#i mean shitty pictures from my phone

[sssaintyboy]

put the does in miitopia slayyyyy

[tyttetardis]

Macbeth Q&A 18th Jan 2024 Part 1

Was lucky enough to get a ticket for the Member's Event at the Donmar Warehouse that took place on the 18th...with the price of the patronages I sure never thought I'd have gotten the chance, but luckily, they also let in some non-members 🥹❤️

The brilliant performance of Macbeth was followed by a very quick cleaning of the stage - thought for sure it would've taken them longer to remove the blood than like 5 minutes - followed by a lovely, little Q&A session.

The Q&A was led by Craig Gilbert (Literary manager) who talked to Annie Grace and Alasdair Macrae (Musicians and part of the acting ensemble) as well as Cush Jumbo and David Tennant.

Anyway, just gonna write down some of the stuff they talked about :) sorry if it's a bit messy! Might be spoilery if you haven't seen it yet but are going to!

To begin with Craig remarked that he didn't think he'd ever seen that many people staying behind for a Q&A before (While I was just wondering why some people even left!? Stressful!).

David introduced himself with "My real name is David "Thane of Paisely" Tennant - while Cush introduced herself with "I´m Cush Jumbo - there's only one of me".

First question was Craig asking them what it was that brought them to the Donmar to do Macbeth - to which David pretty much just replied that 1. It's the Donmar! 2. It's Macbeth! One of the greatest plays of all time in an amazingly intimate space - and that the theatre is famous for its quality of work. So he found it quite hard to think of a reason not to do it!

Cush said she'd worked there before and loves the theatre, how it's so intimate but also a great workspace. Followed by her saying she said yes because David asked her. She talked about how important it was for this play to do it together with the right actor playing opposite you.

David says Max Webster asked him about a year ago if he wanted to do the play - he gave him the dates - and since there weren't any obstacles in the way, David didn't have any excuse not to do it.

He then said that he had slightly avoided Macbeth - there sorta being the assumption that if you're Scottish and has done some Shakespeare plays before you have to do Macbeth. Which he joked was a bit odd since it's not like every Italian has to play Romeo. Then he mentioned that Macbeth is probably a bit more of a jock than he is - that it seemed more like a part for big, burly actors.

Max had laid out his initial ideas to David, a lot of which are in the final production, and David thought he seemed lovely, bright and clever and inventive plus it being the Donmar Warehouse! To which joked that he had last worked there 20 years ago - when he was 8 years old! "It's just one of those spaces" - friendly and epic at the same time where it's such a pleasure to be on the stage.

When Craig asked his next question concerning the sound of the play someone asked him to speak louder as she couldn't hear them - to which David joked that they've gotten so used to whispering. But also said sorry, and that they would!

Alasdair explained a bit about the process of the binaural sound - bit I find it a bit difficult to decipher it all correctly, sorry. He did say that a interesting part of it is that it allows them a controlled environment where they can put all the musicians (and even the bagpipes!) behind the soundproof box so "Poor David and Cush" doesn't have to shout over all the racket.

Craig asked David and Cush what their reaction was when they heard about the concept of the binaural soundscape - to which David replied that it didn't quite exist when they first came onboard - Cush joking they were tricked into it. Then she talked about her and David going on a workshop with Max to get a feeling of how it would all work - and get a sense of how it would sound to the audience, as this was one of the few times, they got to hear that side of it. Their experience of the play being completely different to the experience the audience has.

Cush said they can hear some of the sound - like she can hear some of the animal sounds and David can hear some of the stuff from the glass box - but most of their cues and information comes from timing with each other. She said they won't be able to ever hear what the audience hears - to which David joked "We're busy".

It felt like mixing medias - as it all went quite against their natural stagecraft instinct - but Cush found that in the long run it made things very interesting - like they don't have to worry about getting something whispered to each other - as the audience will hear it anyway.

David said the odd thing is that they don't really know what the experience truly is like. He mentioned that to the sides of the stage there's a speaker for them where they will get any cues that they need to hear. Like they can hear the witches - but they can't hear where they are "positioned" - so they have to learn how to place themselves to fit with what the audience hears. They don't hear everything, though. And the audio they hear is quite quiet, so it doesn't disturb what comes through the headphones.

He thinks it's been exciting - that it's a bit like a mix between film and theatre. It's happening live - but it's also like post-production is happening between them and the audience as it's going on. They just have to trust that the audience is hearing what they are supposed to for it all to make sense.

Cush said she thinks in 10 - 20 years, as these technologies has developed, doing theatre like this will feel a lot more normal - not that they will do it ALL the time, but that they will be doing it - whereas now it's still like an experiment. What Cush really like about the concept is that if was done in a much bigger theatre - then people in the cheapest seats would be able to have an experience much more similar to those in the most expensive seats - they'd be a lot more immersed into the action.

David then talks about how it feels extremely counterintuitive to not go on stage and speak loud enough that the people in the back row can also hear you. And usually, if they can't hear you, you aren't doing your job right! But then it felt very liberating. He loves it.

Cush then talked about how it felt odd waiting in the wings for a cue you can't hear - where you traditionally wait backstage and you can hear your cues, you can hear the rythm and know when it's your turn - so it was quite disconcerting to hear silence. So it's basically down to them now knowing the show and each other's timings - like if David is standing at a certain point, she knows how long she has before she needs to say/do something. So you have to watch each other more closely and really focus on what the others are doing.

David asked the musicians if they can hear everything inside the box, to which Annie replied that they get everything except some extra bits in the soundscape. But they can hear the actors on stage. Annie said it's actually a bit of a mystery to all of them what the audience actually experiences - how the big pictures actually look like - they just have to trust that it's there "Is it there?!".

Someone asked if they had had any adverse reactions from audiences to having to wear the headphones. Quite a bit of laughter all around :P then David said "There's the odd person" and something about if someone hadn't gotten the memo before turning up...but not sure how he ended the line. Then once again says that yes, there's the odd person who doesn't like it and that's fair enough.

The same audience member then said he could see the advantage of it in a big theatre where the distance is big, but not in a small place like the Donmar - to which David very quickly, rather passionately replied that it's not about projection, it's about being able to do things you wouldn't normally be able to do live - where they can speak so quietly that they can't even hear each other when standing next to each other. So even in such a small place, people wouldn't be able to hear that. It's about creating a different play - which isn't to everyone's taste and that's fair enough. But for a play that's been done a hundred and seven million times he thinks it's very valid to try and find a new way into the play - even if it's not for everyone.

Part 2

[1d1195]

Honey II

Read Honey here | ~6.2k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, pining, maybe a daddy-kink if you don't blink. There's a shitty guy, some jealous Harry (from said shitty guy as well as NIALL 😍) and some mentions of self-care 😉

Summary: You cannot flirt with my nanny. He texted Niall while Cece ate.

Someone should, Harry. By all means YOU should. But I’ll handle it if you cannot.

Harry scowled and threw his phone aside. “Sorry m’gonna kill Uncle Niall, Cece,” he told her. “But he’s stupid.”

The routine became easy. Breakfast with Harry, tummy time with Cece, cleaning during naptime, laundry at lunch time. At eleven in the morning, she sent Harry three pictures of his baby regardless of what she was doing which he didn’t respond to other than reacting with a heart to each of the pictures.

Cece loved Miss Honey. Her smile was bright when she saw her and her giggle was coming easier and easier while she played with her.

Niall is stopping by to grab something I left. He was already out. You can let him in.

Okay, thank you for the heads up.

Other than delivery drivers, people didn’t really come by. She hadn’t had friends over not that she necessarily wanted to have them over... not after her first family. From then, it was always kind of weird to have people visit someone else’s home to hang out with her. She preferred dinners or going to their houses. If Harry were to throw a party or cookout at his extravagant pool, she would invite her friends—at least that’s what she did with her previous family—but Harry didn’t seem much like a party-thrower.

“Hello?” The Irish voice sang into the house. “Miss Cece, where are you?” He called.

She smiled and brought the baby toward the front door holding her in front of her stomach. Cece giggled at the sight of Uncle Niall. “Who’s that, Cece?” She asked pressing her lips on to the top of her soft hair. “Is that Uncle Niall? Did Uncle Niall come to see you?” She kicked her feet and Niall looked like he was melting as he took her from Miss Honey. “Is it this folder?” She asked. “I found it in the garage,” she said. “It must have slipped out of his bag. When I took Cece to the store, I was going to swing by myself."

Niall was in awe. The house was clean—to be fair, it almost always was, but it was different now. Plus it smelled like the citrusy fall candle she was burning on the counter; only adding to the fresh clean feeling of his friend’s place. Whatever was cooking in the oven smelled delicious. “Do you... cook for him?” Niall asked.

She blushed. “Well, it’s mainly for me, but obviously there aren’t a ton of recipes for one person, so I always have extra,” she rationalized. “I cooked for my old family.”

Niall bounced Cece as he looked around. There was a throw blanket on the sofa adorned with leaves and it’s fall y’all patterned across it. that wasn’t there before. Along with some fall pillows. It matched the little pumpkins on the side tables and the leaf and flower centerpiece on the coffee table. Harry had decorations? “Did Harry buy those throw pillows?”

“I... I have this tendency to fall asleep on the sofa watching movies and wanted something softer than the sofa arm,” she felt weird explaining all this to Niall. “I should probably get them out of here and back in my room. Did Harry say something? He doesn’t like it?”

Harry hadn’t mentioned it. Which was insane because when Cece’s mom wanted all new living room furniture in the middle of her pregnancy, Niall wasn’t sure Harry was going to let her live at his house after all. Harry was very particular and liked things to be his way. “No, no. He’s fine. It just looks...cozy,” he said. “It’s nice he’s got a woman’s touch that he likes,” Niall said encouragingly.

Her phone vibrated on the counter and she glanced at her watch reading the message. Can you tell Niall to let go of my daughter and get his ass back here before I fire him?

She smiled sending a thumbs up in response. “I believe you’re going to be fired.”

“What a drama queen,” Niall muttered. “I love you more than Dada does,” he cooed and kissed Cece sweetly on the cheek. “You should decorate the outside, too,” Niall said as he handed the baby back to her. “Harry would like it,” he smiled. “If you have a ton of leftovers, send them for lunch with Harry tomorrow. With the way it smells, I bet it would taste delicious reheated as well... Bye Cece!” He waved and blew a kiss at her.

“Say bye Uncle Niall,” she cooed shaking her head at Harry’s best friend.  She waved Cece’s hand for her. “Bye Uncle Niall.”

*

His office door slapped open against the wall, and he looked up from his desk even though he didn’t need to.

“Niall’s here,” his secretary called. He rolled his eyes.

“You love her,” Niall gushed.

“I do not,” Harry scowled defensively at his paperwork in front of him. “Love who?”

“Your nanny obviously.”

“I absolutely do not,” he shook his head. “I am not in love with someone I employ.”

“So we’re not in love either?” Niall frowned.

“Do you have something you need, Mr. Horan?” Harry deadpanned.

Niall rolled his eyes. “Harry, she’s sweet, funny, and intelligent,” he listed. “Not to mention your house has never looked cleaner nor cozier and she can cook.”

Harry used to order out each night since he was too tired to cook when he got home. Then with Cece, it made even more sense. But now, since he was very much glued to his schedule of coming home on time for dinner so he could see Cece before bed and relieve Miss Honey of her duties for the evening.

He hadn’t anticipated her making dinner for him. In fact, he hadn’t anticipated much of anything she did for him. He thought taking care of Cece was going to be it. The cleaning and cooking was beyond what he expected.

He ignored Niall.

“And hello? She’s good with Cece.”

She was great with Cece actually. But he wasn’t going to give into Niall’s teasing. He continued looking at his computer screen ignoring all the reasons Harry thought she was perfect as well but had to ignore because he would rather die than ruin what he had with her for the sake of his daughter. There was no one better to trust Cece with—even after a month or so of her working, it was obvious. He was so sure there wasn’t anyone better. “Also, she was going in the pool when I got there, so she was in this itty, bitty bikini—” Harry’s gaze snapped to Niall and his eye twitched as he scowled again. “I was joking, but I think I’ve proven my point.”

“I’m not in love,” he grumbled. Harry didn’t love anyone beyond his baby girl, his company, and his family.

“Say it all you want. But I’m not the one that got his underwear in a twist over the thought of seeing her in a bikini when it’s not summer anymore." Harry ignored him still. "You let her decorate," he reminded him.

"We have similar tastes," Harry mumbled not wanting to let on that he didn't give two shits if the house was decorated but when he came home from work watching her sip hot apple cider on his sofa and reading a book to Cece, he wanted to move to a place where it was fall all year round.

"Are you going to let her decorate the outside of your house for Halloween?”

He was not in love. “It’s a holiday,” he reminded Niall. “I want Cece t'have a—”

“Uh-huh. Sure. It’s definitely for Cece... by the way, make sure I get the leftovers from dinner tomorrow. I already asked Miss Honey,” he said. “Here’s your folder,” he laid it on his desk and left with a wave and mischievous smile. "She found it in the garage and was going to swing by herself. Because in case you haven't noticed, she's perfect."

If there were leftovers of whatever delicious thing she had decided to cook, Harry was going to throw them in the middle of the road on his way to work just to spite him.

*

The weekend was unfortunately eventful.

Cece fussed a ton. Harry sighed when the monitor alerted him to her waking. He got up and headed to her crib where he spent several minutes rubbing her little belly as he watched her. “Y’need t’sleep, Miss Cecelia,” he smiled at her tiredly. It was nearly one in the morning, and he had been fortunate enough to have Cece sleeping soundly overall for the last couple months. But for whatever reason, her little cries woke him up today.

He checked his phone and noted there was an alert from the front door camera. He saw two people standing under the entrance. His favorite nanny and a man that he didn’t recognize.

Given the situation, this was suddenly and very much her house as much as Harry's. As evident by the pumpkin décor on the steps visible in the video as well. So she could do what she wanted. Even if that meant going on a date.

Even if that meant Harry was painfully aware of how upset that made him.

Her arms were wrapped around her stomach and Harry felt something painful ache in his stomach. She looked completely uncomfortable. The guy leaned closer toward her, forcing her to step back until she was against the side of the entryway. Harry’s blood boiled. She pressed a hand against his chest, maintaining distance between them. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the screen and briefly noted he forgot about Cece’s waking. But Cece was asleep again. Therefore, Harry was able to worry about the other woman that lived in his house. He quickly sent her a text before he kept his eyes glued to the camera. If this was some kind of flirting thing, fine. He would confront the boiling jealousy in the comfort of his own bed. But Harry had a sister, female friends, female employees and now a daughter. He knew when someone was uncomfortable.

The camera signaled someone was outside, so I checked the feed... Are you okay?

He didn't want to listen in. There was a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross. Fortunately, she pulled her phone from her pocket and read the message--clearly looking for a distraction and further fueling his worry. Without answering, she tucked her phone back in her pocket and Harry thought that he was overreacting. She was fine. He just needed to go to bed.

But then, she shook her head repeatedly, slowly.

Harry dropped his phone on Cece’s floor where it landed on the rug with a quiet thud. He took off downstairs nearly missing the last step before he was at the front door, yanking it out of the way blindingly fast. She jumped at the sudden movement in the middle of the night—even though she only saw Harry’s message seconds before. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he lied. He was very grateful to interrupt. “Cece has been awake, and I’ve tried—”

“No problem,” she rushed out not even glancing at the man. She brushed passed Harry hurriedly.

The guy blinked in surprise at her quick departure. He tried to peek behind Harry’s frame that blocked most of his view. “I’ll call—”

Harry smacked the door shut and waited for him to leave—watched him walk to the end of the driveway where he waited for an Uber for three minutes. She sighed, putting her hands on the back of her head, breathing heavily. “Harry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She began pacing behind him, but Harry’s eyes didn’t move from the end of his driveway. “He was completely fine and then I needed to Uber and—”

“I told you not t’Uber,” he scowled at the window beside the door waiting for the man to disappear.

“Well, it was one in the morning, and I don’t know how your driver situation works—”

“Then you call me,” his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be. The thought of something happening to her hurt. Hurt a lot.

She ignored him, feeling guilty but trying to explain her side of things. “My friend had left with a guy she met, and she was my ride. I didn’t even know she left,” her voice cracked. “I Uber all the time, Harry. Alone at night, I don’t care...it’s... whatever... But he was insistent. He wanted to make sure I made it home safely. Which didn’t set off any alarm bells and I pride myself on having a good gauge of that kind of thing. So, I didn’t think anything of it. I thought he was just being a gentleman. When he got out of the car and the driver took off...” she shook her head. “I’m just so sorry. I didn’t know—” Her voice cracked again, harsher this time. Then she pressed her lips into a line as she looked down. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered trying to force the tears to stay behind her lids.

The man was gone from the edge of his driveway. Harry shook his head confused how she could be apologizing for literally nothing. She didn’t do anything wrong. “What are y’apologizing for?”

“For him coming back here! I don’t bring people back to the house I’m living in for free. I would never want to put someone like that within a three-mile radius of Cece. I was just trying to get him to leave and I—” her voice choked off again.

“Love,” he said gently. “S’okay,” he promised reassuringly. “Y’can invite friends over. I wouldn’t really want him, but it sounds like we’re on the same page.”

She sniffled, breaking Harry’s heart. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

“Did he hurt you?” Harry asked. She shook her head. “I need a verbal answer, love.”

“No, he didn’t hurt me,” she whispered. Barely loud enough for him to hear.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded. “I was just trying to think of a way to get inside without him following me,” she whimpered. “He just wouldn’t shut up about how nice it would be to...” her tears started to flow. She shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.

Harry didn’t think. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed up and down her back. “S’okay,” he promised. “You’re okay,” he repeated. “You could have banged on the door or something,” he assured her.

She sniffled. “I didn’t want to wake the baby.”

He smiled softly. Of course she didn’t. “Please call the driver next time. Day or night. I should’ve told y’that,” he murmured. “It would make me feel better. And he’ll only let y’have someone else in the car with you if y’say so,” he promised.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“You’re allowed t’have a life here, love,” he promised. “Friends, dates, whatever y’want.”

“Well, I’m not dating for a while,” that was fine by Harry. Gently, she pulled from Harry’s embrace, and he felt completely cold. It wasn’t from his lack of clothes either.

She wiped her eyes. “Do y’want me to...get y’anything?” He asked.

She shook her head of the thought. “No, I’m sorry to have interrupted your sleep—”

“Don’t be. But y’didn’t. Cece was up, I was checking on her when I saw m’phone’s notification,” he explained. “But even if she wasn’t up... I wouldn’t have minded,” he promised. “Really.”

Her eyes trailed over Harry’s body. It hadn’t occurred to her that he was wearing nothing but boxers. His shoulders were broad, his arms were taut with lean muscles that didn’t bulge massively but were still beautifully sculpted. His hair was in disarray, probably from his pillow. His stomach was flat, ridged with muscles, and covered with tattoos. “I didn’t realize you had so many tattoos.”

He smirked. “Yeah, um...guilty pleasure of mine.”

Harry really shouldn’t say pleasure around her. It made her think of things that would give her immense pleasure. Like the boxers that outlined a plump dick (which wasn’t even fully hard it seemed. Jesus Christ, she wondered if she was going to get pregnant just from looking at it) and showed off his muscular thighs. She shook her head trying to keep her eyes focused on anything other than Harry’s groin area. “I um... thank you,” she whispered. “For getting me.”

“Of course, love. Any time,” he promised. “I know y’work for me and I respect your commitment and seriousness t’your job. It’s something I value in m’employees at the office too. But Niall also works with me too and he’s m’best friend and he’s very comfortable asking me t’bail him out of dicey situations. So if y’need something, y’jus’ have t’ask.”

She nodded. “Okay... thank you,” she repeated. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Miss Honey.”

*

Harry was frustrated. It was a busy time of year, so he had been staying an hour, sometimes two later than he was supposed to. He ate reheated food that she had cooked (which was still delicious) but mostly he was upset because he wasn’t getting to see Cece before bed. The pictures she sent in the afternoon and just before bed helped but didn’t make up for the real thing. He missed his daughter.

And honestly? If he was real with himself, he missed eating dinner with the pretty woman that was kind enough to make dinner in the first place. He missed watching an episode of whatever show she liked before she went for a swim in the pool and then to read in her room. Up until Harry had started staying late, she had gone for a swim every night and Harry was in awe. The pool was heated sure, but the air was cold. But she was insistent—all to get her laps in so she could work out. Now, when he got home, she was already in her room. Only coming out to say hello, give the lowdown on bedtime and making sure he knew which food was for Niall the next morning.

It seemed she wasn’t dating, so at least Harry had that. Even though he told her she could, he was glad she wasn't. It wasn’t right or fair of him to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. The few times he saw her out in the pool in a bathing suit (that was not an itty-bitty bikini like Niall had described) he felt possessive. If she had an itty-bitty bikini, Harry thought he might lose his mind--the pretty one piece with a cutout created by a crisscrossing bow around her middle was tantalizing enough. He didn’t let his gaze linger for long (he didn’t want to be creepy) but he thought back to the guy that followed her home and terrified her. No one deserved her kindness. No one deserved to see her vulnerable and alone in anything less than what she wanted. She made Cece feel safe. She made Harry feel safe.

“Why don’t you go home?” Niall suggested. “You’ve been staying late all week, and I know you miss Cece. Take a half day, go spend some time with your daughter. Or even Miss Honey,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Harry shook his head. “I already took a ton of time off—”

“For a very good reason! Harry,” Niall sighed. “You have an adorable baby daughter. She’s only going to be little for so long. You need to enjoy it.”

With that thought, Harry couldn’t get out of his office fast enough. He entered the house using the keycode. It didn’t even faze her. If someone used the code, then she assumed it was someone who was allowed to be there. But also, the sound of the vacuum cleaner was humming and creating more noise than she could have heard with the door opening and closing. But she must have sensed it because she glanced over her shoulder and smiled finishing the spot she was working on. Harry could make out the wrap around her body while she vacuumed. Wearing Cece like a body ornament. It was adorable. “I could hire someone for that, y’know,” he called over the droning noise.

She turned the vacuum off and turned around showing off the little babe at the same time. She kicked her feet. Harry thought his heartstrings were going to snap with how much love flooded him. Someone that loved him so unconditionally. It felt like he didn’t deserve it.

“You’re home early,” she smiled and loosened the wrap around her and pulled the headphones off her little head to keep her ears safe from the vacuum sound. “Is Dada home to play, Cece?” She smiled excitedly. “Is Dada here to play?” She repeated, passing her to Harry. Cece immediately settled into his embrace, making his heart hurt. Niall was right, this was well worth it.

“I was just going to do laundry,” she said. “Do you want anything to eat?” She asked.

“I have people who could do your laundry,” he told her, his lips attached to the crown of Cece’s head. “And y’don’t need t’do my laundry either,” he frowned. “Or Cece’s.”

“Yes, but you are saving money by letting me do it. I’m all about coupons. I’m like a BOGO sale, you know? For a business owner, you don’t see a good deal when presented.”

He rolled his eyes. Niall listed a lot of great qualities about her. But he didn’t list how stubborn she was. Especially when it came to things like using the driver or doing his laundry. Harry wanted to shake her sometimes.

“Niall said you have a business trip next weekend?”

His eyes snapped to meet hers. “You talk to Niall?” Like regularly? Casually?

He was so going to fire him.

“Yes,” she smiled and then laughed to herself, a private joke Harry wasn't privy to.

“What?”

“It’s nothing. Niall’s just funny.”

Harry was going to kill him. Then fire him.

“Oh?”

“He just he tells me he’s going to marry me if I keep making such good food for him to eat.”

So fired.

“Speaking of,” she continued while Harry let that linger in silence. “Little miss needs to eat,” she said. “I can do it if you want—”

“Thank you,” he was sincerely appreciative. “But I have it covered,” he smiled. “You can take the rest of the afternoon to yourself if you’d like.”

She smiled. “That would be great. I just have a few more things to do but I’ve been dying to go to the bookstore. They’re having a sale on all paperbacks,” her eyes glowed.

Harry smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

“Just shout if you need something.”

Harry went to the kitchen, took the bottle that was warmed and ready on the counter (she must have just put it out while she was vacuuming nearby).

You cannot flirt with my nanny. He texted Niall while Cece drank from her bottle.

Someone should, Harry. By all means YOU should. But I’ll handle it if you cannot.

Harry scowled and threw his phone aside at the pretty fall throw pillows. “Sorry m’gonna kill Uncle Niall, Cece,” he told her. “But he’s stupid.”

*

Harry often found himself defaulting to her and all her knowledge. She had a background in psychology, as that was what she studied in college—a concentration in child development. All of which he knew from her application. Harry was well educated, but he would never feign to have more knowledge that he didn’t have.

Which is why when Cece continued to fuss and fuss more than she had since she’d been born, Harry didn’t know what to do.

“Love?” He knocked on the door. It was two in the morning, and she was obviously well off the clock. Harry battled for several minutes trying to decide if it was worth it. He didn't want to bother her, but frankly, he was exhausted. But she answered anyway, hurriedly.

She was wearing a pair of leggings and a blue tank top. One that was thin and made Harry’s stomach ache with desire. Something lower ached with desire too. But fortunately, he had enough foresight to put on a pair of sweats before waking her. She rubbed her eye looking like a toddler coming to their parents’ bedroom. Her hair tie had fallen from her braid letting the strands fall haphazardly out of the twist.

He thought about kissing her. God he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be alone in the middle of the night with her.

Gratefully, Cece called out. Reminding him of why he had woken her up in the first place.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can you check on her? She’s so fussy. I don’t know if m’doing something wrong?” It killed him that the baby was fussing. He hated to wake her almost as much. However, she didn’t even bat an eye to it and hurried to Cece’s room. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Don’t be,” she yawned. “I was... actually reading,” she smiled. “I shouldn’t be, but I can’t put the book down.”

How was that so hot sounding? It shouldn’t have been. He had watched her read on the couch a hundred times. But it was hot. So hot he was glad there was an extra layer to hide how it made him feel.

Harry was glad he was going away for the weekend. He needed to clear his head of the pretty girl that was invading his every thought when he had no right to think of her that way. “Oh yeah, Miss Cece just wants to party, huh, sweet girl?” She smiled and pulled her from the crib and hummed. “Daddy has to work early tomorrow, Cece. can have our own party tomorrow, okay? But Daddy’s got to sleep,” she whispered. “I know you’re a party girl,” she cooed. “But you can’t party when you’re sleepy,” she reminded her.

Harry was not thinking of it like that but the way she said Daddy (twice) made his chest ache with something he wasn’t used to feeling. It probably didn’t help that her tank top did little to hide two hardened, protruding bumps on her chest that made Harry want to lick his lips (and her). He was going to turn the heat up before bed because it must have been chilly.

Harry tried to keep his gaze PG, but she was so pretty, he was thanking himself for the moment of clarity he had that made him put on pants because he wouldn’t be able to hide the way he felt about seeing her sleepy and beautiful.

Fuck Niall and his stupid observations. He is so fired when I get back from my trip.

After a few more hums and coos, Cece fell back to sleep. She kissed her hair and gently laid her back in the crib. “She’s almost four months, of course—she might be hitting a little sleep regression. It’s perfectly normal. I’ll do some research and see what I can do to help alleviate—”

“Thank you,” he felt exhausted. Sleep deprived and sad about leaving—even if it was just for the weekend. “Seriously. Thank you.”

She smiled. “Of course, Harry. That’s what I’m here for. Probably a good time to stop my book too,” she reached out and squeezed his arm. “Get some sleep. I’ll have breakfast in the morning before you fly out,” she promised.

“I didn't mean t'interrupt your book,” he said softly. “Y'don’t have t'get up earlier, she can lay in bed for a bit,” he offered.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’ll just nap when she naps,” she shrugged. "Cece will want to see you before you leave," she smiled so effortlessly. Like Cece would really know if he was gone. But the way she said it made him believe it. She squeezed Harry's forearm. “Goodnight, Harry,” she said sweetly.

*

Harry was staring at Cece like she was going to disappear while he fed her. She gently pushed the cup of tea she made him (with three sugars) in front of him. “I haven’t left her once for this long,” Harry reminded her.

“I know,” she frowned. “She’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“I know.”

“Really, Harry. I won’t let anything happen to her. I love her beyond belief,” she promised.

But Harry felt something creep into his stomach. Something that felt like an overwhelming urge to kiss her. A way that had him aching to make Cece a sibling and he thought that maybe he could shift the real estate in his heart that was reserved for his company and open it for someone else. He shook his head as if a bug had flown in his eye. Ridding himself of the unrealistic thought that was wriggling it's way into ever inch of his mind.

No, he didn’t love her.

That would be ridiculous.

It took her two weeks to figure out what Harry liked to eat for breakfast most. As stubborn as Harry was, she was more so. Every day she made something new: omelets, waffles, French toast, everything he could think of, she tried. But when she told him she was going to make crepes, he stopped her and told her: just scrambled eggs and toast.

So, she made him scrambled eggs, toast, and sliced up some avocado on the side. “Thank you, love. Y'really didn’t need to.”

“I have it on good authority you rarely eat until like two in the afternoon if I don’t feed you,” she smiled. “Happy to help,” she promised. Because that’s what she did. Helped and helped and helped.

“Why don’t y’tell your friend m’going t’fire him if y’don’t stop talking t’him.”

She laughed and Harry enjoyed the sound more than he thought possible. “Niall?! Shouldn’t you fire me?”

He shook his head. “No way, love. You’re the best there is for Cece, you’re stuck here,” he smirked. Her heart fluttered and she realized she hadn’t spoken as Harry glanced at her. He cleared his throat. “I mean... as long as you like it here,” he attempted to recover (poorly).

“I love it here,” she nodded excitedly. That beautiful smile that Harry had honed in on during her interview spread across her beautiful face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you,” he smiled. Genuinely.

It took every ounce of Harry’s shaky control to keep himself from saying he would miss her too, while he was gone. Maybe as much as he would miss Cece.

*

It was only a two-night stay. But the first night was hardest. He called as soon as his last meeting finished. He watched her play with Cece through the video call. When her phone died, it took five minutes for her to get rebooted. She grabbed her laptop to continue the call and set it up on the floor for Harry to see Cece during her tummy time.

Cece didn’t seem to notice much that Harry was on the computer screen. In fact, she didn’t pay much attention to either of them while they chatted at all. Even when Cece fell asleep, he found himself asking her all kinds of questions about school and work. How she decided to become a nanny and the like. He asked about her family and if she missed them. Her family was still hours and hours away from her, so he was confused as to why she wouldn’t move with the previous family she nannied for.

“Truthfully?” She sighed. “I love this coast so much,” she smiled fondly. “I grew up here and I went to school here. I loved my nanny family, but there’s just something about it here,” she explained. “My family kind of... they don't..." she sighed. "They don't visit much and I think they would come up to visit even less if I lived across the country. I adore my family. They mean so much to me. It would have been hard to be even further away from them.”

Harry wanted to hold her and never let go. This woman loved hard. Harder than anyone he knew.

Eventually, when it was so much later than it should have been to be chatting on the phone with someone he was employing to take care of his daughter, without talking about said daughter, Harry said goodnight and got ready for bed. As he brushed his teeth, he opened his text messages.

Niall...

Yes, Harry? It’s eleven and I’m in bed.

... she’s perfect.

Who Cece?

...

No shit, Harry. You’re an idiot.

When Harry closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but think of her.

*

When Harry returned home, he rushed through the door, dropping his bags and hurrying to the living room. Harry was on the floor beside the coffee table where he showered Cece in kisses all over her little face. The only pause he had was looking at the lovely girl giggling on the couch at their reunion. “Ugh, Cece, you’re making me jealous! I wish someone would be that happy to see me when they get home,” she giggled.

But Harry couldn’t let her think that for a moment longer. He crossed the room, pulled the book from her hands and straddled her, locking her in place. He cupped her face before she could question anything and kissed her. Kissed her long and hard. Eventually he nestled his hips between her thighs. “I like you so much. I’m so happy t’see you when I get home,” he groaned peppering her face and skin with more kisses. “I trust you with everything. You have my whole world most of the day. And... when I get home m’so happy t'see Cece. But love, m’thrilled t'see you as well”

“Harry,” she whispered. “She’s right there."

“She's not looking,” his voice was husky as he pulled on the neck of the blue tank top that stared in all his dreams. He tugged it down her chest a bit hoping to see those pretty, hardened—

The phone call waking him up for the day put him nearly in a cold sweat. “Ugh,” he moaned reaching blindly for the nightstand for the phone. He pulled the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He grumbled.

“Hello, Mr. Styles this is your wake-up cal—”

He smacked the phone back into the receiver and begged for the dream to come back before it went away. What was underneath that tank top? He glanced at the clock. If he fucked his hand, he wouldn’t have time to shave. That wasn’t very business owner of him. Or maybe it was. He was CEO, the meetings wouldn’t start without him.

“Fuck it,” he muttered and wrapped his hand around his hard dick. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but he pretended he knew what was hiding beneath the thin tank top of the woman who lived in his house.

*

The weather fucked him royally. He was supposed to be home that evening. Supposed to be eating dinner with his little baby and the pretty nanny. It felt completely unfair that the weather had made it so he would be stuck in a stupid airport, and he would have to go directly to work in the morning.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she promised. “Maybe you can take the day off later in the week,” she suggested. “Actually... I was going to ask you if it was possible for you to do that anyway, so maybe this works out. Or maybe your mom—” He knew she was trying to distract him. Which he was grateful for but he was still so frustrated.

"What do y'need?" He asked, his voice stiff. He didn't mean for it to be. He was just upset.

She cleared her throat. “I just have some appointments I’ve been rescheduling over and over trying to find a day that's best for them. I don’t want to make you take the day off, but I know you’ve been nervous about your trip. I’ve been waiting—”

“Of course,” he said hurriedly. “Which day?”

“Wednesday, if possible. If not I can reschedule again.”

“Sure,” he’d take the whole week off if she asked. Cece time and helping the perfect angel? She didn’t need to say anything else.

“Thank you, Harry," the gratitude in her voice made him ache.

“You’ve worked nonstop for almost two months, love. Y’do more than I ever expected. S’least I could do. Plus, staying home with m’daughter isn’t a bad thing.”

She smiled. “She misses you,” she promised. Harry was pretty sure Cece wouldn’t know if he was away or not; work or overnight stay irrelevant. But it was nice she was saying it for his benefit. “She does, I swear,” she continued, somehow understanding his silence. “Especially at bedtime and when she wakes up. Little Miss doesn’t sleep well without you here,” she cooed. Harry imagined her holding the baby on his couch looking utterly comfortable and natural.

“Well tell her I miss her, love her, and kiss her for me too.”

She pressed a bunch of kisses to her skin loud enough for Harry to hear and that soft little giggle as well. Harry smiled, feeling marginally better about his cancelled flight. “See you tomorrow, love.”

“Can you say, bye bye Daddy,” she whispered. “Come on you can do it,” she encouraged. It was much too early and of course she knew that, but Harry loved that she tried anyway.

He wanted to tell Cece to give her a kiss from him as well.

--

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[jojissalsa]

husband!leon drabble

hear me out, cause i have an idea :3 (yes this is a drabble but also kinda long...)

cw: housewife kink, very slight condescension, praise, oral, breeding kink, ya get the gist. (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)

i cannot get my mind off husband!leon, like... at all, i feel like he'd love to pamper you. you need your hair trimmed? when and where. going somewhere special? he'll immediately take you shopping. his favorite is when you wanna get your nails done, he'll just hand you that sleek black credit card. i mean, it's not like he doesn't have the money. he has to deal with the worst horrors this shitty world could conjure up, so all he wants at the end of the day is to see your pretty smile.

it's all he can think about at work. everyone notices how distracted he seems, constantly checking his phone for possible pictures or any kind of update. he's so glad he doesn't have much work to do that day, so he can be home before you. and when you finally unlock the door he has to stop himself from running to you like an excited dog happy to see his owner.

and you know he's excited, as much as he tries to hide it as you walk over to the couch where he's sitting, plopping down right next to him and nuzzling into his side. "you like 'em?" you hold out your hand, a smug smirk on your face as he takes your hand. "it's pretty.." he whispers in awe, a loving expression on your face. usually he's the type to wanna lay on your chest, having your nails graze his scalp so he can finally relax. he knows you love it too, like he's a big lap dog you can watch movies with.

he feels a lil different tonight though, maybe he's just pent up, but all he can think about is your pretty, delicate hand wrapped around his cock, your lipstick smeared around your mouth and making rings on the length of his cock. and you know he's thinking about something, because he moves his hand up yours before grabbing your wrist and pressing your palm against his cock.

"feel that? that's what you do to me, so damn sweet. you and that needy cunt is all i can think about. c'mere, wanna see those pretty hands jerk me off." you don't waste any time moving your head into his lap as he pulls down his sweats, your hands finding their place at the base of his cock and cupping his balls, your tongue already lapping at his tip, savoring the taste of his pre-cum. he looks so fucking hot like this, legs spread, arm resting on the back of the couch while his hand moves down your back and under your leggings, determined to feel more of you. you're always such a good girl when you sink your mouth lower on his cock, tip hitting the back of your throat which makes his hips buck and his head tilt back as he groans.

"i got so lucky, pretty wife that knows how to suck dick. so eager for me to touch you, huh? need my fingers to fill up that tight pussy, don't you, honey? can't answer with a mouthful of cock, can you?" leon can never help himself, he has to be a little smug, because he landed such a hot piece of ass and he's more than confident about you belonging to him completely. how you stop everything you're doing to please him. how can he not pay back the favor? he pulls your leggings down to your thighs along with your panties, coating his fingers in your slick before slipping his fingers inside your welcoming pussy. you clench around his thick fingers when you feel the cold metal of his wedding band, and it only makes him smile wider.

like i said, he really does love to pamper you. make you feel pretty all the time, because you are. you may not think you are all the time, but he sure as shit does. pretty enough to carry his baby, too. "such a pretty girl, you'd look even more beautiful with my baby inside you." you whimper around his cock, pulling your head up to stroke him so you can catch your breath. "like that one, hmm? you always walk around looking like a fucking milf, so damn sexy with those tight jeans and cute heels i buy for you." you knew he was a family man, wanted at least two kids, but damn he did not have to make the idea sound that fucking hot.

and you let him, he could give you a whole bloodline and you'd do it with a smile. letting him fuck his huge load of cum into your tight cunt, those pretty nails digging into his back as your legs keep him pumping his cum inside you. "atta girl, can't wait to see that pregnancy test. gonna keep you here and take good care of you, promise." he lets you come back down to reality as he leans up, getting a good view of your blissed out smile, humming contently as you look up at him. "you won't have to lift a single finger with me around, trust me."

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Isagi Yoichi being a nervous wreck for your guys first date.

He doesn't even know how he managed to get you to say yes to his shitty proposal. It all went wrong, but, as always, you made the wrong seem right and did the unthinkable: you agreed to going on a date with him.

This date needed to go perfectly. He can't mess this opportunity up. You were going to see how he's the perfect boyfriend for you, both gentle and funny, and accept his "proposal" when he asked the awaited question: "Do you want to be my girlfriend?".

I mean, c'mon, going on a date with a girl can't be that hard, right...? Well, for Isagi it sure was. Because it wasn't just a girl. It was you. And that thought alone made him feel like he might faint on the spot.

And so, the week preceding your date with him, Yoichi is planning everything meticulously. He needed every help he could get.

And who is better to help him than his friends?

7 days before the date.

"No, no!" Isagi screamed "She wouldn't act like that! You're not helping at all, Nagi."

"I wanna sleep." Seishiro said, removing the phone that he was holding in front of his face with your picture on it "Why does it have to be with me and in my room? Can't you practice in front of a mirror or something?"

"It doesn't feel the same!" Isagi huffed, running his hands through his hair "Just one more time. Remember, I helped you hide from Barou when he chased after you for wetting the bed with your hair, and you said you owned me one. Therefore, you're repaying me and can't run away from this."

"Okay then" Nagi snored, and put the phone with your photo in front of his face again

"Try to get her personality right this time" Isagi rolled his eyes and grabbed the paper with his speech. The moment he looked at your face, he blushed hard. Boy, he was so head over heels for you it was almost ridiculous. "Hey! How are you today? Hope you're doing fine!" Okay, great start. I didn't stutter. This is going to be perfect.

"Hello Yoichi-kun. I'm fine, thank you for asking. How about you." Nagi said monotonously while reading his own paper with the phrases he was supposed to say. It was actually kinda funny how he said this without any emotion.

"I was doing well, but I'm feeling e-even better now that you're here!" Yoichi said and shot Nagi finger guns while showing a strained smile. "So, where do you wanna sit--"

"Nagi! I bought you some lemon tea!!--"

"REO! KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING." Isagi said while his cheeks burned with a red so bright you could amost see smoke coming out his ears.

"Isagi. What the actual fuck--"

6 days before the date.

"I'm surprised you even decided to help me" Yoichi said while looking at a menu

"It's out of pity" Reo, who was sitting in front of him, said "You are helpless. But I'm gonna help you make her have the best date of her life" he smirked

Doing a signal with his hands, Reo called his driver, who parked the car right in front of their table.

"Okay. Now, get into the car."

"Uh... where are we going?? I thought you told me to meet you here so we could practice how I would act."

"And that's exactly what we're gonna do. Just get into the car, don't you trust me?"

'No I don't' Isagi thought, but he didn't say anything. He stepped into the car, obtaining a smirk from Reo, who also entered the vehicle.

"See, that wasn't that hard, was it?" His smirk widened, but soon disappeared when Mikage put on a serious face "Now, pretend I'm her. Here's the situation: we just got to the place of the date and we're about to leave the car. What do you do?"

"I... open the car door, get out and close it right after."

"Wrong. You open the car door, get out, hold it for her so she can also exit and then close it. Geez, this is going to be harder than I thought." Reo sighed "Now, let's practice. Do what I just told you"

Isagi nodded. He then opened the door, got out of the car and held it open so Reo could also exit.

Just when he thought it was all going well, a bee landed on his nose. Desperate to scare the insect, he started to shake his hands in front of his nose

"Shoo! Shoo!"

"OUCH!"

"Oh shit." The same hand he was using to scare the bee away was also the hand he was previously using to hold the car door. And his hand couldn't do 2 things at the same time. So, when he released the door, it strongly hit Reo's face.

"Shit. Reo, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, but it's not because of me" Reo made an angry face while rubbing his forehead "I'm sorry for your date. Let's try again. Do it properly this time."

With a sigh, Isagi entered the car again.

5 days before the date.

"I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I need your help, Otoya." Yoichi said and swallowed hard, knowing that his next words would be a punch to his ego, but it needed to be done. "I'm a disaster! When I was training with Reo, I spilled coffe on him, the car door hit his face and I made him fall when I pulled the chair so he could sit on it. And I know you talk to a lot of girls, so you must know what to do."

"You came to the right place, dude." Otoya smirked and held open his shared dorm's door "Fear not, me and Tabito are going to help you get that girl."

Okay. When he said they'd "help him make you fall for him", he didn't imagine it meant watching Otoya flirting with Karasu wearing a wig for 10 minutes straight.

"Did you take notes?" Eita asked

"Yeah, I did" Isagi bashfully answered while holding up the little notebook he had in hand, which was full of notes about Otoya's advices on how to "step up his game".

"Okay, now it's your turn." The ninja said, seating down

"W-what? I didn't know I would also have to flirt with Karasu"

"It's for practice only! And you just have to pretend it's not me" Tabito answered, and then made a high pitched voice "I'm the girl you like!" He battered his eyelashes and put his hands together.

"S-sure..." Yoichi said, getting up "Okay so... uhm... how do I start?"

"Tell her a pick up line"

"Any?"

"Any."

"...do you play soccer? Cause you're a keeper." followed by finger guns.

The silence in the room was almost papable. Otoya and Karasu exchanged looks. Isagi was sweating. Karasu and Otoya locked gazes again. And then all of a sudden...

They began to laugh. Hard.

"Oh shit..." Karasu said, wiping away a tear from his eyes "This was so bad!"

"I know, right?" Otoya agreed "He did the finger guns and all that"

"W-what?! Was it that bad??"

"The worst I've ever seen. I wish i had recorded it"

"Nah, don't worry. I did, it's right here."

"KARASU, DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW."

4 day before the date

"Okay..." Chigiri said, analysing Isagi's hair "Based on the shape of your head, we could do a buzzcut. Ladies like it."

"You're sure you know how to cut people's hair right?" Isagi asked nervously

"Yeah I do. Just sit back, relax and let me do my thing"

With a sigh, Isagi sat down on a chair in his room, patting his pants with his hands

"It's just that this week has been absolute hell for me! I screw everything up everytime I try to practice for my date! The way things are going, she's going to hate it! I'm actually so scared right now you have no idea"

"I didn't remember telling you I could be your therapist" Chigiri smirked (what's with his friends always smirking at him??) "But if I coukd give my input in this, I'd say you just need to be yourself. Don't try to change. You're a nice guy, I'm sure she'll like the date"

"That... actually helped. Thank you Chigiri."

"You're welcome."

Wow. Things were going great for once. Nothing bad had happened! Maybe it meant that his luck was back, and the date was going to actually go as planeed!

"Uhm... Chigiri. There's hair in my nose"

"Just brush it off"

"I'm scared to move"

"Why? Just take it off"

"If I don't move, nothing can go wrong"

"Ugh, I'll take it off for you, you traumatized coward"

Yoichi discovered something today: his nose is very sensible. He just wishes he had discovered it in a different way.

*ATCHOO*

"Fuck."

"What? Is it over?"

"I'm done here. I did my work." Chigiri said in a hurry, packing his things quickly and then leaving. But before he stepped out the door, he shouted "I'd suggest you look at the mirror" he then smiled worriedly and shut the door

"Look in the mirror? What does he even mean...?"

When Isagi saw the hole in his hair, he let out a scream the whole neighbourhood heard.

The third day before the date was spent solving the hair issue

2 days before the date

"I don't have clothes."

"What do you mean you don't have clothes? What about all of these T-shirts on the floor?"

"None of them are good enough!" Isagi shouted

"I think you're too worried about this date" Hiori commented "Everything will go just fine, don't worry"

"Yeah! You just have to act as yourself!" Bachira added "If she accepted to go out with you, it means she already likes you, even if just a little!"

"I don't know, I think I might just cancel it. I think I'm too plain and boring for her?? I don't really know it anymore, man."

"There's NO WAY you're going to cancel it" Hiori said. With a jump, he got up from Isagi's bed, held his shoulders ans shook them while he spoke to him "Listen here tou little shit: I will NOT tolerate your endless rambling about her anymore. You finally got a date with her and want to throw it all away because of some senseless insecurity?? She accepted because she already likes you, Isagi. You don't need a whole new personality, new looks or anything. Just go as yourself. I can't take you talking about how you wish you were her boyfriend and all the things you want to do with her. Just grow a pair of balls and go to that date, goddamit!"

A gentle silence settled on the room

"He's right, you know?" Bachira broke the silence, unusually serious "You don't need to be Otoya, Reo or Karasu to make her like you. Just do what you'd normally do. I'm sure she'll like it"

"I think you guys are right" Isagi said, smiling "I'll just be myself!" He looked at the air and clenched his fist, doing a celebration and determined pose.

"Yeah!" Bachira hyped him up "That's the spirit! "

"Just drop the finger guns please" Hiori joked

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY FINGER GUNS??"

The day of the date.

He wasn't as nervous anymore. The talk with Hiori and Bachira really did help him, after all. He was actually determined.

You both were going to enjoy the date. He would make sure of it.

"Wow. You look beautiful" Isagi said, looking you up and down when he saw you at the restaurant. Turns out Reo's lesson was useless, since you both didn't share a car together.

"Thank you!" You said, giggling "You also look very handsome if I do say so myself!"

Isagi reached for the hand that was behind his back and pulled out a red rose

"For me?" You smiled, grabbed the rose and sniffled it. And oh, how he wished you'd smile only at him for the rest of his and your life. It made him feel even better knowing that he was the one who made you smile so brightly

He gently grabbed the flower from your hands and put it in your hair, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear in the process, careful to not let the thorns prickle you. He then smiled and grabbed your hands, looking you straight in the eye

"It reminded me of you, since you're both pretty"

Old habits die hard, they say. And so, even though everyone told him not to do it, he did it. The finger guns.

"I-it was cringy, wasn't it?" He said, nervous, when he saw you laughing at his (pathetic) attempt at flirting

"No it wasn't. I think it's kinda cute, actually" you linked both your arms together and smiled at him again (damn woman, did you want to kill him?) "Now let's go have the best date ever!"

You were perfect. And so, when you both entered the restaurant, there was only three things on Isagi's head, and he would make sure that all of them were going to happen.

Be yourself.

Enjoy.

Make her smile.

And so, you both went inside the restaurant, ready for fun and not knowing you'd get out with a new title that you would both proudly wear: "boyfriend and girlfriend".

~ A/N: Not proofread!! Also, I actually hate this sm omg

[aestheticaltcow]

The Night When It Went Wrong

Finally, part two to the Six Months multiverse.

More parts coming soon...

MDNI 18+

The Bear Masterlist

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Carmy walked toward a modest white-paneled house with a long brick walkway. A knot formed in the back of his throat as he walked up the steps to Selena’s front door. This was a mistake. He could turn back now, drive home to you and Mia, and pretend this had never happened. He'd pushed the doorbell before he could stop and think about what this would mean for his relationship. 

Selena opened the door quickly. She stood in the doorframe wearing a cropped white t-shirt and the same pair of lacy panties she’d been wearing in the picture she’d sent meer hours ago. She greeted Carmy with an overly seductive look. He swallowed and looked her up and down as she reached out to hook a finger in a belt loop of the Dickies he’d worn to work that day. She pulled him into her house quickly, closing the door behind him. She pushed Carmy against the closed door and pressed her lips to his. Carmy was cautious but felt it melt away when Selena’s fingers tangled in the roots of his hair; her lips were different from yours, but the desire behind them was intoxicating. Carmy felt a chill go down his spine when his hands moved to Selena’s hips to pull her body closer to his. 

She ended the heated make-out session and pulled Carmy upstairs and down a short hallway. Before entering what Carmy assumed to be Selena’s bedroom, he noticed the framed pictures on the wall. They were the typical pictures you’d see in a family home, although one stuck out: Selena in a princess-y white dress next to a tall man in military regalia. “You’re married?” Carmy questioned.

Selena quickly shook her head, “I’m divorced. My husband cheated on me after I had our kid- he was a shitty husband, but he’s a great Dad.” Carmy nodded, and a wave of guilt crashed over him. He was being a shitty husband. 

Once in her bedroom, Selena took charge and pushed Carmy onto her bed. She straddled Carmy’s hips and yanked at the hem of his shirt. He followed her lead and allowed her to remove his shirt and throw it across the room before putting his hands on her face to bring her lips to his. Selena pushed her tongue into Carmy’s mouth and felt herself gag at the overpowering taste of tobacco and artificial spearmint- how she hadn’t tasted it before was unbeknownst to her. She pushed his forearms down to the mattress beneath their bodies and moved to kiss down his jaw. Carmy moaned softly when her lips pressed against his collarbone. 

Selena sat on her heels as she pulled Carmy’s pants down his thighs. Carmy swallowed and closed his eyes when he felt Selena’s hand grasp the base of cock. As she stroked him and licked at his tip, both of them realized that he wasn’t… excited to be there with her. Selena huffed and stood up abruptly, “Am I not hot enough for you or something!” she angrily stared down at Carmy, crossing her arms over her chest. Carmy sighed and pulled his boxers and pants up in one swift movement.

“I can’t do this,” he said, avoiding eye contact at all costs. He stood up and grabbed his shirt from the floor before quickly exiting her bedroom. He couldn’t make out what Selena was yelling as he exited her house, the only thing on his mind was you and Mia.

Carmy pulled his shirt on as he got into the driver’s seat of his car. He saw his phone in the cup holder where he’d left it. The screen was illuminated with texts you’d sent between his arrival at Selena’s house and now.

Where are you?? I’m sorry for blowing up at you We should probably talk Can’t sleep without you… come home soon, Carm I love you, even if I’m mad at you

“Fuck.” Carmy laughed as he turned on his car. He pushed a hand through his hair and quickly turned on the radio before turning his phone off. He tossed it in the passenger’s seat before quickly driving down the suburban street lit with the occasional street light. Carmy couldn’t go home to you right now. He needed to get his head straight. Did he just cheat on you? He didn’t have sex with Selena- he couldn’t have even if he’d wanted to. Carmy drove through the downtown streets of Chicago for a couple of hours before deciding to go to work when he saw it was almost 4 AM. 

Carmy unlocked the door to the kitchen and turned on the lights before walking to his locker. He changed his shirt before going into the office to try and get a couple hours of sleep before the produce delivery came in. 

~

The night came and went, you couldn’t sleep. While you’d been upset with Carmy’s comments the night before, you’d grown accustomed to him sleeping beside you. When you’d rolled over that morning to see him missing, dread and guilt washed over you. You checked your phone to see he hadn’t texted you back. What if he was dead? He was tired when he’d come home from work last night. What if he fell asleep behind the wheel and crashed his car or drove into the Chicago River? You groaned and decided to call off work that day. The last thing you wanted to do was go into the office to edit some documentary about butterfly migration.

As the morning went by, you felt your anxiety increase. You still hadn’t heard from Carmy and you couldn’t shake the intrusive thoughts of him being hurt and alone. “Okay Mia. We’re goin’ to Grandma’s house!” you faked your enthusiasm hoping Mia hadn’t picked up on your energy, or notice that Carmy hadn’t been home all morning. You shot Carmy another text and threw your phone into your purse before picking Mia up out of her highchair. She squirmed in your arms as you unlocked your car from the front porch. 

After strapping Mia into her car seat and offering her a pacifier, which was promptly spit out, you laughed and kissed her cheek before walking around to the other side of the car. You took a deep breath as you sat in the driver’s seat for a moment; Mia happily babbled to herself as you pushed your hands through your hair. You grabbed your phone out of your bag and texted your Mom, asking if the two of you could come by. She immediately responded, demanding you get there ASAP. You shook your head as a soft smile came to your face. 

As you pulled into your Mom’s driveway, you saw her step onto the porch. She waved excitedly and came to help with Mia as you turned the car off. “There’s my girls!” she smiled as you exited the car. “Hey, Mommy.” You greeted her and watched as she walked around the car to get Mia from her car seat. Mia squealed as your Mom peppered kisses on her cheek.

“Let’s get this little princess inside. Coffee?” she offered. You nodded and followed her inside, locking the car before entering your childhood home. As the two of you entered the kitchen, you couldn’t help but notice the framed pictures on the wall. You and your siblings throughout the years, pictures of your nieces and nephews, when you saw a picture from your and Carmy’s wedding, your breath hitched. Your Mom noticed immediately. She balanced Mia on her waist and shot you a look, “Are you okay, peanut?” 

You looked up to see her face softened with concern. You shook your head, trying to hold back your tears. “Uh, Carmy and I got in a fight last night… he left and didn’t come home… now he isn’t answering his phone. I'm tempted to go down to the restaurant, but I don’t like mixing our relationship problems in with all that—I just—I just feel like such a fuckin’ failure, Mommy.” you confessed as you quickly blinked away the tears that had welled up in your eyes. “Hey. You’re not a failure. Get in here.” your Mom cooed, gesturing for you to hug her with her free arm. You frowned and closed the space between the two of you. 

As you rested your head on her shoulder, little fingers pulled at your hair. You laughed, feeling a little bit better. You looked at Mia to have her hand brushed against your forehead. “Thank you, princess.” You grinned, breaking away from the hug before taking the baby from your Mom’s arms. You held her close to your body as you watched your Mom pour coffee into two matching bunny mugs. 

“Do you want me to watch Mia for a couple days?” you shook your head at your Mom’s initial offer. “Mom, I couldn’t—" you were interrupted by your Mom insisting that it would be no problem and that she wanted to spend more time with her granddaughter before she could talk back. You sighed and reluctantly agreed. The two of you hung out for a bit before you decided to go home and wait for Carmy.

Natalie was doing paperwork in the office when her phone buzzed.

Carmy’s at the restaurant, right?

Yea Is everything okay?

Yeah He just isn’t answering his phone

Want me to kick his ass? I might be pregnant, but I can take him

Lol Just annoy him for me but like subtly…

She laughed at the text chain and slipped her phone into her pocket as she got up from her chair. She poked her head into the kitchen to see Carmy prepping vegetables for the night's special menu. “Bear? Can you come in here for a sec?” she asked, disguising her intention well enough not to raise suspicion in him. He looked up at her to say, “Give me a minute,” before returning to his chopping.

 Natalie nodded and leaned against the desk. A moment later, Carmy came in, wiping his hands against his apron. “Yo. You good?” he questioned, looking at the apathetic look on his sister’s face. She shrugged, “Why aren’t you talking to your wife?” 

Carmy rolled his eyes, “Sugar. It’s really none of your business.” 

Natalie clicked her tongue and gave Carmy ‘the look.’ The one that said she knew something was going on, and if he wouldn’t tell her, she’d find out one way or another. Carmy sighed and closed the door to the office before leaning against it, “Okay. I fucked up.” he scoffed, pushing a hand through his hair. Natalie shot him a perplexed look and crossed her arms over her chest. “Y/N and I haven’t… since the baby came,” Carmy said, gesturing toward Natalie, hoping he wouldn’t have to delve too far into his sex life with her. Natalie grimaced at the thought and nodded softly, signaling Carmy to continue explaining the last 24 hours, “So last night was the boiling point, I guess? Um- I uh- I blew up at her a little bit and uh left.”

Carmy scratched the back of his neck questioning himself, should he tell his sister the full truth of what he did? He knew she’d tell you in a heartbeat. Maybe he could convince her to let him tell you before she took the lead. “I uh… I sorta- I sorta fuck.” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. He stared at the floor, biting the inside of his cheek. “Natalie, I cheated on her.”

~

Tag list @namjoons-crabssss @sl-ut @thottae @cuddlehye @prurose @1184p @chaoticfanficfanx @ok-boke @literatureluster @bxtchopolis @americanprometheuss @buckystwilight @earth-elemental18 @thebearlily @siren-melodies @thel0v3hashira143 @innercreationflower @unpoqu1todetodo

[boowritess]

i love love love the headcanon of the 141 not having kids and babies and ewey.

i think that john price is still very relevant to that. kinda. i don't really seeing him having a pet honestly. unless you wanted one... sure... but nah y'know... he's old tired af. maybe a cat. probably definitely a cat.

but it's been you and john for as long as you can remember.

happy to be in each other's presence from morning to night, or simply just exist in a shared life that means you two don't have to always be around each other.

you could be shopping and he could be sleeping. he's outside tending to the stuff he had supposed to finish before he left deployment while you're reading on the couch inside. he's on a long deployment again, and you're at work.

plus the prospect of kids just never seemed to work into the schedule. "nah," john says to one of your friends, "can handle kids fine, but when i'm home, this old mans bones are good for sleep and not much else. i mean the breeding kink can get me goi-" john grunts when you elbow into his side.

"crude." you huff with an eyeroll.

"but true." he says into his beer as he takes a sip, eyes sparking with mischief.

your friend turns to you. "but doesn't it get lonely?" they asks. "wouldn't you want a little one running around?"

and well sometimes the days may be lonely for you when he's gone...

but that's become impossibly hard to focus on when your phone is being constantly blown up - not by price though. by the 141.

it's never really anything outrages or civil conversation. it's gaz asking which tie he should wear at an event because price said the black one but gaz doesn't really like the black one. then it's johnny sending you a video of him besting his previous time on a training course. though it doesn't stop there. ghost is messaging late nights for him but mid-day for you, asking about how to deal with insomnia. ghost is asking you because he knows you're awake and the others are asleep, he doesn't want to bother them.

you answer every single one, with so much care and attentiveness. you save every picture, every video and boost about their achievements to other people as if they were your own. however, people always assume you're talking about little kids not grown ass men.

yet on days when you're at home or you've come home from work. you're hardly surprised to find one of them had invited themselves into yours and johns home as if it was their own.

sometimes it's gaz crashed out on the couch who's in a desperate need of a shower but definitely needs sleep more.

or the sounds of soap in your fridge, raking around to find something to eat. "lass, ye out of cheese-" he ate the cheese. the whole newly bought block of it.

gaz and soap like to hover around you when they're home. whereas ghost helps price around the house.

but when it's just you and ghost, the oldest boy. it's quiet. there's no forced conversations but probably a few shitty jokes. it's you or him making food and the other doing the dishes. yet ghost opens up and the conversations turn into some of the most randomist, boyish, silly conversations.

when everyone's at home, it can actually be pretty hectic. so you go do the grocery shopping, but you take ghost along cause he's a little like you in regard for a need of quiet time.

oh and can't forget the days you go out by yourself only to come home with a few other things. socks for john - socks for all of them. you bought johnny a new pair of jeans and gaz a couple of shirts. and simon some more sweaters.

christmas, easter, new years - every single holiday is always hosted at yours and price. where everyone comes. farah, alex, laswell and her wife. rudy and alejandro making their way- then of course your boys...

and it's there where you've kinda realized.

you and john do have kids.

just in the form of grown men.

which both you and john don't seem to mind.

you end up shrugging your shoulders as you look at your friend, "honestly i have my hands full when they're all home. so... i'm good." you say with a hum, sipping from your own drink with a small smile as john just chuckles softly.

a/n: realized I never posted this. oh well. the no baby saga continues with john price. drink water be well ya'll xx

[newtkive]

shift shenanigans - social media au (pt. 2)

note: yes there’s the main work chat w carmy, the secret coworker chat w/o carmy, and the secret secret bestie chat w syd, marcus, and yourself. it would be canon.

warnings: crude humor, slightly offensive jokes

part one

liked by carmyberzatto, marcus.brooks11 and 40 others

chefboyardee: life lately

see all 9 comments

syd_adamu: that pho was life changing

↳ chefboyardee: i think it was the best i’ve ever had

marcus.brooks11: feet off the table @syd_adamu

↳ chefboyardee: leave my girl alone

↳ richietheking: I knew you guys were lez

↳ syd_adamu: we aren’t and you can’t say that

↳ chefboyardee: oh.. we aren’t? ☹️😔

↳ syd_adamu: 😑

carmyberzatto: 🍲🔥

THE GOLDEN TRIO

[ 7:45 AM ]

y/n: did you see

did you see

did

you

see

ogmgokggkowkfofsk

syd: pardon??

what did richie do oh my god

did he post another picture of him with the gun from that one day

fuckkkk carmys gonna be so mad

marcus: nope i wish

y/n: he commented on my post 😭😭😭😭

syd: who

marcus: think about it

who else would cause this reaction

y/n: carmy!!!!!!!

i woke up to him commenting 🍲🔥 😍😍😍😍

syd: woah and the heart eyes?

y/n: no that’s my addition

syd: the bar is in hell

HES YOUR BOSS

y/n: AND I WANT HIS BABIES??

marcus: y’all so hype to be pregnant THEN BOOOMMM ‼️ THE BABY’S UGLY AND BALD WITH ECZEMA 😩🤨

syd: LMFAOOOOO WHOS YALL THO????

y/n: bye im done

im leaving for work.

don’t talk to me ever again

done.

marcus: bye 👋

why do you leave so early fool

syd: so she can be teachers pet

marcus: smh always there before everyone

y/n: not true.

syd: i thought you weren’t talking to us

y/n: 😒

marcus: want me to bring y’all an iced latte again

y/n: …. 😁

WORK

[ 8:15 AM ]

y/n: AYOOOO

great job cleaning up after work yesterday 😊👍

richie: Is this a joke?

y/n: why would i joke about such a thing

carmy: Y/n what are you doing

y/n: u said to tell everyone their housekeeping is shitty

carmy: No I said I was going to tell them that, and you said no I’ll do it

This is not what I meant

y/n: well you yell too much

marcus: ouch

that’s my station 😔

carmy: Well clean it better

y/n: im using reverse psychology and positive reinforcement

carmy: Not what that means

y/n: well notice how no one’s mad at me

im making alliances day by day

richie: You’ve worked here for two years and we are already friends

y/n: so you’re saying you aren’t my ally

richie: No

We are definitley in an alliance

y/n: love u richie

richie: Don’t go that far

chefboyardee’s instagram stories

WE HAVE THE BEEF 🥩

[ 3:25 PM ]

y/n:

he so fine im bouta cermmmmm

syd: …..

marcus: :O

y/n: why are you acting shocked

like i haven’t said this daily

tina: Woah girl who?

y/n: HUH

richie: I’m not in the picture I don’t get it

syd: let’s just keep working before carmy notices

tina: I don’t care I’m on smoke break. Who are you talking about girl? Spill the tea..

marcus: she was talking about me you guys

y/n: the guy in the back

oh i mean yeah marcus

tina: The meat delivery guy? He has a wife..

y/n: we are having an affair

marcus: no it’s about me

richie: I didn’t know Marcus and Y/n were a thing..

tina: Something ain’t right. No way they are.

marcus: we aren’t it’s just our sense of humor

y/n: i was just being funny!

tina: What did Jeff just yell inside?

syd: came out of the office and said “just cuz we’re slow doesn’t mean you can play on your phones” 👍💯

tina: Whatever. No chance Y/n meant Marcus. You got the hots for Jeffrey?

y/n: what no

tina: Well I wouldn’t blame you. He’s cute

y/n: OMG RIGHTTTTTTT

its the tattoos isn’t it

richie: You have to be fucking joking

tina: I was playing..

y/n: im confused

syd: that was cruel

marcus: who cares it’s not a big deal

y/n: so you don’t think he’s cute tina?? ☹️☹️

tina: No he is cute… for you 😝

y/n: this is humiliating

richie: I’ll tell him

y/n: NO

stop

sSTOP THATS NOT FUNNY

richie im not joking i’ll put a bomb in your floorboards

richie: I’m just fucking with you kid

tina: This isn’t over.

THE GOLDEN TRIO:

[ 3:40 PM ]

syd: y/n….

marcus: you look like a ghost y/n

y/n: i cannot believe i sent that to the wrong gc

i’m done im so done

marcus: stop looking so sad it’s making me feel bad

syd: it’s okay! just be thankful it wasn’t to the work groupchat with him in it..

marcus: true it could be worse

y/n: i guess so

thank you for trying to cover for me marcus

marcus: anytime you know i got you

syd: let’s get back to work before we start looking obvious

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x fem!reader. millie can see it. moxxie can see it. half the imps in hell can see it. but you and blitzø? admit to yourselves you're attracted to each other? please.

but when misfortune hits on a mission, things change. is it for the better?

for 🕰️ anon. 2.8k.

featuring: blitzø typical foul language, sexual references, canon-typical violence, and a shitty avril lavigne reference.

“Y’know, that was actually a pretty good move you pulled back there, Blitzø.” you note as you step back through the portal and back into the familiarity of I.M.P. headquarters. Wiping ash off your cheek with the back of your hand, you drop your weapon unceremoniously onto Luna’s desk as you pass. She barely registers it, picking it up and tossing into the crate behind her without looking up from her phone.

“Saved your ass,” he replies, stretching in a way that suggests he’d just gone for a lengthy stroll than on a murder spree.

“You did not,” you protest indignantly. “I had it handled fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, fuck you, B.” you snipe, accepting the bottle of water Moxxie offers you as he passes. Despite your words, a smile is playing on your lips. One that Blitzø readily returns, his expression warm despite the blood still splattered across his face. “I swear, this is the last time I ever try and give you a compliment. Besides, if you really want to be praised for ‘saving my ass’, maybe you shouldn’t have been the one to fuck up the mission in the first place.”

“Ugh,” he eye-rolls playfully, jumping up to sit on the edge of Loona’s desk. She barely gives him a glance, attention still trained back on her phone. “You wanna ride my dick over it, you better lube up first, tits. ‘Cause I fuck rough.”

“Satan, you’re hot,” you say patronizingly, propping your elbow on the arm of the sofa and resting your chin in your hand. Blitzø grins, leaning forward as his tail flicks back and forth behind him. “Seriously, how have I resisted you for this long?”

“You wanna come to your senses, I’ve got the cuffs and edible underwear in my desk.” He offers jovially, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards his office door.

“Sir, please!” Moxxie admonishes, appalled. Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Mills: u 2 need 2 fuck so bad, I’M getting blue balls.

You look up from the screen and roll your eyes at the other imp pointedly, but she just raises an eyebrow at you as she takes a sip of her water. She’s been singing this song for weeks – this idea that you and Blitzø have some big secret yearning for each other. And sure, sometimes you might find yourself staring at him for a little too long… or your cheeks would flush when he looks at you the right way…

But that doesn’t mean you want to fuck him.

You were friends. And that’s fine.

Fine.

“Ohhh, you wanna join us, do ya, Mox? Blitzø taunts. He rubs a hand over his chin as though considering something. “Reckon we could squeeze your tight little ass into a pair of strawberry—”

You cut in before Moxxie can protest further, the shorter imp’s face flushed. “Why the fuck do you have edible underwear in your desk?”

Blitzø shrugs, leaning back on his hands in the picture of nonchalance. His tail flicks behind him. “They came in a three pack. And it turns out feathers and gummy panties don’t mix.”

You wrinkle your nose at the image that puts in your brain. The poor prince.

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Mmm… straight to the point, then.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Bet you taste—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Blitzø!” Loona groans loudly, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “Can you fucking not? I shouldn’t have to listen to this shit!”

You give him a poorly supressed grin in response to her outburst, and he winks at you before turning to offer Loona a series of obnoxiously over-the-top apologies, much to the hellhound’s chagrin. You shake your head in amusement as you settle back against the couch, your smile stiffening as you notice Millie staring at you pointedly, arms folded across her chest.

“What?”

“You know what,” she hisses, flicking her eyes meaningfully towards your boss. “Could the two o’ you be any more obvious?”

“Maybe if he was a skater boy,” you mutter under your breath sarcastically, tail tapping against the couch cushion beside you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You roll your eyes as she grabs hold of your wrist and drags you onto your feet and off into the conference room.  Of course, you know exactly what she’s talking about – this has apparently become one of Millie’s favourite topics of discussion for weeks now, no matter how profusely you deny it. You sigh as she closes the door behind you.

“Millie…”

“Don’t you ‘Millie’ me,” she scolds, jabbing a finger into your sternum. “This is silly!”

“You dragging my ass in here?” you shoot back. “Yes, it is.”

“Don’t even try it,” she replies. “When are you two gonna just admit tha’ ya like each other?”

“Mills, we’re not—”

“Oh, please. I ain’t blind. And neither’s Mox. It’s obvious.”

“There’s nothing to be obvious about,” you insist, dropping into your usual seat. Still, you can feel a flush burning through your cheeks. “Besides, he’s my boss.”

“Don’t give me that.” It’s her turn to roll her eyes, her tail waving irritably behind her. “Look, I love you. I love Blitzø. But you’re both fuckin’ idiots if ya think you’re foolin’ anyone! You know Blitzø would fuck you in a heartbeat!”

“Oh, please. He’d fuck a bagel in a heartbeat.” you retort. “We’re just friends. That’s all. Alright?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Sir,” Moxxie says as he follows Blitzø into his office. “When are you going to admit to Y/N that you like her?”

“What’s not to like?” Blitzø replies casually, tossing the weapons he’d used into one of the trunks in the corner. He has two identical ones; the only difference being that one was labelled ‘Wepons of Ass Destrukshun’. “She’s got a smokin’ set of tits and an ass that won’t quit.”

“Sir, that’s not—”

“Oh, come on, Moxx. You might be ‘married’,” he says the word in a mocking tone, as though they’d just traded ring-pops on a whim instead of matrimonial vows. “But you’re not blind.”

“I didn’t—”

He nudges Moxxie in the ribs with his elbow, and the shorter imp shoves him away. Blitzø grins wickedly. “Ooh, is that it? You want me to get all sweaty with her so I can give you all the nasty details? You freaky little pervert! I’m so proud of you!”

“Blitzø.” Moxxie deadpans. “You clearly have feelings for Y/N. And while usually I would lecture you on the inappropriateness of an employer pursuing an employee, you’re, well… you, and I can only expect the bar to go so high.”

“You’re welcome.”

“—All I’m suggesting, sir, is that you’re honest with yourself about those feelings. I think you’ll find—”

“I think yooooou’ll find that if I wanted to hear all about how neat ‘cuddling’ or whatever the fuck is, I’d watch one of those shit-ass hella-novellas Stolas is always ravin’ about.” he replies dismissively. “If she wants to get naked and bounce—”

“Sir.”

“—on my dick like a rodeo whore, then sign me the fuck up.” Blitzø drops into his chair, tucking his arms behind his head and his feet kicked up on the desk in front of him. “But that don’t mean we’ve got anything more between us. So, get your mind back in the gutter and tell me exactly how often you think about gettin’ double teamed by her and your strap-wieldin’ wife while I’m still hard.”

“Blitzø!”

The imp cackles heartily at Moxxie’s aghast tone, loud enough that you can hear him from the other room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Oh, fuck yeah!” Blitzø crows as the battle turns bloody, and you bury your dagger in the chest of the nearest target. “Eat a dick, assholes!”

You laugh breathlessly as Millie seconds his elation with a whoop, tugging the blade out of the body before it can fall and flinging the dagger out to your left, sending it into the eye socket of another human. You run, bending down to swipe your knife free of their skull and using the body as a makeshift springboard. You leap through the air, grabbing a fistful of hair of the next human, and they cry out in pain as you use the hold to swing around them to plant your feet on his chest and bury the blade in his neck.

“Ladies, let’s not get distracted here,” Blitzø calls, and you hear a spray of gunfire from the next room. “If Moxxie gets to kill this target before I get to take a selfie with their bitch-ass crying face, imma be pissed.”

“Then go!” Millie calls back, exhilarated. “We’re right behind you!”

You roll forward as the body falls, wrapping your tail around the handle of the knife and yanking it free again. You land in a crouch, sending the knife flying off into your next target. It hit them in the small of their back and they scream out in agony, and Millie uses her axe to decapitate them before they can even run out of breath.

You reach behind you to tug the other dagger out of the harness on your back, only to freeze when the double barrel of a shotgun swings down to point at you, only inches from your face.

“Well… shit.”

And then pain explodes over the back of your head and you’re unconscious before you hit the ground.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Okay…” you groan as you wake up, touching a hand to the back of your head. It comes away sticky with blood. “That hurt.”

You curse as you try to stand and the crown of your head meets metal bars, and you realize you’re surrounded by the stuff. You can feel the cold, smooth expanse of it under your fingers and hugging your shoulders, and you blink until your eyes focus, ignoring the throbbing of the back of your skull.

“Oh, for fuck’s—seriously?!”

You’ve been locked in a dog crate.

“Hey, looks like the little thing is awake,” says a feminine voice, and you wince as torchlight shines directly into your eyes.

“Cut the light, bitch.” you snarl, holding up a hand against it and squinting. You can only make out the shape of the woman, and the other figures behind her. “And I suggest you let me outta here before my friends find you, or… well, you’re gonna die either way, really. So, you know what? Go fucking nuts.”

The cage rocks to the side suddenly as someone’s boot meets the side and you curse as the move knocks you onto your side. “Fuck!”

“Mouthy little beast, ain’t it?”

“Hush up, Jeremy.” the woman replies as a growl rumbles through your chest. “This thing’s gonna make us—”

She breaks off suddenly and you flinch, sprayed with blood as her head explodes.

“Told ya so.”

“Listen here, ass fuckers!” you hear Blitzø snarl, another deafening shot firing into the air. “That’s my fuckin’ girl you’re fuckin’ with! So, unless you want my gun shoved so far down your cock-suckin’ throats you start shittin’ bullets, you better let her the fuck outta there you ugly-ass cunt-fucks!”

“Wh—?”

He barely lets them react before gunfire sounds again, and you hear bodies begin to fall. A smaller figure emerges among the humans, quick and deadly, and you watch as Millie flings herself into the fray, axe-first.

You hear the sound of metal being fumbled with, the padlock on the crate’s door hitting the ground with a thunk before the door swings open. Moxxie hooks a hand around your bicep and pulls you gently out of the cage, helping you to your feet. Your head swims as he does, and you clutch at his arm for balance.

“Thanks, Mox.”

He smiles despite the concern knitting his brow. “Can you walk?”

“Think so,” you reply, letting him lead you away from the carnage his wife and boss are currently wreaking. You can hear Blitzø cursing as something heavy hits the floor. You continue as Moxxie leads you into an alcove and pulls out his phone. “And, uh, Moxxie?”

“Yes?”

“About the dog crate…”

He grins as a portal opens up ahead of you, miming turning a lock in front of his lips. “I won’t say a word.”

“Thanks.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You grunt in pain as Blitzø pulls up outside your apartment, the van mounting the gutter and narrowly avoiding the row of trashcans.

“Whoops.” he deadpans, snickering when you flip him off. “You good?”

“I was,” you say pettily, and he rolls his eyes.

“’m serious. I didn’t—”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure him, dropping the icepack you’d taken from the office on the seat beside you. “If I’m going out, it’s not because some bitch-ass human got the drop on me.”

Blitzø smirks before rubbing a hand over the back of his head. “Look, I—”

“I gotta ask you something, B.”

He raises a brow. “If you’re lookin’ for ideas on how you can repay me for savin’ your ass back there—”

“I'm not.”

“Shame.” he shrugs casually. “’Cause if you’re gonna be handin’ out ‘thank you’s’, I’ve got a couple of ideas how you can give me mine. ‘Specially since you’re not complimentin’ me anymore…”

“I bet you do,” you reply dryly. “But can you hold off on the double entendre until after my headache goes away?”

He sighs dramatically. “Always fuckin’ something with you.”

You give a pained chuckle. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Ooh,” he draws it out, turning his head from where it rested against the back of the seat to wiggle his eyebrows at you. “Promise?”

“What did I just say?” you sigh, and he sniggers. “Now can I ask my thing?”

He waves a hand towards you by way of permission.

You swallow, fingers curling into your palms against your sudden anxiety. You look at him sidelong, an eyebrow raised. “Soooo… was I concussed, or did you call me your girl back on Earth?”

Blitzø stares at you, eyes wide for a moment before he lets out a coarse laugh that cuts right through you. “Did I—why would I—I mean…”

You sigh, shaking your head. Embarrassment burns in your cheeks and in your chest, and you swallow thickly. “Never mind. Like I said. Concussion.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, your hand curls back around the icepack as you move to shove open the van door with your shoulder. “I’ll see you at—”

You stop as you feel Blitzø’s hand close around your wrist, eyes widening as he pulls you back towards him. You fall against him as he does, his other hand claiming your cheek and his lips finding yours.

Blitzø kisses you roughly but somehow there’s still a sweetness to it, his claws curling in your hair as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His other hand leaves your wrist to clutch at your waist, holding you firmly against him. When your shock finally gives way, you feel yourself melt into the kiss, hands curling in the front of his coat.

You flinch away suddenly when the claws in your hair graze the edge of your wound. “Ow…”

“Fuck, sorry.” he grimaces, white cheek stained with red. “I didn’t—”

Your lips are on his again and Blitzø pulls you closer, urging you up onto his lap. You straddle his waist without breaking away from his mouth, taking his face in your hands. Blitzø groans into your mouth, arms wrapped around your middle to rest his hands on the small of your back. The touch made you shiver, and he felt it, pulling you flush against him so you can feel every inch of his chest and stomach pressed against yours.

“Blitzø…” you mumble his name into his kiss, one hand smoothing over the spikes at the back of his head, and when you grind your hips into his, Blitzø moans, bucking his hips up into—”

“SHIT!” he shouts, breaking away from your mouth in alarm as your back meets the steering wheel and the horn blasts, too loud. “Fuckin’ ASS!”

You snort a laugh, letting your head fall forward to bump your forehead against his shoulder. Blitzø smiles despite himself, and you feel his hand slide over your spine, smoothing between your shoulder blades.

“Fuckin’ loud ass—”

You shake your head against his shoulder, still chuckling.

“Finally make a fuckin’ move and the shitass—”

“Blitzø.” you interrupt, straightening to meet his eye. “…D’you wanna come upstairs?”

He swallows, his tail twitching slowly beside you. “Okay.”

[skxllz]

Hey... i'm in desperate need of some more Ian and Mickey x reader.. ilysm btw

baby ily too, here you go <3

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

male! reader

“ why the fuck are you starin’ at me like that? ” mickey's voice rang out on the other end of the phone. the signal was icky, so the crinkling of static could be heard through the line.

your fingers pressed to your lips to hold back your laughter. “ I'm not staring at you like anything. ” you heard ian reply - it sounded as if he rolled his eyes, too, just by the tone of his voice.

these two drama kings were always fightin’. even in jail, the two just wouldn't stop. but i mean, I guess that's more than likely to happen since they're in each other's presence every second of the day.

“ yeah the fuck you are, ” mickey accused again, this time scoffing. “ you gonna’ come over here or what? y/n's on the phone. ”

“ no shit, sherlock. I heard ‘im. ”

“ do you want me to bust you in the mouth? ”

“ there will be no busting anyone in the mouth. ” you sighed, rolling your own eyes. that seemed to catch both of their attention, because you heard shuffling —and mickey and ian slightly bickering— before ian's voice met the phone.

“ hey, gorgeous. ” his breathy tone met your ear, causing you to instantly melt. mickey and ian both always had an effect on you, but the red head had ways of making you gush like no other.

“ hiiiii... ” you slowly, shyly replied; trying not to giggle like a school girl while you rolled onto your stomach. you were lying on your bed, legs bent and kicking in the air. “ how's it goin’, i’ ? ”

ian chuckled dryly — and you heard more shuffling, probably him moving the phone to his other ear, before he replied. “ shitty. the guard's here are a pain in m’ass. ”

“ you can say that again! ” the familiar brunette shouted. you heard a bang after that — sounded like something hit the bars of the cell.

furrowing your brows as you heard ian yell, worry clouded your brian. “ what was that? ”

a huff from ian could be heard after a moment of silence. “ fucking— my god, mickey kicked the cell bars to piss off our guard. damn asshole. ”

“ I'm not an asshole — you're an asshole! ”

“ will you two stop? ” you pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut in irritance. “ you're gonna’ get in trouble. ”

“ already ha— ” a scraping sound and more static cut ian off from finishing his sentence. skin on skin contact was hard, like a slap, and then mickey's voice rang out from the other line again.

“ I'm back. ” he sounded smug. ian could be heard muttering swear words. “ what, uh— ” you could only picture him biting his lip right about now. “ whaddya’ doing? ”

your brows raised in light amusement — releasing the hold you had on your nose, only to slide your fingers down your face and chuckle. “ nothin’. talkin’ to you two dummies. ”

“ I'm a dummy? ” mickey scoffed. “ you wouldn't be sayin’ that shit if I was there, sweet cheeks. ”

you bit your bottom lip, cheeks pinkening at the suggestive threat. “ uh huh, an’ why's that? ”

it was clear mickey was now wearing a shit eating grin by the way he responded. “ your mouth would be too full swallowin’ my cock. ”

aaaaand you were red. curling your fingers closed, pressing them to your lips. it was hard not to squeal — but you were sure as hell curling your toes and kicking your legs excitedly. mickey preferred to bottom, as did you, but when he did top, it was beyond hot.

you were going to reply, but then you heard something over the intercom in the background. it was difficult to make out, the words sounded muffled — but by mickey groaning, you knew it wasn't good.

“ fuck.. ” he muttered.

“ what is it? ” you were concerned again; now worried that something had happened.

mickey sighed, passing the phone to ian. he now had a halfy — a growing erection to deal with, and couldn't speak to you since he was pissed, so he'd let ian deliver the news.

ian greeted you with a sigh, “ we gotta’ go, pumpkin. some stupid ass got us goin’ on a lockdown. probably an idiot that attacked a guard. ”

that made you frown. you had barely been on the phone with them for six minutes — you usually got fifteen. “ seriously? that fucking blows.. ”

a small laugh escaped ian. you could only imagine his pretty smile. “ I know, I know... ‘m sorry. we'll be home soon though, okay? ”

you huffed, “ yeah... okay. I just miss you. ”

“ we miss you, too... ” ian sighed. if anything, he was probably trying not to get too sappy over the phone. god only knows how emotional he can get with you. “ I love you, pretty boy. stay good for us, okay? ”

a smile lifted to your lips — hand sliding up your cheeks, only to lean on it and nod into your palm. “ I love you, too.. and I will. tell mick’ I love ‘im. ”

ian huffed a smile, “ I will. goodbye, y/n. ”

“ bye bye, i’. ”

[slayfics]

part 2 of you see katsuki on tv, pretty please 🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️

Let it be a lie.

800 words

Chapter two

You were ushered out immediately after shattering the TV above the bar with your glass. Only adding to the humiliation and distraught boiling in your chest.

The rest of the night was a blur as you made your way back home, effectively continuing to drink till knocking out. Only to wake up the next morning with a pounding headache. The bright light on your phone shrunk our pupils and elicited a sigh from the late time, 1:12 pm.

You unlocked your phone to check a notification. The first thing you noticed was the abundance of news articles and videos on every platform speculating if Dynamite was dating the women who ran up to him in the crowd. The next thing you saw was your text messages.

[Mina]: Are you ok??

A text from Mina, which could only mean, everyone saw, everyone knew. You rubbed your hands across your face. How could you even begin to respond to that question? You had to know first.

So, you slinked to the kitchen to grab some pain medication and typed out a message to Katsuki.

[You]: You two look good together.

You swallowed the two pills with some water and jumped at the sound of your ringtone suddenly filling the room. Katsuki's contact picture lit up your screen, it was a sight you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Hey," you answered the phone.

"You really think we look good together?" He asked, and your heart dropped. Did that mean they were together?

"She is a beautiful woman, she'd look good next to anyone," you remarked.

"Yeah, that's what my publicist said," Katsuki exhaled a laugh before explaining. "They said it would help me look more approachable and down to earth if I was dating someone. So, they picked out some model and her publicist thought it was a good look for her to be dating a hero."

Your stomach soured, "So you two are dating?"

"For the cameras or whatever, all I know is they said it would help me look good and in turn get higher in the charts," he said.

"Do you even like her?" you asked, your voice sounding harsher than you intended. But the whole situation was making your head spin even more than your hangover.

"Don't know, haven't talked to her. That kiss was just a stunt for the cameras, but I'm supposed to take her out for a fancy dinner or some shit to be seen by the press tomorrow," Katsuki said.

"Oh," you muttered not knowing what else to say. Had Katsuki really changed that much? The Katsuki you knew before wouldn't even pretend to do something he didn't want to. You couldn't decide if this publicity stunt was worse than him truthfully dating her. At least if they were honestly dating it would mean he was happy. "Katsuki," you paused trying to pick your words carefully. "Is this really how you want to make it to number one?"

Dead air filled the line between you both before Katsuki let out a breath, "I don't know." He finally said truthfully.

"I just... never imagined you'd be so wrapped up in the celebrity side of heroism. I didn't think that's what truly mattered to you." You spoke.

"It doesn't. I want to be number one, that's what matters to me. I got a big team behind me now and, they seem to think this stupid bullshit will help so...," Katsuki broke off and paused. "Does it... really seem like something I wouldn't do?" he asked, voice lower.

"Do you remember what you told me you said when you were captured by the League of Villains?" You asked.

"What?" He asked.

"You told Compress I only do what I want to, and I won't even pretend otherwise."

Katsuki paused for another long moment before letting out a chuckle, "Damn I did say that hu? I had a lot of spunk back then."

"You still do," you replied. "How long has it been since you've seen anyone else?"

"Hm? You mean shitty hair and dunce face?" He clarified.

"Yeah, or... even Izuku."

"Don't know, probably longer than the last time I've seen you. Been working so much." He answered.

"Why don't you come to see us... I know everyone misses you, and... let us remind you of the Katsuki we know. Stop being Dynamite for a day."

You could almost hear the cheeky smirk on the other line when Katsuki said, "Ya know- my publicist did free me up around dinner time tomorrow for that model. But- I think I'll tell her I had a change of dinner plans, gonna see some old friends instead. See you idiots then?"

"Yeah, I'll get the gang together." You smiled.

"Alright, it's a date then... a real date." He stated.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99

[issi-loves-dannyric]

PT2 Lando x exReader - Daniel x reader

Warnings- MDNI, unprotected sex, and shady!Daniel (a king)

Part 2/2 previous 1/2

Y/n insta

Liked by DanielRicciardo, Carlossainz55,

Japan went smoother than Australia but the animals here mostly too big to steal.

User1: she’s really living the life I want

User2: getting more pictures of her again slowly omg

—User3: suspect we’re going to get our mother back soon.

Danielricciardo: photo creds?

-y/nofficial: fine…photo credits to my biggest fan❤️

—danielricciardo: that’s better…I guess

User4: Her and Danny banter in comments makes me believe in love.

-user5: So real, I feel so single now

Carlossianz55: could say Japan was a…smooth operation?

-y/nofficial: of course Carlitos 😌

-Carlossainz55: we’re both smooth operators now.

—y/nofficial: forever❤️

User6: WAIT she’s also close to Carlos. The fangirls are going insane.

-user5: can confirm.

~

Spending time with Danny was fresh air, still is but add a minor inconvenience. Feelings. How was I not going to fall for him when he picked me up during a shitty time and purposely tried his best to distract me. Makes sure we do things he knows I will like rather than just what he wants to do. When I wanted to stay in and read he stayed in watching something on the tv or napped. I don’t want him to think he’s just rebound from Lando. That’s why I’m stuck between being affectionate or closed off.

“Y/N, china is next so are you coming with?” He asks walking out of the room shirtless causing me to fight the urge to look.

“What do you think?” I ask with a dead face

“You’re going to follow me around everywhere this season” He states moving towards the counter I’m standing at.

“Of course” I say smiling back to him causing him to laugh and smile harder. Pulling me into a hug, I rest my arms around his stomach putting my head to his chest.

“When are we leaving?” I ask looking up to him. He pauses looking down at me, eyes drifting from mine to my lips. The slight movement easy to notice when you want to kiss the person or that you’re in love with them.

“We can leave today, get there extra early to sightsee.” He says looking away clearing his throat.

“Sounds good to me” I say while tucking my head back into his chest. He puts his hand on my head then press a kiss to my scalp. Or I’m tripping and he just is resting his head.

“Let me change and put my stuff together. Which you need to do too” I state pulling away, look at his face it seemed like he was thinking of something. “Dannyyy” I call out break the trance.

“Yeah..” he trails off hiding a confused face. Walking away to exactly what I said I was going to do but by the time I’m ready, Danny is staring at his phone. Sitting next to him on the couch laying my head on his shoulder, “what’s wrong” I mumble causing him to tense.

“Who said something is wrong?”

“Danny” I say moving my head from his shoulder to look at him. Still he looks down at his phone which has Twitter open with tweets about me and him, lando drama and people thinking something is going on with Carlos.

“You know the things they say is just to hurt us.” I state putting my hand on his arm.

“What about what they say about you and Carlos?”

“The comments is the closest thing to a conversation me and him had in the past two months.” I answer looking at him who’s now looking at his darkened phone screen.

“Danny…” I trail off putting my hand on his chin turning his head. “There’s more clearly, what’s going on” I ask rubbing my thumb on his jawline. His eyes flick between my eyes and lips once again.

“I…I fell in love with you. I know you’re just getting out of a relationship which is making it harder.” He sighs while examining my face causing me to smile a little.

“It’s okay” I state with my hand still on his jawline.

“What do you mean?” He asks putting his hand over my wrist holding my hand to his face.

“I did too, I didnt want to say anything because I don’t want you to think you’re just a rebound.” I respond causing him to look shocked.

“How long?”

“I don’t know, I just noticed the things you did that no one else did for me. You make me feel special and no one has done that before.” I reply looking into his eyes. His eyes move to down to my lips again, this time I do the same. Shifting his hand from my wrist he moves it to my waist.

“I want to kiss you so bad right now” he mumbles

“Do it” with those 2 words his lips are on mine. The hand that was on his jawline moves to his hair. He pulls my waist more towards him before moving me onto his lap. His lips move down my neck making me let out a tiny moan and bite my lip. Only encouraging him to continue, he runs his hands up and down thigh slowly going more towards my heat.

Bring his lips back up to mine we continue kissing once again. Breaking away for a second I look down at him smiling, “as much as I would like to go further, we have a flight to catch” making him groan.

“We can finish later” I say pecking his lips moving off him.

“Let’s hurry up so later comes faster.” He says getting up and grabbing his things.

Y/nofficial

Caption: To Shanghai we go ✈️

—Maxfewtrell: What is this y/n

-y/nofficial: nothing Maxie, don’t worry.

-Maxfewtrell: I’m worrying y/n!

—Carlossainz55: he finally admitted

-y/nofficial: who?

-carlossainz55: y/n…don’t play stupid

-y/nofficial: memememe

—Danielricciardo: my love❤️

Y/Nofficial

Liked by Danielricciardo, Maxfewtrell, Carlossainz55 and 901,876 others

Y/nofficial: I think I made a good decision in Australia.

-Danielricciardo: no photo creds again I see…

--Y/nofficial: actually they told me I didn’t have to credit them! Thanks for the concern old man🫶

Danielricciardo: Weird, wonder why they didn’t want credit?

—y/nofficial: I don’t know! They were kinda strange photographer!

—user1: Daniel what do you know?!

-user2: Mother do we have a new dad??

-user3: screaming crying throwing up

Carlossainz55: mememe

—y/nofficial: cálmate, Carly

-carlossainz55: don’t give me attitude next time

-y/nofficial: mememe

Maxfewtrell: Answer me!! I’m not man, I just want to talk.

—y/nofficial: nuh uh

Maxfewtrell: DONT YOU NUH UH ME BRAT

—user4: y/n stressing these men out, true queen shit

*liked by y/nofficial

-danielricciardo: please stop encouraging this behavior from her.

-y/nofficial: Nuh uh

-user5: WHY ARENT WE TALKING ABOUT THE 7TH AND 9TH PICTURES MORE

-user6: I KNOW, LIKE WHO IS HE

-user7: Maybe Daniel?

-user8: Idk Carlos is closer to her age.

Danielricciardo Story

caption: beautiful views here

Y/nofficial: MY LOVE I POSTED THIS PICTURE

-danielricciardo: oops 🤭

“Danny!” I groaned from the bedroom of the huge hotel

“Yes my love” he responds with a smirk walking towards the bed I sat on.

“Didn’t you want to go the soft launch route” I question while pouting.

“Yes but I want to show the world my love for you soon” he says getting on to the bed in front of me. Pulling my chin up with his hand, gently puts his lips to mine. Quickly I reciprocated the kiss, tangling my hands into his hair. As the kiss heats up he slides his hands to the bottom of my shirt, slipping them under. Taking off the shirt I was once wearing he lays me back kissing my neck and collarbone. Making his way back to my lips, I tug his shirt up slightly to which he quickly discards somewhere in the room. Leaning forward once again this time I push him to the side of me to get on top of him. Continuing to make out, he wraps his arms around my waist pulling me into him as much as possible. My heat rubbing against his hard dick make us both to whimper. The friction between us making us more sensitive and hornier for each other.

Once again he takes control laying me on my back kissing down my chest. Putting his mouth on my hard nipples causing me to groan and grip his curls. Moving his right hand to my short, rubbing my covered heat. Whimpering again, he makes way back go my lips. Hooking a finger around the waist band on my shorts and underwear pushing them slowly down. Removing my hands from his hair and shoulder, I pull my short and underwear off fully for him. He couldn’t resist staring at my fully unclothed body, “finally all mine” he mumbles kissing my lips with more urgency. Pulling his own sweats and boxers off, pulling our bodies closest as possible. Making his dick bump into my clit causing a moan to slip out.

“You sure you want to do this” he questions while using his thumb to rub my clit.

“Yes” i practically cried

“Good girl” he says slipping himself into me with little struggle due to how soaked I am. “My good girl” he moans as he bottoms out.

“All yours, Daniel” I tell him as he puts his head into my neck kissing and leaving marks. His thrusts are slow and deep making me want more.

“What do you want baby?” He asks into my ear groaning

“Fuck me harder, my love” I say earning a loud moan from him. He pushes his hand up to my neck as he thrusts harder and faster into me. Moaning louder now he suppresses them with his lips as he struggles to hold on.

“Keep making noises like that and I will cum in you” he warns looking me in my eyes.

“Do it Danny” all I can respond with making him start to fuck into me harder than I’ve ever been before. “Cum in me Daniel” I moan into his shoulder, biting onto him.

“You want me to cum huh? Be good girl and take it all” he moans as he starts filling me up, slowing down to fuck the cum deeper into me. This causes me to tighten and cum onto him. For a second he stays inside not moving, just staring down into my eyes while we catch our breath.

“I love you” he whispers not thinking until he said it.

“I love you” I say smiling and pulling him down into me hugging him closely.

“Let’s shower” he says pulling out making me whimper. Getting up I could feel the cum slowly move towards my thighs. The sight of it making him moan slightly, “breeding kink” I state to him walk towards the shower where I turn the water on.

“Choking kink” he replies.

Once in the shower he helps me clean up and hugs me close to him. Kissing my shoulders and grabbing anything he can. Getting out, he wraps a fluffy towel around my shoulders before wrapping one around his waist. Legs wobble slightly with each step I took towards the bed. The second I’m in the bed he orders takeout and turns on Bobs burgers knowing how much I love it. Cuddling while eating before falling asleep in each others arms.

Y/nofficial

Liked by Danielricciardo, Carlossainz55, oscarpiastri

Y/nofficial: Think I needed someone older ❤️ I love you Danny.

Danielricciardo: I love you mi Bebe

Carlossainz55: finally also where’s my photo credit?

-y/nofficial: one picture Carly…

-carlossainz55: ONE OUT OF THE 100

-y/nofficial: memememe

User1: I just know Lando is crying into a pillow and throwing up.

-danielricciardo: good!

-User2: DANNY YOU SHADY SHI-

User3: living for her relationship with the grid.

User4: homie hopper

-danielricciardo: not homie hopping when you weren't friends with the ex!

User5: Danny is going crazy in these comments.

-user6: remember when she got hate and lando never protected her?

-user5: OMG YES, he fumbled so hard

*liked by Y/nofficial and Danielricciardo*

Danielricciardo

Liked by Y/nofficial, carlossainz55, Maxfewtrell and 1,009,580 others

Danielricciardo: I would like to thank my mother for raising me right, I would like to thank y/m/n for creating this beautiful woman and I would like the thank the last guy that fumbled. She’s all mine now and I can promise I won’t fumble like him.

I love you mi amor. ❤️

Y/nofficial: I love you my savior❤️

Carlossainz55: finally won’t have to listen to his complaining!

-y/nofficial: why are you like this 😟

-Danielricciardo: how could I not when she’s this beautiful

Carlossainz55: give me my photo creds!

-Danielricciardo: no brother

-y/nofficial: no brother

Carlossainz55: I hate you both.

User1: LMAO CARLOS FIGHTING FOR SOME CREDIT

User2: HES SO SHADY! I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

User3: i need someone to protect me like Daniel protects y/n

-user4: SO REAL

User5: Lando fumbled so hard but so glad he did

-y/nofficial: wish I didn’t have to realize Danny’s my LOML like that glad I did!!

-Danielricciardo: took long enough but glad we took that time!!

User6: omg this means the nails she got done was to soft launch!

-y/nofficial: yes actually!! Even had a 3 under my ring finger!

-user6: don’t touch me I’m fragile, noticed by y/n and she had his number under her RING fingernail!

*liked by y/nofficial

[nariism]

come out and haunt me

pair. itoshi sae x ghost!reader

content: fluff, angst/comfort with a happy ending, reader is a ghost, platonic + romantic interactions, strangers to friends (to more?), slight pining

synopsis. sae is 13 years old when he moves to madrid. his temporary apartment is old and cheap, and worst of all it's haunted. but he finds your company better than nothing, even if you do tend to knock all of his belongings over.

wc. 5.7k

You are dead.

As it comes to all mortal humans, you have died. You can't remember when, or how, or why— only that it is your duty to haunt this home, that you are abysmally cold, and that you are dead.

You don't know if you had any last words, what it was like to draw a breath, or how to stop feeling so cold. Cradling yourself somehow makes it worse. But you are dead, so what does it matter if you can't remember?

If you had aspirations and meaning in life, then you suppose you should try to find them in death, too. So you float around empty halls, deliberately bump into things just for the fun of it, and pretend that you aren't dead. It is purposeful enough.

There's a boy who lives with you.

You are dead, and he is alive, yet he seems completely unbothered by your loud, obnoxious presence.

Sae feels more dead than alive.

He is 13 years old when he moves into his temporary home in Madrid. It's old and worn. It is all his parents could afford with Yen in a foreign country.

His new home is despairingly lonely. It makes the heart in his chest sink into the pit of his stomach. He misses Rin. His parents. Japan.

He should be thankful. He doesn't mean to be a brat. But the small apartment is cramped and cold and smells like mildew. He's allergic to something in the walls. His light buzzes horribly when it turns on.

And, well. The place is haunted.

You are a ghost haunting an old, rickety apartment in Madrid.

You've never seen your reflection in the mirror, but you're pretty sure you look scary. There has been others before him— a young couple with a dog; a retired carpenter; a businessman complaining about how shitty work is over the phone. Each and every one of them have left you the same way: screaming, crying, colour drained from their faces and packing their suitcase before you could even say hello.

It's a little lonely, being a ghost. Sometimes you wish you came off a little friendlier. You have no ill intent, you're just bored. Bored and lonely and wishing to know why everyone thinks you're so terrifying.

The boy who lives with you is the first. He's the first to look you dead in the eyes and shrug you off. He's the first to fall asleep knowing your presence is watching. He's the first to leave out a bowl of warm, steaming rice for you even though he seems to know you can't physically eat it.

His company is silent, as is yours. It's better than nothing.

Sae is 13 years and 5 months old when he tells Rin his apartment is haunted.

"A ghost? Seriously?" Rin sounds unimpressed even through the static of the phone call. Take it from the kid who watches horror movies in his spare time. Freak, Sae thinks.

"Seriously. I have a picture."

He can hear his brother pulling his phone away from his ear to look at the image he just sent. The call goes quiet for a moment, and then Rin is scoffing in the microphone again.

"Quit messing with me." The younger Itoshi sighs. "This isn't funny."

Rin is only 11. He lives at home with Mom and Dad. He's not alone right now, in a place where everyone speaks a jumbled language he can't decipher yet.

He doesn't understand that even if Sae isn't being haunted, he shouldn't crush his brother's hopes that someone, or something, is watching over him.

"I'm not," Sae deadpans.

"Yeah, okay, and what does this ghost do, then?" He still sounds skeptical.

"Mostly just knocks over my books and stuff."

From his couch, he watches you bristle in embarrassment and scurry away into the darkness of the hall.

You are some sort of untethered soul, unsure of where your actual body rests. It could be 10 meters from this apartment. It could be in Antarctica, for all you know.

Okay, well, Antarctica is a bit of a reach, but you're certain that your body is somewhere. You wonder what kind of clothes you used to wear; what kind of music you used to listen to; what kind of hairstyle you used to prefer.

You wonder if these things are anything like Sae's.

He's all you have right now. It would be nice if you had some things in common. Maybe you could be friends, if he was ever going to acknowledge you to your face instead of gossiping to his brother.

You watch him quietly from the kitchen table, waiting for your bowl of rice. You must make some kind of face when he instead places a plate of eggs in front of you.

He almost laughs, you think. He hasn't shown any sort of emotion in response to you thus far, so it's hard to tell.

"Coaches told me I have to be stricter about my diet," he says out loud. It's the first words he has ever spoken to you. It's the first words anyone has ever spoken to you.

He eats his bland eggs silently after that remark, eyeing them disdainfully.

You have that in common, at least. You miss your warm bowl of rice.

Sae thinks you are funny.

He's only ever known ghosts to be malicious, benevolent beings. Things stuck in purgatory with no way out, forced to wander the mortal plane and thus turning into baneful monsters. Watching spooky movies with Rin has ingrained this into him—  hardwired his brain into giving him goosebumps whenever you're around even though he knows you're harmless.

He has to wonder how anyone could ever find a ghost like you genuinely scary, with your avoidant eyes and that patience while you wait for breakfast.

He doesn't mind doing twice the amount of dishes. Not if it means he doesn't feel alone.

You do silly things, like shoving his belongings over when you want his attention, or sitting on the floor and blowing bone-chillingly cold air into his face when he's taking his midday nap.

He's discovered that your inconsistent corporeal interactions with the world are quite amusing.

"What's your name?" He asks one day over eggs that he's shoving around on his plate.

Silence. Of course.

"Don't have one?"

You shake your head, but really, you don't know. You can't remember.

Sae has never been the talkative type, but for some reason he just can't keep his mouth closed. Being a complete shut-in and not having anyone to talk to outside of his team would do that to him, he guesses. He's thankful that you at least don't seem to have a language barrier when he speaks Japanese.

"Should I name you?"

Your offended expression screams: What am I, a pet?

He just smiles, placing his fork down and observing you carefully. And the name he decides on dances at the tip of his tongue, sounds so sweet coming from his lips.

You can't help but think the name was meant for you, in life or in death.

You like listening to Sae talk.

He has a voice smooth as silk, so charming and boyish. He's young, you think. He told you once that you also looked rather young, and asked you how old you were when you died.

Even if you had an answer for him, it's not like you could have told him.

Sae is famous for his age, you discover one night while watching television with him. You're sitting on the floor and he's on the couch. You cause the TV to frizzle and crack with static but he doesn't shoo you away. Maybe he finds your presence more valuable than the background noise of the screen.

He's in a recording, playing what he calls "football"— light blue uniform, eyes wide with adrenaline, sweat sticking to his forehead and a proud shine in his expression. He isn't smiling by any means (you've also discovered that he rarely does), but you can tell he's happy.

"I'm going to be the greatest striker," he says from the couch. He talks about his dreams a lot, which is apparently what he used to do with Rin, but you don't mind filling in that role temporarily. "I'm going to be the best in the entire world."

You don't know anything about football, but you believe him anyways.

Sae is 14 years old when he gets his first contract payment.

This is his chance, he realizes, to move out of his shitty little apartment and into an actual livable home.

He has to consider if you'll feel lonely, if you even can feel lonely, and if you'll like hanging out with your next housemate, whoever it is that's unlucky enough to have a ghost befall them.

He's getting soft. If it were any other point in his life, Sae would have taken the chance to move out without hesitation. But you've been there for him since day one, kept him enough company — no matter how quiet — for him not to go literally insane.

You're the only thing he has in Madrid that he can come home to right now. You’re the only reason he even comes home at night instead of just sleeping in the locker rooms.

If not him, who else would feed you crappy bland eggs in the morning?

You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. At some point, it became his routine.

"I was thinking of moving out."

Your head tilts to the side. You seem perplexed by his statement.

"Like, leaving. Leaving here."

You blink at him, head tilting the other way. There's a look in your eyes that tells him you understand. There's also a look that tells him it's not your first time being abandoned, left in this terribly lonely, smelly apartment.

"I can never tell what you're thinking," he huffs.

You're still for a moment, just staring at him as if you suddenly can't understand Japanese. But then you get up from the table, walk over to the container of dry rice that's been untouched for so long that it's gathering dust, and knock it over.

"Hey," he scolds sharply, chair screeching as he stands. "I have to clean that, you know?"

You start moving the spilled rice into place. He watches curiously as you sort dry rice into a pile. You don't know any Kanji, he isn't surprised. But you know enough to draw him a universally understood symbol.

When he peers over at the messy counter, he finds himself staring at a giant X. Stay, it means. Don't leave.

That night, when he knows you've retreated into the closet where you seemingly go to sleep, he crumples up the lease for his new place without signing and burns the paper.

It's because he needs to make you eggs tomorrow morning. Only he would know to do that.

"Do ghosts ever have dreams?"

You raise your head from the edge of the bed. You've made it a new habit to protect him in his sleep, from what he can tell. Perching yourself on the floor beside the mattress and resting there, head in your arms, making his sheets cold.

You shake your head. Of course not, he internally smacks himself. What a ridiculous notion.

He rolls himself over onto his side, looking at you from under his duvet. "So when you sleep, you don't see anything?"

Another shake of the head. He isn't sure you're understanding him. There's another pause as he peers at you, and then he sighs, eyes sliding shut.

"Do ghosts ever have dreams?" He asks again, this time emphasizing his words in a different way and hoping you'll answer him the way he wants.

Your eyes shift away for a second, as if pondering. When you look back he's surprised to see that you look... bashful?

You point at him, then at yourself, then shy away again.

You. Me. Friends.

Sae feels silly that it makes his heart ache a little— the sadness carried in your face and a loneliness so powerful he feels it rattling in his own bones.

Well, the two of you have a lot more in common than he thought. How long had you been alone? Was that really all you ever dreamed of? Having a friend?

Suddenly, his doubts about his own dreams feel immeasurably small.

He reaches out to pat your head. His hand goes through you.

Sae is 15 years old when he packs up his belongings for a flight to Japan.

"I'll be back," he promises with a small smile. You believe him. He doesn't lie to you.

You wait patiently at the door for him for two weeks, three days, and sixteen hours. When he comes home, he finds you sitting on the floor like you always do with your head in your knees and a sleepy expression on your face.

He seems colder. More withdrawn, for some reason.

"Miss me?" Sae asks, but he's not even looking at you. He makes his way over to the kitchen and dumps a cup of rice into the cooker, suitcase abandoned at the door unpacked.

You trail behind him curiously, watching him in confusion as he washes it in the sink. He pauses, finally glancing at you before reaching over and dumping a second cup of rice in.

"I stress eat. Don't tell my coach."

The words don't make much sense to you, but you nod anyways.

For the first time in months, he places a bowl of warm rice in front of you. You do as he does, say thanks for the food in your head even though you can't eat, and observe him. You both sit quietly in the dim light of the apartment, moonlight beaming through your single rickety window.

He only gets four bites in before he puts his head in his hands and sobs.

You've never seen someone cry so hard before. Usually, they only do it when they first catch a glimpse of you and flee in terror. You've never known it to be such a painful sound— like a bird singing for the sky but never finding it.

Sae sits there for a long time just crying to himself, not caring that your presence is still watching. It's not like you'd ever judge him or have the voice to speak this secret, anyways.

"Fuck—" he hiccups, wiping up his face. "—Sorry."

You look at him funny. He has no reason to apologize. He's just a kid. A 15 year old kid who needs to stress eat in the solitude of his lonely apartment right now. It makes your chest squeeze; an unfamiliar, horrible feeling that's completely new to you. You wonder if this is what all the anime he watches calls a heart.

By the time he finishes crying, his rice is cold. And when he looks up, his eyes widen. Your lips are trembling and you look like you want to shout at him, but you can't. You are dead. You're a ghost. You can't yell some sense into him, even if you tried.

In the pale moonlight shining into the room, he can see tears illuminated on your cheeks.

Sae is 16 years old when he meets his first partner.

"They're nice," he reassures you as he slicks his bangs up with gel. You shake your head in disapproval and he rolls his eyes. You always liked his bangs down, thinks he looks better that way. "Well, I can't stay single forever."

You scowl at him and swivel on your heel to stubbornly deny his claims. He just laughs.

"You're seriously jealous?"

You shoot him a glare.

"If you really don't like them, you could always scare them away. You are a ghost, aren't you?" He reaches up to pat your head as he always does. And as always, his hand phases through you.

He turns around to fix his hair again, leaning into the mirror to see himself closer.

You're not sure if you even have human features. You can't see them in a reflection, anyways. Even if you did, you're sure they're pretty scary.

You glance at Sae in the reflection. He looks as good as ever, no longer a scrawny little 13 year old kid who eats rice for breakfast every morning. You wonder if his partner is pretty like he is.

He must notice the chill in the air grow ten times colder— a telling sign that your mood is dropping. He turns around to see what has happened, only to find you sulking.

"What?"

You pout, gesturing to the mirror. He looks to the vanity, then to you, and he shakes his head with an exasperated smile.

"I was wondering when you'd ask," he says as if this was a conversation he's been waiting for. And then he talks. Talks more than you've heard in a long time— since he came home from Japan, probably.

He's gotten meaner over the years. He was always a rude little kid, but being pushed around in football must have given him thicker skin and a sharper tongue. You've never known him to be a saint of a human, someone who speaks so eloquently in their descriptions. But here he is now, defying your every expectation like he always does.

He tells you what colour your hair is. Compares the shape of your head to a fruit you can't recall an image of. Gives you a detailed explanation of all your flaws and marks and why he thinks they're so perfect because it proves that you were indeed alive and human at some point.

"You're beautiful," he concludes casually, as if he's not turning the entire world on its head right now.

Silence fills the room as he waits for your response. You don't do anything but gawk at him, and he chuckles.

He doesn't show up to his date that night.

"Your hair got longer," Sae points out one day while he's scrolling through his phone.

Your eyes flutter open from where your head rests on the coffee table. You hadn't even noticed. Can ghosts grow? 

"You know, I used to think you'd stay the same forever, but you've been growing up with me. It's cute."

Have you? Is it cute? Are you seriously so tethered to him that you've been unconsciously changing to match him?

Sae puts his phone down at your confusion. "Should I give you a birthday if you're going to grow up?"

You don't know what a birthday is. When he tries to explain it, you're even more perplexed. Ghosts don't have birthdays. They have... deathdays.

He puts a cake in front of you anyways and lets you blow out the candles.

Sae is 17 years old when he gets the eviction notice.

Four years. Four long, hard, unbelievably painful years later, and he's finally being kicked out of his house.

13 year old Sae would have celebrated. All he feels now is despair.

He doesn't tell you. He can't. How can he explain that he won't wake up every morning at 6am sharp to make you eggs? That you won't have someone around who will tell you every little thing that's changed about you from the last day? That you won't be able to doodle him little incomprehensible blobs with dry rice anymore?

He shouldn't care so much. You're not chained to this Earth. You might just disappear once he leaves, inperceptable to anyone else. The thought makes him so sick that he throws up that night. He tells you he ate some bad food.

Sae doesn't want you to feel sad or lonely, but it's not like he can just become a squatter in this place. His dream is to play football, not be thrown into jail.

You wake up one morning, and he's gone.

There isn't a note. There isn't an explanation anywhere to be found. There isn't even a trace of evidence that Itoshi Sae ever lived here.

Well, except for the plate of eggs and bowl of rice sitting on the stove.

You thought you would have been used to being alone by now. For some time, you were used to it. But that was many years ago.

You're not sure how long you've been haunting this apartment in Madrid, nor do you know how much time passes after Sae leaves. The world seems to come to a halt, actually. Without him, what fun is being a ghost?

Now you're just a lost soul like all the others. There isn't anything special about you. You're just the ghost that used to haunt Itoshi Sae and wake him up from his naps.

For the first time in years, you only know one thing. A singular fact that keeps you bound to this world: it's your duty to haunt this home. There is nothing else.

No one moves in after Sae leaves. No one new comes to be haunted. No one dares to set foot into this apartment. You remember that there were moments when life flickered inside of you, if even for just a fraction of your infinite time. The reason for that has abandoned you without explanation.

There's a knock on the door one day. You can't open it, and the person outside doesn't bother sticking around to see you phasing through the door to look around.

There's a birthday cake on the floor with candles that say '19' sticking out of it.

Only one human in the entire world would have deemed today to be your 19th birthday. He's nowhere to be seen.

He moves back to Japan on his 21st birthday. Sae is having trouble remembering what you look like, despite seeing you in his dreams every night.

It's a terrible realization. So terrible that it makes him sob into his pillow at night when no one in the world is awake to hear his anguish.

Japan is lonelier than Madrid. He never thought it would happen, and he blames you entirely.

He doesn't have anyone waiting for him when he opens the door to his luxury penthouse apartment. He only washes one plate in the morning. He wakes up from his midday naps undisturbed and rested.

Sae misses you deeply. And he can't help but wonder if you feel the same.

(You don't know what the yearning ache inside of you is. You don't know what to call it.

You miss him, too. You just can't put a name to the feeling.)

He doesn't stop seeing you in wisps; little blurs in his peripheral that make his head turn fast as lightning. Wherever he looks, you're gone.

It's not fair that you're a ghost who both literally and figuratively haunts him. He'd like to move on in life and forget about those 4 miserable years he spent living in that damned apartment.

He can't. Sae is incapable of moving on from that place. The irony of it is that you actually can't move on from that place, for some reason.

He would give anything to have you haunting him again. It doesn't matter where in the world the two of you are, if you were together everything would be okay. He's impossibly lonely without you.

You start to think that you're the selfish one.

The idea of leaving this terrible apartment in Madrid scares you to your very core— whatever soul is resting in your incorporeal body. It's not fair to place the blame entirely on Sae. Not when you're too wimpy to leave this place and find him.

Death is lonely without him.

One step forward, one day at a time. It's the advice Sae used to mutter to himself while getting ready in the morning.

One step forward, one day at a time. One step forward, one day at a time. And day by day, you're slowly inching closer to the door.

Sae talks to Rin and all he can think about is your confused smiles and head tilts. He talks to his parents and all he can imagine is how cold the room would be if it were you. He talks to his fucking therapist and thinks that all of her shitty advice can't compare to your quiet understanding— that your tears of solidarity are the only thing that could make him feel better.

It's fucked up, really, that he can't move on. His body is in Japan going through the motions: playing football, being famous, being interviewed and going home to nothing. His heart is in Madrid. You took it with you and refuse to let go.

You're the closest thing to love he's ever felt, perhaps— his only friend in Spain. His only reason not to leave. A ghost from his childhood that protected him in his sleep and ate bland eggs for breakfast across the table from him every morning. A ghost that would sit on the floor and wait for him to come home every day. A ghost that kept him company when he had no one else.

He loves you. He doesn't. He needs you. He doesn't. He misses you. He doesn't. Whatever. What does it matter now?

"So playing football has always been your dream?"

Sae stares blankly at the interviewer. He's reminded of a distant conversation: he is laying in bed looking at a ghost with a lump in his throat, and then he makes his first and only friend in Spain.

"Yes."

"And now that you're back in Japan, will you be playing for the national team?"

"I have no interest in playing on such a weak team." In other words, he has no reason to stay in Japan.

"So where will you go?"

Anywhere but here, he wants to say. In reality, he doesn't know where to go anymore if not to his old apartment in Spain. He just knows that he wants to come home to your sleepy face.

(That night, he makes two bowls of rice. He cries like he's 15 years old again and just ruined his relationship with his brother.)

You've never been outside before.

You've heard about it, almost entirely from Sae but also from little snippets of anime he liked to watch. It's brighter than you imagined it to be, and warmer. You're not sure you've ever felt so warm before— it's hard to when you are a walking freezer.

There isn't anyone to tell you where to go. No one pays you any mind. You wonder if you even exist anymore outside of the small confines of that old apartment.

Something tells you that you do.

You don't know where to start looking. He could be all the way across the globe for all you know, though he did used to talk about his home country.

You have no map. You have no sense of direction. You have no one to ask for help. 

All you have is the soul caged within your ghostly body tugging in one direction, and wispy feet dragging your body along in response.

Sae is 23 years old when he finally signs the contract to play for Japan, after months of being pestered by Rin about it.

His relationship with his brother is complicated. On one hand, he feels as though Rin will never truly forgive him for what he did when he was 15. On the other, he looks so ecstatic to be playing football together again that Sae wonders if their discourse was imaginary.

Japan is just a smidge less lonely with Rin in his life.

He wants to tell you all about it. That everything worked out and it's fine now. That you can stop weeping for him and to wipe up the tears that fall into nothing.

He counts the distance between you. Fourteen thousand kilometres separate him from telling you how he's living his new dream: playing football with his little brother again.

Fourteen thousand kilometers, ten years of needing you, and a reminder set on his phone to buy you a birthday cake again this year.

His heart aches.

Japan is loud and busy and everyone is always in a hurry to get places.

You have to wonder if Sae really grew up in a city like this, and how he turned out so calm and unmovable. The street names are all in Kanji you can't read, but your soul tells you that you're going the right way, anyways.

There's a crowd gathering when your feet finally come to a halt. Lights flash and there are fancy looking people with microphones clamouring toward the center.

It's only a fraction of a second that your eyes meet, and then someone shoves him into the back of the car and they drive off.

He must be famous here, too.

Sae is 24 years old tossing and turning in his bed, wondering if you were just a figment of his imagination or if you were truly standing there under a streetlamp watching him.

It wouldn't be the first time he dreamed you into existence; on some occasions you feel so real that he nearly reaches out to attempt to pat your head, like he always used to do when he was younger.

He goes back to that spot a couple hours later. The crowd is long gone and it's the dead of night— no one would be around to witness Itoshi Sae looking psychotic.

He doesn't find you in that spot. Instead, you're two blocks down and crouched in front of the window of a 24 hour shop. There's an ad for sparklers, and though you can't read the poster itself, the picture makes you stare with wide eyes.

He crouches down beside you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

"Do you want one?" He asks. You look at him in a strange way and his knees grow weak beneath him. You nod.

He comes out five minutes later with a few packs in his hand, walking away from you down the street to the park. You follow him quietly as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

Sae holds one out, flicks the lighter in his pocket open and ignites the first sparkler. You watch it in fascination, ghostly form illuminated in warm orange and yellow light.

He smiles at you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

When the sparkler dies out, he lights another. And another. And another, until he's gone through all the packets he could afford with the Yen in his wallet right now.

As if 7 years of distance never existed between you, he reaches out to pat your head. His hand falls through you.

You think Sae's new apartment is pretentious, but it's clean and open and doesn't smell like mildew.

It's hard to imagine what kind of purpose you had before him— all your memories are flooded with his hands and eyes and bangs and small smiles reserved for you. You think that the only reason you were ever materialized into the mortal plane was to haunt him, and only him. Itoshi Sae's permanent looming presence.

He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, you've noticed he's been smiling more lately since you started waiting for him to come home by the door.

Sae is 25 years old when you fall asleep beside him in his bed.

You don't care that he's a kicker or a blanket hog in his sleep. It's not like either of those would affect you. He watches your sleeping face carefully, waiting to see if he would ever wake up from this blissful dream and be alone again.

But every time he wakes up, there you are.

You've grown since he left you in Madrid— you don't look like some lost little kid anymore, at least. He wonders if your souls are truly so intertwined that you would change alongside him, regardless of the distance.

Your eyes flutter open and his breath catches in his throat. You blink at him slowly in the pale moonlight, brows furrowed.

You point at him. Then yourself.

You. Me.

He nods in understanding.

When he drops a plate of protein pancakes in front of you for breakfast, you look confused.

"Oh, sorry. Do you want rice?"

You shake your head. You don't care what's for breakfast, as long as you're sitting across from him while he eats it.

"I'm going to be the world's best midfielder," he tells you one day. You're on the floor and he's on the couch, and it's like time had never even passed.

You don't know what that means, but it's his dream so it must be important. The most important thing in the world.

What you don't know is that it's not his entire dream. World's best midfielder doesn't mean a thing if he can't come home to tell you all about it.

You are dead.

You're a ghost haunting Itoshi Sae— one that followed him from Madrid all the way to Japan. You don't remember how, or when, or why you died. You can't remember what your face looks like either, no matter how much Sae tries to describe it to you. 

You are dead. You're a ghost knocking over Sae's belongings to get his attention when you want it. You're the ghost curled up in bed with him even though he has to wear two layers to stay warm because of it. You're the ghost watching him rotate through different breakfasts that he says could never compare to a good old warm bowl of rice.

You are a ghost, and Itoshi Sae gave you a name. A birthday. A purpose greater than being a loud nuisance.

You are a ghost who likes to watch him light sparklers on his balcony. Who feels the things described only in the books he reads to you. Who learned to love somewhere along the way.

You are dead, and somehow alive at the same time.

(One day, Sae will be brave. One day, he will tell you he loves you. One day, he will thank you for waiting for him at the door when he comes home.)

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[two-white-butterflies]

violets for roses | c16

Description: Charles breaks up with you in search for higher ground. Where he realizes that he needs you beside him in order to truly win.

Pairing: charles leclerc/neurosurgeon!reader

Rating: Teen [jealousy, angst]

When he told you that he needed space - you gave it to him willingly, without any doubts or questions - because you knew deep inside that he'd come crawling back - that you couldn't live without each other. But when he wanted to make that space permanent? It caught you off guard.

"What do you mean?" you could feel your throat threaten to leak green bile. He seemed calm and composed from the other side of the call - a complete opposite of you. "I don't think that we're going to work in the long term, bebe." he dare used a nickname.

A small shudder escaped your lips.

"I don't understand," you shook your head - playing with the bracelet that he gifted you. "I want to focus on the championship." he began to explain his side of the story, but you couldn't help interrupt him. "Are you calling me a distraction?" you bite your lower lip.

You felt stupid.

Stupid because you weren't aware of his feelings. Unaware of the storm that was brewing inside of his mind. "I'm calling myself easily distracted," he defended you - knowing that half of his heart still belonged to the woman inside of you. "I-I think you're too good for me. You deserve someone who can stand beside you - hold your hand through accomplishments. That's not me." he prefaced.

While you were saving lives - he was toying with his own.

"Look at the future, bebe. Can you see a person who's barely there? I know you - I know that you want to be perfect. You dream about those white fences, a four bedroom house, kids that go to school - I can't give you that." he persuaded you, knowing deep inside his heart that he could give you that.

He could give you the family that you wanted - but he wanted to fix his life first. He wanted to make a name for himself.

"Well, there's no use in trying to force you to do something." you hum, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

"Goodbye, Leclerc." you hang up.

Charles_Leclerc: A single picture, yet it gives me a million emotions. I enjoyed being with you. I enjoyed drinking martinis by the beach and rolling down the sand dunes in Dubai. I enjoyed dancing in Ibiza, and singing down the streets of Los Angeles. I had fun, and I loved you - but good things must come to an end. Thank you, doctora. ❤️

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dr_yn_official: I'll be getting over you, my whole life. Merci du fond du coeur. @Charles_Leclerc

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CHARLES LECLERC AND GIRLFRIEND'S BREAKUP TO MATTY HEALY AND TAYLOR SWIFT SPLIT. (by deuxmoi)

Deuxmoi: Now I got this from one of his girlfriend's close friend, that Charles wanted to focus on the championship while she wanted to focus more on their relationship. A few months before their public breakup, they had a little break (now they didn't specify how long the 'break' lasted but they broke up officially before they got back together).

Unknown: That's shitty, because isn't Charles 25? He's old enough to know that a person should focus on what their girlfriend needs.

Deuxmoi: Yeah! And apparently, he was very 'fuck off' manner and he was all about himself. He was always talking about what he wanted and what he needed.

Unknown: Oh my god!

Deuxmoi: Now I'm gonna start this off by saying that I'm not taking any sides, but my source told me that Y/N was bending over backwards to provide what he needed and wanted. At the end (he spoke up about their faults by phone call by the way) - at the end she just went 'alright i don't wanna make our relationship a favor to you' and broke up with him.

Unknown: She broke up with him?

Deuxmoi: Yes, she did.

"Are you alright?" your co-worker places a hand on your shoulder, seeing that you weren't able to finish the surgery. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stepped into the OR knowing that I'm like this." you sigh, leaning into the cold metal chair. You've seen the tweets about you. You've seen the hashtags on twitter. It wasn't helping.

"It's okay, you're the best surgeon in the hospital - and Dr. Alawi has finished the operation. No harm done - but I will be telling HR." the nurse warns you, and you answer with a nod. Fair is fair. "It's just hard getting over a breakup," you admit - wiping the sweat off your forehead. " -especially when it's with someone I see a future with."

She sits down beside you, offering a bottle of water.

"I don't want to ask anything personal, but if you need someone. I'll be here to help you - I'm sure that you'll see someone better." she comforted. "Lots of fish in the sea." she joked, earning a small laugh.

She glances at you - seeing the sad look on your face.

"Guess what," she smiled and you turned to look at her. "What?" you inquired - watching her open her phone. "You should go on a date, something that'll take your mind off him." she offered, showing you a picture of her cousin. "He's also a neurosurgeon. Dr. Pritchett, you'll love him." she smiled, browsing through his instagram posts.

A sigh escapes your mouth. Anything to get rid of Charles.

"Give me the date, I'll be there." you tell her, and she begins typing on her phone - presumably messaging the man.

The friendship between you and Dr. Pritchett grew with every event that he invited you to join. Soon enough, you find yourself tolerating his company - often leaning into his touch willingly.

"This institution was founded by my grandfather, Mr. Patel. It's helped so much patients that suffer from brain related diseases. I can't imagine a Monaco without it." your date boasted, touring the entire crowd around the tapestries hung around the hospital.

"The number of sponsors and volunteers grow with every month, now thanks to Formula One collaborating with us - we help a lot more people." he chuckled, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back - you almost forgot that your ex-boyfriend was in the crowd.

"It's beautiful here, I didn't expect it to be a hospital." Toto complimented, taking a slow sip of his champagne. He was one of the hospital's biggest donator. Truly, a nice guy. "We wanted it to feel like home." you add - showing them around the new building.

Your eyes trail towards the man beside him - Charles Leclerc.

"It feels like that," he hummed - a small frown on his face. You were getting on his nerves now - and so was the man beside you. "Most of our patients are children, the adults are in the other wing." Dr. Pritchett added, glancing at you. "We tried to make it as colorful as possible, but it's a hospital - decorum is needed." you hum, fingers dancing along the rim of your glass.

Why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

officialyour_name: the annual st. luke's gala. thank you so much to @formulaone and @scuderiaferrari for sponsoring tonight's event. also to the f1 grid who are in full attendance!

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Charles had a lot of guts marching towards you.

"Hey," he breathed seeing that sad pout on your face. "Hey," you smiled at him - surprised to see him walking towards you with such bravery. Didn't he walk out of the door a few months ago?

"You're in a new relationship, huh?" he chuckled bitterly, sitting down on the wooden chair beside you. "Well, it's not a relationship - it's more of a friendship." you admit, doctors and formula one drivers have a lot in common - they both didn't have time for relationships.

Dr. Pritchett saw you as eye-candy. Something to pass time around.

"That relaxes me a bit," he hummed - letting the alcohol take full control of the situation. "I regret breaking up with you, to be honest." he scratched his nose, fearing your response. "Charles, don't." you warn him a disapproving stare.

You already learned from the past - you already let go of your wings in order to fly. He didn't have the right to take that away. He didn't have the right to take away your independence.

"I can't stop thinking about you, and I want to get back - together, bebe." he used the same term of endearment, waiting patiently for your reply. "You can't be serious," you scoff - feeling the eyes on you.

"I'll give you time, but you know how to find me." he stood up.

and you'll always find him.

(ONE YEAR LATER)

officialyour_name: never thought i'd be sharing a candid shot, but here we are ❤️

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"I can never seem to get rid of you," you chuckle - laying on the sand and watching him attempt to make a sand-castle. It's been six months since you last gave him a chance. Twelve months since that fateful gala. You've never been happier. "Well, you're jealous because my sand castles are beautiful." he boasted, filling it with water.

"Sure, bebe." you teased.

He's changed a lot. He's more honest with his feelings. He talks to you about his problems - instead of keeping it to himself.

He wasn't a good boyfriend before - but he was a great boyfriend now.

Charles_Leclerc: We gave it a bit of thinking, and we realized that we look better together. I realized that I'm better with her. Cheers to dancing in Ibiza, singing down L.A, slipping down Dubai, and drinking Martinis by the beach. @officialyour_name

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soldforparts12: YES! I KNEW THAT THIS WOULD HAPPEN

officialyour_name: I LOVE YOU

officialyour_name: We look better in RED. Missed you, drama king.

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[rageprufrock]

I had to write this down so it would stop being inside of my brain--devil judge stupidity

I have a clinical dx that proves I lack the emotional self regulation to stop myself from doing stupid things and I just really really want to write something funny okay!!!! No clue if this is going anywhere. I have approx 100 ideas right now and can't be held responsible for my actions.

Actually, the whole thing is Elijah's fault, because if she exercised any of the restraint she used on the Korean-speaking internet for her English language shitposting accounts, they wouldn't be in this mess at all.

That said, she'll argue to the death that if her shitty uncle is going to subject her to his sweaty, old man chest and walk around the house after one of his workouts dripping sweat with his workout pants half-hanging off of his ass, she's going to shame him like truth coming out of her Instagram.

Unfortunately, the general reaction to her caption ("god my uncle is so gross") turns out to be a tsunami of absolutely unhinged horny commentary from a community she'd previously believed to be upright, clear-minded young women with promising careers in STEM. There's a run on eggplant emojis. There are so many eyeballs. Prayer hands left and right. People are calling Yohan "daddy" in sixteen languages.

It's funny in an absolutely repulsive way, and here, even Elijah has to admit to culpability, because in retrospect, when someone had commented, "so can your auntie fight?" she absolutely should not have posted a picture of Gaon from his army service, sun bronzed with his arms out, and said, "lol yeah."

Yohan works approximately 18 hours a day with breaks for the gym, to psychologically torture her over dinner, and an hour where Elijah puts on her noise canceling headphones and assiduously does not listen to whatever the fuck is happening down the hall in his bedroom. But he's also the nosiest, most intrusive person on the face of the earth with a squadron of terminally online assistants so it's only a matter of time before he's going to find out he's now internet famous and that there's an AO3 tag for "hot uncle/soldier boy (not The Boys)" and destroys all of her electronic equipment.

Gaon, who hasn't logged into social media in like three years, could feasibly go to his grave not knowing--except that he works in the juvenile court system which means she's not totally surprised when he comes home on Tuesday with a weird look on his face and says:

"Elijah, I think we've been hacked," he says, because he's a genuinely nice person who must have committed some kind of heinous crime in a past life to attract Kangs left and right. "I think someone got into our phones, or our wifi. One of my clients showed me a post today that looks like someone stole a CCTV picture of Yohan, and then posted some old picture from when I was in the army."

Elijah is listening with an active grimace on her face, trying to decide what to say and how to say it, when the SmartHome speaker crackles to life and Yohan's voice echoes out of it, saying:

"Kang Elijah, did you out Gaon and I with your fake instagram."

[melehound]

141 + König catch you staring! GN READER!

Cw: a little cursing I got a little mess with this one 💀

Kyle “gaz” garrick

He’s so cocky 🙄

He thinks his physique is very impressive and he works out a lot (every time he sees a mirror he stands in front of it flexing and checking himself out for 5 straight minutes 💀) so when he catches you staring he feels validated

The second he catches you staring he can’t help but smile like a dork

After that he starts snapping you those shirtless pics in front of his mirror randomly like “whoops didn’t mean to send those to you my bad lol haha 😛” like mf yes you did 💀

John price

He does it on purpose he’s been doing it since you met him he just looks at you to make SURE your watching and then will start working out (he has a makeshift gym in his cold ass basement)

If your in a relationship with him you always know where to find him if he’s not in the bathroom manscaping he’s in his cold ass basement working his ass off

He likes when you watch him work out it makes him feel great about himself and he’ll say something like “I’ve still got it, yeah?” When he catches you staring

John “soap” mactavish

Turns it into a full flexing contest with himself he turns you into his mirror

He really likes to work out he’s not like a gym bro or anything but he likes it enough to do it outside of work biweekly

Sometimes before you pick him up from work he’ll be all sweaty because he wants to take a shower with you after working out but he’s a big fan of sending you shirtless pics with 0 context or warning

You can be in the middle of cooking dinner and he’ll send you like 5 different pictures of him flexing and posing in the gym mirror for absolutely no reason

Simon “ghost” Riley

Genuinely either didn’t know that you stare or he’s doing all this physical stuff in front of you on purpose it could be a mood thing

Like if you walk in on him lifting he’s not worried about you looking but if you were to be hanging out with him and THEN he’d start working out then that’s a sign he wants to see if you’ll stare but it looks like hes the one staring and he’s still wearing his mask so it’s so obvious when he’s staring 👁👁

He’s scaring you a lil bit it turns into a little bit of a staring contest (he almost drops a weight on his foot because he’s not paying attention)

After that he’d try and do what gaz did but he’s a little worried because his old broken decrepit ass phone has such shitty quality but somehow you can see all the scars on his ribs and torso so when he takes shirtless pictures he looks like a red room victim

König

He also takes so much pride in his body type it makes him feel more confident sometimes he thinks his physique is slipping because of how much he likes to eat

So when he catches you staring he gets a little burst of confidence and maybe he’ll flex at you a little bit MAYBE

But most of his happiness is inward he thinks about it before he goes to sleep that night smiling kicking his feet like a teenage boy and he tried to send you shirtless pics on snap but he was sweating his ass off and his hands were all wet and he chickened out

((✿: “she’s gotta be running out of cute hello kitty stuffed animal headers!” think again mfs))