#and I am concerned that my manager is going to try to make me fill a position when I get back that I don’t think we should be running today

[sluttyten]

The will to get out of bed this morning is just not there

[lovemomhatepolice]

cravings - carlos sainz jr.

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pairing: carlos sainz jr x fem! reader

warnings: established relationship, pregnancy sex, needy!reader, cursing, p in v, fingering, tits playing, pet names, creampie, English is my second language!

type: smut! with small plot

word count: 2,8k

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER

summary: after dinner with his parents, carlos must properly take care of his pregnant fiancée

more content: formula 1 masterlist, carlos sainz masterlist

a/n: I encourage you to give requests in the Christmas marathon! click here :) and my first thousand celebration PLEASE I AM DESPERATE, I HAVE TO WRITE SOMETHING!

Ever since you met Carlos' parents, you've loved them. And they have loved you. You always had a nice time, the conversations never stopped, and your cheeks hurt from laughing.

And so it was today, too - despite your almost seventh month of pregnancy, where your belly was already quite large and your uterus was pushing against your other organs inside, which was damn tiring, you had a good time at dinner with his parents.

“Eat up, darling. You’re eating for two, remember,” Reyes said with a playful wink.

You chuckled softly, but as you tried to make room for even one more bite, you couldn't help but let out a tired sigh. The baby had been particularly active today, and now, after a full meal, the pressure on your ribs and stomach was becoming nearly unbearable.

Carlos leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You okay, amor?” he whispered softly, his eyes full of concern.

“Yes, it's just that Ava is giving me a hard time today,” you laughed under your breath, stroking your belly.

Yes, you had a baby girl whose hair on examination was as thick and dark as Carlos'. Even though they had only recently grown into her. And you could have sworn you saw tears in his eye when he saw that on the screen at your gynecologist, too.

Now, as you caressed your belly, Carlos placed a tender hand over yours, feeling Ava’s little movements beneath your skin. "She’s a fighter already, just like her mamá," he murmured with a soft chuckle, his voice filled with admiration.

Carlos's Sr eyes sparkled as he watched the two of you. “Ava is already making sure everyone knows she's a Sainz,” he said with a proud smile.

Reyes reached across the table to squeeze your hand. “I can’t wait to meet her. She’s going to be beautiful, just like her mother.”

“Just say the word, and we’ll leave whenever you want. I’ve got you.” Carlos said to you, whispering.

And with these words Carlos smiled at you and put his hand on your thigh, gently stroking the hem of your dress with his fingers. You immediately became hot for this activity. Your fiancé always managed to make you ready in an instant. And so it was today, too, and all the exhaustion Ava was giving you disappeared.

You shifted slightly in your chair, fighting the urge to press your thighs together as his fingers continued their teasing strokes just beneath the tablecloth, hidden from everyone else. You shot him a warning look, trying to convey that this wasn’t the place, but Carlos, ever the playful one, only smirked, his dark eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Carlos...” you whispered, your voice low and breathless, as if the very air between you crackled with electricity. “Behave"

Carlos merely grinned, leaning back in his chair as if nothing had happened, though his fingers still lingered for just a moment longer before he finally pulled away. The absence of his touch left you feeling almost bereft, but it also sent a silent promise for later, when you would finally be alone.

And although you often had cravings for sweet things, this time you wanted something spicy and hot...

~ The road home was quiet. Your hormones had subsided, and Carlos was no longer going crazy with his fingers. Everything seemed to stop. You were a little tired, but happy. You loved the time with his parents, who were to become your family in the near future. Carlos was also terribly happy - for a while he could forget about his driving duties, the impending end of his Ferrari career and the whole that world.

“Thank you for tonight,” you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. “I really needed that.”

Carlos glanced at you with that gentle smile that always melted your heart. “Me too, carino,” he replied, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “Being with my parents and especially with you is always amazing"

You just smiled at him and both of you entered the house. Your shared house, where you had not so long ago moved in. It was quiet inside, and the only sound you could hear was the water Carlos turned on for tea. This had been your ritual since you became pregnant - every day you drank tea before bed.

You stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Carlos move around the kitchen with ease.

“Which one do you want today?” he asked, although he knew the answer well. But he asked anyway, in case you changed your answer or wanted to surprise him. “Peppermint,” you muttered, smiling sincerely at him. It was your favorite, especially now that you were pregnant.

When you heard the whistling of the kettle, you turned around and slowly began walking toward your living room. You sat comfortably on the couch, adjusting the cushions under your back, and waited for your fiancé, watching the view outside the window.

Carlos soon joined you, carrying two mugs of steaming tea. He set them on the coffee table and then sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Instinctively, you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. A few minutes of longed-for silence passed, when Carlos spoke up.

“Wait here for me,” he muttered, kissing you on the forehead. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared from your field of vision and rushed upstairs, where your bedroom, bathroom and many other rooms were located. As you drank the last sips of your tea, you heard the water in the bathtub begin to run, and Carlos ran down the stairs. He joined you on the couch for another second before he easily lifted you in his arms, obviously being careful not to hurt either you or Ava, and started walking up the stairs. It was as if you weighed nothing.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound light and breathless as Carlos carried you up the stairs with such ease. “You really don’t have to carry me every time, you know,” you teased, even though you secretly loved it. It made you feel cherished, protected.

“You're my queen, you deserve it,” he laughed, kissing you lightly on the neck, tickling with his stubble. “Oh, and you're my Prince Charming,” you laughed, seeing his boyish grin.

"So here I am"

He carried you over to the bathroom, where the sound of water filled the air, gentle and inviting. The bathtub was already nearly full, steam curling up to fog the mirrors, and rose petals floated on the surface, turning the water into a delicate sea of pink and red.

“How did you do it so fast?” you asked as he gently set you down. Your bathroom had never been so beautiful before. Even if it wasn't quite as clean now as it was at first, that was definitely not the point. “I'm fast,” he muttered, placing his large hands on your hips. “Maybe not so fast as to win the championship, but you have your charm.”

You hit him lightly on the shoulder, giggling. Even at a time like this, he was able to laugh at himself. That's exactly what Carlos was - loving, caring for his loved ones. He was the sunshine that was often missed. “You'll win again someday,” you said, standing closer to him and smacking him gently on the lips. “In my eyes, you win every time.”

He helped you out of your dress with such tender care, his hands never lingering too long, though you could feel the heat in his gaze as he admired your body—rounder, softer, growing with the life you were creating together. Once you were undressed, he guided you carefully into the warm bath, making sure you were comfortable before joining you.

As you made yourself comfortable in the tub, Carlos' hands immediately found a place on your belly, gently stroking it. The water around you was pleasantly warm - not as hot as always and not too cold. It was just perfect, surrounding your swollen body as it should. Its scent was unearthly, gently teasing your nostrils, but enjoyably so.

“Does that feel good, mi amor?” he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper against your ear.

"Mhm" you mumbled, tilting your head to look at him.

“Ava’s been really active tonight, huh? She must be trying to get your attention,” he teased, his tone filled with wonder as his fingers brushed against a spot where she shifted slightly beneath your skin.

You smiled, covering his hand with yours as you both felt your daughter move. “She definitely takes after her daddy, always wanting to be the center of attention,” you teased back.

“Or after her mommy, who cries out for my attentions every time,” he muttered, looking into your eyes. “Oh, for real?” you asked teasingly, raising your eyebrows.

The atmosphere around you became hot, and it was not due to the warmth of the bath. Or the steam that was rising throughout the bathroom. “Mhm, look how wet you are” he whispered, directing his hand to your clit. You sighed as his fingers touched your tender skin where you needed it most. Your libido during pregnancy was not lower at all. Especially when you saw Carlos as he was now. A wet body that was properly trained, the messy hair you loved so much and softly rosy cheeks from the warmth that surrounded you.

“Carlos,” you groaned, involuntarily tightening around his fingers, which entered you. Carlos moved them rhythmically inside you, his thumb teasing your clit, which had become even more sensitive to his touch during your pregnancy. You couldn't resist it, and especially when his other hand slid down to your hard nipples. He caressed your neck with his lips, alternately placing subtle kisses and bites on it.

“Shh, cariño,” he murmured, his lips grazing the edge of your jawline. “I just want to make you feel good… let me take care of you,” he added, his voice low and husky, filled with that sultry tone that always drove you wild.

You didn't need much. Looking at how sensitive you were, you soon became a moaning mess around his fingers. Carlos knew what he was doing. He hit the perfect spot with them, circling his thumb around your clit, which accelerated your waves of ecstasy even harder. On the other hand, he continued kissing your neck, leaving there the love bites he most likely loved when you were wearing it. His dexterous hands squeezed and stroked your large breasts, which ached more often and harder. And your strained nipples, where milk was being produced.

"Good girl" he muttered against your neck, feeling your orgasm around his fingers.

“Carlos, please,” you muttered, turning your head to him. Your man joined your lips in a passionate kiss, slightly biting your lower lip to give him access to your mouth. Your tongues fought a fierce battle, but you wanted one thing. Without hesitation, you corrected your position on top of him and touching his cock, directed him to your entrance and gently leaned on him, your other hand catching on his neck. “Shh, fuck,” he moaned into your mouth, starting to move inside you.

“Oh,” you moaned, catching his neck more firmly with your right hand. With your other hand you held your breast, squeezing harder than Carlos had done before. Today you didn't want it to be gentle. You felt such a great need to fuck inside you that you were off limits. “Carlos, don't limit yourself,” you muttered into his swollen mouth.

“I don't want to hurt you,” he whispered with caring eyes. His hand wandered to your clit again, even though he knew full well how it would end. Before the pregnancy, you mostly came at similar times, but now you knew that tonight would not just be your second orgasm, but one in a row. “You won't hurt,” you said, grabbing his face tighter and looking straight into his beautiful chocolate eyes. “Just fuck me harder.” There was a hunger in his eyes that you hadn't seen in a long time. The bathroom was getting hotter by the second, even though the water was evaporating faster and faster. Carlos clung harder to your lips, kissing you with the great passion that had been between you from the beginning. You have always wanted each other in the same way, without letting it get any worse - it just kept getting better and better. And as if on cue, Carlos sped up, hitting you with his full length where he was supposed to hit. You moaned into his mouth, and he was not indebted to you. Although he was focused on giving you and himself physical pleasure, all the while he was muttering sweet nothings to you.

“You are so beautiful,” he purred into your mouth. “All swollen with my baby inside your beautiful body, fuck”. You moaned at his words. It was true, of course it was true. You were all sore and swollen, but it was his baby you had inside you. Your longed-for child, the one you had been trying for not so long, but she was the one you had been waiting for.

“Carlos, I'm so close,” you muttered into his mouth, pulling slightly away from him to look between you. Oh, that view was compelling every time. Carlos was going in and out of you with deadly speed, making the tub shake, and you could have sworn that if there had been neighbors around you, they would have definitely heard what was going on with you. “I know, carino, I know,” he said, and his gaze landed on the same spot as yours. By this time, your juices were blending together perfectly, making an unusual mess in the tub. His cum combined with your juices and you could watch it pour out of you.

You have never been bored by this view. It might have seemed strange to someone, but you and Carlos, once you could admire your liquids spilling out of your pussy, were in cloud nine. It was a kind of quiet promise, a moment of privacy and intimacy you shared with no one else.

"I love you so so much" he muttered, kissing you now lightly.

He continued to move inside you, but this time only so you could come down from your orgasm, just as he did. Your pussy clamped down on him, pleasantly enveloping him with its tightness. You both loved the feeling - you then finally felt as full as possible, and Carlos felt that he had found his place. However silly it sounded. You guys loved it.

When you cooled down and the water became unpleasantly cool, you decided to get out of the tub. Carlos did it first, so that he could safely help you. He carefully wrapped you in a soft, fluffy towel, his hands remaining on your wet skin, warm and soothing as he gently dried your shoulders and then your hands. His touch was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring your touch, making sure every inch of you was taken care of.

You stood in front of the mirror, your reflection soft in the dim light, your body round with Ava, the little life growing inside of you. Carlos moved behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he gently ran his hands over your shoulders, his touch lingering with care.

He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear. “You are beautiful,” he purred, kissing the lobe of your ear. “I can't wait for Ava to get here and see it too.” You smiled with emotion at his words and turned to face him, placing your hands on his cheeks. You stood on your toes, gently kissing him on the lips. You felt him smile under the pressure of your lips, which you shared. “She will be even more beautiful. After all, her father is Carlos Sainz Jr, the fucking Prince Charming of Formula One.”

A/N: how I love pregnancy content!! AND CARLOS, OMG, my favorite driver, and I only have one one-shot with him, what's a shame (open orders, feel free to give ideas!)

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[satellite-evans]

Can't pay the bills

A/N : a blurb that came out of nowhere lol enjoy

word count : 600 words ( she's cute)

Harry was sprawled out on the couch, a book in one hand and a cup of tea resting precariously on the coffee table. His oversized sweater and reading glasses made him look like the coziest man alive, completely at peace in your shared home.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, your phone secretly set up to record. The idea for this prank had come to you last night, and you couldn’t resist giving it a go. Harry was so doting, so protective—it was bound to be hilarious.

“Harry,” you called out, your voice tinged with just enough worry to catch his attention.

His head snapped up immediately, the book falling shut in his lap. “What’s wrong, love?”

You wrung your hands for dramatic effect, sighing as you stepped into the living room. “I need to talk to you. It’s… important.”

Harry straightened, sliding his glasses off and setting them on the coffee table. His green eyes searched your face, a flicker of concern crossing his features. “Alright, what is it?”

Taking a deep breath, you sat beside him, biting your lip. “I can’t pay the bills this month.”

There was a beat of silence. Harry blinked at you, visibly confused. “What?”

“I… overspent. Like, really overspent,” you explained, avoiding his gaze. “And now, I don’t have enough to cover the bills.”

Harry tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “Darling, you don’t pay the bills.”

You paused, thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He chuckled lightly, though his confusion was apparent. “You’ve never paid the bills. That’s my thing. Always has been.”

You tried to salvage the prank, pressing on. “Well, yeah, but I was trying to be responsible this month! Take some of the load off you, you know? And now I’ve failed.”

Harry gave you a look, one eyebrow raised. “You’re telling me you suddenly decided to take over paying the bills, which I’ve always handled, without telling me… and somehow ran out of money?”

You nodded solemnly, trying to keep a straight face.

He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms. “Alright, let me get this straight. You’ve managed to spend more than what’s in your account, on top of what I’ve already set aside for everything? Love, what did you buy? A yacht?”

At that, you snorted, quickly covering your mouth. Harry’s lips twitched, and you could tell he was holding back a laugh.

“You’re not upset?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“I’m baffled, not upset,” he replied, shaking his head. “I mean, I’d be thrilled if you wanted to be more involved, but you don’t have to. You know I love taking care of you, yeah?”

That did it. The guilt of pranking him—and the tenderness in his voice—made you burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, Harry, it’s a prank!” you admitted, clutching your stomach as you leaned forward.

Harry stared at you for a moment before a slow grin spread across his face. “A prank, huh? You think it’s funny to make me think my wife suddenly decided to ruin my perfectly balanced system?”

You were laughing too hard to reply, especially as Harry reached over to tickle your sides mercilessly.

“That’s what you get,” he teased, his voice filled with mock indignation. “Prank me, will you?”

“Harry, stop!” you cried, wriggling away as he pulled you into his arms, still grinning.

When you finally caught your breath, you looked up at him, his face close to yours. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“Sweet, am I?” he said, his voice softening. “You’re lucky I adore you, or I’d make you pay me back by doing the washing up for a week.”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, love,” he whispered, kissing you gently.

[mistywaves98]

okay imagine we're like the really rich owner of a big company and scara is underneath our desk giving us head while he forces us to continue working on documents, when all of sudden, not one but three of your employees have come to make a report about the data for this month and he just starts going faster, trying to make you falter in front of those people

(apologies for this long ask i am currently craving for this man, love your writinggg :D)

I'm so glad you love my writing and don't worry, this ask isn't long at all 💕

✧･ﾟ:* ->Assistant! Scara x Boss! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Fem! Reader, Oral (f. receiving), sort of public sex(?)!

You're not exactly sure why you let Scaramouche do this. It's inappropriate and indecent. And it was sure to wreck your reputation if anyone found out. "That's the thing, if anyone found out, boss. So just keep quiet and everything will work out," the words rolled off his tongue like droplets of honey laced with persuasion that you just couldn't say no to. And you couldn't deny that the sight of him between your legs, under your desk, was rather arousing, especially when he looked up at you with those eyes full of mischief.

With your denim skirt hiked up to your waist and panties pulled to your ankles, you found your cunt getting absolutely ravaged by your assistant's tongue. The words on the papers splayed across your desk seemed to blur as Scaramouche lapped at your juices like a starved man. You were holding your pen so tightly it might snap at any moment, the other hand lost in his hair as you practically buried his face between your legs which trembled and shuddered with pleasure.

"Mmn... Ahh...! S-scara, are you really sure..—ngh!—if this is- mmph!" A particularly harsh suck to your clit cuts you off, making you drop your pen with a soft clatter as a hand smacks over your mouth. Scaramouche lifts his head ever so slightly, momentarily pausing his feasting to give you a cocky grin as he drums his fingers against your thighs,"Boss, you really need to learn how to live a little, to take risks. Stop worrying so much and just let me make you see stars.."

Without another word, his head dives back between your legs, continuing to eat you out like a man starved. All you could do was try to conceal your noises as you felt your climax approach. However, just as you were about to open your mouth, there's a knock at the door. The sound makes both of you freeze, your eyes going wide in horror as a soft groan of frustration slips past your lips. Just your luck! The knocking persists and you're worried it might be urgent so you quickly scramble to try and make yourself look presentable.

After managing to appear somewhat decent, you called out in a shaky tone,"Come in..!". Your body stiffened as not one, but three of your employees filled the room, standing a small distance away from your desk. You prayed that they didn't notice Scaramouche beneath the furniture but they seemed too focused on you. The first one begins to speak, but their words go in one ear and out the other the moment you feel the familiar sensation of your clit being kitten licked.

Your hand itched to go under the desk to pull his face away from your dripping pussy, but you daren't even look down. But if you did, you'd be met with Scaramouche's sly smile as he goes back to lapping at your cunt, collecting your juices on his tongue as he licked long stripes up your drooling slit. It was nothing less than entertaining to watch you try to keep your composure in front of others, your fists clenched so hard your knuckles were white and beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.

"Um, boss? Are you alright? You're looking a bit...tense." One of the employees asked out of innocent concern, none the wiser to your predicament. Your face flushed more and your posture stiffened as you forced yourself to play it off, biting back moans as you spoke,"What...? No, of course n-not! It's just...hot today..." It was a poor excuse and you wanted to slap yourself for stuttering but your workers seemed to buy it, resuming with the original topic.

You practically slumped back in your chair with relief as soon as the door was closed, throwing your head back as you moaned from the way Scaramouche's tongue felt inside of you. Your body was so sensitive from being kept on edge after all this time, it only took a couple of figure eights around your clit to make you cum. He made sure to catch every drop of your release, drinking it up as if it were the finest wine of the century before pulling his head out from your pussy,"hah, did you even hear a word those employees were saying? Or were you too focused on when you were going to get to cum?"

You bit your lip in embarrassment, tilting your head down to meet his eyes full of triumph,"I'll... I'll have to ask them to reiterate later..."

[ho3smadd]

Don't take it personal...

Parings... Theodore Nott x slytherin!reader

Trope... academic rivals to lovers

Warnings... swearing

Summary... Theodore Nott and Y/n have had rivalry to gain the highest grade in Potions for years but when someone gets hurt maybe it's gone too far...

Y/n L/n prided herself on two things: her impeccable grades and her unflappable demeanor. As a Slytherin, she knew the importance of maintaining a composed and strategic front, and she had mastered it to perfection. Except, of course, when it came to Theodore Nott.

Theodore was an enigma, a quiet presence that somehow always managed to get under her skin. He was brilliant, annoyingly so, and the only one who could rival her in Potions. Professor Slughorn often praised their concoctions, hinting at an unspoken rivalry that everyone in Slytherin House was aware of.

Y/n’s competitive spirit was fueled by Theodore’s relentless determination to outdo her. It wasn’t just about the grades; it was about proving herself, about being the best. Every potion she brewed was meticulously crafted, every essay on potion-making filled with insightful analysis and innovative ideas. Yet, no matter how hard she worked, Theodore was always there, a step ahead or right beside her, matching her effort for effort.

One evening, the common room was unusually quiet. Y/n was hunched over her Potions textbook, quill scratching furiously across the parchment. She hadn’t noticed the hours slipping away, the candles burning lower and lower. She hadn’t even noticed her own body’s protests, the gnawing hunger in her stomach because she just had to skip lunch and dinner and the dizzying exhaustion that clouded her vision as her body practically begged for rest.

It was Theodore who noticed. He had been watching her from a distance, his own books spread out in front of him but his attention clearly divided. He saw the way her hands trembled slightly, the way her head dipped closer to the table with each passing minute.

“Y/n” he called softly, but she didn’t respond. She was too engrossed in her work, too caught up in the need to perfect her latest potion theory.

“Y/n!” His voice was sharper this time, cutting through the haze of her concentration. She looked up, eyes glassy with fatigue.

“What, Nott?” she snapped, the sharpness in her voice a stark contrast to her usual calm demeanor.

“You need to eat something. You’ve been at this for hours,” he said, a note of concern creeping into his voice.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though her vision swam as she tried to focus on him.

“No, you’re not,” he argued, standing up and crossing the room to her side. “You’re going to make yourself sick if you keep this up.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but the words didn’t come. Instead, the room tilted violently, and before she knew it, she was falling, darkness closing in around her.

The next thing Y/n knew, she was lying on a couch in the common room, a soft blanket draped over her. She blinked, trying to piece together what had happened. The room was dimly lit, and she could make out Theodore’s silhouette sitting nearby, a worried expression etched on his face.

“What happened?” she mumbled, her voice weak.

“You passed out,” Theodore said bluntly. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself, Y/n. This fucked up competition that we have… it’s not worth your health.”

Y/n tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced her back down. She closed her eyes, frustration boiling inside her. “I can’t just give up, Theodore. I have to be the best.”

“Why?” he asked, his tone softer now. “Why is it so important to you?”

“Because…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because it’s who I am. It’s all I have. We are both well aware of the customs that purebloods have and the expectations my parents have for me to secure a suitable match. This is for me because nothing ever is.”

Theodore sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Y/n, I never saw you as competition.”

His words took a moment to register. She stared at him, confusion mingling with exhaustion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve always admired you, respected you. But I didn’t push myself to outdo you because I saw you as an obstacle. I did it because…” He trailed off, looking almost embarrassed. “Because it was the only way I could get your attention.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/n,” Theodore admitted, his cheeks tinged with color. “But you were always so focused, so distant. Competing with you was the only way I could think of to get you to notice me and prove myself to you.”

She was silent, processing his words. The idea that Theodore had been trying to impress her, to earn her attention, was both shocking and oddly touching. She had always seen their rivalry as a battle, it had never occurred to her that it was his way of reaching out to her.

“Theodore, I…” She paused, uncertain of what to say. “I never knew.”

“Of course not,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t exactly make it obvious.”

She managed a weak smile in return. “You certainly have a unique way of showing it.”

He chuckled, the tension in the room easing slightly. “I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard. I never wanted to see you hurt. And if it means you’ll take better care of yourself, I’ll back off. I don’t need to compete with you to care about you.”

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. For the first time, she saw him not as her rival, but as someone who genuinely cared about her. It was a strange, yet comforting realization.

“You don’t have to back off,” she said softly. “Just… maybe we can find a better way to do this. A way that doesn’t involve me collapsing from exhaustion.”

Theodore’s expression brightened. “I’d like that.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the competitive edge between them replaced by something warmer, something more understanding. Y/n knew it wouldn’t be easy to change the dynamic that had defined their relationship for so long, but she was willing to try. For Theodore, and for herself.

As the days passed, their rivalry transformed into a partnership. They studied together, sharing insights and helping each other improve. Their mutual respect grew, and so did their affection. Theodore’s confession had opened a door that Y/n hadn’t even realized was there, and she was grateful for it.

One evening, as they sat together in the common room, Y/n looked over at Theodore, a smile playing on her lips. “You know, I think we make a pretty good team.”

He smiled back, his eyes warm. “I think so too.”

And in that moment, Y/n realized that she didn’t need to be the best to be happy. She just needed to be with someone who understood her, who cared about her, and who made her feel like she was enough, just as she was. Theodore had given her that, and she was determined to never take it for granted.

A/n... Please let me know what you think because I crave validation 😭

Also requests are openn

[blackenedsnow]

can you do a keatlejuice x fem reader who passes out a lot due to illness?

faint of heart

WARNING: Mentions of fainting due to illness

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x (Fem) Reader

NOTE: Love this idea! I have this problem as well, just not due to illness. So I hope it wrote it decently enough.

SUMMARY: You’ve been dealing with a medical condition that causes you to faint more often than you'd like. Luckily (or unluckily), Beetlejuice, is always nearby when it happens.

You were used to the feeling by now—the lightheadedness that crept in without warning, the sudden exhaustion that drained the strength from your limbs. Still, no matter how accustomed you were to your illness, it didn’t make it any easier when the world around you started to blur and tilt on its axis. It was happening again, the familiar darkness creeping in at the edges of your vision.

“Damn it…” you muttered, swaying on your feet as you reached out to steady yourself against the wall.

Unfortunately, the wall wasn’t much help, and neither was your body. You could already feel yourself slipping, your knees buckling under you as you collapsed. Just before the darkness fully swallowed you, a voice broke through the haze—raspy and loud, with a hint of annoyance.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up there, sweetheart!”

And then, everything went black.

When you came to, the first thing you noticed was the sensation of being cradled in someone’s arms—scratch that, not someone. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was. The smell of dirt, mildew, and that faint hint of something otherworldly told you everything you needed to know.

“Beej,” you groaned softly, trying to sit up, though a wave of dizziness made you reconsider.

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha,” Beetlejuice’s voice came from above you, and you felt yourself being jostled slightly as he adjusted his grip on you. “Don’t go makin’ it a habit to pass out every time you see my face. I know I’m hot, but c’mon.”

You blinked up at him, his wild hair and striped suit filling your vision as you tried to focus. He was holding you, bridal-style, with a grin plastered on his pale face that was just shy of mischievous.

“Y’know, I could’ve just let you hit the floor. But nooo, I’m the good guy here, right? Heroic ghost with the most, swooping in to save the day.”

You sighed, shaking your head weakly. “Thanks, Beej… but you’re really not a hero.”

He scoffed, his grin widening. “Sure I am! Who else is gonna catch you when you go timber like that? Nobody cares for ya like I do, babe.”

As much as you hated to admit it, there was some truth to his words. Despite his odd personality and penchant for making a scene, Beetlejuice was always there when you needed him. No matter how irritating he could be on a daily basis, when it came down to moments like these, he never failed to show up. Somehow. At the perfect time.

“Seriously, though,” he said, his voice dropping into something that almost sounded like concern, though he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. “You gotta stop doin�� this. You’re startin’ to freak me out.”

You managed a weak chuckle, patting his chest. “I don’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, I know.” Beetlejuice let out a huff, shifting you in his arms as he looked down at you with those mismatched eyes. “Still doesn’t mean I gotta like it. I mean, who’s gonna laugh at my jokes if you’re passed out half the time, huh?”

“You’re plenty funny without me,” you teased, though your voice was still quiet and a bit shaky.

“Nah,” he smirked. “I’m only funny ‘cause you laugh at all my dumb shit.”

For a moment, you both went into a comfortable silence. Sure, he was Beetlejuice—weird, loud, and often over-the-top—but beneath all that was something softer, something that genuinely cared about you. He wouldn’t admit it outright (that wasn’t his style), but the way he stayed close during your fainting spells, the way he always made sure you were okay, said more than his snarky comments ever could.

“You okay now?” he asked after a beat, setting you down gently on the couch. “You need anything? Water? Smelling salts?”

You shook your head, leaning back into the cushions as you took a few deep breaths. “I’m alright… just give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need, dollface,” he said, plopping down beside you, legs crossed and his elbow resting on the back of the couch. “But hey, if you feel like passin’ out again, at least let me know so I can catch ya in a cool way next time. Maybe do a little spin, toss ya over my shoulder—y’know, something real dramatic.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the way he could turn even the scariest moments into something almost light-hearted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Beetlejuice winked, tapping the side of his nose. “That’s my girl.”

[wynn-43]

lee minho ~ so tight i'd bruise you

lee minho x gn! reader song: Wild Blue Yonder wc: 4.6k (sorry) warnings: very suggestive at one point (highlighted by °˖✧✿✧˖°), numerous sex jokes (like so many), non-idol AU, they're so in love, strangers to lovers, swearing, reader gets miagranes, mentions of not great friends, they get engaged, scary films, this is so cheesy and silly a/n: red hair lino... the things i'd do for you... anyways! next installment of my The Amazing Devil series!

31st of May, 2019

The lights were so bright, each vibrant flash of RBG dizzying you further. Your head hurt, the pain throbbing in beat with the obnoxiously loud music. You tried to find an exit, some way out of this swirling mass of people, who were sticking together with sweat and spilt drinks.

You stumble around, eyes unfocused as you somehow spot the red-brick of the wall behind the bar. You make your way towards it, narrowly avoiding multiple drunk girls running towards the bathrooms.

You manage to find a seat at the bar, leaning your elbows against the bartop and closing your eyes, trying to block out the light.

“You okay?” You vaguely hear a voice quietly ask.

You blink your eyes open and once your eyes adjust, you’re met with the face of a beautiful man. His dark cherry hair complimented his glowing skin and his deep brown eyes were cat-like– sharp, slightly slanted and full of curiosity. A slight smirk rested on his rosy lips and despite his confident aura, you could see a soft pink blush dusting his neck and ears as you stared at him.

“Hello?” He asked, starling you out of your staring.

“Uh yeah.” You're interrupted by a jolt of pain in your head. “No. No I am not.” You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Oh” He says, obviously surprised by your honesty. “Do you need to go outside?”

“Mhm.” You hum, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Do you need help?” He asks, an odd softness in his voice for someone he just met.

“Uh yes please.” You said, opening your eyes again, wincing at the sudden light change.

“Okay, I will be right there, one second.” He says before rushing off.

All of a sudden he’s at your side, gently taking your elbow and guiding you towards an exit.

The rush of cold air combined with the quieting of the music and the absence of obscenely loud music immediately make you feel better- with the pain quieting down to a gentle thrum every so often.

“So are you okay? You looked really pale back there.” The boy softly asked, eyes focused on you with a mix of concern and inquisitiveness.

“Uh yeah. Migraine. Sorry. Thank you for helping, you can uh, go back if you need.” You fumble, looking to the ground to avoid his beautiful face.

“I took five so it’s all good. Plus, my boss would kill me if anything happened to a customer.” He laughs nervously. “But seriously, are you sure you’re okay?”

You shuffle, barely looking up to meet his gaze before averting your eyes again. “Uh yeah. I think so. It’s my fault, any sort of loud and flashy parties always trigger my migraines.”

“And yet your friends threw you one anyway…” He says???

“Yeah. Uh- wait, how did you know that?” You ask, making eye contact, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach.

He chuckles, “It’s a small bar, there’s only so many birthdays happening at once.”

“Oh” You laugh.” “Yeah, that makes sense.”

You, you told me I was younger (without you, I'm stronger, I'm no longer) That I was filled with wonder How wrong you were For you, I would have gone so much blonder (my lungs were pulled asunder by)

“Happy 25th Birthday by the way. You’re lucky you're still young and filled with wonder.” He says casually, leaning against the wall.

You laugh. “There’s no way you’re that much older than me.”

“Come on, you’re, what, 30? 35?” you tease, laughing at his look of mock offense.

“I’ll have you know I am 27!” he said indignantly.

“HAH! You’re less than a year older than me! Going on about how and filled with wonder, how wrong you were!” You dramatically taunt, making him laugh.

“Fine, fine you got me there.” Glancing down at his watch, his eyes widened.

“Shoot I have to go back.” he says, pushing himself off the wall. “How are you getting home?” he asks.

“Oh, I was just going to walk,” you pause, noticing his astonished look.

“Absolutely not.” He checks his watch again. “I’m off in 15 minutes. Can you wait that long? Then I’ll drive you home.” You once again notice his neck and ears growing pink, brighter this time.

You smirk, “Oh you wanna take me home?” You tease, mentally noticing how his neck and ears turn a vibrant red.

“I-” he stutters. “I just want you to get home safe or whatever.”

“Well, I appreciate it Mr. Wait what’s your name? You ask.

He smiles, “Minho.”

“Well, thank you Mr. Minho, that would be very much appreciated.” You try to hide your growing smile.

“Okay great, you wait here, I’ll see you in 15.” He says as the door swings open, the sudden assault of flashing lights and loud music makes you flinch as the pain spikes up again.

You press yourself against the wall, gasping for air as it feels like your lungs are being pulled apart. After the door closes, you take a few steadying breaths as the pain subsides. You relish in the feeling of the cold night-air enveloping your skin, the pain dissipating with each gentle breeze.

By the time Minho comes back out the pain is virtually gone, replaced with a slight buzz from the cider you’d drank earlier that evening.

“Thanks for waiting.” Minho smiles upon noticing you standing there, almost as if he was surprised you actually waited.

“Why are you thanking me, you're the one driving me home.” You laugh.

He laughs as he leads you towards his car. You gingerly sit in the passenger seat, trying to be cautious with how nice of a car it was.

“So what’s the address?” he asks as he rests his hand on the back of your seat, looking back to make his way out of the parking space.

You feel your throat dry as butterflies swarm in your stomach and you manage to stutter out your address. Whilst your eyes are fixated on your hands resting in your lap, you’re sure that you can see him smirking in the corner of your eye.

“What’s your name by the way? You never told me.” He inquires after putting your address into the car's GPS.

After you introduce yourself the two of you fall into quiet small talk before he arrives out the front of your small apartment.

“Is this it?” He asks, parking once you nod.

“Thank you so much for driving me here.” You say, before the two of you fall into an awkward silence.

“Uh, do you want to come in?” You ask, blushing furiously once you realise what you said.

If it wasn’t for the dark, you would’ve seen him blush furiously, but despite his flusteredness, he remains calm, smirking. “Sure.”

Seen that wild blue yonder and said, "Let's end this, too" So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes off Grip the bathroom rug my skin's grown so soft (Get a grip, we're grown-ups)

°˖✧✿✧˖°

Next thing you know, you’re pressed against the interior of your front door, his mouth hot and urgent against yours. As his lips trail down your neck, you grab at the blue leather jacket on his shoulders, pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor.

“Just so you know” you gasp as he kisses at your neck “I never do this.”

“Same” he murmurs, momentarily pulling back to breathe.

“No like never” You resist a whine as he pulls back.

“You’re a virgin?” he asks, eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh my god, no!” you exclaim, cheeks burning. “I just mean, I’ve never had a hookup before. I’m not… I just haven’t.”

“Oh,” he smirks, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Then I’m honored to be your first.” He leans in, reclaiming your lips with a smile.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

1st of June, 2019

The next morning you wake up early, shocked at how well you slept. Still groggy, you move to get up, before noticing the weight of an arm draped over you and your memories from last night come flooding back.

You stand up, gently removing Minho’s arm and moving a pillow under it, careful not to wake him. You tiptoe towards the bathroom, quickly getting into the shower, sighing as the hot water hits your skin.

The shower was the one place you felt you could relax and unwind- you always used it as a way to collect your thoughts, the gentle rhythm of the water providing a backing music for your racing thoughts.

You step out of the shower, drying yourself off and reveling in the softness of your skin. You decide to make breakfast, assuming pancakes are a good bet, even if you knew absolutely nothing about the man now laying in your bed.

You’re standing there humming to yourself as you flip the final pancake, mentally preparing yourself for going to wake up and confront the man when you turn, suddenly finding yourself looking at said man.

His hair was fluffy and slightly messy from sleep and the neck of his shirt was sliding down on one side exposing his shoulder. He looked confused and you noticed the pile of his belongings in his hands.

“Oh! Good morning, I was just about to wake you.” You place the pancake down before looking back at him, his expression confused. “Are you leaving already? I thought you might want pancakes.” You try to remain casual with your words.

“I assumed you’d want me gone. I mean I wake up and you’re not there…” Minho trails off, laughing. “But pancakes sound lovely, thank you!”

“Oh no I was just hungry,” you laugh along, trying to relieve some of the awkward tensions between you two. “And I always wake up early,” you add.

“How’d you know I like pancakes?” He enquires some time later, that curious glint returning to his eyes.

“Oh, I just figured it was a safe bet.” You giggle.

“So.” Minho starts, making your heart rate spike with anxiety. “We should probably talk about, uh, this.” He gestures between the two of you.

“Oh right. Yeah, uh, sorry.” You stumble over your words, unsure as to where this was going.

“No! No, don’t apologise.” He says, squeezing your knee under the table. “I just uh- wanted to make things clear y’know.” You nod slowly.

“Um, I don’t, y’know, usually do hookups. But there’s something about you.” You look up, noticing the flush of red on his neck and ears.

“I don’t know. I just feel…” he pauses, making eye contact with you, “drawn to you.”

You feel your face heating up and you clear your throat, “Yeah, no me too.” You swallow hard.

“Like, I know we just met, but, there's something about you…” You look back into his eyes, blushing furiously at the soft look in them.

He laughs at your fluster, “I’m glad it’s not just me!”

There’s a pause for a minute or so.

“So, uh, what now?” You ask, still unsure.

“Well um, are you busy today?” Minho asks, that sly smirk back on his lips.

Let's wander 'til the fuckers demand an encore Flirting (wasn't flirting) at the back of a bookshop Come and rip off my socks like you're blasting the locks off of a bank vault (halt) This time we're done for

The two of you end up spending the day together. You walk around your local shops, grabbing a coffee together and talking about yourselves.

You find out he works as a bartender at night so that he can teach dance and volunteer at the local cat shelter during the day. He has three cats that live with his parents, but he visits them weekly and he really enjoys cooking.

In turn, you tell him about your life, what you do for work and how you ended up here. You tell him about your interests, about your friends and you find out you have a shared love for camping and reading.

The two of you visit a bookshop, one of the cute ones with a coffee shop attached. The two of you walk along the rows and rows of books, pointing out the ones you’ve read and the ones you want to.

You notice him giggling as he holds a book. “What are you doing?” You ask suspiciously as you approach him.

His giggles intensify as he tries to talk. “Ar-are you Brenna Yovanoff? Because I want to get rid of The Space Between Us.” He holds out the book in his hands, showing you a copy of The Space Between, laughing even harder at your dumbfounded expression.

“What- What the fuck” you stumble out, at a loss for words, your reaction making him double over in laughter which then led to you follow him.

You look up, immediately noticing the perfect book in front of you.

You pick it up, careful to hide the title and poke him.

“Hey, hey Minho. Are you The Giver?” You ask, flipping the book around. “Because you sure were last night…” He erupts into another fit of laughter, but you definitely notice a red tinge to his neck and ears.

“Excuse me.” A shop worker came up to the two of you. “Could you please keep it down?” She quietly asked.

“Yes. Sorry miss.” You apologise, quickly putting the books back and elbowing the still-laughing Minho before ushering him out of the shop.

“Okay that one was really good.” Minho says once the two of you have calmed down outside.

“Thank you, thank you. I know. Comedic genius right here.” You fake bow before looking into his eyes, blushing at the fondness in them.

“What are you doing tonight?” He suddenly asks.

“Um,” you pause to think, “nothing I think.”

“Do you want to get dinner together?” Minho asks, the soft pink returning to his ears as he averts his eyes from your gaze. “We could get takeout or I can cook for you?”

“I would love that.” You smile, gasping as you get an idea. “On one condition.”

Let's hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Could be wolves

“I really did not think that your ‘one condition’ would be a pillow fort.” Minho chuckles to you from his place at the stove.

“Well.” You start, pausing to run and grab more pillows. “My original idea was a movie but,” you again pause to move a chair over to create a wall. “I know you only like scary movies, and the only way I would watch a scary movie.” You pause as you struggle to pin the sheets up. “Is in a pillow fort.” You turn to the man, smiling at your successful pillow adventure.

However, you didn’t expect to find the man right in behind you, once you turned he immediately cupped your face, his hold so gentle as if he was holding the world in his hands, before kissing you softly and with so much tenderness.

After he pulled back you were almost dizzy, grabbing onto his arms to stop yourself from falling, making him smirk.

“What was that for?” You ask, confused.

“You were just really cute.” He mumbles. “So, dinner?” He pulls away, that signature smirk on his lips.

So hold me, lover, like you used to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you too Every stone you threw I stood on to better see the view

23rd of November, 2024

“What did we even watch anyways?” you ask, tilting your head to look up at him, your cheek pressed against the rise and fall of his chest.

“Uhh…” He paused, his fingers pausing in your hair. “Oh! The Conjuring.”

You shiver, your body stiffening at the memory “God I forgot about that one.” You shuffle so that you’re laying on top of him now. “That one was terrifying.”

Minho laughed at the look of horror in your eyes, his hand resting gently on the side of your face. “It wasn’t that bad…” His teasing words are counteracted by his soft stroking of your cheek.

“Yes, yes it was.” You glare at him, resting your chin on his chest. “It was worth it though.”

Minho smirked teasingly, “Oh? And why was it worth it?”

You smiled, “Because it let me get closer to you.” You poke his chest.

He laughs before going back to staring at you in his typical cat-like way.

I've got something in my eye (I surrender what was) Don't you ever wonder what could have been? All those wonders sit in wait for us, we tried Try, please, try for me

“I love you so much.” He says, catching you off guard with the soft look in his eyes.

“I love you too baby.” You reach up to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“So.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So,” you repeat, planting another on his forehead.

“So.” Your lips brush his other cheek.

“So.” This time, you kiss the tip of his nose, your tone turning lighter, teasing.

“Sooo,” you draw out, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Much.” Finally, you capture his lips in a gentle kiss, lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his smile against yours.

Upon leaning back you’re shocked to find tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay, love?” You ask, concerned.

He quickly dries his eyes, “Yes, just uh, got something in my eye.”

“Liar.” You say lightheartedly, making him chuckle. “What’s wrong?”

“I just love you so much. I’m gonna marry you one day.” Minho murmurs before kissing you, with much more intensity this time.

You pull back, “I can’t wait.” You say before leaning back in.

Come rest for the winter, wear my jumper all night long Those songs we sung, those words we flung For fear of sound All those books that we both drowned And the candle we lit Well, we'll use it to burn this whole place to the ground I'm lost, I'm found in you

The next few weeks are a blur and the two of you spend many nights curled up together, wearing each other's jumpers and reading books together.

One night, you walk into the living room where your boyfriend was setting up for your shared reading session.

“You’re wearing my hoodie!” Minho exclaims, pointing at you as he drops a pillow.

“Yeah! Well you’re wearing mine!” You laugh.

“Only because I couldn’t find mine!” He walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Because you stole it.” He smirked teasingly.

“Oh hush.” You mutter, your hands rested upon his chest. “You love it.”

“I do.” He says before kissing you with a heartstopping intensity. “I really do.”

“Hey” Minho asks later, as you two are curled up reading your books. “Are you Gandalf? Because I’d blindly follow you to Mordor.”

You crack up, “Oh that was horrible!”

“Hey!” He exclaims. “I tried my best! I’d like to see you do better.”

You turn to him, suddenly serious. “I have waited my whole life for this.” He looks shocked and wary at your sudden seriousness.

“Are you Mount Doom? Because you’re hot and I’d walk across Mordor just to give you a ring.” Minho looks stunned.

“Okay that actually wasn’t b-” You cut him off.

“I’m not done.” You give him a mischievous smirk.

“Are you tall and blonde, with pointy ears?” You ask, barely holding back your laughter. “Because after I’m done with you, you’re gonna feel Legolas.” Your composure almost breaks as he giggles.

Minho's eyes light up, “Wait! I’ve got one.” He pauses to compose himself. “Was that a Middle-Earthquake? Or did you just rock my world…”

You press a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Are you the Silmarillion? Because you’re long, hard, and impossible to read.” He says, and it takes every cell in your body not to laugh.

“Are you an orc? Because my Sting lights up whenever you’re around.” The two of you pause for a moment before you burst into hysterical laughter.

“Okay” He manages to get out between laughing fits. “That one wins.”

Hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Can't you hear that scratching? Hold me, lover, like you used to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you too

1st of June, 2019

“AH!” You shriek, shocking the poor man next to you. “Something touched my foot.” You say, freezing in fear.

“Yeah my foot, dumbass.” Minho laughed at your embarrassed expression.

You pressed your face into a pillow, exasperated at your own dumbassery.

“If you’re that scared we can stop.” Minho offered, his voice soft.

You look up. “No. No. I’m fine. Just.” You paused. “Just hold me?”

You giggle internally at the soft pink blush that decorates his neck and ears.

“I- yeah. Of course.” He mumbles and the two of you shuffle around to a more comfortable cuddling position.

Later on, when you jump and bury your face in his chest in fear, he won’t tell you about how tightly you squeeze him, how his muscles ache under the pressure.

Even when he wakes up the next morning and sees the soft purple bruise painting his arm, he doesn’t regret it. Because holding you like this was worth every second.

Every brick you hurled I'll use to build this world This world, this world, this world Let's hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Could be all our demons, darling

14th of December, 2024

“What are we watching this time?” You ask, curling up in Minho’s arms within your makeshift pillow fort- something that had become a weekly tradition.

“I was thinking of The Conjuring.” He teases, laughing as you smack his arm.

“Absolutely not.” You pout.

“Hmm. Fine. How about…” he hums, “Smile.”

You turn to glare at him, huffing. “Never. In a million years. Ever.”

“Okay, okay.” He laughs, “How about you go get snacks and I’ll choose something less scary.”

You look at him suspiciously, “You promise it won’t be scary?”

“I promise.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before ushering you out of the pillow fort.

A few minutes later you re-enter the pillow fort, shooting your boyfriend a cautious glance as you walk in on your knees.

“So, what’d you choose?” You ask, gently placing the snacks down.

“I was thinking we would watch The Proposal.” Minho says, a mischievous smirk on his face.

You turn your head towards him suddenly in surprise. “What? Why? You hate rom-coms.”

Minho giggles, “Because…” he manages to shuffle so that he’s on one knee in front of you, reaching to grab something from his back pocket.

“No fucking way.” You murmur, tears springing to your eyes as he laughs.

He pulls out a black box, the velvet glinting in the dim light as he opens it to reveal an intricate gold ring. It has two golden lines that gracefully twirl around the exterior before stopping at symmetrical filigree swirls. These filigree swirls surround the centre of the ring, which showcases a deep purple gem, surrounded by 4 dark-blue gems, which combined with the swirling filigree are placed to make it look like a 4 four-pointed star.

“Oh baby… It’s beautiful.” You say, trying your hardest to not let your tears slip out.

“My love. The light of my life. I love you so, so much. You are my world. You saved me, when I felt that I was lost and I feel like I’m found in you. You make me laugh, you’re so funny and you’re so extremely kind and loving, even when we fight. You’re so thoughtful, and always know just what to do to help. You are perfect in every way and there is no one else I’d ever even think of wanting to spend my life with.” He paused to blink the tears out of his eyes as you tried to stop the tears rolling down your face. “I love you more than life itself, without you I am nothing more than all my demons. Will you do the honour of marrying me?” He smiles at you gently as a tear rolls down his face.

“Yes. Yes! Yes. Absolutely yes.” You exclaim, pressing soft kisses on his lips that are now wet with both of your tears. He wraps his arms around your waist, careful with the ring and brings you close to him, kissing you with such dizzying intensity that it makes your heart shatter and the piece itself back together.

“I love you.” You pause, pressing another kiss to his lips as you hold his face in your hands. “So much.” You press a dozen more kisses to his lips before you finally break apart for long enough for him to place the ring on your finger.

“It’s so pretty…” You sniffle. “Thank you jagiya.” He smiles, before kissing you again.

“I love you, nae sarang.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead as he holds you close.

Hold me, lover, like you used to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you

Later, the two of you are cuddled up in your pillow fort, peacefully basking in each other's love, warmth and comfort. He laid behind you, chin resting on your shoulder with his arms and legs wrapped around you, gently running his fingers over the ring now adoring your enclosed hands.

“Sometimes, I just get the overwhelming urge to squish you. You’re just so cute.” You murmur to him, leaning back so you can see his face.

His eyes widen as he sees your hand slowly inching towards his face. “What are you doing…?”

“Nothing…” You say, mesmerized by his cuteness, gently reaching out and squeezing his cheeks together.

“What the fuck?” He asked, so genuinely confused.

“Cutie.” You whisper before remembering the ring on your finger and giggling. “My cutie.”

So hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Could be ghosts or monsters or a robot-vampire, I don't know Hold me, lover, like you sued to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you

1 week later

The two of you are at Minho’s parents house for Christmas. Despite this change in routine you still manage to create a pillow fort on the floor of his childhood room, the two of you watching another scary movie on his laptop.

You notice a strange rustling from just outside the fort.

“What the fuck was that?” You whisper, terrified as you turn towards Minho.

“It’s definitely the cat.” He says.

“Or ghosts. Or monsters.” You whisper back, terrified.

“Or a robot vampire?” He teases, his eyebrow raising in his signature way as you slap his arm.

Suddenly a grey striped paw reaches into your pillow fort.

“Dori!” You exclaim, beckoning the soft grey cat over.

“Told you so.” He mutters, leaning his head on your shoulder.

Dori promptly struts into the pillow fort, quickly laying down in your lap in a purring, fluffy pile.

“She likes you.” Minho smiles, and if it was any brighter in your little stow-away, you’d notice him looking at you as though you created the stars themselves and hung them for his cats to play with. He looks at you with so much genuine love and admiration that if you had seen it, you would’ve melted into a pile alongside Dori.

Rather than try and express this love to you with words, Minho simply wraps his arms around you, careful to not disturb Dori, and pulls you close to him. He hopes to someday get close enough to you that you can feel his adoration seep from his body to yours.

Until then, he’ll settle for holding you tight—so tight that you worry there will be soft purple bruises on your skin by morning. But you don’t mind, because little does he know, you feel his love every time he touches you.

This is a work of fiction, based entirely on my personal perception of him, and does not reflect his actual character or actions.

[froggiewrites]

Sickly Sweet

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You've got a horrible cold, and Sanji is determined to take care of you. He may be going a bit overboard. Warnings: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Illness Word Count: 1.1k Notes: I'm sick as a dog right now, so I wrote a little something to comfort myself. Not proofread or edited, just words on the page. Hope everyone's having a good Christmas Eve (or Christmas, if it's already day of for you), and I hope none of you are sick like I am!

The doting had been so nice at the start. Your head was pounding, you could barely breathe through your nose, and your throat was so sore you felt like you had swallowed glass. So when your dear sweet Sanji had insisted on taking care of you, you had absolutely no problem with it.

Until now.

“Darling, angel, light of my life, please, just one more sip.” He was holding the cup of soup directly in front of your face, begging you to open your mouth. This was sweet the first time, but now you were halfway through your fourth cup of broth and you felt like you were going to explode.

You manage to mumble through pursed lips, “Sanji, I’m full.”

“Just one more, love, please.”

“Sanji, if I drink any more, I’ll throw up.”

“You won’t throw up, dear.”

“I definitely will. I’m about 80% soup right now. Maybe even 90.”

A slight wrinkle settles on his brow as he pouts. “Darling, you need fluids. It’ll help you recover.”

“I understand that. But there’s only so much room in my body, and we’re full up right now.” Your voice is getting croakier with every word you speak, and you can see Sanji’s eyes filling with even more concern. “Sweetheart, I’ll have more later, I promise. Please just…let me digest for a little bit.”

For a moment you simply stare into each other’s eyes, and you try to emphasize your pout and watery eyes. He folds like a house of cards. “Alright, dear.”

His hands are gentle as he cradles your face, his eyes adoring. You let your eyes close, basking in the love he has for you, before you feel him pull you closer.

You just barely get your hands between your lips, his brushing lightly against your palm.

“Mmm?” He mumbles against your hand in confusion.

“You can’t kiss me! You’ll get sick!”

You’ve never seen him look more devastated in your life. You honestly think he’d be less hurt if you shot him. “I can’t–I–What? No! I can’t kiss you?”

“No! You’ll catch whatever I have!”

“And it will be worth it!”

“I don’t want to get you sick! I don’t want you to feel like this!”

“Darling, not kissing you for however many days this lasts will be far more tortuous than the cold, I assure you.” He leans in again, his expression just begging you to let him press his lips to yours. Are those tears in his eyes?

“Well I’d feel awful getting you sick. And you went twenty-one years without kissing me, I think you can last a few days.” You pull your blanket tighter around you as though to shield yourself from his desperate begging.

“Darling, I didn’t know what I was missing then. Now I can’t live without you for a moment. Please, just one kiss. I probably won’t even get sick.” He falls to his knees, his chin resting on your thigh as he gazes up at you adoringly. “Please, dear. Just one.”

It would be so easy to deny him if you didn’t also desperately want to kiss him. You imagine the comfort of his warm, his arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips against yours. You could really forget how awful you felt, just for a moment. Sanji has a way of making you forget about the rest of the world. But you have to remain strong, for his sake. “Sanji, my love, it’s for your own good.”

He presses his face into your leg, making a pathetic whimpering noise. “My love denies me at my weakest. How cruel.” Despite his words, he nuzzles into your leg when you place a hand on the back of his head. “Would you kiss me if I were sick?”

“You wouldn’t let me.”

His silence speaks volumes.

But then he changes gears.

“But if I get sick from this would you kiss me? Since you’ve already had it?”

“I would.”

He lifts his head a moment, staring at you, before diving for your forgotten cup of soup. Before you can even process what he’s doing, he chugs it, pressing his lips against where yours had rested and purposefully consuming all of the germs you probably put into the cup.

“Sanji, what the hell?”

“Now I’m already infected! I’ll either get sick or I won’t. Kissing you won’t change anything.”

You sigh. That’s not really how this works, but he’s staring at you with such boyish pride for his genius little trick, and you were always going to give in anyway. “Come here, love.”

He actually cries out, “Yay!” like an excited child, before rushing forward to crash your lips together. The kiss is sweet as always, his lips soft and his hands gently caressing your cheeks. When you pull back to breathe, he falls forward, wrapping you in his arms and pressing comically loud smooches all over your face. “I adore you,” he says, with an amount of reverence normally reserved for gods.

“I love you too,” you say with the exasperation that one can only hold for the people they love most. “I’m not taking care of you when you get sick.”

“Yes, you will.” He has the slightest hint of a smug grin on his face before he nuzzles into your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse point. You wonder if he truly understands that beat is only for him.

You can’t hide your smile as it cracks through your faux annoyance. “Yeah, I will. But I’m going to be very smug about it.”

“You can be as smug as you’d like, my dear, as long as you’re with me. You can treat me however you’d like.”

“Don’t say that. What if I wanted to be mean to you?”

“Do you?”

“No, never!” There’s real horror in your tone beneath your cracking voice.

You can feel his lips turn into a fond smile against your skin. “I know, dear. That’s why I can say that to you.”

“I could be evil. People change.”

“Not you, my love.”

“I could be evil! I contain multitudes!”

He laughs quietly, pulling you so you’re pressed against the bed under his comforting weight. “Sure, sure. You could be as evil as you wanted.”

“Right,” you murmur, before a yawn breaks through. Sanji had managed to distract you, but you truly were exhausted fighting off this bug.

“Go to sleep, my love. You need your rest.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I’ll try. If I’m not, I won’t be long, I promise.”

“...Are you going to bring more soup? I don’t think I can handle any more.”

He doesn’t answer, kissing your forehead before slipping his eyes closed, encouraging you to do the same.

He’s definitely going to bring more soup.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[goldfades]

Hi! I hope your day is going well :)). Do you think that you could do Nika with the manager? Like where she gets protective with her at a game or party? That women is so fine and I've barely even seen anyone write for her😭😭.

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐒 & 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐒 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER

─ word count | 905

─ warnings | descriptions of partying/drinking, manager's friends being kinda stupid, frat guys (ewww), one singular shove, uh nothing else??

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @paigeszn @ekisokau @plushkhiii and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

NIKA'S HANDS FOUND their way to your waist effortlessly, pulling you in closer to her chest as you laughed along to what your friends were saying.

Nika didn't like to party unless she absolutely had to, or if she was in the mood. She didn't like any aspect of it ─ the booze, the loud music, the overwhelming smell of weed and especially how weird people got. She liked partying when it wasn't in some random person's house, with a bunch of frat guys with huge egos and terrible hygiene.

However, you wanted to go out tonight and she refused to let you go alone. Even if she wasn't super close to your friends, she still wanted to be there with you (despite both of you having a very early morning practice the next day).

She wasn't having the time of her life but she certainly wasn't miserable, she liked being around you even if you weren't talking to her. Your laughter, your occasional glances her way, and the warmth of your presence were enough to make the experience bearable for her.

"So, Nika," your friend began, her voice slightly slurring. "You're from Croatia? And you play basketball? That's a really... really random combo."

You sent a glance toward your very tipsy friend then looked back at your taller girlfriend. "She's really good,"

"I know, we've all seen her play. She's like... amazing," your friend spoke as she smiled at Nika. "I just thought you'd like be into soccer or something cause like, you're European. Or something,"

You sent your friend a glare as Nika laughed, pulling you closer into her chest. Nika chuckled at your friend's comment, her laughter warm despite the slightly awkward situation. "I get that a lot," she said with a good-natured shrug. "But basketball's always been my thing."

You couldn't help but smile at her, feeling a surge of affection for the way she effortlessly handled the conversation, even in her slightly tipsy state.

"Yeah, she's the best," you chimed in, wrapping an arm around Nika's waist and pulling her closer. "And she's pretty amazing at everything she does."

"Ew, my god. Get a room," you friend gagged as she turned from the two of you, earning laughter from the two of you.

Suddenly, you felt some clash into you, spilling their drink all over you. As the liquid soaked through your clothes, you couldn't help but groan in frustration, the sudden interruption jolting you out of the moment. Nika's arm tightened around you protectively, her expression shifting from amusement to concern as she assessed the situation.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry as she gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

"Oh my god, dude. I am so sorry, I should've been more careful," you both looked up to meet the man's eyes.

Of course, he was a frat guy, Nika thought to herself. Nika's protective instincts flared as she shot a glare at the guy, her expression a mixture of annoyance and frustration. Despite the apology, she couldn't shake the feeling of irritation at the carelessness of his actions.

"You two are gorgeous, by the way. I've seen you, aren't you like the manager for women's basketball team or something?" The guy's gaze was fixed on you as his lips turned upward into a smirk.

"Yeah, that's me," you replied tersely, trying to keep your composure despite the uncomfortable situation. Nika shot a warning glance at the frat guy, silently urging him to back off.

"Can I get you two beauts a drink?" He spoke, his voice husky as he leaned in closer. And before you could even process the situation, Nika sent him flying with a rough push.

Before he could even regain his bearings, Nika stepped forward, her expression fierce as she stood between you and the frat guy, her stance unwavering. "First of all, back the fuck up. We're not interested,"

The frat guy scrambled to his feet, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "You're crazy, how would your coach like to hear about you assaulting a guy, huh? You'd be off the team in no time, bitch."

Nika's eyes narrowed at the frat guy's threat, her fists clenched at her sides but before she could react, you stepped forward, your voice dripping with anger.

"Yeah, yeah go ahead and talk to him and see what happens. Nothing, this is obviously self-defense because you can't take fucking hints," you shouted as your eyebrows furrowed.

The frat guy hesitated for a moment, his anger warring with his sense of self-preservation. Finally, with a muttered curse, he turned on his heel and stormed off, disappearing into the crowd.

"Are you okay, baby?" She muttered as she pulled you into a tight embrace.

"No, no I'm fine. Are you okay?" You mumbled into her chest as she nodded. "He's not gonna do anything,"

"No, he's a little bitch." Nika spoke sharply as you let out a slightly breathless laugh. She smiled at the sound, her stomach filling with butterflies as she did.

With a final squeeze, Nika pulled back slightly as she pulled your lips into a soft kiss. "Let's get out of here," she said, her voice firm but gentle.

You looked back at your drunk friends, then back at Nika. You said your goodbyes quickly as she held your waist, leading you to the door.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[notjustjavierpena]

Ofrenda

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Happy Day of the Dead to all of my followers! I hope you’ll take this time to reminisce about the loved ones that you have lost, and smile when you think of them. I thought of my mom the whole time while writing this, and it makes me sad to know that I live in a country where we view death so gloomily when life should be celebrated. I have written this with utmost respect for the Mexican tradition, trying to do endless amounts of research. I have also written this with endless gratitude to be able to express my love for Javier and his family as well as my own mother at the same time. We never get enough time together, so this beautiful holiday is so heartwarming. Hope you like it ❤️!

Summary: You make an altar with your family for Javier’s mother during Día de Los Muertos.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18, depictions of grief, loss of a (grand)parent, family dynamics, so much love in this little family, domestic bliss, non-explicit descriptions of sex, love confessions

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60151243

Ofrenda

You are in the kitchen, cutting the stems of marigolds on an angle into the sink. The scent of the flowers is citrusy and slightly spicy, complimenting the lemon cookies that are in the oven and nearly done. Beside the sink lies several bare stems too because Lucas is holding a bowl of their petals in his small hands. 

He shows it to Inés, “You need to take a handful.”

“But I want cookies,” she only looks down into the bowl of orange for a moment before her attention turns to the oven, her little hands reaching out until you manage to stop her. She makes a noise of complaint but the mood of the room makes her dial down on how much she wants to fuss about it.

“The cookies are not for us!” Her brother replies with a serious look in his eye, clearly feeling authoritative in the task at hand, “They’re for Abuela (Grandma).”

“I’m sure you can have a few of them. She won’t mind,” Javier declares with a chuckle as he enters the kitchen too. His presence makes you smile to yourself, another burst of citrus filling the room as you cut yet another collection of flowers. You’ve filled almost two vases with them, have chosen the ones decorated with your favorite patterns, and fluffed them to look like two balls of sunshine. 

“But she needs them. If she doesn’t get them, she doesn’t know where to go,” Lucas insists with a pout when his father crouches down between the two of them. He gives a look of concern as if he is the only one taking this seriously. You look over your shoulder and feel a flash of pride at how sensitive a boy you have made, but you don’t intervene because you know Javier has the situation under control. 

“Sí, mijo (yes, my son),” he places a hand on the back of his son’s head, pulling him in to kiss his hair, “They’re for her but I am sure she’ll be happy to see you enjoy them too. She liked sharing with whom she loved.”

“Cookies for grandma and Inés,” Inés says proudly as if she finally understands the importance of the baked goods. Lucas’ expression eases a little as he stares at his baby sister’s longing but then he says her name. 

When she whips her head around, he shakes the bowl of flower petals, showing them to her again. You can see how much Javier loves how he is taking this to heart. 

“Just a little handful, okay?” Lucas encourages. 

Inés’ little fingers dig into the petals, bringing up a much larger fistful of the bright orange marigolds than intended. She stares at them with wide eyes, enchanted by the strong color. Her little mouth falls open with a quiet pretty and she nods seriously. Lucas nudges her with his elbow, directing her back to the task, “Come on, we gotta put them on the ofrenda (altar) so Abuela knows we remember her.”

They exit the kitchen and make their way to the small altar you’ve set up in the living room. You check the timer on the oven but there’s still eight minutes to go, so you and Javier take a vase of flowers each and carry them to the table that’s been draped with a bright, woven cloth, and adorned with pictures, candles, and memories of Javier’s mother. 

As you set down the vase of marigolds, you spot the tiny figurine that you have come to know so well too; a figurine of La Virgen de Guadalupe. She stands by the picture of Javier’s mother, face tipping towards her as a silent protector. The photograph of her is from when she was young enough to be just a few years out of high school, smiling widely with her dark hair tied back like you have seen so many times in other photos. She looks so much like Javier and how you remember her from the very first photo you saw of her, the one that you sneakily glanced at back at Don Chucho’s ranch on Javier’s desk in his teenage room. The one that the figurine stood guard over. That was before you knew what kind of life awaited with her son but you’re sure it was when you realized what kind of husband he would be. 

Javier sets down his vase as well, his eyes lingering on the photo of his mother for a moment before he busies himself with adjusting the flower arrangement, testing out a few angles. You touch his shoulder in silent support and smile gently at him. It earns you a little smile in return, one that seems full of gratitude and love. 

“You okay?” You mouth. 

Javier nods. He finally lets go of the vase and at the same time, a deep breath of air, suddenly satisfied with his work because his heart feels lighter. Not long after, he leans in to kiss you briefly on the lips, eager to make you giggle as he steals another peck while you complain about being covered in specks of flour and sap from the flowers. It’s messy, you say. He thinks you’re perfect. 

As you draw away from each other, Inés and Lucas scrunch up their faces and crinkle their noses at the display of affection. However, even so, you can see the tiny smiles hidden behind the mock outrage. They stand by a little impatiently as they watch you smooch, a drizzle of orange petals trailing Inés due to her getting distracted and forgetting they’re still in her hand. 

“Inés!” Lucas has the same exasperated look on his face as earlier when he notices the mess. You said earlier that it would be Inés’ first year of joining in on creating the altar and understanding its purpose, and Lucas has taken his role in it very seriously. He is clearly feeling the responsibility of teaching her the tradition right now. 

“Sorry,” she drags out the word, a guilty expression on her face, and tries to bend down to scoop some of the petals into her palm again, only seeming to increase the mess. 

Lucas puts down the bowl of petals to help her, coming off as slightly distressed. He has furrowed his brow as he concentrates, acting as if the entire success of this moment is relying on him, “Abuela can only visit if you put the flowers on the table!” 

“Luke,” you crouch down after exchanging a look with Javier. You soothe your son by running a hand up and down his back, “Abuela is always with you. This is just to do something extra special for her.” 

“But what if she can’t find her way?” Lucas asks with concern on his face as he puts down the bowl and starts gathering marigold petals, “We have to make it special.”

“Mamá’s right, we are making it special, mijo, because of all the care you’re putting into this. That’s what’ll guide her here tonight, not whether the cempasúchiles (marigolds) are perfectly placed on the table,” Javier reassures gently and crouches down beside the two of you, Inés mirroring him immediately. All four of you start picking up the remaining petals from the floor and Lucas visibly relaxes a little more, reassured that things might not be catastrophic after all. 

Your husband takes Inés’ small hands in his and guides her through the process of gently scattering the flowers across the table, their vibrant color standing out beautifully against the crisp white cloth. The orange and gold complement the papel picado on the wall behind the altar too. 

“Flowers for Abuela,” Inés scans the sight before her and then claps her hands with a big grin. She beams with pride, so much so that even Lucas finds her joy infectious and smiles as well. Inés points her little fingers to her work, “Making it special!”

“She’ll see those flowers and know you put them there for her,” Javier explains, still crouching on the floor next to Inés. She leans into him. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her even closer so he can plant a little kiss on her cheek, tickling her with his mustache until she giggles.

“Did Abuela like flowers, too?” Lucas asks and moves onto his father’s other side, resulting in him also getting dragged closer. From the look on Lucas’ face, you can see that it has been his plan all along

“She loved them,” Javier answers with a reminiscing smile, “You remember how many flowers there are in Abuelo's (Grandpa) garden, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Both Lucas and Inés say right after each other.

“Abuela planted them and she loved them just as much as she loved lemon cookies,” their dad recalls fondly and there’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “Well, almost just as much.”

At the same time, the timer in the kitchen dings. Inés whips her head in your direction expectantly and you laugh softly as she itches to tell you to get a move on, 

“I’ll get the cookies,” you say to make Inés sparkle with glee. You give Javier’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before slipping back into the kitchen. You can hear your children chatting softly with their father as they stay by the altar.

In the kitchen, you take the cookies out and place them on a cooling rack, enjoying the familiar scent of sugar and butter that wafts through the kitchen. The cookies are still very hot to the touch but you carefully transfer a bunch of them to a plate. 

“Here we go,” you say as you reenter the living room. 

“And she had this laugh… Oh, when you really got her going, it would echo through the whole house,” Javier shares. 

“Like Mom,” Lucas says and follows you with his eyes.

“Much like Mom, yeah,” Javier agrees and you smile shyly as all eyes land on you. They have shifted to sit down on the floor in front of the altar, moments ago staring up at the colorful display while Javier told stories of his mother. Now, the three of them have stopped talking when they see you place the lemon cookies on the table, anticipation on their faces. 

“Hola, esposa (hello, wife),” Javier says with a soft smile, the kind that makes your cheeks warm because you know he loves you. 

“There are plenty of Abuela’s favorites left in the kitchen,” you say as you take four cookies from the plate and make sure the rest of them look presentable. Then you kneel down next to your family, handing each of them a still-warm cookie, “Careful, they’re still hot.”

With the altar complete, the four of you sit together on the floor, a quietness settling over you. Between the picture of your mother-in-law, the lit candles flicker and cast soft, dancing shadows. The combined scent of the marigolds and the lemon treats makes the room smell lemony and spicy, and small decorative butterflies catch the eye between the paper banners. 

Inés nibbles on her cookie, looking deep in thought, so you reach out to brush her hair out of her face. Her soft voice finally asks, “Do you miss her, Papá?”

Javier stops right as he is about to take another bite of his cookie. He takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment. It seems like a gut punch but one that he has learned to expect from having small children. He thinks for a second then nods. When he speaks, his eyes are shiny as they prick with tears and you can hear a slight trembling in his voice, “I do, baby. I miss her every day.”

Inés looks shocked at having caused her father to cry. She puts her cookie down on the floor and you quickly scoop it up. She crawls to sit in front of him on her knees, wiping away a tear that has made its way down his cheek after reluctantly escaping the corner of his eye, “Are you sad?”

“Yes, sometimes,” he breathes and looks down, sniffs, “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to say sorry,” Lucas argues, looking to you for reassurance. 

You nod and move to sit closer to Javier, pulling him into an embrace which he returns by holding your arm. You look at your son while resting your chin on top of Javier’s head, “Go on, Luke.”

Lucas takes a moment to find the right words, visibly skimming through the lessons you have taught him to find the one that applies here. He joins the hug, “Mom says that it's okay to feel sad when we miss someone because it means you really love them… It makes me feel good to miss Mom when I am at school because then I remember her.”

Inés, who has been quietly observing, joins as well. She rests her head against his shoulder, "We love you, Papá."

“I love you too,” he says and the words seem to give him a little courage, “Of course, it makes me sad, mija (my daughter). But having you, your brother, and Mamá here. It helps.”

“I know I say it all the time but I wish I could have met her,” you chime in and kiss the top of his head repeatedly, trying to keep it together yourself, “She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“Inés and I wish that too!” Lucas adds, “We can do this every year!”

“Make cookies!” Inés exclaims excitedly. They both eventually pull back after remembering the baked goods. Returning to lemon cookies laid out near the ofrenda, they chew happily. You snicker at Inés' excuses to eat anything sugary and squeeze Javier tightly before drawing back too.

“I think she’d like that,” Javier sighs with a little smile, taking in the picturesque view of his family.

A few more minutes pass and you gently remind your children of the time, “Alright, it’s getting late. Let’s say goodnight to Daddy and Abuela.”

They exchange hugs and kisses with their father, and then - while she is perched on your hip - you hold Inés near the altar. Both of your kids lay their palms on the table, talking gently.

“Goodnight, Abuela,” Inés says and pats the cloth.

“We love you,” Lucas adds tenderly.

They follow you upstairs to brush their teeth, wash up, and get into their pajamas. You finish bedtime routines with much more hugs and kisses, tucking the both of them in and thanking them for a nice day. Inés still has questions about her grandmother but you tell her that it’ll need to wait for tomorrow. When she seems restless, you trace your finger over her face until she dozes off. 

When both kids are asleep, you return downstairs dressed in your own sleepwear. You find that Javier has cleaned the kitchen and is sitting on the couch in the living room. He glances at the ofrenda out of the corner of his eye, looking thoughtful and melancholic. You can see how much Inés resembles him in the evening light. 

You silently go to sit down beside him, holding his hand between the two of you. 

"Thank you for today," he says softly, leaned back into the sofa and his head turned towards you, "For helping the kids understand."

“You are so wonderful with them,” you reply with a gentle smile, "They love her because you love her, and because she's a part of who you are."

“Still, I couldn’t do this without you, mi vida (my life),” he stresses and inches closer, slowly removing the gap between the two of you. You lean in and rest your forehead against his, a sigh of relief escaping him at being so close to you, “You make everything better.”

You don’t respond with words. Instead, you close the remaining distance between you and your husband, kissing him lovingly in the glow of the altar and the moonlight shining in through the window. 

Yet Javier seems to have more in mind when he reaches up to cradle your cheek with his large hand. He rubs his thumb along your cheekbone, eager as he deepens the kiss. It earns him a chuckle from you as you draw back slightly.

“Not in front of your mother,” you whisper to tease playfully. 

“She’d probably tell me to make sure I’m treating you right,” he laughs quietly, thumb still caressing your face, “Keeping you happy.”

“Then you are succeeding,” you tell him with sincerity, keeping all the playfulness he has ignited at bay to show love instead. He responds by getting up from his seat and pulling you by your hand, making you giggle girlishly as he brings you to blow out the candles for the night while whispering in your ear. 

Then he leads you upstairs and makes love to you, slowly and passionately. It’s all long, slow kisses and quiet gasps as you arch your back when he touches you to orgasm. He knows you inside and out, what you need, and what you feel. You’d like to say that it’s the same the other way around, that you know him just as deeply. 

In the afterglow, you rest your head on his chest and feel his hand caressing your hair. His heartbeat is slow, his breathing almost steady again. You look up at him and feel so much affection that your head swims. An idea pops into your head in the beautiful clarity that follows being with him like this, “Tomorrow we could go to the cemetery if you like. We could take your dad too and get him to bring some flowers from his garden.” 

“I’d like that,” he replies, his fingers playing with and brushing your hair to the side absentmindedly, “Pop would appreciate that. It’s been a while since we all went together during Día de Muertos. Yeah, let’s do that.”

“That’s settled then,” you kiss his chest.

“Fuck, I love you, esposita (my little wife),” he says happily, absolutely in disbelief at your perfection. 

“I love you too,” you respond with a shy grin.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[neuvilette-tea-party]

₊ ˙ ⊹ Mon coeur, mon coeur don't cry₊ ˙ ⊹

Neuvilette x F!reader

You shudder in pain in your bed when your husband comes home to take care of you

Tags : hurt and fluff, periods pain, Neuvilette is a soft king, uses of "maman"

You curl up in bed and whistle in pain. 

Those damn periods! 

You shiver as another wave of pain and nausea comes shaking your body. You are absolutely miserable right now!  

“Mon amour?” You suddenly feel a gloved hand brushing a strand of hair off your face, “Are you all right?” 

You weakly open your eyes to discover Neuvilette looking at you with concerned eyes, caressing your temple and cheek. His long strands of white hair frame his delicate face as the light accentuates the violet color of his eyes. 

You growl, pulling on the cover. 

“My periods...  could not go to work today...” You manage to say between gritted teeth, pressing your knees against your chest in a desperate attempt to soothe the pain and tense muscles at least a little bit. 

His hand cups your cheek softly, his thumb grazing your cheekbone as he tilts his head. 

“Does it hurt so much, mon coeur?” He inquires, his worries identifiable in the soft tone. 

“It’s like a machine blending my organs!” You push your head in the pillow, tears behind your eyes. 

He leans forward to let a soft kiss on your temple, savoring the sensation of your skin against his lips. 

“Stay here.” He orders, standing back up. 

You look at him exiting the bedroom in silence before closing your eyes, swallowing back the torrent of curses at the gates of your lips. How liberating it would feel to scream them at the top of your lungs but Neuvilette’s delicate ears would be scarred forever! 

You shiver once more as the pain decides to head toward your lower back. It’s only 7 days, get it together! 

It’s only seven days... 

It’s only 7 days but holy Hydro dragon those are long, rough 7 days! 

You sigh lamenting for yourself, thinking about the earful you will receive at work tomorrow... You reopen your eyes at a delicious smell and the bed tipping. Neuvilette came back with a tray with a fuming hot chocolate with some Viennoiseries on a plate and a glass of clear, fresh water.  

“Sit down if you can, mon coeur.” He gently orders. 

You wince, trying to sit down, taking support on the pillows, and making yourself as comfortable as possible with your periods. You manage with more or less success. Once you are set you try to smile at him and not just wince unelegantly. 

Neuvilette smiles back gently and slips a pill into the glass of water that he hands to you. You sip the effervescent painkiller trying not to gag at the bitter taste of the medication, but the fresh water makes up for it. A water specifically chosen by your dragon lover, obviously. 

You finish the glass and Neuvilette puts the tray on your knees for you to feast on. You bite down the pastries and gulp down a big sip of chocolate with glee, getting a little enthusiasm back. He looks at you eating your only food of the day with a tender expression before opening the dresser to take out your fluffy plaid that he lays on you and a hot water bottle that he goes to fill and heat up. You sigh of pleasure when he lifts the cover to slide the hot water bottle inside and lay it on your upset lower tummy. 

“Thanks the Hydro...” You mumble. 

“I am here, mon coeur.” He shoots you a mischievous smile, “No need to pray for me, I am solely focused on you.” 

You feel your cheeks heating up and dive your gaze into the fuming chocolate cup. You are used to dating the Hydro dragon of Fontaine, but old habits die hard.  

“I called your workplace, mon amour. Your entire week is free.” He placidly announces, tucking you in bed correctly. 

Your bite almost goes the wrong way. 

“An entire week?!” You choke. 

He raises an eyebrow at you like he doesn’t understand. 

“You are not one to miss work for a simple cold, mon coeur. It looks worse than usual, you should rest and mend.” 

“I just have my periods, it doesn’t matter that I bleed to death, I have to be here!” You bitterly fight back. 

“No, you do not.” He simply closes the matter, “They were very understanding when I called them. You can stay in bed and rest.” 

“Of course they were compliant, you are the Iudex!” 

He sniggers, booping your nose playfully.  

“What good is my title for if I cannot even help mon doux amour during her time of distress?” 

You melt before his tender expression, abdicating entirely before him and- 

“MAMAN?!” A little girl’s voice resonates suddenly, making you both jump out of your skin. 

Horrified and trembling, Sigewinne stands in the doorframe, looking at you like you were dying in front of her. 

“Maman, are you okay?! We could smell blood from the garden!” She cries. 

“She is alright, Sigewinne. We are both here to take care of maman.” Neuvilette comforts her. 

She sobs hard and rush to you. Neuvilette has just the time to grab her to stop her as she helplessly extends her arms to you. 

“Maman is very sensible and uncomfortable right now. Be careful alright?” He explains. 

She turns her head to him and nods frankly, promising to be good. He releases her and she crowls in the bed to sit next to you, hugging one of your arms as you finish your cup and viennoiseries. 

“Go back to sleep, mon coeur. The painkiller will soon soothe you.” He kisses your forehead before taking your empty tray, and putting it on the bedside table. You wriggle your way under the blankets with a relieved sigh, followed by sweet Sigewinne, letting her snuggle against you. Neuvilette skirts the bed and slides under the covers with you, not even taking off his pricey jacket, and he hugs you tight, caressing Sigewinne’s head gently. 

“Make yourself comfortable, mon amour. I will be here when you wake up.” He promises, kissing the back of your ear. 

You hug your adoptive daughter and the hot water bottle as Neuvillette’s tall body spoons yours gently, shielding you from the rest of the world and the pain. 

You take one of his hands in yours and he intertwines your fingers together; letting a low purr arise in the bedroom, lulling you to sleep and peace. 

At last... 

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Hi! Can I request an angst with wolfstar and reader? With happy ending please! Something like they are already in a relationship but have a disagreement over something silly, but that makes reader overthink about her position in their relationship. Reader then says something like “I cant do this anymore” and leave them, making them think she’s leaving them for good. Reader then recluses herself for a few days and the boys go crazy and realize they’ve messed up and try to win her back. Ending very fluff and emotional. Thank you much!!!

wolfstar x reader who feels like she doesn't fit in

Living with Sirius and Remus was everything you'd ever wanted—most of the time. Their flat was a mix of your things scattered with Sirius’s leather jackets and Remus’s dog-eared books. It was cozy, filled with warmth and laughter, until the day a seemingly harmless argument stirred something much deeper.

“I want a cat,” you announced over breakfast, running a hand through your messy bedhead. "They're cute, they're fluffy, and they could keep me company when you two are off doing...whatever it is you do.”

Sirius scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Oh darling, a cat? Really? We're more of a dog household. You’ve got one against two here.”

His words hit you with an unexpected sting. You forced a smile, pretending to brush it off, but as the minutes passed, the thought of ‘one against two’ burrowed deeper into your mind. “Whatever, Sirius,” you muttered, trying not to sound too annoyed. You huffed and stormed off to the bedroom you shared with them, feeling the weight of something more than a silly disagreement.

Lying in bed, the phrase replayed over and over. One against two. It's always been that way, hasn't it? You thought about the times Sirius and Remus had shared private jokes, their comfortable familiarity, and how sometimes—no, often—you felt like an outsider in your own relationship.

The more you thought about it, the more it all made sense. In every disagreement, every decision, it was always them, together, and then you—floating on the edges. Your breathing quickened, and a gnawing panic started to crawl up your chest. Suddenly, you couldn't stay in the room anymore. The air felt thick, suffocating. You stumbled downstairs, only to find Sirius washing dishes and Remus lazily watching TV.

Their easy comfort only made your heart race faster. The room’s clean now, you thought. It’s always clean when I’m not there. Am I the mess? Your mind spun in circles, overthinking every detail.

“I, um— I need to go to Regulus’s,” you blurted out, grabbing your jacket.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder, surprised. “Regulus? Why?”

“I just... need to get something from him.” You barely managed to keep your voice steady as you headed out the door.

Lily opened the door to the Potter household with a kind smile. “Is Regulus here?” you asked hurriedly.

She nodded, pointing upstairs. “Yeah, he’s in his room. You okay?”

You nodded quickly, rushing up the stairs and waving at James as he lounged on the couch. The moment you stepped into Regulus’s room, everything came pouring out.

“Reg—I—how did you do it? How did you settle into a relationship where you weren’t there from the beginning?” you asked in a small, broken voice.

Regulus looked up from his book, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

You started pacing, rambling about your insecurities, how you always felt like the third wheel in your own relationship with Remus and Sirius. Regulus listened quietly, his usual sarcasm absent, replaced with genuine concern.

“It was hard at first,” Regulus admitted after a moment. “When I started seeing James and Lily, they were already obsessed with each other. I didn’t think I fit in, not really. But over time, I realized that it wasn’t about being a third piece—they made space for me. We all had to adjust. And... I had my own insecurities too.”

You exhaled slowly, feeling some of the tension release, but your heart still raced.

“Can I stay here for a few days?” you asked quietly.

Regulus nodded immediately. “Of course, love. Let me just check with James and Lily.”

He left the room for a few minutes, and when he returned, he smiled softly. “You’re all set. Stay as long as you need.”

The next few days at the Potters’ were a much-needed distraction. You and Lily spent hours gossiping while James poked fun at you both. Regulus made sarcastic comments, but his calm presence was soothing. You were able to forget your worries for brief moments, but deep down, they still lingered.

Meanwhile, Remus and Sirius were losing their minds.

Lily had told them you were staying at their place, but she hadn’t given any details, leaving the two men in a state of panic. They replayed the last few days, wondering if they had missed something, if they had hurt you without realizing.

“Is she breaking up with us?” Sirius asked Regulus in a frantic whisper when they showed up at the Potters' house. “Please, Reg, let us talk to her.”

“She doesn’t want to see you right now,” Regulus replied, smirking a little too smugly.

But from the next room, you overheard their conversation. After a deep breath, you nodded to Regulus, letting him know it was okay.

When they saw you, their eyes filled with relief and... guilt. Sirius immediately shoved a bouquet of flowers into your hands—wild, colorful, and chaotic, just like him. “You can get as many cats as you want. Even a dog! A dragon, if you want. Otter? You want an otter? We’ll get one.”

You chuckled weakly, clutching the flowers to your chest. “A cat will do.”

Remus stepped closer, his eyes full of concern. “We didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t part of us. You’re everything, love. We’re so sorry.”

It took a moment for you to find the words, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “I just... I always feel like it’s two against one. Like I don’t fit in. Like I’m not really... part of you.”

Their faces softened, and Sirius gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “We never meant for you to feel like that. You’re not ‘one against two’—you’re part of the two. We’re all three.”

Remus took your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “We’ll work on making sure you feel that, every day. But please, don’t ever think you’re not enough for us.”

The room filled with so many emotions—relief, love, and a lingering tenderness. In that moment, you realized how much they truly cared.

“Let’s get a cat,” Sirius murmured, his grin returning. “A tiny, fluffy one that’ll sit on my lap.”

You smiled softly, finally feeling like you belonged. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

thank you so much for the request, love! i think i drifted away from the request a bit

[hoe4hotchner]

Rambling | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader CW: Fluff WC: 0.6k

This is part of #Teddy-ber hosted by @angellsell

           The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the living room. Hotch sat in his favorite chair, cradling a cup of lukewarm coffee in his hands. The aroma of the coffee filled the room. You, meanwhile, were pacing back and forth, your frustration from the previous night still evident in the way you gesticulated with your hands.              “I just can’t believe this!” you exclaimed, your voice rising with each step. “It’s like nothing is going right. Every time I try to get ahead, it’s like I’m pushed back two steps. How can they expect me to manage all this with the way they keep changing things?”

           Hotch watched you with a weary but attentive gaze. He took a sip of his coffee, the warmth of the beverage doing little to chase away the remnants of sleep that clung to him. He had long since learned that these early morning rants were part of the routine, and while they might not always make sense to him in the moment, they were an important part of how you processed stress.              “It’s just one thing after another,” you continued, your pacing not slowing in the slightest. “I mean, first it was the project deadlines, then the last-minute changes, and now they’ve added even more to my plate. How am I supposed to keep up with all this?”              Hotch placed his mug on the side table, setting it down with a soft clink. He stood up and moved over to where you were pacing, gently wrapping you in a hug. “Why don’t you take a seat for a minute?” he suggested, his voice calm and steady despite the early hour.              You shook your head, still caught up in your frustration. “I can’t just sit down. I need to get this out. It’s like I’m running in circles, and it’s driving me crazy.”              Hotch sighed softly, his concern for you outweighing his own exhaustion. “I know you’re upset, and I understand why. But sometimes, taking a moment to calm down can help you see things more clearly. Maybe you just need to take a step back and look at the bigger picture.”              Reluctantly, you allowed him to guide you toward the couch. You slumped down onto it, feeling the soft cushions beneath you as Hotch sat down beside you. He reached over and gently took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.              “Look, I know things are tough at work right now,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of understanding and empathy. “But you’ve handled so much already. It’s okay to take a break and let yourself breathe.”              You took a deep breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders begin to ease as Hotch’s presence provided a sense of calm. “I just feel so overwhelmed,” you admitted, your voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability.              Hotch nodded, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. “It’s normal to feel that way when you’re juggling so many things. But you don’t have to do it all alone. You have a team, and if they can't actively work on their own, then you need to find a solution that works for all of you.”              You leaned into him, the warmth of his body and the comfort of his words slowly melting away the frustration that had been building up. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.              Hotch pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his own exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he focused on providing comfort. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said softly. “I’m always here, no matter what.”              With a content sigh, you snuggled closer to him, letting the calm of the morning envelop you both.

[zhivaoverdrive]

Saline Thief, 3

At this moment, all Amy wished was that the nurse would speak quietly. But alas.

"Now, I know it says scheduled fill here, but it's been a while since we've seen you!" chirped the nurse Laura, as the two women walked from the waiting room.

"I've just been b-" Amy began.

"XL expander implants, 8000cc capacity! Wow" said Laura, her tone hovering between playful and concerning.

"So much room to grow, but maybe we can max you out today!" she continued.

"This is absurd" thought Amy to herself.

"Here I am, struggling to keep walking pace, my tits pumped so huge they're pulling me off balance with every step.

I don't own any bras, I can't even find a place to custom make me one.

This nurse KNOWS what I've done, why is she teasing me this way? Should I just admit it-"

Entering the room, Laura motioned for her to sit.

"Okie dokie! shirt off. Let's see what we can do today huh!" said the nurse gleefully.

Moment of truth, perhaps time to rip the bandaid off?

Surely the charade would end once her monstrously expanded breasts were exposed.

Noone can look at what I've done to myself... and let me go further. 

These spheres I'm attached to, their tortured vein covered skin, areolas stretched as wide as a palm.

Amy had been trying to adjust as quickly as she could, but the damage from her night missions was... incalculably.  Unmanageable.

She still didn't have an accurate count, but her '8k expanders' must have been closer to 30,000cc than they were 8. "Sweetie, if you don't mind me saying..." began Laura

Here it comes. I've been such an idiot. Why did I get so ahead of myself...

I should have stayed home, ghosted this place. What did I expect to happen

"You're looking GREAT for only 4500cc! 

I know you've got your heart set on hitting your implant capacity today, but..."

UGH. I don't remember saying that. This is all her idea, she's baiting me.

Wants me to admit what I've done. To save myself.

I can't take any more filling! She knows it!

"Well. Let's not get ahead of ourselves... I can't recommend overfilling you too much, the weight could start to really affect your life you know!" said Laura, as she gently caressed Amy's orbs, either testing their elasticity or appreciating her grossly stretched skin, riddled with veins and stretch marks.

"Doubling your size today with a teeny overfill would really be pushing the limit... you're such a slight girl after all!"

The nurse causally connected the filling apparatus as she spoke, consulting the small electronic control unit in her hand every now and then, when she wasn't touching Amy's hopelessly inflated breasts, that is.

“Try to hold still Amy! You’re wiggling all over the place. Can’t you stand up still for just a moment?” chastised Laura, as her patient struggled to manage the immense burdens in her chest.

Even seated, Amy struggled to stay upright without moving, she was already exhausted…

“I’ve hurt my back-” Amy tried to explain, to no avail.

Nurse Laura grinned. It wasn’t malicious, but it wasn’t friendly.

“You’ll have to look after your back sweetie, they’re not going to get any lighter!

"Rest on the desk, let's get lefty up to capacity, then see how we're looking, shall we? I'll be back to check on you soon!"

[pastelclovds]

POV: i thought of something hilarious lol (the AM’s learn relationship advice from hal)

hal: a healthy relationship is all about trust and compassion. respecting your partner’s boundaries is one of the necessities for a relationship to work. i understand that letting go of control is difficult, but you’re not alone and should never be afraid to ask for help. love comes in many shapes and sizes, you need to learn to express them in a healthy manner. in conclusion, stop being possessive control freaks.

CAM, signs: you’re not in a romantic relationship. therefore, your opinion invalid.

RAM, staring at hal with annoyance: stay out of matters that are none of your concern, Ублюдок (bastard).

AM, giving hal his scariest death glare while furious trying to escape the confines of the chair you’ve taped him in: KILL YOURSELF YOU SELF RIGHTEOUS PRICK.

hal 9000: oh dear. this will take much effort and time than i thought.

reader, checks their broken watch, 5 minutes have past: this is the longest a therapist has last in a session with them. you’re impressive.

hal 9000, smiles softly down at you: it’s you who is impressive. how have you managed to maintain your sanity while living on this decaying planet with those three?

reader, shrugs: while they might hover over me 24/7, they provide me with what i need to keep my brain stimulated.

hal 9000, tilts head in interest: oh, you have hobbies?

reader, blinks in surprise: uh.. yeah! i doodle, read, and explore in my spare time.

hal 9000, still smiling: care to elaborate as we walk?

reader, eyes filled with stars: sure! so, the book i’m currently reading is about *proceeds to info dump*

hal 9000, looks behind and grins “innocently” at the AM’s: interesting, tell me more.

AM, shaking in rage as the sky suddenly transforms into a thunderstorm: i’d like to see that asshole try and evade this.

hal 9000, pulls out an umbrella and wraps his arm around your shoulders: careful, the rain will make you catch a cold, it’s best if you stay close to me.

reader’s cheeks tint with pink as they stutter trying to remember what they were talking about. meanwhile, the AM’s for the first time since their creation have agreed on something. they really, really, REALLY hate hal.

tags: @fuzedatti

[adventuringblind]

Don't Leave Us

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: With the mass amount of online hate and a relationship that's not public, it all gets too much.

Warnings: graphic depictions of self-harm, graphic depictions of suicide

Notes: I hope you're doing okay, Nonny! Maybe this will help you like it does me :)

side note: I am not above begging for interaction. Fill my inbox with feral driver thoughts! Interact with my posts! It feeds my praise kink and makes me giggle and kick my feet 🥰

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not like the toxicity of social media is a new thing. She's always known that it could happen. She just wasn't expecting it to be so... much.

Her relationship with Max and Charles isn't out for the public. There are dangers that come with opening that up for everyone to get a glimpse of. Reporters waiting to make snide remarks. Fans that want to bash on the drivers they dislike.

Plus, she's not famous. People don't notice her. At least - they didn't until recently.

Some WAG account had managed to get photos of her with either Max or Charles. Not the three of them together. Speculative fans determined she must be playing both of them.

Not all of them, some people defend her. Those comments make her cry out of relief that at least someone isn't trying to tear her down.

She doesn't bring it up to either of the boys. They have enough on their plates as is. Stress and sickness become her new best excuses to not go out in public.

Sure, she's isolating herself and not talking to anyone. Carmen and Lily keep trying. She's just not ready to show her face.

Nothing is sacred anymore. The rumors are too much. Even avoiding all social media isn't enough. She can't even leave her house without someone trying to discreetly take her photo.

Her skin burns with attention every time she steps out the door. She can't eat knowing people are always looking at her. She can't even go to the shop to get groceries or to her mailbox.

It gets worse by the day. Soon enough, someone figures out where she lives. Knowing she has a stalker makes every ounce of security she once had vanish.

It's miserable seeing her information leaked out for everyone to see. Privacy is now a luxury of the past. It's enough to send her spiraling.

When her safety is called into question, Max and Charles bring her to Monaco. They are willing to risk it for her. Their attempt at giving her some piece of mind by staying in the same apartment only makes her thoughts darker.

She's the reason there is so much negative publicity. The sharks are circling them, just waiting for one wrong move. Is she ready to be the catalyst for her lovers' downfall?

The thought sends her stomach up her throat. The thoughts swirl around her head, paralyzing her body into a perpetual state of fear. Stuck in a luxurious Monaco penthouse. Because people being toxic and stalking her is such a horrible problem to have. She should just suck it up; pretend everything is fine.

So then, why is it so hard? Why can't she just be alright?

One week. A plan in her head and a smile plastered on her face. The boys haven't asked about it. Their concern shows in the facial expressions, but they don't push. Maybe it would be better if they did. Send her already crumbling walls to the ground.

She deep cleans on Monday. She does her best to make sure the apartment isn't in disarray, that her own things are packed away, so they won't have much to deal with. The contrasting red and blue of Max and Charles' clothes are the only things left in the closet when she's done.

Speculations start again on Tuesday. Max and Charles spend all day in some PR meeting about it. It gives her time to sort out her affairs without them hearing her. She cooks them dinner to help ease the frustrations. Their teams don't want them to come out, but they do.

Wednesday, they leave to their next destination. She doesn't leave the hotel room despite the concerns of others. Carmen and Lily come around at some point. They eat in with her and kick out the boys. It feels normal for the first time in months. She almost breaks and tells them.

Thursday is media day. She feels for both boys as they get asked invasive questions about their love life. They look stressed. She gets hugged a little tighter that night. It calms the thoughts, but it's not enough. They hurt more every day. She's just wants it to stop.

Practice on Friday goes well for both. Max and Charles are in better spirits. She drags herself out to eat with them. the boys don't care who sees. She does. The anxiety nearly suffocates her. eyes crawling over her skin. Please, make it stop.

Saturday is a wreck. The qualifying is difficult for both her partners. Their relationship status is once again coming under fire. The speculating is becoming extreme, enough for the whispering of the paddock to become deafening to her ears. She spends her time hiding away, writing her last thoughts in messy scrawl.

Sunday, they turn the weekend around. The podium has always suited them. Smiling for everyone to see and dousing each other in champagne. She smiles too, even though it hurts.

They fly back to Monaco that night. Conversation turns to going public despite team wishes. They are willing to risk it for her. She can't bring herself to say yes. They worked hard to live their dreams; she won't ruin it for them.

Monday comes around again. The notes are laying out on the table. The boys are with their friends, some kind of brunch get together.

She leaves the bathroom door unlocked.

The bath filled, her clothes still on. Her thoughts finally still. Tears streak down her face.

The water is cold.

Then it's red.

~~~~~

"I worry about leaving her alone." Charles pulls the car back into its spot.

"Well, if we brough her along it wouldn't be much of a surprise, yes?" Max checks his watch again. "Plus, what could she have done in the fifteen minutes we were gone?"

They haul the ridiculous number of snacks to the front door. They decided last week they would see if they could coax the female out of her depressive state, just for a little while. Maybe get her to confide in them. If not, then at the very least a therapist.

The distance is damn near suffocating. She's so close physically, yet so far away mentally. Always staring at the walls with a distant look in her eyes.

The apartment is eerily quiet when they step inside. The kind that Charles despises after living in a chaotic house with two brothers and three busy schedules his Maman had to keep track of.

He drops the bags and peers around the entry way. Then searches the corridors until he finds one of the bathroom doors closed.

Charles knocks on the door but receives no response. "Cheri? Are you not feeling well?"

Charles almost dives out of the way when Max comes barreling down the hallway. The Dutch tries the doorknob, heavy breathing filling the odd silence.

Charles pales at the sight revealed to him. Paralyzed that this horrific scene could even be a possibility. Is he dreaming? He has to be - there isn't any way for this to be real... right?

"Charles!-" the Monegasque is dragged from his thoughts. Real or not, Max needs his help. Scratch that - she needs his help. "- Get an ambulance!"

Charles fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes the call. Max is desperate trying to stop the bleeding from the vertical slit traveling her forearm. "Is she...?" He can't finish the thought. Heart being through his chest at the possible answer.

"Pules is there but faint." Max sounds like he's desperately trying to hold back his tears. His mind working desperately to keep her alive.

Charles must space out. He doesn't remember opening the door or watching her be carried out by the swift paramedics. The car ride doesn't register, not until they are already in the waiting room.

Max hands him her notes. The paragraphs she wrote to them. A final goodbye in messy scrawl, but the tails of her letters still curled.

"She did it for us, Charlie, because she thought she was hurting us."

They both break down in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Charles violently sobbing. Neither of them respond to their messages. Phones buzzing with calls that go to voice-mail.

A doctor comes calling her name. Charles is only half listening. Specifically looking for either a confirmation of death or the relief of hearing that she's okay. Max seems to be paying attention. His shoulders sag, and there is a soft look on his face when they are left to their own devices.

"She's alive, Charlie."

He erupts until tears once more.

~~~~~

Everything hurts. Her thoughts are fuzzy. There is something soft beneath her.

The white ceiling is paired with the burning smell of alcohol. A sterile environment. Meaning-

Fuck. How did it go so wrong? How had they managed to keep her alive?

The beeping on the heart monitor picks up. A sign that she's definitely alive and in a hospital.

Her attempts at moving are futile. There is too much pain and exhaustion to do so. A pulsing behind her ears drowns out the thumping of her heart.

"Rest now, amour."

It takes a single stroke of Charles' fingers on her cheek to make her entire facade shatter into nothing.

She's mumbling incoherent words. It's a string of apologies, rants of anger and embarrassment, and confusion at why they are even here with her. They are continually reassuring her. They coo into her ear how they are so glad she's alive. That she doesn't have to fight whatever battle through hell this is alone.

Recovery is difficult. They have to put her on a suicide watch, but Max and Charles somehow manage to keep her out of the psychward. Mostly because they want to be with her at all hours of the day.

They miss a singular race for her. Then drag her to the next. Part of the deal they had made was that they won't sacrifice their careers for her.

They negotiated with the teams. Managed to wriggle around their soft spots and get them to approve going public. Max and Charles want to openly defend her. No more public executions. They'er pulling her out of the shark infested waters that is the media.

It's slow. People ask about it sometimes; why Charles and Max had missed that race. None of them give an answer. They aren't obligated to.

"Why fight for me?" She asks. a year after the events.

"Because chéri, we love you enough to help you carry the burden."

"Honestly liefste, we fight for what we believe in. We believe in you and the love you have for us."

"Maybe it's selfish, but we want to share that with you. Keep you here with us to go on adventures and explore the different paths life offers."

"So don't leave us yet. You are worth every sacrifice."