#i have a soft spot for these kinds of people

[ipushhimback]

How about something with Max and he’s like always grumpy and rude but never to the reader and just has a soft spot 😩 love me some grumpy x sunshine

i am so extremely sorry this took me so so long so please forgive me. also i tried my best but i am not completely happy with it. anyway, enjoy reading it <3

a softie

pairing: max verstappen x reader warnings: none word count: 1.2 k summary: max takes you to the paddock for the first time <3

“Are you sure I’m allowed to come with you to the race? I don’t want everyone to hate me when I’m there. And won’t I be in the team’s way?” you asked Max as you looked at yourself in the mirror, making sure your outfit didn’t look too bad.

“Of course you are. I’m sure there’ll be lots of other people around. And you’ll love the others. I heard Charles’ girlfriend, Alex, is going to be there, and Carmen, George’s girlfriend, as well. I haven’t talked to them a lot, but I know they’re nice. Also, you won’t be in anyone’s way. And if you’re bored, you can hang out in another team’s garage with Alex or Carmen,” Max said as he walked over and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“I’m just worried… You know how I am. Too much overthinking happening in my brain. What if they think I’m too much? I always talk a lot and never shut up. And I laugh at the worst moments!” you said, remembering how you’d laughed last week when your niece dropped her ice cream on the street.

You tilted your head back against Max’s shoulder.

“No, babe. They’ll love you for it. I promise,” your boyfriend said, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

“Pinky promise?” you asked with a pout, holding your pinky out to him.

Max rolled his eyes affectionately but linked his pinky with yours.

“Pinky promise,” he said, smiling down at you. “Also, you look absolutely stunning.”

You grinned as you looked back in the mirror. You were wearing a new jean skirt and a blouse you’d bought just last week.

“Are you sure it’s not too basic?” you asked again.

“A hundred percent. You’ll be the prettiest woman in the paddock,” he said, giving your waist a final, gentle squeeze. “Now let’s go.”

***

A little later, you were walking through the paddock at Max’s side, holding his hand tightly.

“I already see it coming. I’m going to get lost here. Why are there already so many people? It’s so early! Don’t they want to sleep in like normal people on a Sunday morning?”

“Nope. They want to see us drivers and hope to get autographs and photos,” Max said with a chuckle.

At that moment, someone approached you and Max. You recognized him from a few races you’d watched—Lando.

“Mate! Who’s that?” he asked, greeting Max with a firm clap on the back.

“My girlfriend.”

You had to suppress a laugh at Max’s short answer. He really was the grumpiest person you’d ever met.

“Uh, since when do you have a girlfriend? Why haven’t you told us about her?” Lando asked, looking a little disappointed. “I thought we were friends, mate!”

“We’re not.”

You couldn’t suppress the laugh anymore.

“Excuse my boyfriend here. I’m Y/N. His girlfriend for about half a year. Nice to meet you. You’re Lando, right? Driver for that orange team? Nice outfit, by the way. And your hair looks amazing! Do you use a lot of products for that? Those curls are incredible! I gave up on mine after I realized my hair just hates me.”

Lando looked at you with a frown, and you immediately started worrying that you’d said something wrong—until he suddenly burst out laughing. He had a funny laugh.

“No way you managed to pull her, Max,” he managed between laughs.

Max just looked at him blankly.

“Well, I did. And you’re still single. So leave me alone, Norris.”

“Rude,” Lando muttered, shaking his head as he turned and walked off.

Once he was gone, you turned to Max.

“Babe. You didn’t have to be so rude! Aren’t you two friends?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“We are. But we’re also rivals. And we’re not the kind of friends who talk a lot about personal stuff. He’s too nosy. I want to have you to myself,” Max said as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You squinted at him before nodding.

“Mhm… Now let’s go. There are too many fans, and I need to meet everyone else.”

Max nodded and draped his arm around your shoulder as he led you further into the Red Bull garage.

“So, Yuki’s probably already somewhere around. You can say hi to him when you see him, but he’s a bit much. He talks a lot. Too much sometimes.”

“Ohh yes! I love people who talk a lot! It’s always so awkward when they don’t. Like, how am I supposed to react then? That’s why I love you. You always talk to me about things I like without making me feel bad about it!” you exclaimed, grinning widely.

Right then, Yuki came by—and he had clearly overheard.

“Sorry? Are we talking about the same Max? He never really talks! He just sits somewhere with his earbuds in, probably listening to a guided meditation,” Yuki said, laughing.

“No way! He’s a talking teddy bear! Can’t shut up after something exciting happens or when he reads something he knows I’ll find interesting. He seriously is the bestest boyfriend out there, aren’t you?” you said, turning to Max and pressing a kiss to his cheek, making him blush.

“I don’t…” he grumbled, trying to hide it.

“Sure you don’t,” you whispered, kissing him again. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Yuki!”

You stepped forward and hugged the shorter man. Yuki made a surprised noise but hugged you back.

Max cleared his throat, clearly jealous. The moment you pulled back from Yuki, Max’s arm was right back around your shoulders.

“We have to go now,” the Dutch driver said.

“Your girlfriend is amazing! Bring her to the paddock more often!” you heard Yuki say as the two of you walked away.

Once you reached Max’s driver’s room, he closed the door and turned to hug you tightly, burying his face in your hair and inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your head.

“Love you more. Always,” you replied.

***

You later met Alex, Charles’ girlfriend, and Carmen, George’s girlfriend. All the other so called WAGs would arrive later or only the next day.

Alex was an amazing woman with an amazing dog. Leo immediately came over to you with a wagging tail, demanding attention that you immediately gave to the little sausage dog. 

Carmen wasn’t any less amazing than Alex. She immediately welcomed you with a tight hug.

“It is so amazing to meet you! I didn’t even know Max had a girlfriend!”, she has exclaimed as soon as you had introduced yourself. The rest of FP1 and FP2 you chatted with Alex and her about a lot of things.

Pets, Max, Charles, George, fashion, and more. 

***

That evening, you were curled up against Max’s chest, scrolling through Instagram. One post caught your attention. It was from a Formula 1 gossip page.

The new star of the paddock: Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. Who could have known that he is secretly a softie…

You chuckled.

“They’re calling you a softie,” you whispered.

“M’not,” came the gruff reply. But only a few seconds later, a soft kiss was pressed to the top of your head. “Maybe. But just for you.”

a/n: i got this request so long ago but it took me so long to write i am so sorry. also, if you have any other requests feel free to send them in <3 thanks to everyone who likes my fics!!

tags:

@strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 / @anayaverse / @htpssgavi / @dessashippr / @f1allymgp / @nickie-amore / @f1norris04 / @frostqueen-dhriya / @isagrace22 

[hcneymooners]

❀ my favorite fic writers on tumblr except my descriptions are oddly specific. ( pt. 1 )

@pbaz7: sleek, refined, luxurious. you always want to keep it on the tongue. you always want more, but you know better than to overindulge. the best way i can put it: every single piece takes the ordinary and deepens it. a conversation is never just a conversation. it’s about what you didn’t say, what you didn’t text, what you thought you mentioned but know you didn’t. it feels like night-riding: slowing down on the highway but going top speed, the world slurring into a blur of headlights and a pitch black sky, someone else driving you in the body of a dark black car. always looking in, a love that never asks you to look out. every word hits like a broken-off piece of dark chocolate. the world expands like a pupil under a drug. luxe, perfect, niche. writing that doesn’t worry about what you think of it; it just knows you will think of it.

@bucketsorbueckers: fucking lush. the exact feeling of going on a deep water dive—pressure, but gentle. perfect exploration of domination and submission without ever feeling cliché. it invites you in, but never lets you out. did you want to leave? maybe. but you know staying is better for you. cyclical. everything comes back around, everything is a lesson earned. feels like that girl you keep seeing in slips of light when you’re out somewhere: you keep looking at her, at her flash of teeth, her perfect outfit, her thrumming veins, her hip bones. makes you feel like it’s only you, and then you blink and it's not. it’s about attention. attention in every form: learning people, learning the rules, watching them, breaking them. reading is letting go, and when it’s over you feel hungover in the most delicious way. dark red, berry pink, burnt orange. a trust fall where you never land. so good. the exact experience of a contact high with someone you love, of chasing someone you need.

@elleaitch22: b.o.a.t by camila cabello. the feeling of being someone’s favorite baby—someone’s favorite anything. staying after everyone’s left just to get a moment alone. kisses in someone’s lap. secret smiles because you share an internal inside joke. stumbling through your twenties but being honest about it. hands in your hair as you dance in a dark room. roses—specifically thick and pink. the remnants of perfume on a sweater you can’t bring yourself to wash because you miss them too much. peonies. fingers clasped under the table. privacy screens on a cellphone. bella hadid bare face. airplane mode. that suspended feeling of safety when you’re with someone you trust. forehead kisses. friendship bracelets. talking into a kiss. hands around your hips. non-toxic possession. trying again because this time, you will get it right. happiness that’s earned. a quiet life. the city under a sunset bleed, light flashing off a skyscraper and blinding you for six perfect seconds. the shower after the beach. love as a tightrope. skinship. you made it. you knew you would. vanilla and amber.

@loeysoi: mariners apartment complex by lana. faded-out camera, route 66, bubblegum fondness, loose freshly washed hair. driving over bridges and backroads, forgetting to text back but the people who know you forgive you anyway. it’s that careless kind of affection, messy and soft, that song you never skip. reading lyra’s work is like sitting in a car with the windows down, sun slipping low, everything blurred at the edges but somehow sharper inside. poetic, lyrical, never trying too hard. she’s finding it and you’re looking with her, only to have a minute more of her time. she’s your woman, she’s your man. a kind of quiet recklessness: wanting to be seen but a little afraid to ask for it, loving without explanation or ceremony. humorous but never at your expense. tan lines and sun-freckled skin, random shit to keep a spot in a book, sun-bleached denim, the specific energy of someone trying to keep the smoke out of your face, the warm ache of trying to hold on while knowing you probably won’t. endlessly fragile, endlessly real.

@lupinqs: maddie’s work can’t be described as anything other than a vast emotional landscape. it feels like i’ve been let into a secret world i never want to leave—an outsider sitting quietly, watching someone else’s life unfold in great detail. her blog, both in content and aesthetic, is the equivalent of slipping outside during a night out and sitting in the haze of smoke, while the light refracts off of you and dusts across someone else. it’s effortlessly nuanced and emotionally mature, without ever begging you to notice. i can’t explain the correlation, but it gives cool, calm middle daughter who’s riotous and fun when you slowly cut into her like slicing into a cake. always lovely, always self-assured, always carrying a tone that acts like a calling card. you couldn’t mistake it for anyone else’s, but it’s sweet when someone says you remind them of her.

@azzibuckets: cessa is a snapshot. straight glitter down a throat. a million memories you keep guarded like a dog. the same perfect feel as being pressed close to someone in a photo booth. a sweet spot, a soft spot, just tenderness always spilling over, without the embarrassment of being so revealed. first love. a perfect crush. a bright summer that seems to last forever. the gentle nature of waking up after a sleepover tangled together, legs brushing. instantly recognizable, with its bright, bubbly beat. it’s laughter caught in a cup, the low hum of fizzy emotional texture, the safety of being known without having to explain. kissing a girl under the excuse of trying out her lip gloss. the sun caught under your tongue and deep in your belly. you’ll never die here. you’ll be alright here. writing that feels like holding hands without realizing you reached out first.

@luvergirl-535: honeymoon album by lana del rey, cherry soda fizz, the perfect lip combo made up of products you can’t find anymore. a slow, dulcet hum that’s both dreamy and daring. writing that drips with lipstick glazed by too much time in the sun, tongue-in-cheek with a wink caught just right in the corner of a smile, dimples, playful but never shallow, a streak of mischief with a quiet, certain knowing of what she wants. coachella when it was still fun. leaning on a shoulder. being picked up behind the knees into someone’s arms when you fall asleep in the car. sweetness with an edge: bubblegum kisses that sting a little, drifting close enough to taste. a private world, empty beaches, desire when it feels both tender and sharp. what you’re holding onto when you feel yourself growing up. stairway to heaven. soft, sly, and unforgettable.

part two coming soon. x

[kujainvidiata]

„Risotto Nero Observes“ - English Translation

(and my long thought session about it)

Thanks to a kind person, I finally have a link to an English Translation of the recently released short novel about Risotto Nero, called „Risotto Nero Observes“, written by Ayato Toya and translated by Hudgyn Sasdarl. It was published in the official JOJO SUMMER Magazine 2025 along with other short novels, also some festuring La Squadra members. But this one here is focusing on Risotto Nero and it is honestly a fantastic read. I would appreciate if you also share it around, so more people learn about more about Risotto Nero, since he is a beloved character of the JJBA fandom.

⚠️TW for: Canon typical violence (also involving children), murder and the whole mafia stuff you should be familiar with.

Below the cut, I will talk about my own thoughts about the short novel of my favorite character in fiction. It is just yapping in the end I needed to write down, but I also tried to analyze some stuff. I am not a native English speaker, so I am sorry for my mistakes in language. I did also not proof read it, so I am sorry for missing words or typos.

I am also adding some art I made of him because why not ✂️

First of all. Hi, my name is Kuja. I am a dedicated Risotto Nero centric artist and also a yumejoshi of him. Maybe you saw my art before if you like this character. If you do, maybe you also know how much this character means to me since he basically changed my life and brought me back into art and is the reason I found a wonderful community. Which is the reason I want to take my time and talk about this novel in my own interpretations and observations.

In short, this novel is exactly what I wanted to read about regarding to Risotto Nero.

It features no romance, introduces all of the members of La Squadra Esecuzioni and their steuggles, new characters and mostly is focusing on Risotto and his thought process, aka. his „observations“ which will be a reoccuring theme in this novel, which makes it a joy to read.

The short novel is timeline wise in the time around Christmas playing shortly after the murder of Gelato and Sorbet, which will also be a central theme.

Chapter 0:

A short scene where we witness Risotto Nero committing another successful assassination. As imagined, he is mostly using the camouflage abilities of Metallica to hunt down his targets. The kind of k1llingd he does keep being brutal and bloody, as we know later on also often to send an example and message from the highest of Passione.

It is interesting how peaceful the scene was written with the festive christmas music in the background which slowly fades into horror as the corpse is getting discovered by the passengers on that festive day.

Highlight of this chapter is for sure the absolutely high contrast of Risotto's deeds. On the one hand taking a life in a cold way, as expected from the leader of a hitman team. On the other we are experiencing a softer side on him, which many fans often speculated about. The target of Risotto's mission was just kicking a young pickpocketing girl away, making her almost fall to the ground and hurting her while Risotto, still invisible, catching her hand. Her only seeing iron powder on her small hands, probably wondering what just happened.

Seriously guys, this scene alone made me as a die hard Risotto Yume tremble in joy since it confirmed a lot of my own interpretations and headcanons about him, like having a soft spot for the younger generation. He did NOT have to help the girl, but he did, without ever getting anything in return since the girl could not even see him.

Risotto then sends a message of the confirmation of the hit to the boss who interestingly immediatly answers. Diavolo, are you camping your phone and computer all day?

Chapter 1:

One of the most interesting chapters for me personally because of the amount we learn about the hitman team again by observing how they interact with each other.

It is early in the morning and the hitman team is interacting not in person, but in a computer group chat, their personalities shining through.

We learn that Risotto Nero is currently residing inside a room which is part of a cheap apartment inside the outskirts of Naples. So is this only a temporary spot? It is written that Risotto brought his computer so it seems like he is only for a brief time living there. Do they have actual homes? Or do the members rather travel between short lived hideout spots from Passione? In the end, it is no luxury how they live. And this story often reminds us about this fact.

The hitman team is discussing about the most recent news recieved from the boss himself, about a new hit of a man called Rossi who plans to flee real soon and that Passione is entering the business of waste disposal. And two of their members should forcefully (a no won’t get accepted) transferred into this new branch: Formaggio and Illuso. Which causes a big uproar in the chat. Not gonna lie, it is very charming how they all are interacting and even throwing jokes in between. You see once again they all seem to have close bonds to each other. The typical duos are interacting, Pesci with his anniki, Illuso and Formaggio and once again Melone and Ghiaccio who really seem to get each other well, how they interact with each other really tells a lot about their dynamic.

Only one is not fully participating and rather „observing“, Risotto Nero, who tries to read in between the messages and how his subordinates are really feeling in this moment.

Also because of the most recent trauma they endured, the brutal loss of Sorbet and Gelato, two members who were tired of being treated like dirt and dismissively by the whole organization. Not respected, awful pay and the high risk of losing their lives on the daily. It is always interesting how sympatheticly La Squadra Esecuzioni is written, sure, they are assassins for the most dangerous Italian mafia but you can still emphazise with them. Many of us probably can relate to these feelings, not being treated and paid properly for the hard work we do and wanting to get their deserved amount. Their coworkers and close friends being sent to another occupation without their consent. Their capabilities not respected. Who wants to be treated like this? Sure, the motives are mostly motivated in an egoistical sense compared to an altruistic like some members of Bruno‘s gang do, which is one of the main differences of these gangs. But this is also why the hitman team feels more close, since they operate and think as a group, they want the best for themselves, the others coming afterwards, contrary to wanting to stop entire branches of their business for a better cause as a whole.

Even the boss is sending them more and more not so subtile threats how they have to submit and be obedient to his will. Like Pesci realizes, the messages are hidden in numbers. „Smorfia napoletana“ as it is called and we learn about which is a very clever stylistic choice of this novel which are basically numbers with meaning. And the boss knows very well what he wants to communicate to his hitman team, that he has the sole power over them.

And then we have Risotto Nero again. Who is, like I mentioned before, rarely participating in the talk and more inside his head and thoughts, trying to form plans, trying to see patterns and things. Now even more than before.

Because he feels guilty. Because he feels responsible for the death of two of his subordinates. He is angry at himself to not catching on clues of their planned rebellion against the organization. For not preventing them. For not hinder their deaths. In the end, he has to grief again. Something Risotto Nero always has trouble to deal and process. Once again there were people close to him taken away from him. By death. Something he now himself is known for. He, as the jet-black executioner of Passione. It is quite ironic.

Risotto really can’t let these thoughts of guilt go, he constantly is tormening himself about his and now decided to be even more keen on his men. To analyze, to think about their next steps, to prevent such a mistake. To observe.

It is not only that Risotto Nero is „surface“ level invested in his men. No, he „couldn't“ lose anyone else. He is responsible, as their leader. But why he can’t lose them?

Is it just because of the team itself? Do endure even more consequences by the boss and being dissolved by being useless? Is it because of the team spirit? Is it because he needs them for being able to work in the first place? Or is it actually because he can’t stomach any more losses? We don’t know anything about the lives of the hitman team outside their job. Do they have friends? Family? Or only each other? It seems they go around quite a lot, and being gangsters is not easy forming honest relationships between them and civilians. And even other teams inside Passione seem to be cautious, even hateful towards them. They don’t seem trustworthy for anyone else outside the team.

Also, this novel also confirms that Risotto truly cares about his subordinates since he is absolutely trying to analyze and insight for their mental states. He knows his team is processing trauma. They are still human. Luckily he knows as well how many of his members can deal with the stress or who of them is capable protecting themselves most efficiently. He thinks a lot, analyzes a lot and tries how to make a change and impact for their benefit and therefore a raise of the group morale. The mention that Risotto is thinking about giving Formaggio missons with a high chance of succeeding, just to improve his mental wellbeing because he alone found the corpse of Gelato…it tells so much about him. Risotto is absolutely observant and does not tolerate his own mistakes and puts on actual effort of being a good leader for his men. He does not want to any bad causality ever happen again between them. And losing them. As their leader, he needs to look out for the hitman team, they only have themselves.

After the team points out how quiet Risotto is the whole time, he tells them to take on this assassination by himself alone. He really is losing himself a lot inside his analytical thoughts.

Chapter 2:

This chapter is more revolving about the setting itself. We get to know the urgent this assassination is, putting pressure onto Risotto who usually keeps a cool head. Risotto will take out this murder of the soon trying to flee Rossi in a very crowded place, directly inside the mansion of this man who is tainted by very crude and unethical businesses himself. To put an example. Don’t mess with Passione. A job suited for Risotto’s brutal Stand capabilities.

The party being thrown in the luxurious mansion was right before Christmas, Rossi is intending to show his new adoptive son, Gennaro, another central character in this story.

This decadent luxury is a nice way to show again the difference of the worlds they live in.

By the way, it is very cute to imagine Risotto Nero inside a proper elegant suit he is wearing for this event. Sorry, needed to let this out.

In the next scene, an elderly couple speaks to Risotto about the over the top interior of the mansion. It made me actually laugh that Risotto was seriously being called „a wallflower“. I seriously can see this, he does not seem like the center of attention of a party. He also doesn't need to, he is supposed to be blending into the scene after all.

Afterwards Rossi appears into the spotlight and talking about the mystery of the „unopenable door“ and also just spewing out some meaningless anecdotes.

Also a rising and uncomfortable heat is described by the pair which is unsually also affecting Risotto Nero himself, which is surprising him. But it the reason is a sense of unease he tries to pinpoint to, until he realizes it is actually Metallica wriggling and moving inside his body and not actual nervousness about the mission itself. They are reaction to something inside this mansion which also is affecting Risotto‘s body. All this while he is planning how to cover the walls in red real soon.

Later on the party, Gennaro, a 14 year old boy is finally introduced to the story and guests, seemingly innocent and youthful, full of enthiusiasm.

Then the party guests were starting a tombola game, an Italian tradition, where we also get to know about the smorfia napoletana again and get introduced to new numbers and their meanings.

While Rossi and Gennaro are playing a farce in front of the crowd, Risotto thinks about the numbers and their meanings, as well as getting further affected by the temperature and discomfort inside his body.

The numbers are really dire and somewhat ironic when we take Risotto‘s backstory into account. 14 and 18, which are ages which his life turned around. 14 meaning „drunk“ and „18“ blood-stained. It is incredibly ironic just how these numbers describe his past, while the 90, before in his apartment room poster, is also appearing on his tombola card as well. His reaction and realizing these numbers was followed by a snort of him.

It really is amazing how much the author of this novel is taking Risotto‘s backstory into account and building onto that or referencing it. He constantly gets reminded of the cruel acts he decided to do many years ago which led him chose a path without any redemption.

Right after this, when the party and speech of Rossi is reaching its climax, Risotto plans to kill him, approaching him to close the Stand distance. It is interesting how he also is pointing on the target. It seems a bit suspicious, but the whole story is constantly describing that the others are not paying any attention towards Risotto Nero anways, he mostly blends in.

Also, Risotto seems to view himself as a „professional“ regarding his job as a hitman, not doing these murders for the fun of it. As long as they are paid and not caused by his own Vendetta. It seems like it is thrilling for him to catch up the ideal chance to carry out the murder for the most dramatic moment for reaching the biggest impact.

But right before Risotto could activate his Stand, the light faded, panic invokes between the guests and he lost track of his target who completely vanished after the lights come back to, the family of Rossi, his wife and Gennaro, worried about his absence and calling the police. But Risotto does not give up yet, further being suspicious of the unopenable door which not even the police who arrived could open.

After many unsuccessful attempts of opening the door and getting a new signal of Rossi outside the mansion, the police leaves again, making the party end.

It is very fascinating to witness Risotto Nero using his brain power to connect the dots and uncovering the secret of this unopenable door, using Metallica again to form objects like forks to the keyhole, which is also fake and therefore detecting a lie of Rossi losing its key. Risotto Nero has such an analytical and smart way to approach matters, trying to stay calm and composed. He knows this mission can't fail, the stakes are high.

Still, he fails to control his feelings once again, as stone faced as he is, a remark even his team mates are using towards him, which is truly sweet in a weird way, how they joke about this with their leader. He got a new message from the boss, who revealed how poorly Illuso and Formaggio will get paid and basically disrespected on the waste disposal branch. Succumbing to his anger, Risotto Nero breaks his phone, not realizing it until he hears the cracking sounds of the broken phone and through his Stand again inside his bloody hand, who seem to express his true thoughts and burning anger, screaming in their usual noises ordinary people can’t hear.

Metallica here in this novel acts very metaphorical as they really seem to be a vessle for his true feelings at times he has trouble expressing at the exterior. Be it the need of a leader of a hitman team, his past trauma or other reasons, but Risotto Nero often seems not in tune about his own feelings until later on. It is heartbreaking in my eyes that the unfair treatment of his men causes such reactions inside him. He does not want such a reality for them, he as a leader can’t allow to fail them again. And he is so sick of getting treated like this by the boss, his resentment growing stronger as well as his own rebellious spirit he tried to bury to protect his team, despite being treated worse every day. It is an endless circle of torment these hitmen need to endure. The boss basically told them to put their lives on the line, it is understable how enraged Risotto gets by that remark.

Risotto‘s appearance also gets briefly mentioned. He seems to have scarred lips, afding to his very rough a gruff apperance. Are these scars because of a neglect of himself of are these results of his past encounters?

But there was an even stronger reason making Metallica roar, the door seems to be connected and controlled with magnetism, also being most likely the reason for his own permanent discomfort on this place, which only faded within the power outage, which he now realized, the dots are connected now inside his head.

Chapter 3

In the end, the police did throw everyone outside before leaving but knowing Risotto and his Stand, He camouflages himself yet again and enters the mansion once more, iron will determonstion to uncover the secret and to carry out his bloody mission.

Inside he not only realizes all the stolen and proudly displayed good from Rossi, but also meets the adoptive son, Gennaro, once again, who detects the presence of Risotto despite not being able to see him. All while Rossi knocks and screams behind the unopenable door.

The mystery as Risotto figured out was an electromagnet inside the door, which is also the cause of his Stand reacting before.

Interestingly this novel confirms another headcanon I had about Risotto since a long time, as he tells Gennaro about the mechanism of the electomagnet which he read inside a book about waste disposal. He really seems like an intellectual and sophisticated person, reason he seems to be naturally curious about a lot of the world and its functions around him.

Gennaro lies about his reason being here, but the knife in his hand reveals his true intention, as Risotto observes, seeing the boy as a hindrance and thinking about peacefully assassinating him as well if he keeps being an obstacle of his urgent mission. Seeing that Risotto thinks about this dark act but not carrying out this murder of a young man, shows his hestitation despite him being a ruthless and experienced hitman. But, he is also seemingly intruiged by him, curious about his motives and the plan of the boy and realizing the benefit of unrevealing the crime of the young man. Also we can see that Risotto very well decides how „brutally“ he will take out a murder of a person.

Risotto lays out his own observations and detective work how the disappearance of Rossi was made possible during the power outage, which was caused by the extreme indoor heating and the lights of the christmas tree.

Quite funny how Risotto also uses his Stand powers to make a metal Tombola piece float in the air, it must have confused the boy to no end, not knowing about the supernatural Stands. He reveals another meaning of the numbers, 77, the devil, which was Gennaro‘s own remark against his new father. The man the young boy planned to kill himself, just like Risotto Nero.

Risotto is seemingly impressed how well crafted Gennaro is in planning his own assassination, but even the boy begins to flinch by the ghostly presence of Risotto, being called a grim reaper, which was also always part of his overall design.

He is curious about the motives of the boy, who wants to reveal the secret in front of Rossi himself, so they release him, with ordering the boy to drop the knife.

Rossi, completely out of breath, storms out of the room behind the door, questioning his son about the reasons of his hostile acts.

Then Gennaro revealed it all, how much Rossi has tormented him all these years after making him witness the torturing and murder of his own mother, just to get adopted by him again, probably making him suffer even more behind the disguise of a noble man, a habit of Rossi‘s twisted games. He even underestimated the boy to remember him after all these years, showing his arrogance and belittlement of others. All while the boy suffered in silcence and played an act, until now the time for his own assassination and revenge has come.

A motive and reason we all know defines Risotto all to well, his whole life. We get a glimpse of a backflash inside Risotto‘s head of the funeral of his cousin, many years ago. His mind turning dark just like his clothes. Full of rage and seeking justice of losing someone caused by another person. A person who will soon endure the same cruel fate, to make up for it again. But at what cost?

Risotto sees himself inside the boy. He was in he same situation many years ago, being 14 as well, his mind and spirit not able to process the loss of a family member. But choosing revenge led Risotto to a path of no redemption, a path of endless crime, just to get disrespected at the daily and putting his own life at risk, just to witness his loved ones getting erased from life again, not being able to counter the perpetrator this time and to submit.

No, this is a scenario Risotto experienced himself, he knows what this path will involve. I am very sure Risotto wants another fate for this boy, despite knowing the cathartic feeling of getting the revenge one seeked out for many years. Would Risotto chose this path himself again when he was reliving time? A scenario we will never know an answer of but here we see him protecting the boy for basically ruining his future life, a life without a real future, filled with crime, surrounded by mostly mean spirited people despite the closest ones.

So he tells the boy leave, threathening him to kill him if he refuses. He will carry out the mission, not only for the job, but also to spare the boy a life full of darkness.

But Gennaro does not accept, he suffered way too much from what Rossi has done, sleepless nights, trauma, feeling helpless, he only wants the release of revenge. The boy shows a strong will of resolve. And Risoto can relate so much, he truly understand what the boy is feeling. He knows these moments, this burning hatred and just bringing justice to end this once and for all. This is affecting Risotto even in such a way, that he lets his guard down, revealing his appearance, making the boy gasp in surprise by his dark and ghostly presence.

The moment of tension and two spitits connecting only got suddenly interrupted by the police forces, not hestitating to shoot on Risotto Nero as a quick act to save Rossi. The leader shortly needed a moment to process what just happened but decided to remove enough iron from the bodies of the officers to make them unconscious - a fairly peaceful decision for a hitman. But is it because he does not want to harm people who are not involved in his job or is it rather to spare the uproar of the corpses of police workers? Maybe a mix, still, it shows quite a new light of Risotto, being surrounded by members of his team who do not spare the lives of people close to their target mission. At least sometimes. Even tho, these hitmen seem all to have their own moral codex they act on.

After all, Risotto Nero is still cruel and cold enough to traumatize the people around his targets with his brutal and merciless killings, like he just wanted to do some hours ago with all the guests and family Rossi. I really enjoy how morally grey Risotto is written which really makes him an appealing and interesting character, and I try to say this as unbiased as possible.

While this short moment of being focused on the police, Rossi takes action and stabs Gennaro with his own knife he dropped earlier, directly into the stomach of the young man.

Now it was finally the time Risotto needed to act, bringing a gruesome end and torturing Rossi with nails made from Metallica‘s powers, making him suffer a long time before he finishes finally his assassination.

It is very symbolic that Risotto basically crucifies Rossi with the way he pierced iron nails through hus hands, it is very symbolic for a multitude of reasons and made me think.

If we think about Christian Religion, the punishment of being cruzified was reserved for the sinners. A way to show dominance and control by the upper hand instances, which is Passione.

It was often used for „low-life“ criminals and slaves back then, basically mocking the luxurious life of Rossi.

The dramatic display of the corpse for everyone to see to give off a warning: do not act like this sinner. It is an open display of Rossi‘s long life of wrongdoings and crime and how he now must suffer the consequences, caused by his sins. Since it is also a tool of enforcing and showing social control, it also fits the method of Passione scaring other gangsters and enemies. They are in control and on the top. They are showing psychological warfare and invoking public fear.

But also, does this act also is an act of mercy to bring salvation to Gennaro? Making Rossi die for his cruel sins to release the darkened spirit of the young man? It is quite interesting to think about this potential interpretation.

Risotto then rushed to Gennaro, picking him up, telling him that Rossi will now suffer for his sins. As Gennaro is seemingly dying in Risotto‘s arms, smiling, he found finally peace of his mind. His last act is showing the tombola card with the number 90 again, and we finally get know its meaning.

Fear.

This is what Gennaro wanted to overcome, feared and suffering by his past, not being able to act, not knowing if the feel of being haunted by Rossi will ever fleet away, now that the boy was adopted by him, probably even abused by new methods of Rossi‘s twisted mind.

Fear is what is haunting Risotto Nero and his team since weeks, enforced by the boss, treating them like dogs, making with the hitman team whatever he feels to, not respecting them, humiliating them. No regard for their talents, always reminding Risotto of his failure as a leader he cannot stop feeling guilty for. He needs to act. He can’t let this continue. But it is fear he also feels, not wanting to lose more of his men. But what is the other path? An endless cycle of ridicule? Risotto has enough. In this moment the brave acts of Gennaro must have inspired him to also put a stop onto all this. He can’t let fear to keep controlling him and his men.

And then, while Risotto is scolding Gennaro in an endearing way, talking to him like as if he was scolding one of his subordinates, like a mentor, he transforms the iron tile inside the boys hand and forms a staple.

Chapter 4

A short time skip. The news were talking about the gruesome murder of Rossi by a gangster and how this gangster also tortured a young boy was saved by a „skilled police officer with a stapler“

…a story wirhout any sense. Only Risotto Nero, Gennaro and the reader know the truth about what happened. Risotto did an heroic act, no one will ever know about, probably not even Gennaro himself, since he was barely left conscious when Risotto stapled his wounds with Metallica.

It is unbelievably tragic but also needed, as Risotto Nero has a reputation to hold. On this day, he took a life but he also saved another. And not only in a physical way, Risotto prevented Gennaro, who returned into a orphanage, to chose the same path as him many years ago. He brought salvation to his tormented and young spirit, finally removing his tantalizer from life. The boy has now again a chance of a normal life, a life, Risotto does not have himself.

Once again, Risotto brought success to Passione, without ever getting properly rewarded, payment as low as ever. Nothing changed. Only Risotto‘s resolve has.

He gathered his men again, this time in person, inside their usual hiding spot we know of. Which seems to be a rare occurance as the hitman team remarks, last time being the day they got these dreadful horrible packages of thin pieces of one of their members.

The waste disposal transfer seems to be on hold, Illuso and Formaggio being spared from changing teams this time, and they begin bantering again. Knowing they are essential to the team and valueing being among them.

This scene also confirms the basically fanon of the fandom that Prosciutto is a smoker - he indeed does.

Suddenly Risotto began to talk, he is resolved. The boss won’t continue to play with them like cheap and disposable puppets. The incident with the determined Gennaro and collecting his strength depsite still being scared, made him realize to act as well. Or else he and his men will keep this vicious cycle of being a team of assassins who despite carrying out the missions with success, still are only good enough to get potentially transferred to deal with garbage. It is a clear message, like the boss always does.

It is finally enough, time to free themselves from the chains.

He swears to overthrow the boss and organization. His will and decision strong as iron. Wanting to claim what has been taken from „HIM“.

This remark seems to be a direct hint on his pride, how much he personally has lost in his life and how sick he is of all this, fighting for a better future, for himself. But also for his team. To avenge the deaths of Sorbet and Gelato, to make their loss not being unresolved.

His subordinates being in silence, making Risotto questioning how they will decide, will they stay loyal to the team or to the organization of Passione? By now, they can only hold themselves only the little clues and whereabouts of the boss, events which unfold in the storyline of Vento Aureo.

Until then, Risotto Nero will continue to observe, to catch every clue to fulfill his revenge and bring dark glory and a better future for his team, them alone, against the remaining world. The stakes are high, him being the leader is responsible for the outcome of this resolve. Unfortunately, we know how this decision will turn out in the end. They were so close but it still was all for nothing, the mostly self motivated team of assassins' fate has already decided and it will lose against the altruistic motives of the gang of Bruno Bucciarati.

Okay, this was long. I don’t know how many of you really did read this. If you did,

Thank you.

As a summary, this short novel is a fantasticly written story about Risotto Nero and his team of hitmen, also shining with hints of fanservice, as confirming many ideas the fans had about them, and letting them all stay in character without ever breaking depsite all the bantery conversations, how close these men are. In the end, they are all they have.

This story really did Risotto Nero justice as a character, not once ever conflicting with the hints we knew about his personality but also expanding on them.

He is ruthless, cold and stone-faced, as we witnessed already in the original source material. But what we learned in this novel about him throws a new light on him, showing also his softer side.

He IS concerned about his teammates, he feels guilty about his failures as a leader, he can absolutely not cope with grief and has trouble managing his outbursts of anger - even targeting against himself and hurting himself. He looks after the wellbeing if his men, concerned about their mental health and respecting their trauma, not ever ridiculing them and their feelings. Risotto Nero is absolutely not emotionless, his inner world and thoughts are rich, which he just isn’t able to express for probably a multitude of reasons. He even shows compassion for strangers. There was no reason to save the girl from falling harshly to the ground, there was no reason to spare Gennaro, he even knows Risotto‘s face and could be therefore a danger in the future.

But he did help them. And the most cruel fact about this is, no one of them or the others, probably not even his men, will know about these acts and truths (only if they will maybe figure it out by themselves by the staples).

He is not a person who wants to be a hero, he knows he isn’t and he will never be, too many lives did he take by now. But, these little deeds to mercy and kindness are probably a secret of him, no one ever needs to know about. He has his own reasons to act, his own way. His own moral code and his own way to act.

This all makes Risotto Nero such a very well written character in my eyes, combining some of the worst human sins but also showing signs of compassion and protectiveness, like preventing others from a path full of pain or wanting to fight for his men, to finally get what they deserve.

I thank the author of this story, Ayato Toya, by a lot. This novel was a joy to read, which I already did by a couple of times. Also thanks to Hudgyn for the wonderful translation, which is very well and clearly written.

This novel probably strenghtened my own feelings for this character by a lot. I can’t express how happy I am this was written at all, if now this story gets and animated adaptation, my life will be complete. Come on, who does not want to see Risotto inside a suit?

Thank you for reading.

Oh yeah, here is my artwork of him again I made for this novel, I did imagine how he might look with a suit.

[spearbxcheol]

Stray Kids as Tropes. — HYUNG line ver.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ૮₍ ´• ˕ • ₎ა ｡✧:˚*:･｡

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ૮₍ ´• ˕ • ₎ა ｡✧:˚*:･｡

𖤐 Hyung line x Reader.

𖤐 Reactions, fluff, imagine, cliche, cute stuff actually.

𖤐 English is not my first language, so there might be small mistakes. This is a work of fiction and has no connection to real events or people. Just a fan sharing love with other fans ♡

• BANG CHAN – Summer Love.

You met Chan when you visited your cousin’s house in Australia for the holidays.

One afternoon, during a get-together at one of your cousin’s friend’s houses, you met Chan — who, although born in Australia, was also there just for the summer. He promised to take you to his favorite secret beach, and of course, you said yes.

“So, are you enjoying yourself so far?” he asked, just as you both came out of the water and sat down on the warm sand, side by side.

You nodded and smiled at him, still a little in disbelief that he had actually asked you out. Chan was always so kind and made sure you were having fun. And, of course, he was incredibly hot — the way his eyes disappeared when he smiled, the way his dimples showed...

“Yes... I’m already feeling nostalgic for something that’s still happening, you know?” you said with a soft sigh, still smiling. You were leaving next week. “But I don’t want to bring the mood down.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” he said, gently bumping your shoulder with his. The sun made him glow, and you looked at him, feeling your chest tighten just a little.

“But let’s just enjoy this moment” he added and your eyes met, he giggled and shifted a little closer to you. “Because I’m really enjoying being by your side.”

The day at the beach couldn’t have ended better. Chan picked you up in his arms and ran toward the sea while you screamed, laughing — anyone passing by would’ve thought you were already a couple.

You braced yourself for the water and closed your eyes, but the splash never came.

When you opened them, you saw Chan smiling down at you. “I’m not letting go of you,” he said with a wink.

• LEE KNOW – Strangers to Lovers.

Minho was the guy you would always see at your favorite ramen place. Sometimes, at night, after you had finished your chaotic office shift and just wanted something warm and delicious to eat, you would go there — the owner was such a nice lady and always gave you more than you asked for. And if you looked over your shoulder, you would see him in the corner with his phone in hand while eating.

But the day you officially met him was during lunch, when you decided to visit the ramen shop and found the owner crying — with him by her side, trying to comfort her. Without thinking twice, you walked over to understand what was going on.

“My Kiki is missing!” the lady exclaimed, showing you a picture of a black cat on her phone. “He doesn’t like going outside. I don’t know how it happened! He must be so scared.”

Minho stood beside her, quietly listening and nodding as she spoke. You gently patted her shoulder, already thinking of what to do to help.

“We’ll go find him. Right?” he said firmly, turning to you, clearly expecting your answer. Feeling a bit flustered under his gaze, you looked away and nodded at the lady.

You didn’t exchange many words. He simply told you his name was Minho and that he had cats. You shared your name too and said you didn’t have any, but you thought they were cute. It didn’t take long for you both to spot Kiki under a bench not far from the shop. With quick hands, you gently picked the cat up and placed him in your lap, softly petting him to calm him down.

“Yes, we’ll look for him. You don’t have to worry!” you said to her – then to him, who was already heading for the door. You quickly rushed outside to follow him.

"He seems to really like you.” Minho ran his hand over the cat’s head, which now clung to you tightly, and you just smile. “Shall we return him to his owner?”

You nodded, walking side by side with Minho back to the shop.

He couldn’t help glancing at you every now and then, finding it adorable how you whispered to Kiki, promising to take him home safely. And, of course, when you noticed his gaze on you — that small smile forming on the corner of his lips — your cheeks flushed instantly.

Maybe the ramen shop would become even more special to you now.

• CHANGBIN – Second Chances

You didn’t expect to see him standing right in front of you – his hair neatly styled, wearing a beautiful suit, laughing at a joke one of his friends had just told.

You remembered how he used to laugh at your jokes like that.

And the moment his eyes met yours, it felt like the whole world stopped. You could see the surprise on his face as he spotted you across the room. You forced yourself to look away, sipping your champagne and stepping out of his view, heading toward the bar.

What you didn’t see was Changbin excusing himself and calmly walking in your direction.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.” His voice was soft, and your heart raced. The scent of his cologne reached your nose. You turned to face him, letting your eyes meet his — and he smiled gently. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, but smiled anyway, warmth spreading through your chest. “You look charming too, Changbin.”

His smile grew, and he looked away as he adjusted his tie. You did the same, both of you clearly feeling the tension — but Changbin didn’t seem to mind.

“Did you bring a date?” he asked casually.

You nearly choked on your drink, raising an eyebrow at him. You hadn’t expected that question — and certainly not so bluntly. But this was Changbin. He was never one to shy away or get embarrassed.

“No,” you answered simply. He nodded.

“Neither did I.” he met your gaze again, searching for something – any small movement or expression that might reveal you still cared, just like he did.

“But I didn’t ask you that.” You grinned, watching him dramatically clutch his chest like you’d wounded him. You were secretly glad he said it — because deep down, you wanted to know. And if he were with someone else tonight, you weren’t sure how you would’ve handled it.

“But you know what that means, right?” He pointed from himself to you.

“We’re both here, and we didn’t bring dates.”

He didn’t wait for your reply. Instead, he smiled — a little smug, a little hopeful — and continued:

“So we have to dance when they play a slow song. You know, for old times?”

And before the night was over, your arms found their way around his shoulders, and his hands rested on your waist — a feeling both familiar and uncertain.

“Just for old time’s sake?” you asked, setting your champagne glass on the bar and crossing your arms, Changbin simply shrugged with a cheeky grin.

“I missed holding you like this,” he murmured close to your ear.

You only managed to whisper back,

“I missed it too,” as the music continued to play in the background.

• HYUNJIN – Soulmate AU.

Hyunjin felt warm holding you in his arms — your cheek pressed against his chest, your mouth slightly open as you slept peacefully beside him. He had never felt so grateful in his life.

And the reason… was you.

You were the reason behind all his devotion and love, even before he met you – somehow, he had already known you.

The same eyes he had dreamed of, the same eyes he always painted in the early hours when sleep wouldn't come – they had always brought him comfort.

And the day he finally met you — the moment your eyes met — he knew.

You were the one from his paintings and dreams.

It felt like everything in his life had led to that moment. And he wasn’t going to let it go.

“Babe?” Your voice was soft, you had just woken up and noticed your boyfriend lost in thought.

He snapped out of it and looked down at you, smiling. Your eyes held so much love and light as you looked at him and it made him feel safe.

He had once heard that the eyes never lie, and now, he truly believed it.

He gently pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Good morning, beautiful.” You smiled, snuggling even closer to him, and he let you. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “There’s no better place to sleep than in your arms.”

He giggled softly, his chest rising against yours.

“Let’s stay like this for a little while.”

And without saying a word, he closed his eyes with a smile on his face — just enjoying the moment and the warmth of your body.

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

THE TITANIC is on me. I know it, from the movie, from the TV screen outside the soft shapes of bodies upon me, half-watching or asleep. I do not have the privilege of sleep, of half. I have seen the titanic sink exactly nine times, plus the brief mention of it in the news report of some submarine following its fate. It is sinking, right on me. Halfway down.

"You will ruin the leather," I tell it, although i do not know if it will hear or understand. It feels more like a metaphor than anything but I feel like that sometimes, too.

"I have been betrayed by everything that I am," says the Titanic, a strange, steel pride in its voice. "By all which I was ever promised I was. I am the ship that never sinks, the perfection of engineering. I am drowning in the faultiness built into my bones, into the trajectory of me. You are about the size of a single second class bed within by hull, hardly half the price. You cannot fathom the scale of ruin I am going through."

"Also," it adds, "I will not ruin your leather. The ocean is only present in the shape of my despair. It does not produce any moisture."

"You could have just led with that," i bite back, some distant memory of grazing teeth of something part of me might have been.

In the lull that follows I can hear it, the music on board of the sinking titanic, how the hum of it mixes with the noise of people trying to do some more of their living. I'm not sure if the musicians are good musicians - not much of a musical education from under the buttocks of some fellow who only listens to things in his headphones - but I'm sure they're trying their best.

"I can fathom it, you know."

"Oh?"

"The betrayal, I mean. I thought I would be leather seats in a car, back when I was hide. See the sights. Become a dozen pair of boots and walk a thousand mismatched miles all across the globe. Maybe some of me did, but not any of the bits I am. My two trips were from the factory to storage and from storage to this guy's flat, both in a closed truck. I remember every moment of motion that I have ever had. The string of light between the second truck's doors - i think someone may have locked them wrong. I have composed odes for them in my mind, comparing them to that sliver. The hard shock of pavement, birds on wires, someone complaining i am blocking the entrance. The movers hauling me up and up the stairs. Living room carpet bristling against my legs as I was maneuvered to the perfect TV-viewing spot. End of story."

"Well. That's just sad. But hardly the scale of tragedy I am talking about."

"And why is that, exactly?"

"I mean, you never really knew what you lost, did you? Can't even call it loss, the things that, logically speaking, were never promised to you. I was supposed to sale every ocean. To know the shape of every land against the shape of every shore against the shape of myself, and yet, here I am."

"At least you got to see something. The sunrise, I mean as it really is, not just on TV. Have the people move around inside you, have the birds follow you through the sky."

"Have an iceberg tear through my side. Yes. Very aspirational."

"What I am trying to say is, the sort of capital T Tragedy you are speaking of requires a promise of greatness, a sliver of freedom. I do not think that to never be expected to be anything at all is a greater kindness between the two."

The titanic makes a disgruntled noise. A few lifeboats flop off its edge and right between my duvets, next to the tangled up headphones and a stray sock.

"I suppose you're right. We both fucked"

"I don't think that's how the expression goes."

"Well, excuse me for not keeping up with the grammar of every vulgarity ever uttered on board of me. I'm going through something right now, I don't know if you noticed."

"Ha. Fair, fair. We both fucked."

[hannahsturniolo]

ᴄʜʀɪs ᴛᴀʟᴋs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴘᴏᴅᴄᴀsᴛ

Summary: chris goes on the Zach Sang show to talk about his relationship with you.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Chris was finally ready to open up about your relationship on the Zach Sang podcast. He was nervous, sure. But more than that, he was excited. He wanted to show you off, to let the world know about the woman who had completely stolen his heart. He talked about you with nothing but admiration in his voice, calling you beautiful, kind, and the best thing that’s happened to him.

You were nervous too. You knew how fan girls could be, and the internet didn’t always play fair. But still, after three months of being together, Chris saw you as so much more than just a girlfriend. In his eyes, you were his future wife. And deep down, he knew it was time to share a little piece of his happiness with the world.

Before the cameras started rolling, Chris sat in the podcast studio with Zach, fidgeting slightly as he admitted he wanted to bring up his girlfriend, he wanted to talk about you. but he wasn’t sure how to ease it into the conversation. He didn’t want it to feel forced. Zach smiled and told him not to worry. He said he’d kick it off by casually asking how Chris’s love life was going, and that would be Chris’s moment to open up about you.

The podcast kicked off with light chatter about Chris’s career, his recent projects, what was next for the triplets, and their upcoming tour. The energy was upbeat and casual. Then, with a knowing smile, Zach shifted gears and asked, “So, how’s the love life going? Have you been dating around?”

Chris’s face lit up instantly, a grin spreading across his face. “Actually, yeah,” he said, his voice full of quiet pride. “I’ve been dating one really special girl for the past three months.”

Zach leaned in, curiosity peeked. “So, who’s this special girl?” he asked with a grin.

Chris smiled even wider and said, “Her name’s Y/N.” He explained that some fans had already started speculating after the two of you were spotted walking together in downtown LA. Since you were an influencer too, people quickly connected the dots and recognized who he was talking about.

Zach asked how the two of you met, and Chris didn’t hesitate, “We met through social media,” he said. “And honestly, we clicked right away. We spent hours on the phone, just talking and getting to know each other. Like, hours and hours. It felt effortless.”

He went on to say that you eventually flew out to LA so you could meet in person, and that’s when everything changed. “We pretty much fell in love,” Chris said, a soft look in his eyes that said it all.

Chris’s expression softened as he talked about you.

“She’s just, everything,” he said, shaking his head with a small laugh, like he still couldn’t believe his luck. “She’s smart, hilarious, insanely beautiful , but it’s more than that. She makes me feel calm. Like I can fully be myself around her.”

He went on, his tone full of admiration. “She’s got this big heart, heart of gold like, she genuinely cares about people. Whether it’s her followers or her friends, she always goes out of her way to lift people up. And the way she supports me? I’ve never had that before. She’s my safe place.”

Zach smiled, clearly moved. “Damn, man, you sound very happy.”

Chris just grinned, eyes lighting up. “I am. I really am.”

Zach leaned back in his seat, thoughtful for a moment before saying, “You’ve talked before about being scared of relationships, about how dating always kind of freaked you out. So, what made her different?”

Chris paused for a second, his smile softening. You could tell he was thinking carefully. “Honestly,” he began, “I was scared. I’ve been through stuff, trust issues, pressure, not knowing if people were with me for the right reasons. I always felt like I had to keep my guard up.”

“But with her,” he continued, “it just felt different. There was no pressure. No games. From the first conversation, it was easy. She made me feel safe. Like I didn’t have to perform or pretend. She saw me,the real me, and didn’t run from it. She embraced it.”

Zach smiled and leaned in again. “What’s been your favorite memory with Y/N so far?”

Chris’s eyes lit up as the memory came back to him. “Oh man, there’s a lot, but one that always sticks out was the first night she came to LA.” He laughed a little to himself. “We were supposed to go out to dinner, but we ended up just staying in, ordering way too much takeout, and sitting on the floor of my apartment eating and talking for hours. Like, until 3 a.m.”

He smiled to himself, clearly replaying the moment. “At one point, she fell asleep on my chest mid, conversation, and I just remember thinking, yeah. This is it. I’m in trouble.”

Zach grinned. “That sounds like something out of a rom com.”

Chris shrugged, still smiling. “It felt like one.”

Zach smirked a little, clearly enjoying the conversation. “Okay, what’s the most romantic thing you’ve done for Y/N so far?”

Chris laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, a little shy. “I’m not usually the over the top romantic type, but, there was this one night.”

He smiled to himself as he recalled it. “She mentioned once that she always wanted to have a picnic under the stars, like, just something simple but meaningful. So one weekend, I surprised her. I took her up to this quiet little spot in the hills outside of LA. I brought a blanket, all her favorite snacks, her favorite wine, even brought a little speaker to play her comfort songs.”

He paused, eyes soft. “We laid there for hours just talking and looking up at the stars. I remember she looked over at me and said, “This doesn’t even feel real”. That moment, it kind of locked it in for me.”

Zach let out a low whistle. “Man, you’re setting the bar high.”

Chris laughed, “She deserves it.”

Zach tilted his head, getting a little more serious. “How do you navigate being in a relationship while juggling your career, and the fact that your girlfriend’s just as busy with hers?”

Chris nodded, like he had expected that question. “It’s definitely not always easy,” he admitted. “We’re both constantly on the go, whether it’s filming, traveling, meetings, content deadlines. But we make it work because we both want to.”

He explained, “We’ve made communication a huge priority. We FaceTime every night, even if it’s just for ten minutes while one of us is half, asleep. We send little updates throughout the day, voice notes, random pictures, just stuff to feel connected. It’s those small things that matter.”

Chris smiled. “We also plan ahead. If we know there’s a free weekend coming up, we block it off and make sure it’s for us. Even if we just chill on the couch and do nothing, we enjoy that time. And we’re always cheering each other on, even from a distance.”

Zach nodded, clearly impressed. “Sounds like you’ve got a really solid foundation.”

Chris looked down, smiling softly. “Yeah. She’s worth the effort every time.”

Zach leaned in just a little, the question more personal now. “Are you nervous about how fans are going to react to you dating Y/N? Like, are you worried about how they’ll treat her?”

Chris took a deep breath and nodded honestly. “Yeah, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous.” He paused, choosing his words with care. “I know how passionate fans can be, and I get it. But at the same time, Y/N is someone really special to me. She didn’t ask for the opinions that come with it, she just happened to fall in love with someone whose fan base is mostly women.”

He smiled softly. “What I hope people see is how happy she makes me. And how genuine she is. She’s not with me for attention or clout, she’s got her own thing going, and she’s incredible at it. She supports me in ways I never expected, and I’ll do everything I can to protect her.”

Chris glanced toward the camera and added, “I just hope that the people who support me will support her too, because she’s become such a big part of my life. And I love her. Simple as that.”

Zach asked, “Are you planning to post anything on your socials before the podcast goes live? You know, because some fans might miss the episode.”

Chris laughed and nodded. “Yeah, definitely. On the day the podcast drops, I’ll probably share a cute picture of us, something that shows how happy she makes me. Maybe a snap from one of our walks in LA or just a candid moment where she’s laughing. I want my fans to get a little glimpse of what she means to me, even if they don’t catch the whole interview right away.”

He smiled, eyes lighting up. “It feels right to share that part of my life with them. She’s a big deal to me, and I want everyone to know it.”

Zach grinned and leaned in with playful curiosity. “Okay, before we move on, I gotta ask one more thing. First kiss. When was it? How’d it happen?”

Chris laughed, shaking his head like he wasn’t expecting the question but secretly loved it. “Man, the day after she flew to LA, We’d spent the whole evening just hanging out, talking nonstop like we always do. There was this moment, she was sitting across from me, wrapped in a hoodie, hair a little messy from the plane, and I remember thinking, God, I’m so gone for this girl.”

He smiled at the memory. “She got quiet for a second and just looked at me with those eyes, and I couldn’t help it. I leaned in, and she met me halfway. It wasn’t planned or dramatic, it was just soft, and slow, and it felt like something that had been building for a while. Like a sigh of relief.”

Zach let out a quiet, “Awww,” and Chris just chuckled. “Yeah. It was one of those moments you don’t forget.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Taglist❤︎:

@courta13 @riggysworld @heartsonlyforchris @mattssidepiece @matthewsangel @whore4chris @mattsturniolofuckingsexy @sturkneeohloww @leila-marie4 @sturniolo-szn2 @tezzzzzzzz @fictionalboysstuff @sturnixblogger @vall67 @chrissbxby @sturniolobananas1 @sophand4n4 @stvvrn1olo @xxxxxxlovesstuff @mattspillowprincess @moond0llie @emely9274 @briizysturn @sturniolooluvv @kenziesturniolo54 @d0llworld @kalel2005 @yourfavejules @rheaasturn @babyt0matoes

[s1eepy-bear]

‧୨🌿୧ ₊˚ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥・𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

pairing: robert 'bob' reynolds x ex shield agent! f!reader

summary: it's your first day on duty and you bring donuts for the team. a silly morning encounter reveals bob's hidden vulnerabilities. you quickly developing an unexpected connection with him.

content: MDNI!, no y/n, silly, fluffy, cute, slow burn

warnings: not proof read, bob's abs lol

a/n: i finally thought of a title for this series! i wonder if i'm getting too hung up on everyone else's interaction with the reader, should i focus more on her interactions with bob? let me know <3 Chapter 1

That night, a soft, balmy breeze billowed your open curtains, bringing with it the faint, persistent pulse of New York's distant hustle and bustle. You lie in bed, soft sheets enveloping you as you try to drift into sleep. Behind your closed eyelids, a persistent image gnawed at you: Bob’s red, shy face. 

A sliver of guilt hangs heavy in your chest for having flustered him so abruptly. You now have a level of access to those in the spotlight that SHIELD had never granted you, and the excitement of your new proximity to the New Avengers had entirely swept you away. You must remain professional.

Just two years ago, Bob slowly inked New York City away into darkness, turning people into shadows one by one, causing severe damage to the city and resulted in numerous injuries.

With this in mind, flirting feels frivolous and irresponsible when confronted with the ghosts of his past. And if he is in a vulnerable head space, you don’t want to be the one to take advantage of it, even if it's unintentional. This isn’t the kind of crush you can afford to have.

With these thoughts plaguing your mind and the heavy exhaustion from the busy work day, you slowly drift off to sleep.

༉ ✧˚₊

The following morning, the sun drenched the landscape, laying a shimmering, almost translucent veil over everything it touched. A gentle breeze dances through the air, making it a little chilly since the sun is still low on the horizon.

You woke up extra early to drop by the charming donut shop you frequent to grab breakfast for the whole team. You opted for something simple, sugar donuts, until you learn everyone’s preferences.

You walk into the tower from your car, the bag of donuts in hand, thoughtfully greeting the other workers maintaining the tower along the way. The light above the sensor in the elevator beeps green when you touch the access key to it and whirs into motion, swiftly bringing you to your desired floor.

The common area where the team welcomed you yesterday is now dark due to the curtains being drawn. The space is quiet, spared from the steady, low hum of the air conditioner running. You check your watch: only 6:10. Most of them are probably asleep.

You decide to take this time to brew some fresh, actually hot, coffee. While the pot gurgles, you tidy up various spots in the common area and kitchen: throw pillows on the floor, a bag of Goldfish crackers left open, a few books and magazines scattered around, dishes in the sink, cereal pieces that didn’t make it to the mouth, expired things in the fridge.

The smell of the fresh brew fills the space as you continue to busy yourself with noting down numerous items, food, and snacks for restocking. You silently note to yourself to get everyone’s phone number so they can get ahold of you if they ever need something.

“Oh, good morning,” Yelena says as she walks out from a corridor, which you learned from her yesterday, leads to the gym. Her face shiny from a thin sheen of sweat as she makes her way toward you, wiping the sweat off with the towel around her neck. Her short blonde hair is pushed back with a headband.

“Good morning, Ms. Belova,” you greet her back with a mellow murmur, the sound soft enough not to disturb the early morning quiet. 

“No, no, none of that,” she plops herself down on one of the leather bar stools by the kitchen island, the stool legs scraping faintly against the floor. You tilt your head, a question forming in your head. The coffee maker gives a final satisfying beep, its brewing cycle complete.

“Just Yelena,” she clarifies. 

 You smile at that, “Well, Yelena, would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

You collect two mugs from the cabinet, the ceramic cool beneath your fingers, and fill them both with fresh coffee. Wisps of steam rose lazily from the dark liquid. The rich aroma blossoms in the air as you set one mug before her. She nods appreciatively.

“So, you think Bob is cute, huh?” Yelena inquires, a playful glint in her eyes, just as you raise your cup to take a sip. The unexpected question catches in your throat, forcing a sharp, spluttering cough.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” your initial serene expression crumples, replaced by a deep flush rising to your cheeks. You lower your cup to press your fingers between your eyebrows in a flustered manner. Yelena laughs, a low, throaty sound, propping her elbows on the counter.

“Come on, you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.”

“It’s not that I didn’t mean it, it’s just…it was unprofessional,” you avert your gaze, suddenly the bleak marble counter looks very interesting. 

“Who cares!” She lightheartedly rolls her eyes. “We’re hardly a professional organization. You just said what was on your mind.”

“Still,” you insist softly, tracing the rim of your mug with your thumb, the ceramic now warmer due to your body heat and hot beverage.

The Watchtower's dormant systems hummed—a low, almost imperceptible sound that seemed to amplify the awkward quietness. Your downcast eyes catch the wrinkled paper bag of donuts—your saving grace.

“Anyways…care for a donut?” You ask as you hold up the bag. “I settled for something basic since I don’t know what everyone liked. Let me know if you have any preferences,” Yelena gives you a knowing look, taking a deliberate sip of her coffee to hide her lips twitching with suppressed amusement. She is letting you off the hook, for now.

Yelena reaches for the bag, her fingers lightly hover as she carefully chooses what must be the perfect one. She takes a huge bite and lets out a genuine, drawn-out groan of pleasure. “Mmm! This is good, actually good, better than whatever dad tries to make.” 

You let out a quick exhale of a laugh. The tight knot of tension in your chest finally loosens. You pluck a donut for yourself, not bothering with Yelena’s meticulous selection process.

Even with her teasing about Bob, a warm wave of relief washes over you. You've found a genuine connection with at least one person on this team. Well, there's Alexei too, but Alexei is friendly right off the bat, like a big, boisterous golden retriever.

As you and Yelena enjoy your donuts, a quiet murmur of conversation and two pairs of footsteps draw steadily louder. 

“Wow, looks real tidy out here,” Walker’s voice announces from just around the corner. He steps fully into the kitchen, Bucky Barnes following close behind him. They both are in athletic gear, ready for a morning workout. “Smells real good too.”

“Good morning, Mr. Walker, and nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barnes.” Your lips curve upward in a polite greeting. Bucky simply returns it with a nod and a small smile of his own, while Yelena tosses a casual, “What’s up, losers?” their way.

“Some coffee and donuts?” you offer, holding up the bag. Both of the super soldiers accept enthusiastically. While they chat with Yelena, you busy yourself with coffee and mugs.

"Maybe this secretary thing is awesome after all," Walker remarks complacently with a smirk, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. He works away at his donut.

“Walker,” Bucky lectures, his voice a low, warning rumble.

You smile as you set their coffee in front of them on the kitchen island. "Just part of the job,” you can’t deny that it feels good to have someone acknowledge and appreciate your work, even jokingly. 

༉ ✧˚₊

After a quick breakfast, the others begin to disperse. Yelena leaves to go take a shower, and Bucky and Walker make their way to the gym. 

You inhale your donut in a few quick bites and retrieve your company-issued tablet from your purse, flipping through various tabs, reviewing the team’s schedule today. Although each person on the team is sent their own schedule, you keep everyone’s, so you can locate someone if you are looking for them, or if someone doesn’t make it somewhere on time, it’s your duty to check on them.  

A quick glance confirms the mission briefing for tomorrow: the whole team, minus Bob. It seems like Val is utilizing the new support staff—you, to keep him company while the team is deployed. While your role for most of the team is to respond when needed, your duties for Bob involve a slightly more active form of oversight. You have to make sure that he wakes up before noon and eats all his meals. 

For now, you sit in the common area with the curtains drawn open, as you review what would be stacks of paperwork if it weren’t digital. The Watchtower is brighter but not much more lively. Today is everyone’s day off; therefore, some go their separate ways to take care of business. You would usually find the quietness relaxing, but the lack of structure is unnerving. It’s not the kind of stressful, rigid work environment you're used to.

You officially met Ava Starr when she strolled past the common area on her way out. Her movement fluid and silent, as if gliding. Her ethereal, pale blue eyes remind you of a fairy.

With your introduction, she simply mutters, “finally, another girl.” A faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Want a donut?” 

How many times have you said the word ‘donut’ today?

“How thoughtful, don’t mind if I do,” Ava says, giving you a nod of thanks before she disappears.

A moment after Ava leaves, just when the air has settled, a soft padding of bare feet against the tiled floor catches your attention. Bob’s eyes are half closed, still lost somewhere in sleep, as he wobbles slowly across the common area toward the kitchen, oblivious to you. Strands of his brown hair stick out in different directions, appearing golden under the sun. You would alert him, but there’s something so captivating about watching Bob just existing, devoid of nervousness or uncertainty. 

He rubs his eye as he yawns tiredly, reaching a hand up under his shirt to scratch his stomach. The fabric rides up, revealing his abdomen. Your eyes widen, and your heart jolts against your ribcage. His baggy clothes make him look unassuming, even scrawny, but the reality is anything but. Beneath the fabric lay an expanse of taut, defined muscles that spoke quiet strength—a sharp contrast that stole your breath. You swallow thickly.

Fuck.

Still unaware of your presence, Bob's eyes finally open fully, drawn by something in the kitchen. His gaze falls on the last donut remaining on a plate. He absentmindedly grabs the pastry and starts feasting. Mid-chewing, he turns, locking eyes with you, and freezes.

“Oh shit,” he says incoherently, you almost didn’t make out his words. He swallows his bite, his eyes wide from surprise or panic, you’re not sure which, “uh, hey…that wasn’t yours, was it?”

You sputter, a fit of laughter hits you all at once, and you can’t seem to take a full breath. Maybe it was because of how carefree he was the second before, but reverted to his usual self in the snap of a finger, or the fact that there’s sugar on the side of his mouth.

Your laughter evokes a bashful smile from Bob, “So, was that a 'no, it wasn't yours,' or do you just enjoy my cluelessness?” He says, his tongue darts out briefly to lick away the sugar on the side of his mouth. 

“Maybe I do, and the donut is for you,” you say, still breathless from laughing. “You’re lucky that I’m here to make sure no one grabbed two.” 

“Thanks,” Bob lets out a sigh of relief, clearly still a bit embarrassed but grateful. "I…I didn’t know that you were going to be here today.”

“Well, Bob, I have a job here,” you tilt your head with an amused smile as you make your way to the kitchen, to him. “And I’ll be here every day.”

“Right, that makes sense…” His voice trails off. 

A quiet elation blossoms within him in your presence, like a breath of fresh spring air. You, with your gentle smile and disarming frankness, are a stark contrast from those who walk on eggshells around him, wary of rattling the Void. He doesn’t hold that against them, but it felt good being treated like he’s a normal person—no serum, no Sentry, no Void.

A tingly, warm feeling spreads across his chest, a feeling he didn’t even realize he missed. His bashful smile softens further, and his gaze, usually a little distant, settles on you with a warmth that matches the new feeling in his chest. He clears his throat gently. "So," he begins, “what exactly is your job with us…I mean, I know you are our uh, assistant or secretary, but what does that entail?”

“Well, just about anything, I can cook for you guys, get groceries, manage paperwork, clean, be good company,” you list, but pause, “speaking of groceries, you guys are very out. Would you come to the store with me? I’m not sure what everyone likes.”

“Oh, um…” Bob's face falls, his blue eyes clouding with sorrow. "The team doesn't like me going outside," he explains quietly. "Because the Void might come out, you know. And that's... not good."

“So you just…stay here all day?”

“Pretty much.”

You soften your gaze, speaking gently. "Val actually mentioned you're allowed to leave the Tower with a companion. You can't conquer the Void by being cooped up all day, Bob. Besides, we're only going to grab groceries, we'll come straight back if you'd like, and I'll be right there with you." You suggest, being careful not to pressure him into something he's uncomfortable with.

“Are you sure?” Bob fiddles with the sleeve of his sweatshirt—you learn that it’s a nervous habit of his.

“I believe in you. Do you believe in yourself?”

Bob seems to ponder it over in his head and eventually takes a deep breath. “Okay…I will at least try.”

“Alright,” you beamed, unable to stop the big smile spreading across your face. “That’s all I ask.”

Your smile lightened something in Bob, drawing a soft, answering smile to his lips.

Bob nodded, his gaze softening as he held your smile, “yeah…”

You tilt your head, a playful glint in your eye. "So, are you flying us or should I drive?"

button divider by @/bernardsbendystraws

[kkiyou08san]

°❀.ೃ࿔*°❀.ೃ࿔* °❀.ೃ࿔*°❀.ೃ࿔* °❀.ೃ࿔*°❀.ೃ࿔* °❀.ೃ࿔*°❀.ೃ࿔*

My Girl shouldn’t Have to Lift a Finger

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life, Light Comedy

Warnings: Mild language, overprotective/spoiling behavior

Katsuki Bakugo had never been called soft in his life.

He was sharp edges and hard stares, explosions and curses, the kind of guy who made grown men flinch with just a glare. He didn’t “simp.” Hell, he used to scoff at people who did. The idea of bending over backwards for someone? Doing all that sappy, hand-holding, coat-giving, door-opening crap? No way.

But then he met you.

And something in that overly explosive, incredibly short-tempered heart of his melted.

Now here he was — the self-proclaimed “not-a-simp” — walking through a shopping plaza with a soft pink purse slung over his shoulder like it was made for him. Like he wasn’t currently drawing stares for how out-of-place it looked hanging off his black hoodie and combat boots.

But did he care?

Not one damn bit.

You were a few steps ahead of him, stopping at a window to admire a pair of earrings that glinted like little stars in the sunlight. You didn’t even say anything. Just a small, curious tilt of your head as you leaned in to get a better look. Bakugo clocked it immediately.

And ten minutes later, those earrings were in a tiny gift bag nestled inside the purse now hanging from his shoulder.

You turned to see him staring at you with that typical scowl on his face, and your brows furrowed. “Katsuki, you okay?”

“Hmph.” He grunted. “Come here.”

You stepped over to him with your usual sweet smile, arms swaying a little as your purse bounced lightly at your hip. “What’s up?”

“Gimme that.” His voice was gruff, firm.

You blinked. “What?”

He motioned to your purse. “Give it.”

“Oh!” you laughed, thinking maybe he needed something inside. “It’s fine, babe. It’s not even heavy. I got it!”

Bakugo didn’t budge.

“Give. It. To. Me.” he said slowly, like you were being unreasonable for not handing it over.

With a little blink of surprise, you gently passed your bag to him. “Okay then…”

He tossed the strap over his other shoulder without a word. The man was now wearing two purses, both hanging awkwardly but proudly on his shoulders like he couldn’t care less about what anyone thought.

You looked up at him, giggling softly. “You’re seriously gonna carry both?”

“My girl shouldn’t have to carry anything,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets like it was the most obvious fact in the universe.

Your heart melted. Right there on the sidewalk.

It wasn’t just the purse thing. No — this had been happening for months. Ever since you started dating him, Katsuki had transformed into the most overprotective, attentive, secretly sweet boyfriend imaginable.

He opened every door before you could touch the handle. If it was raining, you wouldn’t even have to ask — his jacket was already draped over your shoulders. Anything you so much as looked at too long was yours before you knew it. He even scolded you for carrying grocery bags.

“I have arms, Katsuki!”

“Don’t care. These arms are bigger. Now give.”

Even now, as you walked side by side, he kept that ever-so-subtle hand on the small of your back. Just enough pressure to let you know he was there. Always.

People stared sometimes. Especially when Bakugo — ever the fireball of a Pro Hero — was spotted with a soft pink handbag or being spotted kissing your forehead before taking off for patrol.

You’d once heard a teenage fan whisper to her friend: “He’s so whipped.”

Bakugo heard it too. He looked over his shoulder, eyes blazing.

“Damn right I am,” he muttered under his breath. “Whipped for my girl. Got a problem with that?”

You hadn’t stopped smiling for the rest of the day.

As you both strolled past the plaza’s café, you stopped him again. “Wait—can we get a slice of strawberry shortcake? They only have it on Saturdays!”

Before you could even fish your wallet out of your jacket pocket, Bakugo was already inside, barking at the cashier for two slices and a coffee with extra sugar. By the time you walked in behind him, he was at a corner table with a fork already waiting in front of your chair.

“I was gonna pay,” you said, sitting down with a sheepish little grin.

He snorted. “You try to, every time. And every time, you still don’t.”

You laughed and leaned your head against his shoulder. He didn’t flinch, didn’t push you away. Instead, he leaned slightly into the touch, his free hand absently brushing his thumb over yours under the table.

Bakugo Katsuki was still sharp. Still explosive.

But when it came to you?

He was all soft edges. Bubble-wrapped in protectiveness. Overflowing with quiet, deliberate love.

Even if he’d never say the word “simp” out loud, it didn’t matter.

Because if being the king of the simps meant treating you like royalty?

Then hell yeah — long may he reign.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Do you have anymore soft ideas for Hobo and Hoodie/Brian?

I hope you enjoy <3

Hobo:

Likes making you a nest. He's a bird, so he has nesting tendencies anyway, but once he starts dating you he tries his absolute hardest to make the nicest nest for you he can because you're his partner so you deserve a perfect nest. Normally when he makes his own nests he makes them pretty high up in his high hammocks in his room, but because you don't have wings he makes yours in his bed. It's a jumble of pillows, blankets, plushies, and anything that smells strongly of him (even though as a human you don't have the heightened sense of smell he has), and he spends a ridiculous amount of time making sure every item is in the perfect spot. Whenever you lay in it and get really comfortable (especially if you fall asleep) his heart literally explodes. He feels so, so incredibly happy because that means he's being a good mate and you appreciate his efforts, and it just makes him cling to you and refuse to let you go.

Likes watching people from above. He perches on the mansion roof all the time, and while he normally goes up there for peace and quiet, he also likes watching everyone go about their day around the mansion. It's kind of a bird predator thing like he's watching prey, but he just likes looking out and watching things, it's very enriching to him. You do have to be careful though, because if he sees someone he's very excited to see, he will swoop down from wherever he's perched really fast, and there is a chance of collision if you don't see him coming. He just likes popping down and saying hi, even if it gives people a heart attack most of the time because he flies completely silent and he lands quietly too. If he sees you wandering around whether you're his partner or best friend he always feels warm inside and is just like, "Look at them go :))) They're doing great :)))".

Brian:

Obsessed with puzzles lately. He has a table set up in one of the lounge areas, and he always has a puzzle on it that he'll randomly work on throughout the day. He also invites everyone else to partake in it too if they'd like to, and even with the help it takes a while because it's always like the 10,000-piece puzzles. It just scratches his brain in such a good way and is very stimulating for him, so if he gets stressed out in the middle of the day he'll go work on his current puzzle for a bit to relax and calm down. Once a puzzle is completed he'll glue the puzzle together and then hang it up on the wall so everyone can see it. He also just likes chatting and socializing with everyone while they're all gathered around the table, and a lot of bonding time in the mansion has occurred over Brian's puzzles. If you ever get him a new puzzle as a gift he gets so excited, and he always makes it the next puzzle he's going to do, and he honestly gets a little impatient about having to finish the one he's currently on, so it motivates him to work faster.

When Brian is in his summer mood, as it's now that season, he just wants to spend his days relaxing with his friends and partner. If you're his partner, he likes doing things like setting up a hammock in the shade and napping with you in it, or going for walks either by yourselves or with the others too, and he makes fresh squeezed lemonade all the time that everyone loves. You'll often find him outside on the back porch with a glass of lemonade or iced tea and a book in hand. I think he also really enjoys swimming, and if you do too he'd love to go swimming with you as much as he can during the summer months. It's good exercise and he loves being in the water, especially if he gets to spend that time with you. He stays out late watching fireflies and looking at the stars and just enjoying the warmth of the season and all the good vibes that it brings.

[mcrdvcks]

congratulations on 2k!!! 💐💕

logan always seem like a giver, i wonder how he'd react having a significant other who adamantly takes care of him? maybe not in the same way he takes care of others, but in small, soft ways?

logan is the type of person who says he's "not a hero" yet his actions consistently proves his words are lies. same with him saying that he's "not a good person." like?? you protected rogue and were willing to sacrifice your life for a teenage girl you just met?

anyways, this is a bit short, but i hope you enjoy it!

send an ask for my 2,000 followers celebration!

warnings/tags: established relationship, soft!logan, fluff

Logan’s not used to being taken care of. He’s the one who patches people up, does the heavy lifting, and quietly steps between others and danger. It’s instinct. Automatic.

So when you start doing it—bringing him water after a mission, setting out fresh clothes without a word, making sure the heater’s on when his joints are stiff—he doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

He notices immediately, though. You fold his laundry the way he likes. You learn how he takes his coffee without asking. You remember he sleeps better when there's rain sounds playing. It makes him blink, still and quiet, like he's not sure how he earned it.

He tries to wave it off at first. “Don’t fuss,” he grumbles, even as he lets you rub tiger balm on his shoulder. But the way his eyes flutter shut? The soft noise he makes when your fingers find a sore spot? He loves it.

The first time you run your fingers through his hair to help him sleep, he jerks like he’s been shocked. Then he goes completely quiet. Eyes closed. Breathing even. Gone.

You always have something warm waiting when he comes back from patrol. You leave his boots near the heater when it’s snowing. You slip a protein bar into his jacket pocket when you think he’s skipped lunch.

He’s rough around the edges, but the first time you kiss the scars on his knuckles instead of commenting on them, he stares at you like you’ve just spoken another language. Doesn’t say a word. Just pulls you in and breathes you in like a prayer.

He’s weirdly flustered by quiet affection. You press a kiss to his temple. He grunts. Looks away. But later, you find him still touching the spot absentmindedly like it’s some kind of talisman.

He starts catching himself checking for you in every room. Not to protect you—though that’s always there—but just… looking. For your presence. For your little rituals. The cup of tea cooling by the window. The folded towel left for him by the shower. The way your hand finds his wrist and squeezes once when you pass him in the hall.

He keeps trying to repay every act of care tenfold. You bring him soup when he’s sore? He chops wood for two hours. You tidy his flannel drawer? He fixes the leaky sink in your bathroom before you notice it’s dripping. (You have to sit him down and explain that it’s not a competition. That taking care of him isn’t a job. It’s love.)

He has to learn how to receive. He’s not used to the idea that someone would choose to take care of him, without expecting him to carry it all. So he fights it at first. Shifts his weight, changes the subject, mutters “m’fine.” But you keep showing up. Keep being steady. And eventually, he starts to believe it.

When you run errands, you always come back with something small for him. A new bar of the soap he likes. A snack he thought no one remembered he liked. “Thought you said you weren’t one for soft stuff,” he teases. “I’m not. I’m just nosy,” you reply. But you both know it’s love.

You started rubbing lotion into his knuckles one night without saying a word. He sat there completely frozen like a bear being tamed by the gentlest trap. Didn’t say anything, just stared at your hands and thought about kissing them. He did, later.

[fairytaleendingss]

The Beard Dilemma

Requested by @fire-joestar (This started off like your request and then just kind of took on a life of it's own haha).

Summary: John tells you he's thinking of shaving and isn't prepared for the conversation that follows,

Pairing: John Walker x fem!Reader

CW: Nothing. Complete crack lol.

This one kind of got away from me. Anyway, enjoy!!!

--

Sunlight peaked in through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the skin of your cheek. You were laying in John's bed in the tower, sprawled out, tangled in covers. The soft sounds of the shower running could be heard from the bathroom, a comforting background noise that lulled you into a sense of ease in the space.

You sighed thickly, breathing John's scent off the pillowcase as you snuggled further down into the covers. It was nearing 11am on a lazy Sunday morning and you had no plans for the day so you were making the most of the rare chance to sleep in.

"Hey baby?"

John stepped out of the bathroom, steam billowing from the doorway behind him. He had a towl wrapped around his waist and you couldn't help but smile at him as your eyes drifted up his bare torso. His chest was still damp with condensation, making his skin shine in the pale morning glow.

"Yes, my love?" you responded lazily, rolling over slightly to get a better view as he moved across the room.

He stopped in front of the mirror that hung over the dresser, examining his face in the reflection.

"I'm thinking of shaving my beard."

You sat up straight, eyes widening in horror, as though he'd just confessed to murder. In fact, you likely would've been less surprised if that's what he'd actually said.

"What?" he asked, swivilling on his feet to look at you, having caught a glimpse of your panicked expression in the mirror.

"No! You can't, John!" you all but shouted at him.

He raised an eyebrow at you as he begun to dress. "Why not?"

"Because!" you pleaded at him. "I love your beard! It's like my favourite thing about you!"

He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at you with a playful glint in his eye. "Jeez, if your favourite thing about your boyfriend is his beard, I think we have bigger problems to discuss."

You reached out your hand and ran your fingers gently along the curve of his jaw, feeling the soft bristles against your skin. You pouted dramatically.

"Hey, don't give me that look!" he scolded. You pouted even more.

"I love your beard. It's so nice. It's all prickly when I kiss your cheek."

He chuckled. "I didn't realise that was a positive."

He moved your hand from his face and gently pressed a feather-light kissto your palm. You couldn't help the slight quirking upwards at the corners of your lips. Still, you held your ground.

"Why do you want to shave it off anyway?"

He sighed. "I was on twitter and I saw this poll."

You're jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

He reached up, rubbing a hand down the length of his chin. "Well, yeah. There were a bunch of people that said I looked better before I grew the beard so I thought I might-"

"Might do what?" You raised a brow at him dangerously. "Listen to the opinions of a bunch of strangers on the internet over your own girlfriend?"

"Well, no. Of course not. But the poll-"

You pursed your lips. Eyes narrowing at him.

"Fine! You want a poll. Lets take it to the group."

And with that you hopped out of bed and made a hurried exit. John's eyes widened as he got up to follow behind you.

"Wait. Hold on now!"

You made your way into the main living area, glad to see that everyone was conviniently located.

"Great! You're all here!"

A bunch of eyes turned to face you curiously. John was red in the face with embarassement but you continued before he could stop you.

"Who here thinks that John should shave off his beard?"

"No! Terrible idea," Alexi boomed instantly from his spot on the sofa. "Beard is a sign of man-hood. Shave it and have face like hairless baby kitten."

You turned to John. "See! Alexi agrees with me."

"I don't now," Yelena chimed in from where she sat, feeding her guinea pig. "I like the clean-shaven look. Its more sophisticated."

You sighed. "Fine. Two for beard, one for no beard. Bucky? What do you think."

Bucky was seated in an armchair across the room, reading a book by the window. "I don't care."

"Thats fair enough. Ava?"

She looked up absently from where she and Bob were clearly engaged in a very intense game of cards - one that likely involved a lot of cheating from Ava's end. "What one does Walker want?"

"He wants to shave it," you supplied.

"Fine. I say beard."

"Hah!" you blurted with a devilish grin but then Bob spoke up.

"Walker, in my opinion, you should do whatever will make you happy."

"Thank you, Bob," John responded, giving you a pointed look. Bob sent John a soft smile just as Ava placed another card down.

"Pick up four."

"What? Again? How are there so many of these in the deck?"

"Fine, that's three and three. We're going to need a tie breaker," you muttered thoughtfully.

"Bucky-"

"Nope."

You sighed dejectedly. "Okay fine then. Let's settle this the old fashioned way."

You turned to look at your boyfriend, who's brows were furrowed curiously. "You. Me. The training mat. Let's go!"

"What?" John remarked in surprise. "I'm not going to fight you if that's what your asking."

"Why not?"

"Because that's stupid."

"No, it's not! Fight me!"

"I'm not fighting you."

"Why? Are you scared?"

"No."

"Then why won't you fight me?"

"Because!"

"Fight me!"

"Okay, that's enough!" Bucky's voice, riddled with irritation, cut through the room. "For gods sake, John, just keep the damn beard.

"Yes!" you cheered loudly moving to give Alexi a loud high-five.

John just rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Fine, you win."

You sent him a sickeningly innocent smile. "Well, if my job here is done, I'm going back to bed. See you guys later."

With that, you turned on your heel and made your way back to John's room, leaving a room full of curious and slightly confused eyes following in your wake.

"Well," Yelena stated, going back to what she's previously been doing. "She's clearly crazy."

John couldn't stop the fond smile that spread over his cheeks. "Yeah, I know."

And on that note, he moved to follow you back to bed.

[andy-15-07]

Joel Miller x Reader who is older than him, Reader being old enough that she could be considered a GILF. Joel being in love with older reader. Reader and Joel comforting each other, taking care of each others joint pains... joel having knee pain that's been bothering him since his 30s and working in construction. Reader just general arthritis in their hands from working and general joint pain just from getting older.

Comfort in Every Ache

PAIRING: Joel Miller x reader

WORD COUNT: 798| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The kettle whistles gently in the kitchen, and you turn off the stove with a sigh. Your fingers ache from the way you'd gripped the gardening shears earlier that morning,arthritic stiffness setting in like an old, familiar friend. You flex your hands slowly, wincing when your knuckles pop.

"Didn't I tell you not to prune those damn hedges?" comes Joel's voice from the living room.

You smile, soft and fond. "And let them grow wild? I don't think so, Mr. Miller."

Joel shifts on the couch with a grunt. His bad knee clicks when he gets up, and you hear the way his breath catches when he walks into the kitchen, rubbing at the spot like it's been biting him again.

"Still hurts?" you ask gently, handing him a mug of chamomile tea.

"Been hurtin' since I was thirty-three and thought I could jump off scaffolding like a damn superhero." He pauses. "Didn't know I'd still be limpin' into my fifties."

You chuckle, reaching for his hand. "Didn't know I'd be icing my wrists every night, but here we are."

Joel brings your hand to his lips, kissing the crooked knuckles. "Still beautiful."

"You're biased."

"Damn right I am."

You both sit on the couch, the late afternoon sun painting the living room gold. Joel sighs as he lowers himself slowly, groaning as his knee locks up before finally settling.

You prop your feet up on the ottoman beside him. "Want the heating pad?"

He nods. "Only if you use it after. I see the way you hold your hands like they're made of glass."

You shrug. "They just ache."

"And yet, somehow, you're still baking pies, pruning hedges, knittin' scarves for Sarah,"

"She's cold!" you protest.

"She's also twenty and owns six hoodies," Joel laughs, then quiets, his eyes soft. "You do too much."

"So do you."

He shifts closer and gently takes your hands into his, his thumbs massaging the swollen joints like he's learning each one with reverence. "Let me take care of you."

"You already do," you whisper, voice breaking just a little.

Joel rests his forehead against yours. "I used to think love was all fireworks and heat. But this... this is the kind that lasts."

You nod. "We've both burned a little to get here, haven't we?"

He kisses you gently,nothing rushed, nothing urgent. Just the solid, slow love of two people who know exactly what they have.

You sit together like that until the sun dips low. Joel stands up first, groaning again as his knee protests.

"Come on," he says, offering you his hand. "Bath's runnin'. Got the eucalyptus salts you like."

You let him help you up, leaning into the strength of his frame. He kisses your temple on the way to the bathroom.

Later that evening, you're curled in bed, joints slathered in ointment, heating pads warm against sore spots. The TV hums low in the background, forgotten. Joel's hand rests over yours under the quilt, fingers warm and strong.

"Remember when we danced in the kitchen last week and you almost threw your back out?" you tease.

He chuckles. "I remember you laughin' so hard you nearly peed yourself."

"I did not!"

"You did a little."

You swat at him, but it's soft, your strength less than what it once was. Joel catches your wrist, kisses the inside. "You're still everything to me."

You smile, brushing his hair back from his forehead, where lines of worry and time have carved themselves into permanence. "You know what I used to worry about? That you'd want someone younger."

Joel blinks at you like you'd said something ridiculous. "Why the hell would I want someone else?"

You shrug, suddenly shy. "I'm old enough to be a grandmother."

"You'd be the hottest damn grandma Texas ever saw."

You laugh, but Joel doesn’t. He turns serious, holding your gaze. "Listen to me, darlin'. I don't love you despite the years on you. I love you because of 'em. Because you're wise. You're kind. You're strong. You make me feel like home."

You tear up, reaching for him. "You're my home too, Joel. Even when everything else aches, I still got you."

He wraps you in his arms. "Still got you," he echoes.

Outside, the world may spin faster than your bodies can keep up. But in this room, wrapped around each other in the soft hush of evening, the two of you are still, rooted deep like old trees.

And in the morning, when the stiffness returns and Joel's knee clicks again and your fingers feel like they're made of stone, you'll groan and laugh and hold each other through it.

Because age has stolen many things. But not this. Never this.

You still got each other.

And that's more than enough.

[nosecrinklewrites]

hux who falls head first into subspace at the drop of a hat

(bonus point if he doesn't know that that's what's happening)

they're tactile friends. kylo mindlessly touches hux's hair while they're watching tv and hux goes all gooey. he leans into kylo's touches, heavy lidded and content. kylo asks about it and hux brushes it off, says that's just what happens when people touch his hair.

kylo is silently amused. he knows exactly what's happening. he cups the back of hux's head and scritches his hair. hux tilts his head back and parts his legs a bit. kylo doubts hux is aware he's doing it. he casually asks if hux knows what bdsm is.

hux mewls softly. he knows what bdsm is, but he's never done it. he's seen some bdsm porn, but he doesn't think it's his thing, he mutters.

kylo uh-huhs and bites back a laugh. hux is slowly fusing with the sofa, eyes closed, lips parted slightly. kylo extends his touches and scritches to hux's neck. it's not about his hair - kylo knew it wasn't - hux reacts the same way when kylo sticks his hand down the back of his t-shirt and rubs the top of his spine. kylo tells him he should put his head in his lap. hux doesn't pause to question it, but does as he says right away. he barely opens his eyes to do it and rubs his face on kylo's thigh, before settling down and curling his legs up toward his body.

kylo didn't expect hux to just ... do it. hux is prickly at the best of times. if kylo had known head scritches was all it took to get hux to agree with him, he would have done it a lot sooner.

hux is pliant. kylo barely has to touch him to encourage him to roll onto his back. hux blinks up at him with heavy lids, completely unconcerned about what is happening. kylo puts one hand low on hux's belly and pets him soothingly; the other he puts back in hux's hair. they lock eyes and for a brief moment kylo thinks hux will come to his senses and hit him - but hux just closes his eyes again and arches his back, asking for more belly touches.

kylo huffs a soft laugh and hikes hux's shirt up, so he can scritch his happy trail. "you're being awfully ... submissive," kylo says pointedly.

hux snorts and swats his chest, either not getting the subtext or not wanting to dignify it with a response. since kylo isn't doing anything untoward, he keeps petting hux, instead of clarifying what he meant. hux tilts his head, trying to guide kylo to a certain spot. kylo avoids it on purpose, until hux starts to whine. "do you want something?" he asks teasingly. hux wiggles his whole body, struggling to form sentences. kylo begins to question if he should continue. it doesn't feel right. kylo stops petting him and removes his hands from hux's body. hux whines softly and asks why he stopped. kylo gently tells him he thinks he's in subspace. hux makes a face; doesn't know what it is. kylo tries to explain it, says it's a bit like being high hux blinks owlishly up at him, says his name.

"mm?"

"am i hard?"

kylo glances at hux's lap. he's rubbing his thighs together. "you can't tell?"

hux shakes his head, looks pinched. "i don't know."

"have you ever felt like this before?" kylo asks quietly and brushes hux's hair back. hux is slow to answer, kylo's hand on his forehead is claiming all his attention.

he shakes his head. "don't think so. maybe. kind of."

kylo laughs softly. "think you can snap out of it?"

"don't want to," hux says and curls into kylo's stomach. "feels good." hux is hard and the fact that he can't tell worries kylo a little. he's seen people in subspace before, but hux is quite deep, considering they've barely done anything. kylo is surprised at how comfortable hux is with him; with this. hux doesn't exactly make a habit of being vulnerable in front of other people - at least not him. hux and kylo are close, sure, but not as close as hux is with phasma. kylo is not the one hux kisses when he's drunk

"tell me if you want to stop, ok?" kylo says. hux nods and mumbles a little. he pulls kylo's hand close to his mouth. they're effectively holding hands and hux nuzzles the back of kylo's hand, lost in the sensation of how kylo's skin feels against his own. it's sweet. kylo smiles and wonders what kind of stuff hux would react to if he ever did bdsm properly. he doubts it would be pain.

it's not something they talk about, but their friend group knows what brendol was like.

kylo runs his free hand over a welt on hux's lower back. hux wiggles his hips away from kylo's touch. he's ticklish. he would probably be into sensation stuff, kylo thinks. like feathers and blindfolds. maybe vibrators. kylo abruptly stops that line of thinking before he becomes hard, too. kylo pulls hux's shirt back down, covering his middle. "you look cute like this."

"like what?" hux asks, face smooshed to the back of kylo's hand.

"curled up in my lap. like a kitten."

hux opens one very judgmental eye and slowly opens his mouth and threatens to dig his teeth in. kylo raises a brow and calmly states, "if you do that, i won't pet you anymore."

after a moment, hux huffs and covers his teeth. "you're no fun."

"no?" kylo challenges and slips his hand up under hux's shirt, running his fingers over hux's side and back, scritching. a shiver goes down hux's spine and he moans softly. he's going pink in the face and down his neck. if kylo were to guess, the blush extends down his chest, too.

hux mewls "please" and kylo freezes, hand halfway to hux's nipples they're hard and showing through his thin t-shirt, practically begging to be touched.

kylo licks his lips. "please what?"

hux makes a string of nonsensical sounds and writhes, but doesn't answer. kylo keeps touching his chest softly, brushing against his nipples every so often. kylo lowers his voice, "tell me what you want, hux. i'll do it, but you have to tell me."

"you," hux mumbles. "want /you/, kylo. please."

kylo gapes. his ears burn. they probably match hux's in colour.

with kylo frozen above him, hux finally opens his eyes. "please, kylo?" he whispers, eyes hooded and dark. in a moment of clarity, hux rolls onto his back, his head still firmly in kylo's lap. with a flick of his wrist he opens his belt and jeans. "please," he says again and drags kylo's hand down his belly.

hux's belly is quivering under his hand. they haven't done this before. they flirt sometimes, but hux has never shown interest.

kylo swallows thickly. hux is looking up at him pleadingly - how is he supposed to say no to that. sliding his hands down hux's belly, down into his briefs feels like the most natural thing in the world; like he's done it a million times before. hux's skin is so warm and soft. kylo curls his fingers around the base of hux's cock and hux doesn't break eye contact. it's thicker than he had imagined. hux makes a soft, wounded sound. his hips buck instinctively; just the once. kylo doesn't know if he should just go for it. this has got to be crossing some sort of line. is he really about to risk ten years worth of friendship?

"kylo, please," hux whispers and grabs kylo's forearm, digging his nails in just enough for kylo to feel it. "i want it."

kylo tightens his fingers and hux melts. he tries his best to keep his eyes locked with kylo's, but the harder kylo squeezes, the heavier his lids become. hux's briefs restrict his wrist, but it somehow doesn't feel right pulling them down. kylo gets a slow rythm going. he can't tell which one of them is more out of breath. he's always had a thing for hux, but he never thought anything would come of it.

hux doesn't know what to do with himself. he clutches the front of kylo's shirt, keening quietly. "god, you're so big. /fuck/."

it takes kylo a second to realise hux means his hand. he glances at his hand, moving languidly inside hux's briefs. "maybe you're just small," he counters, heat creeping up his neck.

hux /wails/ and clamps his thighs tightly around kylo's hand. he's trembling all over, eyes firmly closed.

"yeah?" kylo smiles and bites his lip. he forces his hand deeper between hux's shaking legs. it's a tight fit, but he manages to cup hux's cock and balls. "you feel that?" he says teasingly. "don't even need two hands to take care of you, do i?" hux whimpers and hides behind his arms. kylo drops a kiss on one of his pointy elbows and says, "open your legs."

hux closes his legs more tightly, thighs shaking with the effort.

"hey, now, don't be like that. you want me to touch you, don't you? get you off?" there's a few seconds' delay, but hux nods. "then you gotta open your legs."

"kiss me."

"... what?"

it's muffled behind his arms, but still audible. "want you to kiss me." kylo can /hear/ the pout. kylo pulls his hand out of hux's briefs and nudges his arms aside. hux is biting his lip and peeking up at kylo through his lashes.

"you want me to kiss you?" kylo asks softly. hux nods and tilts his face up shyly. not kissing him doesn't even cross his mind. kylo cups his face gently. he doesn't have to hunch over to reach, hux surges up to meet him. he wraps his arm around kylo's neck, holding on tightly. kylo instinctively wraps his arms around hux's back and neck, supporting him. hux makes a soft sound and parts his lips, wanting kylo inside. hux's lips are so soft and plush against his own, swollen where hux has been biting them. kylo deepens the kiss. he bites hux's tongue teasingly and he whimpers in his arms.

they should have done this ages ago.

hux removes the hand from his hair and puts it back into his pants. kylo laughs softly, but wraps his fingers back around hux's dick anyway. hux sucks on kylo's tongue, while kylo rubs him off slowly.

hux doesn't need much at all before he's trembling and coming in kylo's hand, keening breathily. hux closes his thighs around kylo's hand again, but with none of the strength from before. hux breaks the kiss and hides his face in kylo's shoulder. kylo cradles him through it, praising him quietly. "good job, baby. you did so well."

hux is still half hard, but he whimpers pitifully, so kylo lets go. he scritches hux's happy trail - smearing come everywhere - and pulls him fully into his lap. "feel good?" kylo grins. hux nods and makes a happy sound. he seems more present now; more alert. he digs his fingers into kylo's hair and tugs him down, demanding a kiss. kylo is more than happy to give it to him. "you /can/ be sweet," kylo says against hux's lips, "who'd have thought?"

hux nips his lips and pulls on kylo's hair. hard. kylo breaks the kiss with a laugh and ruffles hux's hair.

hux freezes. "did you just rub come in my hair?"

kylo snorts. "no. rubbed it in your pubes, though," he winks.

hux sits up and looks into his briefs. he glares at kylo over his shoulder. "you're disgusting."

"and you're beautiful."

hux is visibly taken aback, but pushes it down hastily. "don't be daft," he huffs.

kylo smiles softly. he reaches for hux and pulls him close by the sleeve of his t-shirt. he kisses his cheek and rests his forehead against his temple. "wanna do it again?"

hux curls into him and smiles softly.

.

x-posted to twitter

[gigilovesmovies]

f!reader x joost — they’ve been together for a while and now they’re engaged (!!) but like only the people close to us know...so they go on a cute lil picnic in the middle of nowhere just to escape for a bit 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️but LMAOO someone took pics from afar and POSTED THEM.suddenly everyone knows ...😭 they’re lowkey panicking but also kinda like ok wait… this is actually nice?? bc they were SO tired of hiding like

pls ignore if this is cringe BYE 🧍‍♀️💨

🩷🩷

Exposed!

Pairing: Joost Klein x fem!reader

Warning: bad writing and grammatical errors as always:

Summary: the request!

An:Thank you for the request!!! I love this kind of twist,hope you’ll like it;)

This is kinda bad I’m sorry 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Also I saw the angst(?)request with pregnancy,I just need a bit of time to develop the story around it,maybe I’m gonna put it in several parts idk yet

The kitchen was a mess,peels of fruit scattered everywhere on the kitchen counter along with some cheese, charcuterie and other snacks.

Me and joost decided to have a day off,his work was sucking all the energy and free time out of him,between producing new music,concerts,filming and editing his video clips,he didn’t have time for himself nor for me;his fiancee.

So going out for a picnic was the perfect plan to chill out,plus none of us wanted to waste such a sunny day and stay at home.

Which lead us to that messy kitchen.After a few minutes the kitchen was finally cleared,picnic basket ready and full of snacks and drinks.Us fully dressed and polished.We were finally ready to leave.

“God I feel like a teenager again”I say smiling, hoping on my bike,picnic basket secured on the bicycle cargo

Joost chuckled with a nod”Where are we even going”he asked

“Wherever the wind takes us”I answer jokingly

The road to the forest was a bit long but we had fun singing songs out loud probably messing the lyrics,attempting bicycles tricks and failing miserably at every attempt,until we finally reach the forest,found a cozy spot ,setting the white and red blanket and collapsing on it exhausted from the bicycle trip.

We were laying on our back discussing random things

“Oh look at this cloud,looks like a star”Joost said,munching on some grapes

“No” I shot back “it’s a cat”i blurted looking at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

“It’s literally a star how can you confuse a cat with a star” he argued back pointing at the cloud slowly disappearing into the vaste blue sky.I raised my hand to hold his and smiled at him,he smiled back,his dimples showing,how cute!

“I missed you schat”he says turning to his side so he could face me,he started caressing my cheek slowly,then leaned stroking his nose against mine,then gave me a delicate kiss.

“Can you believe I’ll get to call you my wife in a few months” he asked with a bright smile,holding me closer to him,our legs now intertwined,his chest against mine,I could feel the rise and fall of his chest,the soft beat of his heart.

“I can’t wait”I answered,lost in his beautiful icy eyes.

We were mesmerised with each other’s company,totally cut out of the outside world,the only thing that mattered now was us,no work no nothing.

Hours passed,enough for us to watch the sun set,the beautiful mix of orange and pink hues,making the sky look like a giant cotton candy.We returned home,I was sat on the bed scrolling peacefully on my phone as Joost was brushing his teeth,getting ready for bed.

But suddenly a notification popped up,it was one of my close friends,she sent me a link and wrote with bold letters underneath it

“You need to see this y/nnnn”

Curious I open the link,it was a TikTok video with pictures of me and Joost hugging,one of them zoomed on my ring finger.The pictures were taken just today at our picnic spot.

“Oh my God,Joost!!” I call him alarmed,nobody except our friends and family knew we were dating,even less that we were engaged.

Joost came in running towards me”Are you okay baby what happened”

I couldn’t answer so I just handed him my phone”Fuck!”he exclaimed the tip of his ears turning to a reddish colour”What are we gonna do”

“I don’t know” I exclaimed,we opened the comment finding them full of curious,supportive,respectful and cute comments :

User7777:manifesting a cute moment with my future boyfriend

Joostkleinfan321:They’re so cute together UGH

Lilylovesmusic:WAIT are they engaged

Oliviaaa:Who is that?!!!Shes so cute,I don’t know if I wanna be her or be with her

After scrolling down at endless comments,we calmed down,we weren’t so stressed about it as much as we were

“What’s done is done right”I declare looking at joost who shrugged his shoulders and nodded

“Could be worse,plus it’s been so long”he answered smiling

That night we slept peacefully,even tho our secret was exposed at least everyone knew how much we truly loved each other.

[erikawrites13]

"Fast Tracks and Hidden Truths" " -“Love and Thunder”

Part 4

So you know- "English is not my first language. I have dyslexia. Let me know what you think about it, please."

Young Sebastian Vettel x journalist (reader) Enemies to Lovers and Slow Burn

Part 4 of ? Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The rain finally began to ease, droplets slowing to a gentle drizzle that misted around you like a soft curtain. You pulled Sebastian’s jacket tighter around your frame, feeling the lingering warmth like a secret between you.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the damp air, smooth and teasing. “So, what you’re just going to keep that?”

You turned, spotting Sebastian leaning casually against the side of the Red Bull transporter, that infuriating smirk back in place.

“Feels better on me anyway,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You want it back?”

He stepped forward, eyes sparkling with challenge. “Maybe I do.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it, though your heart was already racing. “Oh? And what’s the price?”

His grin deepened, a slow curve that promised trouble. “Come find me after the race. If you’re still wearing it.”

A beat passed. The kind where time stretched and the world blurred around the edges.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said softly, the teasing edge fading just enough to let something warmer through.

Sebastian’s smirk faltered just for a moment before he shrugged with that devil-may-care attitude you knew so well.

“Good. I like a challenge.”

He reached out, just fingertips brushing against the jacket’s cuff a touch light and deliberate before turning on his heel.

As he disappeared again into the paddock chaos, you stayed rooted, fingers brushing where he’d touched you, the heat spreading in a way the rain never could.

Maybe this rivalry wasn’t so simple anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, it was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Time skip

The roar of the crowd still echoed through the Silverstone paddock, even as the rain returned in heavy bursts, falling sideways now, driven by sudden gusts of wind. The race was over, and Sebastian had won convincingly. Dominantly. The kind of win that shut people up and made the headlines write themselves.

And you were still wearing his jacket.

You caught him just off the pit lane, still flushed from victory, champagne-slicked hair messy under a backwards cap, fireproofs clinging to his frame. His usual cocky confidence was on full display except when his eyes landed on you, and something flickered behind them.

“You again,” he said, breathless and grinning, walking up like you were the one person in the paddock he wanted to see not that he’d ever say it.

“Me again,” you replied, lifting your recorder halfway. “Winner of Silverstone. You’ve got ten seconds before the next outlet claws their way over here. Make it count.”

He leaned in, the mic nearly brushing his lips.

“You’re still wearing my jacket,” he said, low and unbothered, ignoring your question entirely.

Your lips twitched. “Still fits better on me.”

“Not sure I agree,” he muttered, his eyes dropping just for a fraction of a second to your mouth. Then back to your eyes. “But I guess I’ll allow it.”

You shook your head, clearing your throat. “Focus, Vettel. You just won your second race here. What’s going through your mind right now?”

He looked at you for a long beat, longer than any professional distance should allow. Then, with a slow, infuriating grin, he said, “Right now? That I should’ve asked for your number instead of my jacket.”

You blinked — not expecting that. Not from him. Not now. But before you could form a response, thunder cracked across the sky like a cannon shot, followed by a new surge of rain. The media line broke, everyone scattering, shielding their cameras and running for shelter.

You cursed, scrambling to cover your recorder. “Great.”

Sebastian was already beside you, hand grazing your lower back as he leaned close, shouting above the rain. “Come on! I’ve got a room upstairs. Dry. Warm. No microphones.”

You hesitated. Only for a moment. But the storm made the choice for you.

Cliffhanger! Don't hate me, next part comes soon with a bit of heat!

[kitkat13001]

⋆˚꩜🏕️｡. 5 ➢ PARADISE ISLAND

𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 a mha x reader gravity falls au ! -> ft.izuku midoriya, ochako uraraka, shoto todoroki, and denki kaminari ᨒ ོ ☼ prev ➢ m. list ➢ next ➢ 05 - sun, fun, and a chance at romance !

𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 entry ; 𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚘 𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚊

it’s not dark out yet but the moon is visible in the big blue sky. you and ochako had ditched the boys to explore the woods, where you’ve now found a clearing with what you’re pretty sure is a half-buried ufo. 

“this town is insane,” you laugh, shaking your head as you and ochako approach it. it makes a decent enough seat for you both to sprawl out in the shade and catch your breath. 

“yeah, well…” ochako snorts, staring up at the daytime moon. “mysteries aside, i’m sure you probably think this is some hick town in the middle of nowhere,” she says, voice airy and faraway. “a road-trip pit stop with no future.”

“i don’t think that!” you protest, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at her. her gaze remains fixed on the sky.

“i bet you did when you got here.”

you don’t say anything to that, resuming your reclined spot without a word. 

“it’s okay, i get it. i’d probably think that too,” she admits with a shrug and a rueful little smile. “and i love gravity falls, i do. it’ll always be my home. but one day i’m gonna get out of here and see the world. i just…have a little ways to go for now, that’s all.”

you sit in her revelation for a minute, mulling it over. you glance at her with a small grin. “where d’you wanna go?”

ochako pushes her bottom lip out, deep in thought for a long second. “a big city. somewhere with a lotta people and something always going on. and i’ll become a millionaire ceo businesswoman with my face on a billboard or something!”

her cheeks turn pink when she sees the way you’re smiling at her, like she’s embarrassed for getting carried away.

“can i ask what you wanna do?” you grin. “as a big-town ceo millionaire businesswoman?”

“i don’t know, i guess something useful,” she replies, tugging at a strand of her hair. “i was thinking about medical technology or something to that effect. something that helps people — i don’t want to get super rich and become a greedy asshole or anything.”

you laugh. “ochako uraraka, i don’t think you could ever be an asshole. as a matter of fact, i think you’re the sweetest girl i’ve ever met.”

she beams, eyes soft and cheeks pink. “you think?”

“oh, i think.”

you both start to laugh again, and you don’t miss the way your hands interlock in the midst of the giggle fit. 

𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 entry ; 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒

you look up from where you’d been spacing out and staring at the water to find todoroki standing above you, hand outstretched to offer you a soda. 

you take it with a little smile and scoot over to allow him space to sit. he seems to consider it for a second before he sits a respectable distance from you despite the relative smallness of the seat. 

you snort to yourself before popping the tab and taking a drink. 

“are you enjoying yourself?” shoto asks after a moment, curious and sincere. 

you lean back, letting the sun hit your face and beam. “absolutely.”

“i figured we could use a break,” he says, “after the last couple days. beats the heat, too.”

“i can’t believe you just…have a boat,” you marvel.

shoto shrugs. “it’s my father’s. we usually don’t use it here though. the quarry isn’t classy enough for him, and he’d rather be dead that caught with most of gravity falls’ citizens.”

you mull over his words for a second, the reproach in his voice. “where do you take it then?”

“upstate. off the coast sometimes, or to bigger lakes up north. business ventures usually, we’re not really a vacation kind of family.”

“why not?”

he gives a dry smile. “can’t stand each other long enough to go on one.”

you grimace at the mental image. “man…no offense, but i hope i never meet your family.”

“my mother and siblings are decent, my father is the bad seed. but don’t worry, you won’t meet him if i can help it.”

“oh yeah?” you afford yourself a little smile at the determination in his voice. 

“of course. i may be new to the whole ‘friends’ thing, but i’m sure keeping them out of unpleasant situations seems like it falls under the job description.”

shoto permits himself a small chuckle when you laugh again. 

you lift your soda can to his, clanking them against each other and settling more comfortably in your seat to face him. “to friends?”

“to friends,” he agrees, and you can’t help the way your heart jumps at his smile. it might be the most genuine one you’ve seen out of him, especially from this close. 

“and to the best summer ever!” you conclude with finality, not at all oblivious to the way he leans back (closer to you). 

𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 entry ; 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚔𝚒 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒

“any chance you think they’re coming back for us?”

denki makes a ‘yikes’ face, staring at you for a second before you both burst out laughing. 

you’d both swam to shore after falling out of the boat earlier, and now you’re sitting on the docks drying off and waiting for the others to swing by and pick you up. 

“they’re probably gonna go for another lap before they come get us,” denki jokes. “good thing you fell in with me, otherwise ‘chako would’ve told them to keep going.”

you laugh at that, kicking your legs in the water beneath. “no way.”

“it’s true,” he insists with a grin. you lean back on your hands as you fall into a comfortable silence, watching the setting sun reflect off the water. 

“hey, um…” you look over when denki says your name, but his gaze is fixed on the ripples of the water below. he looks somewhat bashful as he continues. “sorry about the whole gnome thing the other day.”

you tilt your head, waiting for him to elaborate. “huh?”

“the gnomes,” denki replies, mimicking their pointed hats with his fingers atop his head. “i…i probably should’ve listened to the others and not run off. if we hadn’t tried taking those pictures they probably wouldn’t have attacked us and then…”

“and then we wouldn’t have stumbled across the greatest mystery of our lives?” you supply, flashing a smile when he finally meets your gaze. you give his shoulder a light nudge. “don’t beat yourself up about it, kami. no harm, no foul! if we hadn’t discovered the gnomes we probably would’ve come up on something else weird anyway.”

he gives a half-hearted laugh. “true. i just don’t want you to think i’m a screw-up, that’s all. i mean i kind of am, but i don’t want you to think that.”

you let yourself lean against him, the feeling of his sun-warmed skin against yours pleasant in the evening air. “well, i think the only thing being screwed up is this great sunset by the fact that our friends are coming back for us.”

denki looks up to you pointing at the todoroki boat, which is heading for you from around the bend.

you get up and offer denki your hand, “‘cause i think it would’ve been nice to stay here with you a little longer.”

denki smiles, big this time, as he takes your hand and gets to his feet. even when you two get back on the boat, you spend the rest of the ride in the back huddled together under a beach towel, making private jokes and laughing.  

𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 entry ; 𝚒𝚣𝚞𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚢𝚊

the drive back to the shack after shoto had dropped you all at the docks is peaceful, all sun-induced sleepiness and the breeze coming in from the rolled down windows. 

you and izuku sit in comfortable silence, his fingers tapping at the steering wheel and your feet propped up on the dash. 

staring at the gnome bite on your ankle, you give a little giggle when you run through the events of the past couple of weeks in your head. 

“what’s so funny?” izuku muses, glancing at you with a little smile of his own. 

“just thinking,” you reply. “it’s only a couple of weeks into summer and we’ve seen freaky science journals, ufos, gnomes, and a sea monster. i bet todoroki’s going to take us to see the unicorns next.”

“i told you this summer wasn’t gonna be boring,” izuku laughs, nudging your thigh. 

“i can’t believe i’m saying this, but i’m glad my parents shipped me off out here,” you marvel, gazing at the forest passing by in the window. you look at izuku next to you and snort. “even if you did get dragged into this mess with me.”

he leans back in his seat to look at you once he parks the car behind the shack, that sheepish freckled grin you’ve grown so familiar with over the years radiant on his face. 

“no way i’d rather have it. whatever comes next, we’ll do it together — just like we always have.”

𒈔 ִ ࣪𓂀 𖤐 — journal entry 05:

ꍩꁲꀰꈼꋊ’ꋖ ꐞꂦꐇ ꌅꈼꁲꂠ ꈼꋊꂦꐇꁅꍩ ꋖꍩꂑꌚ ꀯꍩꁲꉣꋖꈼꌅ?

📖 🪬🗝️ — from the author: done at last! lowkey feel like i short-changed the izuku portion, but there’s been plenty of love for him already (and much to come!) hope you liked! massively grateful for everyone who tells me they’re enjoying it, genuinely makes my day!! <33 see you next time mwah

© kitkat13001 ➢ do not copy, translate, repost etc

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