#i mean maybe it is. i did just say i like scents; what was the point of this again. chicken

[cosmicalily]

"to be loved is to be remembered" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here

procedural memory | kim seungmin x fem!reader

procedural memory: a type of implicit memory that is categorised as the unconscious guide to the processes and tasks performed on a daily basis.

author's note: this might be one of my favourite seungmin fics i've ever written. and maybe i'm biased because he is my bias and i love strawberry matcha, but i think sometimes it's okay to be self indulgent. enjoy!

There were many things that Seungmin would do without realising, as if he was on autopilot. Actions that were ingrained into his daily routine, little activities that made up his day without his awareness. The way he made his bed, the double knot he always tied on his shoelaces, the route he took to the coffee shop where he worked. He loved his routine; he loved simplicity and consistency.

At work, he thought even less about his actions. He was a quick learner, and had mastered the art of perfect coffee early on. He heard the words ‘latte’ or ‘flat white’ and somehow the completed drink would appear in front of him thirty seconds later.

“Do you do iced strawberry matchas?” a voice asked, snapping Seungmin out of his coffee-scented daze. He looked at the shot he’d started running for a flat white and then at you, cheeks pink from the cold and eyes sparkling. A soft blue scarf was wrapped around your neck, covering your chin, and you wore a cosy navy cable knit sweater, just a little too big at the sleeves.

Seungmin thought intently. “We don’t,” he said truthfully, drumming his fingers on the benchtop. “But give me a second. I’ll try and make something for you.”

You beamed in excitement. “Thank you!”

“It’s no problem,” Seungmin gave a half smile back, digging around for the matcha powder. “Although, I have to say, who orders an iced drink in the middle of winter?”

Your cheeks flushed a little pinker and you rolled your eyes. “Shut up, it’s business for you, isn’t it? And I’ll tip, obviously, because it’s a custom order. They just don’t taste as good warm. I tried it once, and it was awful.”

“Was it?” Seungmin paused, tipping the ice cubes from your cup back into the tray and placing it into the freezer. “I’m going to try and change your mind. Out of confidence as a good barista, but also out of concern for your health, because you’re literally going to freeze as soon as you step outside with ice in your system.”

“And if I don’t like it?”

“It’s on the house.”

“Deal,” you agreed, leaning against the counter and watching as he poured the frothed strawberry milk, creating a little bear design. He leaned to grab a lid, but you knocked his hand away. “It’ll cover the art you did,” you protested, and he shook his head in amusement.

You breathed in the soft, sweet scent and took a sip, thinking hard. Seungmin watched intently, his attention distracted from the three coffee orders he had lined up to complete next. You smiled, and his face softened. “Good?” he asked.

“It’s shit,” you deadpanned, then burst out laughing. “It’s amazing! How much do I owe you for it?”

“Nothing,” Seungmin replied, eyes shining.

You opened your mouth to protest, but he gave you a warning look. “Do you do this often, then?” you asked, taking another long sip of your drink.

“What do you mean?”

“Save girls with silly drink orders from hypothermia.”

“Sure, it’s my favourite pastime,” Seungmin replied seriously, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. “No, not ever before. You’re the first, Strawberry.”

Your smile widened at the nickname. “Even if you’re lying, I feel special. Thank you…” you paused.

“Seungmin,” he finished, handing over a latte to a man behind you.

“Thank you, Seungmin. I’ll be back, I promise!”

He nodded. “I know you will. See you around, Miss Matcha.”

You snorted and walked towards the door, spinning around and blowing him a quick kiss. He winked and you burst into a fit of laughter, and once you were properly out of sight, he let a full smile creep across his face.

By your third visit to the coffee shop, he didn’t even need a prompt to make your order. By the fifth, your drink would be sitting, ready for you, extra hot. Even though you no longer had a reason to wait, you always stayed to talk to him, and he was thankful you did.

Soon, Seungmin became unconsciously aware of your routine, of your timing, of your daily scarf rotation. Once winter ended, he caved and made you your first iced strawberry matcha, which you declared better than any other iced drink you’d ever consumed. He still refused to let you pay, but he was always accepting of your newfound habit of leaning across the counter and giving him a quick kiss before you left for the morning. Initially on the cheek, but by mid spring, on the lips. Your kisses tasted of your mauve lipstick, cinnamon, and of course, strawberry matcha.

After a year of dating, you moved into his apartment. Seungmin, a lover of routine and consistency, found himself mesmerised by your sporadic actions and in the moment decisions. It didn’t frustrate him, the way he worried it would. Your presence was a constant, something dependable that he centred his new, irregular routine around, filled with evening walks and beach day trips. He learnt your habits, and soon, your actions were as familiar to him as his own. He would still make his bed in the morning, and you'd help him, finishing the job off with the two jellycat puppies you'd bought for your six month anniversary. He would tie a double knot in his shoelaces, and wait for you to slip on your ballet flats. Whilst you always had your signature drink at his shop, he knew you loved chamomile before bed, and there was always a mug of it by your bedside after you'd gotten out of the shower.

And of course, you did the same for him, but in your own way. You'd lay on top of him, playing with his hair for hours, explaining every single thing you adored about him. You cooked him dinner, and you'd sit on the counter beside him as he did the dishes. It was routine. You were each other's routines.

He kept working at the coffee shop, but now as a manager, although he always insisted on making your drink himself, and you would visit him, sometimes bringing your laptop and glasses with you to set up in a corner and work, other times bringing whatever book you were currently engrossed in.

“Hi baby,” you smiled up at him, stretching your arms and dog-earing your page.

“You know I hate when you do that,” he groaned, sitting beside you on the bench. Nevertheless, he pressed a kiss against your cheek and you giggled.

“I know, but like, it shows the love I have for my books. The ones that have crumpled pages and tea stains and frayed edges are the ones I read the most.”

Seungmin shook his head. “I’m just teasing. I love you and your broken books.”

“They aren’t broken-” you protested, but he cupped your face in his hands and silenced you with a soft kiss.

“I love you,” he repeated, eyes glossed over.

“I love you too,” you gazed back at him. Your book fell off your lap, but you didn’t move to grab it. The strawberry matcha Seungmin had brought over was probably cooling, but you didn’t care. It was moments like this where everything felt like muscle memory, where nothing felt new or uncomfortable. He was familiar.

He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers in his. You gently stroked his thumb, then whined when he let go of your hand to reach in his pocket. “What are you doing?” you asked, then you paused.

He’d slotted a ring on your finger.

“You can say no,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. "You can take it off. But it feels right for me. I saw it in the window the other day and I didn’t even think, I just bought it. Which is crazy, because you know I overthink and overplan everything.”

“I know, you’re a dork,” you smiled, but your eyes were glassy. “Why the fuck would I say no? Of course I’ll marry you.”

Seungmin breathed out and pulled you in a tight embrace. He felt warm, he smelled like coffee, and the skin of his neck was soft against your cheek. “I’m glad, because I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“I’m only doing it for the strawberry matcha, of course,” you quipped, chuckling.

“I’m only doing it out of pity,” he added.

“Dickhead.”

“Asshole.”

You leaned against him, his arms around your waist. He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your shoulder, and you rubbed his back. A buzz went off in his back pocket, a reminder that his break was over.

“So,” he broke the hug, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your drink’s probably cold. So I guess, as a good barista, I probably have to make you a new one.”

“I’m gonna make out with you for hours tonight, Kim Seungmin,” you declared. “You’re my dream boy.” You blew him a kiss as he stood up, taking your drink with him, and he winked in return.

You watched his reflection on the steel coffee machine, and saw him smile.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jungkook (29)⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: old taglist + taglist in reblog

//

“surpise!” 

the burst of familiar voices around you fills the space as jungkook gently pulls his hands away from your eyes.

the world comes into focus, and you’re met with a room full of smiling faces, balloons, and twinkling lights decorating the penthouse. 

your heart races as you take it all in—your parents and jungkook’s on the side with zion and zia in their arms, the guys with their playful grins, and even nam joon, who stands with a friendly nod.

“what’s all this?” you gasp, your voice a mix of disbelief and delight.

jungkook steps beside you, his eyes shining with excitement. 

“happy birthday, honey!” he grabs your hands, squeezing them as he beams down at you. “i wanted to do something special. we’ve got food, games, and your favorite cake… well, zion’s.” 

you can’t help but laugh, feeling overwhelmed by the love in the room. 

“this… this is—wow—thank you, honey. i love it. i love you,” you say, cupping his face with your hands. you tiptoe and kiss him softly. as you pull away, you smile. “honey, i can’t believe you did all this! i thought we were just having a quiet dinner.”

“quiet is overrated,” he teases, guiding you further into the room. “besides, you deserve to be celebrated. you know what this date means to us… to me.”

you can’t help but look at him with a soft smile.

it’s the way he always knows just what to say to make you feel seen and cherished. his words and actions fill you with warmth. it’s moments like these where you’re reminded that you truly chose the right person to love. 

jungkook’s sincerity is so raw and so real. 

this day, this celebration—it’s not just about the party or the cake, but about the life you’ve built together. 

it’s a celebration of the family you’ve become. 

together. 

as he catches your gaze, the quiet tenderness in his eyes speaks volumes, and in that moment, everything else fades. 

“don’t—” he starts, “we can cry about this later together. right now, enjoy the party.”

you muster a smile and nod at him. 

as you take a few steps forward, the sound of zia’s laughter catches your ear. you turn to see her in your mother’s arms, giggling with delight at the colorful decorations. you greet your parents warmly, receiving a kiss on your cheek from both of them.

“zion!” you call out, spotting your little boy running toward you, his face lighting up with joy. “you look so cute, my love! look at your little bow tie—”

zion rushes to you, wrapping his tiny arms around your legs. 

“happy birthday, mommy! am i handsome like daddy?” he blushes, looking up at you with innocent pride.

you look at jungkook, eyes wide and filled with admiration. then, you look back at zion with the same expression. kneeling down, you fix zion’s bow tie before attacking him with kisses. 

“yes, my love,” you tell zion. “so handsome. just like daddy.”

jungkook stands behind you, watching the scene with a fond smile.

“handsome like his daddy? maybe our father-son relationship has hope after all.” 

you hit his stomach with the back of your hand as you get up. he chuckles and ruffles zion’s hair, urging him to go to his grandpa. 

as you straighten up, you take a moment to gaze around the room, your heart swelling with gratitude. 

the penthouse is filled with the soft scent of flowers. their vibrant colors scattered across the space—roses, peonies, and hydrangeas in sleek vases add life to every corner. not to mention the birthday decorations are thoughtfully placed: silver streamers drape across the ceiling, and a "happy birthday" banner hangs delicately over the living room. a champagne tower sits elegantly on one side, glistening glasses stacked high, ready to be poured.

a few catering staff move quietly through the space, offering appetizers on silver trays, their soft footsteps blending into the background. the open kitchen reveals the omakase chef, expertly preparing food with graceful precision. jimin, taehyung, and hobi are sitting patiently on the other side of the kitchen island for the chef to get started. yoongi and his girlfriend are on the sidelines, watching and whispering in each others ear. meanwhile, jin and nam joon are talking to one another. 

everything is perfect. 

the warm, inviting ambiance makes the penthouse feel like the perfect mix of cozy luxury—everything perfectly curated yet relaxed, just like the man behind it all.

“honey, you’ve outdone yourself,” you say to jungkook, feeling giddy with appreciation. “the place is stunning. this is all so amazing. did you hire a party planner?”

he shakes his head and winces at you. 

“have you no faith in your visual director in advertisement husband?” jungkook scolds you. “god, it’s like i have to teach you a lesson or something—oh. hey, nam joon.”

just then, nam joon approaches, a slight smile on his face. 

“hey,” he acknowledges jungkook.

“thanks for coming,” jungkook offers him a lazy smile. 

“wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“you could though,” jungkook tightens his lips. “party would’ve been fine with or without you.” 

you hiss at him. 

nam joon laughs, taking jungkook’s tone lightly. soon, jungkook breaks character and laughs along. he then kisses your cheek and excuses himself so you and nam joon could talk. as jungkook joins the crowd, you open your arms and give nam joon a friendly hug. 

“thanks for coming! i know the firm can get busy this time of year—”

“would be much more manageable if you signed for partner,” he remarks casually, causing your expression to shift slightly. 

“timing was off,” you breathe. “you know that.”

“i know it,” he nods. “are you thinking of starting your own firm?” 

you shake your head, followed by a small smile. “no... jungkook has been talking about starting his own company and i feel like that will be a better focus for us... don't get me wrong; i love being a lawyer... but things got intense and mentally so draining so fast. it took a lot from me… from my family. truth be told, i miss it… all of it. court, the cases, the people—but i’m also a little afraid. i don’t want to drown in my work life like that again. so… i guess i’m mustering up the courage… and zia is almost one! i can’t… not be here for these kinds of things.” 

nam joon understands you.

he looks at you softly, respecting everything you said. out of everyone, he probably knows you the best when it comes to your career. you have worked extremely hard to be where you are now… he doesn’t want to see it go to waste. 

which is why he makes a pitch. 

“would you ever be interested in teaching law?” 

you blink. 

“i have connections to most of the law schools around here… i heard there were a few openings too. i can refer you. if you hate it or if you ever decide you’re ready to come back… come back and accept the partner position. our firm will wait for you… i will wait for you. in return, don’t stop doing what you love but don’t let it kill you either. you have fought enough and earned your place, ___. you're a good lawyer too. it wouldn't be right for me to stand here and you go.”

“oh my god. y-yes. nam joon—”

“alright. consider this a birthday gift.” he smiles, before patting you on the back. then, he takes out his phone and begins to type. “i’ll email a few of my connections right now just so it’s like a real present. happy birthday, ___.”

before you can even thank him, he turns and gets on call with someone.

you sigh.

but you smile.

you're thankful.

with the party in full swing, you weave through the crowd, hugging friends and family, sharing laughter and stories. you take everything in, feeling the warmth of their love. this is where you belong. this is where you are loved.

as the room fills with a soft hum of conversation and laughter, jungkook's arms slip around you, holding you close as you both sway together, grounding you in the comfort of his presence.

"ready to cut the cake?" he murmurs, his voice gentle, but that familiar spark in his eyes still present.

you nod eagerly, feeling a rush of joy from the gathering, from the laughter of your closest friends and family. jungkook then raises his voice to call everyone over. soon, the room fills with smiling faces, and zion giggles as he darts toward you, small arms outstretched. you bend down to scoop him up, his little hands curling around your neck as he snuggles close.

jungkook joins you at your side, holding zia in his embrace, her tiny hands reaching for you as she giggles.

just as everyone is about to sing happy birthday, jungkook clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention.

“before we sing and cut the cake,” he begins, his eyes never leaving yours, “i just wanted to say a few words.”

a hush falls over the crowd, and jungkook smiles, taking a deep breath, his gaze filled with something that makes your heart race.

“thank you all for coming. i know keeping this a secret from ___ wasn’t easy since she’s nosy—”

“hey!” you frown, playfully smacking his arm.

“but we love her,” jungkook pauses, glancing at you with a teasing smile.

the crowd laughs with you.

“... and with that being said, honey, i’m so glad i have the privilege of being your husband. from the life we’ve built together, our children, our home—to our friends and families—you have made every aspect of my life happier, brighter, and fuller. even in our most difficult moments, i have never doubted that you are the one for me. i have chosen you every day, and will spend the rest of my life doing so… and you know? i used to be afraid of time. not having enough of it to spend with you and our children… but not so much anymore. every day, you hold my hand, make me laugh, and kiss me—giving meaning to our forever. so, here… right now, i want to say this to you: our time is forever. ___, if it takes bending every rule, making new ones, or breaking every piece of time itself—for me to be the one you love in every lifetime—then i’d do it.”

his voice is strong, clear, yet filled with a gentleness that brings a lump to your throat. “i have seen the way you love and i have felt it every day in every possible way. i feel it in our success and in our losses. god, am i ever so blessed to feel it. ___, i love you, always. you are my divine. my everlasting love. my heart in every lifetime... and i—truly, madly, deeply—i am yours forever.”

the world falls away, leaving only jungkook’s words hanging in the air.

they’re rich with love and promise. you feel zion’s small weight in your arms, his head resting against your shoulder, a gentle reminder of everything you and jungkook have created together.

your eyes blur as the room and faces around you seem to melt into a soft haze. there’s only jungkook’s gaze—kind, loving, forever.

a shaky breath escapes your lips as you look at him, your heart swelling with a love so deep it feels almost impossible to contain.

zion shifts in your arms, sensing the emotion in the room. his little fingers reach up to pat your cheek, grounding you. you press a kiss to the top of his head, gathering yourself, your voice catching as you try to find the words to answer jungkook’s confession.

you give a small, breathless laugh, holding zion closer as you look at the man who is both your beginning and your forever.

“jungkook,” you manage, your voice thick, barely more than a whisper. “how do i even… how do i follow that?”

the room chuckles softly, a few sniffles heard from the crowd, but you barely notice as you take a step closer to jungkook. his gaze pulls you in, that warmth surrounding you.

“i’ll start off by saying… everyone knows jungkook’s guilty pleasure is twilight, right?”

a few gasps are heard, and jungkook’s eyes widen in mock horror.

“honey—”

“so i’ll say this: for every second, every memory, every joy, and every heartache… i choose you too… because, honey, no measure of time with you will ever be long enough, but we’ll start with forever.”

jungkook chuckles, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. it’s a mix of embarrassment and unmistakable affection lighting up his face. even though he’s trying to fight it, you can see that your words have touched him, and it makes you smile.

your voice wavers, and you pause, catching his gaze one last time. “and i believe in that forever of ours—more than i ever believed in anything.”

as the last words leave your lips, you see the pink flush deepen across jungkook’s cheeks. the surprise in his eyes melts into that soft, adoring smile—the one reserved just for you. the room is silent for a beat, as if everyone is letting the moment settle in, before they break into applause, a few playful whistles cutting through the warm atmosphere.

then hobi calls out, “light your candles and blow them out! zion’s drooling already!”

laughter erupts, and you find yourself laughing too, the joy of the moment infectious.

holding zion close, you turn to the cake, the soft glow of the candles flickering across your face. jungkook lights them for you, and for a brief second, you close your eyes, making a wish. the room hums as everyone sings you happy birthday.

with a gentle breath, you blow out the candles, and the room erupts into cheers and applause. voices ring with love and laughter. zion giggles in your arms, clapping his small hands in excitement, his face beaming with pride as he looks up at you. you kiss his cheek, smiling through your own laughter.

jungkook leans over, slipping his arm around your waist, and presses a tender kiss to your temple.

“what’d you wish for, mama?” he asks softly, his voice low and full of warmth.

“oh… you know,” you sigh, leaning into his embrace. “forever.”

[luvdwkki]

Back in time

Felix x Gn!reader

Word count: 3,094

Summary: You and Felix have been together for three years, so he decides to take you on a date that revisits your past.

It was Felix’s idea, and he’d been planning it for weeks, adding small, thoughtful touches to make the night unforgettable. On a warm, breezy Friday evening, he parked outside your office just as the sun was beginning to dip in the sky, casting a golden glow over the street. As he waited, he ran a hand nervously over his shirt, making sure everything was just right.

Finally, he saw you step out of the building, your face lighting up as you spotted him. You walked over with that effortless grace he loved, your hair catching the light and framing your face in soft waves. As you approached, he reached over to the passenger seat and lifted a bouquet of your favourite flowers toward you. They were wrapped in pale pink tissue paper with a small satin ribbon tied around the stems, just the way you liked them.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you opened the car door. “Felix, what’s all this?” you asked, your voice full of delight as you climbed into the car and settled into the seat. You took the bouquet gently, lifting it to your face to breathe in the soft, sweet scent.

Felix grinned, his eyes warm as he watched your reaction. “Just a little something for the person I love,” he said with a playful smile, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “And... I was thinking we could go back to where it all began.”

Your lips curled into a knowing smile. You leaned back in your seat, twirling one of the peonies between your fingers as you looked at him with a mix of affection and curiosity. “You mean the coffee shop on Rose Street?” you asked, your voice soft and filled with memories, as if you could already see yourselves sitting there, just as you did three years ago.

“Exactly,” Felix replied, reaching over to squeeze your hand gently. He felt a familiar thrill at the touch, a warmth that hadn’t faded even after three years together. He shifted the car into gear and pulled out onto the road, your fingers still entwined.

As he drove, you began to reminisce, laughter and warmth filling the car like a cocoon around you. Felix brought up the first moments of that evening, how he’d stood outside the café for a good ten minutes before working up the courage to walk in, rehearsing his opening line in his head.

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Really? You seemed so calm and collected,” you teased, squeezing his hand. “I never would’ve guessed.”

He let out a sheepish laugh, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. “Trust me, I was far from calm. I was so distracted I could barely focus on my coffee. I kept thinking I’d mess it up somehow, like maybe I’d say the wrong thing, or you’d think I was boring. But then…you started telling me that story about the stray beagle you tried to adopt when you were seven, and all my nerves just melted away. I knew right then that we’d get along.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you chuckled, covering your mouth as you recalled the story you had shared with him that night. “Oh, you mean the one where I tried to sneak a neighbour’s dog into the house and pretended he was a stray so my parents would let me keep him?”

Felix laughed too, shaking his head. “Yes, exactly. That’s when I knew you were something special—this mix of sweet and bold and just the right amount of mischievous. I could’ve listened to you talk all night.”

You looked down at your entwined hands, your smile softening. “And you…you had this quiet way about you, like you were listening to every single word. You looked at me like I was the only person in the world.” He paused, glancing at you with a tender smile. “You still do.”

You felt your heart swell, and he lifted your hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss across your knuckles. “That’s because you are, Felix.”

The rest of the drive was filled with the warmth of shared memories and soft laughter, each story making you feel as if you were falling in love all over again.

When you reached the café, Felix parked the car and quickly stepped around to your side to open the door, his hand outstretched as if he were holding something fragile and priceless. You took his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his grip as he helped you out. For a moment, you stood there, side by side, taking in the sight of the little coffee shop on Rose Street, its windows softly glowing in the early evening light.

Felix looked over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Ready to go back in time?”

You smiled back, and you walked toward the entrance, hand in hand. Stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped by the warm, rich scent of freshly ground coffee, mingled with the faint aroma of vanilla and cinnamon from the pastries in the display case. The coffee shop hadn’t changed at all in three years—the same wooden tables, mismatched chairs, and bookshelves lined the walls. The hum of conversation from other patrons filled the cosy space.

Felix led you to the corner booth near the window, the same one you had shared on your first date. It was a small, intimate spot with just enough space for two people to sit close, overlooking the street outside. As you slid into your old seats, Felix’s grin grew wider, his eyes twinkling as if he were holding onto a delicious secret.

You looked around, taking in the nostalgic setting, your heart fluttering with memories. “This place…it feels exactly the same,” you murmured, tracing your fingers along the edge of the table. “Do you remember how nervous we were? I could barely keep my hands from shaking.”

Felix chuckled, reaching over to place his hand over yours. “Oh, I remember,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “But look at us now. Three years later, and I’m still sitting here wondering how I got lucky enough to find you.”

Your eyes met, and for a moment, you both fell silent, wrapped in a feeling that needed no words. The waitress arrived, breaking the spell, and without even glancing at the menu, Felix ordered your old drinks: a hot chocolate for himself and a chamomile tea for you, just as it had been that first night.

As you waited for your drinks, Felix slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, folded note. “Remember this?” he asked, his voice soft but tinged with excitement.

Curious, You reached for the note, unfolding it slowly. Your eyes widened, and you let out a soft gasp as you took in the small, hand-drawn cartoon of a floppy-eared beagle, a familiar detail from the kidnapped beagle story. Underneath, in Felix’s handwriting, were the words “Our First Memory,” with a tiny, delicate heart drawn just above the dog’s head.

“You kept this?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. You looked up at him, your eyes glistening. “All this time?”

Felix’s expression softened, and he nodded, his gaze steady and warm. “I’ve kept everything,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing yours on the table. “Every note, every ticket stub, every little memory. I want to remember every little thing about us. I never want to forget even a single moment.”

You felt your heart swell, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his words. You looked back down at the drawing, your fingers brushing over the lines of the little beagle, drawn with such care and love. This wasn’t just a reminder of your first date—it was a symbol of everything Felix had come to mean to you.

Your drinks arrived, and as you lifted your cups in a small toast to each other, you couldn’t help but think of how far you'd come, from the nervous excitement of that first date to the deep, steady love you shared now. Felix took a slow sip of his hot chocolate, his eyes never leaving your face, and you felt a little flutter in your chest, just as you had three years ago. You could feel the weight of his gaze and gave him a playful smile over the rim of your cup. you knew at that moment that no matter how many years passed, this memory—and every other memory you'd built together—would be cherished for a lifetime.

You lingered over your drinks, letting your conversation drift naturally between reminiscing and laughter. Felix brought up little details you had forgotten, moments you hadn’t realised he’d noticed. “Do you remember how I nearly spilled my coffee?” he said, grinning sheepishly. “I was so distracted that night, trying to focus on what you were saying, but all I could think about was how I’d never met anyone like you.”

You laughed, covering your mouth as you remembered. “Oh, yes! You were gripping that mug like it was a lifeline!” you teased. “I actually thought you didn’t like me, you were so quiet.” you paused, your eyes dancing as you looked back at him. “And yet here we are.”

Felix reached across the table, taking your free hand in his. His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, a simple touch that made your heart skip. “I was nervous because I liked you so much. And then…” He chuckled, leaning back a little, “you started laughing, and I was done for. I still remember your laugh from that night—how you tried to hide it with your hand, like you were embarrassed.”

You rolled your eyes, blushing. “I was! But then I saw the look on your face, like you were seeing something amazing. I don’t think anyone had ever looked at me like that before.” You glanced down, feeling the warmth spread through your body, then looked back up at him with a soft smile. “I think that’s when I started to fall for you.”

You continued talking about that night, each detail unfolding like pages in a cherished storybook. Felix told you how he’d noticed the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, how your voice softened when you talked about things that mattered to you, and how when you left the café that night, he’d already known he wanted to hold your hand, even though he was too shy to make the first move.

As you finished your drinks, Felix leaned in, his voice low and sincere. “That night…I knew it was only the beginning. And now, every time I’m with you, I feel the same way.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart full. “I feel it too.”

You sat in quiet contentment for a moment, watching the café come to life around you, the other customers and clinking glasses a comforting backdrop. Finally, Felix took your hand again, helping you up, and together you left the café, stepping out into the evening light.

The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and gold as you began your walk to the park just a few blocks away. You walked in a companionable silence, hand in hand, as the sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow over the trees that lined the path. The air was crisp and tinged with the faint scent of autumn leaves. As you strolled along the winding trails, Felix pulled you a little closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You meandered down paths you had walked three years ago, paths where you’d once laughed nervously, unsure of where things would lead. But now, you walked with an ease and familiarity that only time and love could bring, each step feeling as natural as breathing.

As you reached a clearing where the last light of day settled over the lake, Felix stopped and turned to you, a warm, tender smile on his face. He brushed a stray hair from your cheek, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than usual.

“Three years ago, I didn’t know what life would be like with you,” he murmured, his voice soft. “But now…I can’t imagine my life without you.”

You looked into his eyes, your own heart full as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Neither can I,” you whispered.

You continued your walk as the last rays of sunlight faded, your hands entwined as naturally as if you had been made to fit together.

As you strolled along the path, the world around you grew quiet, the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle hum of crickets filling the air. The evening light faded to dusk, casting a peaceful glow over the park. Eventually, you approached a secluded spot where a small pond lay nestled among trees. The water was still, reflecting the fading colours of the sky above, and a faint mist rose from its surface, lending an ethereal beauty to the scene.

Felix slowed, glancing over at you as if gauging the perfect moment. He gently squeezed your hand, bringing you to a stop beside the pond’s edge. The serene quiet seemed to stretch between you, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat, and for a moment, you simply stood there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence.

Finally, Felix turned to face you, his expression tender and serious. “I have one more memory for us to make tonight,” he said, his voice soft but carrying a depth of emotion that made your heart skip a beat.

Your breath caught, your pulse quickening as you saw him reach into his jacket pocket, your mind racing with the possibilities of what this moment could hold. Your eyes widened as his hand emerged, holding a small velvet box—a box that, even before it opened, seemed to hold a thousand promises. You could feel your heart flutter wildly, your gaze locked on his face as he took a deep, steadying breath and with a graceful certainty, dropped down onto one knee.

The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you together. His gaze fixed on yours with such love and vulnerability that your eyes filled with tears. In the soft glow of dusk, Felix looked up at you, his expression a beautiful blend of hope and devotion, but you could see the flicker of nerves in his eyes, a touch of uncertainty that made him all the more endearing.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice steady but thick with feeling, “for three years, you’ve filled my life with laughter, love, and more happiness than I could ever hope for.” His hand, still holding the box, trembled slightly as he spoke, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve made me feel more understood, more whole, and more alive than I ever knew I could be. I want to keep walking this path with you—for as many years as you’ll have me.”

He opened the small box, revealing a delicate, shimmering ring nestled inside—a perfect symbol of the life he wanted to share with you. The diamond caught the fading light, casting a small glimmer between you, but you barely saw it; all you could focus on was Felix, his face filled with so much love and hope.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, each word carrying the weight of his love for you.

Your heart overflowed, your hand flying to your mouth as you took in the depth of his words, the sincerity in his gaze. Your vision blurred with tears, and you nodded, a joyful, choked laugh escaping you as you found your voice. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion, then, louder, “Yes, Felix. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

A radiant smile spread across his face as he rose to his feet, and you threw your arms around him, holding him tightly as he slipped the ring onto your finger. You stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling as if the world had stopped just for you, as if time itself wanted to savour this perfect moment.

In that quiet spot by the pond, as the first stars appeared in the sky above, you shared a gentle, lingering kiss—a kiss that promised a lifetime of memories still to be made, side by side.

As you sat down, wrapping your arms around each other, time seemed to slow, as if the whole universe was holding its breath to honour the moment you had just shared. The soft glow of the fading sunset bathed everything around you in warm, golden light, casting long shadows across the ground. The trees whispered in the breeze, their leaves rustling gently, as though nature itself was quietly celebrating their love.

Felix held you close, his cheek resting against the top of your head, the warmth of your body pressed against his. You sat in peaceful silence, the air between you filled with unspoken words. There was something so right, so completely perfect about this moment. It was as if you had circled back to where it all began—this very path where you’d walked together three years ago, sharing tentative smiles, shy glances, and stories of your lives. Now, you sat side by side in the stillness, your hearts beating together, knowing you had just created something even more special.

You leaned back slightly, your fingers gently tracing the edge of the ring on your finger, still overwhelmed by the beauty of what had just happened. You looked up at Felix, your eyes soft and filled with emotion. He gazed back at you with the same tenderness, the same love that had been there from the very beginning. There was no rush, no need to say anything else. In that quiet, sacred moment, you understood that you had just created another memory on this path—a memory to join all the others that had led you here, to this place where you had chosen to build your future together.

It was as if the entire evening had been a beautiful thread, weaving together your past, your present, and your future. The setting sun, now sinking below the horizon, cast its last rays over you, and you realised that this memory would too be one you carried in your hearts forever. Just like all the others—your first date, your first kiss, the moments of joy and challenges you had faced together—it would stay with you, a constant reminder of how far you had come and how deeply you loved each other.

Hi hiiii, 2nd fic kinda nervous. This wasn't the one I thought I was gonna post but I felt like the other one was taking too long to finish so I decided to just post this one for now :3 This one actually has a happy ending since I managed to break all your hearts last time �� I hope you guys enjoy it!

#stray kids#bang chan#bang chan x reader#stray kids imagines#bang chan x y/n#skz x reader#skz imagines#stray kids angst#bang chan angst#bang chan imagines#skz x female reader#skz fanfic#skz angst#chan x y/n#skz fic#stray kids x you#chan angst#chan fic#chan x female reader#chan x male reader#chan x g/n reader#skz x male reader

[amalythea]

Hehe for your sweet event;

5. “the moon is beautiful, isn't it?” with Kazuha !! :3

Feel free to make it very very selfship coded 🤭💕💕

「the moon is beautiful, isn't it? 」

⤷ info: kazuha || fluff || wc: 516

⤷ warnings: none! though this is very much selfship coded so,,,

⤷ extra: omg vivi hello!! i saw this and started plotting immediately! i hope i did it justice hehe

The soft rustle of leaves and the distant call of crickets set the stage for a quiet night in Inazuma. The breeze carried the familiar scent of the sea, gently stirring your hair as you sat beside Kazuha on a small grassy hill overlooking the water. The moon was full tonight, casting a silvery glow over everything. Shadows danced along the edges of the trees, and you could just make out the sparkle of stars overhead.

You had shared so many moments like this with him over the years, but tonight felt… different. Maybe it was the way he looked out over the landscape, his eyes reflecting the moonlight as though they held the night sky within them. Or maybe it was the slight brush of his shoulder against yours, a silent presence that felt both grounding and electrifying.

Your heart was pounding, and you wondered if he could hear it in the silence. You wanted to speak, to tell him what had been growing inside of you since you were young. But as you opened your mouth, you found yourself hesitating, the words suddenly caught in your throat. What if it changed everything?

Kazuha’s voice, as soft as a whisper, broke the silence.

"The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?"

The simplicity of his words carried a weight that made your heart stutter. In Inazuma, you’d heard it was a roundabout way of saying something far deeper. But did he mean it that way?

You turned to look at him, studying his profile as he gazed at the moon, his expression serene yet touched by something you couldn’t quite name. Gathering your courage, you whispered back, “Yes… it really is.”

He turned to meet your gaze, and in that moment, it felt as though the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you beneath the night sky. There was something in his eyes—a question, a hope—that mirrored the feelings you’d kept buried for so long.

"All this time…" he started softly, his voice barely louder than the breeze. "I wondered if you felt the same way."

Your breath caught. He took your hand, his thumb gently brushing against your skin, and continued, "You've always been by my side, and I thought… if I were to confess, I’d want it to be in a moment like this."

The way he looked at you, with such warmth and sincerity, made your heart feel as though it might burst. The words spilled from you, no longer held back. “Kazuha… I’ve felt this way for so long. I just didn’t know if you… if you felt it too.”

He smiled, a soft, almost relieved smile. His hand squeezed yours, anchoring you to the reality of this shared moment.

“Then… we don’t have to wonder anymore.” He gently pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours as he murmured, “For tonight, and for as many nights as there are moons, I’ll be here with you.”

In the quiet that followed, you sat there together, your fingers entwined, hearts finally laid bare beneath the beauty of the moon.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

That's what he said!

I was thinking about what my Tav would have said to Astarion after the Halsin proposition. I was sad to know we didn't have the option to tell Astarion we told him no. I feel like that would have been a great trust bonding moment for them. So i wrote it. Or, I attempted..im not an expert writer.

“You wouldn’t believe the conversation I just had with Halsin.” She says to him in a gossiping tone.  

Astarion laughs loud and openly.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me about this.”

“Did he talk to you about it?” she asks, slightly confused by his reaction.

“I guessed. The man can’t stay quiet about “enjoying the freedom of natures gifts”. Ha ha, I bet he outlaw clothing if he could.”

His pantomime of Halsin calms her nerves.

“Funny you would say that. He did mention something along those lines.”  

An awkward pause hangs in the air.

“Well? Don’t keep me in suspense darling. What was said exactly?”

“Well, He uh,  said that I stirred his heart and he wants more than to just sit by the fire with me.”

The heat was creeping up in her face. It was one thing to have heard it from Halsin, but to repeat it to Astarion had her embarrassed.

He smiles at her.

 “I can’t say I blame him. You are quite unique and alluring, darling. And he’s been eyeing you since the grove if you haven’t noticed.”

She had not. She was so wrapped up in helping everyone with their own plights she didn’t even consider it.   

“So? What was the outcome of this conversation?” He asks, quickly looking at his nails to distract from the anxiety that flashed across his eyes.

She sees it. Her heart hurts with the idea he thinks she might have agreed. He knows me better than that, doesn’t he?

Desperate to erase that look she reaches for her default disarming tool. Humor.

“I told him to stuff it.” she says, crossing her arms and throwing her nose in the air in a haughty manner.

Astarion’s eyes shift to her as he lifts a brow at her sudden change of attitude.

 She smiles wide, nudging him with her elbow. “Get it?! Stuff It. You know, because he’s a bear.”

Astarion rolls his eyes dramatically but smiles despite his attempt to seem annoyed.

“But then...” she says, bringing her index finger to her lips as if deep in thought. “Maybe he thought I wanted him to stuff me…oh no.”

Astarion huffs before leaning in and issuing a warning.

“Best to stay clear of the woods for a bit then.”

Aloria laughs. Pleased to see the anxiety leave his gaze.

“You know I would never do that to you, right?” she asks quietly, throwing every ounce of care into her eyes for him to see.

His face softens at her words for a moment, before darting his eyes past her to check to see if anybody is watching.  

“I know. I was being foolish. But thank you for saying it.”

These types of moments are difficult for him. He loves the adoration she lavishes on him but does not like to share it beyond their own private world. She notices his discomfort and redirects the conversation back to playful banter.  

“I mean, not after all the hard work you put into scent marking me.” she says, closing the distance between them, walking her fingers up his chest and gently tapping the end of his nose.  

His nose scrunches in response.

“What?”

“Halsin said your scent lingers on my skin. He says I smell like you.” She rests her chin on his chest. Her eyes hold his lovingly. 

“I….well..you do tend to steal my shirt to sleep in. It’s hardly my fault.”

Aloria runs the backs of her hands lightly over the fabric of his vest. “Do you know what you smell like?”  

He stares down at her, confused about the odd choice of topic.  “Of course I am aware of what I smell like. I make it myself.”

“No, not your perfume, just you.”  

Astarion’s face scrunches again. “Undead, obviously. What are you getting at?”

Aloria grabs him by the lapels. Quickly lifting on her toes and pulling him forward to bury her nose in his neck and takes an obnoxiously loud snuff of his skin.

Astarion barks out a clipped giggle before clearing his throat and feigning annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

She hums against his throat. “Mmmmm danger, and sweetness and ..wait ..is that a hint of arrogance? Or is that sarcasm?”.

She makes a show of snuffing him again. “Ooo, I think that is definitely sarcasm. Spicy!”

Astarion begins to playfully push her away, but not before she quickly presses her lips close to his ear. Whispering this time so no one nearby can catch what she says.

“You smell like the air after it rains on parched ground. Like the deep earth of a root cellar. Like ancient undiscovered places. Quiet and metallic.  I like it. I like it very much.” Driving the message home by gently running the end of her nose along the edge of his ear.

Astarion’s shoulders drop as he turns his head to catch her eyes as she pulls away. The seriousness of her confession understood under the guise of playfulness. These moments were theirs and theirs alone.

She smiles wide, then smashes her lips against his cheek, kissing him with an audible smack.

He tuts, resuming to push her away and wave her off with a flourish of his hands.

She begins to walk away, but turns, jutting her hip out and running her hand dramatically over her ass and biting her lower lip at him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, darling.” He says salaciously.

She laughs and walks away to check on the other companions for the night.  

“Hey, what’s burning?!” she shouts loudly watching as Gale scrambles to check the pot that is in fact, not burning.

[shriekthemighty]

I want to be the type of person with a Signature Scent so bad, but finding scents I like is shockingly difficult, especially when buying online. Unless a scent is the most basic thing imaginable (ie. the free sample I got that was just called Strawberry. It smells like artificial strawberries.) then there is a 98% chance it smells nothing like the description.

And I know that scents change when you wear them, but that shit costs money! If I already have a high chance of not liking the actual smell of a scent, despite liking all of the things it claims to smell like, and then I have to factor in the possibility of liking it in the bottle, but not on my skin, then how am I supposed to find a scent I actually want to wear without spending hundreds of dollars?

Is there some sort of secret code to deciphering what a scent is described as versus what it will actually smell like once you receive it? I am aware of the concept of top, bottom, and middle notes but like, for example, I recently bought Attempted Murder and Captain Moonlite from Sucreabeille. Both of them mention smoke and wood in their scent notes. I haven't worn either of them yet, but neither of them smell even remotely like smoke or wood just from sniffing them. Attempted Murder smells strongly of cornchips/feet, which is a problem I've had with a few Sucreabeille scents.

Why do they not smell like what they say they will? I just want to smell like a tree. :(

[cameronsprincess]

rafe bullying you during sex until you cry and feeling a little bad when you’re still crying after and you get to have sweet-ish rafe >>>>

he’s so mean 😣😣

CW: cry baby!reader, mean!bully!rafe, soft!rafe, unprotected sex, degrading and praise.

“why the fuck are you cryin’ huh? so fuckin’ pathetic, can’t even take my cock without turning into a little crybaby.”

rafe’s harsh words have more tears spilling down your cheeks. he was usually mean during sex, and you didn’t mind it, but he was being so mean today, and you weren’t sure why.

you hiccup, sniffling as you try and calm your breathing and get the tears under control. “i-i’m s-sorry… i- it hurts, r-rafe.”

“it hurts r-rafe,” he mocks, his hips never slowing their pace as he pounds himself inside you. “toughen the fuck up won’t ya?”

your arms wrap around his neck and you dig your nails into the smooth skin of his back. he hisses in a breath when he feels your long nails break the skin, “fuck, love fuckin’ this sweet cunt, love the way your nails dig into my back, you’re nothin’ but a hole for me to use, yeah?”

his hips pick up in speed, the swollen head of his cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot causing more tears to blur your vision. he was making you feel so good, but his words stung, he’d never made you feel so fucking worthless, like maybe he really did only view you as a hole for him to use, an outlet to get his frustrations out. you choke out a sob, your orgasm ripping through you hard, making your body shake and more tears flow uncontrollably down your face.

“that’s it, cum all over my cock. make a fuckin’ mess, such a good little slut.”

his hips begin to stutter, thrusts growing sloppier before he swells inside you, his dick pulsing as he cums deep inside you.

he stills completely, his head dropping into the crook of your neck, soft kisses being left on your slick skin. he slowly pulls himself from inside you, rolling off of you and onto his back.

you pull away from him, rolling onto your side and curling yourself into a fetal position, silent sobs wracking your body. you’re not even sure why you’re still crying, you know he probably didn’t mean any of the things he said… right? he couldn’t have actually meant all the mean and degrading things he said..

rafe places a gentle hand on your shoulder, rolling you to face him. his chest tightens when he sees the tears still flowing freely down your face. “hey.. talk to me, what’s wrong?”

your blood shot eyes meet his, “you.. you were being s-so mean… more than usual.. i-i just need a minute.”

rafe can’t help but feel guilty, he was frustrated when you came over, but he didn’t mean to take it all out on you. he knew you liked being degraded, but maybe he did take it too far this time.

he gently wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. he holds you tightly, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head and softly running his fingers up and down your back.

“hey, i’m sorry.. i-i didn’t mean to take it too far, alright? i was just frustrated when you got here, and i know you don’t mind when i’m rough and degrading, but.. i guess i did take it too far.”

you sniff, burying your face deeper into his chest and inhaling his intoxicating scent. “s’fine. i-i just didn’t know if you actually meant all the mean things you were saying.. like am i just really a hole for you to use? do you not actually love me?”

rafe pushes you back, one hand gripping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “absolutely not. i love you, more than i’ve ever loved anyone, alright? never ever think i don’t. i’m sorry, baby.”

RAFE TAGLIST: @princessslutt // @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles // @rafesthroatbaby // @sturnioloshacker // @starkeysprincess // @rafescurtainbangz // @atorturedpoetx // @redhead1180 // @jjsmarijuana // @romaescapes // @kisses4angel // @maybankslover // @bellbottombaby // @simars3 // @rafesgiirl // @urbimom // @heartsforrafecam // @antagonize-me-motherfucker // @araminsstuff075 // @araminsstufff // @chaneydoll // @bi-zowee // @uraesthete // @rafemotherfuckingcameron // @princesssuki21 // @zrm004 // @ijustwanttoreadlols // @baennied // @hyperfixationgirl // @justheretoreadthestories // @chiaraanatra // @chimindity // @juniebugg // @unsaidjaelinrose // @momoewn // @spid6y // @wearemadeofstardust0 // @vallovesyou

rafe cameron masterlist | requests | taglist form

[peachylynnie]

sick

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: in which sylus sneaks into your apartment and finds you sick. yet, you're not resting. why?

contains: sylus x mc!reader (they're not dating but sylus is pining and reader is confused), reader is implied to be in college, slightly obsessive sylus, mentions of violence and sickness, suggestive themes, cussing, and fluff.

a/n: i got sick yesterday. what better way to rest than to write about sylus? do NOT copy or steal my work. sylus WOULD NOT endorse plagiarism :)

you don't want to admit it. you really don't. but you're sick. there's no denying that with how short of breath you are, how nauseous you feel, and the goddamn soreness in the back of your throat that didn't go away with the first sip of water.

"shit…" you mumble as you sluggishly move to empty the dishwasher as your roommate asked. it's bad enough that you were sick, but you were also stressed out of your mind. midterms have been kicking your ass this semester. big assignments have been piling up on your already heavy shoulders. in essence, this was a burnout month, and all that lack of sleep and unparalleled stress had finally caught up to you. in the form of a cold, that is.

"of all the times," you grumble as you struggle to stack the dishes in the cabinet. "why now…" indeed, this was a terrible time to get sick. how were you to complete all your tasks while feeling absolutely miserable? you glance at the microwave clock in desperation. 10:00 PM, it read. although you meant to sigh a breath of relief, you let out a painful cough. maybe you could finish an assignment or two by midnight. that way, you can focus on studying tomorrow, you thought to yourself.

you sniff as you return to the dishwasher to unload the rest of the dishes. as much as you were happy for your roommate leaving for the weekend to finally see her family, you couldn't help but feel resentful. why were you here struggling to do the dishes while she got to have fun? shaking your head at your bitter thoughts, you bend down, trying to grab the utensils from the dishwasher. keyword: trying.

the sudden pair of strong arms that wrapped around you prevented you from doing so. normally, you would've swiftly elbowed the person behind you and turned around to land a hard blow that would have them seeing stars. instead, you exhale shakily. you recognize the mysterious backhugger's scent. the scent of sweet wine and sharp citrus. sylus.

how the hell did he get in? you don’t remember giving him a spare key when you told him your address. you look behind you, angling your head to meet his garnet eyes. "i did not give you my address just so you can sneak in like this," you say, trying your best not to sound like you're dying.

unfortunately, the nasal tone of your voice does not go unnoticed by sylus. instead of offering his usual quips, sylus furrows his brows and unclasps his right arm from your waist. you try not to flinch at the chill of his slender fingers touching your forehead. he frowns. "you're sick."

you immediately avert your gaze. "i'm not sick," you mutter as you try to bend down once more to grab the stupid utensils from the dishwasher. sylus doesn't let go. this time, he spins you around with his left arm, making sure that he can see you properly.

"you're burning up, sweetie." sylus says as flips the hand on your forehead for good measure. "you're sick and you know it."

you roll your eyes, squirming to get out of his grip. you did not want sylus to see you like this. a sick, miserable mess incapable of doing something as simple as emptying the dishwasher. you had an image to uphold after all. being vulnerable with someone like him could mean getting hurt again. last time you were vulnerable with someone… well, let's say you learned your lesson.

weakly, you push at sylus' arm around your waist with your small hands. you try not to think about how minuscule they looked next to sylus' deliciously veiny forearms. great, you're sick, and your mind decides to lust after sylus' arms. you shiver at your thoughts and attempt to push sylus' grip away once more. normally, escaping sylus' hold would be a reasonable task for you. after all, your sparring sessions with him prepared you to get out of sticky situations. but you were sick and exhausted out of your mind. all you could manage was a feeble squirm.

sylus' gaze moves from his hand on your forehead to your eyes. your half-lidded baggy eyes. his frown deepens. you looked extremely fatigued. your face was noticeably pale, and your intake of breath was short. not to mention, sylus could see the slight wince of pain whenever you tried to swallow your saliva. sylus sighs as he removes his hand on your forehead and replaces it with his own. you were neglecting yourself again.

under normal circumstances, you would've shied away from sylus' physical advancements. his hand on the small of your back? an immediate flinch and glare, signaling him to stop. a tap on the crown of your head? a swift jerk of your neck and avoidance of eye contact. instead—again, you blame it on your exhaustion—you tiredly close your eyes, relishing in sylus' cool forehead against your heated one. no resistance to be shown.

you don't see it, but sylus' sharp eyes soften at the sight of you accepting his touch. even with the eye bags and ghastly skin, you looked ethereal. like an angel sent from heaven to save him from his own solitary hell. as much as he wants to savor this moment of you finally giving into his touch, sylus knows what he must do. you're unwell and unrested. you need to be in bed immediately.

"you should be in bed, sweetie." sylus murmurs as he pulls away from your forehead. you try not to sulk at the loss of the soothing chill of his skin. though, not without feeling conflicted because why you would even sulk about him? for god's sake, he was a criminal. he's taken countless lives. not to mention, he choked you upon meeting you, called you a disappointment, and tried to alter you after three straight days of relentless attempts at a forced resonation… just thinking about him drives you nuts and being driven nuts is the last thing you want right now.

"i'm fine, sylus." it was your turn to pull away, trying to put as much distance between you two as his firm grip around your waist would allow. "besides, nothing a little old tea can't fix."

with that, you turn to face the dishwasher and reach for the utensils for the umpteenth time of the night. sylus sighs and pinches his nose bridge with his free hand. as much as he admired your stubbornness, he could not help but resent it at times like these. times when you were in desperate need of a break. before you can grab the utensils, you feel yourself get lifted off the ground effortlessly.

sylus' arm on your waist had moved to your shoulder, and his other arm was hooked under your thighs. he had you in bridal style in less than a second. your eyes widen, realizing the sudden change in positions. "what are you doing?!" you cough painfully. "put me down!"

you do your best to escape sylus' new grip on you by kicking your legs and squirming uncontrollably, but it was hopeless. you were weakened due to your sickness, and sylus was determined to make sure you looked only at him instead of the goddamn dishwasher. one more look at it, and he swears he's gonna break it with his evol.

quickly and confidently, sylus exits the kitchen with you in his arms and arrives at what he guesses is your shared bedroom with your roommate. he tries not to get distracted by the fact that this is his first time in your room. god, the entire space smelled so much like you, he wanted to become one with it and watch you forever and ever. dismissing his intrusive thoughts, sylus gently places you down on your bed and starts to cover you in your blanket.

"wait, sylus," you start, trying to get up. "i have to empty the dishwasher. i have homework, too." sylus tuts as he shakes his head, his messy silver locks following suit. although he doesn't respond, sylus continues to spread out your blanket. you furrow your eyebrows at his strange behavior. "sylus…" you whine. you actually whined. something you never thought you would do, especially in front of sylus. you could feel his intense gaze prick at you like little needles. you avoid his gaze, hoping to hide your flustered state.

adorable. that's what you are. incredibly adorable to the point sylus wants to grab your chin and force you to look at him as he coaxes more and more of your pretty whines out of you.

trying to fight his indecent thoughts, sylus locks eyes with you, a firm yet pleading look on his face. "you need to rest, sweetie," he leans in to adjust your pillow. "you won't get anything done in this state." you try to protest again, but sylus beats you to it. "rest. i'll take care of everything."

well, fuck. how can you say no when sylus, in all of his gorgeous glory, is centimeters from your face, telling you that he will take care of everything and asking you to do the one thing you've been longing to do for a very long time? besides, you felt sleepy ever since sylus took you in his arms. just this once. just this once, you'll allow yourself to be vulnerable with him. so that you can rest, of course. totally not because sylus had a way of comforting you so sweetly and breaking your defensive walls so charmingly.

your labored breathing slows as you cautiously nod. "fine," you yawn. "the utensils go in the very left drawer of the island while the pots and pans go in the stove oven, and…" you can feel sleep beckoning for you as you continue to list instructions. sylus can't help the grin that appears on his face as he watches your cute blinks grow in intervals.

"noted, sweetie." he caresses a stray hair strand out of your face. "i'll make sure everything is back where they belong." like you to him. though, he doesn't say that part out loud. maybe another day. when you are no longer wary of him and are willing to acknowledge his very obvious affection for you. deep in his fantasy, sylus almost misses your cute snores. he chuckles, taking this chance to admire you now that you've fallen asleep.

you truly were an angel. the way your eyebrows furrowed here and there in your sleep. the way your plump lips parted at times. the way your button nose twitched sporadically. oh, sylus loved it all. he could watch you sleep forever. but he had a better task at hand: to take care of you. he assured you that he would take care of everything. and sylus is a man of his words. carefully to not wake you, sylus cups your face with his right hand. closing his own eyes, he places a delicate kiss on your forehead.

"rest well, sweetie. i'll see you soon."

[solelifauna]

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 1)

TW: Mentions/allusions to cannibalism, death, and violence.

Three years had passed since that fateful day and your life had only gotten more miserable. Whatever hopes you had for being a part of a family were thwarted as soon as you stepped foot in the household. Bruce doesn't care about you, Dick was straight up mean, Jason (as the pack protector) was aggressive, Tim found you annoying, and Damien simply loathed your existence and would join Dick with his cruelty.

Both Stephanie and Barbara were civil with you, but neither really cared about what you did. Cassandra was nice, sometimes signing to you and giving you scented clothing, but she still didn't really go out of her way to engage with you. The only person who you felt truly cared about you was Alfred.

The first two years you tried your hardest to fit in and get the others to like you. You did whatever they wanted, made sure to learn their interests so you could talk to them, never complained, and made sure to respect the pack's boundaries.

You hoped that eventually, you’d all move past this hurdle and soon you would get along and be allowed in the pack den and other pack activities. Unfortunately, you realized that you would never be considered part of the family or the pack. Which as heartbreaking as it was, was the least of your worries.

You see, there was an ancient custom in werewolf culture concerning new pack members and pack initiation. When a new werewolf is introduced to a pack and their territory, the new werewolf has a certain amount of time to be accepted into the pack; if they’re not, well, they're killed and eaten. 

Yeah… quite terrifying and barbaric if you think about it, but mostly only the old lineages still continue this practice. Which is why you’re absolutely fucked. See, typically when children come to a pack they get accepted immediately, pups were (usually) considered precious.

In your case, being a half-blood severely reduced your chances and well, you guessed the Wayne family just didn't like you. Which sucks because you only have until your 18th birthday to get them to accept you, and considering your 16th birthday was coming up, your time was coming to a close. 

Or, you could always just run away. Hey! It was an option, one that you weren't sure the Bats would even let happen. Still it was worth a try. Which leads to your current situation in Bruce's office; you were trying to cut your losses a little early.

~~~~~~

“Look, I just feel as though this is the best course of action for your pack’s and my own safety.” Came your exasperated and desperate voice.

“Safety?” Bruce questions, causally flipping through some Wayne Industries documents, as if he doesn't know exactly what you're talking about.

“Considering Damian’s tried to kill me five times, two of his attempts almost being successful, and Jason's pit aggression that has him ready to rip my throat out, you can see why someone would feel unsafe.” You state, voice raising slightly in pitch.

He hummed noncommittally, his eyes still focusing on whatever paperwork he was going over.

“I'll think about it.” He replies, still disinterested.

“There’s nothing to think about! I should be allowed to leave if I want to, and if anything I'll finally be out of your pack's way.” You say, finally letting your frustration show through.

Why couldn't he just let you leave? Did he seriously want to keep you here just to kill– sorry, eat you in another two years?

“Excuse me?” He finally looks up from his work, his blue eyes meeting yours. He was unimpressed, you could tell that much at least, coupled with a dark look of simmering anger.

Okay, so maybe you should tone it down a notch.

“Come on, I'm not an idiot. I know me being here is simply a public formality, good fluff bits for the press y'know. But I'm not part of your family, and I'm certainly not part of your pack. You and the others have made that very clear. So please, allow me to do us both a favor and get out of your way.” You add.

“Where would you go?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

“Where would you go?” Bruce repeats again.

“That–that is honestly none of your concern.”

“None of my concern? Aren't I entitled to know where my kid is?”

“No, you’re not. Sure you're biologically considered my father, but we all know I'm not really considered your kid.”

“Is that what you think?” He questions.

“Am I supposed to think any differently?”

“You carry the Wayne surname do you not?”

“I do.”

“Then you belong to the Waynes. To me. Which means that I decide what happens to you.”

There was the familiar darkness that you saw pooling in Bruce’s eyes, the type that left the Joker a tortured mess, the type that disemboweled Ra’s Al Ghul, the type of darkness that reminded you that Batman doesn’t kill. Oh no, he maims and tortures instead.

You unconsciously take a careful step back. 

Bruce’s stare felt like ice, and his words hung in the air, thick and heavy with an authority that was absolute. You wanted to argue, to say something, but every instinct in your body screamed for caution. There was a darkness in his gaze that you had seen glimpses of before, but never directed at you, and now it was there, unblinking, cutting through any hope you’d harbored for mercy or understanding.

Your heart hammered, yet you forced yourself to stand straighter, swallowing down the instinctive fear. 

“With all due respect,” you began, your voice smaller than you intended but steady, “staying here for another two years just for you all to—to follow through with that—custom, doesn’t seem fair.”

Bruce’s expression didn’t soften, but his posture shifted slightly, his gaze piercing through you like he could see every thought you tried to hide. 

“Belonging is earned. It isn’t granted because of blood,” he stated coldly. “If you truly wish to belong somewhere, you work for it.”

“I’ve tried,” you said, voice thick with frustration. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve followed your rules, I tried with everyone, and stayed out of everyone’s way. But nothing I do is good enough.”

“You assume that acceptance is given on your terms,” he replied, voice as controlled as ever. “Pack structure doesn’t bend to anyone’s whims. Least of all a half-blood who hasn’t proven their loyalty.”

The words stung, tearing open a wound that you thought had scarred over. You clenched your fists, feeling the sharp ache of your own nails digging into your palms. “And what exactly does proving myself look like here? Surviving Damian’s attacks? Letting Jason rip me apart every chance he gets?”

“Watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low, cutting through any retort you’d planned.

You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to take another step back from his desk. Challenging him wouldn’t help. He’d already decided where you stood, and nothing you said would change that. Maybe it was better to save your energy, conserve your strength for the day you’d finally slip away.

“Understood,” you said, swallowing the bitterness in your throat. “If that’s how it is, then I’ll stay out of everyone’s way.”

 But you’d still leave when the time comes.

Bruce’s gaze hardened, like he knew what you were thinking. “Your place is here until I decide otherwise,” he said, a finality in his tone that told you any further argument would only worsen things.

He dismissed you with a look, returning to his papers as if the conversation were over, as if you were no longer there. Every step you took out of the office felt heavier, like the manor itself was holding you down, binding you to this place that was never truly a home.

As you closed the door behind you, the cold emptiness of the hallway wrapped around you, and you knew then—you were on your own. If you were to survive this, it would be on your own terms.

It's like clockwork when Alfred calls you down for dinner. The same time, the same routine.

You show  up to dinner, hands still shaking and mind still reeling from your disturbingly cryptic conversation with Bruce. But, never mind that you’d just eat quietly and leave like you always do. You moved to your normal seat only to find that all the chairs near the end of the table had disappeared. What the actual fuck. Was this some type of powerplay? Something to imply that you didn’t even have a seat at their table anymore? 

You mean, you wouldn't mind eating in the safety and comfort of your own room. With an exasperated sigh, which had a couple of heads turn their attention to you, you grabbed an empty plate and started loading it up with food. You were about to head back to your room when you heard an outraged growl from behind you.

The kind of growl that had you tensing, ready to submit and roll onto your back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jason growled out from behind you.

You freeze.

“To my room?” You responded meekly, curling in on yourself as much as you could.

“And pray tell, why do you think that’d be acceptable?”

“Uh–um, ‘cause my seats’ gone?”

Jason only smirked, the feral kind that almost always promised pain to his enemies.

“Oh, but your chair isn't gone, it's right here.” Jason says pointing to a chair right near the head of the table.

You blanked. That's not right. Only pack was allowed that close to the head of the table, where Bruce sat, where the pack leader sat.

“B-But, I can’t–”

“Did that sound like a suggestion?”

You shook your head no, swallowing down a whimper that almost escaped your lungs.

“Then sit your ass down,” Jason growled.

He didn't have to tell you twice.

Immediately you shakily sat down in your new seat, on the left side of Bruce’s seat at the head of the table with Jason sitting at your left shoulder and Dick across from you. Not good, not good at all. You could feel the acidic, green gaze of Jason burning into the side of your face whilst Dick languidly sipped his wine, a sickeningly sweet smile (with way too many teeth to be considered anything but malicious), plastered on his face as he stared at the new seating chart. You let out a shaky breath, trying to get your heart rate back to normal; you were so gonna die tonight.

Thankfully, Bruce arrived and sat himself in his seat at the head of the table; right next to you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on getting air in your lungs and slowing your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Bruce shot a knowing stare at the rest of the table. As much as you tried to conceal it, they could all hear your rapidly fluttering heartbeat and your poorly hidden breathing. Tim and Jason both watched you amused; you looked so darn pathetic, sitting there trembling like a leaf. 

You glanced down at your plate, picking at the food without really tasting it, hoping that staying silent would help you melt into the background.

Bruce, however, remained still and silent, his presence looming over you, radiating the authority that seemed to keep everyone else in check. But even that felt like a facade; the way his gaze lingered on you for a split second too long told you he was watching closely, assessing.

You forced yourself to take a bite, trying to steady your hands enough to appear somewhat composed. But the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to echo in your ears, loud and unrelenting, as if amplifying the anxiety that twisted in your gut. They could hear it too; you knew that much from the way Jason’s smirk deepened, from the way Tim’s lips twitched with barely-contained laughter.

As the dinner dragged on, every clink of a fork, every quiet murmur, felt like it was directed at you. The food turned to ash in your mouth, each bite only reminding you of the eyes trained on you, dissecting you with every chew and every breath.

The rest of the dinner passed in strained silence, every second an endurance test as you forced yourself to stay seated, to keep your head down. When Bruce finally pushed his chair back and dismissed everyone, the wave of relief was almost enough to make you lightheaded. Quick as a whip, you practically ran up the stairs towards the safety and solace of your room.

When you make it, the locks on your door are immediately fastened (not that it would do much if anyone wanted to actually force their way in). You exhale in relief as you try to collect your thoughts. Fuck, everything was going to shit; the worst part being you had school tomorrow (which thankfully you did not go to Gotham Prep; you'd kill yourself if you did). You groaned at the thought, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes to relieve the ache shooting through them.

Looks like another night of shitty sleep.

Taglist!!: @lostsomewhereinthegarden, @the-rouge-robin, @confused-they

[fakebwitch]

we share the same sins

— pairing: father charlie mayhew x fem!reader

— summary: as usual you go to church to say your prayer, father charlie says something that catches you by surprise, shortly thereafter you find yourself discussing it in his office and things escalate quickly.

— warnings: very smutty

you sat on one of the long, dark wooden benches, your hands held a gold and quartz rosary that your parents had given you on your previous birthday, your index finger and thumb turning one of the many balls that made up the necklace, your eyes closed as your mind repeated the usual prayer.

it was a wednesday, 5 p.m. you had finished all your studies concerning school and had walked toward the church of your small town to perform one of your weekly prayers.

you smelled a familiar scent flooding your nostrils, but you kept your eyes closed, determined to continue your prayer. the scent grew stronger and stronger as you felt a body sit down next to you. no longer able to maintain your concentration, you opened your eyes, turning to the left, meeting father charlie's gaze.

before you could utter a word he anticipated you, "shh... keep your eyes closed, go on" he guided you, you hesitated for a second, scanning his beautiful features, you decided to listen to him by closing your eyes, moving your head to the altar, clutching your rosary tightly as you resumed your prayer.

you tried, but your mind had abandoned you by then, all you could think about was whether he was looking at you at that moment, watching your hair, the way you were dressed, the way your well-manicured fingers played with the rosary or maybe scrutinizing your profile, your nose, your lips... and then there was his strong scent, you let it go as you opened your eyes. you moved your head toward him and saw that he was looking straight ahead, you were a little disappointed.

fortunately he was able to anticipate your movements and shifted his gaze from your face, to the altar in front of him in time, so that you wouldn't catch him staring at you.

"i'm done" you lied crossing his gaze, biting your lower lip, "are you really?" he said, "yes" you lied again. charlie knew inside that you weren't telling the truth, you were far from done.

you knew he knew, in fact you were ready to get a rebuke about not lying in the house of God, but he didn't say anything about it.

"good," he nodded, shifting his gaze elsewhere, unable to look you in the eyes for too long.

"what are you doing?" you asked him, watching his concentrated face, you realized how stupid your question sounded at that moment and before he could answer ironically you added "in your mind."

he looked at you for a few seconds, "brooding over my sins," he said with a sigh, he indeed was doing it.

"in that case who do you confess to? should i be your priest?" you said the last sentence with a smile, charlie couldn't help but laugh as he shook his head, "i don't know if you should listen to my sins" he said becoming serious again, wetting his lips.

"why not? i mean you've heard all my sins... i think we share the same ones" you said shrugging your shoulders, not thinking of a possible meaning behind those words, father charlie raised an eyebrow scrutinizing your profile as your fingers tightened around your rosary beads.

"yeah? like watching porn videos?" he said.

your head turned sharply toward him, widening your eyes at having so openly said such an impure word in the house of God, you looked around worried that some poor Christian might hear the words that just came out from the mouth of the priest who every sunday morning did mass in front of all the citizens, but luckily the church was almost completely empty except for a few ladies but they were sitting something like 7 or 8 pews away from the two of you.

"charlie..." you said in a whisper looking at him bewildered, he looked down, a small smile on his face, "what, I mean you said that we share the same sins and that's what you confess to me" he said simply shrugging his shoulders as he crossed his arms. "don't say it out loud” you scolded him as you asked God for forgiveness internally.

"don't worry, I could have said worse things you confessed to me" he said by now chuckling, enjoying teasing you, you glowered at him as you pushed his shoulder, "will you stop it" you said trying to keep your tone low.

"the truth is you're a nasty gir-" before he could continue this dirty little game you grabbed your bag getting up from your seat, "you're really absurd" you said as you walked down the long aisle.

"wait, I was just kidding" he said as he chased after you, not caring what the few people in the church might think. he reached out and grabbed your wrist, leading you to a hidden corner.

"you should not say out loud what I confess to you, it should stay between you and me" you scolded him, in fact it was the truth, a priest should not have said what was confessed to him, it was confessional secrecy.

"well you are right, but I can assure you that no one heard what i said" he said trying to reassure you. by now he knew you well enough to know that there was something wrong with you and when he saw that you did not respond he added "is something bothering you?".

he was surprised by your reaction, you used to always joke together, about anything. it had been weeks since you had grown close, if you can call it that; on days when you went to church to say your usual prayer, he was there, and when you finished you would stop to talk to him, or even after sunday mass, after dismissing everyone, he was more than happy to spend time with you. he was always available, answering any of your doubts or questions.

you were so familiar with each other that he didn't even want you to call him father charlie anymore, just charlie was fine.

"yes... maybe I am," you admitted biting your lower lip, "would you mind telling me what it is about?" he asked as his gaze softened, a slight pout on your face.

as you were about to respond he interrupted you, "we can go to my office if you prefer, so we can have more privacy" he proposed, you looked at him taking a few seconds to decide. it wouldn't be your first time in his office, but the idea of being alone with him made you so self-conscious.

"yes that's fine" you nodded, he gave you a small smile and then started walking, you walked alongside him as you silently made your way to his office. he opened the door to the room, put a hand on your back as he guided you inside, closing the door behind him. you tried to ignore his gesture as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"can I offer you tea... or perhaps you would prefer coffee?" he offered, "coffee would be fine, thank you" you replied with a smile, "no problem" he replied returning your smile, turning to a cabinet, taking the carafe with coffee and pouring a little into a cup.

"thank you" you whispered again taking the cup from his hands, your fingers brushed against his in the process.

"so... do you want to talk about it?" he urged as he sat on the corner of the desk, a few feet away from you, you sent down a long sip of coffee and then set the cup down on the desk. "it's just that this is the last year of school, and I have so many important tests coming up, I haven't started studying yet, and I'm so scared of failing..." you blurted out as you played with the flap of your skirt, charlie looked at you nodding at your every word, he really did listening to you when you spoke.

"it's okay, there's no need to stress so much, trust me... I've been there too, and I survived" he said with a slight smile making you laugh, "how did you do?" you asked as you met his gaze, "not exactly well, but the important thing is that it's over" he replied shrugging as you both laughed.

"but I know it's different with you, I know you're smart and you have all the skills to get the most out of it, you'll be fine, don't stress that pretty head of yours too much" he reassured you giving you a wink, you smiled lowering your gaze. his words were serious, he really meant what he was telling you, it wasn't just said to please you.

"I hope you're right..."

"you know I am" he said as you took the cup back into your hands to take another sip.

"about before- I wanted to apologize for what I said, I shouldn't have done that, it was unkind of me-"

"it's okay really, don't worry about it” you said interrupting him, "I just overreacted" you continued moving a strand of hair falling across your face.

"no your reaction was more than correct, what you confess to me should remain secret, and I should not have allowed myself to say it out loud" he insisted. "i promise, it's okay... just hearing it out loud was a little... you know, awkward" you confessed feeling your cheeks heat up, feeling weak in front of his gaze so intense. he looked at you for a few seconds as you cursed yourself entirely for opening that speech.

"awkward you say?" he urged you raising an eyebrow, having full interest in the conversation you were engaging in. you took a long breath thinking about the right things to say, in the end he was a priest anyway.

"yes, talking about that kind of thing so openly... it seemed unfair" you admitted crossing his gaze, his mouth slightly open as he listened to your words, you seemed so unsure about it.

"why? it's normal, it's part of being human to take certain actions" he said wetting his lips, waiting for your next answer.

"yes it's true..." you nodded agreeing with him.

you looked at him, but really looked at him. he wasn't wearing the usual tunic he wore when he was performing mass, but a black shirt, as well as pants and shoes, and a matching belt. your eyes lingered on his chest, the shirt was quite tight and you could imagine his trained physique underneath the fabric, his arms looked so muscular and you could just imagine how worked out his abs could be.

you weren't stupid, you had heard the rumors going around, about him being a personal trainer before he took up the seminar. you couldn't help but think about what his life was like before he devoted himself to god, whether he had been with so many women, whether he was good at it.

"have you ever done it?" you asked him voicing your thoughts, capturing his attention even more than you had before, "done what?" he incited you. he knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the famous word leave your lips.

you looked at him feeling like you wanted to sink to the floor below, it made you so self-conscious.

"sex" you finally said it.

he held back a smirk as he looked at your embarrassed face.

"well yes, I did it before I went down the path," he admitted as you nodded silently, you didn't know exactly what to expect, but the idea of him performing such an act made you more and more excited. "what was it like?" you asked boldly meeting his gaze, you had never had any kind of relationship that led back to sex, other than watching porn videos, as you had confessed to him, and touching yourself a few times.

even though you had never done anything with a man, you knew how sex and all the other kinds of gratification you could receive and give worked. your mind wandered, imagining him gratifying the women he slept with, his head between their thighs as they screamed his name.

you certainly should not have thought such things about a priest.

"the best feeling ever" he replied to you, and you could tell by his tone of voice and expression that he was probably going over such events in his head, that he wasn't lying. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy for the women who had been lucky enough to sleep with him.

he looked at you, your expression more thoughtful than ever. "how come you're so interested in this?" he asked you curiously as he lifted his shirt sleeve, up to his elbow, in full view the veins on his forearm as his fingers clung to the desk. you looked unashamedly at the scene, his veins so thick you just wanted to run your fingers over them. of course charlie noticed.

"I've never done anything like that" you replied looking into his eyes, oh trust me he knew. he knew you were an innocent little girl, still untouched, and that drove him crazy.

"mhm" he nodded inciting you to continue, he could tell by your expression that there was something else you wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately" you said, your eyes shifting to his bulge for a split second, you hoped it went unnoticed by him, but it didn't.

you were almost 19 and hadn't had any kind of relationship yet, was it so wrong to fantasize sexually every night?

"don't feel wrong about that, I get it" he said, his voice almost in a whisper. you were already aroused and his attractive voice wasn't helping.

"I just want to know how it feels."

and that was the last straw, all he needed to take the decisive step. your pretty eyes looked down at him, looking so innocent, his impure thoughts took over his mind as he felt his cock twitch.

he swallowed as he moved closer to where you were sitting, he couldn't miss this chance, it was all he had wanted from the moment his eyes had landed on you.

"I could help you" he offered as he looked down at you, nothing but lust in his dark eyes. you didn't think for a second about the fact that he was a priest, that he wasn't allowed to give in to temptation, it was a sin, just as it was a sin for you too, to lose your virginity before marriage to the person perhaps least suited.

you nodded, unable to utter a word under his gaze, "use your words” he intimated, "I want you to” you replied, deglutinating, no longer able to hide the discomfort in your lower abdomen, all you needed was him.

his large hand rested on your soft cheek, his thumb rubbed the soft skin and then went down to your lips, settling on your lower lip, bringing it down.

he lowered himself just a little so that your faces were inches from each other, you knew what was coming, you closed your eyes as your heartbeat quickened unnaturally. you'd never kissed anyone, except for a little kiss you'd shared a long time ago with a friend of yours, but nothing that could remotely lead back to a real kiss.

his lips collided gently with yours, and he swore that he had never committed a finer sin. he broke away after a few seconds, looked at you as you opened your eyes, your pupils dilated, he could mirror himself in them.

"get up."

he stepped back a little so that you had the space to stand up, you did as he ordered. he was much taller than you, your head met his chest as you looked up at him. "haven't you ever kissed before?" he asked you, his voice barely audible, your eyes were fixed in his as his hand rested on the side of your neck, pushing you toward the desk.

"no" you shook your head, keeping the same tone of voice as his, you worried thinking that through a simple kiss he had caught your inexperience and was already tired of you, "don't worry, it's okay" his voice reassuring as your ass was pressed against the desk, "just follow what I do, it's nothing your pretty head can't learn" you nodded letting his voice guide you and before you could think of anything else his lips returned to yours, this time however his lips moved slowly parting, you copied his own movements, finding your rhythm.

"just like that, you see" he whispered on your lips with a small smile pulling away so that you could catch your breath, his free hand moved to your hips bringing you closer to him. his lips found yours again, resuming the same rhythm as before, this time feeling his tongue slip easily between your lips.

you copied his movements, letting your tongue make its way between his mouth. you were by no means an expert kisser, but for what it was worth you could tell he was an excellent kisser.

he broke away to catch his breath but your hand grabbed him by the collar, making his lips smack against yours, he laughed in the kiss at your desperation, "calm down pretty girl, i'm right here" he said as the hand he had on your hip moved to your thigh pushing it onto the table so that you were sitting on it now.

he made space between your legs as your hands played with his hair, you heard little sounds escaping his lips and they were the most beautiful things you had ever heard.

as his hand was steady on your hip, yours moved to his arm, feeling his bicep. you don't know how long you dreamed of doing this.

his lips, his hands on you, his grunts, it was all so new to you that it got you overwhelmed, you couldn't wait any longer, you needed him now, your pussy was aching for him.

"i need you" you said pulling away from the kiss, taking one of his hands and bringing it to your center, there was no more room for shyness. charlie swore he could cum at that exact moment at the sight, your desperate face, your hair disheveled as well as your lips flushed, and his hand on your panties, "fuck me..." he whispered feeling through the thin fabric how wet you were.

"is that what you want? me to touch you?" he asked, his other hand grabbed your neck, you nodded frantically, your pussy clenching around nothing, "I want you to touch me" you said as his hand cupped your pussy, you let out a soft moan.

"tell me exactly what you want" at this point he was merely pushing you to the edge, he knew you had never done anything like this so it took little. he wanted it as much as you did, but he couldn't fight the urge to hear your sweet voice begging for him to do something.

"I want... I want your fingers inside me" you didn't even know where you got the courage to say such words, "not so innocent huh?" he taunted with a grin, his hand lifted your skirt as his fingers slowly slipped through the elastic of your panties.

"faster" you begged as he slid the panties down your ankles, ignoring your prayers as he looked them once removed, light pink with a white bow, "these are pretty, i might keep them" he said almost as if he was talking to himself as he put the panties in his pocket.

you felt yourself wet even more at what you had just witnessed.

he rested his lips on yours as his long fingers met your swollen clit, you couldn't help but let out a moan, your fingers were nothing in comparison. your head fell back as his mouth moved to your neck, licking and sucking your skin. "oh charlie" you moaned as his fingers continued to play with your clit, you had never felt a better sensation.

"i'm going to put a finger in" he warned you as his thumb took the place of his index and middle fingers on your clit. he played with your entrance a little and then inserted a finger inside, you let out a moan at the stretching, how were you going to take his cock.

"so wet baby" he whispered in your ear as his finger began to find its rhythm inside you. he noticed that you were feeling nothing but pleasure at that moment, and he slid a second finger in, "fuuuck" you moaned as you felt him stretch you, his big fingers filling you so well.

you cried out as his thumb found your clit again, pressing it and tracing circular motions on it. his lips on you, the way his fingers moved quickly inside you, it all felt too much.

"c-charlie… i think I'm-"

"I know baby I know, give in to it" he cradled you by rejoining your lips, the weight you felt in your stomach more and more persistent, you clung to his biceps, your nails dug into his skin as you felt dizzy.

with almost a pornographic moan you cummed on his fingers, which slowly helped you ride out your orgasm. you felt powerless after cumming hard, your grip on his bicep diminished as you rested your head on his shoulder.

you closed your eyes feeling tired, you could sleep just like that. you let out a sigh as he pulled his fingers out, feeling empty.

you pulled away from his chest, your mind still clouded as you saw him bring his fingers covered in your cum to his mouth, he sucked his fingers as he rolled his eyes, savoring your taste, "so fucking good pretty girl" he murmured removing his fingers from his mouth with a "pop".

he grabbed you by the chin kissing you, his tongue slipped into your mouth so you could taste yourself.

with a quick movement he put his hand on your hip and turned you over, your back now against his chest. as one hand clung to your hips, his other hand pushed down your back, you released a little cry when your chest came in contact with the hard wooden surface.

with a quick movement he lifted your skirt, his hand landed with a violent slap on your ass, making you moan. "charlie I don't know if-" you made to speak but he quickly interrupted you, "shh, shh baby... you're okay, you can take it" he murmured as he continued to grope your ass, voice low and hoarse, his hard cock was screaming to be released, he couldn’t wait any longer, he had to be inside you.

you remained still as you felt him unbuckle his belt, he lowered his pants just enough along with his underwear, his hard cock came out. with the palm of his hand, he cupped your pussy, gathering your wetness, a whimper left your lips at the contact, still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

he began rubbing the tip of his cock in front of you, your pussy in perfect view in front of him as you were bent over his office desk, waiting for him to fuck you… how was he going to explain to God the reason for his sin?

"please... need you" you begged, your pussy clenching around nothing as you heard the wet sounds of his hand jerking on you, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock split you open.

"I'm here baby, I got you," he shushed you.

shortly after you felt his tip rubbing between your folds, you whimpered at the sensation as you heard him moan behind you, you thought it was a torture not to be able to see his beautiful face in pleasure at this moment.

"could cum just by this..." he said in pure bliss, his head fell back as the tip of his cock indulged on your entrance, pushing just enough to make your walls squeeze him like he had never felt before.

"fuck so tight, I thought I had prepared you well... squeezing me so well" he praised you as his hand tightened on your hips, you let out a huge moan as you felt your pussy welcome his cock, his fingers were nothing in comparison.

"it hurts" you moaned almost on the verge of tears as he pushed himself just a little deeper. your little hole was so hot, squeezing him so tightly, he was holding back with all his might not to push himself hard into you and fuck you out of your head.

"I know baby, it will feel better in a little” he reassured you, his hand found your clit, rubbing it as he calmly slid his cock a little deeper inside you.

he wasn't even halfway in and you felt so full already, his fingers on your clit and his cock filling you so well made you moan repeatedly. as he gave you time to adjust to the new intrusion, you began to adjust to his cock inside you, wanting nothing more than for him to move.

"move."

that was all he needed to hear. with one swift move he thrust quickly into you, "fuuuuck" he moaned as you felt your walls suck him in, your hands clinging hard to the desk beneath you, your knuckles turning almost white as you gritted your teeth, feeling your skin burn.

"too much" you moaned, "it’s ok, I'm here" he told you trying somehow to reassure you, but really all he could think about was how good he felt inside you. respecting your limits he slowly pushed himself out then back inside you, as he did this several times you felt the pleasure take over from the pain.

"faster,” you urged him, and he was more than happy to oblige.

his thrusts increased dramatically as his hand left a big slap on your ass. all you could think about was his cock inside you, touching you in all the right places.

"ohh fuck charlie... feels so good" you said as the sound of your body slamming into each other flooded your ears. "just like that, you see? you were made for this cock" he said as he watched your ass bounce each time it came in contact with his body, a moan left his lips at the sight.

you released a loud moan as you felt his tip touch your cervix, in a quick gesture he grabbed both of your wrists holding them tightly with one hand as he pushed you toward him, "keep your fucking mouth shut, or do you want everyone to know that you are being fucked dumb by your priest."

you couldn't help but get even more aroused at hearing his dirty words, you clenched around him and he noticed. "you like how I talk to you like that , don't you? dirty just like I thought" he said to you.

"you are my dirty girl, aren't you?" he asked, balls deep inside you, "y-yes i am your dirty girl" you nodded quickly, too fucked up to even understand what you were saying.

leaving your wrists alone he grabbed you by the hair, so that your back was against his sweaty chest. his hand slid down finding your overstimulated clit. another moan escaped your lips and charlie didn't like it.

he grabbed you by the neck, "the fuck did I say to you? keep your mouth shut" he scolded you, you didn't understand how he wanted you to be silent when he was abusing your hole, making you feel so good. you wanted to answer him but you were too gone to be able to formulate a sentence, in response you couldn't help but let out another moan.

"you want the hard stuff" he murmured slipping two fingers into your mouth, you were quick to wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking on them.

charlie couldn't help but grunt as you squeezed him tighter and tighter, his other hand grabbed your tits as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm.

"mhm" you murmured around his lips, your hand touched his chest, "what is it baby? you close?" he asked, you nodded euphorically as you rolled your eyes, resting your head on his shoulder.

"cum baby, cum all over my cock" he incited you and within seconds you were cumming hard on his cock, you felt yourself squirming as you slowly returned to normal, his cock thrusting into you hard, you felt your legs shaking.

"good girl... f-fuck i'm gonna baby, you want it? gonna fucking cum inside you" he managed to say between moans, "yes I want it all inside me" you urged him as he took his fingers out of your mouth.

a few thrusts later you felt his hot seed spreading inside you, you couldn't help but whimper at the sensation. low moans kept coming out of his mouth as with slow thrusts he finished inside you, making sure not a single drop was wasted.

he pulled out of you slowly as you suddenly felt empty, let yourself fall back into the chair where you had just sat as you entered his office exhausted.

"I've been waiting to do this ever since I saw you."

[yuvany]

# HYPNOTIC ''

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 getting a whiff off your perfume.

OT7 enhypen x female reader ֶָ֢ WC: ~ 100 / character GENRE / WARNING(S) :: fluff + slightly suggestive + skinship + est relationship + possibly a bit ooc + not proofread!

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

immediately spots the new scent on you. You and him were cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, and he inched himself closer to you slowly. "Baby, did you spray a new perfume today?" He asks, in which you reply, "Yeah, do you like it?" Heeseung didn't answer right away, instead, his nose found your neck and breathed in your scent. The tip of his nose brushed against your nape a couple of times, and his warm breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck ever so slightly. "So?" You whispered with a hint of uncertainty. "It's lovely." He replies at last, his face now buried in your shoulder.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

is a perfume enthusiast for sure. Asks what perfume it is, and throws in his own guess. Most of the times, he guesses correct, but only if the perfume you're wearing is trending. You also ask him what he thinks often. "Jjongie, smell this, please." You request with puppy eyes, and why would he reject you? You lift your wrist up to his level and he sniffs it a couple of times before nodding his head. "Might just be my favourite, princess." He says with a smirk.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

"You smell nice." He just blurts it out, and it takes you a while to fully comprehend what he meant. "Don't I smell nice on other days as well?" You tease with a smile, obviously knowing that he refers to the change of perfume you're wearing. "Of course you do! This smell is just different than before." His hand holds yours, and he lifts it up to his nose to smell your wrist. Jake sniffs it for a while, a bit longer than expected, which causes you to arch an eyebrow. "I really like this one, babe." He comments at last, and kisses your hand before pulling you into a strong hug.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

lets the smell familiarise in his nose before asking, "Is that the perfume I bought for you?" You nod, and smell your wrist for confirmation. "I really like the smell." You say, looking up at him. "I do too, it reminded me of you, you know?" Sunghoon says, kissing your forehead. You lean into his touch, and engulf him in a long hug where he swings you from from side to side. The two of you enjoy this moment of intimacy and closeness. The scent adding a sweet and comfortable aroma to the moment. "Maybe I should wear this more often" you laugh, patting his head that found itself by your nape.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

hums in delight when you walk past him, and the scent lingers in the air for a while. You turn around with a questioning look painting your features. "I just mean that you smell wonderful!" He said panickingly in case you got the wrong idea of his reaction. "Really? I can't really smell myself right now." You chuckled, and walked up to him, forgetting what you actually wanted to do prior. "Well, there's no need to worry. Even if you smelled bad, I wouldn't worry." Sunoo said, taking your hand in his. "What, why?" You asked, shocked. "Because I wouldn't have to worry about other people trying to pursue you."

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍๋

has a sensitive nose, but when he breaths in the faint smell of your new perfume, he perks an eyebrow. "Is that you who smells so nice?" He asks, stepping closer to you. "Yeah, why, is it too strong, babe?" You ask worryingly. "No, no, it's just right." Jungwon wraps his arms around your waist, and pulls you closer to him. "I was scared for a second, thought it was too strong for you, and, so I switched to oil perfumes." You explain followed with a soft giggle. He cracks a sweet smile for you, and presses a soft kiss to your cheek sweetly. "It smells sweet, just like you."

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

you had asked for his opinion on it, and risen your wrist to make it easier for him to smell it. Personally, you liked it a lot, so you really hoped he did too. Halfway up, he softly took your hand, and held you by the wrist, letting the perfume waft his way. Riki's eyes shifted from yours to the side of your head, and moved closer to smell it better. "Sorry baby, this doesn't really fit you." He says, and you are shook. "Huh?" You mumble, and he chuckles. "You're so cute. I was just kidding. It smells amazing, babe." He said with a joking tone, and nudged your with his hip.

Reminder to not spam like since it can shadow ban me😖

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie woke up with a pounding headache and an intense sense of dread. He groaned as he sat up, shutting his eyes to block out the searing light from the window.

He took a deep breath before opening them again, letting out a sigh of relief when he realized he was in his own room, safe in their apartment. But that wasn't stopping his pounding headache.

God, what the fuck happened last night? He remembered going to Gareth’s party, getting cross-faded. Then, just pure white-boy wasted as the night went on and someone brought out tequila shots. He remembered whining about missing Steve to some guy-

Oh god. The guy. It came screaming back to him, blurry and unfocused but there.

I can be your boyfriend for the night.

How the fuck had the line worked on him? Eddie didn't know, but he knew that it had. He remembered kissing him, whimpering into his mouth while moaning Steve’s name. How good it felt.

What the fuck had he done?

Pure panic was starting to set in. He cheated on Steve. He actually cheated on Steve. And for what? Because he hadn't seen him for a few weeks? It only took one vacation with Robin for him to destroy the trust they built? Was he that pathetic? That selfish? That idiotic?

He didn't even remember how far they'd gone. He didn't even know how he got home. Or if the guy came with him. The idea of him fucking someone else in their bed made him feel physically ill. Ill enough to have Eddie jumping out of bed, frantic as he looked around for any clues. But there was nothing. Just the evidence of the life he'd built with his boyfriend. The one that he had single handedly ruined.

Maybe he could just not tell him. Keep it secret for the rest of his fucking life. Track down anyone who did know and blackmail them to be quiet. That seemed more sane then coming clean. Sane enough to have Eddie stumbling out of his room in a hurry.

But before he could call Gareth to insanely demand the names of anyone who could have seen him, he smelled it. The scent of coffee brewing, plus the sound of a happy hum.

Steve was home. A whole day early.

Holy shit, Eddie was going to be sick. He was actually going to puke. The feeling bad enough to make his legs weak, so bad he crashed right into the wall.

Loud enough to have Steve calling after him, "Babe, is that you?"

Eddie opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

Not when Steve was rounding the corner, smiling at him like that. All soft and loving, "There you are. Rough night?"

Was that the last time he would look at him like that?

"Eddie?" Steve asked, frowning at his lack of answer, "Are you okay?"

Eddie wanted to die. He actually wanted to die. Why had he done this? But he couldn't lie to him. Not with the sweet, trusting way Steve was looking at him. He just couldn't.

"I need to tell you something," Eddie finally managed to choke out, his heart beating so fast he was scared Steve could hear it. Maybe he'd have a heart attack it he was lucky. Avoid this whole shit show through almost dying.

But he wasn't that lucky.

Steve cocked his head at him, "What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Eddie said, letting his first thought come out, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"What are you talking about?"

"I kissed someone," Eddie blurted out, his hands shaking as he started to word vomit, "Last night. A-At the party I told you about."

Steve just stared at him.

"I-I was drunk!" Eddie went on, his voice coming out wet, "It didnt mean anything, I don't even know why I did it."

Steve still wasn't saying anything. He was just looking at him, his expression unreadable. It just made Eddie feel more desperate.

"Please say something," Eddie begged, "I know this is bad. I do. But I dont even know who he is. I-I won't do it again!"

Steve still had his head cocked as he looked at him, something in his eyes that Eddie didn't understand, "Is that all?"

Fuck no that wasn't all. Not when Steve was looking at him like that. Eddie didn't even think about it as he sunk to his knees, fully fucking ready to beg at Steve’s feet.

"I love you," Eddie tried, the tears he was holding back finally starting to fall, "I fucked up. I know I fucked up but please don't leave me. Please. I can make up for this. I can. Please."

It was hard to see him through the tears in his eyes, hard to comprehend anything through how fucking bad Eddie felt, the sheer amount of self-loathing nearly drowning him completely. His vision was cloudy enough to almost make it look like Steve was... smiling at him?

Steve reached down, grabbing Eddie underneath the armpits to help lift him back onto his feet. Strong in a way that still made Eddie's heart skip a beat whenever he saw it in action. He led a still sniffling Eddie to the couch, grabbing for his hand when they sat down.

"Baby, how do you think you got home last night?" Steve asked.

Eddie frowned, "I-I don't know. I don't remember."

"Do you remember what the guy looked like?"

Eddie swallowed, so nervous he was still kind of afraid he was going to puke. And he highly doubted that puking on Steve would help his case for him to stay, "I don't remember fully."

"What do you remember?"

Eddie sighed, looking down into his lap, "I remember missing you. And then a point where I got drunk enough to say it to anyone who would listen. Then this guy showed up and he said-"

"I can be your boyfriend for the night?"

Eddie snapped his head up, staring at Steve with his mouth open. How the fuck did he know that?

"And then did he do this?" Steve asked as he brought his hand up, cupping Eddie's cheek. Looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world before placing his thumb on Eddie's bottom lip, teasing it with a smile, "Before saying you were beautiful?"

"I-yes? But how-"

"Honey," Steve sighed, a touch exasperated but mostly fond, "I got back last night. Then went to go find you when I remembered about the party."

Oh god, did that mean Steve saw the whole thing? Was this the calm before he kicked Eddie out? Was he about to be dumped-

"I can see your brain working babe, but it's working in the wrong direction."

"Huh?" Eddie asked, completely lost on why Steve was smiling at him instead of cursing his name.

"Eddie, it was me," Steve said calmly, though his face said he was holding back a laugh, "You made out with me. Before I took us home and you failed at trying to give me road head on the way home. Twice."

"I-what?" Eddie asked, shellshocked.

"You cheated on me with me, babe," Steve laughed, his calm face finally breaking, "Then when we got home, you cried about missing me to me. You're adorable when you're wasted. Stupid, but adorable."

"Oh my fucking God," Eddie breathed out, the reality of the situation hitting him. He groaned, hiding his face in his hands while Steve cackled next to him. He had never felt like a bigger fucking moron, Jesus Christ, "I am never drinking tequila again."

"Good idea," Steve chuckled as he pried Eddie's hands away from his face. He brought one to his mouth, kissing his fingers as he grinned, "But I love the honesty, sweetheart. 10/10. And the begging? Kind of hot."

"I was terrified!" Eddie moaned, staring up at the ceiling as a blush climbed up his neck, "You scared the shit out of me."

"You scared yourself!" Steve laughed, grabbing for Eddie's chin to force his head back down to look at him. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead, "My favorite little drama queen."

"You're a bastard," Eddie grumbled, like he wasn't smiling when Steve leaned in to kiss him on the lips, "Evil."

"But wasn't I a good boyfriend for the night?" Steve asked, laughing even harder when Eddie pinched his side. Eddie leaned in to kiss him again, effectively shutting him up as the last of his anxiety drained away.

But one thing was for sure. Tequila would be his worst enemy until the day he died.

Purely inspired by this post by @hawkinsbnbg

[pucksandpower]

Rock and A Hard Place

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: the aftermath of the Hungarian Grand Prix has your protective side clawing to the surface

Lando trudges into his driver’s room, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. The scent of champagne clings to him, a bitter reminder of the podium celebration he’d just endured. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he closes the door behind him, shutting out the world and its expectations.

You’re already there, waiting for him. Your eyes soften as you take in his dejected posture. “Hey, champ,” you say softly, approaching him with open arms.

Lando looks up, his eyes meeting yours. There’s a storm of emotions swirling in those color changing depths — disappointment, anger, and a hint of relief at seeing you. “Some champ I am,” he mutters, but he doesn’t resist as you wrap your arms around him.

“You finished P2. That’s still amazing,” you remind him, your voice gentle but firm. Your hands move to the zipper of his race suit, slowly peeling away the champagne-soaked fabric.

Lando lets out a bitter laugh. “Second place is just the first loser, isn’t it?” He winces as he moves his arms, the physical toll of the race finally catching up with him.

You shake your head, helping him out of the suit. “That’s not true and you know it. You fought hard out there.”

“I fought, alright,” Lando agrees, his voice tinged with frustration. “Fought with the team, fought with Will, fought with Oscar ...” He trails off, shaking his head.

As you help him step out of the suit, you can feel the tension radiating off him. “Talk to me, love. What happened out there?”

Lando sinks down onto the small couch in the room, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “It was all going so well at the start. Pole position, you know? I thought ... I really thought this could be it.”

You sit beside him, your hand finding his. “And then?”

“Oscar had a better start,” Lando explains, his free hand gesticulating as he speaks. “He took the lead, and I was right behind him. We were flying, both of us. But then the team ...” He pauses, swallowing hard.

“What did the team do?” You prompt gently, your thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of his hand.

Lando’s eyes meet yours, a mixture of hurt and confusion in them. “They told me to pit before Oscar. I undercut him, took the lead. I thought ... I thought they were backing me for the win.”

You nod, encouraging him to continue. The pain in his voice is palpable, and your heart aches for him.

“But then they started pushing for a swap,” Lando continues, his voice rising slightly. “They wanted me to give the position back to Oscar. Can you believe that? After I’d fought so hard to get there?”

“That must have been so frustrating,” you say softly, squeezing his hand.

Lando nods vigorously. “It was! I mean, I get team orders, I do. But this ... it felt like they were playing with me. One minute they’re helping me get ahead, the next they want me to give it all up.”

“Did you argue with them?” You ask, though you already know the answer from the tension in his body.

“For laps,” Lando admits, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “Will probably has a headache from all my yelling. But in the end ... in the end, I had to do it. Three laps from the end, I let Oscar by.”

You lean in, resting your head on his shoulder. “That must have been a really tough decision.”

Lando’s arm wraps around you, pulling you closer. “It was. I ... I know it was the right thing to do for the team. But it hurts, you know? To be so close and then ...”

“And then have it slip away,” you finish for him. “I can’t imagine how that feels.”

Lando’s quiet for a moment, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair. “It feels like shit, if I’m honest,” he finally says, a weak laugh escaping him.

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “But you did it anyway. That takes a lot of strength. A lot of maturity.”

He shrugs, but you can see a flicker of pride in his eyes. “Maybe. Still doesn’t feel great, though.”

“I know,” you say, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “But I’m so proud of you. Not just for the podium, but for how you handled everything.”

Lando leans into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” you affirm. “You showed real team spirit out there. And let’s not forget, you started on pole. That’s incredible in itself.”

A small smile starts to form on Lando’s lips. “It was a pretty good qualifying, wasn’t it?”

You grin, nodding enthusiastically. “It was amazing. You were flying around that track like it was your personal playground.”

Lando’s smile grows, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I did feel pretty good yesterday. Like I could do no wrong.”

“Because you’re talented, Lando,” you remind him, your voice warm with affection. “So incredibly talented. One race doesn’t change that.”

He looks at you, his eyes softening. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

You shrug, a playful smirk on your lips. “It’s a gift. Plus, I happen to be your biggest fan.”

Lando chuckles, the sound warming your heart. “My biggest fan, huh? I thought that was Zak.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Zak’s got nothing on me. I’ve got the inside scoop on Lando Norris.”

“Oh yeah?” Lando raises an eyebrow, a hint of his usual playfulness returning. “And what’s that?”

You lean in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. “That he’s not just an incredible driver, but also the kindest, funniest, most amazing person I know.”

Lando’s cheeks flush slightly, but his eyes are bright as they meet yours. “You’re biased,” he accuses, but there’s no heat in his words.

“Guilty as charged,” you admit with a grin. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

Lando’s hand comes up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs.

“Luckily, you’ll never have to find out,” you reply, leaning into his touch.

For a moment, you both sit in comfortable silence, the earlier tension gradually dissipating. Then Lando speaks again, his voice softer now. “You know, even with everything that happened ... standing on that podium, I couldn’t help but think about how far we’ve come. The team, I mean.”

You nod encouragingly. “It’s been quite a journey, hasn’t it?”

“God, yes,” Lando agrees, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “Remember when getting into Q3 was a big deal? And now we’re fighting for wins, getting double podiums ...”

“It’s incredible,” you say, your voice filled with genuine awe. “You should be so proud of the part you’ve played in that.”

Lando’s quiet for a moment, considering your words. “I am,” he finally says, a note of surprise in his voice. “I really am. It’s just ... sometimes it’s hard to see the big picture.”

You nod, understanding. “That’s why you’ve got me. To remind you of how far you’ve come when you’re too close to see it yourself.”

Lando’s arm tightens around you, pulling you closer. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You grin up at him. “You were just you. That’s more than enough.”

Lando’s eyes soften, a warmth spreading through him that has nothing to do with the room temperature. “I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “So much.”

“I love you too,” you reply, heart swelling with affection. “Forever and ever.”

As you lean in to kiss him, you can feel the last of the tension leaving Lando’s body. The disappointment of the race isn’t forgotten, but it’s faded into the background, overshadowed by the love and support between you.

When you finally pull apart, Lando’s smiling — a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. “You know,” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice, “I think I might need some help getting this champagne off me. Fancy a shower?”

You laugh, standing up and offering him your hand. “Lead the way. I hear you’re pretty good at that.”

As Lando takes your hand, his earlier frustration seems a distant memory. There will be other races, other chances for victory. But right now, in this moment, he has everything he needs — the love of his life, a promising career, and the knowledge that no matter what happens on track, he always has a home to come back to in your arms.

***

The soft glow of candlelight flickers across the table, casting dancing shadows on Lando’s face as he leans in, a conspiratorial grin on his lips. “You know,” he says, his voice low and playful, “I think I might actually be hungry enough to eat everything on this menu.”

You laugh, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “Everything? Even the fish?”

Lando’s nose wrinkles, but his grin doesn’t falter. “Okay, maybe not everything. But close enough.”

The restaurant buzzes with quiet conversation around you, a contrast to the chaos of the track earlier in the day. It’s a small, intimate place, tucked away from the main streets of Budapest — a hidden gem Lando discovered during one of his previous visits to the city.

“I’m just glad we managed to sneak out without anyone recognizing us,” you say, reaching across the table to intertwine your fingers with his. “It’s nice to have you all to myself for a change.”

Lando’s thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand, his eyes soft in the candlelight. “Trust me, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

As the waiter approaches with your drinks — a local craft beer for Lando and a colorful cocktail for you — Lando’s phone buzzes on the table. He glances at it, a small frown creasing his brow.

“Everything okay?” You ask, concern coloring your voice.

Lando nods, but there’s a hint of tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Yeah, just ... social media’s going a bit mad about the race. Some people aren’t too happy about how it played out.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Hey, look at me. What matters is that you did what was best for the team. That takes real strength.”

Lando’s eyes meet yours, a mixture of gratitude and lingering doubt in them. “I know, I just ... sometimes I wonder if I made the right call.”

Before you can respond, a loud voice cuts through the restaurant’s gentle ambiance. “Oi! Is that Lando Norris?”

Lando stiffens, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as you both turn to see a man stumbling towards your table. The strong smell of alcohol precedes him, and his eyes are slightly unfocused as he points an accusatory finger at Lando.

“It is you!” The man slurs, swaying slightly as he reaches your table. “The guy who gave up the win. What kind of racer does that, eh?”

Lando takes a deep breath, his media training kicking in as he forces a polite smile. “I’m sorry, mate, but we’re trying to have a private dinner here. Maybe we could chat another time?”

The man ignores him, his voice rising. “Nah, I wanna talk now. You know what? None of the greats would’ve done what you did today. Senna wouldn’t have moved over. Schumacher wouldn’t have. Hell, even Hamilton wouldn’t have.”

You can see Lando’s jaw clenching, his earlier good mood evaporating. “Look, I understand you’re upset, but-”

“Upset?” The man interrupts, laughing bitterly. “I’m not upset, I’m disappointed. You had a chance to prove yourself today, and you blew it. That’s why you’ll never be a world champion.”

The words hit Lando like a physical blow. You watch as he flinches, the doubt and self-recrimination from earlier flooding back into his eyes.

That’s when something inside you snaps.

You stand up abruptly, your chair scraping loudly against the floor. The restaurant goes quiet, all eyes turning to your table.

“Excuse me,” you say, your voice calm but with an edge of steel, “but I think you need to leave. Now.”

The man turns his bleary gaze on you, a sneer twisting his features. “Oh yeah? And who are you to tell me what to do?”

You step closer, your eyes flashing with anger. “I’m someone who actually understands what happened out there today. Unlike you, who’s clearly talking out of your arse.”

Lando reaches for your hand, his voice low and urgent. “It’s okay, really. Let’s just ignore him.”

But you’re not about to let this go. Not when this drunken idiot is tearing down everything Lando’s worked so hard for.

“No, it’s not okay,” you say, loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear. “This man,” you gesture to Lando, “drove an incredible race today. He started on pole, fought hard for every position, and when it came down to it, he put his team first. That takes more courage and integrity than you could ever understand.”

The drunk fan scoffs, but you’re not finished.

“You want to talk about the greats? Let’s talk about them. Senna, Schumacher, Hamilton — they all understood the importance of teamwork. They all had races where they had to make tough decisions for the good of the team. That’s part of what made them champions.”

You’re on a roll now, your voice rising with passion. “Lando didn’t give up today. He showed exactly why he’s one of the best drivers on the grid. He proved he can make the hard calls, that he understands the bigger picture. That’s what separates the good drivers from the great ones.”

The man opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “And you know what? The fact that you can’t see that says a lot more about you than it does about Lando. A true fan, a true lover of the sport, would understand the complexity of these decisions. They’d appreciate the skill and the emotional strength involved, not just blindly demand wins at any cost.”

The restaurant is dead silent now, everyone watching the confrontation unfold. Lando’s looking at you with a mixture of awe and affection, his earlier doubts forgotten in the face of your fierce defense.

The drunk fan, however, isn’t backing down. “Oh, spare me the lecture,” he sneers. “You’re just defending him because-”

You don’t let him finish. In one swift motion, you pick up your cocktail and dump it over the man’s head.

Gasps echo through the restaurant as the colorful liquid drips down the man’s face, soaking into his shirt. For a moment, he stands there in shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“I think,” you say, your voice cold, “that you need to leave.”

The man splutters, wiping ineffectually at his face. “You ... you can’t ...”

“She can, and she did,” Lando says, standing up to join you. There’s a new confidence in his posture, a glint of pride in his eyes as he looks at you. “And she’s right. About everything.”

The restaurant manager appears then, flanked by two burly waiters. “Sir,” he says to the drunk fan, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We don’t tolerate harassment of our guests.”

As the man is escorted out, still muttering under his breath, the tension in the room gradually dissipates. A few nearby diners even break into applause, offering you supportive smiles.

Lando turns to you, his eyes shining with a mixture of love and admiration. “That was ... wow. Just wow.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, the adrenaline of the moment starting to fade. “I’m sorry if I made a scene. I just couldn’t stand hearing him talk to you like that.”

Lando shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Are you kidding? That was incredible. I’ve never had anyone defend me like that before.”

The manager approaches your table, looking apologetic. “I’m so sorry about that incident. Please, allow us to comp your meal and offer you a bottle of our finest champagne.”

Lando glances at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What do you say? Fancy celebrating for a change?”

You laugh, the last of the tension leaving your body. “Absolutely. Though maybe I should stick to water from now on. I seem to have misplaced my cocktail.”

As you settle back into your seats, the other diners returning to their own conversations, Lando reaches across the table to take your hand again.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on your skin. “Not just for what you said to that guy, but for believing in me. Even when I struggle to believe in myself sometimes.”

You squeeze his hand, your heart swelling with affection. “Always. You’re an incredible driver. But more than that, you’re an incredible person. That’s what I love most about you.”

Lando’s eyes soften, a warmth spreading through his chest that has nothing to do with the candlelight or the promise of champagne. “I love you too. More than I can put into words.”

As the waiter arrives with a bottle of champagne and fresh glasses, you raise your glass in a toast. “To Lando Norris,” you say, your voice full of pride, “future world champion and the best teammate anyone could ask for — on and off the track.”

Lando clinks his glass against yours, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “And to you,” he adds, “my fiercest defender and the love of my life.”

As you sip your champagne, the earlier incident fades into the background. What remains is the warmth of your love for each other, the pride in what you’ve accomplished together, and the excitement for all that’s still to come.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of laughter, good food, and quiet moments of affection. By the time you leave the restaurant, hand-in-hand, the difficulties of the race day seem like a distant memory.

As you walk back to the hotel, Lando pulls you close, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You know,” he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “I think I might need to hire you as my official defender. You’re much scarier than any PR team.”

You laugh, nudging him gently with your shoulder. “Please, as if you could afford me.”

Lando grins, his arm tightening around you. “Oh, I think I could manage. How does a lifetime contract sound? All expenses paid, of course.”

Your heart skips a beat at the implication behind his words. “A lifetime, huh? That’s a pretty long time.”

Lando stops walking, turning to face you. In the soft glow of the streetlights, his eyes are full of love and certainty. “Not nearly long enough, if you ask me.”

***

The bedside lamp casts a dim light across the hotel room. Lando’s arm is draped lazily over your waist, his breath tickling the back of your neck as you both bask in the comfortable silence. The events of the day seem far away now, eclipsed by the simple pleasure of being together.

“I think,” Lando murmurs, his voice heavy with contentment, “this might be my favorite part of race weekends.”

You turn slightly to face him, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Even better than qualifying on pole?”

Lando grins, pulling you closer. “Well, maybe it’s a close second. But only because I get to do this every single night.”

You’re about to reply when Lando’s phone suddenly buzzes on the nightstand, the screen illuminating with an incoming call. Lando groans, burying his face in your shoulder. “If that’s Andrea calling to debrief again, I swear ...”

But as he reaches for the phone, his eyes widen in surprise. “That’s ... weird.”

“What is it?” You ask, curiosity piqued by his reaction.

“It’s ... it’s Seb,” Lando says, his voice a mixture of confusion and excitement. “Sebastian Vettel.”

Before you can respond, Lando fumbles with the phone, his usual dexterity deserting him in his surprise. Somehow, he manages to not only drop the phone but also lose his balance, tumbling out of the bed with a yelp.

You can’t help but laugh as Lando scrambles on the floor, trying to answer the call before it goes to voicemail. “Hello? Seb?” He says breathlessly, still tangled in the bedsheets.

“Lando?” Sebastian’s familiar voice comes through the speaker, tinged with amusement. “Are you alright? It sounded like you were wrestling a bear there for a moment.”

Lando’s face flushes as he rights himself, sitting on the edge of the bed. “No, no, I’m fine. Just, uh, dropped the phone. Bit surprised to hear from you, to be honest.”

You scoot closer, curious about this unexpected call. Sebastian rarely reached out unless he was attending a race, which had become a once-a-season occurrence since his retirement.

“I can imagine,” Sebastian chuckles. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”

“No, not at all,” Lando assures him, even as you playfully poke his side. “What’s up, Seb?”

There’s a brief pause before Sebastian speaks again, his tone becoming more serious. “I watched the race today. Quite a day you had, wasn’t it?”

Lando’s shoulders tense slightly, the memories of the race and its aftermath flooding back. “Yeah, it was ... intense.”

“I can imagine,” Sebastian says, his voice softening with understanding. “Team orders are never easy to deal with, especially when you’re fighting for the win.”

Lando nods, even though Sebastian can’t see him. “It’s just ... I don’t know. Part of me feels like I should have fought harder, you know? Maybe I gave in too easily.”

There’s a gentle sigh from Sebastian’s end. “Do you remember Multi 21?”

Lando’s brow furrows in confusion. “The incident with you and Mark Webber? At Malaysia in 2013?”

“That’s the one,” Sebastian confirms. “I was in a similar position to you today, but I made a different choice. And I want to talk to you about it, if that’s okay.”

Lando’s eyes widen, and he quickly puts the phone on speaker so you can hear too. “Of course, Seb. I’d really appreciate that.”

Sebastian’s voice fills the room, carrying the weight of experience. “Back then, I was young, hungry for success. When the team told me to hold position behind Mark, I ... well, I ignored them. I overtook him and won the race.”

“I remember watching that,” Lando says softly. “It was a big deal at the time.”

“It was,” Sebastian agrees. “And you know what? In the moment, it felt amazing. I won, I had proven I was the faster driver. But looking back now, I realize it came at a cost.”

You watch as Lando leans forward, hanging on Sebastian’s every word. “What do you mean?” He asks.

“It damaged the team’s trust in me,” Sebastian explains. “It strained my relationship with Mark, with the engineers, even with some of the fans. And more than that, it ... it wasn’t the right thing to do.”

Lando’s quiet for a moment, processing this. “But you were racing. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Fight for every position?”

Sebastian’s laugh is gentle, understanding. “That’s what I told myself at the time. But being part of a team means sometimes putting the team’s needs above your own desires. It’s a hard lesson to learn, and an even harder one to apply in the heat of the moment.”

“So you think I made the right call today?” Lando asks, a hint of hope in his voice.

“I think you showed incredible maturity and team spirit,” Sebastian says firmly. “It’s not easy to give up a potential win, especially when you’re in the position to fight for it. But by doing so, you’ve strengthened your team, shown your commitment to the bigger picture.”

You can see Lando’s shoulders relaxing as Sebastian speaks, some of the doubt from earlier melting away.

“But what about the championship?” Lando asks. “Every point counts, and I gave up quite a few today.”

Sebastian’s voice takes on a thoughtful tone. “Championships aren’t won or lost in a single race. They’re built on consistency, on the strength of the team as a whole. What you did today? That builds the kind of trust and respect within a team that can carry you through an entire season.”

Lando nods slowly, his fingers intertwining with yours as he listens. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Plus,” Sebastian adds, a smile evident in his voice, “there’s something to be said for karma in this sport. The goodwill you build up? It has a way of coming back around when you least expect it.”

“You really think so?” Lando asks, a hint of his usual optimism creeping back into his voice.

“I know so,” Sebastian assures him. “I’ve seen it happen time and time again. The drivers who put the team first, who understand the bigger picture? They’re the ones who end up with long, successful careers. They’re the ones who become true champions.”

You squeeze Lando’s hand, seeing the impact Sebastian’s words are having on him.

“Thanks, Seb,” Lando says, his voice thick with emotion. “I really appreciate you calling. It means a lot.”

“Anytime, Lando,” Sebastian replies warmly. “We’ve all been where you are. It’s important to support each other in this crazy world of Formula 1.”

There’s a brief pause before Sebastian speaks again, his tone lighter. “Now, I hope you’re not spending the whole night dwelling on this. You’re in Budapest, after all. Beautiful city. Plenty to celebrate.”

Lando chuckles, some of his usual cheerfulness returning. “Don’t worry, we’ve been making the most of it. Even had a bit of excitement at dinner.”

“Oh?” Sebastian’s curiosity is piqued. “Do tell.”

Lando glances at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s just say my girlfriend has a mean cocktail toss.”

You can’t help but laugh as Lando recounts the incident at the restaurant, Sebastian’s warm laughter joining yours through the phone.

“Sounds like you’ve found yourself a keeper there,” Sebastian says, his voice full of amusement and approval. “Don’t let that one go.”

Lando’s eyes meet yours. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to.”

As the call winds down, Sebastian’s tone becomes serious once more. “Remember, Lando. What you did today? That’s the mark of a true champion. Keep that spirit, that integrity, and you’ll go far in this sport. And in life.”

“Thanks, Seb,” Lando says softly. “Really, thank you.”

After they say their goodbyes and Lando hangs up, he sits there for a moment, still processing the conversation. You wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“You okay?” You ask gently.

Lando nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I am. Actually, I’m better than okay. That was ... wow. I can’t believe Seb called just to talk about that.”

“He clearly thinks highly of you,” you say, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “And he’s right, you know. What you did today? It was pretty amazing.”

Lando turns to face you, his eyes shining with renewed confidence. “You know what? It was. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still want to win. But maybe ... maybe there’s more than one way to be a champion.”

You smile, your heart swelling with pride. “That’s my Lando.”

As you both settle back into bed, Lando pulls you close, his voice soft in the darkness. “Thank you for being here through all of this. For defending me, for supporting me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You snuggle closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “You’d probably still be on the floor after falling out of bed,” you tease gently.

Lando’s laugh rumbles through his chest. “Probably. Good thing I’ve got you to keep me grounded, then.”

***

The early morning sunlight streams through the large windows of the hotel’s breakfast area, shining over the scattered tables. The room buzzes with the quiet chatter of guests and the clink of cutlery against plates. At a corner table, a group of McLaren team members are huddled together, their conversation animated despite the early hour.

You spot them as you enter, your eyes immediately drawn to Will Joseph, Lando’s race engineer. He’s gesturing with a piece of toast, apparently deep in discussion about yesterday’s race. For a moment, you consider joining Lando for breakfast in your room, but the memory of Will’s voice over the team radio, pushing Lando to give up his position, makes you change course.

With a bright smile fixed on your face, you approach the table. “Good morning, everyone!” You say cheerfully, your voice causing the group to look up in surprise.

Will’s eyebrows raise slightly as he recognizes you. “Oh, good morning,” he replies, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. “Lando not with you?”

You shake your head, your smile never wavering. “He’s still getting ready. I thought I’d come down and grab us some coffee.” Your eyes lock onto Will’s. “Mind if I borrow you for a moment? I’d love to chat about yesterday’s race.”

The other team members exchange glances, sensing the underlying tension despite your cheerful demeanor. Will hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Of course, no problem.”

As Will stands to follow you to a nearby empty table, you turn to the others. “I promise I’ll return him in one piece,” you say with a wink, eliciting nervous chuckles from the group.

Once seated at the new table, you lean forward, your elbows resting on the surface, fingers interlaced. Your smile remains, but there’s a steely glint in your eyes that makes Will shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“So, Will,” you begin, your voice light and conversational, “quite a race yesterday, wasn’t it?”

Will nods, his posture stiff. “Yes, it was. A great result for the team, all things considered.”

“Mmm, indeed,” you agree, your head tilting slightly to one side. “A double podium. That’s certainly something to celebrate.” You pause, your smile growing a fraction wider. “Of course, it could have been even better, couldn’t it?”

Will’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Well, in racing, there’s always room for improvement, but-”

“Oh, I’m not talking about the racing, Will,” you interrupt smoothly. “I’m talking about your performance.”

Confusion flickers across Will’s face. “My performance?”

You nod, your expression one of exaggerated sympathy. “Your radio communications, to be specific. You know, I couldn’t help but notice how ... persistent you were with Lando yesterday.”

Will’s shoulders tense visibly. “I was just relaying the team’s strategy-”

“Were you?” You ask, your voice dripping with false innocence. “Because from where I was standing, it sounded an awful lot like emotional manipulation.”

Will’s eyes widen, a flush creeping up his neck. “ I... that wasn’t my intention at all. I was just doing my job.”

You lean back in your chair, your smile never faltering. “Your job is to support Lando, to help him perform at his best. Not to badger him into submission when he’s fighting for a win.”

“The team decision was-” Will starts, but you cut him off again.

“The team decision is one thing, Will. How you communicate that decision is another entirely.” Your voice drops lower, the cheerfulness giving way to a steely edge. “Do you have any idea what it does to Lando when you push him like that? When you make him doubt himself in the middle of a race?”

Will shifts uncomfortably, his breakfast forgotten. “I never meant to-”

“Of course you didn’t,” you say, your smile returning full force. “Which is why we’re having this little chat. So you can make sure it never happens again.”

Will’s brow furrows. “Are you ... are you threatening me?”

You laugh, the sound light and airy, completely at odds with the intensity of your gaze. “Threatening? Oh, Will, don’t be silly. I’m just having a friendly conversation with my boyfriend’s colleague. I’m simply pointing out that if I ever hear you speaking to Lando like that again, well ...” You pause, your smile widening to show teeth. “Let’s just say I can be very creative when it comes to protecting the people I love.”

Will swallows hard, his face pale. “I ... I understand.”

You clap your hands together, the sound making Will jump slightly. “Wonderful! I’m so glad we had this chat. It’s so important for the team to be on the same page, don’t you think?”

Before Will can respond, you stand up, your cheerful demeanor back in full force. “Well, I should get back to Lando. He’ll be wondering where his coffee is. Have a great day, Will!”

As you turn to leave, you pause, looking back over your shoulder. “Oh, and Will? Remember, Lando’s not just a driver. He’s a person. A brilliant, talented person who deserves respect and support. I trust you’ll keep that in mind next time you’re on the radio with him.”

With a final, dazzling smile, you walk away, leaving a stunned Will staring after you.

As you make your way to the coffee station, you can’t help but overhear snippets of conversation from the McLaren table.

“What was that about?” One of the engineers asks Will as he returns, looking slightly shell-shocked.

Will shakes his head, reaching for his water glass with a slightly trembling hand. “Just a friendly chat,” he mutters, his voice lacking conviction.

You smile to yourself as you pour two cups of coffee, adding cream and sugar to Lando’s just the way he likes it. As you head back to your room, you can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It might have been a bit dramatic, but if it means Lando gets the support he deserves on track, it’s worth it.

When you enter the room, Lando’s just finishing getting dressed, his hair still damp from the shower. He looks up as you enter, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“There you are,” he says, crossing the room to take one of the coffee cups from you. “I was starting to think you’d got lost on the way to the breakfast buffet.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Just ran into some of the team downstairs. Thought I’d say good morning.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Oh yeah? Anyone in particular?”

You shrug, your expression innocent. “Oh, you know, just the usual suspects. Will was there.”

Lando’s eyes narrow slightly. “Will, huh? And how was that?”

“Oh, you know,” you say airily, taking a sip of your coffee. “Just a friendly chat. Nothing to worry about.”

Lando studies you for a moment, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story?”

You set your coffee down and wrap your arms around his waist, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Because you know me too well. But trust me, it’s nothing bad. I just ... may have had a little talk with Will about how he communicates with you during races.”

Lando’s eyes widen. “You didn’t ...”

“I did,” you confirm, your tone unapologetic. “Someone needed to say something. The way he was pushing you yesterday, it wasn’t right.”

For a moment, Lando looks torn between embarrassment and gratitude. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face. “You really are my fiercest defender, aren’t you?”

You grin, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of his hair. “Someone’s got to look out for you out there.”

Lando shakes his head, but his eyes are soft with affection. “You know I can fight my own battles, right?”

“Of course you can,” you agree. “But that doesn’t mean you have to fight them alone. We’re a team, remember?”

Lando pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah, we are. The best team.”

As you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you can’t help but feel a surge of love and protectiveness. You know Lando is more than capable of handling himself, both on and off the track. But if you can make things even a little bit easier for him, if you can ensure he gets the support and respect he deserves, then you’ll do whatever it takes.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what love is. It’s standing up for each other, supporting each other, and facing the world together — whether that world is the circuits of Formula 1 or the quiet moments in a hotel room.

And as Lando looks at you, his eyes full of love and gratitude, you know you’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Because he’s worth it. He’s worth everything.

[thef1diary]

Fill Me Up | C. Sainz

Kinktober 5/11 - Breeding Kink

Summary: Your husband, Carlos, realizes how much he wants to see you pregnant with his baby.

warnings: 18+ smut, mentions of pregnancy obvs, unprotected sex, husband!carlos, lil bit of body worship

wc: 3.2k

kinktober masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The Mediterranean air was cool as it drifted through the open balcony doors, carrying the scent of the sea into the bedroom. The soft sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below your villa was the only noise breaking the peaceful silence. 

You lay nestled against your husband’s chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulling you into a serene haze. His arm rested lazily over your waist, fingertips grazing your skin underneath your blouse in absentminded circles. The room was awash in the amber glow of the setting sun, casting shadows that danced lazily across the walls, making everything feel soft and intimate. 

Carlos murmured your name softly, the rich, deep timbre of his voice stirring something in you as it always did. His accent, thick and sultry, curled around each syllable like a caress. You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

“Have you ever thought about what’s next for us?” He asked, his voice gentle but laced with an unmistakable undercurrent of anticipation. 

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as you propped yourself up on one elbow, searching his face. “What’s on your mind, love?” you teased, your lips curving into a grin. “I mean, I already have a ridiculously handsome husband who spoils me to no end… what more could there be?”

Carlos let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head while a smile graced his lips. “I love spoiling you, cariño.”

You leaned in, pressing a playful kiss to the tip of his nose. “Mhm, I know,” you murmured against his skin, feeling the warmth of his smile as he grasped your left hand, his thumb brushing over the diamond that glistened in the fading sunlight. 

His gaze dropped to your ring finger, lingering there as his expression softened. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the base of the ring, where it met your skin. 

“I love spoiling you,” he repeated, his voice lower now, more serious. “But there’s something else I’ve been thinking about.”

The shift in his tone made your heart skip a beat. You tilted your head, searching his eyes, feeling the sudden intensity of the moment. “What is it, Carlos?”

“I’ve been thinking…” he began, his words deliberate, measured. “About spoiling someone else, too.” His eyes flickered with meaning, the weight of his words hanging between you.

You felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest, your breath catching in your throat as the implication of what he was saying began to sink in. “Someone else?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper, already sensing where this conversation was leading.

Carlos nodded, his thumb still tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I want to spoil our child, cariño,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “I want to start a family with you.” 

The words hung in the air, charged with the same magnetic energy that always seemed to exist between you and him. You blinked, a thousand emotions swirling inside you all at once—surprise, excitement, desire, and that unmistakable longing that had been quietly growing within you, even if you hadn’t fully acknowledged it until now.

Carlos shifted underneath you, his hand sliding from your palm to rest on your stomach, his touch warm and possessive. “I want to see you carrying our baby,” he whispered, leaning forward just enough for his lips to graze your temple. “Want to give you everything… including the family we’ve always dreamt of.” 

You took a deep breath, your hand coming to rest over his where it splayed across your stomach. “I’ve thought about it too,” you confessed, your voice low and thick with emotion. “Maybe a couple of kids… hopefully with your fluffy hair and those big brown eyes. Getting to see you become a father… that’s always been the plan.”

Carlos’ grip tightened slightly as you spoke, his gaze locked on yours with a fire that made your heart race. But even as you spoke, you couldn’t help the question bubbling up inside you, the slight confusion that tinged the edges of your joy. “But… where did this suddenly come from?”

His hand slid lower on your waist as he gently maneuvered you onto his lap, his back resting against the headboard. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his chest. The new position made your heart pound faster, the intimacy of it filling you with warmth.

He didn’t respond, which caused you to lean back a bit, narrowing your eyes as you pressed the back of your hand against his forehead, pretending to check for a fever.  

“Are you feeling okay?” you teased, your voice light and full of mock concern. “You’re not running a temperature, are you? Because this doesn’t sound like my Carlos. Last I checked, we were on the ‘wait and see’ plan.”

He let out a low chuckle, his lips curving into that devilishly handsome smile that always made your heart skip a beat. Carlos gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his forehead, but not before pressing a kiss to your palm.

“I’m perfectly fine, cariño,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But you can check me all you want if it means you’ll be this close.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, playfully pushing against his chest, but he was having none of it. His hands slid up your sides, holding you firmly as he leaned forward, gently turning you on your back. The cool sheets beneath you contrasted with the heat of his body hovering above, and your pulse quickened, the intensity between you crackling like electricity in the air.

He looked down at you, his gaze locking onto yours while his hands, firm and sure, settled on either side of your head, caging you in as he lowered himself just enough for his breath to ghost over your lips.

“Do you want this too?” Carlos’ voice was low, a husky murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. 

Without hesitation, you reached up, threading your fingers through his thick, dark hair, pulling him down until your lips met in a searing kiss. The hunger in it was undeniable, your body arching up into him as you deepened the kiss, tasting the desire and the promise in his every move. 

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you stared up into his eyes, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with every ounce of need you felt.

“Put a baby in me,” you murmured, your words bold and breathless as your hand trailed down his back, fingers grazing over the toned muscles that tensed under your touch. “Right here… right now. I want it, Carlos. I want everything with you.”

Carlos let out a low, guttural moan at your words, his hips pressing hard against yours, his control slipping as you felt the full weight of his desire through his pants. 

“Dios, cariño… you’re going to look so perfect, carrying our baby,” he mumbled, his voice rough and dripping with lust.

His hands moved with purpose, sliding down your sides to tug at your clothes, pulling them away from your body as fast as he could. The cool air hit your skin, but you barely felt it—your body burning for him, for the promise he’d whispered into your ear.

Carlos’ gaze lingered as his hands roamed over your bare skin, rough fingers tracing a path from your collarbone to the soft curve of your breasts. His breath hitched, eyes darkening with desire as he cupped you gently, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, making you arch into his touch.

“Look at you…” he murmured, his voice low and filled with reverence as he massaged your breasts, his touch both tender and possessive. “You’re already so perfect… but when you’re pregnant, cariño…” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the hunger there made your pulse race. “Your tits will be even fuller, and I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

His words sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, your body responding instantly to the way he worshipped you. Carlos leaned down, his lips grazing your skin as he kissed the tops of your breasts, his breath warm and ragged against you.

“They’ll be sensitive… aching for me to relieve the pain,” he continued, his voice rough as he squeezed you gently, his thumbs teasing your nipples until you gasped. “And I’ll be there to make sure you feel good… every single day.”

A low moan escaped your lips, your hands gripping his biceps as he continued his slow, deliberate worship of your body, each word from his mouth stoking the fire building inside you.

Carlos lifted his head, his lips brushing yours in a soft, fleeting kiss before he pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours once more. “You want that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice thick with lust. “You want to feel me inside you, filling you up until you’re carrying my baby… until your body is mine in every way.”

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you arched up, pressing your chest against his, needing more of him—needing all of him.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice low and filled with need. “I want it… I want all of it, Carlos. I want you.”

Carlos groaned at your words, his control slipping further as his hands moved lower, gripping your hips as he settled between your legs.

“I’m going to give it to you,” he whispered, his voice dark and full of promise. “You’re going to feel me, every inch of me, until I’m deep inside you… filling you up.”

You moaned at the raw intensity of his words, your hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to be consumed by him.

Your hands moved with urgency, sliding down his back before pushing at his shirt, needing to feel more of his skin beneath your fingertips. Carlos helped you, sitting back for just a moment to pull the fabric over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the toned muscles of his arms. The sight of him, all broad shoulders and strength, made your mouth go dry.

He leaned back down, pressing his lips to your neck as you fumbled with the waistband of his pants. Your fingers trembled slightly, driven by the heat building between you, and Carlos smirked against your skin, his breath hot and teasing.

“Eager, cariño?” he teased, his voice a low rumble against your throat.

You let out a soft laugh, though it was shaky, your fingers finally succeeding in pushing his pants down his hips. “You have no idea,” you murmured back, biting your lip as you felt him, hard and ready, pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

Carlos groaned as you reached down, palming him through the material, his hips jerking into your hand in response. “Fuck…” he breathed, his voice rough with need. “You keep doing that, and I won’t be able to take my time with you.”

You smiled, leaning up to nip at his jaw as you slid your hand into his boxers, your fingers wrapping around him, feeling just how much he wanted you. “Who said I wanted you to take your time?” you whispered against his skin.

His hips bucked into your hand at your words, and you could feel him, hard and throbbing against your palm.

Carlos pulled your hand away, pinning it above your head as he lowered himself back down over you, his free hand sliding along your thigh, spreading you open beneath him. “You’re such a tease, but I’ve waited long enough,” he murmured, his voice thick with need as he positioned himself between your legs. “I want you now.”

Your heart raced, your breath catching in your throat as he leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was more intense, more urgent than before. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in his body as he hovered just above you, holding back for only a moment.

And then, with one slow, deliberate thrust, he was inside you.

A gasp tore from your lips, your body arching up to meet him as he filled you completely, the feeling of him deep inside making your mind go blank for a second. Carlos groaned low in his throat, his hips grinding against yours as he buried himself to the hilt, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“Fuck… you feel so good, so wet” he mumbled, his voice strained with pleasure. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, the intensity of his gaze making your pulse race. “You’re perfect, cariño. So fucking perfect.”

You moaned softly, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you moved with him, your bodies falling into a slow, steady rhythm that built with each thrust. Every movement sent a new wave of pleasure crashing over you, your body responding to him in ways that left you dizzy and breathless.

His hand slid down to your lower stomach, pressing lightly as he groaned against your skin.

“You feel that?” he rasped, his voice dark and full of desire. “Feel how deep I am inside you… I’m going to fill you up, just like you asked.”

Your breath hitched as Carlos’s hand pressed against your lower stomach, the weight of his touch amplifying the sensation of him buried deep inside you. His words sent a shiver racing down your spine, every syllable dripping with raw desire. You could barely think, your mind clouded with the overwhelming feeling of him—how he filled you completely, pushing you closer to the edge with every movement.

“Yes,” you whispered, voice trembling with need, your fingers clawing at his back as you arched into him. “I feel it… I want it, Carlos. I want you to fill me.”

A low groan escaped him, his hips grinding harder against yours in response to your plea. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, trailing slow, heated kisses as he began to thrust deeper, each movement purposeful and powerful. The friction, the pressure, sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, leaving you breathless.

His lips grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver straight down your spine, making you clench around him. He hummed, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “squeezing me so tight, cariño, I could stay inside you forever.”

Just as you thought the pleasure couldn’t get more intense, Carlos’s hand slipped lower, his fingers finding your clit. He teased you, drawing gentle circles that made you gasp, every touch sending electricity through you. As his fingers worked their magic, he leaned down, his mouth finding your nipple. He licked and nipped at the sensitive peak, his tongue swirling with a heated urgency that drove you wild.

The tension inside you coiled tighter, your body responding to him with every touch, every word. You could feel your release building, the pleasure tightening in your core as Carlos pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m so close,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. Your nails dug into his back, desperate to hold on as you lost yourself in him. “Don’t stop, please… I need it.”

“Then cum for me, cariño,” he urged, his fingers never relenting on your clit while his mouth continued to suck and tease your nipple. “I want to feel you break apart around me.”

With the combination of his thrusts, his fingers, and the heat of his mouth, you felt yourself spiraling toward ecstasy, every sensation amplifying until you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Carlos!” you cried out, your body quaking as pleasure washed over you in waves, your orgasm crashing down with an intensity that took your breath away. You felt him groan in response, the sensation of him filling you with his cum driving you even higher as your body clamped around him, squeezing tightly as he rode out your release.

He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still working on your clit until you were completely spent, trembling beneath him as he kissed you softly, his lips lingering over your skin. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Absolutely perfect.”

For a moment, you both lingered in that afterglow, bodies entwined, breaths mingling as you basked in the warmth of each other. Your fingers drifted over the planes of his back, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath beneath your palm, while his gaze remained fixed on yours, a small, tender smile playing on his lips. He reached up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch featherlight and intimate.

Carlos’ presence enveloped you like a cozy blanket, and the sensation of him deep inside you sent soft waves of pleasure through your body. 

With a slow, deliberate movement, he pulled back, his cock slipping free from your body. The emptiness that followed made you whimper softly in protest, a sound that drew a low chuckle from him as he glanced down at the evidence of your shared pleasure pooling between your thighs.

“We can’t let any of this go to waste,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that resonated through the quiet room. His smirk widened as his fingers traced a path down to the mess between your legs, gathering the remnants of his release. The touch of his warm skin against your sensitive folds sent a shiver coursing through you, and when he pushed the slick mixture back into your clenching heat, you gasped, the intimacy of the act making your pulse quicken.

As he withdrew his fingers, you caught his wrist, guiding his hand to your lips. Your gaze locked with his as you wrapped your mouth around his cum-coated fingers, licking them clean with deliberate slowness. 

A playful smile tugged at your lips as you released his hand, your fingers tracing a gentle line along his jaw. “You know,” you murmured, voice low and teasing, “it might take a couple of tries for you to get me pregnant.”

Carlos’ eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and desire, his hand still resting on your hip as he leaned closer, his breath brushing warmly over your lips. “That’s alright,” he replied, his voice a rich, gravelly whisper. “In fact…” His fingers dipped lower, tracing lazy, suggestive circles over your still-sensitive skin, “I’d say the practice is half the fun.” 

Your breath caught as he dipped his head down, capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss that spoke of lingering hunger. His other hand moved to rest on your lower stomach, and you could still feel the phantom sensation of him filling you, of being stretched and claimed. When he pulled back, his mouth barely an inch from yours, he whispered, “Besides, I plan on savoring every single attempt until we get it just right.”

The promise in his tone sent a thrill racing through you, the implication that this wouldn’t be the last time he would fill you, over and over again, until you were heavy with the proof of his desire.

“Then why don’t we put in a little extra practice tonight?” you murmured, your voice carrying a teasing edge as your fingers traced the line of his jaw. “I want to make sure we get it just right too.”

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[ode2rin]

clingy!rin is my favorite rin <3

it’s 4:30 am, and rin is now wide awake.

rin woke up 30 minutes before his alarm went off. his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. he blinked a few times, his brain slowly registering that something was off.

that's when he saw your figure turning away from him, your back facing him. you weren't cuddled in his arms like how he remembered falling asleep.

he frowned, his eyebrows furrowed, a typical expression he held in his everyday life, but never towards you. never because of you. except now.

this was the first time it happened. or was it? did you always slip away from his hold when he was fast asleep? did you not like having him close like how he wanted you snuggled in him? or maybe he did something wrong last night? was it something he said? he couldn't recall.

all he knew right now was that he didn't like it. you don’t get to do this to him, rin thought. cuddles were a must for him to function properly! he will never tell you that but he knows you know that!

he laid there for a moment, staring at your back. as much as he hated what was happening right now, he didn't want to wake you up. because as much as you love and adore rin, the earliest of waking up as a part of the pro-athlete life was something you would never try. who in their right mind would wake up at the crack of dawn just to be tired all over again? definitely not you.

rin continued staring at you until his alarm went off. the loud blaring of his alarm stirred you from your sleep. slowly, you turned to rin, and your sleepy eyes blinked up to meet his narrowed ones.

uh oh. someone didn’t have a great sleep, you thought.

“your alarm, rinnie. time to start the day.” you said.

that’s all you could say? no explanation? fine. 

rin let out what seemed like a huff, causing you to open your eyes. lo and behold, rin was pouting.

rin itoshi was pouting. at 5 am.

curious as to what was making your lover sulk so early in the morning, you reached out to cup his jaw. “what’s wrong, baby?” you asked softly.

“you.”

it was now your turn to frown. “me? what do you mean?”

“you were turned away from me.” rin said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

you must be on a mission to completely infuriate him as you utter a “huh?” in response.

“i woke up and you were turned away from me.” rin replied, a little bolder and louder this time.

“oh.”

rin scoffed at your realization, completely opposite to the smile forming on your lips. 

you opened your arms, beckoning him closer. “come here, rinnie,” you said, your voice tender and soothing.

rin might be feeling a little grumpy, but who was he to decline such a sweet offer?

slowly, rin laid himself in your arms, his face buried in your neck as he took his time to get lost in your scent.

you stroked rin's hair, “i'm sorry,” you said, leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead, kissing the grumpiness away, “i must have moved in my sleep.”

rin let out a sigh at your answer, accepting that it was out of your control.

he wrapped his arms around you tighter, pulling you close to him. “just don't do it again,” he said, his voice hot against your neck. “i need you close to me.”

you smiled at his words. even if your boyfriend might be frequently grumpy and unconventionally clingy, you still wouldn’t have it any other way.

[tanaor]

Want simple tips to heavily improve your skills with character voice??

(📝Note: character voice is the way you convey your character's personality though their pov or dialogue when you write. No two characters speak the same📝)

I speak from experience when I say character voice is hard to get right. Characters, like people, have lots of layers that affect the way they see the world around them and how they interact with other characters. That's why character voice is so important in stories, and why if you write it in a compelling and effective way it will hook people into your story. I hope you learn something new in this post!!

When writing character voice, there's a list of things that you should take into account:

Where are they from? Their past and what they've lived plays a huge part in character voice. Maybe your character grew by the ocean, and so they compare things from the present to the beach, the rocks or the sea itself. You will rarely read about a sailor that is an expert in pants and compares scents to flowers. They might, instead, talk about how a house smells like the wet wood of a ship.

Think about how their personality shapes their language. If they are insecure, they might end most of their sentences with "isn't it?" or "right?" and ask a lot of questions, whereas if you have a confident character, you might find them saying things like "we should do this" or "that will be fun" instead.

What their "lense" is. This is more of an ethic aspect of the character. What have they learn it's okay, and what do they find uncomfortable? Would they find it gross if their friend left laundry on the floor?

Give them special traits (both for dialogue and narration). Maybe character A quotes a lot when they narrate and uses long paragraphs, or maybe B speaks about their past a lot and uses popular sayings. Personally, one character of mine has the tendency to repeat himself when he speaks, as in "yeah, yeah, I'll do it" or "no, no, no. Never" because he is really enthusiastic, and it fits really well with his character.

Pay attention to how they would talk about themselves. Maybe your character doesn't like people to know they're sad because it makes them feel vulnerable, so they will just say they feel annoyed or don't want to talk in that moment. This also means that they will not tell the reader something they are not comfortable saying in the first place.

How is their education? Education is also very important in this context. Did they went to university and have a rich vocabulary and structured sentences, or where they rised in a little farm far from town? You can also play with both a bit: maybe your character did go to university, but maybe they also came from a low income family, and characteristic of both things merge when they talk. Example: long, structured, sentences but a simple and sight forward vocabulary.

That's all for now and happy writing!!

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