

You: I love you too. Now go back to being the coolest man alive.  

“You okay over there?” Mia asked, watching you with a knowing smile.  

“More than okay,” you said softly, tucking your phone away.  

As you prepared to step into the whirlwind of the premiere, Pedro’s words echoed in your mind. Even from thousands of miles away, he made you feel invincible.  

Tonight wasn’t just about the red carpet or the glitz and glamour. It was about celebrating what you loved—and knowing Pedro would always be your biggest cheerleader, no matter where in the world he was.  

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON — AFTERNOON  

Pedro sighed deeply, his head resting against the back of his chair. The steady hum of activity on set felt like background noise, the voices and clatter muffled by the ache in his chest. His fingers drummed lightly against his thigh, the motion absent-minded, a physical echo of the restlessness he felt inside.  

He missed you.  

It wasn’t the casual longing of someone who hadn’t seen their partner in a while—it was the kind of yearning that settled into his bones, heavy and persistent. A few hundred miles of ocean separated you, but it may as well have been an entire galaxy.  

He opened his phone and scrolled back to the picture you’d sent him that morning. The emerald dress, the way it hugged your form, the way your eyes sparkled even in a still image—it took his breath away. You looked like a dream. His dream.  

“If I were there right now…” he murmured under his breath, running his thumb over the screen as if he could touch you.  

If it were as simple as hopping on a flight, he’d already be on his way. He imagined the way you’d light up when you saw him, how you’d rush into his arms. He’d bury his face in your hair, inhale your scent, and hold you so tightly that he’d forget about the world outside.  

But it wasn’t that simple. The timing was off, as it so often was with both your careers in full swing. He was tied to the production schedule of Fantastic Four, and you were in the spotlight for Wicked. The universe seemed determined to keep you apart, and for the first time in years, Pedro felt the cracks in his patience.  

He closed his eyes, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Damn stars. Damn schedules. Damn… government,” he muttered bitterly. The laugh that followed was humorless, the frustration thick in his voice.  

If he could, he’d scream at the stars for conspiring against you both. Curse the invisible forces that made life so complicated. He’d barter with time itself, twist it and stretch it, just to have you here with him for a few stolen moments.  

He wondered what you were doing right now. Were you nervous about the red carpet? Did you feel as hollow without him as he felt without you? Pedro clenched his jaw, guilt gnawing at him. You deserved to have him there, to walk that carpet with you, to hold your hand and beam with pride as you took in the applause for your work.  

“Pedro, they’re ready for you!”  

The call from a production assistant jolted him from his thoughts. He blinked, the weight of reality crashing back down as he stood and stretched.  

“Be right there,” he called back, tucking his phone into his pocket.  

As he made his way back to the soundstage, he couldn’t shake the thought of tomorrow. The Gladiator 2 premiere loomed ahead, another milestone he should be celebrating with you by his side. Instead, you’d be halfway across the world.  

But one day, he promised himself, one day, nothing will keep us apart.  

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING 

The flashing lights were relentless, casting an almost blinding glow over the red carpet. The screams of fans and the constant click of cameras created a symphony of chaos, one you weren’t entirely comfortable navigating. You’d always preferred the quiet—curled up with a book, tucked away from the world’s prying eyes.  

But tonight, you smiled and posed alongside your cast and the production crew. You owed it to them, to yourself, and to the story you’d helped bring to life.  

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Winnie Holzman, the original writer of Wicked, leaned in with a smile, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the crowd.  

You nodded, though your voice was tinged with nervousness. “It’s incredible. Overwhelming, but in the best way.”  

“You’ve done amazing work,” Dana Fox chimed in, her excitement infectious. “We wouldn’t be standing here without your screenplay tying it all together.”  

Jon M. Chu, ever the cheerleader, clapped you lightly on the back. “Tonight’s your night too. Own it.”  

You laughed softly, feeling a little more at ease with their encouragement. Together, the four of you posed for the cameras, sharing a few candid laughs before heading closer to the press area.  

As you stepped into the spotlight for interviews, the questions started flying.  

“How does it feel to see Wicked finally come to life on the big screen?”  

“It feels surreal,” you answered, your smile genuine. “Everyone on this project has poured so much heart into it. To see it come together like this is... overwhelming in the best way.”  

“You’re known for being quite private. How are you handling all the attention tonight?”  

“It’s definitely out of my comfort zone,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’m surrounded by such a talented and supportive team, which makes it easier.”  

Then, inevitably, came the question you’d been bracing for. “We couldn’t help but notice that Pedro Pascal isn’t here tonight. Do you miss him?”  

The question tugged at something deep inside you. “I miss him so much,” you said softly, your expression softening. “He’s busy promoting Gladiator 2 and filming in London. I know he wishes he could be here, just like I wish I could be there for him. We’re both incredibly proud of each other, though.” You grinned, a playful sparkle in your eyes. “But, of course, Wicked is better. Don’t tell him I said that.”  

The interviewer laughed, and you followed with a wink before stepping away.  

AFTER THE PREMIERE  

As the credits rolled and the crowd applauded, you walked alongside Jon, Winnie, and Dana toward the exit. The night air was cool and refreshing after the heat of the theater.  

“You were glowing on that carpet,” Winnie teased, nudging you gently.  

Jon smirked. “Bet it’s because of a certain someone who couldn’t make it.”  

You flushed immediately, your cheeks warming. “Stop,” you mumbled, though your smile betrayed your embarrassment.  

“Oh, come on,” Dana added with a laugh. “You were gushing about him earlier. Just admit it—you’re head over heels.”  

You sighed dramatically, though your heart raced just thinking about Pedro. “Okay, fine. I miss him like crazy. I just—” You paused, glancing up at the stars. “I wish I could be there for him, you know? For his premiere. He’s always so supportive of me. It feels wrong not to do the same.”  

Jon stopped walking, turning to face you with a thoughtful look. “So go.”  

“What?”  

“Go to him,” he said with a shrug. “Take the jet. I’ll make the call.”  

You blinked at him, stunned. “You—you’d let me do that?”  

“Of course,” Jon said, waving off your concern. “You’re part of the heart of this project. If being with him makes you happy, it’s worth it.”  

“But I don’t have a ticket, and I need to pack, and—”  

Dana held up a hand, already pulling out her phone. “Relax. I’ll call a car, and we’ll pack together. You just focus on getting there.”  

Before you could protest further, Jon had already stepped aside, dialing someone on his phone. Dana grabbed your arm and started steering you toward the waiting car.  

“You’re really doing this,” she said, grinning.  

“I—I guess I am.” Your voice trembled with excitement and nerves. “What if I don’t make it in time? What if—”  

Dana cut you off with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “You’ll make it. And even if you don’t, just being there will mean everything to him.”  

AT THE AIRPORT  

The private jet was waiting for you, its sleek frame illuminated by the glow of the runway lights. You quickly texted Pedro’s manager and assistant, letting them know you were on your way.  

You: I’m coming to London. Please don’t tell him. I want it to be a surprise.  

The response was almost immediate:  

Franklin Latt: Got it. He’s going to lose his mind—in the best way.  

As you settled into your seat and the jet began to taxi, your heart raced. Seven hours separated you from Pedro, but for the first time in days, the distance didn’t feel insurmountable.  

You leaned your head back against the seat, clutching your phone tightly as you closed your eyes. You could already picture the look on his face when he saw you.  

Just hold on, Pedro. I’m on my way.  

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING

The energy in Leicester Square was electric. Fans filled the barricades, the roar of excitement nearly drowning out the camera flashes as Pedro made his way down the red carpet. Dressed in a sharp black shirt, the top unbuttoned, slacks, his signature charm, and a warm smile lit up every interaction as he stopped to greet fans and pose for photos.

The press area was bustling, and soon Pedro found himself standing in front of a journalist holding a microphone.

“Pedro, congratulations on Gladiator 2! How does it feel to be here tonight celebrating this film?”

Pedro grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It feels incredible. This is one of those projects you dream about as an actor, and to see it all come together, to see everyone’s hard work pay off, it’s… it’s a real honor.”

The interviewer nodded. “You’ve had an amazing year, between this and your other projects. But we couldn’t help but notice that someone special in your life had a big night recently—the Wicked premiere in New York. Did you get a chance to see any photos?”

Pedro’s face lit up instantly, a laugh bubbling out of him. “Oh, I did. Believe me, I did. She sent me some pictures, and I’ve seen the ones floating around online too. I mean… she looked absolutely stunning. Like, knock-you-out, breathtakingly gorgeous. I might be a little biased, but still.”

The crowd nearby caught wind of his gushing, and a few cheers erupted. Pedro laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

“Honestly, I’m so proud of her,” he continued, his voice softening. “She poured so much of herself into that screenplay, and to see her get the recognition she deserves? It’s the best feeling in the world.”

The interviewer smiled. “There’s definitely a lot of love and mutual admiration between you two. Word on the street is you’ve got a bit of a friendly competition going on—Gladiator 2 versus Wicked. Any truth to that?”

Pedro chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, it’s absolutely true. We’ve got a bet going. She’s convinced Wicked is going to sweep the box office, and I, of course, have complete faith in Gladiator 2. Let’s just say the stakes are high—winner gets breakfast in bed for a week.”

The interviewer laughed along with him. “That’s adorable. Who’s winning so far?”

Pedro smirked. “Let’s just say she’s got me a little worried. But I’ll never admit that to her.”

LATER, BACKSTAGE

Pedro leaned against the wall, sipping from a glass of water while chatting with Paul Mescal. Their conversation flowed easily, but Pedro’s gaze kept drifting toward the entrance, as if hoping for some sort of miracle.

“You’ve got that look again,” Paul teased, nudging him with his elbow.

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning ignorance.

“The ‘I’m desperately in love and missing my girl’ look,” Paul quipped with a grin.

Denzel Washington, who had just joined the conversation, chuckled. “He’s not wrong, man. You’ve been staring off into space like a lovesick teenager.”

Joe Quinn walked by, overhearing the exchange and throwing in his two cents. “It’s cute, though. Very romantic. Someone should write a movie about it.”

Pedro rolled his eyes, though a bashful smile crept onto his face. “Okay, okay, I miss her. Can you blame me? She’s halfway across the world, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Frank, Pedro’s manager, stepped in, giving him a supportive pat on the back. “You’ve got it bad, buddy. But hey, it’s not a bad problem to have.”

Frank couldn’t help but smile to himself, already knowing what Pedro didn’t—that you were on your way. He could only imagine Pedro’s reaction when he saw you walk through those doors.

“Alright,” Pedro said with a dramatic sigh, “can we please focus on the fact that we’re here for Gladiator 2 and not my love life?”

“Sure,” Paul said, smirking. “But if she shows up, we’re all watching you lose it.”

Pedro laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that bet.”

Little did he know, he was about to owe a lot of people a round of drinks.

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING  

The crowd in the after-party buzzed with excitement, a mix of A-list chatter and glasses clinking. Pedro stood near Lux, their conversation about the night’s success lighthearted, though his gaze kept drifting toward the entrance. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, only that the ache of missing you hadn’t dulled, even amidst all the celebration.  

Lux, sharp-eyed as always, caught the slight shift in his expression and smirked. “You’ve got that look again,” she teased.  

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning nonchalance as he sipped his drink.  

“The one that screams, ‘I wish she were here.’” Lux nudged his arm playfully.  

Before he could muster a witty retort, Lux’s eyes darted toward the entrance, widening in surprise. “Well, speak of the devil…”  

Pedro turned, following her gaze, and the breath left his lungs.  

There you were, stepping into the room, your black silk gown catching the dim lights perfectly. Your hair, slightly tousled from the rush, framed your face with an effortless beauty that made his heart stop. Heads turned as you walked in with Frank, but Pedro didn’t notice anyone else.  

He froze, jaw slack, his mind racing to comprehend that you were actually here.  

“Pedro,” Lux whispered, amused. “Close your mouth before you catch a fly.”  

But Pedro couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was watch as you walked toward him, the soft smile on your lips turning into a grin as your eyes met his. He vaguely registered Joe, Paul, and Denzel laughing nearby, but he didn’t care. You were here.  

When you finally stopped in front of him, your grin widened, and you quipped, “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was terrible—there’s a movie premiere happening, and I—”  

Before you could finish, Pedro moved.  

He swept you up in his arms, lifting you off your feet as a chorus of cheers, whistles, and laughter erupted around you. You let out a surprised giggle, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he held you close, burying his face against your shoulder.  

“Dios mío,” Pedro murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re here.”  

“I’m here,” you whispered back, your fingers threading through his curls.  

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes brimming with love. “I can’t believe this. You’re really here.”  

You smiled, tears threatening to spill as you cupped his face. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun without me.”  

Pedro didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance, kissing you with a fervor that made the entire room fade away. The kiss was deep, all-consuming, and when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless.  

Your laughter broke the moment, and Pedro pressed his forehead to yours, his hands still firmly around your waist as if afraid you might disappear. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.  

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.  

“For being here. For being you. For… everything.” His voice was low, reverent. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll never stop thanking the universe for it.”  

You kissed him again, a soft press of lips this time, and smiled against his mouth. “You don’t have to thank the universe. Just let me love you.”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, his arms tightening around you. “You’re incredible, you know that?”  

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you teased, resting your head against his chest as the room slowly came back into focus.  

From the sidelines, Joe nudged Paul, chuckling. “Think he’s gonna let her go anytime soon?”  

Paul smirked. “Not a chance.”  

Denzel clinked his glass against Joe’s. “Now that’s a man in love.”  

And Pedro? He didn’t care about the laughter, the cameras, or even the early morning call time tomorrow. For now, you were in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

[v6quewrlds]

❝ infinity, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: the bengals suffer a devastating loss against the eagles. it takes everything within you to face joe, hoping you'll be able to remind him of his worth.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: wrote this so fast as soon as the request came in. ty to anon for requesting <3 it's a little sad. i'm gonna be honest, part of me wanted to write an argument where the guy wasn't throwing shit and breaking stuff. the other stuff was secondary lmao. another installment to the joe is a munch agenda.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established but unlabeled relationship, sad!joey, he raises his voice but gets put right back in line, shower sex, kind of a pity fuck but we ball, romantic doggy style, cunnilingus, cum eating???, apologies as foreplay, sappy couple activities.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.9k.

The stadium lights shone like a beacon of hope in a sea of despair, as the final whistle blew and the crowd's roar faded into a disheartened murmur. The Cincinnati Bengals had lost to the Eagles in a game that had started out so promisingly. You felt the weight of the loss in the air, thick and palpable, as you sat in the Burrow family suite, your eyes locked on the field. You knew Joe wouldn't be coming up to join you with a victory smile tonight.

As the players trickled off the field, you hugged Robin and Jimmy goodbye, the tension etched in their faces mirroring the tension coiled in your chest. They whispered their sympathy and concern for their son's mood before heading out to face the gauntlet of traffic. Your gaze followed them, watching as they disappeared into the throng of fans, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy for their escape. You knew Joe would be less than pleasant after a game like this, and you steeled yourself for the long night ahead.

The family reception area was a hum of disappointed chatter and forced smiles, but your eyes remained glued to the TV broadcasting Joe's post-game press conference. You saw the tightness in his jaw, the furrow in his brow, and the way he clenched his fists when asked about the second half's collapse. Your heart went out to him, and you hoped that once you were alone, he would let you in, let you help him bear the brunt of his emotions.

You couldn't bear to watch as Joe lifted himself from the press chair to retreat back to the locker room. You waited, sipping on a warm soda that had gone flat, feeling the condensation slip down your hand and pool at your fingertips. The other girlfriends and wives offered you words of support, but you knew their hands were full with their own distressed partners. You were on your own in this.

A delicate hand rested on your shoulder, and you turned to see the concerned face of Chase Brown's girlfriend, whose name you couldn't quite recall in the haze of the angsty loss. The shorter woman offered a small, understanding smile. "It's going to be okay," she murmured. "They’re all pros. They’ll bounce back." You nodded, mustering a smile of your own. But you knew it wasn't just the game weighing on Joe. It was the pressure, the expectations, and the unspoken fears that came with being at the top.

The minutes dragged on, turning into what felt like hours, before the locker room doors swung open and a parade of burly, ego-bruised men began to make their way out. They were a mix of anger and defeat, each one avoiding eye contact with the small group of women waiting patiently. Your eyes darted to each face, searching for the one you knew so well, the one that could bring you a semblance of peace in this chaotic aftermath. He remained elusive, a ghost in the shadows of his own misery.

Your heart hammered in your chest, lip nervously bitten raw as you watched the locker room door swing open and shut with the rhythm of the exiting players. Your eyes searched the crowd, locking with the weary eyes of the coaches who offered you a nod of sympathy. Each nod felt like a punch to the gut, reinforcing the gravity of Joe's mood. When the hallways grew quiet, you remained the sole family member standing. The emptiness of the reception area echoed the silence in your chest.

After several empty minutes that stretched on toward forever, a Bengals staff member approached you. "Ma'am," he said, his voice thick with understanding, "Joe requested that I bring you to the locker room." You nodded, swallowed the lump in your throat, and followed the man down the corridor. The air grew denser with each step, the scent of sweat and defeat growing stronger. When you reached the locker room, Joe was exactly where you had imagined he would be: slumped over his locker, staring into the abyss of his open duffle bag.

The moment your eyes met, you saw his shoulders tense and you knew he was fighting to keep his emotions in check. "You ready?" You asked, your voice soft and gentle. He didn't answer, just looked up at you with a mix of anger and defeat that made you want to wrap him in a warm embrace and whisk him away from all of this.

As you stepped closer, Joe stood up, and you could see the exhaustion etched into his features. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. The harshness of his words stung, but you knew it was the pain talking. You took his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

The two of you walked side by side through the exit path of the stadium, the clack of your footsteps echoing off the cold, concrete walls. You tried to fill the silence with gentle inquiries, but Joe remained tight-lipped, his jaw set in a firm line of anger. His hand felt clammy in yours, a contrast to the warmth of his usual touch. When you reached the car, he paused, his hand hovering over the handle. He looked at you, his blue eyes stormy with unspoken emotions.

"Do you mind driving?" he asked, his tone a mix of apology and defeat. You nodded, understanding that he needed the time and space to process. You slid into the driver's seat, your eyes gently sweeping over his tired form as he slipped into the passenger seat. The engine purred to life, and you pulled out of the parking lot, steering the two of you homeward through the deserted Cincinnati streets.

The silence in the car was heavy, broken only by the occasional hiss of the tires against the damp asphalt. Your thoughts raced, trying to find the right words to ease Joe's pain without triggering his already frayed nerves. You knew he was a man of few words, especially when he was hurt, but you had to try. "You played your heart out tonight, Joe," you said, your voice low and soothing. "The team will learn from this."

Joe's gaze remained fixed out the window, the streetlights casting shadows on his profile. "It's not just the game, babe," he finally said, his voice tight. "It's everything. The pressure, the criticism, the feeling that no matter what I do, it's never enough."

You squeezed his hand, your eyes never leaving the road. "You're more than enough, Joe," you said firmly. "They haven't given you much help since '22. It's a miracle you've taken them this far." Your words hung in the air, unanswered, but you could feel the tension in his body ease slightly.

Once you arrived home, Joe remained in the car, his hand still in yours. You waited, giving him the space he needed to gather himself. When he finally opened the door, you followed suit, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere in the car. As the two of you stepped into your quiet home, Joe's shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy sigh. You could feel the weight of his frustration, his eyes still holding the storm of his emotions.

Without a word, you led him into the living room, gesturing for him to sit on the plush couch. He sank into it, his eyes remained closed as you headed off towards the kitchen. You reached for one of the few beers stored in the fridge, figuring he could break his strict diet in the shadow of such a crushing loss. You handed him one, and as the cap twisted off, the sound echoed in the silence. He took a long pull, the tension in his throat bobbing with the effort of swallowing.

You sat down next to him, your hand resting on his knee, waiting patiently for him to speak. It was a dance you had done before, the aftermath of a tough game. The living room, usually a sanctuary of laughter and comfort, was now a battlefield of unspoken words and heavy sighs. The TV remained off, the only illumination coming from the moonlight that filtered through the blinds.

Finally, Joe opened his eyes, looking at you with a mix of anger and sadness. "We had them," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "We had the game in the bag and we let them take it." His eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, for validation. You leaned in closer, your hand moving to rest on his shoulder.

"You did everything you could," you said softly. "Sometimes, it's not all on you."

Joe's eyes searched yours, looking for a sign of doubt, but your gaze was steadfast. You knew he was a man who took his losses hard, especially when it came to football. It was his sanctuary, his escape from the world, and when it crumbled around him, it was like watching a piece of him break.

He took another sip of his beer, his eyes focused on the floor "It's not just the game," he repeated. "It's the whispers, the doubt. Everyone's watching me, expecting me to be Superman, and when I'm not, they tear me apart." Your heart ached for him, knowing he felt like the world was on his shoulders.

"You're human, Joe," you whispered, your voice filled with compassion. "You're allowed to have a bad day."

Joe's gaze met yours, his eyes searching for solace in the depths of your warm brown irises. He knew you were right, but it didn't make the sting of defeat any less potent. He took another deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. "But that's the point. I didn't have a bad day. I haven't had a bad day since I fractured my wrist." His words were laced with frustration, and you could feel the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

You kept silent, watching as he stood up from the couch with a sudden jerk. "Dammit," he cursed, the bottle of beer clutched tightly in his hand. "I can't do this anymore." He began to pace, his long strides eating up the space in the room.

"Do what?" You asked, your voice calm and measured.

Joe's eyes flashed with anger, his pacing growing more agitated. "I can't keep carrying this team on my back," he said, his voice rising. "The front office, the coaches, they all expect miracles, and when I don't deliver because I have no help on the other end, it's like I've failed them." He stopped and turned to you, his expression desperate. "I'm tired of it."

Your heart ached with love for Joe. You knew the pressure he was under, knew the kind of man he was. A man who took every loss personally, who never blamed his teammates even when they deserved it. "You haven't failed, Joe," you said, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've done everything they've asked of you and more. You can't control everything out there on the field."

But Joe was on a roll, his emotions spilling out like a dam that had been holding back a flood for too long. "They expect me to be perfect, and when I'm not, it's like the world's ending," he continued, his voice rising with every word. "And what do I get for it? I get fuckin' thrown out there to face the press and tell them we're working on it, we're gonna fix it." He slammed the beer bottle down on the coffee table, the sound echoing through the room.

Your eyes widened at his outburst, the fear of his anger turning into something more volatile rising in your chest. But you remained calm, your voice a gentle reprieve from the storm raging inside Joe. "They're just doing their job," you offered. "They don't mean to put it all on you. You're just an easy target."

Joe scoffed, turning away from you. "Easy target? That's all I am to them. A face to put on the cover of the Bengals' shit show." His hands balled into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white.

You stood, moving closer to him, your  hand reaching out to touch his arm. "Joe, you need to take a deep breath. You're working yourself up over this."

Joe spun around, his eyes flashing. "You don't get it!" he snapped, and you took a step back, your hand dropping to your side. It was a line the two of you had never crossed before, the sound of his raised voice a crushing reminder of the unspoken rule you had both agreed upon.

For a moment, the room was still, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside your windows. Then Joe's shoulders dropped, and the anger drained from his face, leaving only a tired, defeated man. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to yell."

"But you did," you said softly, your voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "And that's not how we agreed to handle things." You didn't mean to be harsh, but you needed him to understand that his behavior had crossed a line. "I know you're upset, Joe. But I can't be your punching bag. I'm not the reason why you're angry."

Joe's took a deep breath, his chest deflating as he nodded slowly, regret etched on his face. "You're right. I'm sorry." He stepped closer, reaching for you, but you stepped back out of his grasp, needing a moment to collect yourself.

"I know you're hurt and frustrated, but that's not an excuse," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "I'm here for you, but I need you to talk to me, not at me."

Joe's gaze dropped to the floor, his eyes brimming with regret. He took a deep breath, his chest heaving with the effort to keep his emotions in check. "You're right," he murmured. "I'm sorry." He reached out to you again, this time with a softness that you recognized. You let out a sigh of relief, letting yourself be drawn into his embrace. He held you tight, his body trembling slightly with the weight of his apology.

"It's okay," you whispered, stroking his hair. "I know it's hard. And I'm sorry this is what you're dealing with."

Joe nodded into your embrace, his breaths slowly evening out.

"I'm going to take a shower, okay?" You said, pulling away from Joe's embrace. "I need a moment to think." You didn't wait for his response, heading upstairs to your bedroom. You could feel his eyes on your back, heavy with regret and sadness.

In the bathroom, you turned the shower knob, letting the hot water cascade over you. The steam filled the room, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, but it couldn't wash away the tension that clung to you like a second skin. You stepped under the spray, letting the water beat down on you, the sound of it a white noise that drowned out the world outside. You felt the tightness in your muscles begin to ease as the heat seeped into your bones.

Midway through your shower, the bathroom door creaked open. Your heart skipped a beat, expecting Joe to come in, apologize again, but instead, you felt his hands on your waist, his body pressing against yours. You tensed, ready to pull away, but when he whispered, "I'm sorry," into your ear, you melted into his touch. His warm skin settled against your wet skin, and you allowed yourself to be held, to be a source of comfort for him.

The water rained down on the two of you  as Joe's hands began to move over your body, his gentle touch soothing your nerves. His lips found the crook of your neck, kissing tenderly, and you closed your eyes, letting his apology wash over you. The loofah in his hand glided across your skin, scrubbing away the sweat and anxiety from the game, and with it, the tension of the evening.

"I'm sorry," Joe murmured again, his voice barely audible over the shower. "I shouldn't have snapped." His hands moved to your shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the taut muscles, trying to ease the knots of your frustration.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes closed. "It's okay," you said, your voice wavering slightly. "We all have our moments." Joe's grip tightened, and you could feel his need to be closer, to erase the space between you.

"What did you think of the game?" Joe asked, his voice a gentle rumble in the confines of the shower. You could feel the tension in his body as he worked to scrub away the physical and emotional grime of the loss.

"You played hard, like you always do," you replied, your voice echoing off the tiles. "But the team's chemistry was off. On both sides of the ball." You knew Joe didn't need to hear about the interceptions or the fumbles, but rather, the underlying issues that had led to their defeat.

"Yeah, I could feel it," Joe mumbled, his voice tight with frustration. "It's like we forgot how to play as a team." You nodded, your eyes still closed as Joe's hands moved down your back, tracing the lines of your spine. "They're relying on you too much," you said, your voice firm. "You can't do everything on your own."

The loofah stilled for a moment, and you felt Joe's chest expand with a deep breath. Deciding to continue delivering your thoughts, you sighed and said, "The secondary needs to step up, and the coaches need to get their act together." The warmth of his hands resumed their gentle massage, a silent acknowledgment of your words.

"I know," Joe murmured, his voice thick with frustration. "It's just..." He trailed off, unable to find the words. You knew his thoughts well, the pressure of being a quarterback, the weight of a city's hopes and dreams on his shoulders.

When the two of you met, Joe was a 3rd string quarterback with no chance of touching a football during a game at Ohio State. You, a nutrition major, found his quiet confidence fascinating. As you grew closer, you saw the fiery competitiveness that fueled his ambition. When he told you he was transferring to Louisiana State with a real chance at being QB1, you knew it was a risk well worth taking. His meteoric rise to not only a National Championship but the Heisman and the first overall pick in the NFL Draft only proved the belief you had in him from the beginning. You weren't supposed to be here together, with Joe the face of an NFL franchise. But here you were, navigating the tumultuous waters of professional sports and superfame.

But tonight, as the hot water streamed over your bodies, the reality of your situation crashed down on Joe like a heavy wave. "I'm just tired of being the scapegoat," he whispered against your neck, his breath hot and urgent. "They expect me to be perfect, and when I'm not, it's all on me." Your heart broke a little more with each word, knowing he was right but hating that he felt that way.

"You're not a scapegoat, Joe," you said, turning in his arms to face him. "You're the best thing that's happened to this team in years." The sincerity in your eyes was unmistakable. "They just need to realize that you and Ja'Marr aren't enough to win games by yourselves."

Joe's expression softened, his eyes searching yours. "I know," he said, his voice barely a murmur. "But it's hard not to feel like it sometimes." You nodded, understanding his pain. "Let's not talk about the game anymore," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "You need to relax."

He pulled you closer, his hands moving over your body with a new urgency, the tension in his muscles giving way to a different kind of need. You could feel his desire, his desperation to connect with you, to lose himself in something that wasn't football. You kissed him back, your own needs rising to the surface.

The loofah fell to the shower floor, forgotten, as your hands found each other's bodies, exploring and reassuring. The steam grew thicker, wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of heat and wetness, the outside world fading away. You kissed with a passion that was both fiery and tender, your bodies moving in a silent dance of apology and understanding.

You felt Joe's hands move to your hips, pulling you closer, his arousal unmistakable against you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your own desire matching his, as you found solace in the intimacy of your shared space. The water washed away the tension of the game, your movements becoming more urgent, more primal.

"Take your frustrations out on me," you murmured against his ear, your breath hot and needy. Joe's response was to push you against the cool tiles, his hands roaming over your wet body, exploring every curve and crevice. He kissed you with a hunger that spoke volumes of his need for release.

Without hesitation, Joe's hands found your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your hardened nipples. You gasped, your eyes closing as sensations of pleasure shot through your body. His mouth moved from your neck to your chest, kissing and sucking, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. Your own hands were busy, sliding down his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin, your nails digging in slightly as you urged him closer.

Your kisses grew deeper, more demanding, as the water continued to beat down on you. Your legs tightened around Joe's waist, pulling him closer, feeling his erection pressing against you. The sound of your bodies colliding against the tiles filled the small space, echoing off the walls. You were lost in each other, the pain of the loss momentarily forgotten.

Joe's hand slid down your body, finding the apex of your thighs. He teased you gently at first, his thumb brushing through your slick folds as you moaned into his mouth. Your hips rolled into his touch, seeking more. He groaned, his own desire spiking at your responsiveness.

With a swift move, Joe lifted you off the tiles, carrying you out of the shower, water still cascading off your bodies. He sat you on top of the bathroom counter, not caring about the wetness. His need for you was all-consuming, a fiery hunger that only you could satiate. You watched him with half-lidded eyes, your breaths coming in short pants as his hands slid over you, exploring every inch of your wet skin.

Your kisses grew more urgent as Joe's fingers delved into you, finding you already slick with desire. Your back arched, a keening cry escaping your lips as he touched you with a precision that spoke of a deep, intimate knowledge. His other hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You could feel his own need, his cock pressing in between your spread thighs, demanding entry.

"Fuck me," you breathed, your voice a low, urgent plea as Joe's touch brought you to the brink of ecstasy. You could feel the tension in his body, the anger and frustration that had been building all night, now redirected into a passion that was as intense as it was raw. He didn't respond verbally, instead choosing to show you with his actions that he heard you. He slid into you with a smoothness that contrasted his desperation, filling you completely.

You each sighed at the feeling of Joe stretching your pussy open, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you shared, a bond that transcended the game, the expectations, the disappointments. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs locking around his waist as he began to move inside you. Each stroke was a declaration of his need, a silent apology for his earlier outburst, and a promise to be there for you.

Your bodies moved in rhythm, the sound of your skin slapping together mixing with your muffled moans and gasps. Your breath hitched as Joe's cock hit just the right spot, sending waves of pleasure through your core. You rocked your hips against him, urging him deeper, faster, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers tugging at his dirty blonde hair. His gaze was intense as it held yours, the blue of his eyes almost black in the dim light, his pupils blown with desire.

Joe's mouth trailed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, making you shiver with excitement. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements, urging you closer to the edge. His own need was palpable, his breathing harsh and erratic as he thrust into you with a fervor that was both aggressive and tender.

"You're so wet," Joe growled, his voice thick with lust, as he pumped into you. You could feel his muscles tense with every thrust, the power behind each one a stark contrast to his gentle strokes from earlier. "So fucking wet for me."

Your nails dug into his back, urging him on. "Yes, Joey," you moaned. "Take it out on me." Your words were a catalyst, pushing him past his limits. He slammed into you, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the bathroom.

Your eyes never left each other as Joe's pace grew more frenzied, his strokes more demanding. Your head fell back, your eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock nudged at that soft muscle inside you that made your legs shake. Your walls tightened around him, a silent plea for more.

"You like that, don't you?" Joe grunted, his voice a gruff rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed as you moaned brokenly in response. His hand found the side of your face, tilting it to meet his gaze, the intensity in his eyes burning into your soul.

"Fuck yes, I do," you managed to gasp, your voice breathless with need. The feeling of Joe's thick cock filling you up was heavenly, the friction causing a delicious burn. You felt his thumb pressing against the side of your throat, a gesture that usually sent you over the edge, but tonight, you were holding onto the precipice, needing the climax to wash away the sting of his earlier words.

"Oh, baby, yes," you panted, your breaths coming in quick gasps. "Right there." The sensation was almost too much, but you craved it, needed it, to drown out the noise from the evening's loss. Joe's eyes darkened with hunger, and he pushed harder, deeper, hitting your g-spot with unwavering precision.

"I'm so sorry for earlier," Joe murmured, his voice a raw, passionate whisper. "You mean everything to me." His movements grew more deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he worked to bring you to climax. You felt the walls of your pussy clench around him, your orgasm building with every stroke.

"You're always so good to me," you breathed, your voice a sweet symphony of pleasure. "Don't ever doubt that."

Your words hit Joe like a sucker punch to the gut, the weight of his emotions suddenly too much to bear. He kissed you again, a deep, desperate kiss that conveyed every ounce of his love and regret. His thrusts grew erratic, his body trembling with the effort to hold back his release. Your eyes widened with understanding, and you leaned in, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as you matched his rhythm, your body moving in perfect sync with his.

"I'll spend every second of the rest of my life making it up to you," Joe said between ragged breaths, his eyes searching yours for forgiveness. You knew he meant it, that his love was as unshakable as the determination that made him the star quarterback he was.

Your own climax was building, the pressure in your core growing with every thrust. You could feel Joe's cock swell even more, his grip on your hips tightening. The world outside your bubble of passion didn't matter anymore. Only this moment, your connection, your love, and the release that was so close.

"I forgive you," you whispered, your eyes brimming with emotion as you felt the beginnings of your climax. You squeezed your eyes shut, your body tightening around Joe's cock, your pussy fluttering with each stroke. "Can't help it when you make me feel so good," you added with a small, breathless laugh.

The sound of Joe's harsh breathing filled your ears as he drove into you, his movements becoming more frantic. You could feel the tension in his body, the need to come, to let go of the anger and the pain. You tightened your legs around him, your heels digging into his firm ass as you urged him on with your moans. Your bare chests pressed against each other, gasping desperately into each other's open mouths as your inaccurate, sloppy kisses grew more feverish.

"I need you to come, baby," Joe groaned into your ear, his voice desperate. "Need to make it up to you." 

You felt the tension coiling in her belly, the heat of Joe's breath on your skin setting your nerves alight. You knew he was close, could feel his cock pulsing inside you. With one final, powerful thrust, Joe's grip on your hips tightened, and he came with a roar, filling you with his hot, thick release.

Joe's movements slowed, his cock still pulsing inside you, his breathing ragged as he kissed along your neck. You giggled softly, the tension of the evening finally beginning to dissipate. "I've got you," you murmured, stroking his hair gently as he caught his breath. "You don't have to make it up to me."

With a final, lingering kiss, Joe pulled out of you, the connection breaking with a slick pop. He stepped back, his gaze lingering on your brown skin and the way your chest heaved with every breath you took. "But I want to," he said, his voice still thick with passion. "I need to."

You nodded softly as your hands reached up to cup Joe's face, your thumbs tracing the lines of his cheekbones. "I know you do, baby," you said gently. You leaned in to kiss him, your love washing over him with a gentle warmth that seemed to seep into his bones. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as your kiss grew more intense, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tangling with yours.

"Gonna eat you out until you can't think straight," Joe said, his voice gruff with lust as he lifted you off the counter, setting you feet down gently onto the plush bath mat then turning you to face the mirror on top of the counter. He dropped to his knees before you, his eyes tracing over your smooth skin as he kissed your spine, your thighs. You felt your legs wobble slightly, but you remained standing, your hands planted firmly on the counter for balance.

Joe's tongue traced a line up your inner thigh, the sensation causing you to quiver with anticipation. His hand found your ass cheek first, giving it a gentle squeeze before moving to the back of her thigh, urging your legs apart. Your breath hitched as his warm breath danced over your folds, the anticipation of his touch almost too much to handle.

"We taste so good together, baby," Joe murmured, his tongue darting out to tease your clit. Your head fell back, a soft moan escaping your lips as he began to feast on you. His tongue flicked and circled, his mouth suckling you in a way that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body. You could feel yourself getting wetter, your juices mixing in with his cum still leaking from your aroused pussy.

The feeling of Joe's mouth on you was almost too much, the intimacy of the moment washing away the last remnants of the day's anger and frustration. Your legs began to shake, your breaths coming in short gasps as Joe's mouth worked its magic. You watched the movement of his head in the mirror, his eyes closed in concentration, his cheeks hollowing as he took you in.

Joe's tongue slid into you, the sensation so intense you had to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. Your nails dug into the countertop, the pain grounding you as you felt your orgasm building again. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you forget everything except the heat between the two of you. Your  hips began to rock against his mouth, your body begging for release.

"Yes," you moaned, your voice echoing off the bathroom walls. "Just like that, Joey." 

Joe's eyes snapped open, looking up at you through the wet strands of his hair, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched you unravel. His tongue delved deeper, exploring your warmth, savoring your taste.

"I'm gonna make you come so hard," Joe whispered against you, his breath hot on your sensitive skin. You felt his tongue swirl around your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his mouth closed around it, sucking hard. You couldn't hold back the moan that tore from your throat, the sound echoing off the walls of the bathroom as you shuddered with pleasure.

"Shit—I'm gonna come," you whimpered, your knees buckling slightly as Joe's mouth worked its magic. He held you steady, his simultaneously pushing you firmly against the counter and keeping your ass spread wide for him, his mouth unrelenting. You felt your climax build, a crescendo of pleasure that seemed to go on forever.

"Keep doing that," you panted, your body quivering as Joe's skilled tongue danced against your clit. You leaned heavily on the counter, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the orgasm build, the tension in your thighs and stomach tightening. Joe's grip on your legs was firm, his mouth relentless as he brought you closer to the edge.

Joe whispered against you again, "Love eating this perfect pussy, love making you come," and your eyes rolled back in your head, the sensation of his mouth on your clit overwhelming. The pressure grew unbearable, your legs trembling as you held onto the counter for dear life.

"Yes," you hissed through clenched teeth, your hips jerking in response to Joe's skilled movements. The pressure built higher and higher until you couldn’t take it anymore. With a strangled cry, you came, your body convulsing in the throes of ecstasy. Joe didn't stop, continuing to lick and suck, drawing out your orgasm until you were left panting and boneless against the counter.

He licked you through your orgasm, savoring the taste of your mixed pleasures as you trembled under his touch. Your legs gave out, and Joe supported your weight from his spot on the floor, his face still buried between your thighs. You leaned into him, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of your climax. With a final, lingering kiss to your sensitive clit, Joe stood up, his eyes locking with yours in the mirror. You felt the heat of embarrassment under his gaze, your heart racing from the intensity of yiur lovemaking. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice hoarse from your moans.

"Don't thank me," Joe said, his own voice thick with emotion. You laughed softly as his tongue darted out in an attempt to capture one last taste of you. "Let me help you clean up," you offered, turning in his arms. Your thumbs wiped the corners of his mouth, smearing a bit of your juices onto his cheeks. He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm before letting it go.

The two of you stepped back into the shower, the warm water cascading over your bodies, washing away the evidence of your passion. You took the loofah from the shower caddy, lathering it with Joe's favorite scented body wash—yours. You began to run it over his chest, your touch gentle as you worked your way down his body. His muscles relaxed under your ministrations, the tension of the evening dissipating with each stroke.

Joe's eyes remained on you, watching your movements with a quiet contentment that you hadn't seen in several long weeks. "You okay?" you asked softly, your voice echoing in the shower.

"Better," Joe murmured, his gaze dropping to your breasts, the water cascading over you, mixing with the soap. "Much better." He stepped closer, pressing you against the cold tiles, his hands taking the loofah from you. As the last of the soap fell from your bodies, Joe placed the loofah back in its caddy, his arms wrapping around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. You felt your toes curl into the mat, your body responding to him without hesitation.

Your heated kisses waned off into slow pecks and gentle nibbles as the warm water rinsed the soap away. Joe's hands trailed down your sides, tracing the curves of your body with a tenderness that made your heart swell with affection. He whispered sweet words into your ear, his breath tickling your neck, and you felt a smile bloom on your lips as you leaned into him, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

"Mmm," you murmured, your eyes half-lidded with contentment as Joe's hands roamed your body. He took his time, savoring your curves, his thumbs grazing the sides of your breasts and sending shivers down your spine. Your own hands slid over his shoulders, feeling the strength and power beneath your fingertips, a physical reminder of the man you loved. There was no heat to your movements, no rush of sexual longing. Instead, it was a gentle exploration, a silent reassurance that you two were okay.

"You're so beautiful," Joe murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble that sent warmth pooling in your belly.

You chuckled, leaning your head against his chest. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true," Joe said, his voice firm. He kissed the top of your head, holding you close. You stood like that for a moment, the water falling over you. The anger and frustration of the evening had morphed into a gentle affection that filled the small space, dispelling any lingering tension.

The two of you finished showering, toweling off and wrapping yourselves in the plush robes that hung on the back of the door. As you brushed your teeth and ran through your individual night routines, Joe couldn't help but watch you move in the mirror. Your eyes sparkled with a softness that seemed to warm the room, and the way you moved, even in something as mundane as brushing your teeth, was mesmerizing.

Once you were both ready for bed, you crawled in, Joe pulling you into his arms. You lay there for a while, your legs entwined, just holding each other and listening to the steady beat of each other's hearts. The silence was comfortable, a stark contrast to the earlier chaos of emotions. You felt Joe's hand run down your side, his thumb tracing the curve of your waist before resting on your hip. You knew he was still thinking about the game, about his performance, but you didn't push. Instead, you offered your warmth.

"You know you played your best," you said after a few moments, your voice soothing as you stroked his chest. "It's just one game, Joe. You'll keep working, keep getting better."

Joe sighed, his blue eyes closed in an attempt to reach sleep. "I know," he said, his voice tight with exhaustion. "But I hate letting down the team, the fans, you."

You turned to face him, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "You didn't let anyone down," you said firmly. "Sometimes, things just don't go as planned. It's not your fault."

Joe nodded, his eyes searching yours, looking for the reassurance he desperately needed. "Thanks, baby," he murmured, his voice soft with emotion. "I love you."

You leaned in and kissed him gently, your lips a gentle balm to his bruised ego. "You know I love you, too," you said, your voice a gentle whisper. "And I'm in this for the long haul. Win or lose, I'll be here for pity fucks and cuddles. Whatever you need."

Joe couldn't help but chuckle, the tension in the room dissipating like mist in the sun. "Pity fucks, huh?" He teased, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds kind of sad," you smirked, poking him lightly in the ribs. Joe's chuckle grew into a full-blown laugh, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. The sound was music to your ears, a melody of relief after the storm of emotions.

"Go to sleep, Joey. Tomorrow's a new day, and you're going to need your rest," you said, your voice soothing as you stroked his chest. Joe nodded, his eyes already drooping with exhaustion. The two of you lay there, your bodies entangled, until sleep claimed you both.

[norrisainz33]

Volley || OP81

☆ summary: in which oscar is obsessed with his olympic volleyball playing wife

☆ pairing: oscar piastri x olympic!reader

☆ fc & warnings: jordan thompson + pinterest & none

☆ requested: yes! thank you for the oscar and volleyball suggestion ���

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by landonorris, mclarenf1, yourbff, ynpiastri, and 576,293 others

oscarpiastri: one last little trip before my gorgeous wife (god i love saying that) heads to paris! good luck champ 🧡

view all 453 comments

user1: when will it be my turn

user2: they’re the cutest newly weds i hate it (i love it)

landonorris: let’s gooooo mrs piastri!!!!

ynpiastri: thank you lan 🥹

nicolepiastri: i’m so proud of you y/n/n!

ynpiastri: love you mama p 🤍

ynpiastri: thank you for the best getaway. see you soon my love 🫶🏻

oscarpiastri: i’ll be waiting with open arms 🤍

ynpiastri has made a post

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, teamusa, yourbff, and 45,345 others

ynpiastri: reporting live from paris!!! ready for my first ever olympics with the best team i could ever ask for. let’s get it girls 💪🏻

view all 201 comments

user3: my god she’s gorgeous

user4: hit that ball!! or whatever it is you do in volleyball idk i love you and hope you win

lewishamilton: you got this 💪🏻

ynpiastri: thank you lew 🤍

user5: never watched volleyball before but you know darn well im tuning in for mrs piastri 🗣️

mclarenf1: sending love from the mtc

alexandrasaintmleux: good luck pretty girl

ynpiastri: says the prettiest girl

oscarpiastri: yes, that first picture is my phone background now! thank you!

ynpiastri: you’re so cute stop 🥹

landonorris: he’s telling the truth i saw it

texts between you and oscar

teamusa has made a post

liked by oscarpiastri, ynpiastri, yourbff, yourteammate1, yourteammate2, mclarenf1 and 89,567 others

teamusa: and just like that, our girls are headed to the next round! USA’s volleyball teams sweeps France to move onto the quarterfinals 💪🏻🇺🇸

view all 235 comments

user8: Y/N SPOTTING

ynpiastri: could not be more proud of this team 😭

user24: we could not be more proud of you y/n

yourbff: AND I AM SO PROUD OF YOU MS GIRL

logansargeant: ayooo let’s goooo!!

user12: logan being here is so important to me ok

user18: loscar crumbs 🥲

oscarpiastri: that’s my wife 🗣️

user22: we know buddy, no one’s tryna take her

oscarpiastri: absolutely incredible match! so proud of everyone on this team

user65: oscar supporting everyone not just his girl is so wholesome

user66: oscar is the politest cat, making sure he compliments everyone

user88: america 🇺🇸 🦅🇺🇸

user24: came for y/n, staying bc i know love volleyball

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by yourbff, ynpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and 756,021 others

oscarpiastri: it’s missing y/n o’clock so enjoy some photos from our honeymoon. the gold medal match is tomorrow so i expect you all to tune in!

view all 432 comments

user13: ty for reminding me i’m single

user14: mans is obsessed with his wife

landonorris: down bad o’clock i see

maxverstappen1: oh let him be! you’ll understand one day

oscarpiastri: what max said !!!

landonorris: okok i get it, i don’t know what it’s like to be a husband or whatever

ynpiastri: and when i say i miss you more?

oscarpiastri: brb hopping on a plane to paris

mclarenf1: oscar you have a race tomorrow

ynpiastri: pretty please admin

mclarenf1: who’s gonna drive the car then?

ynpiastri: zak!

mclarenf1: 🥹 be for real y/n/n

ynpiastri has added to their story

view story replies

oscarpiastri: how do you manage to always look so beautiful???

ynpiastri: osc 😭 you’re too sweet

oscarpiastri: never too sweet for you

landonorris: who’s your teammate 👀

ynpiastri: off limits norris

landonorris: you never let me have any fun y/n

ynpiastri: for good reason!!!

yourbff: you are glowing

user13: our favorite olympian fr

user22: i’ll be watching and screaming for mrs piastri like my life depends on it

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by ynpiastri, logansargeant, mclarenf1, maxverstappen1, landonorris, yourbff, and 324,387 others

oscarpiastri: y/n “gold medalist” piastri. that’s it, that’s the post

view all 516 comments

user44: yayyayayyayayaay !!!!!!

carmenmundt: my favorite volleyball star

georgerussell63: mine too!

logansargeant: RAHHHH AMERICA 🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸 (did i do it right?)

ynpiastri: yes 🤍

user2: AHAHA LOGAN

user3: he’s one of us

user66: my mom won her first gold medal not long after my dad won his first grand prix 🥹 oh i love them

landonorris: DO YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING CROM HERE?!

ynpiastri: omg that was you?

user4: i love their friendship

mclarenf1: congratulations mrs piastri!!!

nicolepiastri: that’s our girl! what an incredible moment 🧡

user88: so proud so proud

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by ynpiastri, yourbff, teamusa, lewishamilton, mclarenf1 and 876,355 others

oscarpiastri: my gold medal baby is home

view all 608 comments

user18: husband oscar content 😭

landonorris: thank goodness, i couldn’t handle you crying about missing her anymore

ynpiastri: u were crying abt missing me too you muppet

landonorris: your point?

ynpiastri: glad to be back with you my boy 🤍

oscarpiastri: glad you’re back but i’m already looking forward to the next olympics!! i love seeing my girl succeed

logansargeant: a bunch of simps 🤭

user19: if my partner doesn’t post me like this i don’t want it

user22: @.my partner take notes 🗣️

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

a/n: another installment of the olympic reader! as always thank you for reading 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

© norrisainz33: please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[leclercmode]

golden couple ☁️ charles leclerc

request: can you do a female footballer player smau for charles please? maybe they see her pop up in the paddock and him in the stands, sort of secret but not private kind of thing? could it be set around the fifa women’s world cup if that’s not too much to ask? thank you!

couple: f1 driver! charles x footballer! reader

face claim: jana fernandez & aitana

NOW: F1 2023 US GP Charles Leclerc Post Race Interview

comments ⬇️

user1 he’s such a fan, cute!!

user2 she’s a world champion of course he wants a picture with her

user3 NO BUT I WANT TO SEE THEM TOGETHER SO BAD

user4 omg… he absolutely has a crush on her

user5 im loving this f1 x football crossover

user6 “which team is yn supporting?” NO HES SO CUTE

user7 he wanted her cheering for ferrari so bad

user8 how can he be so hot and respectful

ynusername has added to their story

charles_leclerc has added to their story

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, leomessi, and 1.239.835 others

ynusername champions league winner and vacation with my bae <3

View all 8.927 comments

charles_leclerc you’re the best!!!! love you endlessly.

ynusername @charles_leclerc no, YOU are!!! ty for the support, bae. love you!

charles_leclerc @ynusername any time ♾️

user9 @charles_leclerc i LOVE how support u guys are to each other

user10 GOAT 🤞🏻 we are so grateful to have you in our team

lewishamilton let’s GO 🙌🏻 you are the best, keep going!

ynusername @lewishamilton thank you so much, my friend!! see you soon 🫶🏻

user11 @lewishamilton LEWIS WOWNDIWJS

user12 @lewishamilton always knew lewis is a culer

user13 @user12 dude is a yn supporter

lewishamilton @user13 true!!

user14 congratulations, yn!!

user15 #MadeInLaMasia vamossss 🙌🏻

landonorris you TRULY is the GOAT, keep pushing!!!!

ynusername @landonorris tysm for EVERYthing!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

user16 yn in loved by everyone

charles_leclerc

Liked by lewishamilton, pedri, and 2.827.712 others

charles_leclerc i can only feel proud of everything you've achieved! i know how hard you've worked for all of this and i'm sure culers recognize your hard work. i love you so much, my love. you are, literally, the best in the world. #️⃣1️⃣‼️☝🏻✨

View all 18.917 comments

pedri 💙❤️👏🏻

user17 gràcies, yn!!! ets la millor 💗 (thank you, yn!! you are the best)

user18 they are pure magic and talent together

user19 just cried with joy

lewishamilton another one!! they just gave an object to something we already knew, the best in the world 💪🏻✨

charles_leclerc @lewishamilton tell her, my friend. 🙂‍↕️

lewishamilton @charles_leclerc let's talk about what everyone already knows, buddy!!

ynusername @lewishamilton @charles_leclerc thank u to my ferrari (and future ferrari) boys 🤷🏻‍♀️

arthur_leclerc my sister-in-law is the GOAT 🐐

ynusername @arthur_leclerc i’ve achieved all this because of you guys, thank you for everything ♾️

user20 charles being proud of yn and saying she’s the best making me emotional 😢 like,,, that’s true love and pure joy!!!!!!!

user21 I JUST WOKE UP AND THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER TO WAKE UP TO

user23 their love is so palpable. so cute to witness.

NOW: “I’m living my best life” | Emotional Charles Leclerc On His Home Win

comments ⬇️

user24 imagine achieving one of your biggest dreams and still talking about your girl’s achievements, dude is in love asf!!!!

user25 love them both

user26 such a wholesome couple. they both deserve happiness.

user27 gosh i’m so jealous

user28 I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE

user29 seeing them together makes me believe more in love

user30 THEY ARE SO CUTE

[cheftsunoda]

smau where max dates sainz sister who he met back in torro rosso era

sainz sister is a chef :))

ty if u do this one!!

thank you for the request! i absolutely love this idea- hope you like it. as always y’all requests are open!

chefs kiss

“amelia sainz is a world renowned chef, she is loved by many and happens to hold the record for the most michelin stars. she is also the sister of formula 1 driver, carlos sainz- when amelia returns to the paddock after a 2 year hiatus- a certain driver might fall in love with an old friend.”

—

ameliasainz just posted!

liked by carlossainz55, iamrebeccad, lando & 2,234,953 others.

ameliasainz : after two years of traveling the world and being able to cook in some of the best restaurants with some of the best chefs in the world- i am returning home. i am beyond excited to be reunited with my friends and family and there are so many exciting projects for me in the future. thank you all for all of your support and i adore you all!

carlossainz55 : So proud of you, hermana. I can’t wait to see you ❤️

liked by author

ameliasainz : mi carlitos- i missed you dearly ❤️

liked by carlossainz55

carlossainz55 : Seems like you will return just in time for the Spanish GP👀

liked by author

ameliasainz : you know i will be there supporting the best big brother :)

liked by carlossainz55, iamrebeccad, lando and maxverstappen1

lando : YAYYYY AMELIA I MISSED YOU

liked by author

ameliasainz : aw landooo i missed you too- has carlos been nice to you?

liked by lando

lando : meh he has kind of been cranky since you left but so have i tbh

lando : never leave me again

liked by author

carlossainz55 : When Amelia is around i feel that I am no longer your favorite Sainz.

liked by author and lando

lando : no comment

carlossainzoficial : Me alegro mucho de que hayas vuelto a casa. Te extrañé, hija mía.

liked by author

ameliasainz : Te extrañé mucho papá. Te amo.

iamrebeccad : So excited to see you again, my sister! I love youuuu

liked by author

ameliasainz : my beccssss! i love you even more

liked by iamrebeccad and carlossainz55

alexandrasaintmleux : ^^girls night when you get back??

liked by author, iamrebeccad, fraciscacgomes, lilymhe, carmenmmundt

ameliasainz : absolutely my loves!!

lilymhe : will you please cook for girls night?? i haven’t had your delicious food in forever

liked by author

franciscacgomes : yes PLEASEEE COOK FOR US bb

liked by author

pierregasly : you better bring me leftovers home kika

liked by author

charles_leclerc : I’m inviting myself to girls night for the food..and I missed Amelia.

liked by author

carlossainz55 : HEY HEY she is MY sister- if she is cooking for anyone - ITS ME.

liked by author

lando : don’t be greedy carlos - share.

liked by author

alexalbon : your greed sickens me carlos, let her share her gift.

liked by author

ameliasainz : omg I missed you all so much- I will cook for each and every one of you- I promise!!

reyesvdec : Mi hermosa niña. Estoy muy orgullosa de ti.

liked by author

ameliasainz : te amo mamá

blancasainz95 : Estoy tan emocionada de verte y de que me alimentes😚

liked by author

maxverstappen1 : Excited to see you back in the paddock, A.

liked by author

ameliasainz : missed you, campeón! 🦁

liked by maxverstappen1

—

flashback - 2015 - amelias pov

The paddock always had a strange sort of rhythm. Controlled chaos. Engines roaring in the background, people moving with purpose, everything fast-paced and timed to the second. I had grown up with it—trailing behind Carlos, watching him rise through the ranks until the world knew him the way I always had.

that day had a different feeling to it.

I wasn’t sure if it was the heat in the air or the buzz of the Grand Prix weekend, but something had me on edge. I told myself it was just being around the circus again after a few months away. That was all.

Then I turned the corner by the motorhome—and saw him.

Max Verstappen.

He was my brother’s newest teammate and I had never had the official honor of meeting him- yet. Him and I happened to be the same age- pretty impressive he was starting in F1 at age 17.

Carlos was laughing at something Max had said, casual as ever. His face lit up when he saw me approaching, coffee in hand.

“There she is!” he called out. “Took you long enough.”

I smirked, passing him his coffee. “Sorry, your majesty. Some of us don’t have a scooter and an entourage.”

Carlos rolled his eyes, then gestured toward Max. “Amelia, this is Max. Max—Amelia.”

And suddenly, those bright blue eyes were on me.

Max extended his hand, easy confidence in every movement. “Nice to finally meet you. Heard a lot about you.”

I tried not to stare—but god, he was tall. And way better looking up close. That calm kind of handsome that snuck up on you the longer you looked.

“Good things, I hope,” I replied, slipping my hand into his.

He tilted his head slightly, smirking. “Depends who I heard them from.”

My laugh came out before I could help it. Nervous. Too obvious. Carlos didn’t notice—or maybe he did, and just enjoyed watching me squirm.

The conversation flowed easily after that. Carlos talked, mostly—something about the simulator and Max’s reaction times—but my attention kept drifting. Max wasn’t what I expected. He was sharp, witty in a way that didn’t try too hard, and… he kept looking at me.

Not in a creepy way. Just—present. Like I had his full attention when I spoke. Like he noticed the way my brow furrowed when Carlos teased me or how my fingers tightened around my coffee cup when I was trying not to fidget.

I caught him glancing at me and I smiled back at him.

It was nothing. Just a look. Just a smile.

But it felt like something.

Eventually, an engineer came by, calling Max over to a meeting. He clapped Carlos on the back, then turned to me.

“Hopefully I’ll see you around this weekend.”

I nodded, still pretending like I wasn’t melting. “Yeah. Maybe.”

And as he walked away, Carlos nudged me with his elbow. “What was that face?”

I blinked. “What face?”

He grinned. “You like him.”

I rolled my eyes, but the blush on my cheeks gave it away. “I just met him and he probably has a girlfriend.”

“You don’t know that.” Carlos said, already enjoying this too much. “And you’re blushing. This is going to be fun.”

I swatted him playfully, but as I turned to walk with him back into the motorhome, I stole one more glance over my shoulder.

Max was already looking back.

—

present day - amelia

but as it turned out, max did have a girlfriend at the time and did it ever deter my crush on him? absolutely not. i spent hours and hours with him, pretending like i didn’t have feelings. he became a really good friend to me- even if i wanted him to be more than that. i knew he could never feel the same way.

however, we both grew rather quickly. he became a world champion- and my cooking career took off.

he hasn’t left my mind since he commented on my post. i don’t even know if he is with anyone right now. he probably is still with that same girl.

—

ameliasainz just posted!

barcelona 📍

liked by lilymhe, williamsracing, carlossainz55 & 4,363,627 others.

ameliasainz : grand return to the paddock and i brought food

lilymhe : alex stole the last of the pasta from me :(

liked by author

alexalbon : absolutely no shame - thank you amelia!

liked by author

lando : i forgot how beautiful you were in person

liked by author

carlossainz55 : Oi! No flirting with her, Cabrón.

lando : BOOOOOOOOO

oscarpiastri : So nice to meet you, Amelia. Thank you for making me something with fish to deter Lando from stealing it:) it was so delicious

liked by author

username4 : omg omg she brought food to mclaren so no more carcar beef??

williamsracing : So happy to have a Chef in the Paddock! Everything was so good!

liked by author

maxverstappen1 : the food was so good i wanna give the chef a kiss

this comment was deleted by user

maxverstappen1 : Food was delicious! Thanks, A.

liked by author

username5 : we saw that verstappen

liked by author

charles_leclerc : the food was definitely worth the wait…even if you refused to come in the Ferrari garage 🙄

liked by author

ameliasainz : fuckers did my brother dirty

liked by carlossainz55, lando and charles_leclerc

ameliasainz : i still love you and alex dearly tho

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and charles_leclerc

username5 : amelia standing on business about her brother

username7 : iktr girlfriend

formula1 : So happy to have Chef Sainz back!

liked by author

yukitsunoda22 : It was so good to meet you, Amelia! The food was excellent.

liked by author

ameliasainz : multiple little birdies told me that you love cooking - so let’s cook together sometime:)

liked by yukitsunoda22

maxverstappen1 : Yuki almost fainted when he found out he was going to meet Amelia 😁

liked by author

yukitsunoda22 : I will fully admit to fangirling slightly-

—

williamsracing made a post!

liked by username4, ameliasainz, alexalbon & 236,377 others.

williamsracing : sainz siblings cook off - link in bio:)))

username4 : THANK YOU ADMIN FOR SAINZ SIBLING CONTENT

liked by author

alexalbon : As soon as I made it into hospitality I could smell Amelia’s amazing food but then I was overwhelmed by the smell of Carlos’.

liked by author and ameliasainz

carlossainz55 : aye aye be nice - not all of us have 875 michelin stars

ameliasainz : that was heavily exaggerated- I do not think it’s possible to obtain that many

ameliasainz : but I’m glad you liked mine alex! new recipe!

username7 : this is the funniest video I’ve ever seen

username10 : the way they argue kills me

—

ameliasainz made a post!

liked by iamrebeccad, lando, maxverstappen1 & 4,356,367 others.

ameliasainz : life dumpppp

username8 : i feel like amelia was the first one on the carlando train

ameliasainz : def was

iamrebeccad : had the best birthday bc of you my love

liked by author

ameliasainz : wuv uuu

username4 : oop she is dropping soft launch crumbs - who is it ?

username5 : do we think it is someone on the grid?

carlossainz55 : What is a “soft launch crumb”?

ameliasainz : nothing old man mind your own business

carlossainz55 : does this happen to do with the man in these pictures?

ameliasainz : shhh shhhh

maxverstappen1 : pretty flowers for a pretty girl

liked by author

username7 : OH - Oh - OHHH

username10 : HUHHH?

lilymhe : still don’t know where alex albon is

liked by author

ameliasainz : or who he is

liked by lilymhe

—

maxverstappen1 made a post!

liked by ameliasainz, lando, redbullracing and 2,478,468 others.

maxverstappen1 : Little break from the chaos after a big win.

username9: there is a girl omgomgomg

username2 : def amelia

username3 : someone on twitter said they saw him with another girl that wasn’t amelia a few days ago so idk

username : she liked the post so idk

username8 : she likes all of his posts

redbullracing : Enjoy your time away, Max!

liked by author

lando : who is it? do I know her? 😏

maxverstappen1 : yup

ameliasainz : having someone else cook for you? im hurt verstappen 😭

liked by author

maxverstappen1 : you will always be my favorite

username6 : if I was this girl and saw this interaction OUCH

—

F1gossipgirls posted!

237,368 likes.

f1gossipgirls : many pictures of max Verstappen and amelia sainz have been circulating on twitter recently.

comments disabled.

—

ameliasainz made a post!

liked by maxverstappen1, reyesvdec, lilymhe and 5,368,367 others.

ameliasainz : since max can’t keep his lips to himself…HARD LAUNCH!

maxverstappen1 : sorry you’re so beautiful that I can’t stop myself

liked by author

maxverstappen1 : i have loved you since the first time i laid eyes on you, schat.

liked by author

ameliasainz: my angel <3

carlossainz55 : Happy for you, Hermana. Take care of her, Max.

liked by author and maxverstappen1

lando : oh so max gets to date her but every time I’ve tried it’s a no?

lando : happy for you guys (max don’t kill me)

liked by author

carlossainz55 : yes- exactly that.

ameliasainz : maybe if you were a 4 time wdc (not even then)

liked by maxverstappen1

alexalbon : does this mean you will be cooking for the rb garage more than us? :(

ameliasainz : absolutely not - im splitting custody.

reyesvdec : Estoy muy feliz por ti, mija.

liked by author

olliebearman : do us grid kids finally have a mom??

liked by author

kimi.antonelli : AND SHE MAKES PASTA THE RIGHT WAY

liked by author

isackhadjar : special grid kid dinner? 🥹

liked by author

jackdoohan : plz im starving I haven’t eaten all day

liked by author

ameliasainz : yes ofc my children - max and i will have you over for dinner tonight

maxverstappen1 : i did not agree to this

olliebearman : YAYYYYYYYY

charles_leclerc : im coming too

alexalbon : Lily and i are on the way

pierregasly : save room at the table for keeks and i

carlosainz55 : being big brother means i am always invited !

—

hope you enjoyed it! let me know if you want any changes.

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

MASTERLIST ..⋆. 𐙚 ̊

જ⁀➴ welcome to Red's masterlist ୧⍤⃝💐 !!

PULL ME IN

summary: due to Bruce distancing himself from reading and seeing other women - batfam has to watch their mom willow away.

CH 1

DIE YOUNG

summary : batfam enjoy each other's presence while Alfred and Bruce silently mourns your death.

CH 1

CH 2

alternative universe- reader is older and actually gets to meet her siblings yet still meets her own demise .

Lone Warrior

summary : reader is put into emergency foster care after a tragedy , despite living with the Wayne family for a bit , reader takes it upon herself to move away and start anew since she clearly wasn't welcomed , after many years have passed Damian finally joins the family and after a particular spat w his father he finds himself in reader's room and an interest in them has sparked.

CH 1

CH 2

CH 3

HELP YOURSELF

summary : in a family filled with intriguing members of their own right , duke has a particular interest in a certain vigilante in the family that everyone seems to overlook . this interest leads to the family to spiral into obsession .

CH 1 - 3

Neglected Reader x Yandere Platonic Batfam

CH 1

CH 2

CH 3

CH 4

Damian Wayne x Tokyo Ghoul Reader

summary :Damien Wayne is a complex character on his own , he has his own complex emotions and feelings that not many people can understand, que in a ghoul like sibling whom can comfort Damien in his hard times by reminiscing their own experience with them.

CH 1

CH 2

CH 3

DRABBLES

I 'hate' Cats - jason fic

New Beginings - jason fic

hc for reader being the favorite in batfam - hc 1 , hc 2

saiki reader x batfam shenigans

SALVATORE - tim drake blurb

I HATE SPIDER LILLES - a lonesome child dies while a neglectful father loses himself to guilt and grief. ( batfam x neglected reader )

Fallen Star - jason mourns his dead wife .

Am I Enough ? - Alfred unexplainably dislikes a certain Wayne member and is hellbent on making her life as miserable as it can get .

TO LOVE YOU IS KILLING ME - the only person bucky has ever felt seen , loved and cared by is slowing dying and he can only helplessly stand there and watch them go .

TIMELESS - spinoff on (neglected reader x batfam ) where us the reader loves neglected character while batfam seethes in jealousy

A VILE THING YOU ARE - au in which neglected reader understands why her family dislikes her ( tw. Dark themes such as body security is mentioned)

THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU GOT A GIRL - drabble abt the bat boys not believing Tim for having a girlfriend

DECOMPOSING BODY - batfam looses their mom and wife due to her drowning in her own insecurities and the public only fuels it

REQUESTS

strangers - reader comes from a post - apolyptic world where mankind was wiped out due to nuclear warfare and deadly disease . suddenly she is awaken in a world where humanity is thriving yet this weird family behaves so strangely toward her??

Bimbo reader x yan jason - yan Jason is obsessed with bimbo reader

Girl dad Joker and mom Harley- despite being mentally ill and fucked up they'd make good parents .

OH FATHER DEAREST SAVE ME - au in which Joker & Harleys daughter became Robin for unforseen reasons, and due to a mishap, they end up killing her.

ty to everyone who supports my work , i really appreciate everyone and i can't thank you all enough !!

if a link is not working pls comment which one and i'll fix it and i apologize for the future trouble !!

[mafiadad5]

Perv!bestfriend!Jisung who..pt.2

Perv!bestfriend! jisung x fem!reader (part 1)

mdni!!! 18+

warnings- (neck) kissing, alcohol consumption, dry humping, choking kinda?, he’s kinda manipulative lol, they’re both kinda pervy.

W/c- 3.1k

a/n- ty for all the support on the last post! I hope you enjoy

Tags- @joonsprettygf @machilattee @nosungluv

Perv!bestfriend!Jisung who couldn't stop staring at you eating ice cream. The way your lips wrapped around the ice cream cone, how your tongue swirled around the tip, chasing the dripping mess before it could reach your hand, it had him gripping the edge of the park bench to keep himself grounded. Each flick of your tongue sent a jolt of heat straight through him to his dick. He swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away. He couldn't help but get riled up, look at you.

"You're... really good at that." He blurted out before his brain could process what he had said.

Your head turned toward him, eyes wide in surprise. "Good at what?" You asked, blinking at him innocently.

"Oh, um... nothing. Never mind." He stammered, his ears burning as he quickly looked away, pretending to find something, anything else interesting.

You shrugged, brushing it off with a small smile.

Jisung couldn't just let it go though. He tried he really did, but every time you leaned forward to lick at the sides of the cone, his gaze was drawn back to you. The movements of your lips, the slight shimmer of the ice cream glossing your lips, it was driving him insane.

When you suddenly turned to him again, his heart nearly stopped. 

"What Jisung?" You asked, a giggle escaping your lips, his heart nearly stopping as you turned to him.

A drop of melting ice cream slid down the cone Jisung's eyes staring right at it as it dripped onto your finger.

"You might wanna get that." He said, his voice lower than he intended, gesturing to the mess on your hand.

"Oh!" You said, licking the trail of ice cream off your finger, staring directly into his eyes.

His gaze locked on you, the way your tongue stuck out to clean the sticky mess, the casual way you sucked the tip of your finger clean... It was torture.

Jisung's throat felt dry as he forced himself to look away, but the image of you was burned into his mind. He clenched his fists, trying to keep himself composed. God he wished it was him instead of the ice cream. He needed to feel your tongue so bad, your lips, your everything. To let you ruin him completely, then make him beg for more.

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Perv!bestfriend!Jisung who suggested that you both play a game while you were both in a store.

"The Chapstick Challenge... what's that?" You asked, your brows furrowing as you looked at Jisung's mischievous grin.

"It's simple. You put on different chapstick flavors, and guess what flavor it is." He explained, holding up a pack of brightly colored chapsticks from the shelf.

"That actually sounds like... fun." You hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously.

"So are you in?" He asked, grabbing a few packs and pretending to examine them closely. The way his lips twitched into a smirk made you feel as if he'd been planning this.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." You answered, rolling your eyes.

Later the two of you sat on the couch, the pile of chapsticks in between you. Jisung ripped open a package, his fingers quickly removing the cap.

"So um... what are the rules again?" You asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

"You put on the chapstick, kiss the other person, and they have to guess the flavor.. easy." He said, leaning back casually

"Kiss?" Your head snapped toward him, brow raised in disbelief. "You didn't mention that part earlier, Jisung."

"Must've slipped my mind." He said with an innocent shrug. "Anyways, I already bought everything. It'd be a waste not to play."

"Jisung, this sounds..."

"Shh." He interrupted, pressing a finger to his lips. "It's just a few kisses. Let's play."

"Fine." You sighed, giving in. "You go first."

Jisung grinned, opening the first chapstick and slathering on a thick layer. He leaned in, his eyes locked onto yours as you moved closer.

You started with a hesitant peck, your lips grazing his as you tried to catch the flavor.

"Wait." You murmured, leaning in again for a longer kiss. His lips were soft and warm.

"Cherry." You guessed, pulling back.

"Yep." He replied, his voice a little lower than usual. "Your turn."

You grabbed a chapstick, twisting it open as Jisung watched intently. His gaze was locked on your lips as you rubbed the flavor on, his eyes darkening slightly.

"Come on." You said, motioning him closer.

He leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was anything but soft. It was slow, his lips moving against yours roughly, tasting every part of the flavor. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he dragged his tongue along your bottom lip.

When he finally pulled away his lips glistened, and he smacked them. 

"Strawberry?"

"Yep." You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"This is too easy." He said smirking.

"Yeah, it is." You replied.

"I have an idea to make it harder." He suggested, leaning forward with that familiar mischievous glint in his eye.

"And how's that Ji?" You asked, suspicious of what he was up to.

"Pick a chapstick, and I'll guess, but this time not on your lips." He said, his grin growing wider.

You arched a brow but complied, handing him a random one from the pile. He opened it, twisting the stick until the product showed. "Hold still." He murmured.

His fingers tilted your chin, and he smeared the chapstick along the curve of your neck, his touch lingering longer than necessary. Your heart raced as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your skin.

The first kiss was soft, testing, but he quickly grew bolder, his tongue darting out to taste the flavor. He sucked lightly, leaving your skin tingling, and when he finally pulled back, his breath was shaky.

"Grape." He said, licking his lips slowly.

You nodded, still caught a little of guard.

"Your turn, but I don't think you can top that." He said, leaning back with a smug look.

"Challenge accepted." You shot back, determined to win.

He handed you a chapstick and you uncapped it, smirking. "Be fair." he warned, his voice teasing. "I did a thin layer."

"Ok." You said, leaning closer. You rubbed the chapstick across his neck, your fingers brushing against his skin. 

You leaned in, starting with a gentle kiss. His skin was warm, and the faint scent of his cologne lingered around you. You licked softly at first trying to pick up the flavor, but you couldn't help yourself—you went harder, pressing your lips firmly to his skin as you sucked.

A quiet sound escaped him, a low hum.

"Hmm." You murmured against his neck, the vibrations causing a sharp inhale from him. "This is hard." You whispered, your breath on his neck making him shiver. You went back in, tongue dragging over his skin, trying to pick up any flavor.

"Don't stop." He moaned out softly. 

You froze, pulling back to look at him. "What?"

"Uh...I said hurry up." He stuttered, his cheeks flushed. "You're taking forever."

"Right..." You said, narrowing your eyes at him but deciding not to press further. You went back in, kissing and tasting until you were certain of the flavor.

"Mango." You said confidently, pulling back.

"Y-yeah." He breathed, his voice shaky. "You're good. Really, really good."

You couldn't miss the way he shifted awkwardly, his hands moving to adjust his sweatpants.

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Perv!bestfriend!Jisung who agreed to meet you at a bar for country night because you didn't want to go alone. You were really only there for the bull riding, so it wouldn't be that bad, he told himself.

When he arrived you were already a little tipsy, which always made you... touchier. That was never good for him because, tipsy or not, he wasn't as good at holding himself together when you got all touchy.

"Ji!" you called out, beaming when you saw him. Before he could respond, you stumbled up to him, throwing your arms around his neck. "Oh, you look sexy Ji. I like the whole cowboy look."

Jisung tried to laugh it off, but pretty much failed. He had thrown on a flannel and a hat as a joke, but the way you looked at him made it feel anything but funny. "Uh.. thanks." He muttered, sucking his teeth.

"You know what they say... Save a horse, ride a cowboy." You smiled, pressing a little closer to him, your hands sliding down his chest, fingers grazing his torso.

Jisung felt his breath hitch as you stared up at him, your teasing smile making heat creep up his neck. He let out a low chuckle, trying not to choke on his own thoughts. "Mm?" He hummed, tilting his head, almost like he didn't know exactly what you were hinting at.

You giggled and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the bar. "Come on. I'm ready to bull ride now."

You were finally where you wanted to be, riding on the bull. Having the time of your life, and when the ride started, he couldn't look away.

Your body swayed, hips rolling and legs squeezing the bull as you threw your free hand in the air. You tossed your head back, eyes closing as you smiled.

The crowd cheered around you, but Jisung could only hear his own heartbeat, bitting his lip as his grin slowly turning into a smirk. He watched the way your body moved, the way your thighs flexed and your waist shifted. You looked so beautiful right now, imagine how you would look on top of him, his hands gripping your waist, guiding you as your body rocked in sync with his. 

Fuck, it was happening again, getting turned on by you in public. He's not a creep right? God, he was a mess—you made him a mess.

"So? How'd I do?" Your voice broke through his thoughts. 

Jisung blinked, forcing himself back to the present as you stood in front of him. "Oh! You did great." He said quickly, clearing his throat. "Who knew you were so good at bull riding?"

You laughed. "I'm a pro rider Ji." You joked, licking your lips slowly as your hand came up to rub his shoulder.

His body tensed under your touch. You had no idea what you were doing to him, did you? Or maybe you did, and you were just waiting for him to snap.

"Yeah..." He said, his voice quieter now. His gaze flickered down to your lips, lingering for just a second too long before he looked away. "I can tell."

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Perv!bestfriend!Jisung who had suggested staying in instead of going out, claiming it would be more fun to drink at home where you could "really let loose." You'd agreed of course.

You both were several drinks in, the air between you loose, the kind of looseness that only came with alcohol and the comfort of being around someone you trusted. The TV on in the background, but neither of you were paying much attention.

"Fuck, it's hot." Jisung muttered, fanning himself dramatically before tugging his shirt over his head. His toned chest and stomach were suddenly on full display, his sweats hanging just low enough to show his V-line that disappeared beneath the waistband.

You froze for a moment, your eyes lingering on him longer than they should have. You quickly looked away, but it was too late—he'd noticed.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." He said, his voice low and teasing as he turned to you, his lips curling into a cheeky smile. His eyes slightly shut from the alcohol, holding a glimmer of mischief.

"Be quiet." You shot back laughing.

"Make me." He countered, leaning closer, his smirk growing wider.

You shook your head, laughing softly as you looked back at the TV unbothered, but you could feel his gaze still on you, burning into your skin.

"You know," he started, his voice dropping a notch, "you can touch me if you want. I know you like to be held when you're drunk."

Your head snapped toward him, your brows furrowing. "I'm fine. Seems like you want to be touched though, huh?" You teased.

His grin widened. "You wouldn't." He said, his tone daring as he leaned back against the couch, completely unbothered, but he knew exactly what he was doing.

"I wouldn't?" You responded.

"Nope. You don't have the guts." He said, that same innocent smirk on his face.

"Bet?" You challenged, leaning closer, your eyes locking with his.

He shrugged, but his eyes never left yours. "Bet."

Without breaking eye contact, you reached out and placed your hand on his bare chest. His skin was warm beneath your palm, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

"That's nothing." He said with a soft laugh, his voice was slightly strained.

"Oh really?" You said, raising a brow as your hand slid up, brushing over his collarbone before settling on the side of his neck.

"What about this?" You asked, your fingers lightly tracing his skin.

"Better..." He admitted, his voice dipping lower. Then he smirked, leaning closer until his lips were just a breath away from your ear. "But what about here?"

You pulled back slightly to see where he was gesturing, his hand rested boldly on his lap, right over the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.

"Ew Ji! You're such a creep." You laughed, hitting him lightly on the cheek.

"Hey, I was just challenging you." He said, grinning as if he hadn't just crossed a line. "And guess what? I told you you wouldn't do it, and you didn't."

"I would." You shot back, determined not to let him win.

"Oh yeah?" He said, raising a brow. "Prove it."

Your eyes narrowed at his challenge. Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand on top of his, which still rested on his lap.

"Your hand's in the way though." You smiled. 

"Oops." He said with a smug grin, sliding his hand out from under yours, leaving your palm flush against the heat of his lap.

You froze for a second, your fingers twitching as the situation fully registered.

"Ewww." You laughed, quickly pulling your hand away. "I still did it, though!"

"Yeah sure." He said, smirking as he adjusted his position. "Barely counts."

"It counts." You said.

"Then do it again." He challenged.

You stared at him for a second before smiling. "But I'm tired." You said, lying down, your head resting on his lap. 

"Scaredy cat." He whispered, his hand resting on your head. 

You fake snored, closing your eyes, leaving Jisung there with a painful hard on—and there was nothing he could do about it.  ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Perv!bestfriend!Jisung who suggested you sit on his lap for the road trip because the luggage took up one of the seats, you didn't think twice about it. Out of everyone in the car, you felt the most comfortable with him.

"All comfy? We're gonna be here for a while," Jisung asked as you adjusted yourself in his lap, settling in.

"Yeah, I'm good." You replied, leaning back slightly as the driver started the car.

The first hour passed without issue. You both alternated between scrolling on your phones and chatting. Every now and then, you'd shift to get more comfortable, and he'd tease you lightly.

"Quit squirming, you're making it worse." You didn't think much of it, but then the road got bumpier, and something started to feel... off.

It began with his breathing, heavier than normal. You ignored it at first, figuring he was just tired or zoning out, but soon he started shifting underneath you, subtly at first, then more noticeably.

"Ji... you okay?" You asked, turning your head slightly to speak over the loud music.

"Yeah, all good." He replied quickly, but his voice was strained, almost shaky.

"You sure?" You pressed, raising an eyebrow as you glanced back at him.

"Fuck-" He muttered under his breath, his head tipping back against the headrest. "Yes, just... just stay still, okay?"

Now you were suspicious. His flushed cheeks and the way his hands were gripping you told a different story.

Before you could say anything else, the car hit another bump in the road. You felt him stiffen beneath you, a low, breathy moan escaping his lips, just loud enough for you to hear. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly in place.

"Ji... are you-"

Another bump cut you off, and this time, he couldn't hold back a whimper. His hands tightened on your hips, pressing you down against him as he let out a shaky exhale near your ear.

"Fuck, oh my god." He murmured, almost to himself. You felt him subtly grind his hips upward, using the motion of the car as an excuse to move against you.

"Ji stop, what are you doing?" You said, your face heating up as you realized exactly what was happening.

"I... I can't." He stuttered, his voice breathy and desperate. "Just... stay still. Please."

But he didn't stay still. As the car bounced over the uneven road, he began moving you deliberately, gripping your waist and subtly guiding you to grind against him. Each bump only making it worse.

"Fuck." He whimpered, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he buried his face against your back. "I'm almost there."

Your heart raced as you froze, his breathing growing heavier, his hips pressing up harder into you as he let out another moan.

"Jisung seriously..."

"Shit, I'm coming." He groaned softly, his grip tightening as his body shuddered beneath you.

You felt him jerk slightly, and then... warmth. Your eyes widened as you realized what had just happened.

"Sorry." He whispered, his face buried against you in shame. Before you could say anything, he shouted to the driver.

 "I really need a bathroom break!"

The car pulled into a gas station, and Jisung bolted out, awkwardly covering himself as he rushed inside. You sat there, frozen in disbelief, your mind racing.

As you waited, you overheard the driver talking to someone in the back.

"Looks like we mispacked...somehow. There's enough room for all the luggage now. Y/n can have a seat to herself."

You blinked in confusion. How could they have mispacked after the trip started?

When Jisung finally returned, his face was a mix of embarrassment and forced nonchalance. He avoided your gaze as he climbed back into the car, muttering an apology under his breath.

"So uh..." He started, scratching the back of his neck. 

"Guess you don't have to sit on my lap anymore."

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[astonmartinii]

HI! Hope you are well! I have no clue if you are taking requests or not, but if you are, could you maybe do a smau with carlos sainz x ferrari!reader? Where the reader is part of the ferrari family, and when her father passes away, she will take on the company? And like, all of the tifosi love her loads, bcs she's just lovely to them all no matter what, and they see carlos slowly 'fall in love' with her then soft launch their relationship, and it turns out they had been dating for ages? If you can, ty!!

are you going to be my girl? | carlos sainz social media au

pairing: carlos sainz x fem ferrari!reader

it's not a HR violation if you were dating before she became your boss and it's not nepotism if it's her company.

yournameferrari

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 872,309 others

yournameferrari: first race weekend, let's go girls 🏁

view all comments

user1: i am SCARED i am weirdly optimistic 🤔

user2: i have faith, the article about her and the whole new team... she's cooking

carlossainz55: excited to take her out for a spin

yournameferrari: lets keep all the spinning for the doughnuts at the end of the season please

carlossainz55: i'll try my best, no promises though

yournameferrari: okay stop commenting on my post and get ready to drive, you're wearing my name

carlossainz55: let me know when you want to wear mine

user3: yall it's not even been one race and carlos is flirting with his boss, they weren't lying f1 drivers really are fearless

sebastianvettel: feels like just the other day when you first visted the garage, you'll smash it!

yournameferrari: thanks seb! can't wait to see you again, give hanna and the kids my love

user4: i love that she's 23 but literally talks like a grandma

user5: the stress of ferrari does tend to age a person

charles_leclerc: forza ferrari ❤️ we'll make you proud

yournameferrari: i have all the faith in the world in you boys

user6: a ferarri owner who actually publicly supports the drivers? i've prayed for times like this

user7: ahhh i met her this weekend and she really loves the tifosi like she spent so long with us and signed as much as she could

carlossainz55

liked by yournameferrari, landonorris and 893,209 others

carlossainz55: great weekend all round, happy to be back on the podium - thank you to y/n and all the team for building us a car we can win in !!

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user9: don't shoot me but did we all see the way carlos was looking at y/n on the podium

user10: bestie i hate to tell you but there was like 100 ferrari workers at that podium he could've been looking at literally any of them

yournameferrari: you boys made the ferrari name proud this weekend ❤️

carlossainz55: couldn't have done it without you and the team

yournameferrari: you're too kind, take pride in your own achievements

carlossainz55: only if you celebrate with me

user11: are we witnessing the smooth operator in real time?

user12: it's like seeing a unicorn in the woods

landonorris: congrats chilli 🌶️ are we all celebrating or is it just you two?

carlossainz55: all of us? why wouldn't it be everyone?

landonorris: no reason ....

user13: maybe it's because carlos' eyes pop out of his head like a looney tunes whenever he's around y/n ferrari

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc

carlossainz55: you realise i get the notifications when you guys like comments, right?

landonorris: well my PR team wouldn't like it if i commented it myself

carlossainz55: i wonder if there is a reason for that 🤔

user14: carlando domestics in the comment section we are so back

scuderiaferrari

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 803,451 others

tagged: yournameferrari

scuderiaferrari: no race this weekend? we'll give you a #️⃣ asky/n to give you your ferrari content this weekend!

view all comments

user15: what is your favourite race?

yournameferrari: besides the obvious choices of imola and monza, i really enjoy suzuka and spa !

user16: who is a driver you would've loved to have managed?

yournameferrari: the obvious answer is michael schumacher, but i also would've loved to work with seb and kimi and jean alesi!

user17: how do you feel about taking over ferrari so young?

yournameferrari: it's definitely daunting, especially when no one really knew i existed. i was scared when it came to the staff overhaul as they had been there for so long and i was scared that it would massively backfire, but so far so good.

user18: tbf it's been a long time coming

user19: what would you do if you weren't owning ferrari?

yournameferrari: to be honest, ferrari and motorsport is all i have ever known, but, i also enjoy most other sports like football, ice skating and golf. but outside of sport i would've loved to pursue writing, i love poetry and essays!

user20: GOLF? cue carlos sainz in 3...2...1

carlossainz55: let's go for a round after my next sim session ⛳️

yournameferrari: only if you're ready to lose

user21: i am having ... feelings about this pairing

user22: how do you feel about charles' music?

yournameferrari: i always think it is good to have another passion, especially with how all-consuming formula one can become. i personally love charles' music and will often put it on when i do yoga or read (though my favourite is AUS23)

charles_leclerc: thank you y/n !!!

user23: is this *rubs eyes* an owner with a good relationship with the drivers???

f1gossipgirl

liked by user28, user29 and 4,130 others

tagged: yournameferrari, pierregasly

f1gossipgirl: AWKWARD MOMENT ALERT 🚨 y/n ferrari had harsh word for pierre gasly when they crossed paths in the paddock. gasly, whose dangerous driving put carlos sainz in the medical centre, seemed shocked that ferrari would have a problem with him. sources in the paddock said that ferrari admonished the frenchman, "you have a lot of gall in the media gasly, everyone saw how dangerous that was, you can't blame your own shortcomings on alpha tauri or adrian newey now. keep your car away from my drivers or we'll have a real problem." oop. allegedly gasly only replied with a wink and a "anything for you sweetheart" which caused y/n to storm off and knock his shoulder on the way past. who is in the right?

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user30: THAT'S MY OWNER RIGHT THERE

user31: y/n owned gasly

user32: not only was he dangerous on track he's also super disrespectful off, y/n is expressing her concerns over her driver who could've been seriously injured and he just flirts with her ???

user33: pierre is super in the wrong here but also it's so refreshing to see someone in management actually have the drivers back

user34: gone were the days of begging ferrari to even appeal penalties

user35: my friend was in the paddock and apparently vasseur had to hold sainz back after he was told about what pierre had done

user36: the way he's more mad that pierre disrespected y/n than nearly killing him

user37: idk why she's getting involved, no need to talk to the drivers like that, you're the owner, know your place

liked by pierregasly

user38: something insidious about the man liking a comment telling a woman to know her place 🤨

user39: he acts the victim in every situation and yet HE is the common denominator

user40: after ^^^ this whole mess i need carlos to scrap pierre

user41: i feel like he actually would that man is in love with y/n lol

yournameferrari

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 903,451 others

yournameferrari: happy summer break everyone !! going into the break leading the constructor's championship lead is amazing but we aim to finish the season with both trophies back in maranello. see you in zandvoort x

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user42: A MAN?

user43: i was delusional to think that a young successful and smart woman wasn't cuffed :(

sebastianvettel: are you still planning to swing by switzerland?

yournameferrari: we'll be there!

this comment was deleted

yournameferrari: i'll be there!

user44: girl we saw that

user45: the way she posts her soft launch but deletes a comment that says she might bring him to visit seb?

user46: visiting seb is a big deal tbf

user47: the way carlos HAS to have her notifications on mans was here after 30 seconds

user48: has better reaction time for y/n's instagram post than a race start 😭

carlossainz55: working on my swing, ready for our round of golf

yournameferrari: get ready to be humbled

carlossainz55: if you're as pro as you say i may have to upgrade us to crazy golf

yournameferrari: as long as i get the red ball

carlossainz55: deal

user49: are we FLIRTING 👀 ???????

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, yournameferrari and 703,458 others

tagged: yournameferrari

carlossainz55: took a break from swimming to get my ass whooped by my boss on the golf course

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user50: oh the fit - Y/N CAME TO PLAY

landonorris: just how bad was the whopping? before i propose a paddock golf tournament

carlossainz55: she'll ruin the sport for you it's not fair

landonorris: you didn't put up any sort of fight?

carlossainz55: i TRIED but as soon as i saw the custom clubs i knew it was over

yournameferrari: i have a confession, i was literally on my college golf team, i had a lot of practice sorry x

carlossainz55: so you're basically a professional? that's comforting

yournameferrari: not really a professional but a very dedicated amateur

user51: babe you literally won the national championship at stanford stop playing with this man

yournameferrari: oops? 😬

user52: right, i don't mean to sound crazy, but i have a theory. the third pic looks very familiar to me, is it a lake in switzerland? the switzerland one SEBASTIAN VETTEL lives in and that y/n ferrari said she was going to visit this summer with someone?

user53: i fear you've made a point

user54: as much as they'd be literally the hottest couple in the world ... is it not a bit weird for carlos to date his boss? like... also what does this mean for potential favouritism?

user55: i get those concerns but we've already seen this season that decisions have been made both ways. unlike the binotto era ferrari actually are making the two first drivers thing work

user56: based on what y/n has said in the past i don't think she'd favour carlos because of a relationship, i think she's too ruthless to potentially sacrifice points to benefit her potential boyfriend

f1

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 1,239,861 others

tagged: carlossainz55

f1: the smooth operator is back to winning ways with his win under the singapore lights. it was a double podium for ferrari and a DNF for sergio perez means that ferrari are constructors champions once again!

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user60: Y/N FERRARI THE WOMAN YOU ARE AND HOLY SHIT HER AND CARLOS KISSING DID SOMETHING TO ME

user61: we really went from xavi and not having any tyres to proper professionals and the WCC trust the WDC will be coming back home soon

carlossainz55: tifosi, we'll get the big one next year ❤️

user62: CONSTRUCTOR CHAMPIONS AND YOU BAGGED Y/N FERRARI U WON AT LIFE

landonorris: so you made me find out with everyone else? i see how it is

carlossainz55: sorry landito, didn't intend for anyone to find out just yet but i guess i got a little carried away..

yournameferrari: a little?

carlossainz55: sorry but i've been good all year and finally got the win and the championship i couldn't help myself (you also looked so good sorry)

yournameferrari: i guess i can give you that (you're also very sexy post-race)

charles_leclerc: well i for one am super happy that i never opened the door when i heard a suspicious sound coming from y/n's office

yournameferrari: omg delete please i stubbed my toe i swear !!!!

charles_leclerc: no one is believing that i'm sorry

carlossainz55: we've never done anything untoward on ferrari property

landonorris: untoward? who are you?

carlossainz55: my gf is super duper college educated and it's rubbing off on me

landonorris: AHAHAHA RUBBING OFF

yournameferrari: 🤨

landonorris: sorry.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, yournameferrari and 1,034,510 others

tagged: yournameferrari

carlossainz55: suprise ! i guess it wasn't to be just ours forever, but i love you y/n and will give everything to you and your name x

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user62: boyfriend in the first slide and girlfriend in the others he's so real

yournameferrari: i know this secret was hard for you to keep so i'm proud of you regardless, i love you 🫶

carlossainz55: honestly any time anyone in the paddock flirted with you i thought i would explode

yournameferrari: i've seen your dm requests, spare me

carlossainz55: but now they know, i can unleash all of my pictures of you and i can flex on everyone

user63: dream threesome list just got a new update

landonorris: first slide for me i know that's right

carlossainz55: i am forgiven for not telling you about my relationship? the two years were tough

landonorris: TWO YEARS?

carlossainz55: your tone sounds kinda off

landonorris: you can shove your first slide up your ass 👍 TWO YEARS?????

carlossainz55: tbf i couldn't really announce to the world that i was dating the woman who would someday become the owner of my team

landonorris: give me three business days and i'll be okay

scuderiaferrari: parents ❤️

charles_leclerc: happy for you guys but never ask me to take pictures of you again x

yournameferrari: you did such a good job though!

charles_leclerc: unless i see a photographer bonus in my contract i will not be third wheeling for free

yournameferrari: noted (you're not getting the bonus)

charles_leclerc: it was worth the try

yournameferrari

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yournameferrari: what a crazy first season. i am unbelievably proud of the boys and the team, we'll bring both championships back to maranello next season ❤️

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user64: she is everything i want to be

user65: tbf after last season i never thought we would win a race this season and her overhaul and ruthlessness has actually changed the game. also her and carlos are super cute

carlossainz55: i love you and thank you for our season. here's to the best winter break with you

yournameferrari: finally you can spend christmas the ferrari way

user66: how do we also get an invite to this christmas.. do you have any brothers? cousins? uncles?

carlossainz55: you're so so so beautiful, pretty, bewitching, ravishing, stunning and irresistible

yournameferrari: i love you too handsome

carlossainz55: can you also humble my dad at golf please and thank you

yournameferrari: we'll go doubles for the sainz golf tournament and have NO MERCY

user67: someone tell y/n the season is over and that she doesn't need to ruin sainz snr's christmas on the golf course

yournameferrari: the ferrari name never rests sorry not sorry

user68: yeah yeah the constructor championship finally came back to ferrari but this relationship is the real win from this season

user69: carlos finally found someone as old money as him

user70: and is actually old money, babes has that ferrari money

carlossainz55: i can retire early and be the house husband

yournameferrari: you will not retire early i expect you to be kicking it in that car until you're at least alonso's age

carlossainz55: but after that i can be the house husband a HAB?

yournameferrari: to your hearts content :) no one prettier i'd want on my arm x

note: hope you enjoyed i was BATTLING the writers block on this one lol. but i hope this is what you were looking for

[kxsagi]

sae x reader except reader has to fight shidou for sae anytime he's around HAHA

“𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤”

a/n: sae’s a freak (he’s into me 😛)

isagi in the back of the header image always gets me 😭

you’re not a jealous person. seriously. you’re chill. calm. collected. some might even say mature. you don’t pick fights over petty things. you rise above. you're the bigger person… unless that thing is shidou ryusei breathing anywhere within a two-mile radius of your boyfriend. 

“back off, loverboy,” you say sweetly, shoving shidou’s face away from sae’s shoulder for the third time that morning. “he has a girlfriend. remember?” 

“hm?” shidou blinks at you with all fake innocence as if he’s not your 13th reason. “oh, you mean you? i thought you were his manager or something. you nag like one.” 

you blink. sae – ever the loyal, supportive boyfriend – does not even look up from tying his cleats. nothing. not a chuckle. not a word. unbothered. moisturized. thriving. your blood pressure, on the other hand, is at a dangerous 210/110. 

“don’t encourage him,” you mutter, elbowing sae, who merely grunts and continues adjusting his socks like this is all completely normal. which, sadly, it is. 

“aw, don’t be mad, princess,” shidou coos as he slinks onto the bench beside your boyfriend like a lizard. “i just love your man sooooo much. he’s so cold and mean. i wanna make him bark.” 

you blink again. your soul leaves your body. "you wanna what–" 

“shidou,” sae says flatly, still not looking up. “stop talking.” 

“what if i bark first?” shidou counters brightly, and then makes a genuinely horrific ruff sound with full eye contact. 

you inhale slowly. you’ve read about people who commit crimes of passion. you used to judge them. but now? now you understand. 

and then you launch yourself at him. 

“ALRIGHT, THAT’S IT, YOU PINK PEST.” 

shidou starts laughing – full, unhinged, head-thrown-back laughter – as you grab him by the collar. he doesn’t fight back. oh no. this menace is giddy. “c’mon, baby! fight for your man! show me the claws!” 

you would have clawed his eyes out if bachira hadn’t calmly wandered past, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you off the ground. 

“dude, chill,” he says, sipping his protein shake. “this is, like, the third time this week.” 

“and i’ll do it again!” 

“you did do it again,” reo calls from the bench, already livestreaming. “at this point you might as well schedule your brawls. mondays, wednesdays, and saturdays. make it a subscription model.” 

“i fear no man,” you growl, squirming in bachira’s grip, “but that… that peroxide peacock has it coming.” 

shidou, from the floor where you nearly tackled him, grins at the new name. “peroxide peacock. damn. kinda sexy.” 

fast forward to later that night, you’re lying on sae’s couch, your hand wrapped in an ice pack and your pride slightly bruised. 

“you didn’t even help me,” you grumble, shoving your cold toes under his thigh for warmth. “i was defending your honor.” 

“you punched your hand into his jaw. not my fault,” sae says without looking up from his phone. 

“he said he wanted you to bark, sae. bark. if i hadn’t stepped in, you’d be in a collar by now.” 

sae glances up just to raise a brow. “… you really think i’d let shidou put me in a collar?” 

you look him dead in the eye. “i don’t put anything past that man. he once posted a selfie captioned ‘just kissed my homie’s neck, we’re tight like that.’” 

“yeah, and?” 

“… it was you.” 

sae pauses. blinks. then shrugs. “i didn’t feel anything.” 

“i felt it. through the phone. spiritually.” 

he snorts. “you’re being dramatic.” 

“you’re being too calm for a man who’s one bark away from becoming someone’s puppy.” 

he tosses his phone on the coffee table and leans back. “you don’t have to fight him. he’s just being annoying.” 

“you say that like he doesn’t write fanfiction about you.” 

“… he does what?” 

“don’t worry about it,” you say quickly. “point is: i’m the only one who gets to annoy you, flirt with you, and make you bark. in the bedroom. respectfully.” 

sae’s lips twitch. “you’re deranged.” 

“yet you chose me.” 

“i regret it daily.” 

“tolerate me harder then.” 

he huffs out something dangerously close to a laugh, the tiniest little snort of amusement, and his hand slides around your wrist to pull you back into him. “you’re a menace,” he mutters against your forehead. 

“so is shidou.” 

“i like your menace better.” 

you grin. “say that again.” 

“no.” 

“write it down, maybe? put it in a frame?” 

“i’m literally never saying it again.” 

you hum, pleased, and settle against him like a cat claiming ownership. you think the chaos might be over for the night, that you can rest, recharge, maybe even makeout with him without shidou crawling out of the wall like a goblin. 

but then your phone pings. 

instagram live: @shidou_r — “Q&A: how i seduce taken men ft. live examples 😘” 

you stare at the screen. you blink once. twice. 

then you throw your phone on the table, sigh deeply, and stand up. 

sae doesn’t even try to stop you. 

he just watches as you stomp out of the room like a woman on a mission, cold pack still clutched in one hand and vengeance in your heart. 

“if you break your hand again,” he calls after you, “i’m not helping you wrap it.” 

you slam the door behind you. 

shidou’s livestream chat goes wild when you enter frame thirty seconds later and start chasing him across the field with a traffic cone. 

true love. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[judesmoonbeauty]

SurpriseBag 2025: Dress Up With the Cunning Mobster Doll Story- Jude Jazza's Story

Fan translation only. Accuracy not 100%. Please expect grammatical errors. Creative liberties are taken. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

Jude turned into stuffed doll.

This pleased me IMMENSELY because—

(This is my chance to get revenge...!)

While being bullied and teased, I received his love differently from others, but I’ve always wanted to get back at him somehow.

Jude: Gotta real sinister look on yer face, whadda ya up to?

Kate: Heeheehee……I just think you look adorable, Jude.

Jude: What’s with the shady laugh?

Kate: Don’t criticize the way people laugh.

His expression couldn’t change, but when I picked Jude up, I knew he was looking at me suspiciously.

Kate: Jude. When I was a kid, I loved tying ribbons to my stuffed toys.

He was lowered onto the edge of the desk, looked up at me and made a low voice.

Jude: Oy, wait.

I took a small box from the shelf and opened it.

The box contained colorful ribbons. I picked up a few and showed them to him with a bright smile.

Kate: Which do you like?

He made hoarse noise as he stood up and tried to step back.

Jude:…..Dont’cha dare.

But he stopped when he realized the position he was in.

I smiled even more when I saw Jude standing on the edge of the desk, where he would fall if he took just one step.

Kate: Maybe this deep purple ribbon? Ah, this one is nice too!

Jude: Yer the worst.

Kate: It's nothing compared to what you usually do to me.

Jude: Hmph, yer the one who enjoys bein’ bullied.

Kate: Well, let’s table that for now…..

Jude: Let’s not.

I clear my throat and pick up the deep purple ribbon.

Kate: It’s not a big deal, it’s just a little ribbon.

Jude: Ya can’t be serious— Oy!

Catching Jude as he tries to escape, I place the ribbon around the back of his head, bring up both ends at the top of his head and tie them off—

(Oh, soooo cute…!)

The Jude doll is now complete with a ribbon tied on him.

Jude: ……This's the worst.

He looked so cute just sitting there while looking the other way, that I had to use both hands to cover my grinning.

Jude: Satisfied now? Lemme down.

Kate: Oh, I want to tie this frilly ribbon around your neck too.

The moment I picked up the pretty, white frilly ribbon, Jude stood up and lost his balance.

Kate: Be careful!

I quickly picked him up so he wouldn’t get hurt, but he was flailing around in my lap.

Jude: Are ya kiddin’ me, why do I gotta wear some frilly arse ribbons?

Kate: Please don’t move so much, it’s dangerous.

Jude resisted with all his might, refusing to wear the frilly ribbon, so I held him down.

That’s when—

Kate: Waah!

Suddenly, smoke billows in front of me and my lap becomes heavy.

After blinking several times, my vision finally cleared and I met Jude's eyes.

Jude: Huh…..?

Kate: Y-you changed back already?

Jude open and closed his hand several times to confirm that he really changed back, and the sighed haggardly.

Jude: ‘Twas down right awful….Don’t ever wanna go through that again.

Jude: The hell’s with turnin’ into a stuffed toy. Betcha that quack doc mixed dodgy stuff into our food again.

Jude: Thanks to that, I went through a right mess. Should go ‘n give him a good kick fer it.

Jude got up from straddling my lap, and started grumbling about Roger again—

Kate: Ppfff-

Jude: Hm?

I couldn't help but laugh because on Jude’s head….

Kate: Jude, you're wearing a cute ribbon.……

The purple ribbon he was wearing as a stuffed toy was still tied on top of his head.

The long ribbon fits perfectly now that he’s back to its normal size, with a beautiful bow sitting on top his head.

Jude: …….

I clutch my stomach, unable to handle this unusual sight of Jude.

Without altering his expression, he untied the ribbon—

Jude: Princess, hold up yer hands.

Kate: ? Sure.

I did as I was told and stuck them out, and in a flash my hands were bound tightly together with the ribbon.

Kate: Ah.

Jude: Real good job ya did earlier.

Kate: Well, uhhh~…..

He looked down at me with a crooked smile, and when I averted my gaze, he instantly carried me away….

Kate: WOAH!!

Jude: I’ll turn ya into a dress-up doll too, but…..

I was surprised when he threw me on the bed, and he immediately hovered over me—

Jude: ‘Fore that, we gotta strip off all yer clothes, yeah?

It didn't end with just taking off my clothes, I was tormented more severely than usual.

And I decided that if he ever turned into a stuffed doll again, I would definitely dress him up in frilly clothes.

[Story Set Master List]

T/L note: I know, I could’ve used the word “plushie”, but that didn’t exist in their time period, so I didn’t. And I'm sorry for the bows, but I couldn't resist putting them on him either when they were missing from his sprite.

Tag List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @nawlink @justgiulia @vickietickie @greedyqueensfavourite @sharigax @belphiesleftpinkytoe @reimy1164 @barellorkilaam @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway

If you're +18 YO and wish to be added to my tag list, please feel free to comment below or DM me.

[bbyseok]

Nights Like This : Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Word count: 3k words

Content: Avenger!Bucky, gender neutral reader, petnames ‘sweetheart’ and ‘doll’ used, rivals to lovers, canon typical violence/injuries, some explicit language, romantic/sexual tension, suggestiveness

Synopsis: You’re a SHIELD agent with the night off… until a certain super soldier shows up at your door.

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything and this is my first time writing for Bucky, so please enjoy! <3 And ty to my pookie Moony for moral support :3

— — —

You’re off duty. It’s a quiet night, a rare moment of peace where New York or any other place on the planet isn’t facing some impending danger.

So here you are in your quaint Brooklyn flat, rather than your designated room in the Avengers Tower in order to maintain this temporary peace all to yourself. No ongoing missions, no super enhanced roommates, no interfering AI (though you know JARVIS means well).

Curled up on the sofa, there’s some mediocre action movie playing on the TV screen as you nurse a bowl of your chosen snack. The last few weeks have been rough—tactical work on the field always is.

Your body can feel the exertion taking a toll on your limbs now as you sink further into the couch cushions with a sigh. Honestly, you’re tempted to doze off right here and now when suddenly, something proves that your peace is indeed temporary.

A knock sounds at the door.

You stir, a frown on your lips as you glance at the source of the noise. You hadn’t been expecting anyone, certainly not at this hour. You mutter, “Who the hell…”

You set aside your bowl on the coffee tabble and reach for your handgun you had placed aside. (What? One can never be too careful in this sort of profession.)

Not bothering to turn the TV off, you creep towards the front door and peek through the eyehole for a person—only to be met with the sight of something even worse.

It’s Bucky.

James Buchanan Barnes, the formidable Winter Soldier turned redeemed Avenger, a force to be reckoned with in the throes of combat. Though, you know him as something else entirely.

A pain in the ass.

You don’t even remember how it started. Ever since you joined the team, he’s been on your nerves. From criticizing your performance during missions to making teasing comments when you’re minding your own business in the Tower.

(It doesn’t help that he looks damn good when doing it, but hey, no one heard that from you.)

With an exasperated sigh, you unlock the door and swing it open, fixing him with an unamused expression. “What the hell are you doing here, Bucky?”

He looks a little worse for wear. You remember that he had been assigned a long mission a while ago, which it seems like he had finally wrapped up considering the fact that he’s still clad in his gear. His metal arm is definitely dirty, but it still gleams somewhat due to the hallway light from above. His hair is messy and there’s a few cuts on his face.

(He still looks good. Unsurprisingly.)

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky simply greets, a ghost of a smirk curling on his lips as he leans on your doorframe. You’re tempted to shut the door right in his stupid handsome face... but then you notice he’s clutching his side with his flesh arm and— shit, he’s bleeding. “You gonna let me in or what?”

You blink hard in disbelief. Disbelief that one: he had come to you out of all people after getting injured apparently, and two: that he had gotten injured in the first place. Now you know he isn’t invincible, but it still takes you by surprise.

“There better be a good explanation for this,” you grumble under your breath, swinging the door open wider to make way for him.

Bucky eyes the gun still in your hand. “Hope you aren’t looking to put me out of my misery and using that on me,” he remarks dryly as he makes his way inside, still clutching the bloody side of his abdomen.

You roll your eyes and shut the door promptly, but not without casting a surveying glance outside just to ensure that he hadn’t been followed. You doubt it ‘cause it’s Bucky, but again, one can’t be too careful.

Bucky makes his way to your sofa, and you internally cringe knowing all the grime and dirt he’s going to leave on it.

He’s only been in your apartment once.

A few months ago, when he had insisted on walking you home himself after a night out with the rest of the team drinking. Vaguely, you remembered through your headache the following morning of him helping you into your apartment and tucking you into bed.

(He hadn’t brought it up afterwards, so you didn’t too.)

“Do not sit your filthy ass on my couch, Barnes,” you stop him before he can do such a thing, and he turns to offer you a glare. His icy gaze is enough for you to feel the chills, but you point to another door.

“Bathroom,” you inform, “I have first aid in there.”

With a grunt, the super soldier trudges over to the door. Before you follow him, you toss the handgun back on the coffee table. He’s taking in the appearance of your bathroom when you join him inside. He meets your eyes in the mirror, and you can tell he’s about to say something.

Before he can though, you forcefully make him sit down on to the toilet seat, to which he blinks up at you with that same icy stare.

“Care to tell me why you’re here?” you pry with a slight frown. You can feel his eyes lingering on you whilst you open a cabinet for the required items for first aid.

“The end of the mission just went differently than expected,” Bucky says curtly with a shrug. However, with the movement of his shoulders causes a strained hiss of pain emit from him.

You set aside some of the things—alcohol, wipes, some gauze—to meet his awaiting stare. “That’s not what I meant, Bucky,” you reply in a quiet tone, your brows coming to a furrow.

He blinks at you real slow.

“I meant.. why did you come here?” you ask more firmly, shaking your head, “I’m sure you can get patched up at the Tower. Or hell, maybe even a hospital nearby.”

Bucky is silent for a few heartbeats. “You were closer. Saved me the trouble,” he clarifies. He then adds, “Unless you want me to leave.”

For some reason, that last part irks you. You heave out a sigh. “No, you’re already here. As funny as it would be, I don’t think the team would appreciate you dying out on a street after I sent you away.”

His lips twitch into something of amusement. “Don’t know. I think Stark would find that pretty funny too.”

You almost laugh. You match his amused expression before tapping at his right arm that’s still applying pressure to whatever wound he has. “Lemme see.”

He gingerly moves his arm out of the way, but it’s hard to determine what the wound is with the gear still on. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to take this off, Barnes,” you comment, narrowing your eyes at the blood staining the material.

Bucky huffs but he begins tugging and removing the straps and buckles and whatnot. It’s a struggle considering the fact that he’s tired and injured—but touching him feels too awkward, too intimate.

Eventually, he removes the top part of his suit off with a grunt and— oh, he’s shirtless.

You try not to stare. Obviously it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless. After some missions, days in the training room, in your dreams… but he can’t ever know that.

“That bad?”

His voice abruptly stirs you out of your staring. You can see the injury now—it looks like a bullet grazed his side just barely. You hum in acknowledgment, “Unfortunately, you’ll live.”

A hoarse chuckle leaves Bucky then. “You don’t sound so thrilled now, doll.”

You grab the bottle of isopropyl alcohol and some of the gauze you had placed near the sink to dab at the wound. He grits his teeth at the sting, but other than that, he doesn’t move.

“Oh trust me, I am beyond elated,” you retort, voice dripping with sarcasm. You try to focus on completing first aid, rather than the fact that you’re touching him—his bare skin.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t say anything in return. But honestly, you wish he would because you can feel his eyes burning into you. It’s almost unnerving. He lets you finish in silence.

The quiet that fills the space of the bathroom is heavy but not uncomfortable. It’s just the sound of you cleaning and patching up his injury and his soft breathing.

When you’re finished, you sigh. Your eyes flicker upwards to his face, your lips flitting into a small frown to see his face still bruised and cut. Without another word, you start tending to that too.

Bucky blinks in brief surprise. “You don’t have to,” he says lowly, but he doesn’t protest any further nor move away from your touch.

A particular cut on his cheek makes him wince when you go over it, and absentmindedly, you grasp his chin to tilt his head back your way. He blinks hard again.

“Stay still,” you chide, pursing your lips in concentration. He does just that.

Finally, you’re done. When you pause in your ministrations, your breath nearly catches in your throat as your eyes meet his. It’s only now do you realize just how close the two of you are with you leaning in.

You can feel the warmth of his breath when he speaks. “Thanks,” he murmurs quietly into the very little space between you.

“I…” You don’t pull away, not yet. The stormy blue of his eyes up close like this is almost startling. And then you lean back. “Don’t mention it,” you brush off.

Bucky shifts on the toilet seat, eyes still watching you like a hawk as you fix and put away the first aid items away back in their place. “You gonna kick me out now?” he jests, something to ease the tension in the atmosphere. At least, you think that’s what he’s trying to do.

It works, at least. “I’m sure you can show yourself out the door,” you retaliate. You turn back to glance at him. “Unless you need me to hold your hand.”

He rolls his eyes and stands with a grunt. “I think I can manage.”

Oh, fuck, he’s still shirtless—you blatantly realize as he rises to his full height. Suddenly the bathroom feels much smaller than it actually is. If it had been another time, you might’ve laughed since he looks so out of place standing there.

“Well,” you clear your throat, suddenly feeling awkward, “Have a good night, Barnes.”

Bucky shifts on his weight, his combat boots shuffling on the tiles. “That’s it?” he gets out gruffly.

You quirk up a brow. “So you do want me to hold your hand?”

At that, he puffs out a chuckle, tilting his head in a way that makes his hair frame his face. “Lemme borrow a shirt, at the very least. I don’t think putting my gear on again will be any good.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now as you head out of the bathroom. But he does have a point, so you start your way to the bedroom.

“You owe me then. You’re going to stain one of my precious shirts,” you throw a teasing remark over your shoulder.

But he’s right on your heels, trailing after you. You didn’t think he’d been following so closely behind you, so you quickly look back ahead.

He hums aloud. “You’ll let me pay you back in some way.”

“Damn right.”

The two of you enter your bedroom and you make a beeline for one the dressers in search of a shirt that might fit him. Digging through the clothes, you’re still hyperaware of his presence standing by idly.

You fish out an old tee that he might manage to fit in and hold it out to him.

Bucky takes it into his hands with a tilt of his head. “You’re being awfully kind to me, sweetheart,” he tells you.

His comment prompts you to cross your arms. “Well, you did insist on me helping you out,” you argue with a soft shake of your head.

Bucky only stares. “You still could’ve turned me away.”

“Look, I already told you,” you say, exasperated, “I might not like you but I’m not just gonna not do anything when you show up bleeding in my apartment like it’s a patient room or something.”

“Yeah?”

The man still makes no move to put the shirt on, unrelenting in his stare. (Sam is totally right about his staring problem.) It’s unnerving. Dare you say you can feel a flurry of butterflies stirring in your stomach under the weight of it.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

Bucky closes the distance between you ever so slightly. “Thank you,” he affirms, the fabric of the shirt twisting in his grip, “I mean it. Really.”

His genuine gratitude almost makes you take a step back. Instead, you swallow and nod. “You said that already.”

“I did,” he agrees. He takes another step closer. You don’t move back.

But you blink—uncertain, cautious. “You’re acting strange.” You decide to be blunt and confront him on his current antics. His behavior tonight has confused you too much.

It’s the usual back and forth banter that happens between you—but something felt different… too intimate. The way he had showed up at your door, the proximity in the bathroom, this current confrontation right where you’re standing.

“Only on nights like this,” comes Bucky’s reply as he comes to stand right in front of you. He’s not as close as he was when you were patching him up, but enough to where you can smell the lingering alcohol you had used on his wound.

You blink at him. “Nights when you’re injured?”

Bucky puffs out a laugh. It’s a soft sound. But his next words catch you off guard. “Nights when you make it hard to hold back.”

What?

Your surprise must be colored all over your face because you can see the faintest of smirks on his lips. It stirs up another set of butterflies within you.

“Bucky, what the hell are you talking about?” you manage to inquire, trying to steel your nerves. If he’s implying what you think he’s implying, your heart feels like it’s about to leap out of your throat.

“I…” He trails off, his look shifting into something more serious. You can feel the heat of his breath again… but when had he gotten closer? He then murmurs, “Just let me thank you.”

His right hand brushes against the length of your arm, and you can feel the goosebumps he leaves along your skin as he does so. But you don’t pull away. You can’t.

“Put the damn shirt on already, Barnes,” you whisper. You don't even realize that your voice is quieter than you would’ve liked—not with roar of your heartbeat in your ears.

Something cheeky comes across his expression. His smirk returns, and there’s a flicker of mirth in his blue eyes. “I don’t think you want that.”

He’s right though.

You don’t.

“No,” you voice out your agreement.

Against your better judgment, your own hand comes up to tenderly dust your fingertips over his chest. His bare skin is warm and smooth to touch, even with all the scarring both old and new.

Bucky’s breath stutters. It’s a barely audible sound, but you hear it.

What the hell are you doing? Bucky drives you crazy and annoys you to no end—and until now, you thought it had been the same for him. (Turns out you had been driving him crazy in a different way.) There’s a blooming sensation in your chest the longer you stare into Bucky’s eyes.

The words leave your lips before you can think twice.

“I want you to kiss me.”

The world seems to stop for just a moment.

Your lips part in order to say something, anything… maybe to take back the words you had just uttered—before Bucky leans in and kisses you silly.

A groan resonates from his chest as he does. The shirt drops from his metal hand since you can feel the coolness of it cup your cheek, angling your head into the kiss with need.

Your hand mirrors his, feeling the stubble under your palm whilst your other hand allows its fingers to tangle themselves into the threads of his hair.

It’s a blur of what happens next—both of your feet are shuffling against the carpet as you stumble back with his persistence, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed and allowing the two of you to fall onto the mattress.

Bucky presses open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, a hefty laugh sketched onto your skin there. “And here I was, under the impression that you didn’t like me, sweetheart.” He refers to your earlier words.

You want to retort, but you’re a little distracted with the way his weight settles on top of you. God, and he’s still fucking shirtless. You huff, but it’s a fond noise.

He pulls back ever so slightly to look down at you. “Thank you,” he says for the nth time that night. The look in his eyes is enough to make you melt into the bed, but in a pleasant way.

“For what?”

Bucky’s smile radiates charm. For being a man out of time, he’s still got it. “For patching me up. For letting me kiss you. For.. being here for me.”

His unfiltered fondness has your heart thudding faster against your ribcage. Saying “you’re welcome” doesn’t feel right. Doesn’t feel enough. Not for Bucky—not when he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters right now. So you say the next best thing.

“Shut up, Barnes.”

And then your fingers are curling into the nape of his neck to pull him down towards you for another breathless kiss.

Hm. Maybe you can get used to having the night off.

[minlcna]

five knots of affection - george f. weasley

note: thank you for all of the support on my first post! it truly meant a lot. this one-shot wasn't supposed to be as long as it turned out to be, and i haven't perfected it yet, so i might reupload it or edit it later synopsis: george never learned how to tie his tie because you had been there tying it for him until fate tied the two of you together

warnings: cheesy puns and dad jokes which suck but are funny to me (yes i have a terrible sense of humor)

word count: 2.4k

୨୧‿‿‿ 𝜗𝜚 ‿‿‿୨୧

George cannot tie his tie.

No, really, he cannot tie his tie for his life. He reminds you that if you had not tied his tie the first time, your strings of fate wouldn’t have ended up together like this. They would have ended up all tangled and knotted. He reminds you of all the instances in which you had straightened out his tie and your lives.

The first time was at King’s Cross station. It was his and your first year at Hogwarts, and the crowded station was a new experience for you. Mrs. Weasley had insisted on all four of her sons wearing their uniforms to the station, wanting to get pictures before Charlie graduated.

However, Mrs. Weasley was preoccupied with fawning over Charlie. It was his last first day at Hogwarts, and as a prefect and Quidditch captain, his mother made sure to get a lifetime’s worth of pictures.

Percy had helped Fred with his tie, only to be thanked with a handful of stink pellets in his back pocket, which created an odor of dung all around him, surrounding him like a halo. Because of this, Percy refused to help George, who was left to fend for himself.

You had been watching the whole thing with much amusement. The entire red-headed family eased your nerves on the first day, and with feelings of partial pity and partial repayment for the entertainment, you walked up to the younger twin.

You simply tapped him on his shoulder. As he turned around to face you, fingers still entangled in the fabric, you latched your fingers on his. You quickly untangled his fingers from the fabric and slowly guided them down.

He wanted to back away from the unfamiliar person, but he was stunned by the beauty of the 11-year-old.

Just as he started to wiggle around and grunt in protest, worried that his brothers might use this moment to make fun of him later, you grabbed the tie with both hands, encircling it around his neck and pulling it down slowly to rid the fabric of any creases as you quietly said, “Stay still.”

And just like magic, you inserted the wide end through the loop at the front and adjusted the knot by sliding it upward with just enough room to breathe.

Finally, meeting his widened eyes with a smile, you lowered the collar, said, “Wasn’t so hard, was it?” and tapped the collar’s fall.

George instinctively knew you two had meant to meet and would become good friends.

Since that day, your fate has been tied, and it has become tradition for you to help George with his tie on the train back to Hogwarts.

The second time was just before the Yule Ball started. The doors to the Great Hall were about to open any second, and his tie had become a colossal knot, slowly strangling him. His date was too occupied judging others’ dresses, so she hadn’t noticed the mess her date had become, not as though she could have helped him. She had long nail extensions, which prevented her from using her fingers too much.

He turned around and called out your name with a pleading look. You couldn’t believe how careless he had been to knot up his tie to that extent, but soon, the look of surprise was replaced by urgency. Maybe it was the thought of upsetting your date, leaving his hand to go help another guy, or perhaps it was the thought of everyone walking in with their dates, leaving you and George in front of the doors, trying to clean up the mess and becoming the night’s joke. You grimaced at the thought, threw a look towards your date, and quickly shuffled over to George, working your magic through the fabric, using your wand to clear the creases, and quickly tightening the knot and pulling it up to his collar.

You yanked his collar down and tapped angrily at the fall of his collar as you said, through gritted teeth and a forced smile, “When—will—you—learn—George?”

“Oh, how I love it when you call me George,” he said with a playful grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He gently brushed his fingers along your side as he spoke, gliding them lightly under your arm.

“That is your name, isn’t it?” you snapped back, trying to hide the butterflies in your stomach and quickly ran back to your partner. Slowly, the doors opened, and everyone walked into the Great Hall with their dates in hand.

You caught George giving you a thankful smile during the slow dance, but you missed his gazes on you throughout the night.

The third time was at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Finally, there was some excitement amid the tension and stress. George had been busy helping Charlie set up the tent and the tables outside the Burrow, leaving barely enough time for him to get ready.

The guests soon cluttered in as their voices grew louder, and George had just finished putting on clothes.

“Would you mind helping me with the tie here, m’lady?” he exclaimed, trying to comb his hair with his wand.

You grabbed the wand out of his hand and replaced it swiftly with a comb. Without a word, you slowly took out the brand-new purple tie you had gotten months ago, which coincidentally matched the purple waistcoat George was wearing, too shy to give it without occasion, and placed it on George’s neck. He was now attempting to re-bandage the wound on the side of his head without messing up his now tame, neat hair.

You left the tie resting around George, grabbed the bandage, and went on your tippy toes to wrap it snugly on his head without messing up his hair.

George did nothing but stare at your face as you resumed tying the tie.

“You know…” he started, looking down at your face.

“Hmmm,” you lazily replied without meeting his eyes.

“I was thinking about my tie. And how it must be magic. It always leads to knot-worthy moments between us,” he said, finishing cheekily.

You couldn’t help but smile at the little pun as you crossed the wide end over the narrow end.

“Like as…?” You trailed off as you glanced up at him; your fingers looped the wide end of the tie back underneath the narrow end.

“I was thinking about how ties bring us together, and it hit me—you’re the one who ties my world together. So, how about we knot up some time together?” he asked nervously, chewing his lip from the inside.

You looked up, took in a breath, and froze your fingers. You couldn’t believe your ears, and your heart was beating simultaneously, feeling it dropping to your stomach. You were still holding in that breath and were now trying to move.

But just as suddenly as George had confessed, you scrunched up as much of the tie as you could and pulled him towards you. Leaning in, you closed the small gap between you. You didn’t give yourself time to think, to second-guess what you were about to do.

Your lips met his—firm, warm, and slightly chapped. It wasn’t perfect or practiced, but it felt real. George went still for a split second as if he hadn’t fully processed what was happening before encircling his arms around your waist, holding you softly as if afraid to break you.

He tilted his head, adjusting, and the kiss deepened. The fabric of his tie, still bunched in your hand, was soft against your fingers as you clung to it like an anchor.

When you finally pulled back, your cheeks felt hot, and your breaths came faster than before. George’s smiling eyes locked on yours, and for a second, the two of you just stood there, sharing flustered grins.

“It was love at first knot, for you and me, I mean,” you said cheekily, your hands still holding on to his forearms.

“Oh, I see I have competition now for my tie jokes. It is absolutely un-bow-lievable!” he replied.

You burst into giggles. Your attention suddenly returned to the wedding, and you became aware of the music and laughter coming from outside.

“Let me fix that for you,” you said as you pulled out your wand and muttered a quick spell to straighten the tie and remove creases.

“Aye, where’s the fun in that?” George exclaimed, wanting you in proximity again.

“Something is telling me that if I come to fix your tie again, we’re going to miss the wedding, and I can’t have Fleur and Molly blaming me for keeping you away all night,” you said, putting your wand back and turning your back to George as you tidied yourself up in the mirror.

"Jumping so fast to a night together, hmm?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows in that signature mischievous way that always left you both laughing and exasperated. "Blimey, didn’t think I was that charming, but I won't complain!"

You ignored his comment, trying to fight the wild thoughts in your head and the flush on your face. Your eyes met him in the mirror as he flashed his notorious grin.

Your eyes widened as you hastily turned back around. "George, no!" you exclaimed, and before you could stop him, George had wholly pulled off his tie and wrinkled it.

You sighed in disappointment, arms flapped down, at a loss for what to say. George leaned in, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone.

"I like it when you personally tie the tie," he declared, tilting his head and flashing you his trademark lopsided grin. "It’s tradition, isn’t it? Besides, magic’s no good for something as important as this. Magic can't give me kisses as good as yours."

And before you could respond, you heard voices calling you down to the wedding.

The next time ended up being your wedding. Your dad had led you down the aisle, and once you reached the altar and faced George, you noticed the crooked tie. In habit, you reached to fix the tie, ignoring everyone else in the crowd.

George’s hands covered yours mid-adjustment. His voice was soft and teasing as he said, “Darling, you’re supposed to say ‘I do’ first.”

The crowd laughed gently, but you didn’t care. Looking into his eyes, you grinned, “I do. Now, hold still.”

With practiced fingers, you straightened his tie one last time, the one you had personally picked out for this day. A deep purple silk that matched the vibrant ivy adorning the wedding arch. Satisfied, you looked up at him and caught his gaze—full of love, warmth, and that eternal mischief.

“Perfect,” you said quietly.

“You always make me so,” he replied, his voice barely audible to anyone but you.

When the vows were exchanged, and the officiant declared you husband and wife, George didn’t wait for permission to kiss you. He pulled you close, his hands warm against your back, and kissed you like it was the first and last time all at once. Cheers erupted around you, but for a moment, the world consisted of just you two.

Later, during the reception, George’s tie had again gone askew, this time from all the dancing and celebration. He found you in the crowd and dramatically plopped into the chair beside you.

“Wife of mine, it appears your services are needed again,” he said, holding out the wrinkled tie like a knight’s banner.

Laughing, you grabbed the tie, deftly fixing it. “You’d think you’d learn by now,” you teased.

“Never,” he declared, pulling you into his lap. “How else am I supposed to get you this close?”

The last time was when your six-year-old daughter learned to tie a tie herself. It was far from perfect—crooked and loose, with one end far longer than the other—but you couldn’t bear to correct her. Not when her little face was so scrunched up in concentration, her tiny hands fumbling with the fabric as if it were the most crucial task in the world.

“Well, what do you think, Daddy? Did I do a good job?” your little girl asked, her big eyes shining with hope.

You playfully nudged George, who was grinning from ear to ear as he admired his daughter’s handiwork.

“Done!” she exclaimed proudly, stepping back to admire her handiwork on George, who was crouching his knees with the patience of a saint.

George looked down at the tie, then back up at her, his face lighting up with exaggerated delight. “Blimey, love, this might be the best one yet! Perfectly wonky—just my style.”

He moved closer to her ear and mock whispered “Better than any your mum’s ever done.”

“Oi!” you interjected with mock indignation, your hands on your hips. “Let’s not forget who’s been saving your neck—literally—for years.”

George chuckled, reaching out to pull both of you into a warm embrace. “I think it’s safe to say I’m the luckiest bloke alive, having my two favorite girls take care of me.”

Your daughter giggled, squirming happily between you. “Does this mean I can tie Daddy’s ties forever now?”

You exchanged a tender look with George. “I suppose,” you said, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “but only if you promise to teach your daddy how to do it himself someday.”

George feigned a gasp of horror. “Traitor! I thought you were on my side, darling!”

Your daughter giggled again, delighted by the playful banter, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered joy, the kind you wanted to freeze in time forever.

Later, after she had scampered off to play, George turned to you, tugging at the lopsided knot still hanging around his neck.

“Well, Mrs. Weasley, care to show her how it’s done?”

You rolled your eyes fondly, stepping closer. “I suppose someone needs to teach her the right way.”

George leaned forward, his hands resting lightly on your hips as you began to work on the tie. His voice was soft and full of warmth.

 “You know, every time you do this, I think about that first day at King’s Cross. How lucky I was that you decided to help a hopeless eleven-year-old with his tie.”

You glanced up, your fingers pausing. “Lucky? You’ve been scheming ways to make me tie your ties ever since.”

“And you’ve been falling for it every time,” he teased, his grin boyish and irresistible. “Must be love.”

You finished tying the knot and smoothed it down, your fingers tapping his collar, hands lingering against his chest. “Must be.”

George kissed you then—soft and sweet, his arms pulling you closer as if he never wanted to let go. And in that moment, with your daughter’s laughter echoing down the hall and George’s tie finally, perfectly in place, you knew that your strings of fate would remain tied together forever.

[edwardslvrr]

CHAPTER 25 𐙚 lewis hamilton

౨ৎ lewis hamilton x younger!girlfriend!reader

the one where lewis and reader have a 14 year age gap and the media keeps commenting on it, making reader unsure about their relationship when lewis reassures her quickly ( based on this request )

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yourinstagram ml, had the best time w you. now go vroom around in circles in miami!!💘💘

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[isagispuzzle]

HEYYYY CONGRATS ON 200 FOLLOWERS!!!! I was wondering about if you could make an " accidentally falling asleep on his shoulder" like in the subway, the bus... Idk. I don't think I need to say this since I always tell you, but I LOOOVEREE your fics sm😭 fav tumblr writer they are always adorable

SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT and thank you so much for all the support you've given!! i love to read the replies you leave on my posts, i hope you enjoy reading this one too!

despite his soft, flowy hair and his gentle features, chigiri is nothing but steel-hearted and feisty. he gets impatient easily, and doesn't let it slide when others cross his boundaries. he's the type to tell the waiter when they get his order wrong—nicely, of course, and he's the type to stand up against the childish boys who picked on you when you were younger.

which is exactly why he became your best friend, the one you turn your brain off around because you trust him with your life. while others may find such reliance burdensome or tiring, chigiri loves it. with you around, he feels important, and when others see how you're able to depend on chigiri, they stop treating him like a delicate princess.

it's pretty funny, because what they see isn't even all of it. they see chigiri carrying your bags, tying your shoelaces, and picking up snacks for you, but they don't see your contact at the top of his favourites, the released tension in your shoulders when you hold his hand in a crowded place, or the note full of all your favourite things in his phone. they don't see that behind your immense trust in chigiri is his unwavering trust that no one else out there can treat you as well as he does.

so when you fall asleep against chigiri's back while he's cycling you home from his place, he secures your arms around his waist and slows down. he feels your warmth seep through his thin t shirt, made worse by the warm summer air, and he revels in it. even after years of having you by his side, these reminders of your unbreakable bond and little touches still send his heart racing. he's so thankful that you're fast asleep, because god forbid you hear how loudly his heart was pounding in his chest.

chigiri teases you for falling asleep even on a moving bike when you wake up right outside your door. you laugh it off and thank him for sending you home, and it's only when you glance at the clock in your room that you realise over an hour has passed since you left chigiri's house, even though it's just a fifteen minute journey.

[leighsartworks216]

I'll See You In The Morning

Zayne x gn!Reader

Soooo I listened to the "Silent Poem" Secret Times and immediately wrote this cuz OUGHHHHHGHH you understand

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: fluff, smut, established relationship, kissing, biting, creampie, gentle sex, light teasing, banter, gender neutral smut (no parts described)

Word Count: 719

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Quiet breaths mingle with each other. Small sounds, stolen from your throat, find their way into his, swallowed up with deep, languid kisses. Even then, he's so needy. Desperate to consume you, to feel and taste and hear you, as he takes you on your shared bed.

Zayne pulls away with a gasp, refusing to stray too far as his nose brushes yours. You cup his flushed cheeks in both hands and draw him back in. He doesn't fight against it. His tongue licks into your mouth, hot and slick with saliva.

His hands cradle you sweetly. One underneath you, supporting your lower back. The other wrapped under your knee to keep you open for him and reduce the strain on your leg, the other hooked over his hip. Your own hands slide from his face to wrap around him, tangling into his hair and dragging your nails teasingly over his back, not near hard enough to break the skin, but enough to draw a shiver from him.

He whines under his breath as he parts for only a second, "You tease..."

He uses his arm underneath you to angle your hips, thrusting in to perfectly fill you, perfectly knocking against that sweet spot inside of you. He grins against your mouth as you moan, but that sound, too, is quickly swallowed up by your dear doctor. You squeeze your legs around him, wordlessly begging him for more, but he continues to roll his hips at this slow pace. You're already dripping onto the bed sheets; does he intend to make you soak through the mattress, too?

You tug on his hair. He groans, following the pull, drawn up to lean further over you, thrust just that much deeper into you. His breath hitches, hips faltering when you squeeze around him.

"Are you close?" he breathes against your lips. "I can feel it..."

You pull away, panting, to trail mindless kisses along his jaw and throat. His Adam's apple bobs with a low groan. "Will you fill me, doc-tor?" You bite softly at his pulse, thrumming wildly under his skin.

He nudges you out of his neck to kiss your own, sucking desperately at your skin, licking at the salty sweat glistening in the dim light. "Will you take me, my love?"

You're so close now. With each thrust, the tension in your gut ramps higher and higher, coiling tightly, ready to break. His cock twitching against your walls only fuels the fire.

You tug him back to your mouth, kissing him as though not doing so would end the world. "All of you..." you promise in a broken whimper. "P-Please, Zayne... Need you..."

His thrusts falter, stuttering as the tension snaps and you clutch around him, determined to milk him dry. He gasps and kisses you deeper, needier, as he stills, buried as deep within you as possible. Hot ropes of cum fill you to the brim, soon dripping onto the sheets.

When you can think again, he pulls away slowly, his weight a grounding presence on top of you, tying you to the world once more. He presses soft kisses, chaste and loving, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth.

"Are you alright?" he whispers. His eyes are hazy with post-orgasmic bliss as they seek yours out. His arm gently lowers your leg from his hold so that he may cup your cheek and get you to look at him. "Did I hurt you?"

You shake your head sleepily, all energy sapped from your body. "You were perfect," you reassure him with a light kiss to his lips. They're bruised and kiss-swollen, shimmering with saliva, and so gorgeous. You can't help stealing one more. "Mmm, we made a mess..."

He chuckles breathlessly. "You'll be asleep before we can clean up."

"Before you can clean up... You're the one that woke me up..."

"I wanted to see my spouse again after so long. Is that a crime?"

"Mhm. Gonna arrest you for it... as soon as I'm awake..."

If only you were conscious enough to see the lovestruck grin on his face, the adoration in his eyes. He presses one last, lingering kiss to your lips as your eyes flutter shut. "Don't worry, my love. I'll take care of it... I'll see you in the morning..."

---

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