#and before you ask…yes of course I bought it

[mintfullyyours]

something blue

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

I'd originally written this as a multi-chap fic so this is what I have so far. Thank you so much for reading!! I really appreciate and love talking to everyone about the 141! authors here are so talented and feed me in every way that I'm grateful to have this creative outlet too.

AnYWAY!!! LMK what y'all think.

Other Simon pics for your consideration: amnesiac!simon part 1, amnesiac!simon part 2-ish, patching up exhusband!simon, ex-husband!simon part 2, to give a dog a bone (aka saving simon once),

"Baby, listen, I needed a break so I could do some... soul-searching."

You pressed your phone to your ear, weaving through the crowd as you descended the escalator toward baggage claim. "And soul-searching had to happen between your assistant's legs?"

"It was one time," James sighed, exasperation laced in his voice.

"Right. And that makes it better somehow?" You scoffed, adjusting the duffle bag slipping off your shoulder. "Listen, James, I have to go. It’s my sister's wedding week, and I’m really looking forward to explaining to my entire family why my cheating ex won’t be in attendance—for obvious reasons."

Too focused on maneuvering through the sea of travelers, you didn’t notice the hulking figure in your path until you collided—shouldering a body that felt like solid stone. A shock shot through you, something sharp and electric, like static but deeper, rippling under your skin.

"Shit—sorry," you mumbled, barely sparing the man a glance. But even in that fleeting moment, there was something about him. The sheer size of him, the weight of his gaze, the way he felt — like gravity had shifted just for him.

A grunt emanated from his lips. You shook your head and darted away from him – not wanting to deal with the locals and refocused your attention on the carousel.

“Baby, I—”

"Nope. Goodbye." You hung up mid-protest and exhaled, exasperated. The last thing you needed was James’ voice in your ear ruining the little bit of peace you had left.

The conveyor belt whirred to life and your simple black suitcase rolled into view. You grabbed it swiftly, eager to put distance between you and the airport chaos, already exhausted by the week ahead. You just needed a hot shower, a drink, and a moment to forget your disaster of a love life.

Unbeknownst to you, across the baggage claim, a towering man in a black hoodie with a camouflage print duffle bag was staring down at a suitcase identical to yours.

Simon Riley’s brow furrowed beneath his mask as he realized his luggage was missing.

At your hotel room, you finally picked up your mother’s call—something you’d been avoiding all night.

“You’re coming for... As the Brits would say afternoon tea tomorrow, right?” she asked, her voice chipper and expectant. “Your sister’s future in-laws will be there too.”

“Yeah, of course, Mom,” you mumbled, shutting the curtains to your room.

“Oh, good! Wear the pink dress I bought you then.” You shuddered at the thought of wearing something so fluffy. “And you brought your sister’s baby pictures?”

You plopped onto the floor, suitcase in front of you, already unzipping it. “Yes, they’re in my lugga—”

Your words cut off as the sight before you sank in.

This… wasn’t your luggage.

“What the fuck…” you mumbled, sifting through the unfamiliar belongings. Your mother tsked on the other end. “Language.”

“Sorry, uh—yeah. I brought them,” you said absentmindedly, but panic had already started to settle in. Your suitcase could be anywhere by now. You were so screwed.

Your fingers frantically dug into the foreign clothing, pulling out neatly folded black shirts—all black, heavy-duty material, the kind that felt expensive but built for function. Then came the cargo pants, thick straps and buckles lining the sides. You lifted a jacket that looked like it weighed more than you, feeling the sheer size of it, like it belonged to a man carved from stone.

And then—your fingers brushed against something different.

Thick. Stiff. Worn.

You pulled it out, expecting a belt or gloves—only to be met with the hollow, gaping eyes of a skull mask.

A chill ran down your spine.

The material was sturdy, molded for durability, not for show. The kind of thing that didn’t belong in civilian luggage.

A weight settled in your stomach, but before you could even process it, your fingers brushed against another.

And then another.

Your pulse spiked as you pulled them free—three, four—each identical, yet different. Some had cracks along the bone-white surface, others bore deep scuffs, dark smudges, like they’d been through hell. One of them had what looked like dried blood staining the lower jaw.

Your mind raced. What the hell kind of person needed multiple skull masks? Your throat went dry. Was he some kind of serial killer? A mercenary? A complete fucking psycho? Why the hell did you have this bag?

“Also, did James arrive with you?”

Your mother’s voice cut through the silence. Another muttered fuck under your breath. “Who? Sorry, yeah, Mom… about that.”

“Is that Sissy?” a voice chirped in the background. “Gimme, gimme — hello?”

Your sister’s voice replaced your mother’s, bright and teasing. She was always so much better at this, at life, than you. 

“Heyyy,” you said, forcing lightness into your tone, “I’m excited to see you tomorrow!”

“Ugh, same. Save me from the mom-sanity,” she giggled. “You’re bringing James, right? I’m dying to meet the guy!”

Your fingers traced the luggage lining, searching—praying—for some kind of identification. Then, finally, you found it. A small leather name tag, embossed with a name and phone number.

Without thinking, without breathing, you word-vomited the first name you saw. “Did I say James? Because I meant… Simon.”

A pause. Well you were committed to the bit now. 

“...Simon Riley.”

The name sat heavy in the air, and your fingers tightened around the mask still in your lap.

You didn’t know who Simon Riley was. But for now that didn’t matter. The name sat heavy between you and your sister, stretching the air thin. Your sister broke the silence first, “Okay… I guess I have time to change the seating card but really sissy, you have to tell me these things sooner. And Simon's your boyfriend, right?”

She asked and then, a vibration.

Your head snapped to your phone screen.

UNKNOWN CALLER.

You chose to ignore it, "Yes, I'm with Simon. Been almost a year now." The lie came easily because what else could you have said?

Then another vibration.

This time, a text.

A single message.

“Wrong bag, love. But you already knew that.”

A chill shot down your spine with skull masks staring up at you. You gulped and hung up the phone after you reassured your sister you'd be there tomorrow. This was going to be a long night.

Now you and Simon Riley had never met before. Not properly, anyway.

The first time he knew you existed was because of a simple mix-up at the baggage claim. Nothing special. Nothing deliberate. Just a wrong bag taken by the wrong person at the worst possible time.

And yet—

The moment he unzipped your suitcase, his entire world tilted.

Your scent was the first thing that hit him. Something warm, something sweet. Not perfume—no, it was deeper than that. Skin and shampoo and you. He could smell it on the soft sweater tucked inside, the delicate pink lace of something he shouldn’t be touching, but he does anyway.

Then, there was the red floor-length dress.

The dress that, for some fucking reason, he couldn't stop staring at.

His fingers flexed around the fabric, his mind already playing tricks on him—How would it fit? Would it hug her just right? Would it be easy to pull up, to push aside—

His jaw clenched.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

But then there were the other things—small, delicate things that told him more about you than a conversation ever could. The book tucked into the side pocket. The neatly folded socks. The half-used lipstick that made his pulse tick in his throat.

What would that color look like staining the skin around his cock?

And that was when he knew.

Knew he had to see you.

He thanked the Universe for the handy contact information on your luggage tag and reached for his phone.

It wasn't about the luggage anymore.

It was about you.

Tag list

@ebodebo @meheheasasa @thegirlintheshadows101 @galactict3a @star-buck-barnes @synamonthy @vylaris @vvenus-child @negomisan @heretoreadanddrinktea @mocalocha @icommitwarcrimes @readingcatinacorner @just-lilita @blackhawkfanatic @kristalhi

[ukiyoriki]

BOYFRIEND & CHILL

╰ — when they wanna watch movies and chill with their gf 𓈒

TESTI — boyfriend enha get home from practice and all they want to do is cuddle and watch movies with their girlfriend 𓈒 was too lazy to do maknae line, sorry 𓈒 𓈒 엔하이픈 +x fem!reader . skinship , cuddling , kissing , petnames , && lots of fluff 𓈒 (⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝)

HEESEUNG ──── practice? rougher than usual, but he wasn’t thinking about that right now. all that was on his mind was arriving home to his beloved girlfriend, you. on the porch, heeseung fumbled with his keys, unlocking the door quickly. he was met with the sight of you reading a book while sprawled out on the sofa. he smiled and walked over to you, slamming the door with a soft thud. you look up from your book and greet him with a warm smile, standing up. he walls over to you, taking off his jacket and immediately pulling you into a tight hug. “baby, i missed you so much..” he whispers as he nuzzles his head into your hair, inhaling your scent with a soft sigh. “i missed you too, how was work?” you ask, but his mind seems to be somewhere else as he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom “it was fine..” he murmurs in your ear, making you blush slightly. “wanna watch ocean waves?” he asks, laying you down before rolling you over and getting in himself. he wraps his arm around your waist, waiting for your response. you smile and reply, “of course i do..” he chuckles, reaching for the remote. “besides, i knew you’d make me watch it again for the 10th time even if i said no.”

JAY ──── practice was tiring, much expected, but it wore him out significantly. you were scrolling on the new phone jay had recently bought you when the door opened with a soft click. “how’s my favorite princess doing?” he asks, his voice echoing throughout the large room. you look up and smile, standing up. “i’m good, now that your here.” you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he takes off his designer coat. “how was practice?” you ask, heading to the kitchen. “it was okay, nothing out of the ordinary..” he says back, following you. as you grab a stray tupperware and place it back in the drawer, his arms wrap around your waist. “wanna watch titanic..?” he asks you politely, burying his head into the soft crook of your neck. you smile and say, “that’s the fourth time this week just watching the movie for the straight four hours.. but how could i say no to you?” you step away from the counter and jay doesn’t hesitate to carry you bridal style, careful as to not grip you to hard as he carries you up. “i can walk, jongseong.” you say, sighing into his chest. “yes, and?” .

JAKE ──── although under the weather, it didn’t stop him from craving the urge to cuddle with you in bed. opening the door, he doesn’t see you in the living room, so he tosses his bag and hat onto the sofa before running up the stairs, his footsteps making an echo in the lavish penthouse. he bursts into your room, making you turn your gaze away from the tv. “hey, baby..” he pants out, jogging over to you. you smile at the sight of him out of breath and ask, shifting to the edge of the bed, “why’re you so excited to see me?” he pouts and answers, “give me a good reason as to why i shouldn’t be happy to see my lovely girlfriend.” you sigh and don’t say anything, unable to think of something. “that’s what i thought.” he snickers, getting under the sheets with you, grabbing the remote from the side table. “we’re rewatching the harry potter movies from start to final. no excuses, you’ve already showered, did the laundry, and had dinner.” you smile and say, “hey, i was actually planning to say yes this time!!” jake rolls his eyes and says, “pftt— yeah right..”

SUNGHOON ──── lion king. it was his favorite movie to watch with you on nights when life was rough. so today, when he pullrd through the driveway, he knew he wanted to just sit in bed with you and watch it. you were in the kitchen, putting some plates in the dishwasher when the front door opened, revealing none other than your beloved boyfriend, sunghoon. “hey hoon, why the sad face?” you ask, washing your hands before drying them with a towel. “nothing, just practice.” he says in response, taking off his hat and jacket. you walk over to him and give him a warm hug? making him smile. in unison you two say, “wanna watch lion king?” shocked by the coincidence, you two pull away before laughing together. “great minds think alike i guess..” he murmurs, smiling softly as his lips meet yours. then, you two head upstairs, giggling like two idiots in love.

150225 — ukiyoriki

• taglist !! 🔖 @coqhee — @heeaara

[clovermoters]

we love, love day! ln4 x reader

summary - with a wedding on the way, lando makes sure this years valentine’s day is one you and him will remember forever.

warnings - fluff, small amount of smut towards the end (oral fem receiving) extremely established relationship, lando is a loverboy, extreme valentines adorableness. wc: 2.8k !!

a/n - happy love day loves! i hope u all enjoy this little fic i wrote for yous <3 id like to give a big big thank you to @landopoet for being my lovely proof reader/editor/person i bounce my ideas off of! anyways with love..enjoy 💗

February 4th 2025

the calm hum of the McLaren Technology Centre was quiet in the background of your boss going over the preseason marketing plans for the team.

your face rested on your palm as you fought the urge to fall asleep in your chair. you’ve been in meetings all day and all you want to do is go home and cuddle with your fiancé, who’s been texting you updates throughout his day off at home. receiving pictures of him on the couch watching movies and playing games with Max Fewtrell. his updates however, went radio silent during your previous meeting.

“and with that i’ll leave you to your assignments for the week, please email me if you have any questions or concerns, see you Sunday for our livery launch” your boss announces.

you swiftly pack up your supplies into the purse Lando had bought you for christmas mere months ago.

making your way towards the spot lando agreed to pick you up, your eye catches a mix of red and pink balloons tied together, next to them stood your loving fiancé holding a pink drink with a delicious looking cake pop sticking out of it, looking at you with a giddy smile.

“well hello to you too...” you eye your boyfriends cheeky look on his face as he hands you your drink. you take the cake pop out, revealing the simple sharpie writing on the plastic lid.

will you be my valentine? <3

you laugh softly looking up to see your boyfriends eyes. the hopeful look on his face makes your heart melt.

“lan, baby, we’re getting married in 4 months” you say with a giggle. the boy scoffs at you “oh i'm well aware love, but i still need to ASK you to be my valentine. it's how the holiday works, sweetheart!”

you smile taking a sip of the drink before reaching out to link your hand with Landos, giving him a soft peck on his lips. “of course i’ll be your valentine, my love”

Landos eyes sparkle, smiling from ear to ear as he gives a gentle fist pump to the air, whispering a playful “yes! let’s gooo!” under his breath before pulling you into a tender kiss. you giggle into his lips as he pulls you closer by the hips, your lips moving together in sync before you gently pull away, reminded that you left your planner on your desk.

“i'll just be a second.. i need to grab something from my desk quickly” you mumble into his lips

he nods “okay, i’ll wait here.” you turn on your heels, speedily navigating through the quiet office. it was getting late on a friday evening and you weren’t surprised to see others having already gone home to their families.

on your way out, you cross paths with your co-worker, she smiles at the drink in your hand.

“it’s sweet how he feels the need to ask his fiancé to be his valentine” she comments, your cheeks go pink as you gaze down at the cup in your hand. you try to memorize the scribbled sentence on the plastic, wondering what you did to deserve the man who’s currently waiting for you downstairs. “he just loves love,” you reply with a shy smile.

wishing her a lovely evening, you quickly make your return to find Lando holding your balloons while typing away at his phone. his face lights up at you, taking your hand in his.

you walk to his mclaren 765LT, your personal favourite car of his. he opens the door for you before rounding the car to get in himself.

“alright pretty girl, time to get my valentine home,” he adds playfully, starting the car. he leans over the console to place a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before merging onto the country roads, taking you two home.

February 7th 2025

the soft stream of sunlight filtering through the curtains woke you up. you rolled over in your sheets expecting to find your sleeping fiancé next to you, only to be met with cold, pulled back sheets.

you frown, lando hadn’t mentioned going on a run this morning and your shared calendar hadn’t shown a meeting being scheduled. on a regular day, it’s rare for him to wake up first.

a pout forms on your face as the smell of maple syrup fills your senses. you sleepily make your way through the apartment. slippers shuffling across the hardwood floor, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you turn the corner into the kitchen.

there at the stove stood a shirtless Lando, his hair askew from sleep, grey sweatpants sat on his hips, he’s smiling back at you, spatula in hand.

your breath halts in your throat when you spot the table he had set. roses and other flowers placed strategically around the table for two, surrounded in a sea of orange and red flowers. the table already set with fruit and a variety of your favourite pastries. your heart squeezed at the thought of him taking the time to set this up.

“what is all this for?” you ask, hands fluttering softly against his back before gently wrapping your arms around his bare chest. Lando smiles, rocking you both side to side.

“can’t a guy treat his girl one week out from love day?” he asks, mocking offense. you giggle, turning to give a kiss to his back before lando spins around, leaning in to give you a sweet kiss on your lips.

“i’m just surprised you managed to do this all on your own,” you tease.

he chuckles “i did actually have to call my mum.” he admits “but it still tastes the same!”

February 11th 2025

Lando left for testing yesterday and you’ve been home alone. five years into your relationship you and Lando no longer felt the need to go to testing together. you spent your day puttering around the apartment cleaning and resetting your mind for landos return.

you’d been cleaning all day, reorganizing clothes, doing laundry and even venturing into landos office to clean his helmets. just after lunch you decided a nap would do you good. right before you decided to take yourself to your room, your phone chimes.

lan <3: hey love, just hopped out of the car. it feels great! how are you doing?

you smiled at his text, a picture attached of his sweaty post race face showing you a goofy smile.

gosh you already missed that face and it’s only been a day.

you: hi baby! i’ve cleaned so much i’m about to pass out, about to take a nap but i’m happy to see ur cute face before i sleep <3333

you sent a photo back of you poking your tongue out at the camera.

lan <3: aw there she is! love you baby, enjoy your nap, call me when your up xx

liking the message you click your phone off, placing it on the nightstand before getting comfortable in your bed. letting the sleep pull you into an essential nap.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

the sun had moved through the sky when you woke, a pink glow flowing into the room. you sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you felt well rested from your catnap, turning in your spot you catch the singular rose sat on the foot of the bed.

you scramble to your feet picking up the rose, examining it in your fingers. your look around your room slightly panicked, thinking someone broke in, you open the door to check the rest of the house.

swinging the door open you step out into the hallway, you feel a flutter at your feet, looking down you see a trail of rose petals. you gasp slightly, slowly following the flowers into the living room you stop in your tracks when the room is filled to the ceiling with bouquets of roses.

there were too many bouquets to count, you tried. you got to thirty before you gave up. moving to the kitchen where there were more bouquets to be found covering every surface there was.

placed in the middle of one of the bouquets was a letter, reading the envelope your stomach erupted to butterflies

my love

recognizing the handwriting was landos, you rip open the letter.

hey beautiful, i know i can't be home right now but i wanted to do something special because i love you more than words. 72 bouquets of roses for the 72 hours im away from you. see you soon pretty girl, i love you xx

L <3

flipping the card over you chuckled at the parting message

ps. max used his spare key to place these while you were asleep, i know you were probably worried about someone breaking in. he should still be outside if you wanna go say hi, love you, call me when you can!

you dashed to the front door, opening it to see a very disheveled max fewtrell stood on the other side. The man still had stray petals in his ruffled hair. you had to cover your mouth to muffle the giggles from escaping.

“lando promised me best man if i did this, you're an EXTREMELY heavily sleeper by the way” is all he says before raiding your fridge for leftover pizza, as you pick up your phone to ring the love of your life.

February 14th 2025

Lando woke up first again. the sunlight peeking through the curtains. he rolled over to find you sleeping soundly next to him, he couldn’t help but admire your peaceful state, you looked adorable with your face squished into the pillow.

he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before crawling out of bed. Today was the day he had planned down to a T. he spent the past two weeks waiting to shower you with his love.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

you stirred in your sleep to find Lando laying between your legs, soft kissing fluttering across your stomach, as he lifted your his shirt. You whimper softly when he sucks on the valley between your tits. your hips bucked as the heat between your legs grows.

“ ‘mmf- fuck lando” you moan when he trails kisses down your stomach, to settle between your thighs. licking his lips when he pulls your panties to the side. your core was dripping, Lando taking his fingers, spreading your wetness through your folds, praises falling from his lips as his nose brushed against your clit.

your hands found his curls, tugging softly to guide him through your folds, his tongue working wonders on every nerve ending. sending you dizzy.

Lando curled his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that had you like putty in his hands.

he loved seeing you like this, you looked angelic, eyes closed with your lips slightly parted. you tasted amazing, he groaned as he ate you out like a starved man. his tongue running up and down your folds, sucking on your clit while his fingers worked inside you.

“oh fuck…. lando!” you were a fucking mess above him, hardly able to form a sentence as you choke on moans. landos knees went weak at the noises you made, grinding slightly into the mattress to find from release. he relished in the sounds that tumbled from your lips just for him

“ come ‘for me baby, let me hear ya” he slurs into your folds, drunk on your taste.

the vibrations sending you over the edge as your finish on his face with a loud moan, your slick coating his goatee, lips puffy as he takes you through your orgasm.

you catch your breath as he places soft kisses on your clit, earning small whimpers as you come down from your high. you pull him away from your legs, his eyes blown out as he licks his lips before raising to place a sweet kiss on your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“happy valentines day gorgeous” he mumbles into your lips.

“happy valentines day lan” you reply sweetly. Lando switches to lie down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. the two of you choosing to spend a few minutes tangled together before you get up to start your day.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

your first gift of the day was a basket filled with your favourite goodies, an array of chocolates and sweets overflowing a small crochet basket partnered with a small jellycat lando had seen you dot over when you two took a trip to the market last week. you had ooo-d and aww-d at the plushie for five minutes before deciding you don't need it.

he went back and bought it the next day.

you were ecstatic when you saw the jellycat, throwing your arms around his neck while a string of thank you’s fell from your lips right before attacking his face with kisses on every inch of his tanned skin.

he laughed, “don't thank me yet, you still have one more gift.”

you raise your eyebrow at him, he matches your expression playfully before pinching your hips. lifting you off him to stand up. he leans down slightly, his face coming close to yours.

“but that's for later,” he says with a wink.

your face flushes pink and he swiftly makes his way out the room, leaving you standing frozen at his boldness.

“c’mon baby! we gotta get going!” Lando shouts to you, like he didn’t just send shivers down your spine at his words

you spent the day hand in hand, walking through London drinking overpriced coffee with Lando carrying multiple designer shopping bags with your name on it. he loved spending his money on you, letting you waltz around a high-end store with him and his wallet in tow while he got to sit on comfy couches and watch a personal fashion show.

that's his favourite pastime.

the day was filled with love and kisses, even after years together every kiss felt as special as the first. Lando loved you the same way now as he did when you were twenty and following him around the world with lovestruck hearts in your eyes. when you stumbled back into the apartment, clothes slightly misplaced after a steamy car ride home. you prepared for dinner while Lando took a nap, letting you do your thing.

the dress you’d chosen for tonight was one of Lando’s favourites, light pink silk that hugs your body in all the right places. Landos eyes lit up when you walked out, him sporting a white button up shirt with the top few buttons undone.. just how you like it, and black slacks.

“wow…you look gorgeous” his eyes raked up and down your body as you applied your lip gloss.

“and you look handsome as ever” you say, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

the restaurant was a small, italian, hole in the wall just outside of monaco. you and Lando adored dining here because you never had to worry about paparazzi, you could enjoy the company of each other during your meal.

you sat across from each other, your glass filled with some expensive scarlet wine while Lando nursed his whisky. he looked delicious, the dim lighting coating his tan skin like he was sent down from the gods just for you, chestnut curls tamed perfectly, matched with your favourite chain sitting on his neck.

your hands linked as he played with your engagement ring, your conversation casual as the waiter arrives with her notepad. Lando speaks up to order for the two of you

“she’ll have the fettuccine alfredo,” Lando points to you with a smile, “and I will have the penne marinara.” handing your menus off, you're left alone once again.

“now before food comes i want to give you one last gift” Lando speaks, reaching under the table, your browns knit in confusion as he places a small gift bag in front of you.

carefully pulling the tissue out of the bag a small jewelry box sits inside. your eyes meet Lando's and he's smiling back at you like you're the only girl in the room. “go on… open it,” he whispers with a slight nod.

inside the box sits a dainty silver necklace, tears prick your eyes as you touch the pendant. a small L with the number 4.

“lan.,” you sniffle “it's beautiful, thank you..” you take the necklace into your hands, immediately clasping it around your neck, getting up to give Lando a sweet kiss on the lips.

even after five years, and with his ring sitting on your finger, Lando loves to show the world, and you, that you are his and how much he loves you. he loves everything about you, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh, your home cooked meals that welcome him home after a race weekend. you had been his rock for years and will continue to be in for the rest of his life. He smiled watching you sit across from him, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“just think, next valentines day,” he leans forward slightly, “we're gonna be married!” he whispers excitedly like you were keeping a secret. you giggle at him, matching his excitement.

“i know, i'm worried that if you went all out this year, what's gonna happen next year when i'm your wife!?” you joke, he giggles, throwing his head back slightly as his chest shakes with laughter.

“don't underestimate me baby, i've already got plans.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

thank you for reading ahhh i hope u enjoyed

love ya see you soon (hopefully)

[axetivev]

~ Summary: You were a vigilante in Gotham who happened to marry the Dark Knight himself-Bruce Wayne.

~ Warnings: Fluff! Reader is a vigilante under the name; Trailblaze.

~ Words: 652.

~ A/N: Here ya go! Firstly, I forgive you many for taking 6 days fuckin' to finish your request. Secondly. I accidentally. Yes. Again—delete the anon's request and I forgot to screenshot it. FINALLY, I hope you and others love this fic, thank you for your patience!

~ Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Male!Reader

The very day you’ve met Bruce Wayne. There’s something in your heart that just stung you in a good way. You’d just admire him, even knowing you both work together—both in daylight and dark nights. Batman and Trailblaze roam Gotham for crimes together, while hiding that heroic image as husbands.

It was a casual afternoon in the Bat-Cave. Jason was fixing his bike, Tim was on the Bat-Computar, and the most important—You and Bruce training. After some quick sit ups and other activities later, you sat close to Tim, all sweaty in your gray top and white training Bruce bought for you. Tim glanced at you for a second, shrugged before continuing whatever he’s going. Jason still fixing his bike. But your attention aren’t to them. But Bruce.

Standing sweaty, Bruce’s costume made black top with the writing “Best Father”, as sweat slowly darkened the fabric, this just made you stare. And the moment he wiped his sweat with the tower Jason throws at him, damnit. Why does he looked so… hot? You’ve work with him for so long. Known him long as well. Your heart always bumping so fast seeing him.

“I want to be impregnate by him—” Those words escaped your lips without a second thought. Tim turned his head to you, raising and eyebrow. Jason soon, followed Tim. Looking at you with the most questionable expression man can imagine. Bruce in the other hand, didn’t heard anything.

…But seriously. Besides that sometimes your bottom instinct kicks in. When the sun fall, everybody knew Gotham is filled by crime. Even after years of working together, violence is more of your thing. Yes, Batman also beats his enemies. But not as aggressive as you were. Batman’s no kill rule is something you struggled with, the fact that the Dark Knight had to dragged you back when you went a little rough on the tugs made Batman—under his mask slaps himself. He can’t do much because you are his husband.

Patrols are sometimes your date night with Bruce. How? Well…

When you two became vigilantes, and someway somehow, there were low crimes happening. You two standing on one of the buildings on Gotham. Bruce—Batman would stood firm, his cape covering his fine body and muscles. While you sat on the edge, legs swinging smirking to yourself. Occasionally Batman would look at you, he’d sometimes ignored you which led making you annoyed him.

“Baatttsss~!!” You’d call him with a whiny tone which making the Dark Knight sighed. Responding with a grunt.

“C’monnnn! Can’t we do something fun? I–I don’t know! Like maybe slacking off patrol and went on a small date?” Batman when looked at you after you finished your words, sighing. “Keep yourself professional, Trailblaze.” Batman would reply with his usual deep tone as he gently pushed you down, making you fall. Of course Batman just realized when you let out a quiet yelp, making his eyes wide, immediately looking down from where you sat.

“M/N…? M/N!” His voiced echoed, Batman’s expression harden. But then—a long sigh escaped his lips, turning his head to find you walking from the other edge of the building, twirling a pocket knife with a smirk.

“I’m surprised you forgot by how much I love risking my life, Bruce.” You said, Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine… what you want?” He asked. Making your eyes lit up.

“…”

“Uno? Seriously, Trailblaze?”

“Ah ah ah! It’s M/N, Bruce.” You poke your husband’s cheek, Bruce sighed. You swore you saw a smile on his face, it’s almost odd to fine the literal Batman smiling. But it made your heart felt warm…

“You simply have a big and strong body… in reality, you’re still a child.” Bruce commented, as he watched you shuffled some of the cards.

“Oh! You damn bastard!” You chuckled to his words, as you saw Bruce smiling.

[luv4arinn]

THIS!!

April is my comfort character (and yes, I also love Megan Fox, I’m not complaining). She’s so sweet, I adore her. I’ve always seen her as a mother/big sister figure to the turtles, and that dynamic is pure gold.

BUT GOD— Bayverse April had SO much potential for real character development.

And what did they do with her? Oh, right, they added that super necessary shot of her butt in the first movie. Wow. Such a great contribution to the plot. Absolutely essential. I hate how they sexualized her.

Like—HELLO?? This girl lost her entire family in a single night. Her father died in a fire, and the only thing she had left were four little turtles and a rat. And not only did she save them from the flames—she freed them, let them live, and loved them from the very start.

While anyone else would have run away, April treated those five mutant experiments as her family, even as a child.

Don’t tell me she didn’t feel incredibly guilty when she left them in the sewer.

Don’t tell me she didn’t cry in her bed, wondering if they survived.

Oh God, my girl.

And then she grew up admiring SACKS, only to find out that he was responsible for her father’s death.

She also grew up believing it had all been a dream, that the turtles and Splinter had died that night. Until one day, years later, she sees them again.

Where is April’s emotional arc? Where is her trauma?

You’re telling me she felt guilty when she accidentally led Sacks to the lair???

And the worst part? That Shredder showed up and almost killed Splinter.

WHAT A LOAD OF CRAP.

AND ON TOP OF THAT, you’re telling me that by the second movie, Raph DIDN’T teach her how to break skulls??

LMAOOOO. Be serious.

Better yet, you’re telling me they cut scenes between April and Raph??

WHAT.

We need MORE Bayverse April content. I’m on my knees. Begging.

So YES, I’m joining the cause.

Here, have some more headcanons for our sweet April <3



April is absolutely obsessed with yellow. It’s her color, her essence, her vibe. But not just any yellow—her yellow. If you see a piece of clothing in that shade in her closet, chances are she bought it in multiple versions: jackets, blouses, heels… even phone cases.

April is an honorary turtle, whether she likes it or not. She’s their human sister, and you can bet they’re always causing chaos in her apartment. Pizza stains on the couch? Of course. Mikey hanging from the ceiling fan? Don’t ask. Donnie trying to install some weird tech in her toaster? Definitely.

April and Donnie are the ultimate geek disaster siblings. There’s no way she understood all the information Donnie dumped on her about Baxter Stockman in the second movie the first time. God, I know she was a fan of him too before realizing he was insane. She gets excited over the same nerdy topics as Donnie—though sometimes, she just nods and pretends to understand.

April knows Mikey has a crush on her. She’s not stupid, it’s so obvious that UGH— but she doesn’t want to hurt him, so she pretends she never noticed. To her, Mikey is like her little brother. She gives him hugs, ruffles his bandana affectionately, and tells him he’ll find someone amazing one day.

Leo respects her more than he lets on. He doesn’t trust many people outside of his family, but April earned that place. When he’s stressed, sometimes she’s the only one who can calm him down with a simple “Hey, breathe. We’ll figure it out.”

April drives like a lunatic. They trust her to get them out of dangerous situations, but every time she gets behind the wheel, EVERYONE holds on like it’s their last day on Earth. Raph yells insults, Mikey enjoys it way too much, Donnie calculates survival odds in his head, and Leo just accepts his fate.

When she found them again, she spent nights watching videos of their childhood. Sometimes she cried, sometimes she laughed, but mostly, she wondered what her life would’ve been like if she had never lost them… or her father.

After the first movie, Raph taught her how to kick ass. Oh my God, YES. Though she had to wait for him to take the initiative because she didn’t want to be a burden (she never would be). Now she can take down a guy twice her size without hesitation.

THIS WOMAN FACED SHREDDER ALONE HUNDREDS OF FEET IN THE AIR. WOAH. She’s got nerves of steel.

That’s why she’s 100% protective of her family and loved ones. Yes, even Vern. Especially Vern, because she knows he’d probably be dead without her.

If someone says anything even remotely offensive about them, April is already throwing daggers. Say one more word, and this woman will POUNCE. She’s mastered the “watch me destroy you with a single sentence” technique in interviews and doesn’t hesitate to use it.

She’s incredibly studious and takes her job seriously. I’m sure she had to fight to stop being seen as just a pretty face. She probably had to deal with way too many condescending remarks in her career, and every time someone tried to belittle her, she responded with cold, hard facts.

She can go hours without sleep when researching something. One time, Leo had to literally take her laptop away because she hadn’t rested in two days.

She has a special connection with Splinter. He’s like a father figure to her, and even though she doesn’t always talk about her emotions, there are moments when Splinter simply serves her a cup of tea and says, “I’m proud of you, April.” And that’s enough.

Her apartment is always a mess, but somehow, she knows exactly where everything is. Donnie tried organizing it once. Big mistake.

Mikey once took her skating through the sewers, and while she screamed like crazy at first, she ended up laughing like never before. It was the highlight of her week.

She’s an absolute fan of heroes and comics. And I know she loves Star Wars. (I’m sure Leo does too, but he just pretends he doesn’t.) Ask her anything about it, and she’ll hit you with incredibly specific information and bibliographic references. Donnie and Mikey once tried to test her knowledge, and they ended up with their heads stuffed full of facts about the original trilogy, Legends, and why Han shot first.

Absolutely, she buys/gives merch to Leo. And to the turtles, too. If you see Leo wearing a black hoodie with the Jedi Order logo, that was April. If Mikey suddenly shows up with a glow-in-the-dark Deadpool t-shirt, that was also April. Raph with a Punisher jacket? Yep, April.

I’m convinced the wardrobe change for the turtles in the second movie was all her doing. I mean, Donnie wearing solar panels as a loincloth… we all cried. April made sure they were dressed more appropriately, but also in a way that fit each of their styles. Mikey was the hardest because he liked everything (“BROOO, what about this? Or this? OR THIS?”), and Leo only agreed because she assured him that “Jedis also evolved their armor.”

No doubt she expands Splinter’s tea pantry. If there’s a rare, expensive, and hard-to-find Chinese tea, April has already gotten it for him—in three different versions. Mikey and Raph don’t understand how there can be so many differences between “grass-flavored teas,” but she and Splinter can spend hours analyzing them.

Yes, she supplies them. Clothes? Yes. Food? Yes. When she saw their fridge stocked with nothing but soda and pizza boxes, she nearly cried. Now, half of it is still soda and pizza, but at least there’s some fruit and protein.

She shares a love for bonsais with Splinter and Leo. It’s their relaxation activity together. But ironically, I know this woman has killed a cactus at least once. Mikey never let her live it down.

You cannot convince me this woman hasn’t gotten at least one tattoo. She loves body art and shares that interest with the brothers. I’m sure she let at least one of them tattoo her—probably a design by Mikey. Something small on her wrist or behind her ear, with a meaning only they understand.

Leo and Donnie made sure everything was 100% safe and sterile. Donnie literally turned Mikey’s space into a mini improvised tattoo studio. “God, April, if you’re going to do this, at least don’t die of an infection”.

Mikey was way too excited. “BROOO, THIS IS ETERNAL ART!” He made at least five sketches before she finally chose one.

She and Raph have a tradition of watching UFC fights together. He yells like he’s in the arena, and she just watches with a beer in hand, completely unfazed—until she sees the perfect kick and mutters, “Shit, that was brutal.”

Even though she helps them in their crime-fighting, she keeps trying to remind them not to forget how to live. Sometimes they show up at her place expecting to plan their next mission, only for her to force them to watch movies, play video games, or just hang out like a normal family. Well… as normal as four giant ninja turtles and an infiltration-expert reporter can be.

Donnie has taught her basic hacking. Not at his level, but enough to sneak into certain databases without getting traced. This is a problem, because now, whenever she wants a big scoop for work, Donnie gets a message like: “Hey, hypothetically speaking… if you had to break into TCRI Industries’ private files… how would you do it? Just curious.”

If Mikey is sad, April notices before anyone else. And even though she can’t give him what he truly wants (her romantic love), she always makes sure he knows how much she loves and values him. She’s the first to hug him, to make him laugh with a dumb joke, and to remind him that someday, he’ll find someone who loves him as much as he loves the world.

If she ever disappears, she’s probably at a nerd convention dressed as a Jedi. Leo would pretend not to be interested, even as she tries to convince him to come with her.

I mean, in full cosplay, who would even realize he’s an actual mutant turtle and not just a Jedi-Hulk crossover?

Obviously, Leo said no.

“April, it’s a public event. I can’t risk it.”

“Leo, there are guys in Iron Man suits that look straight out of the movies, and no one questions them. Literally no one would look at you twice.”

“No.”

“Coward.”

In the end, Mikey did go with her, dressed as a Mandalorian. He ended up signing autographs because everyone thought he was a hyper-realistic animatronic.

She has a theory that turtles don’t have actual fingerprints.

After multiple failed attempts to get them to use touch ID, she concluded that their prints are too irregular for normal sensors to read. Donnie took this personally when he tested it and failed. “This is impossible. My hands are scientifically perfect.”

She has the power to calm Raph down when he’s too fired up. Not with words. Just with a look.

When he’s about to lose control, she gives him the stare. The one that says “No. Don’t do it.”

And… well, he doesn’t always listen, but at least he hesitates.

She knows exactly how to make Leo agree to a plan that isn’t his. Just make him think it was his idea. It’s an art she has perfected.

“It would be great if someone designed a strategy that included this and this…”

“Hmm… maybe we could—”

“That’s an excellent idea, Leo! I knew you’d think of it!”

“…You’re manipulating me, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She has her own underground information network. Being a reporter and the turtles’ best friend has taught her how to move in the shadows. She has contacts everywhere—hackers, informants, low-ranking cops who hate corruption… She knows how to get intel without leaving a trace.

If she needs to go undercover, she does it with ridiculous disguises. No sleek, sexy black suits—she goes full grandma mode with awful wigs, oversized glasses, and the most unflattering clothes possible. Nobody suspects the clumsy woman who drops her purse every five seconds.

One time, Raph took her to train with Casey. And dear God, this woman fought for her life not to fall flat on her face on the ice. Raph mocked her mercilessly until she threw a snowball at his face.

She’s the only human on Earth who immediately understands Donnie’s jokes. Sometimes, she even finishes them before he does. Mikey considers this a scientific abomination beyond comprehension.

She drives like a maniac but has never crashed. It’s a miracle. She’s come dangerously close to hitting poles, jumped between moving cars, pulled off maneuvers that defy physics… but her record remains flawless. The cops can’t catch her if they can’t keep up.

Raph nicknamed her “ferrous” after watching her stand her ground against Shredder.

“You’re tougher than most people I know. You don’t break.”

She won’t admit it, but that nickname makes her smile a little every time she hears it.

She’s a fan of rock and alternative music. She has a playlist for everything. Training with Raph? Metallica. Investigative work? The Killers. Speeding away from the Foot Clan? AC/DC.

She does not fear Baxter Stockman. She did for about 0.2 seconds the first time she saw him. Then he opened his mouth, and she realized she could manipulate him into spilling information. Spoiler: she did.

If anyone hurts her turtles, she becomes a vengeful demon. She’s not a fighter, she doesn’t have super strength, but she’s smart and completely unafraid to get her hands dirty. She can make someone’s life a living hell with just a few phone calls and some well-done investigative work.

She’s been kidnapped so many times she doesn’t even panic anymore. The first time: “OH MY GOD!” The fourth time: “Okay, what’s the plan this time?”

If Casey calls her “babe” at the worst possible moment, she hits him. Not seriously, but just hard enough on the arm to make him understand that now is not the time.

Vern is only alive because she tolerates him. She genuinely cares about him, but there are days when, dear God, that man is unbearable.

If any of the turtles are injured, she’s the first to act. She’s not a doctor, but she’s learned enough from Donnie to perform advanced first aid. She’s also the only human strong enough to hold Raph up when he’s stumbling from an injury.

Mikey uses her as his human meme reference.

“APRIL, I LEARNED HOW TO MAKE MEMES WITH YOUR FACE.”

“Mikey, I swear if you Photoshop me into another Shrek meme…”

“…Oops.”

One time, she beat Raph in a pizza-eating contest. He swears he was just having an off day. She never lets him forget it.

If Splinter says he approves of her, then she’s family. And if anyone messes with her… They mess with the turtles.

that’a all bye <3

bayverse! April headcanons

because i hate the way megan fox was sexualised in the movies i wanna give her more personality than just being hot and smart 😭 i heart u bayverse April

- she thrifts! not just expensive 'real vintage' designer labels but everything, she also finds clothes than can be easily upcycled and tweaked for the boys. Her signature color is yellow so you KNOW she has rare and whimsical pieces she collects in her wardrobe

- speaking of which; she sews! Mikey often rips or breaks his stuff (like shoes and shirts) and hes always giving her bits and pieces to fix up. As much as Donnie is a tech wiz, Aprils expertise lies in the art of DIY! shes tried to teach Don how to sew but ironically its one of the few things he cant crack

- shes a stem nut, OBVIOUSLY! her and Don bond the most over new technology and the advancement of science and digital technology. her and Don made her a pc from scratch and its one of her most precious memories

- April has a really bad sweet tooth, when the guys get pizza for the rare nights in, she's reaching for Mikeys candy stash for sure (she makes sure to replenish it with all their shared faves)

- her favourite candy is anything sour! but actually sour, we're talking throat numbingly sour to the point where at the end of the bag all you taste is blood 💀 it freaks everyone out lmao

- she has a masters in journalism and a degree social sciences, its so important to her to give visibility to the stories rarely talked about. Shes very dedicated to her profession and genuinely gets mad that all vern cares about is attention from fans and the camera

- April is also very passionate about nutrition and fitness! she goes total big sister mode when the turtles neglect their protein intake especially with how big and physically demanding their jobs are. a few times she's tried to teach Leo how to cook for his brothers and hes just about learned how to not burn eggs on toast but shell be damned if she starts cooking for 4 6ft men 😭 respectfully not her job!

- she's incredibly protective of her friends, whoever they may be, even Vern. she doesn't take lightly to disrespect and she WILL trash talk you to silence if you make anyone she cares about feel less than

- when she was younger she wanted to be a zoologist or anthropologist. Like her dad, she's always had a love for science and research, but she loved animals so much as a kid and it crushed her when she realised her father was experimenting on animals

- she feels personally responsible for the turtles and Splinter, she visits them atleast once a night, whether on face time or in person. the fact that they feel theyll never be accepted in society weighs heavy on her heart. she wishes things were different

- she knows Mikey has a crush on her, but she doesn't know how to let him down gently and honestly doesn't wanna open that can of worms, so she just pretends she doesn't notice his very desperate flirting

- sleeper build april. SLEEPER BUILD APRIL. people treat her like shes fragile just because she's beautiful but shes also incredibly strong with amazing endurance. i mean hello?! SHE CAN RUN IN HEELS. thats badass

- she loves game nights w the turtles and Casey, she loves playing MK and her go-to character is ofc Mileena (goated and no im not biased)

- she may or may not have a dedicated collection of disguises for super sleuthing and recon. shes very proud of it and will give a tour if asked

- she wants to learn ninjitsu, just doesn't know if she should ask or wait to be asked. she feels awkward and sometimes wonders if its not her place, even though in reality Splinter would be happy to train someone so dedicated to justice.

- her favourite drink is banana protein smoothie!! the lair has a smoothie just for her 😭 they have to hide it from Mikey before he gets back into his liquid pizza phase again

- she likes hero comics/shows (like 2012 leo!). Naruto was her childhood and its kinda beautifully ironic that she's like a ninja by proxy now

thats all for now! its been like 5 years since ive written headcanons so sorry if the format is boring, lmk if you want more headcanons! ok bai

[yvesdoee]

content 𐙚 : when you and babygumi bring a stray into the house 🐈‍⬛

warnings 𐙚 : fem reader, just pure fluff :3 wc : 950

toji doesn't like animals. he made that clear to you when you first asked for a kitten at the early stage of your relationship. he said something about ‘not wanting fur all over his clothes’ and ‘his shoes getting shat on’. so every time you saw a cute cat video on tiktok you had to deal with your cat fever on your own (yeah, it’s like baby fever but with cats). you have long since resigned yourself to the fact that there are not and will not be animals in this house.

then you married and had megumi. you and toji barely had time for yourself, let alone a pet. although megumi grew up and became easier to handle, you decided that he was enough for you.

you and megumi went outside to buy groceries. the weather wasn't hot, but it wasn't cold either, perfect for a walk. you bought everything you needed and were on your way home with nothing to look forward to.

"kitty!" a 4-year-old boy ran up to the curb outside your yard and crouched down. you approached him curiously and saw a small gray street kitten being petted by megumi. you were about to admonish him that this kitten might be flea-ridden or dirty, but you knew that baby had a soft spot for animals and nothing could stop him from petting him. just like you.

little boy cooed at the animal and stroked it gently, and the sight had your heart swelling with affection. he turned to you with a pleading look and you already knew what that meant. you sighed. you should say no. you can't take that responsibility on yourself and your husband without discussing it with him first. you should say no. you should..

but you're not heartless, are you? you can't just leave this poor, defenseless kitten on the street. of course you can’t. your gaze softened as you looked at him. the kitten was obviously starving. he meowed softly at you, as if saying ‘please, keep me’.

a simple grocery shopping trip turned into something more. you took the kitten to the vet, bought cat shampoo, a litter box, food and a couple of toys (megumi insisted). when you brought him home, you bathed him, fed him, and let him sleep in a warm and cozy place. yeah, toji’s gonna be really pissed.

your husband came home from work late at night. he had dirt and dried blood on his clothes, and he looked like he'd give his life for a hot shower and a nice dinner. you and megumi went to meet him.

“hey, sweets.” he kissed your cheek and rubbed your back while you hugged him. “hey, brat.” he crouched down and hugged gumi’s little body as well. toji walked tiredly into the living room, where your new little family member was sleeping peacefully on the couch in front of the tv, and your heart skipped a beat.

oh.

toji stopped in the aisle and just stared at the kitten, who didn't even noticed him.

“what the hell is that thing?”

megumi walked over to the kitten and picked it up in his tiny hands, showing it off toji. “that’s mr. cat.” he announced proudly.

"yes, i see what it is. i’m asking where it came from." (he didn't ask that, but we won't talk about that).

you walked over to toji and put your hand on his chest. "honey, this poor animal was all alone on the street, hungry and lost." you said dramatically. "megs spotted him and wanted to take him home, and i just couldn't say no."

you walked over to your son, who was still holding the kitten, and put your arm around his shoulder. “isn’t that the most heartbreaking story?” you asked, giving him that puppy eyes look that always helped you in getting something. megs also learned it from you, and it didn't make things any easier for toji.

toji sighed. yes, he didn't want any animals in his house, and he hadn't changed his mind. but seeing his wife and son so happy, doting on the kitten, he just couldn't bring himself to say no. and he couldn't just throw it outside, he's not a monster. dammit.

he sighed again, and then tsked some more before he spoke. “..you can keep it, i guess.”

“yay!!” both you and megumi cheered.

“thank you, daddy.” megumi hugged toji’s leg affectionately, and toji’s heart nearly melted, but he keeped his tough guy behaviour.

“yeah, yeah, whatever makes you two happy. now go to sleep, brat, it’s late.”

when megumi went to bed and then you fell asleep too, toji sat down on the couch in front of the tv where mr. cat was lying. he looked at the cat with indifference on his face and rolled his eyes. soon the kitten stretched out and then came over to toji, laying down on his thigh.

toji froze, not knowing what to do. should he put it away? he carefully encircled the kitten's small body with his large palm and tried to pull it away gently, but the kitten clawed hard into the fabric, and toji hissed.

he got over it and let the kitten fall asleep on his leg. he spent quite a long time like that until the cat woke up again and decided he needed to change his sleeping place. toji got up from the couch, stretched, and grumbled his way to your bedroom.

he lay down on your bed, enclosing your sleeping form in a bear hug, as he did every night. he physically rolled his eyes again, thinking about the kitten, and then finally fell asleep. maybe that thing wasn’t that terrible.

a/n : this is my first drabble ever and that’s kinda ahh :3 also english is not my first language, so i apologize for any grammatical flaws !

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina - thank you so much for your content. I'm new to this fandom (another mid-30s, new to 1d after Liam, back on Tumblr after 15 years lol) and this account is helping a ton w/ wading through the history. Wanted to ask - are there any receipts that you consider pretty definitive or reliable (for whatever reason - curious how you personally evaluate them)? And an earlier ask talked about Roman Kemp / industry insiders who know about Larry - anyone in particular you would put on the list? TY!!

Hi, sugar. Welcome to the fandom. Let me think...

I'll start with the easier one; besides Roman, other people I'm fairly sure know about Harry's personal life are people like Nick Grimshaw, Olly Murs, James Corden, Ed Sheeran, Steve Aoki, Ben Winston, Charlie Lightning, Alessandro Michele, people on their teams who've known them for ages (like Harry Lambert, Molly Hawkins, Helene Horlyck, Paul Roberts, Oli, etc). Beyond that, I'm sure there are other famous people who know them as a couple, but I can't think of any off the top of my head who have let it slip. There were various people in the fandom back before they all went solo who worked in various aspects of the industry and had said it was an open secret among people as they'd heard colleagues mention it.

As for receipts, some I believe just because they're such random little nothing receipts that just feel real, like when Louis bought some art for Harry for his birthday. The yes, of course, always receipt. There’s the one from the former anti whose grandma happened to host HL in her tiny New Zealand hotel. I know Gabi grilled the person who talked to her about it and I know she was persistent. The Jamaica receipt was from someone outside the fandom and it just made sense because of the details and the timing. The practically married receipt was from a fandom friend of mine. She's not even a larrie anymore but never has come back to debunk this or say it was a lie. The Olly Murs receipt I linked above. It just fits with so many things we've heard from so many other receipts about them in the early days. I spent a while speaking to the person who sent the Copenhagen receipt and eventually spoke to them off anon as well. Their details just seemed legit.

I think @awesomefringey made a post not too long ago of her favorite receipts. Maybe she can link it here.

[ellfucksup]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Stress Reliever

Cho Sang Woo x Reader

Request - anonymous

Synopsis - Sang Woo having a long day at work appears at your door.

Warnings - MDNI, Smut, dom!sangwoo, p in v, idk what other warnings to give usual sex stuff I guess.

After your much-needed stroll through the neighborhood, hands full of unnecessary food you had randomly bought from the corner shop, you stop just before reaching your apartment.

There, sitting on your stairs, is Cho Sang-Woo, his head resting against your door, a cigarette held loosely in his right hand. He hasn’t noticed you yet. You take the opportunity to observe him. He looks annoyed… stressed? Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem positive.

Walking up to him, “Sang-Woo? Are you okay?”

He doesn’t respond but stands up, waiting for you to open the door. You do so quietly, clearly not wanting to provoke his already bad temper. He follows behind you as you walk up the stairs.

Once inside, he grabs your groceries and sets them down for you—roughly.

Raising a brow, you turn and start taking your jacket off. While your back is turned, you ask, “You going to speak to me, or just brood?”

“Stop talking. I’m not in the mood for a conversation,” he mutters.

Turning around, ready to make a snarky comment about him arriving at your house uninvited.

You're immediately pinned up against the wall, his mouth on yours, tasting of cigarettes and coffee. You try your hardest to refrain from moaning into the kiss. Squirming, trying to get out of his grip to lay into him for being a dick, quickly you feel him through his jeans, heat starts coursing through you and building in your stomach rapidly.

“Stop squirming and be quiet. I’ve had a rough day, and I’m using you to feel better, okay, baby? Can you do that for me?” he groans, grinding into you.

“Use your words, darling,” he says again.

Your cheeks heat up as you stutter slightly. “Yes,” you whisper as he starts kissing and nipping up your neck.

“Good girl, that’s what I thought,” he growls, spinning you around and pinning you to the wall. He quickly pulls up your skirt and your panties down.

“Look at you, enjoying this—and to think you were gonna tell me off,” he grumbles into your ear.

Before you can say anything more, he plunges into you, without warning. Putting his fingers in your mouth keeping your moans muffled, almost gagging you. “Fuck, this is exactly what I needed” he groans loudly.

He starts picking up the pace, working your hole. You can already feel yourself clenching around him—the pace he’s setting is brutal, almost too much. Tears stream down your face as you’re fucked into a state of bliss.

“Look at you, crying. Such a pretty sight,” you hear him smirk.

All sense of dignity leaves you, only turning you on more.

“Please, Sangwoo,” you plead, needing him to touch you more.

“Only because you’re taking it so well,” he says, moving his hand down circling your clit. The heat curling in your belly making you feel dizzy.

“So good for me, clenching so hard,” he moans loudly.

Your apartment is full of explicit sounds. Normally, you would care or worry about your roommate overhearing, but you just can’t bring yourself to.

You start to feel his breaths stagger and his rhythm become sloppier. He works your clit so well, making your vision almost darken from how hard you cum.

Leaning against the wall, trying to keep yourself up, you hear him cum behind you.

You're both there, panting, trying to catch each other's breaths.

Standing there for a few seconds, he turns and kisses your temple before pulling out of you and tucking himself back in.

Turning around, you find him looking far chirpier, a smirk on his face.

Just as you pull your trousers up, the door unlocks, and your roommate walks in. Poor Gi-hun. You’re both dressed, but judging by how disheveled and out of breath you are, he quickly gathers what happened.

He makes a face. “Gross. Not in the kitchen, please.”

[adrienneleclerc]

Valentine’s Day Headcannons pt. 1

summary: how the drivers would celebrate Valentine’s Day with you

Drivers include Charles leclerc, lando Norris, Oscar piastri, Logan Sargeant, Lewis Hamilton

A/N: SO SORRY, I have 2 part time jobs which equals to a full time job and I only have one day off so…your girl has been busy. Part 2 with Carlos Sainz, Max Verstappen, and Daniel Ricciardo will be released in a few days and I’ll tag anyone who’s interested

Charles Leclerc

Charles asks you to be his valentine on February 1st, the man was READY. I believe he would have Leo wake you up and there would be a card pinned to his little sweater telling you to go to the kitchen.

You go into the kitchen and there are a bouquet of flowers and a few heart balloons. You then feel Charles’s hands on your waist as he hugs you from behind.

“Be my Valentine.” Charles said and of course you agree, thanking him for the surprise.

On the actual day, you’ll go somewhere pet friendly to include Leo. If it’s not too cold, you’ll go on the yacht, spend the day out in the ocean, he would have prepared (ordered) food for the two of you to eat, and maybe when it’s night time, you two stay out and there would be fireworks on display over the water.

“Did you plan that?” You asked, carrying also so he can see as well.

“Maybe. What’s the good of money if you can’t use it?” Charles asked rhetorically, making you giggle.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Charles said. He leaned in to kiss you only to get Leo licking his face. He laughed, took Leo out of your hands to place him on the floor. He leaned in to kiss you again but you stopped him.

“Im not kissing you like that.” You tell him. Charles then sprints to the yacht bathroom to wash his face. He Comes back with his face slightly damp but he grabs you by your waist to kiss you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mon coeur.” Charles said.

Lando Norris

With Lando, i believe he’s the type to surprise you the day of. If you work a 9 to 5 office job (like me), you get up, get dressed, and go to work. You and lando don’t live together but he knows your schedule.

Lando has paid for a flower delivery service to send a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers to your office at 9:10. By that time, you’re all settled in your desk, you’re logged into your computer, and all of a sudden you hear…

“Delivery for Y/N.” The delivery guy said.

“That’s me.” You get up from your desk to greet the man that’s carrying the bouquet thats already in a vase.

“Sign here.” You do so. “Thank you.” He leaves. You place the bouquet on your desk and read the note inside.

Happy Valentine’s Day, darling. More surprises to come, i love you.

You smiled reading the card and called Lando immediately.

“Hello, sunshine.” Lando greeted after one ring.

“You remembered.” You said

“Of course I did, I can’t forget Valentine’s Day now that i have a Valentine, now can I? You like the flowers?” Lando asked.

“Yes, oh my gosh, they’re beautiful.” You say with a smile on your face.

“That’s good to hear, you’ll be getting more surprises.” Lando said and hung up before you could ask.

20 minutes later there was another delivery but it was your favorite coffee order and a pastry from the cafe you always go to. When it was your lunch break, you got a delivery from your favorite restaurant. You called Lando to thank him.

When you went home after work, there he was in your apartment, wearing a suit, holding a single rose in one hand, and a dress bag in the other.

“What’s all this?” You asked him, putting your stuff down.

“We are going out to eat. The reservation is in 2 hours so that gives you enough time to shower of you want, and shower.” Lando said and you kissed him.

“You’re the best.” You took a shower before getting dressed in what lando bought you. It was the dress you were eyeing that one time you went out shopping with him for a new dress shirt to wear for the FÍA ceremony. You stepped out of the bedroom fully dressed and made up. Lando’s jaw dropped when he saw you.

“How do i look?” You asked

“Breathtaking. How did I get so lucky?” Lando asked before kissing you. “Let’s go.”

Oscar Piastri

Like Charles, he’ll ask you to be his Valentine like a week before the date, you woke up to Valentine’s Day cookies that Hattie definitely convinced him to make for you. Since you guys love together, you keep asking him where he’s taking you.

“It’s a surprise, darling.” Oscar would said and that makes you roll your eyes because you hate surprises.

Y’all live in London for work so Oscar had the great idea to take you to Pooh Corner in Hartfield, somewhere you always wanted to go but en ever found the time to. So he told you to put on a cute but casual dress, which you agreed to. He walked you to the car and told you to put on a blindfold.

“You’re kidding, right?” You asked him. Oscar shook his head.

“Nope, put it on, I told you it was a surprise.” Oscar said, handing you over the blindfold. You hesitantly put it on and when Oscar drove to Hartfield, you were fast asleep (car rides make me sleepy). When the cat stopped, Oscar gently woke you up

“We’re here, darling, you can take it off.” Oscar said, you stirred awake and took of the blindfold, the Sign saying “Pooh corner” directly in your face.

“Ah, no way, I can’t believe we’re here. Oh it’s gonna be so cute, thank you, sharkbait.” You said and he chuckled at your nickname for him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Love. Let’s go in, I’m starving.” Oscar said and they got out of the car, he obviously opened up the door for you, and helped you out. He was ever the gentleman.

Logan Sargeant

The beloved frat boy asked you to be his valentine over a game of pool when you were hanging out with his friends and their girlfriends. Because of the way he asked you, you’d think that Valentine’s Day with him wouldn’t be like a big deal to him.

You were wrong. As soon as you woke up, he was making breakfast for you, even learned to make a Frappuccino so you can have your morning sweet treat.

“Aw babe, you didn’t have to.” You said as you looked at the heart shaped pancakes.

“I wanted to, baby.” Logan said, giving you a quick peck on the lips before serving himself scrambled eggs.

When lunch time rolled around, he made you a panini to hold you over until he was finished cooking the Valentine’s Day dinner. He still had to buy the ingredients because he was busy looking for the recipe to your favorite meal. Once he bought it, he started prepping.

“Do you need help, babe?” You asked him.

“I got it, princess. Have a glass of wine.” Logan to,d you.

“Ooh, glass of wine while I watch you cook? Don’t mind if I do.” You said before you served yourself wine. It took Logan about 2 hours to prep and cook but it was worth it because he even lit a candle. “This is so romantic.”

“Only the best for you. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Logan said, kissing you over the counter.

Lewis Hamilton

Now Lewis is glamorous, okay? We love him for that, the man asked you to be his valentine while y’all went shopping. It was very casual too, but you loved it.

“Hey, while we’re here, why don’t you get your nails? I’ll give you the money.” Lewis said,

“Why would I get my nails done?” You asked because you usually don’t do it, preferring to paint your nails yourself.

“Don’t you want pretty nails when I take you out for Valentines Day?” Lewis asked. It took you a second to realize what he said but you smiled.

“I’d love to be your valentine, honey.” You said, giving him a peck on the cheek before taking his money to get your nails done. Obviously Lewis picked what color nails you should get, choosing a Ferrari red,

2 days before valentines day, he surprised you with hotel reservations in Paris. You were going to spend Valentine’s Day in Paris with Lewis and you were beyond excited. Lewis already packed your bag and all you needed to do was go downstairs because there was a car waiting to take you guys to the airport.

When you guys were in Paris, you went to the louvre, the Eiffel Tower, did all the touristy things because you never been to Paris. Later that evening, he took you to a restaurant, very good, the food was delicious, and over dinner, he gifted you a necklace.

“Oh my god, Lewis, it’s beautiful.” You said, kissing him. You pulled out your gift for him as well, it was a watch with a matching ring. “I know you have a lot but..”

“I love it, thank you.” Lewis said. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, it was the best one I could ask for.” You told him.

[f1cflcfic]

Just Because I Called You (Carlos Sainz) - part iv

pairing: carlos sainz jr x fem!reader

summary: y/n knows there's a reason for his contact details to be saved under 'do not interact', but one call does not mean you miss him.

genre: written au, brief 18+ content, yet more angst before we reach fluff

wordcount: 2.7k

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons

series, previous parts : part i | part ii | part iii

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Your fingers hover over your screen, the old text thread with Carlos still open. You hadn’t spoken to him since you’d slept together, again. It’d been 8 days – not that you were counting of course – since it had happened. Your friends still none the wiser, you’d deleted the last couple of messages to ensure it’d stay that way.

Besides, it’s weirdly nice to not see Dean’s text tarnish the rest of the conversation. To not be reminded of what you and Carlos had talked about, or the fact that something had felt different when he’d walked out the door. He’d taken his hoodie with him, and with it, your poorly hidden intentions of using it as an excuse to see him in the future.

Your friend bounces over from the kitchen and hands you another glass of wine, casually glancing at what you’re doing. She immediately shakes her head. “Don’t do it,” Lisa warns you. “Do not text that man.”

“I wasn’t going to,”  you lie, then pout as she snatches the phone out of your hands.  A wave of panic crashes over you when she goes to delete his contact detail altogether,  but you try your hardest not to let it show.  How are you meant to (not) contact him now?

“That’s harsh. He still has a key to my house, you know? I was hoping to get that back.”

Lisa just stares at you, unimpressed. “Change the locks. Get an extra spare key made. Girl, think in solutions – not problems. And he is a problem.”

He is, to you. Because he doesn’t play by the rules you’ve familiarised yourself with over the years, and breaks down your walls so easily. Because he makes you feel things so deeply that it scares you. So yes, he is a problem, but maybe not as much as you’ve led your best friend to believe.

After all, it was you who’d pushed him away when he asked you to meet his family, when he took you on holiday to his childhood home, when he wanted you at all his races.

You were the one who’d called it a mistake, something you didn’t mean when you’d accidentally said “I love you” first. Who’d made it your mission to interrupt Carlos when he’d intended to say it back – because you didn’t want to risk him not meaning it.

You were the one who’d said you didn’t like flowers, when you’d seen them in Carlos’ apartment. And you’d panicked, too scared of the thought that he’d never planned on giving them to you. So you’d wanted to strike first, protect yourself from disappointment.

You were the one who’d insisted that it was fine to just coopt sponsor events as dates, because it was “more practical”. You hadn’t known how much it asked of you to play the perfect couple all the time, how much time they’d require from Carlos, and how much time you’d effectively spend alone each night. When you had figured that out, it’d felt way too late to complain about it. And Carlos had tried to tell you, but you’d been so adamant – he’d relented.

Just like how he’d relented and stopped trying to say the words “I love you”, even though it was right there in every kiss he pressed to your skin. Or how he’d never bought you flowers, but had gotten you LEGO flower sets to build together instead. He’d always found ways to burrow his way deeper into your heart, without pushing you beyond your limit.

The only exception had been his family – that had been non-negotiable. Carlos spent his time-off with them in Mallorca, and it had been so obvious to him that they’d be there, that he hadn’t thought to tell you. He hadn’t given you the opportunity to deny him this.

And you’d hated how much you’d loved it.

So from time to time, just to prove to yourself that you could do without, you’d make up excuses when he’d go visit his family. And he never pushed, even though you could see the disappointment etched into his features every single time you did it.

He hadn’t wanted to scare you off with things or feelings you weren’t brave enough to face yet. But in spite of all that, you’d pushed him away anyways. Because those scary three words that had only escaped you once – they’d been threatening to spill out of every pore of your existence ever since. And all you’d known for certain was that Carlos would always leave to go somewhere you couldn’t follow. Even if perhaps maybe you’d made it so yourself.

You knew very well how much your resistance and hesitance had hurt Carlos along the way. And Carlos deserved better.

You’re not a good person, you think. Because you don’t deserve to miss him now, either – and yet here you are. Losing Carlos may have hurt, but loving him is so much worse.

“I miss him,” you whisper more to yourself than your friend, eyes downcast. Lisa wraps her arms around you, and you can’t help but frown. It feels deceitful to have her comforting you without knowing the full truth.

“It’s okay to miss him and still move on, Y/N.”

The problem is, what if you don’t want to move on?

“I wish that I could take it all back,” you tell her instead, hiding in the hoodie you’re wearing. It’s not as soft as Carlos’ sweater, nor does it smell of him. The realisation leaves you disappointed every single time.

“No you don’t,” she says with a sad smile.

“No, I don’t,” you echo, then sigh.

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There’s two more weeks to go before the season starts again. It’s been circled in blue on your calendar for months. How things have changed since you’d first put marker on paper. Now, the date just seems to be haunting you. Turns out that even if you’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the other person to give up – it doesn’t make it hurt any less when it eventually does happen.

Lisa had already threatened to throw the calendar out once she’d caught you staring at it, but it’s like a drug you can’t refuse. You need to know just how much time is slipping through your fingers, how many hours you’ve spent exactly agonising over what has happened, and how many more you have to make up your mind.

Maybe you’re wrong, after all. Maybe losing Carlos does hurt more than loving him does. Maybe – if you’d given him a chance, he’d have proven to you that after leaving he always came back.

A sigh escapes your lips, as you tear your gaze away from the calendar. “Come on, Y/N, you can do this,” you say out loud, trying to focus on the spreadsheet in front of you.

There’s something not quite right about the budget for one of the projects you oversee, but it’s been hard to figure out. Probably because you keep finding yourself distracted by stupid calendars, or googling Spanish phrases you think you might remember Ana saying to you a few weeks ago. You have a right to know what she’d wanted to convey, didn’t you?

It's unimportant and stupid, but it’s one of the few ways that you can justify any sort of proximity to Carlos to yourself right now, so you’ll take it. If that makes you pathetic, pathological, and a walking paradox? So be it.

Your heart skips a beat when your eyes land on a term midway down the page that’s achingly familiar.

Nena.

Nenita.

You don’t need to read what it means, as you vividly remember Carlos kissing the words and its translation into your skin. He’d tried very hard not to call you that since the break, but it had escaped him the other night.

You’d heard it. You’d been drunk and emotional, and all you’d done was accuse him of not fighting for you. And yet he’d taken care of you and called you nena – like he used to. Before you started building your walls even higher, trying to repair every hole he put in your defences. Before you’d used the one thing he couldn’t change against him.

And when he’d made sure you were safe and comfortable, you’d slept together. Because it’s maybe the only way you still feel capable of expressing just how much you feel for him, without having to put words to it. Because naked with him in bed still feels so much less vulnerable than allowing full emotional intimacy.

The dark night had made it easier not to have to see the defeat on his face, when he’d said he wouldn’t ask you for something you weren’t willing to give. But the problem is, you’ve come to realise these past few days. The problem is, that you’d probably give him everything. Except he hadn’t asked. Because he’d loved you enough not to.

It’s ironic, that what had allowed you to fall for Carlos, and get so close at all – his patience, never pushing you for things you weren’t ready for – had turned out to be your downfall as well.

“Fuck,” you mutter as you feel your eyes burn. A part of you wants to give in and just have a full-on cry, but another part of you just wishes you could channel the hurt into hyperfocus instead.

As you debate what would really be the better option at 9PM on a Thursday, there’s a sudden noise coming from the hallway. Tears instantly forgotten, you hold your breath as you turn to face the door to the living room. Are you really about to be robbed in your own house as well, just to add to the misery and make it a trifecta of torture? Lisa had offered to stay in the other bedroom just last night, but you'd told her that it was fine. Mostly because you couldn't bear the fact that she was set on getting you over Carlos, for all the wrong reasons. But she'd never show up unannounced, and most importantly - she doesn't even have a key to the place. There’s no one else in Monaco who does, except Carlos – and you’re not nearly delusional enough to get your hopes up. He wouldn't.

Your heartrate spikes, as the handle of the door rattles.

“Honey I’m homeeeee!”

The door bursts open, and in walks the original other occupant of your apartment – your best friend. “Sam! What the actual fuck? You’re supposed to be in Thailand!”

She laughs as she throws her arms around you, then promptly sinks into the couch.

“Yes, but then a mutual acquaintance of ours who shall not be named reached out, and said you might need some moral support. So, he arranged a flight, and here I am.”

Too stunned to speak, all you can do is follow her lead and slowly lower yourself to sit right next to her. “What do you mean?”

She rolls her eyes, face more tan than it had been since you’d last seen her in person, but still so achingly familiar – as if she’d never left. “I mean that your ex-boyfriend paid for my flight, and I wasn’t about to deny him his misplaced sense of altruism nor myself that very much deserved business class seat.”

You blink once, twice. “Carlos reached out to you?”

She nods as if it’s obvious, then shoots you a playful glare. “Aren’t you incredibly impressed with me for keeping this a secret, and also for not being offended that you didn’t tell me anything?”

“You were in Thailand, I didn’t want to burden you," you retort, still reeling from the casual way in which she'd just said Carlos had been in touch with her. He'd gone through the effort of contacting not just anyone, but your best friend. But when? And why? Because this time, it was really done?

You're already spiralling, but then you realise Sam's right there, still looking at you - waiting for you to expand.

"Besides, I really didn’t want to hear you say I told you so,” you tell her, a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

If anything, Sam knows too much. Whereas Lisa has been a great friend and truly is one of your best friends in Monaco, she's no Sam.

Sam had grown up with you.

She’d been the one deciding to move to Monaco on a whim. She’d been the one who’d seen you fall into traps of your own making every single time, and had then asked a year later if you’d wanted to join her. And so you had.

You’d built a new life for yourself, had gotten a new job, made new friends – including Lisa – and eventually found yourself a new boyfriend. And then Sam had left. She had taken a sabbatical off work, and had decided to travel to South-East Asia, saying she'd missed out on the experience when she was still in college. She'd asked if you'd wanted to come along, but you’d been spending most of your time with Carlos. You had a life, a job you didn't want to give up - as much as you were second-guessing that now with the spreadsheet from hell still lurking on your laptop.

And Sam had been so happy for you, but she'd also left just after witnessing you crash out over Carlos making space in his closet for you. She'd told you to try to not fight it. To just let it all happen. And you had tried to take her advice. You'd secretly enjoyed it all. Up until it had started to feel too real, too perfect, and you’d wanted too much.

She just gives you a look. “I was going to find out at one point, Y/N. Whether or not you’d have had the time to dress up the truth – you know I still would’ve found out, I still would’ve said I told you so, and then I’d still have been here to support you. Like disgusting cough syrup.”

You snort. It’s not the first time Sam makes that comparison, and her expression brightens at seeing you grin. “And I’m feeling very generous, so I’ll forgive you for not calling me yourself. Mostly because I did text you that I was doing a silent retreat and wouldn’t have my phone on me,” she looks a little sheepish at that.

You both know that more than anything, the fact you didn’t want her to know about the break-up in the first place is incredibly telling. It’s as close to an admission of guilt - of regret - as you’ve gotten.

So you sigh, and sink into the cushions even further. Sam patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, wraps an arm around you as you eventually find yourself relaying the past couple of weeks to her. This time no holds barred, full transparency.

“I think I fucked up, Sam. I think I really fucked up,” you confess finally, tears staining your cheeks.

She wordlessly hands you another tissue, a determined glint in her eyes.

“Alright. So maybe you did. You’ll make it right. We will make it right. Do you love him?”

A part of you wants to deny it, wants to immediately curl up into a ball and deflect – doesn’t want to admit someone had gotten so close to you. Doesn’t want to admit you’d want someone that close to you.

But it’s time to be a little courageous now, you think. If you want to fix this, you’ll have to be. So you swallow away the lump that’s formed in your throat, and give her a small, but terrified nod.

Sam snorts. “Okay, we will work on your delivery, but I believe you. Now, do you love him enough to stop thinking he’s going to break your heart? And to stop hurting him? Even if that means you agree to walk away?”

New tears immediately well up in your eyes at the thought of actually never talking to Carlos again, never seeing him again, never existing together again. But you also know that as harsh as it is, Sam is right. It might very well be that Carlos taking the hoodie you’d once bought him – it might mean that he didn’t want to give you a reason to see him again. Maybe – maybe that’s what he needs. And hadn’t he always given you what you’d thought you needed? So, with newfound resolve, you nod. If he needs you to leave, then that’s okay. It’s okay, because you need him to be okay. And for once, you should consider what he needs first.

“Great,” she pats your knee, then stands up. “With that settled, we should relax, because I'm exhausted physically, and you're exhausted emotionally. So I say we grab our blankets and get cozy here. Starting with that delicious red wine he introduced you to and I know you still keep stocked, because you’re terribly predictable.”

You look up at her and smile. “Hey, Sam? Thank you. For being my cough syrup.”

“Anytime.”

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚ A/N: I mean, I couldn't not upload something on Valentine's Day!

Let me know what you think <3 Likes, comments, reblogs, asks are all appreciated.

Part v is now available here.

want to be added to the taglist? send me an ask!

[thebitchesterbrothers]

100% convinced that Hob would wear this every single night just to annoy Dream. And maybe to provoke him to rip it off his body

[odoraful]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄.ᐟ

what happens when you don't use their pet name to call them?

⟡ content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel x gn!reader; more dialogue heavy; silly and cute

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ZAYNE ⟡

“Can you help me put this on, Zayne?”

From the reflection in the mirror, you tried not to react at the twist in his brow and the momentary confusion in his eyes. Wordlessly, he moved behind you, fingers taking the necklace out of your hand. With his gaze focused on the task before him, you could see him open his mouth, hesitating to speak.

“Did I do something wrong?” he questioned.

Zayne’s deft hands carefully laid the chain around your neck, centering the pendent between your collarbones.

You plastered on your most innocent expression, despite the twinge of guilt you felt at his question.

“Hm? Why do you ask?”

Swiftly, he clasped the ends of the chain together. His eyes flicked towards yours in the mirror.

“You’re calling me by my first name. I thought pet names were an important step in a relationship for you.”

You nodded. “Yes, Zayne, I do think it’s an important step.”

His eyes narrowed at your continual uncharacteristic responses.

Folding his arms, he mused aloud. “It took you some time to drop the title ‘doctor’ for me and to just use my name. After we became official, you were quick to call me ‘love’.”

You fiddled with your necklace, trying to, impossibly, force away the heat from your face.

“So, either I did something to make you upset, or”—he leaned in close to you, the side of his face almost touching yours—“you’re playing a trick on me.”

You gave a mock frown. He cocked his head to the side, awaiting your response.

“Okay, okay, it was a prank.” Sighing, you surrendered to his deductions. “I wanted to see how you’d react, but you saw right through me,” you mumbled.

His lips quirked. “I’ve known you for long enough to figure these things out.”

Wanting to wipe off the amused look he had on his face, you quickly planted a kiss on his cheek. His face turned into surprise. He chuckled, shaking his head at your triumphant smile.

“Thank you for helping me, my love."

SYLUS ⟡

“Sylus, could you play that new record you bought?”

You called from the sofa. Standing by the record player, he turned to face you. The offence on his face was unmistakable as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Sylus?” he scoffed. “We both know that’s not what you call me.”

Your brows furrowed, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about? Isn’t that your name?”

“Sweetie,” he levelled a look of scepticism at you, “that hasn’t been my name for the past month we’ve been together.”

“I still don’t know what you mean, Sylus.”

He paused. Gears turned in his head trying to unpack what was happening, much like he would do when reading the truthfulness of a dealer during a bargain.

“Y/N.”

You’ve never heard your own name being said in such a serious manner. Perhaps you got a taste of your own medicine.

“I’m not particularly fond of lose-lose situations.” The softness in his tone made you feel weak. “You can tell me if I’ve done something to annoy you. I won’t be angry.”

“Not at all!” you quickly blurted out. Unable to hide it any longer, you confessed. “You haven’t done anything to annoy me. I was just trying to pull a small prank.”

All the tension visibly released from his body. A relieved sigh escaped him. “You really do play some dangerous games, kitten.”

Playfulness returned to his voice. “Now then, how will you correct your mistake?”

“Honey,” you drawled out each syllable, making it sound as syrupy as the nickname itself, “could you play that new record you bought now?”

Sylus couldn’t help but laugh at your exaggeration. “Why of course.”

XAVIER ⟡

“Xavier, do you want to try this?”

Subtly glancing at his reaction from the kitchen, you saw his face immediately fall into a pout. The look was fatal, and it took all the willpower you had not to drop the ruse right then and there.

“That’s not my name,” he answered.

“What do you mean?” you chuckled, continuing to put icing on the sugar cookies you baked. “Of course it is!”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted.

Placing his book down, he walked to stand at your side by the counter. You avoided his eye contact, pretending that nothing was amiss.

Resting a hand under his chin, he began to think. “You usually call me bunny, sweetheart, sunshine, or darling.”

Your jaw dropped in amused shock. “You remember all the names I’ve called you?”

His mouth twitches. “There are some more, but… they might be a bit embarrassing to say aloud right now.”

That was enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.

“Xavier!” Your face turned pink as you slapped his shoulder. There was no force behind the hit, but enough to convey your embarrassment.

“You did it again. You used the wrong name.” He stuck his bottom lip out.

You gently poked at his cheek, trying to lift the corner of his lip upwards. “Come on, don’t be sad darling.”

Immediately, he brightened before you.

“It was just a joke I saw couples do online. I wanted to see how you’d react.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “And was my reaction satisfactory?”

“I think it was,” you smiled at him, "but it’s a shame I didn’t film it, it would’ve made for a good Moments post.”

He shook his head. “But, the nicknames we use are only for us.”

The finished cookie in your hand had a bite suddenly taken from it as Xavier leaned down to have a taste.

“I don’t want anyone else to know.”

RAFAYEL ⟡

“Are you ready to go yet, Rafayel?”

He continued to hum to himself, completely ignoring you. You folded your arms as you watched him busy himself with something trivial. He flung open a random cupboard and inspected what appeared to be an assortment of spare art supplies.

“Rafayel,” you called again.

He then turned his attention to the fishbowl in the centre of the room, where a small orange fish darted around.

“Reddie, do you hear something?” he asked, gazing so earnestly into the bowl. This fish paused its movement and stared back at his owner.

“Rafayel~” you sang his name aloud this time, extending the last syllable.

He gasped, apparently receiving some confirmation from Reddie.

“You hear something too? Thank god. I was thinking there must be something wrong with my ears.”

Surveying the room around him, Rafayel intentionally looked past you standing barely a few metres from him, tapping your foot against the wooden floorboards of his studio.

“It sounds like”—he continued—“some kind of voice. Someone familiar to me, but I can’t make out who it is.”

“Rafayel!” you shouted his name between fits of laughter. Only he could respond to your jokes with his own dramatics.

He sucked in a breath in puzzlement. “I wonder who this person is calling out to.”

“Baby,” you finally conceded, “I’m talking to you!”

It seemed like he couldn’t keep up the act either, as he started laughing with you.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, moving towards you and linking your arm with his. “Otherwise, Reddie and I would have been searching for this phantom voice for the rest of the day.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[classyrbf]

YOU'RE PREGNANT! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...how the jjk men(toji, gojo, geto, nanami, choso) act when you’re 9 months pregnant and ready to pop

INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader is pregnant (obvi), mention of mood swings, cravings, emotional reader, jjk men being great dads

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

TOJI

toji has already dealt with this kind of thing before when it came to megumi, but it’s been so long that he’s almost forgotten what it was like. You’re waddling around the house, a stank look on your face as you stare at him. “Yes?” He questions, eyebrows raised. “I want food,” you simply answer. “Okay, what do you want?” He asks. And when you tell him you’re not sure, he lets out a long sigh because he knows this is gonna end in you getting emotional. You’ll complain your back hurts, your feet hurt, and then you’ll end up cursing him out for putting a baby in you. So all he does is walks over to you, and hugs you because he’d rather do that than get into a stupid argument about food. “Toji!” You cry into his arms. “I’m just so hungry and I don’t know what to eat!” You sniffle. To help with your problem, he starts listing off every fast food restaurant and food he could think of in hopes you’d find one appealing enough. “Chinese food?” He shrugs. You gasp with excitement. “Ugh, yes! Me and the baby could go for some orange chicken!” You smile. Toji just chuckles, “making the call right now, sweetheart.” He watches as you waddle over to the couch, smiling like a kid in a candy store.

GOJO

ever since he found out you were pregnant, he was at the stores buying whatever supplies he saw, doesn’t matter if you needed it or not. And till this day, when you’re about a few weeks from popping, he’s still buying the baby things. “What do you think of this, eh?” He smirks, holding up a onesie that says “my dad is the best”. “You’re gonna spoil her rotten, is what I think,” you groan as you reach into the bag to see what else he bought for your daughter. “More toys?” You hold up a fake set of plastic keys. Gojo snatched them from you. “I’ll have you know that she will be learning life skills at a very young age, thank you very much,” he scoffed. All you did was laugh, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Your daughter’s room was filled to the brim with clothes, toys, blankets, you were starting to wonder if you had any more room. “I can already tell she’s going to be a daddy’s girl,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your belly. “Yes she is,” Gojo leaned in towards your very plump belly, “isn’t that right?” He placed a kiss on your stomach.

NANAMI

nanami is the type that doesn’t let you do a damn thing by yourself. You’re reach for something to high on the shelf, he’s sprinting towards you, ready to be at your service. “Be careful,” he says, rubbing your back. “Kento, I got it,” you chuckle. His eyes are always on you, watching your every move. Especially when you’re in public, he hates when people get too close to you. He knows others don’t watch their surroundings and could easily bump into you. “Ken!” You shout from the bedroom. “Yes?” He peeks his head around the corner. “Can you help me get my shoes on, I can’t even reach,” you pout. Within seconds he’s on his knees, slipping on your sandals, and tying them around your ankle. He will even go as far as to paint your toes if you forgot because he knows how much you hate not having them done. Like I said, he won’t let you do a thing by yourself. “Thank you, Ken,” you kiss his lips.

GETO

geto literally pampers you. I’m not saying he acts like nanami, but I’m saying that he makes your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. “Sugu, baby, can you rub my feet? They’re swollen.” You frown. “Of course.” He grabs the lotion and casually massages your feet while you’re both watching a movie, and literally over the course of your pregnancy he’s become the best masseuse ever. He’ll also randomly creep up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before lifting your belly, feeling the weight off of your back. “Feel better, mama?” He kisses your cheek. “So much better.” You nod, closing your eyes as you embrace the moment. You’ve even found it hard to shower while being pregnant and geto takes it upon himself to help you, albeit jumping in the shower with you or sitting on the edge of the tub while you’re in the bath. “Is the water too hot?” He rubs the soapy water over your shoulders. “It’s perfect.”

CHOSO

I’m sorry but choso is clueless. Not in a bad way, but in like a panicky way. You’re an emotional wreck through your pregnancy, moods swings like crazy. “Can you just get out please?!” You’re annoyed with him, bothered about the littlest thing ever and then in the next two minutes you’re walking out the room just crying and apologizing to him, kissing his cheek. He has no idea what the hell is going on, and you’d think he’d learn after nine months, but no. All he can is just sit there and comfort you. “It’s fine,” he assures. He gets your favorite food that you’ve been craving for the past two weeks, eating it non stop and then within a split second you’re gagging, pushing the food away. “Oh my gosh, Choso! Please throw it away, it tastes so bad.” You gag again. “But…I…you were just eating this yesterday…?” He’s says, confused before throwing the bowl of food in the garbage. Quite literally doesn’t understand anything, just confused to all hell, but he’s trying his best.

[hairmetal666]

It's Wayne that goes with him when he buys the truck. He offers to go with him. Uses one of his few days off to do it.

On the way there, it strikes Steve that his own father would never do this with him. The man hadn't even bought the Beemer himself, just sent an assistant to take care of it. And here Wayne is, driving them to a used car dealership, humming along to some old country-western song on the radio.

It takes three dealerships for them to find it, but Wayne is patient, stoic, takes careful note of the cars that catch Steve's interest. He asks the salesman if he can pop the hood, peers at the engine, kicks the tires. He asks questions Steve would never think of, about adjustments to the odometer, history of repairs, if it was in any accidents.

Steve never considered wanting a truck, doesn't think it's his style. But he's walking the lot at the third dealership, and he sees it. It's a Chevy, blue and white, a few years old. It's in good condition, but was obviously used for work.

He walks towards it.

"You like this one?" Wayne asks. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it.

"Yeah, it's--yeah," Steve nods.

Wayne does his checks, asks his questions, gives a nod of approval.

It's the first car he takes on a test drive.

He barely has it on the road before he knows it's the one. It surprises him. He always thought he was his true self in the BMW, but now--the engine has a throaty grumble to it, can feel it rumbling through his foot on the pedal, and it's--it's--perfect.

"This it?" Wayne asks as they pull back into the lot.

"Yeah, yes. It's. Yeah."

"Well, let's get to hagglin."

Wayne is, of course, an expert haggler. By the end of it, he's got a couple thousand dollars knocked off the asking price, Steve more than within budget.

They drive back to Wayne's little house on the outskirts of Hawkins, the one the government gave him, the sun just disappearing behind the horizon.

Eddie stands on the small porch, wide smile on his face.

"Wow, Wayne," he says. He wraps an arm around his uncle's shoulders. "You really did a number on him."

"It's a solid vehicle, Ed."

"Never took you for a truck man, Harrington," Eddie teases.

"Can't you see how gorgeous she is?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his smile not faltering. "Wow, it's true love then."

"Looks like it. Wanna come for a ride?"

There's only a second where Eddie hesitates, but then he's running inside to grab shoes, tripping on his way to the truck.

---

It happened like this:

Eddie Munson died in the Upside Down in 1986.

He's reanimated by Vecna for the final battle, a puppet to do his master's bidding.

When they win, when Vecna is dead in a pile of dessicated vines, they can't find Eddie. Scour the Upside Down for him and come up empty. They have to assume he's dead, like everything else there, kept alive only by Vecna's power. None of them want to leave without him, but the world is destabilized, they can't stay, El has to close the gates.

That night, Steve pulls the battle vest from under his bed, sobs into the blood-soaked denim, the grief from the loss just as fresh as March of '86.

He and the kids, they go visit Wayne. It becomes a regular thing.

Two weeks after the end of Vecna, Wayne calls him. He's panicked, near hysterical, nothing like the man Steve's come to know.

He goes, fast as he can, to Wayne's house. All the lights are off, the front door ajar, and he runs, clattering into the living room.

Wayne is in the recliner, face pale and strained, and on the couch--on the couch--

Eddie Munson.

His hair's lank, his skin sallow, the light in his eyes dim, but it's him. Unquestionably.

Steve does the only thing he can think of, calls Hopper. He shows up a little while later with El and Will.

"I called Owens," Hopper says.

"Why would you do that?" Steve is angry.

"Look, kid, I get it. But none of us are equipped to deal with this."

He's right, so they wait.

It doesn't take the doctor, El, and Will long to figure that Eddie is Eddie, even though his heart beats a little slow and his skin's always cold and his blood is slightly the wrong color. He's still at least 75% human, and that's enough.

Only those six people know. It's dangerous to tell anyone else when the world still thinks Eddie Munson is a serial murderer. Owens asks for time to clear his name, and they have no choice but to agree.

After two days, Steve thinks he should give Eddie and Wayne space, but as he rises to go, Eddie's hand grips his wrist. "Stay?" He asks. Steve doesn't leave.

It's hard, keeping the secret from the rest of the kids, Robin. He wants to tell her, more than anything. About how they share a bed most nights, how he's memorizing the shape of Eddie's body in a way he shouldn't, how the gentle desire turns to profound longing--but Eddie's safety is the most important thing, so Steve keeps it to himself.

---

They go out in Steve's truck almost every night, always on backroads. It's the only way Eddie can leave the house.

It's Steve's favorite thing, the only time Eddie seems truly happy. They roll the windows down, turn the music up, and whip around deserted farm roads. Sometimes, Eddie will stick his head out the window, shout out into the night.

Steve is in love with him.

He has no idea if Eddie feels the same, figures it doesn't matter. He'll harbor this flame for the rest of his life without complaint because Eddie is alive.

He thinks he's done a good job at hiding his feelings, thinks he's able to avert his gaze, hide his blush, when Eddie comes out of his room in only his boxers, thinks Eddie hasn't noticed how Steve's eyes linger when they share joints lying in the bed of the truck.

Except tonight--tonight--they're driving back home, and Eddie, he's been quiet, distant, fidgety, and now he reaches out to turn down the radio, which has Steve's stomach in a knot.

"You--Steve, you've been so great. To me and Wayne, and--you're family, you know? To us, you're--but--"

And Steve thinks this is it, that Eddie noticed, that he's being let down easy, and he wants to throw up, cry, but Eddie's still talking.

"You have a life to live, right? You're--you're 23 and you're not stuck here like me, and I know Robin is ready to go and the kids are--they're going to college soon, and you shouldn't stay here for me, I'm--"

"What?" Steve says.

"What?" Eddie echoes.

"I don't want to leave," Steve says.

"But--"

"Where you are is where I want to be."

"I'm in love with you," Eddie says. Cover his face with his hands.

Steve pulls the truck to the shoulder. His hands are shaking.

"You love me?"

"I'm sorry." His apology is muffled. "I didn't mean--I know this fucks up--"

"Eddie." He says, soft. "Look at me?"

One deep brown eye peers up at him. "Eddie, I--I'm hopelessly in love with you."

Both eyes now, mouth a bright curve. "You mean it, Harrington?"

"Fuck, can't get enough of you, Munson."

"You know, if I thought for a second anything like was possible, I would've--fuck, I would've made a move ages ago. I would've--"

"Shut-up," he whispers against Eddie's mouth. "Kiss me."

---

And later, Robin will ask if he has someone, and he'll say yes, and she'll ask, soft, "is it him?" and he'll nod, and they'll both cry.

Later, a news report, Eddie Munson's body was recovered from the bottom of Sattler Quarry, bearing the same wounds as Vecna's other victims.

Later, Chief Powell will hold a press conference, say they're looking for a man named Henry Creel, wanted on suspicion of killing his mother and sister and the aggravated assault of his father with an MO that matches the 1986 killing spree.

Later, Steve will shave Eddie's head, Eddie crying softly as the hair tumbles to the bathroom floor. Steve will kiss the tears away, one by one, say, "I know it's hard to let go. But we'll move away, to a place where people say 'you look like that guy, that Eddie Munson,' and you'll say, 'I get that a lot,' and your hair will grow back, if you want it to."

Later, they'll invite everyone to Wayne's , everyone except Dustin, busy in Boston with an internship, and Eddie will be there to welcome them.

Later, he and Eddie will take the truck, drive up to Boston. And Eddie, he'll spy Dustin first, walks up to him and says, "Pretty metal tattoos, little dude," and they'll all cry until Dustin stops to yell at them for keeping the secret.

Later, Steve and Eddie will leave MIT--Dustin screeching that they have to call him every night promptly at 8pm still ringing in their ears-- in search of their future.

[fangdokja]

How do you escape a yandere harem? Asking for a very distressed friend (me).

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Word Count. 1,128

♡ A/N. Basically me before I got married. lol. Yes. I hated anything romance both fiction and reality. So I like this concept haha. Also, I'm seriously debating on making this an actual novella. Maybe. I still have to finish my requests, but maybe.

You fucking hate romance.

Not in a casual, indifferent way. No, your hatred for romance is the kind that borders on seething disgust. The kind that makes you want to puke when two characters start making heart eyes at each other. The kind that makes you physically cringe when someone dares utter the words ‘soulmate’ or ‘true love’ in your general direction. Romance is a shit genre. A putrid, festering landfill of emotional drivel. You’d rather watch a slow-burn psychological horror where the protagonist’s sanity unravels, or a thriller where the final girl barely survives a slasher massacre, than sit through a single damn love confession.

So naturally, because fate fucking hates you, you get isekai’d into an otome game.

Not just any otome game. A reverse harem, noble court intrigue, “will you find true love?” kind of otome game. You wake up inside the body of some unfortunate, aristocratic protagonist, and your first instinct is to smash your head against the nearest marble pillar in the desperate hope that blunt force trauma will eject you from this nightmare. It doesn’t work.

Worse, you are surrounded by them.

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who is everything you loathe—tall, broad-shouldered, charismatic. A born leader, they say. His bloodline has ruled for centuries. A tyrant in the making. His voice is deep, his smile a calculated weapon. A future emperor whose touch alone makes noblewomen swoon and fall at his feet like wilting flowers. He looks at you like you’re already his consort. You look at him like you’re about to stab him in the eye.

“Dearest,” he says, rolling the word across his tongue with insufferable arrogance, “what an honor it must be for you, to be chosen by the future ruler of this land.”

You stare at him. “I’d rather be executed for treason.”

His smile doesn’t waver. It only deepens. “How rebellious.”

You realize, with mounting horror, that he finds this amusing. Worse, attractive.

♡ Yandere! Archduke is the kind of man who has never once heard the word ‘no’ and taken it seriously. A bastard-born noble who climbed his way into power with sheer audacity and an overwhelming lack of self-preservation. The type to talk you in circles until you don’t even remember what you were arguing about in the first place. He’s always smirking, always one step ahead, and always so damn annoying.

“You wound me, darling,” he drawls, lounging against the silk cushions of your carriage like he owns it (because he does own it; he bought it specifically for your ‘dates’). “I’m a man of reason. I can be persuaded to let you go.”

You narrow your eyes. “Really?”

His smirk widens. “Of course. All you have to do is admit that you want me.”

Your expression darkens like storm clouds rolling in before a disaster. You exhale slowly. “I hope you contract the plague.”

He laughs. The bastard laughs. “Oh, sweetheart. That sharp tongue of yours only makes me want you more.”

You contemplate drowning yourself in the nearest fountain.

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage doesn’t need to chase you. You’re already trapped. A cold-blooded intellectual, a prodigy whose intelligence surpasses entire generations of scholars. He is the advisor to the throne, the master of arcane arts, the genius whose apathy is only rivaled by his obsession. And for some unholy reason, he has chosen to dedicate that obsession to you.

“There is no logic in your resistance,” he states, his sharp calculated eyes watching your every move like a scientist dissecting a particularly fascinating specimen. “The probability of you escaping me is exactly zero.”

You glare at him from inside the magic barrier he’s sealed you in. “Fuck you.”

His lips twitch. “Inevitable.”

You scream internally.

♡ Yandere! Demon King is the worst of them all. The nightmare incarnate. The shadow that stretches across the battlefield, that turns the bravest warriors into weeping corpses. Seemingly peaceful, but whatever shred of righteousness he once had is buried beneath millennia of bloodshed. He watches you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. You feel like prey. You are prey.

“I do not comprehend your reluctance,” he murmurs, tilting his head as though studying a curious, fragile thing. His fingers brush your cheek, and you physically recoil, like his touch might dissolve you from the inside out.

He does not retract his hand.

“You are mine,” he says simply.

“No, I am not,” you snap back, the venom in your voice laced with pure, unfiltered rage.

A pause. He exhales softly. Then he smiles.

“Ah,” he whispers. “A challenge.”

Your entire body locks up with dread. You suddenly understand, with absolute clarity, that you are fucked.

────────────

Your days are spent avoiding unwanted confessions, sidestepping ambushes disguised as ‘chance encounters,’ and resisting the overwhelming urge to commit arson. Your nights are spent planning elaborate escape routes that never come to fruition because one of the four nightmares always finds you first.

You try everything.

Poisoning the Crown Prince’s wine? He drinks it, licks his lips, and says, “Sweet. Did you make this yourself?”

Framing the Archduke for treason? He fakes his own death and then shows up in your chambers that same night, grinning like a lunatic. “Miss me?”

Teleporting away from the Supreme Mage? He rewinds time. You wake up in the same bed, with his arms around your waist.

Selling your soul to escape the Demon King? He is the one who answers.

You are doomed.

And worst of all?

It’s still a romance game.

You watch, helpless, as the ‘Affection Points’ rise every time you breathe in their general direction.

You don’t want a ‘Happy Ending.’

You want a cease and desist order.

And yet, the game continues.

Your suffering is eternal.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

[chuluoyi]

✎ forever

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times he asked you to marry him

genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo

note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Why don't we get married?"

The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.

His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.

"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"

A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"

You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—

"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."

Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.

"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"

There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?

You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.

Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.

"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."

When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.

The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.

"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"

This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"

"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."

"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"

"I said no."

"Why?!"

You sighed. "You're dead drunk."

"What will—hic—make you say yes?"

You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.

"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

"Marry me."

The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.

And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.

Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.

At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.

. . .

He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.

He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.

Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.

"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.

As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.

And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—

—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.

But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.

You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?

. . .

This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.

"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."