#it’ll be lovely to hear why you support them

[bellenotthebeast]

Hello.

I want you to listen. Don’t scroll away because of the buzz word ‘Lando’.

Listen.

This has gone beyond hate for Lando. This about all the drivers.

This is about treating drivers respectfully. This is about your parasocial relationships with the drivers. This is about you reading into everything they say.

This is about the F1 media taking clips out of context because they don’t want a race they want a drama.

This is about you taking those clips and not bothering to find the original source, and taking it to fuel a hatred for someone you don’t know.

This is about you hating on a new driver because you miss the old one.

This is about you sending hate to fans of a driver you don’t like.

When I dislike something I scroll- I ignore, because it’s not worth my time. Why should I let the social media algorithm think I like the video because I watch it? I block a person I dislike. I don’t go onto their account and spend time out of my life to comment.

But unfortunately the amount of hate I’m seeing it’s getting hard to ignore it.

Haters and fans. Opposite end of the spectrum, still on the same spectrum.

You’re still thinking about the guy you supposedly hate. You talk about him under other driver related posts, you make it your entire personality.

You make it toxic.

The difference in drivers is what makes the sport fun. I’m friends with people who have other favourite drivers. What we do is we talk about the race. We talk about how their driver did really well and what mine could’ve done better. We have fun.

Because it’s the sport that bonds us.

I don’t send death threats to them. People have become so obsessed with other peoples lives and it shows.

A driver can’t say he feels lonely without getting jumped on for it. A driver gets asked his opinion after a high adrenaline race, one he feels he didn’t do well and he sounds a little bitter. Of course he’s going to. Yet you read into it.

He celebrates and you read into it.

And then dislike them when they decide not to do anything anymore.

You criticise them for the mistakes they’ve already owned up to and refuse to even acknowledge the good they’ve achieved.

New fans get scared to join because they worry everyone will hate them. Which kills the sport in turn.

Lando. Max. Every single driver on the grid do not know you. And you do not know them. You know of them. You do not know them.

You do not know what they do or who they are the moment they’re away from the cameras.

You do not need to like a driver. Nor do you need to dislike them. I don’t dislike drivers, I just have drivers I favour a bit more than others. Because why would I hate them?

I dislike some of the things they do- during the race. Of course. I’m bitter after a race doesn’t go well. I’m a fan of the sport.

But that’s as far as it goes.

I do not care for their personal life as it’s theirs, nor do I care for what minuscule thing they’ve done.

If you don’t feel called out, then good- I’m not talking about you. You’re the good ones. If you are feeling ‘attacked’ then perhaps it’s time to rethink what you want to spend limited time, that is your life, on.

We only have so many minutes in our lives to actually live. So live it. Don’t spend it on hating on others.

Good day/night. 😊

[reignpage]

Perverted things JJK men do (established relationship)

Gojo

Cums in your conditioner bottle. He loves knowing that you wear him with you every day, that when people brush against you and inhale your sweet scent, they’re also smelling him. Satoru likes to think that it sends, on a cellular level perhaps, a message telling them you’re taken, by him. 

Intent on keeping this a secret, he does the grocery shopping every time you let him know you’re running out. Unscrewing the bottle, he places the head of his cock into the hole just as he’s about to reach his peak, jerking his long and pink cock off as fast as he can, biting his bottom lip to keep from making a noise that might alert you to the depravity that’s going on in the bathroom. 

Then, once he’s spilled his seed, he screws the lid back on and shakes vigorously to ensure it’s all mixed in properly and that every pump will have his cum in it. Satoru counts the hours until you excuse yourself to the bathroom and waits, in anticipation and with a leaky cock, for you to emerge all fresh and brand spanking new.

He’s never once told anyone else this, and he himself does not understand why he feels the urge to be so perverted. Sometimes he wonders how you’d react if he told you. Would you get mad? Make him stop? Or maybe you’d find it hot or adorable?

Whatever it’ll be, Satoru’s not eager to find out anytime soon. So, he continues his routine, smiles when you get a compliment on your hair, and frowns when you say you want to stop using hair conditioner and wear a hair mask instead.

What the heck is a hair mask?

Geto

Takes advantage of your sleeping form. It started off completely innocent. He just liked watching the faces you make: your brows furrow when you’re having a nightmare, your bottom lip quivers when you exhale just a little too hard, and you sometimes smile when you’re having a dream he can only hope involves him. 

But then, the urge to do something darker, something secretive overwhelmed him. At night, you’re completely vulnerable. He loves pushing what he can get away with. He’ll manoeuvre your body into positions he likes — arms wide open so he can see your breasts press against the thin confines of your tank top, nipples hard and poking through; legs spread and feet together in a butterfly position so he can see your panties tight against your pussy lips, the imprints defined and he can run his finger down the seam, pressing harder where your clit is just to hear your gasp; and keeping your body still so he can pull the neckline of your tank top down, baring your beautiful tits to the night air and wrap them around his cock.

He juts between the valley, tip knocking into your chin and leaving a wet trail that breaks off as he pulls back just to thrust forward again. Careful not to thrust too hard, lest the bed creaks and you're jostled awake, he uses the immorality of his act to get himself going, knowing that you're vulnerable to his ministrations. But Suguru isn't a bad boyfriend, so he leans back and presses hard against your pussy, rubbing you to an orgasm only your sleeping form can appreciate.

Ever the gentleman, he cums into a tissue and not into your mouth, and only then can he fall asleep beside you. Then, in the morning, he shrugs when you wonder why you're always soaked in the morning. Must have had a wet dream, he says.

Choso

Takes your dirty panties with him for moral support. You don’t know he does this and he’d very much like to keep it that way in case you chalk it up to him being a curse and not knowing what's right and wrong. He knows it's wrong. The truth is, he just really really likes you. Loves you, in fact. So, he sneakily steals a panty or two from the laundry basket and stuffs them in his pockets. 

There’s just something about being able to carry you with him whenever he goes. Whether, it’s whilst he’s in the car, sparring, or on a mission. He can take a piece of you out and inhale your scent, bask in your sweetness, and memorise every part of you to heart. 

Of course, his intentions aren’t entirely romantic and pure. He also really likes to jerk off with your used panties wrapped around his cock. It’s shameful and embarrassing and so depraved, he knows that, but that’s precisely what gets him going. Knowing you’d be shocked bye the extent of his adoration for you makes him thrust faster. He imagines you watching, with that saccharine sweet voice, telling him to show you just how much he loves you. And he never wants to disappoint you, so in the car, parked somewhere dark, he presses the cold, wet spot of the gusset to his nose and takes a long and deep inhale. 

The car shakes with the ferocity of his jerking. One hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white and the other holding your panties to his cock head, connecting his tip to where you were and imagining that it’s your pussy wrapped around him. The scent, the wetness, the wrongness of it all makes him cum harder than he should. And just in time to pick you up too. This way when he gets to have the real thing with you, he’ll last longer. 

Toji

Pisses you off on purpose. Can’t blame him. You’re so fucking adorable when you’re mad. Seriously. You make this pouting face when you think whatever excuse he’s giving you is complete and utter bullshit, which it is. Then, you’ll cross your arms, pushing those bouncy tits up, foot tapping and accentuating your long legs. Stomping around and yelling as if you know what you’re doing. You should know by now that raising your voice only gets him hard. And damn, when you smack his chest to get his attention, it makes his dick jump in his boxers. 

Leaving the toilet seat up or not using a coaster, all of it irks you and gets him going. Of course, he doesn’t do it often; you’ll goddamn leave him if he did, that’s for sure. So, he saves his little tricks up his sleeve for when he’s really horny. Like now, when he didn’t take the meat out of the freezer to defrost in time for when you came home. You’re talking his ear off about how irresponsible he is, shrugging off your work clothes one by one until you’re left in a white button up and just panties, completely blind to how he’s grinning ear to ear, watching you bend over, showing him the smooth, round fats of your ass. 

God, he loves the infuriated look on your face. You’re fuming. The best part about it all is the angry sex you’re about to have. Maybe you like to get mad at him for the same reason. Maybe you hope, as you walk up to the door of your house, that he’s fucked up something, anything. And who is he to deny you? So, with faux indignation, he grabs you by the throat and hisses for you to shut the fuck up, get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours. Put it to better use than yapping, he says, eyes rolling back at the intensity of your suction.

Nanami

Swaps out your birth control for sugar pills. He knows it���s wrong. God, does he ever. But the temptation is too hard to resist. Kento’s already pushing it with the fact that he convinced you to get on the pill so you can make love with no barrier between you two but he just had to go a step further and make sure that the pill is useless. 

It only started recently. He just wanted to fuck once knowing he could be making you a mommy at any given moment. The thought of you all plump and round with his child drives him crazy. It makes him rut into you with no rhyme or rhythm, just pushing the overflowing cum he’s already pumped in there deeper into your pussy, tutting when they spill out of you. Thumbing the errant drops, he tells you to open up and pushes it down your throat; if his cum won’t go into your womb then it should go into your stomach, right?

The tears in your eyes from the overstimulation makes his cock throb. This one of the very rare moments he ever allows himself to make you cry and he imagines you'll also cry tears of joy when you find out you're pregnant with his child, and again when the baby, a little girl he hopes, is in your arms.

Kento knows he’ll be good to you. He’ll be so good. He’ll massage your swollen feet, waddle you over to the toilet, pulling your panties down for you when you can’t, tending to every craving no matter how odd and no matter at what time. You know he’ll be a good father — he’s sweet, caring, firm when needed, reliable and dependable. So, he reasons that you won’t mind if his seed does take hold. 

You love raw sex just as much as he does, after all. 

Sukuna

Makes you think he’s going to kill you. He has no remorse. The high is incredible. You have a penchant for pissing him off, so when his irritation finally boils over, you see a glint in his eyes and a tick in his jaw that very much tells you one thing: run. 

Of course, he has a soft spot for you so he gives you a head start. He’s a monster, not a man. Every part of him is attune to his surroundings. He knows every inch of the estate and better yet, he knows you. Where you like to hide, where you think he’d think to look, and where your little legs could take you in the short time he gave you. Sukuna could seek you out immediately, but the fun isn’t in the victory. It’s in the conquest. 

Voice loud, he taunts, ��I can smell your fear, woman. I can hear your pathetic quivering. I know where you are. And when I find you, I’m going to tear you to pieces.”

For the effect, he even picks up an unnecessary weapon. A stoke or an axe, something that will make a chilling noise as he drags it along the wooden floor or scrape it against the wall, letting you know he’s getting closer and closer. His cock is throbbing in his robes, heavy and swinging, as he takes a deep inhale of the fear permeating the air. It’s salty from the sheer prospect of pain and death, but also sweet because it’s undeniably yours. 

Entering your chambers, he rolls his eyes at how utterly predictable, and foolish, you are. You clear haven’t learnt from any of the stupid horror movies you’ve forced him to watch — hiding under the bed is the worst thing you can do. He reminds you of that when his big hand wraps around your ankle, fondling the frail bone, and tugs. Sukuna rejoices, and leaks cum, at the blood curdling cream you let out. 

You dangle in the air as his monstrous form towers over you. When he sniffs at your pussy and smells the juices you’re leaking out too, he knows you get off on the thrill too, and perhaps, that’s the real reason he loves this so much.

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid - Part 4

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 2245

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: Thank you for the continued support! You all make my day with your comments and theories. :)

Read part 3 here.

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

You sit at the kitchen table nervously, drumming your fingers on the wood. You knew Wanda would be home late–she never had the respect to give you a proper timeline for her outings. The clock tells you that it’s a little past midnight, and sleepiness burns in the corners of your eyes, but you told yourself you aren’t going to bed until this is all over. 

You run the lines over in your head. What you want to say to her exactly, what you’ll counter with if she reacts well or poorly. You’ve waited long enough to have this conversation, perhaps too long, but Natasha finally gave you the push you needed.

“Do you still love her?” Natasha asks softly after you tell her the whole story of your wife’s philandering. 

You don’t answer. Deep down, you know your love for her was being tested to its breaking point, and you weren’t so sure it would survive after this. “I’ll talk to her tonight, when she comes home,” you say. “You should probably go home. I can’t imagine it’ll be a pretty conversation.”

“I’ll stay if you want me to,” Natasha insists. “You shouldn’t be alone to do something like that.” Your heart melts, and for a moment you want to get up and kiss her. Not that you wanted to pull a Wanda, but you couldn’t ignore how beautiful and generous your maid was. She was excellent at her job; never complained and went above and beyond, even when your wife was being a total bitch. She treated you with the respect and kindness you deserved. She was everything you wanted in a partner and more. 

But you were stuck with Wanda. For now, at least.

“Are you sure? Wanda might be home late and I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay just for me,” you say. 

“It’s fine. She won’t even know I’m here. I can leave out the back door,” Natasha says.

“Thank you, Natasha.” Her support means more to you than you’re allowed to express. 

“You’re welcome.”

Now, with Natasha hiding in the kitchen, the two of you wait.

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

You accidentally doze off and wake with a start when you hear the garage door open. For a moment, you don’t even remember where you are or why.

“Natasha? Are you still here?” you whisper as loud as you dare.

“Yes.” Her head pokes out from around the corner of the kitchen.

Relief fills you. You were worried she would ditch you after all, not that you would’ve blamed her in the slightest. “Wanda’s home,” you tell her, and she nods and disappears again. At least you didn’t have to face your wife entirely alone.

You sit rigidly still on the couch until your wife walks in, almost passing you at first. 

“You’re back,” you say, and she jumps, reaching for the light switch and revealing you on the couch.

“I said I’d be back tonight,” she says.

“Who were you out with?”

“My girlfriends.”

“No.” You stand up and walk over to her. You are a great deal taller than her and for once she looks like she feels her size around you. “Who did you go out with tonight?”

Wanda doesn’t make eye contact with you. “You know…Carol, Darcy–”

“Are you fucking them too?”

“Excuse me?” Wanda draws back from you until she bumps into the bookshelf.

“You heard me,” you say through clenched teeth. “Were you fucking them too?”

“No. Why the hell would you think that?”

“Because I know you spend all your free time fucking anything that moves behind my back.”

The silence in the air is electric. Your heart is thundering in your chest so hard you wonder if Natasha can hear it. Wanda’s eyes widen. 

“I...I’ve never done that,” she says, but her falter shows her lie. “How dare you suggest–”

You take your phone out and show Wanda the screen. She squints at it in confusion at first, then a shadow of horror passes over her face when she realizes it’s the camera view from the little ceramic turtle you planted in the china cabinet, now showing the two of you standing there.

“You hid a camera in my own home–” Wanda starts.

“I hid a shit ton of cameras in our home,” you say. 

“So this is why your business is failing,” she cackles, and the switch in topic throws you for a loop. “You spend all day watching and stalking me in our home when you’re supposed to be working. No wonder you don’t bring home any money. Not only are you a shitty spouse, you’re also a shitty worker.”

Anger explodes inside of you, and for a moment your control slips. You lunge for Wanda, not even sure what you’ll do once you grab her, but she slams her palms to your chest and sends you staggering back. She turns and yanks a book off the shelf, removing a revolver from the pages and pointing it towards you with trembling hands.

“Don’t get any closer to me, you fucking creep!” she yells.

Your anger dissolves into concern. “Put the gun down, Wanda. Please. Let’s just talk about this like adults–”

“Oh, now you want to talk like adults?” Wanda laughs manically. “Where was this before you started illegally recording me in my own home?”

“You’re fucking cheating on me!” you scream, losing your composure again. “I moved us into this big house, in this nice neighborhood, and you’re just so fucking ungrateful for any of it!”

“I didn’t want any of it to begin with!” Wanda returns.

“Why not? Because you had to leave behind your fuck buddies in our old neighborhood?”

“You’re the exact same person here as you were over there. A self-righteous piece of shit,” she seethes.

“If you’re so sick of me, why don’t you divorce me?” you ask. “Oh wait.” You snap your fingers. “I bet no one would want to sleep with a washed-up divorcee. Because where’s the fun in that?”

Wanda turns the gun around and points it at her temple. “I’ll kill myself if you divorce me,” she says, then shifts the gun to point towards her chest, “But I’ll make it look like you did it.”

The blood in your veins chills at the thought. “Give me the gun, Wanda.”

“Take it from me,” she goads.

While you have very little confidence in your disarming tactics, you do know you’re stronger and faster than Wanda. You also don’t fully believe that she’ll kill herself right here, so that gives you an advantage of time. 

Before a plan even forms in your head, you reach out with your arm and slap Wanda’s hand away from her head. She startles and drops the gun; you expect her to dive after it but instead she whirls around and punches you in the face. Despite all of her faults, she’s never outright hit you before, and your vision swims as your head whiplashes against the bookshelf. 

“You crazy motherfucker,” Wanda screeches, punching you again and you fall to the floor, instinctively curling into a ball to protect yourself. Her foot slams into your ribs and for a second, you can’t believe you’re getting the beating of a lifetime from your own wife.

Meanwhile, Natasha is in utter shock at the events unfolding in front of her. She feels like she’s overstepping some serious boundaries, but she can’t leave you now, especially with Wanda having the upper hand. 

“Wanda, stop!” she hears you gasp as Wanda grabs hold of Crime and Punishment uses it like a weapon, raising it behind her head and smashing it against your body over and over. Natasha can’t bear to stand there anymore. She has to protect you from your insane, deranged wife.

Natasha crosses the living room in four leaping strides and picks up the revolver. Wanda looks shocked more by her presence than the fact that she’s now staring down the barrel of her own gun. 

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” Wanda says.

“Get away from Y/N,” Natasha says, holding the gun in both hands. The weight feels disconcertingly familiar, and despite her nerves, she isn’t shaking.

“Are you fucking her?” Wanda suddenly turns to you. “You’ve got some nerve watching me get it on with the neighbors when you’ve been fucking our maid–”

“Shut up!” Natasha yells. “I’m not doing anything with Y/N!” she says, although she wishes that wasn’t the truth.

“I don’t believe that.” Wanda marches over to Natasha, leaving you unraveling on the floor. Blood drips from your nose and mouth, and Natasha can see the purpling bruise on your cheek. “Vision told me Y/N took you to see Wicked on my anniversary–”

“Because you couldn’t be bothered to remember and go yourself!” Natasha says.

Wanda is too enraged to quiet. “How dare you enter my house, take advantage of my kindness, and take my partner to bed–”

“Back off!” Natasha says, raising the gun until it’s almost level with Wanda’s eyes. “Not everyone is a cheating whore like you.”

Both Wanda and Natasha seem shocked by her choice of words. Natasha’s arms shake as they drop a few inches. She won’t hold back anymore–but neither will Wanda.

“You little bitch.” Wanda draws her arm back. Natasha flinches and squeezes the trigger.

BANG.

The gunshot is much, much louder in an enclosed space, and Natasha’s ears ring so hard they hurt. Wanda stands before her, her jaw dropped in shock. A stain of blood grows on her shirt, centered over her bellybutton. 

“Oh my God. Wanda, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Natasha gasps, unable to wrap her head around her own actions. 

“You…You shot me,” Wanda says, grabbing her stomach as she falls. Natasha tries to catch her but misses; you appear behind Wanda and lower her slowly to the floor. “How is that possible?” She looks up at you and your face is pale with shock. “You fucking shot me!”

“Nat,” you whisper. “Nat, give me the gun.”

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” Natasha cries, handing you the weapon and backing away from the two of you. “I thought she was going to hit me and–”

“It’s okay.” You stand up, wobbling a little, and rush to her side. “Go home Nat, okay? Go through the back door and jump the fences if you have to. And if anyone asks where you were tonight, you weren’t here.”

“No, no.” Natasha fights the tears threatening to spill out. “That’s wrong. I did this, I want to take responsibility for it–”

“No,” you say. “With your background, you’ll be locked in prison the rest of your life, if you don’t get deported first.”

“M-My background?” Natasha stammers. “How do you know about–”

You shake your head, indicating now is not the time to have this discussion. “For the record, it never made me trust you any less.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” You reach out and grab her hand. It calms Natasha instantly. “Go now. Let me handle this. I’ll come find you when this is all over.”

“I’m so sorry,” Natasha sobs.

“It wasn’t your fault. Now get out of here, please!”

Natasha doesn’t wait to hear you instruct her again. She looks at you, her savior, one last time, completely ignoring Wanda laying on the floor, before dashing off towards the garage. It’s pitch-black, but she doesn’t dare turn on a light, and fumbles for the back door. Outside, the air is nippy and her breath clouds in front of her face. She takes a deep breath to orient herself, then runs headfirst towards the neighbor’s fence, hauling herself over it as quietly as she can, crossing their yard, and leaping over the next fence. 

She has to jump over two more yards before she gets to the street, racing to her Nissan and peeling away down the street. In the safety of her car, the realization crashes over her and she can’t stop the waterworks. 

She can’t believe she shot your wife. She can’t believe you knew her background. Clint had told her no one would find out what she had done in Russia after she assumed a new identity, but you had found out somehow. And yet, you were still okay hiring her even after you knew she had killed her former boss. 

The sounds of sirens pierce her thoughts and Natasha seizes up. A black-and-white police car races by. Either you had called them, or a neighbor had heard the shouting and gunshot. Natasha prays her presence had gone undetected. She had never been more thankful Wanda forced her to park down the street, where her car was less likely to be seen. 

She wonders if she’ll ever get to see you again.

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

After Natasha leaves, you take a moment to absorb your surroundings. Wanda is gurgling and crying on the floor, pressing her palms against her stomach, blood spilling through her fingers and on the tiles Natasha had mopped earlier that day.

Your grip tightens on the gun as you move to stand over Wanda, where she can fully see you. Your body throbs where she hit you, and you know you don’t look much better than her. Blood bubbles out of her mouth. She can’t speak anymore, but her eyes are fiery and pleading.

You lift the gun, which feels like a thousand pounds in your hand.

“Someone should’ve done this a long time ago.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Welp, that escalated quickly. Will Wanda live? Should she?? 👀

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[paarksunghoon]

part two for this (https://www.tumblr.com/paarksunghoon/764887604741210112/heeseung-with-a-corruption-kink-and-maybe-size?source=share) please…Heeseung corrupting her into fucking 🤤

part 2 to this drabble

warnings: subtle (?) manipulation but not really because she wants it, she’s just shy

***

Heeseung’s got you on your back with the pillows situated underneath your head for support while he leans down to kiss your lips once before pulling back. He’s bare from the waist down and all you’re wearing is sheer tank top. His breath touches your lips. Paired with the way his dick is sliding between your folds, it almost makes you feel like you’re losing your mind.

“Let me stick it in,” he whispers, pushing his lips to kiss your neck softly. His feather-like touches make you shiver.

You don’t say anything yet. The boy on top of you keeps his ear close to your mouth and your soft whimpers make him hornier by the second. You hear the wet splashes and how it sounds as he glides right against your wet pussy, and it almost convinced you to give in.

“It’ll feel so good,” he says against your neck. “Are you scared, baby?”

“A little…”

Heeseung brings his head up and pushes your bottom lip with his thumb as his dick catches your clit. “Are you a virgin?”

You shake your head. “It’s just…it’s been a while.” Heeseung grunts from above you. His warm cock feels alright against you. You’d probably be really tight, tighter than the girls he sleeps with.

“I’ll make it feel like the first time.” He grinds even slower, letting his dick make its way up to nudge your clit at its own pace. “I’ll make you come as many times as you want, I swear.”

You bite your lip and look up at the ceiling. “You already do.”

“Mm, yeah I do. But I’ll make you come with my dick inside of you. Don’t you want to feel good too?”

“I don’t know…”

“I love grinding, don’t get me wrong, but…” Heeseung lifts his hips just high enough to rest the tip of his dick against your hole. “Grinding only does so much, ya know? Fucking though…your pussy’s gonna love it.” He pushes the head inside and loves the way you gasp and clench his biceps.

Ever since that might a few weeks ago, Heeseung hasn’t been able to get you anywhere farther than grinding, sometimes with or without clothes. He has his share of girls to hookup with when he needs hard and fast sex, but he can’t deny that the slow pace you set keeps him on his toes. He loves that lovey dovey shit in between his rough hookups but he won’t admit that to you. You’re a pallet cleanser for him.

He thinks he might be addicted to the change in pace when he’s with you because you don’t really expect him to be anything or anyone when you’re both together. You let yourself be pleasured in a way other girls don’t. Heeseung enjoys the high intensity he gets with other people but, mostly, he likes that he doesn’t have to think too hard when he’s with you. It’s probably why he keeps coming back even though you haven’t let him fuck you yet. So far, you’re the only person who can get him to stop what he’s doing or leave whoever he’s with for the chance to actually hook up.

“See?” Heeseung says when you clench around his tip. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…” His tongue licks against yours and captures another moan from you when he starts to thrust only his cock head into you.

“You’d love the way I fuck.” Something about your silence and compliance underneath him makes him crazy. Heeseung seems to let go of his demanding person when he’s got you in his bed and finds himself talking you through it.

“Oh yeah?”

Heeseung smirks against you. Hook, line, and sinker. “Yeah. I know you want that kind of sex, baby. I feel it every time you sit on my lap and get yourself off.” You feel him push another inch in when he speeds up his hips. “I’ll make you come as many times as you want. I promise.”

“Do you…do this? With other girls?”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow. “Do what? Fuck?”

You look always. “N-No…do you make them cream?” He pushes even more of himself inside you just thinking about it.

“All the time,” he moans. “Love it when my girls get all wet like that. It’ll be hot when you do it too.” You clench again. “Ohhh. That felt good. Do you like it when I talk about how I fuck?”

You suck even more of him inside of you. He grins wickedly. “You’re so dirty, aren’t you? My shy little thing, have you been hiding?” Heeseung laughs. “I prep them all nice so they’re sopping wet. Some like it when I fuck them dry at first. Others like it when I show no mercy and make them all creamy.

“Everyone loves it when I come inside, though. They always tell me it feels so good. It’s good for me, too. Love watching it drip out of their pussies.”

Your legs wrap around his body as his hand comes to grip one of yours. Heeseung pushes the rest of himself all the way in and drinks in the way you moan into his mouth. His pelvis touches yours and he grunts right into you.

“I like the slow sex with you, though,” he says honestly. There’s a lot of truth behind it, even if he can’t figure out why. “I don’t do the whole kissing thing, you know. Just with you.”

You snort. “Sure.”

“It’s true.” He bends down to kiss you and mumbles against your lips. “I’ve wanted your pussy around me more than anything.”

You barely speak above a whisper. “I want you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung picks up the pace and feels your chest bounce against him. “Want my dick?” He moves like he’s on autopilot when you nod, keeping the slower pace until you give him a signal to go faster. “We’ll get you up there soon.”

“To where?”

He chuckles. “Rough sex, sweetheart. I know you want it. You clench every time I talk about it.”

“Mm, yeah…”

“Don’t worry, baby.” He kisses your lips again. “It’ll take some time but that’s okay, right? I’ll have you get used to me until you’re ready. We can practice until you get there.”

“We can?”

His cock slides in and out of you like some kind of physical prayer. “As much as you want, sweetheart. All day and all night. Whenever you want.”

You don’t say anything. He feels your arms encircling his shoulders and that tells him everything he needs to know. Speeding up his hips, Heeseung fucks you well into the night and you lose count of how many times he makes you come.

Despite himself, he stays the night.

***

[moonstruckme]

I love your work! I spent so long yesterday reading through just about all of them and you are an incredible writer! I have a request but regardless if you want to write it, I can’t wait to read what you write next!!

Request: I would love to have a fic with any of the marauders (+lily) (single or poly pairings) that are helping the reader on a bad chronic illness day. Due to their chronic illness, the reader’s body feels really weak so they need help from their partner(s).

Thanks so much angel! <3

cw: unspecified chronic illness, only explicit specificity is that reader has really low energy as a result of it

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 743 words

Sometimes, James can’t help but stop and think about how ridiculously lucky he is. He was worried about you all day at work—you weren’t feeling well when he left that morning, though you’d claimed you were going to take it easy—but there’s no sweeter sight to come home to than you and Lily curled up together on the bed, your head on her chest and her fingers in your hair. James’ heart slows to a lovesick thump-thump as he watches you. 

“Do you think you have the energy for a shower?” Lily murmurs. 

You make a small sound to the negative. 

“No? Okay.” Lily kisses your hairline, consoling. “How about a bath, love?” 

Her eyes flicker up to James, telling him she’s heard his entry whereas you seem not to have. The sad uptilt of her lips tells him you’ve had as hard a day as he worried you might. He takes off his shoes, moving toward you. 

“I could wash your hair for you,” Lily goes on, coaxing. “Add some of those oils you like.” 

James is just barely close enough to hear your mumbled reply. “I don’t know if there’s time.”

“There’s always time for a nice bath, isn’t there?” he asks lightly. Grins when you look up, noticing him. “Hi, angel.” 

“Hi.” You sit up for a kiss. James meets you halfway, folding an arm around your back to help support you. 

He gives Lily a kiss, too, sparing an extra for the worried line between her brows. 

“What are we worried about time for?” he asks. 

“She wants to go to dinner with her friend’s mum.” 

“I don’t want to,” you say, sinking back against Lily’s front the way Remus sinks into his chair after a long, long day, “I’m supposed to.” 

James feels his lips tug. “Well, there you have it, lovie. You don’t want to, so don’t.” 

“She’s visiting from out of town, and she asked to see me,” you mumble. You seem reluctant, like you’re fighting for a cause you don’t truly believe in yourself. “It’d be rude not to go.” 

“It’s not rude. You don’t have the energy for a shower,” Lily reminds you gently. “It doesn’t make any sense for you to go.” 

Your lips pull down, fretfulness lined with resignation. 

“Do you know where she’s staying?” James asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why don’t we give her a ring at her hotel, then, and let her know you’re not feeling well. I’m sure she’ll understand.” 

You look to be gnawing the inside of your lip, but James recognizes the slow wash of relief over your features. “Okay. That could work.” 

“It’ll work great. And then, say, you could think on what might sound good to you for dinner here at home.” James begins tracing the planes of your face as he talks, down your cheekbone from the corner of your eye, up the bridge of your nose, and across your opposite eyebrow. “I’ll go to the store once you decide, and you two can have your bath while I whip dinner up for us. Okay?” 

Lily holds you to her so she can lean forward without jostling you, kissing James ardently on his cheek. 

“I think that’s a lovely plan,” she says while he grins. 

You’re smiling, too, looking at them with much the same expression James imagines he wore when he came home to find the two of you together. “You don’t have to go to the store,” you say. “We have food here, don’t we?” 

“Probably,” James agrees. “But you’ve had a long day, you deserve to have whatever you want for dinner. At the least.” 

You open your mouth, but James speaks again. 

“And if you say you want frozen lasagna or butter on toast or the leftovers from last night, I won’t believe you.” 

Your smile goes sheepish, caught. 

“Why don’t you think on that,” Lily suggests, “and James, could you bring me the phone book so I can look up the hotel?” 

“Be right back,” he says, kissing both you and Lily again before he hops up. Lily takes his jaw in her hand, kissing him hard and with gratitude. It’s the sort of kiss that leaves James trying to blink himself back into focus as he leaves the room. 

He must look it, too, because your laugh, arguably the loveliest sound on Earth, follows him out. “Thanks, Jamie,” you say. 

Yeah, James is definitely the luckiest guy in the world.

[wendichester]

I've been reading your stuff all day, and I LOVE it omg

Could you maybe write something where reader is a hunter who works with Sam and Dean from time to time but they don't know each other that well and one day when they come back from a hunt she kind of hurries off because she doesn't want them to know that she can't afford a motel room. But either Dean or Sam finds out that she's been sleeping in her car to save her money for meals etc.

Thank you in advance <3

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ four wheels and an empty stomach,

summary. hunters life really doesn't pay off. you've been sleeping in your car and definitely not eating enough. but tonight, this will be different.

pairing. dean winchester x reader genre. angst

wordcount. 504

notes / warnings. reader experiencing hunger and homelessness. emotional vulnerability. exhaustion. depravation. // i hope you're all safe 🩷

It’s raining by the time you finish cleaning up the hunt. Not a heavy, stormy rain—just that sad, needling kind that soaks into your clothes and makes everything feel a little heavier.

You pull the zipper of your jacket up to your chin and throw a quick wave at Sam and Dean, who are still arguing about where to get burgers.

“I’m gonna head out,” you say, trying to sound casual. “Catch you guys next time.”

Dean’s half-turned toward you, distracted. Sam’s digging through his pockets for the Impala keys. Neither of them really notices when you slip away into the parking lot.

Good. You don’t want them to.

Your car’s parked under a flickering streetlight—ancient, rusty, and barely hanging on like you. You unlock the door as quietly as you can, toss your duffel in the backseat, and climb into the driver's side.

You crank the heater even though you know it’ll drain the battery by morning. Small price to pay to not freeze your ass off.

You curl up on the front seat, hoodie pulled over your head, and close your eyes.

Tomorrow, maybe you’ll have enough cash for a real bed. Maybe not. You’re getting good at pretending the ache in your ribs is anything but hunger.

You’re almost asleep when you hear it.

A sharp knock on the window.

You jolt upright, heart hammering, breath fogging up the glass.

Dean Winchester stands there, rain dripping off the brim of his jacket, frowning like he’s just been punched in the gut.

You scramble to unlock the door, embarrassment burning hot under your skin.

“Dean, I—I was just—” you stammer, no good lie ready.

He doesn’t let you finish.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he says, voice low and rough, almost broken. “You sleepin’ in your car?”

You grit your teeth, furious at yourself for getting caught. You don’t need pity. You’ve survived worse. You don’t need—

Dean crouches beside the car, rain soaking into his jeans, hands resting gently on the frame like he’s afraid you’ll bolt if he moves too fast.

“Why didn’t you say somethin’?” he asks, so soft it guts you.

You stare down at your hands. “Didn’t wanna be a charity case.”

He lets out a shaky breath, like he’s biting back a hundred things he wants to say.

Finally, he just holds out a hand.

“C’mon,” he says. “We got two beds. You’re not sleepin’ out here. Not while we’re around.”

You hesitate, shame coiling hot and thick in your gut.

Dean’s smile is crooked, a little sad.

“Not charity, sweetheart. Family.”

And somehow, that word hits harder than anything else.

You take his hand.

Dean tugs you out of the car like you weigh nothing, tucks you under his arm like you belong there, like you always have. His jacket is warm around your shoulders, and when you glance up at him, he just squeezes you closer without a word.

The rain keeps falling.

But for the first time in a long time, you’re not alone in it.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[doiliedaze]

The Jewel of the Sea

Warnings: Sevika kidnaps reader, age gap (reader is 25 and Sevika is around her early 40s), reader is chaotic, enemies to lovers, mean Sev for a while, y’all threaten each other a lot and both have hit each other, Sevika kills someone, reader almost dies, another awkward fight scene, virgin reader, reader cums fast because that’s normal for a first time (so is taking a second), reader has blood on her when they have sex, praise, check-ups, reader gets eaten out, tribbing, I think that’s it LMAOOOO

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

A/N: im so excited for this fic and will be expanding on pirate Sevika!! They are so soft to me like I love them together!! Thank you all for your support I get so happy seeing you all and talking to you guys ʕ̡̢̡⌯͒•ɷ•⌯͒ʔ̢̡̢ this is long asf omg and I wasn’t gonna make it a series cause I can’t have another series rn lol

Translations- priya = darling, jaanu = my life

I researched that her name has Hindi, Sanskrit origins so I thought this would be a cute way to tie her culture in.

───────┈ · ·

Tonight is the night you’ve been raised for, tonight you become queen. The day was going as planned. Flowers here, knights there, it was almost out of a fairytale. You knew this was too good to be true. You’ve been known for your intuition, it’s why your parents put you before your older sister. Whom holds no resentment towards you only a sadness that you couldn’t pursue your own dreams.

Since you were little you’ve adored the ocean, often thinking in another life you were a mermaid. Admiring the idea of protecting the ocean and it’s creatures somewhat like how you saw your mother care for her people. To swim as free as your sister rode. To sing an enchanting song to defeat enemies as your father cut others with his words.

You often reminisce on the idea and in your opinion it helps you be a better princess. Your thoughts were interrupted as your seamstress finish the last lace detail on you coronation dress. You step off the box to admire yourself stuck in utter awe.

Time passes as you wait behind that humongous door, the door that’ll start the new chapter in your 25 years. The love your family expressed to you unmistakable. As soon as you were alone you felt odd? Almost on edge…

You kept your eyes peeled, and shrugged it off as nerves. The thing about intuition is, it’ll work for you if you work with it.

Ignoring the churn in your stomach you walk as you hear the cue of the violins. As soon as the door opens, chaos is afoot!

Your eyes can’t focus on anything as you look for your family whom are nowhere to be found! Panic is settling into you as you try to create a plan. You see a discarded sword and pick it up awkwardly clutching it, you were always better with archery.

Running through the crowd not sure how to help or what to do your eyes settle on her.

She’s looks like she’d tower over you and hunt you down. You notice her scars and her mechanical arm. Her light smirk and her piercing gaze. It’s like the confusion in the crowd didn’t matter because she was steadily stalking towards you. You’ve heard of her before, she’s known for what she does and how she gets away with it.

Prey in a predators radar is exactly what you were, but you had a choice to fight or flee. You choose to flee as it’ll be you advantage. You know this castle and it doesn’t matter how many times they could’ve mapped it out this is your home.

Clutching the sword you run through the doors and into the hallway. Your main focus is making it to your crawl space which will take you to the gardens. As soon as you got close enough, the knob a fingertip away a sturdy hand grabs your waist and pushes you to the floor. Your sword drops as you try to brace your fall. Not ready to give in despite the pain in your body, you kick at her.

She laughs, how dare she mock you?

To make sure you stay still so her crew could make a swift escape she knocks you out with a cloth.

In almost an instance you went from queen to be, to hostage.

In a haze you wake up in a strange room, it looks to be a office with a makeshift bedroom area? You grip the sheets as you sit up eyes taking in the decor. Treasure here and there, maps neatly tucked away. Slowly you get up feeling that you are without your corset. Heat runs to your face but you push that aside as you look for a weapon.

Gathering courage you go out into the deck looking for her. That brute that took you from your home! The sun was blinding as and the smell of the sea was consuming but you saw her.

You storm up to her despite the laughs from her crew that quite when you dawn the knife you found.

Her express has yet to change from that smug satisfaction.

“Take me home, I demand it!” You yell pointing the knife at her face.

“Careful princess you might hurt yourself.” She laughs, oh what you’d give to rip that laugh out of her throat.

Before you could protest further she grabs then squeezes your wrist disarming you. You squirm as she slings you over her shoulder and makes her way back to her room.

Softly she places you on the bed and closes the door. “You’ll be staying in my quarters.” She states as she gives you space.

“Take me home!”

“I know you aren’t deaf.” She snorts

“You must be dumb because I refuse to stay on this ship!” With that she gets in your face, “you’ll mind how you talk to me.”

Anger rising in you, you spit on her square in her face.

Keeping her composure she steps back and wipes her face.

“I understand this isn’t ideal but you’ll get use to it.”

“Wow an understanding pirate how lucky am I!” You say with an eye roll.

“I took you because of your looks but you’ll stay because of that mouth.”

Being as bull headed as you are, you get off the bed and walk up to her.

“I will be going home with your permission or not!” You keep your voice steady and clear.

Swiftly she pushes you up against the nearest wall. Her breath ghosting your neck. Her thick fingers playing with the lace on the bust of your dress. “Don’t push me princess, you aren’t the first pretty thing I’ve thrown overboard.”

Fear churning in your stomach you whimper softly, pulling a wolf like grin out of her.

“You like that pretty thing? Being threatened is that what gets ya goin’.” Softly she tugs on your dress revealing more of your plush breast.

Your chest heaves as no one has seen you like this. “You are a degenerate.” You state avoiding eye contact. “Sometimes” she states as she moves her flesh hand to pull a stray coil. You swat at her hand and she moves, “get some rest you’ll need it for tomorrow princess.”

Defeated and highly flustered you lay in the bed and give your mind to your dreams.

Your nights use to end with you going to sleep alone and you waking up alone until one night. Sevika was charting at her desk and you were reading on the bed. When she assumed you were getting sleepy she packed up to leave but you broke the silence. “Stay…please.”

She gave you an expression you couldn’t read but she obliged. She puts her things down and lays next to you. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Before this I’ve never slept on a ship before…it’s different.”

“It’s not that bad once you get used to it.” She awkwardly slide her fingers into yours. Obvious she hasn’t done this before. You put your pride to the side and nuzzle into her. “I had a bear…I can’t sleep without her so…” with that she just squeezes you close, embracing you. Being able to relax you inhale until you drift off to sleep.

The next months were a blur as you roam the ship endlessly. You were peering out at sea when you smell her behind you. That strong scent of wood burned into your senses.

“What’s occupying your mind priya?” Her rough hand softly touching your shoulder.

Priya…you still don’t know what it means but it’s nice to hear, better than a condescending princess or pretty thing.

Over these last few months you’ve learn to tolerate her. You two still argue like there’s no tomorrow but you grew to worry when she would stress and you’d help keep order. You saw how she’d grow to worry when you couldn’t sleep or if you’d stare off too long, wanting this to be a home for you how this has been a home to her crew.

“I want to go home.” You sigh leaning forward, gripping the ledge.

“You are home.” Sevika states coldly, “ I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you?”

“Why being a hostage isn’t enough for me?”

“Hostages don’t get freedom or new clothes you choose to stay on the boat when we dock!”

“I refuse to be seen with you!” You shout turning to face her. The hurt in her eyes are evident but she pushes it down, “this is what I get for protecting a brat!”

“You aren’t protecting me at all! I told you I’m going home with or without you!”

“How would you suppose you’d get home princess?” She cocked her eyebrow and spoke with venom.

Irritated and wanting to prove your point you look around and it dawns on you, you are an amazing swimmer.

Without warning you hoist yourself over the ledge and fall into the ocean. The water was cool but not unbearable.

You sink down trying to gain cover with the bubbles of your submersion but it wouldn’t matter because Sevika jumped in after you.

Concerned more than angry she swims to you and with a rope and the help of the crew the two of you are retrieved!

“Are you out of your fucking mind y/n! Do you not understand how you could’ve hurt yourself pulling a stunt like that?” She shouts not giving you a chance to catch your breath. The crew was quite, it’s a big divide whenever you two argue, Ran typically getting in the middle of it.

“Why can’t you understand you took me from my home and I don’t feel safe with you!”

Angrily she grabs your face squeezing just enough to leave a sting. “So all the nights I hold you and talk to you doesn’t make you feel safe?” You claw at her biceps as you feel tears well in your eyes.

“That’s enough Sevika I think she understands she’s wrong.” Ran states stepping closer.

Sevika can feel her stomach churn because she made you cry. “There’s nothing to see here go back to your stations!” She yells as she pushes you into Ran then left to her quarters.

With that you walk away and go to your spot. You like to sit on the front of the ship with her right hand Ran. They are sweet to you surprisingly and keep you updated on your kingdom. You’ve been presumed dead and your family is devastated but they have to move on.

“I don’t understand why she keeps me here, I refuse to help.” You sniffle and wipe your face.

“You’re entertaining to her I suppose.” Ran says with a shrug, “I don’t question her anymore she wouldn’t give me a straight answer at least when it comes to you.”

“Why’d you guys raid my castle in the first place?” You turn to face them.

Ran’s shoulder tense slightly. “Not sure if I should tell you honestly.”

“You’re the only person I can talk to Ran please!” You grab their hand.

“We were raiding your kingdom because we heard of a King getting ready to kill his heir and we wanted to goods before the drama settled in.” They avoided your eyes feeling a slight shame.

Dread seeps into your heart as their words repeat in your head “ a King getting ready to kill his heir.”

“No I…he wouldn’t!” You stand abruptly, “he loves me!”

“He was raising you for slaughter! Who makes their second in line the monarch? Look I know this is hard but you ever wondered why your family never truly went looking for you? We’re a notorious group and-”

Without another word you were running to Sevika.

When you enter the bedroom you find her frustrated at the desk writing in her journal.

“How may I help you princess?” She mutters without even looking at you, “he was trying to kill me?” You whisper as your voice shakes.

Sevika looks up at you not sure how she wants to respond. She’s never been good with emotions whether it’s hers or someone else’s. Sevika had to grow up in a world where she was the only person who cared about her. That’s why it was so easy to make the seas her home.

Slowly she opened her arms to you and you run over to her lap. In disbelief you sob on her mechanical shoulder. “Why would he do that to me?” You ask in broken breaths.

Sevika could feel her heart in her throat unsure how to respond. When she was younger she imagined having friends and having to comfort them but she never got there with anyone besides Ran and Ran isn’t a crier. So she pulls you closer and lays her head on yours. “If you didnt take me…do you think that would’ve been the day?”

“Priya I don’t know much…but I do know you get headaches after you cry so stop crying please.” She whispers as she wipes your tears. You try to even your breathes but you can’t. So there you sit in your accidental saviors embrace.

Ever since that day you’ve been attached to her hip. This life isn’t what you’d imagined but it’s yours. You often think back and try to see what you missed but it’s no use.

“Sev, whats your favorite thing about being a pirate besides killing people?” You ask as you two walk around a market. You feel like a true swashbuckler with your floppy hat, flowy fabrics and the gun Sevika taught you how to use.

“Watching my crew enjoying themselves.” She bites into an apple then hands it to me, “you all deserve nice things and that’s better than bloodshed…I guess.”

“Big ole’ softy…” you nudge your shoulder into her as you bite the apple.

“Don’t get use to it.” She mutters and you were going to tease back till you saw an amulet.

“Jaanu look!” You point but she stops, “what did you call me?” Her voice unsteady. “Jaanu? Oh I…well you call me priya so I wanted to call you something sweet too…I don’t necessarily know what either means but I read it in one of your romance novels you like to hide.” You state this like it’s no big deal as you buy the golden amulet. Sevika can feel her face burning and her palms sweating. “Priya means darling and jaanu means my life.”

Stopping in the middle of a market is frowned upon as it slows the hustle and bustle of the environment but you could care less as you stare into her grey eyes. “Then here jaanu I want you to have this.”

You lean up on your tippy toes and clasp the amulet around her neck, “now you’ll always carry me with you.” With that you walk away to catch up with Ran but you look over your shoulder to see her lopsided smile.

You were too busy gushing to Ran about what happened that you weren’t watching your surroundings. You’re still getting use to being a pirate let alone an ex-royal. Technically people still want you dead so it was confusing when Ran tackles you!

Word got out about Sevika’s new lover and how she favors the beauty of a princess. There’s been more incidents at the docks lately but nothing this bold! Another crew mate covered you two as Ran and you prepared your guns.

Lost in the frenzy you got separated. You get a sense of deja-vú. A weapon in your hand you haven’t used on anyone before, fear churning in your stomach and your intuition screaming at you.

Sevika isn’t around to immediately safe you so you have to choose; fight or flight. You don’t need a repeat of what happened a year ago so you choose to gain cover and shoot.

Aim is sloppy but you hit enough people more to disarm them, not having the heart to kill anyone.

That’s when you feel a cold gun pressed to the back of your head. Panic is seeping into your body, what do you do in a situation like this? You aren’t savvy enough to fight them off.

You thought back to all the moments you made on the ship, how you just accepted this is your life. Now it’s getting taken away. You close your eyes thinking about how you wish to be in Sevika’s arms one more time, to tell her how you feel.

In an instance you hear a pop and you assume it was you but you feel a thick warm liquid flow down your shoulder. You look back and there she stood. Sevika always protecting you.

Quickly she rounded you and the crew up. “Are you hurt?” Sevika held your face, her grey eyes searching yours. Not wanting to waste another moment you kiss her.

You two fumble to your quarters, breathing heavily. She shakily takes your clothes off as she bites your neck. “Been wanting you for so long priya.”

“Take me then” you moan clawing at her clothes. Sevika pushes you down on the bed and pressed your things to your chest. Her thick tongue slowly licks and teases your cunt. “Jaanu please I want more” you mewl overwhelmed by the sensations.

“I’m going to take my time and you will listen. Now this might hurt for a second so breathe f’me.” She pushes one finger into you slowly and listens to your drawn out moan. “Feels good priya?”

“Fuck yes!” You moan as you bite your lip. Needing to do something with your hands you pull her hair. “Sevika more!”

“Can’t ever stop being a brat huh?” Always striving to make you happy she pushes another finger in. Her tongue wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly.

Broken moans is the only thing able to come from your throat as you cum into her mouth. “Are you okay, does anything hurt?”

“No, more please” you whine although this position is hurting your thighs.

Sevika gently placed her bare cunt against yours and rubs. The satisfaction of that small amount of friction got you wet. “Fuck you feel so good” she moans into your ear.

“You make me feel so good” you lick the outer shell of her pierced ear causing a shiver to go down her spine.

Your hips grind up against hers and you feel yourself already on edge so you both slow down. The drawn out strokes had you both twitching and moaning. The mixture of your juices staining the sheets when y’all came.

Sevika leans her forehead against yours and says, “promise to sail the seas with me forever?”

“I do.”

───────┈ · ·

A/n: this is the longest fic I ever wrote and bitch I don’t wanna do this shit again🥹 in all seriousness I wanted to push myself and I can see the moodboard already!! I hope you all enjoyed this and criticisms is welcomed!!

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian

Dividers- @dollywons

[lightseoul]

a/n. pleasantly surprised at how quickly i wrote this bit, it practically wrote itself. glad the first part was interesting for a lot of you—i love writing about psych/therapy stuff (despite my complex relationship with 'em), and ofc bkg <3 i honestly don't know where i'm going with this, but it's been fun so far. (0.8k)

navigation. part 1, (you are here), part 3

thankfully—and to the relief of whatever dignity he had left—that interaction was short-lived.

well, it’s mostly because after you blinked at him for what felt like a torturous eternity and said a shaky hello back, he gave you a curt nod as if he wasn’t the one who just initiated the exchange and bolted it out of there without a single glance back.

that bit haunted him for the next few days, reappearing in his consciousness whenever the topic of therapy or anything remotely close to it was broached. he even snapped at kirishima when the redhead asked how his latest session went during one of their evening patrols together. it was a kneejerk reaction, an entirely out-of-proportion, aggressive response that shocked even him, which says a lot.

he should go ahead and text the guy an apology.

eventually, though, that unfortunate powwow slowly faded into the background of his exceptionally busy mind as the days went on. things got so hectic in the agency that he had to postpone his appointment for the week, which—quite frankly—is an upside to this chaos, because he sure wasn’t pumped about discussing his love life, or the lack thereof, with the jarringly knowing middle-aged lady. being able to definitively avoid you and buy you more time to forget about his stupid social blunder is merely the cherry on top.

okay, maybe the incident didn’t actually slip his mind after all.

“…bakugou-san? are you still with me?”

dazed, bakugou squeezes his eyes shut before fluttering them open, and what greets him is the very same lady against the backdrop of her increasingly familiar office, only this time she’s looking more concerned than perceptive.

right. he’s supposed to be in the middle of a session right now.

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of irrelevant thoughts and focus on the matters at hand. therapy is expensive, after all. “i’m here.”

that doesn’t seem to placate the woman who instead prods, much to his chagrin. “you seem out of it today. is there something in your mind that you want us to talk about?”

for a second, he debates caving and just telling her the dumb shit that happened two weeks ago, but then backtracks when it dawns on him how ridiculous everything is. what is he, a prepubescent boy? he died and survived a major war, for fuck’s sake. why is he so hung up on seeming awkward for once in his life?

even hearing it in his head is embarrassing enough.

that settles it, then. his lips are and will remain sealed.

but then his gaze refocuses on his therapist, and the sheer ‘unconditional positive regard’ or whatever the crap is called that she’s radiating becomes so palpable that it just spills out of him.

“i fucked up.”

that makes the lady frown—which, if he thinks about it, is understandable, because he rarely opens up about his failures, let alone this blatantly—although she manages to quickly school her expression into a more neutral one. “can i ask you to expound on it?”

at that, bakugou sighs, because it’s either he just tells the laughable truth or actually cite one of his actual mistakes—which he’s not feeling right now, by the way. or he can expertly maneuver the conversation to another topic, but something tells him there’s no getting out of the current subject. maybe today, there is, but it’ll surely loom over their next sessions indefinitely until either of them revisits it.

he should know. it’s happened to him too many times, he’s lost count.

with this realization, he can only sigh again.

“it’s stupid,” he preempts.

“i’d like to hear it regardless,” comes her classic, supportive response.

and so he does it. talk, that is. it starts off a bit rough—he didn’t know how to even begin without flushing like an idiot, but he managed to get the brief anecdote going. he still ended up blushing anyway—the warmth in his cheeks was undeniable—and if she noticed, she gratefully didn’t point it out. by the time he’s finished with the trivial tale, he’s mildly out of breath, having said everything in one continuous burst.

“i told you,” he spits when she doesn’t say anything for a beat. “it’s stupid.”

“i’d normally ask you to reconsider the adjectives you use for yourself and your experiences, but i think you’ve heard enough of that.”

he snorts. damn straight.

the woman then shoots him a smile, and he has to tamp down the reflex to bristle at an impending attempt to placate him. fortunately, it doesn’t come.

what does, instead, is a question.

one that catches him completely off guard.

“did you find her attractive?”

the fuck, is his first, immediate thought.

but then his normally trusty and acute brain seemingly comes to life and promptly supplies a second one that leaves him frozen and utterly dumbfounded.

yes.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[bullet-prooflove]

Pittfest: Jack Abbott x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gabsgabsvaz @yousigned-upforthis @flyinglama @cosmic-psychickitty

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King

Masochist

Seven Shades of Fucked Up (NSFW)

Part of the Job

Jack wakes up to lingering kisses, to the sensation of gentle fingertips trailing patterns over his back as he moans into the pillow, the afternoon light filtering in through the open window.

“Time to get up sleepy head.” You whisper in his ear as he buries his face deeper. “We don’t want to be late to Pittfest.”

“Shit honey.” He mumbles tilting his head towards you as he cracks his eyes open just enough to see your silhouette resting next to him on the mattress. “Is that today? I said I’d cover for Anderson tonight, his kids sick.”

“Oh.” You say and he can hear the disappointment in your voice as your fingers stop combing through his tarnished silver curls. He captures your hand, planting a kiss on the back of it.

“You’ll have more fun with your friends anyway.” He tells you and your lips purse together into a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Yea.” You say quietly as you slip from the bed, heading towards the bathroom. “I need to get ready.”

He listens to the door slam closed behind you before he sinks back into the mattress. You’re pissed, he knows you are but it’ll all be worth it to see the look on your face when he hands you two first class tickets to Rome in a couple of weeks.

He must fall back asleep because the next thing he knows he’s waking up to a silent apartment. That’s how he knows you’ve gone already. Wherever you go there’s always noise, singing, humming, talking to the plants as you water them, now there’s nothing but this ominous quiet, one that reminds him of when he used to live alone, the police scanner crackling in the background for company.

It isn’t until he gets himself into the kitchen to make coffee that he realises how badly he’s fucked up.

There’s a pink envelope resting on the table with his name on it, propped up against a small wrapped gift box. He frowns as he opens the card and tiny shards of brightly coloured confetti fall into his lap.

Happy anniversary they read and that’s when he realises how big of an asshole he really is. That’s what Pittfest was about, it’s why he took the day off in the first place. All of those back to back shifts he’s been pulling for that surprise trip have gotten him turned around, he’s lost track of the dates.

Christ, he thinks as he rubs his palms over his weary features. No wonder you were upset with him.

He tries to call you but your phone rings out. The festival has been going for a couple hours by now and he knows you’ll probably be at the sound stages, cutting loose to a few of the bands.  

“Faye.” He says into your voice mail. “I’m sorry honey, I fucked up. This week of shifts completely messed with me. Call me back so I can beg for forgiveness. I’ll make it up to you I promise.”

His phone chimes before he can even put it down and he thinks it must be you texting him back but then he sees the notification.

Hospital recall: Mass casualty event, incoming from Pittfest.

And something inside him dies.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[sturniololuvz]

Can you do one were the reader is the sls and she’s dating Nate (there like 16) and they start messing around, Marylou tells the triplets and Justin to give them “the talk” since they don’t want her getting pregnant anytime soon!

lol!

⸻

“The Talk (From Hell)”

It started with a locked door. That was your first mistake.

You and Nate weren’t doing anything too serious. Just laying in your bed, making out a little, whispering and laughing, pretending the world didn’t exist outside that bedroom. It was innocent… mostly.

But Marylou? She wasn’t stupid.

She walked by your door, saw the light was off, heard low voices, and—most importantly—tried the knob.

Locked.

Immediately, she called for Jimmy.

“I am not ready to be a grandma,” she hissed. “Absolutely not.”

“Maybe they’re just talking?” Jimmy tried.

Marylou gave him a look so deadly, Jimmy nearly choked on his coffee. “No. I want the boys to handle it.”

“The boys?” he blinked. “You’re really gonna send Nick, Matt, Chris, and Justin in there to give their little sister the talk?”

Marylou grabbed her keys and her purse. “Exactly. It’ll be so horrifying, she’ll stay a virgin until she’s thirty.”

⸻

Later That Night – Your Room

You were peacefully texting Nate (as if your mom hadn’t threatened your life earlier) when your door slammed open.

Nick walked in first, looking like someone just told him he had to relive his middle school haircut.

Matt followed, dramatically pointing like this was a courtroom trial. “Downstairs. Now.”

Chris came in holding snacks. “We’re gonna need fuel for this.”

And Justin—the oldest and most dramatic of the brothers—entered last, clapping his hands once. “Let’s make this as awkward as humanly possible.”

You stared at them, completely frozen. “What the actual hell is going on?”

“Family meeting,” Matt said.

Chris: “Sex edition.”

Nick: visibly trying not to pass out.

Justin: “Let’s go, Little Miss Hormones.”

⸻

Living Room – 8:12 PM

You sat on the couch with your arms crossed, cheeks burning.

All four brothers stood in front of you like they were about to deliver a TED Talk from hell.

“Mom told us what happened,” Chris started.

“Nothing happened,” you snapped. “We were literally just—”

Nick cut you off. “Nope. Don’t say it. I don’t wanna know. I’m gonna cry.”

Matt held up a finger. “Here’s the deal. We love you. We support you. But if you and Nate continue locking doors and… rolling around like baby otters—”

“WHAT?!” you gagged. “Why would you say it like that?!”

Justin sat down across from you, staring with big brother intensity. “This is serious. You’re 16. You’re young. And Nate’s a good guy—but if he knocks you up, I’m punching him straight into next week.”

Chris nodded. “Straight up. I don’t care how sweet he is. I’ll turn into Dad Hulk.”

Nick finally looked up. “Mom said we had to be thorough. So… we brought diagrams.”

Matt proudly held up a poorly drawn poster board with two stick figures and something labeled “Bad Choices.”

Y/N stood up. “Nope. I’m done. I’m walking into traffic.”

Justin shrugged. “Better than walking into motherhood.”

⸻

Ten Minutes Later – Y/N’s Room

You locked yourself in your room and flopped onto your bed, texting Nate:

“Your name is now banned in this house. My brothers just gave me the sex talk. With DIAGRAMS.”

Nate:

“OH MY GOD. What did they say??”

You:

“Chris said if you get me pregnant he’ll Hulk smash you. Justin was dead serious. Matt said something about otters. Nick almost passed out.”

Nate:

“…I’m terrified of your whole family.”

You:

“You should be.”

⸻

Downstairs

The four boys sat in silence on the couch, drained.

“I think we did good,” Matt said.

Chris leaned back. “We did terrible. I wanna scrub my brain with bleach.”

Nick was curled up under a blanket. “I never want to hear the word ‘pregnant’ again.”

Justin took a deep breath, then nodded. “If she even thinks about kissing Nate again, it’ll be too soon.”

Matt grinned. “Mission accomplished.”

⸻

[halsteadlover]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬?

*Gifs not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: you and Hotch have occasional rendezvous but each time you promise it’ll be the last even if neither of you seems to be able to stop.

• Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don’t be like them you guys wrap it if you want to use it!!!), cursing, dirty talk, oral sex m. receiving, basically porn with no plot lol

• Word count: 1824.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ MINORS STAY AWAY. I hope you like this, let me know what you think. Comment, reblog and like if you want and as always thank you so much for your support.

“Oh fuck Hotch you feel so good…-” you moaned loudly as you kept riding him on his chair. Your shaking thighs burned, your aching knees pressing against on his chair as his dick thrusted deeper and deeper inside you.

His hands were gripping your hips as he accompanied your movements, grunting and trying to remain silent while his fingers pressed against your skin so hard they left marks on it.

He let go of your hip and covered your mouth when another groan escaped your lips, making your moans become just muffled sighs. “Shut up, you don't want them to hear us do you?”.

You shook your head, biting into his palm as you placed your hands on the arms of his chair for support while letting yourself get rocked by the immense pleasure he was giving you.

It was a mistake.

You knew it was.

But God what a beautiful mistake.

You couldn't help it.

Since the day you and Hotch ended up in bed one night after a case and a few drinks, you didn’t stop having these rendezvous, neither of you could help it. Every time you promised yourselves it’d be the last, but it was enough to find yourselves close, or your eyes to meet during the discussion of a case, or for some reason his hand to casually caress yours to break this promise.

You were just like a drug for each other. From that first dose you had that night, you could no longer go without that feeling of euphoria and pure ecstasy the sex gave you.

Aaron Hotchner was the most sinful thought that crossed your mind, the forbidden thing you always craved and God did you love it.

Maybe it was the fact you were a BAU agent and he was your boss, maybe it was the thrill of being discovered, maybe it was the taste of the forbidden – hell, what would the FBI have said if they knew the upright boss of the behavioral analysis unit was breaking the rules that he himself continually reiterated to his agents?

This, however, didn't stop either of you, indeed it was as if all this was fuel thrown on the fire, passion and desire you already felt.

At first you both managed to keep that passion at bay, having occasional sex in hotel rooms when you were out of town for a case. But the more time passed, the more difficult it became to suppress everything, to hide that you wanted to rip each other’s clothes off every minute of the day.

And that's why you found yourself in his office that evening, fucking near his desk while there were still some colleagues still in the bullpen.

“God I've been thinking about you and this damn skirt all day… Fuck… You’re irresistible,” he muttered, his eyes scanning your figure sitting on him as his dick fucked your wet pussy.

He was completely mesmerized.

Your skirt was rolled up around your hips, the sheer black stockings you were wearing until recently had been ripped by Hotch in the heat of passion, your panties were thrown to the floor, your shirt unbuttoned and your bra moved as your breasts popped out and bounced to the rhythm of your motion.

You looked like a fucking goddess.

The walls of your pussy started to clench around his dick, making him twitch inside you, your hips stuttering as you felt your orgasm building more and more. It was as if your body was going through convulsions and you couldn't control it, you just wanted and desired that intense pleasure that only Aaron Hotchner was able to give you.

He wrapped his lips around your breast, sucking and licking your nipple as you threaded your hands into his hair and pulled it. You bit your lower lip in an attempt to keep at bay the moans and gasps you was struggling to keep quiet.

“Just like that, oh yeah just like that you feel so good Hotch,” you whispered in a gasp, rolling your eyes and head back. His tongue licked your skin, from your breasts, then moving up your collarbone to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin until he left a mark.

Hotchner wasn't one for hickeys, he wasn't one for office sex in the workplace, he wasn't one for quickies, he wasn't one to break the rules that he himself had set but you managed to break down every single part of his barrier, you managed making him lose control in a way that he loved and hated at the same time, you managed to unleash emotions in him that he had never even felt in his life.

You were hurricane.

You were storm.

You were addiction.

And he couldn't get enough of you, never.

“Shit, fuck,” he cursed, biting and licking the skin of your shoulder as his thumb began drawing imaginary circles on your clit making your muscles tense even more and your movements more erratic. You almost had a heart attack from the intense pleasure that flowed through your veins. “God princess you ruin me.”

A breathtaking orgasm hit over you without any other warning like a raging river, making you dizzy and see stars. Your vision went blurry for a few moments, making you even forget you were in your boss' office and someone could actually hear you.

You tried to catch your breath but at that very moment there was a knock on the door, making both you and Hotch freeze in place, his hard dick still inside you. You exchanged a panicked look.

“Just one second.” Aaron had responded after clearing his throat and then continuing talking to you in a whisper, “Get under the desk.”

You nodded and lifted yourself off his legs, which had turned to jelly as you bent down and picked up your panties. You settled under the desk between his legs while he quickly tried to fix his hair and button up his shirt. He stood up and put on his pants, leaving them loose without bringing them up to his hips.

“Come in.”

Your heart was beating so wildly you could hear the pounding in your ears. You stayed paralyzed under the desk, too afraid to even breathe.

The door opened and you recognized Agent Anderson's voice. “I brought the Porters' case report from five days ago Agent Hotchner.”

He nodded, his expression completely serious and professional as he pretended to fill out a file he didn't even remember at the moment.

“Thank you Agent Anderson, leave it on my desk.”

Despite the fear of being discovered, however, you couldn't contain your excitement and the thought of driving him crazy couldn't leave your mind. You placed a hand on his inner thigh, trailing your fingers along his crotch with sensuality.

Aaron almost had a heart attack when you quietly pulled his underwear off enough for his dick to pop out again, still wet and damp from your fluids and you wrapped your hand around it, starting to jerk him off with slow, controlled pace.

“Agent Hotchner there was a thing about this case I wanted to ask you about…” Agent Anderson had asked.

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

Hotch nodded and pointed to the chair in front of his desk, his lips pressed together because he was afraid if he opened them only moans would come out.

Your hand increased its speed and Hotch let out a deep sigh as he leaned back in his chair, about to have a heart attack right then and now.

He looked at Anderson, he heard him talking but his brain couldn't process a single word he was saying, too focused on trying to keep a serious expression and not let on that there was a woman under his desk who was masturbating him.

But the final blow came when you wrapped your lips around his dick, taking it all in your mouth and tasting yourself on it. He let out a small moan which immediately covered with a cough, thanking god Anderson was too caught up in whatever he was saying to notice.

His hand reached below the desk and into your hair, pulling it harshly and making you almost moan at the sensation. This caused you to pick up your pace and Hotch didn't know whether to hate you or not at that moment.

He wanted you to stop.

But also for you to keep going because that fucking mouth of yours was pure ecstasy.

“Are you okay, agent Hotchner?” Anderson stopped at a certain point, noticing the way Hotchner continued to move in his chair and the blush on his cheeks.

“Y-yes, I apologize...” Hotch breathed out. “Lord,” he almost let out a groan which he tried to mask with another cough. “I’m not feeling very well these days. C-can…” he stopped again, swallowing another moan. “We’ll talk about t-this tomorrow Anderson. Excuse me.”

You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself, feeling victorious for making the always-so-serious SSA Aaron Hotchner a complete mess.

His thighs started to shake, his fingers still pulling your hair as you licked his dick, leaving a long string of saliva on his tip. You wrapped your lips around him again and a hand around the base, jerking him off while simultaneously taking it in your mouth. Your other hand rested on his thigh, pressing your nails on his hot skin.

Your mouth felt like heaven and it didn't take long for the orgasm to start building again after it was interrupted.

“Oh yes of course, I'm sorry. Get well soon then, g-good night agent Hotchner.” Anderson replied and jumped to his feet before mumbling some more nonsense and exiting the office, closing the door behind him.

Hotch let out a particularly deep sigh and rested his head on the edge of his chair as he continued to mercilessly fuck your mouth.

“You fucking little slut, you really can't help yourself huh?” He groaned, looking back at you. His grip around your hair tightened, forcing your head down and making you gag. “My needy little whore, look at you chocking on my dick… Fuck you’re gonna make me come.”

How could he make such derogatory names so damn sexy?

It didn't take long for Hotch to explode into an intense orgasm inside your mouth, not letting your head go until he watched you swallow every single damn drop of his cum.

He exhaustedly leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he waited for his breathing to calm down.

He took your hands and helped you out from under the desk, letting you sit on his lap and kissing you until taking your breath.

He gave you a sweet little kiss on your forehead, caressing your cheek with a thumb, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “You'll be the death of me sooner or later, agent Y/Ln.”

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @mrspeacem1nusone, @halstead-severide-fan, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria

Aaron Hotchner tag list: @mrs-ssa-hotch, @s1lverhand, @novabckly, @thatcrimeshowchick

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[magic-shop-stories]

BTS as fathers pt.2 - YOONGI

other members JIN

pt.2 - YOONGI

Yoongi’s parenting style would be quiet piano melodies at 2 AM, handwritten notes tucked into lunchboxes, and a love so steady it feels like a heartbeat. He’s the dad who says little but sees everything.

💖 Emotional Side & Feelings

quietly devoted

actions > grand gestures

late-night tea talks

fixes broken toys/stuff without asking

introspective journaling

fears of emotional distance

love language: quality time & acts of service

all-night school project help

concert drives

soft at heart = tearing up at milestones, hidden behind a grumpy mask

Yoongi would express his deep love through subtle, consistent actions. He may appear reserved, yet every late-night conversation and gentle fix is a testament to his devotion. Though he worries about repeating his father’s emotional distance, he'd work hard to be fully present for his kids, even if it means muttering “Allergies” while wiping a stray tear at a piano recital.

👨‍👧‍👦 What He Does With His Kids

Music lessons: Home studio piano basics

“Finger placement matters. No, not like that...here.”

Quiet adventures: Indie bookstores, vinyl shops, late-night drives with lo-fi beats

Cooking: Simple meals like kimchi jjigae with extra tofu

“Eat. It’ll make you taller.”

EXTRA:

Vinyl Listening & Music Appreciation Nights: He has a deep love for analog music and storytelling through sound. On weekend nights, he'd sit in the studio or living room, with his kids dims the lights, and plays vinyl records, explaining what makes each song special

“Listen to this bassline—pure genius.”

sometimes, they take turns picking albums, and he lets them explain why they love certain songs.

he'd teach them how to handle vinyl properly

“No fingerprints. Treat it with respect.”

occasionally, he'd play them unreleased songs or rough demos, letting them hear his creative process

becomes a bonding ritual = music as a shared language between them

From teaching piano in his intimate studio to taking quiet midnight drives, Yoongi’s time with his kids would be filled with understated moments that nurture creativity and resilience. Whether whipping up a simple meal or listeninh to music together, every moment would be carefully crafted to make his children feel seen and supported.

📚 What He Teaches Them

Resilience

“Life’s not fair. But you’re tougher than you think.”

Creativity

“There’s no wrong way to create.”

Financial sense

“Save your allowance. That Dior hoodie isn’t worth it.” (Though earned, rewards follow)

Self-advocacy

“Speak up. Even if your voice shakes.”

Yoongi’s lessons would be straightforward and heartfelt. He'd emphasize bouncing back from setbacks, finding beauty in creative expression, and developing financial wisdom, often blending tough love with gentle encouragement to help his children forge their own paths.

💎 His Beliefs & Values

Mental health matters: open about anxiety

Work hard, rest harder: mandatory “lazy Sundays”

Privacy is sacred

shields from media, no paparazzi

With a balanced perspective shaped by his own challenges, Yoongi would instill values of self-care and privacy. He believes that mental health is as important as any achievement and ensures that his family has a sanctuary away from the public eye.

🚫 What He’s Strict About

Respect

“You can disagree without being cruel.” - then sits them in the studio to write down the sharpest punchlines together

Honesty

“Disappointing me is worse than making a mistake.”

Screen time: Limits social media; promotes creative hobbies

Alcohol: you might think he'd be chill about it but he'd be strict about underage drinking, but also teaches responsible choices when older

Firm and fair, Yoongi sets clear boundaries. He demands respect and honesty in every interaction and enforces sensible limits on screen time. Notably, he is resolute about alcohol—prohibiting it for underage kids while gradually educating them on responsibility as they grow.

🤒 Handling Tough Situations

When sick: methodical care (thermometer, homemade ginger tea, Studio Ghibli DVDs)

“Rest. I’ll handle the rest.”

Misbehavior: calm discussion

“Let’s talk about why you did that.”

logical consequences (e.g. volunteering if careless with a pet)

Heartbreak: shares personal tales of teenage angst over hot chocolate

“First love’s like a song—beautiful, but not always meant to last.”

Whether it’s a fever or a broken heart, Yoongi would handle crises with a steady, thoughtful approach. He'd create a healing environment, be it with a carefully measured dose of ginger tea or a quiet chat that puts life’s disappointments into perspective.

🎁 Typical Gifts

Vinyl records: rare pressings

(e.g., signed vinyl for 16th birthday)

“Don’t scratch it.”

Music gear: vintage guitar or MIDI controller

“Make something honest.”

Luxury staples: subtle Valentino accessories

“Take care of yourself. It’s not vanity, it’s self-respect.”

Every gift from Yoongi meticulously chosen to reflect his children’s passions and his own refined taste. From rare vinyl to quality music instruments and understated luxury items, his presents would be both meaningful and practical.

👧👦 Parenting Differences: Daughter and Son

For His Daughter:

fiercely protective yet promotes independence

“You don’t need anyone’s permission to take up space.”

admires her boldness

secretly preserves her protest art

encourages pursuit of STEM or music, whatever she loves

For His Son:

focuses on emotional intelligence

“Crying doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

bonds over basketball games (even if Yoongi is hopeless against his own son - YES! - believe me, he is good but his son would be better)

teaches practical skills: cooking, cleaning, money management

Yoongi would tailor his approach with care: nurturing his daughter’s independence and creative spirit while guiding his son to embrace vulnerability and practical life skills. His method would be to celebrate each child’s uniqueness while providing a consistent foundation of love and discipline.

💬 Typical Things He Says

“Think before you act. But don’t overthink.” “You’re allowed to be angry. Just don’t let it control you.” “If you’re going to fail, fail forward.” “Want a snack? I’ve got ...”

🌟 Family Rituals

Midnight snack sessions: 1 AM ramyeon under soft kitchen lights, life talks

Studio Saturdays: Home studio hangouts with doodles and songwriting

Annual hiking trips: Nature detoxes

“Fresh air fixes everything.”

Family time with Yoongi defined by unique rituals that blend creativity and calm. From spontaneous late-night snacks to relaxed studio sessions and refreshing hikes, these traditions cement the deep bonds they share.

🌍 Balancing Fame & Family

compartmentalizes work and home, home is sacred

occasional low-key studio sessions

no exploitation of their image

advocates for mental health resources for teens, inspired by his kids

Yoongi would masterfully separate his demanding career from his cherished family life. He'd ensure that his children are shielded from the limelight while still sharing bits of his world in a controlled, nurturing way.

💭 His Worries & Efforts

fears of emotional distance

schedules weekly “How’s your heart?” check-ins

overthinks birthday gifts to ensure they feel truly seen

quietly donates to youth art programs, promoting a kinder, less judgmental world

Haunted by the possibility of inheriting his father’s detachment, Yoongi would constantly strive to connect more deeply with his children. His careful efforts, both big and small, reveal a dad who is always learning, always loving, and always trying to create a better world for his kids.

[coco-loco-nut]

High Flyer - Part Five

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: the demands of motherhood and racing are a lot, but with the right support, anything is possible.

a/n: sorry this took FOREVER, I graduated in december and it’s been kinda crazy since

masterlist series masterlist requests open

—————————

A high pitched wail ring out, soon followed by another.

“I got them, go back to sleep,” Charles whispers. It’s his turn anyway.

“They’re probably hungry,” you groan, shifting in the bed to get up.

“You pumped earlier, I’ll warm some up and get them back to sleep. You have a race in the morning,” he insists.

“Ok, but wake me up if you need help,” you blink tiredly, watching your husband disappear to the next room over in your hotel suite. A glance at the baby monitor tells you that everything is okay as you drift back to sleep.

It’s been an adjustment for you and the team upon your return. Racing with newborns isn’t easy, especially since you are determined to be a present mother. You could barely handle being outside of Europe, so you and Charles decided that the whole family would be traveling.

“Charles, which one should Hervé wear?” you ask, holding two onesies - one a chili pattern and the other a horse pattern.

“The chili, it’ll make Carlos happy,” Charles says distractedly as he cuddles Gabriel who is sporting Ferrari red.

“Alright, aaaaaand baby two is ready,” you smile, picking up the giggling baby.

“Ready to head out?” Charles asks, grabbing the baby bag.

“Yep,” you double check you have everything on your way out of the room.

“My babies,” Arthur reaches out to steal Gabriel from Charles. He was able to get a seat at Haas for the year alongside Ollie. “He’s wearing the onesie I got him,” he coos, trying not to wake Gabriel up.

“Is he? We just grabbed red,” you glance at Gabriel, whose top reads ‘I have the best Uncle’. “Yeah, that would be you.”

It isn’t uncommon for the five of you to enter the paddock together, Arthur is really trying to go for brother of the year.

Carlos spots your small group and intercepts you. He shifts his weight awkwardly, clearly a little nervous.

“Could I steal Y/n for a minute?” he asks. He looks down at Hervé in your arms and cracks a smile. “My number one fan,” Carlos chuckles as you split off.

“It’s your home race, I thought you may want the support,” you look down as the baby in your arms who is looking back at you.

“Thank you, Hervé. When you want to kart and your mom isn’t letting you, just let Uncle Carlos know. I’ll give you all the tricks on how to beat her,” Carlos says, voice pitched slightly higher.

“I know you love the babies, but there is clearly something on your mind. What’s wrong?” you cut to the chase, you call it your mom instincts. You picked them up while watching over your grid kids -who have turned out to be amazing brothers.

“I’m leaving Ferrari at the end of the season. I wanted you to hear it from me first,” Carlos says carefully, observing every little muscle you move in reaction.

“Why?”

“Red Bull offered me a better contract. I really wanted to stay here as your teammate, but I just couldn’t refuse,” Carlos attempts to reassure you, but you can’t hide your disappointment.

“As long as you are happy,” you push down any sadness, feeling a bit guilty and selfish.

“Hey, maybe we will get Scuderia Leclerc,” Carlos suggests teasingly, stealing Hervé from you as he speaks.

“I am going to get an espresso, want one?” you ask Carlos as you step into the motorhome.

“No, I’ll get one after baby time,” he says, engrossed in playing with his godson.

You run into Fred, who is also waiting for a coffee. He shifts a little, more anxious than normal.

“Carlos told me he is leaving,” you break the ice, tension loosening.

“Yes, it was a shock at first, but he’s been very helpful in choosing a replacement,” Fred replies, making you curiouser. “As soon as the contract is signed you will be the first to know,” he pats your shoulder and walk away. You take the small cup and return to Carlos who is enthralled with Hervé.

“You know, babies are fun and all until you can’t give them back to their parents,” you smile a little bitterly. You love your kids, but there is something to be said for how hard it is to have a tiny human completely dependent on you.

“What did I do?” Carlos panics as Hervé starts crying.

“Nothing, nothing,” you say calmly, taking your son carefully into your arms. “He’s just hungry, excuse me.”

Carlos watches your eyes soften with affection, it’s like nothing he’s ever seen before. You seem like two different people. Ruthless and cruel as a driver, but warm and loving as a mother. He admires it. You disappear to your drivers room and he steals your untouched espresso.

“Someone’s hungry,” Charles looks amused as the way Hervé’s tiny hand grips your shirt.

“Won’t even let me drink an espresso,” you shakes your head adoringly. Charles locks the door behind you, Gabriel sleeping soundly in the pack and play.

“I don’t blame him, he has the twenty-four seven access that every man dreams of,” Charles jokes as you roll your eyes.

“You have the same access,” you lightly smack your husband’s arm. “Now, wake Gabi up to eat,” you sit down in the plush couch you added to the small space. Charles barely touches Gabi before he cries.

“Shh, it’s okay, your mama will feed you soon,” Charles whispers, sitting beside you and helping you set up.

“At least they are hungry at the right time,” you sigh, leaning against him. With the time on the clock, you should have just enough time to pump, nap, and make it to your pre-race duties. “I really couldn’t do this without you. You are the best support,” you feel your energy drain as you pay careful attention to the babies.

“Mon amour, not only would I do anything for you, I have responsibilities as the babies father too,” Charles kisses your cheek.

“I really don’t know what I would do without you, tu es l’amour de ma vie,” you turn to look at him, love filling your tired eyes. Charles repeats your words, leaning in to kiss you.

“Let me put them down,” Charles says when the twins start falling asleep. You fight the exhaustion setting in to pump so the babies can eat during the race. Charles doesn’t know how you can do it all, so he does his best to channel your strength when taking care of them during the races. As soon as the babies are sleeping, he turns to you and finds you mostly asleep. Charles sits back down on the couch, cuddling you as you drift off.

You wake up to your alarm, a blanket covering you as you lay on Charles.

“Feeling ready?” Charles asks, smoothing your hair.

“As I’ll ever be,” you yawn, nuzzling back into Charles’ side. He fights a laugh, holding you closer. “I don’t wanna get up,” you murmur.

“I know, but you have a strategy meeting then the drivers parade and the race. Plus, it’s the end of the triple header, we have a whole week to lay around the house,” Charles reminds you. He noticed how you struggle with balancing your time on race weekends, especially when it comes to napping. Your team has dealt with your crankiness and forgetfulness, so Charles does his best to help.

“We can sleep in,” you sigh happily.

“As long as the babies let us,”

“I can’t wait for them to grow up. And to think I thought about having more,” you pout, sitting up. A gentle knock sounds through the room.

“Y/n, meeting then workout in five,” Carlos reminds you. You begrudgingly get up from the couch, wishing race weekends were as easy as show up, get in, and drive. You’ve thought about retirement more so far this season than ever before in your career.

The strategy meeting, warm up, and drivers parade drags on, and you return to your drivers room to change.

“Enzo! When did you get in?” you hug your brother-in-law. You knew he was showing up to support Arthur, but you were unsure when he was arriving.

“About an hour ago. I had to come see my nephews and sister,” Enzo squeezes you as Charles gapes.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Charles asks, affronted that his own brother disregarded him.

“Have you won world championships? Carry my nephews? No. Until you do so, Y/n is more important,” Lorenzo teases, as any good brother does.

“Enzo,” you lightly smack his shoulder. “Why don’t you and Charles go get a coffee while I change,” you suggest, waiting for them to leave before changing.

Sometimes you think that rookie you would be astounded by your pre race routine. Rather than keeping to yourself and clearing headspace, you spent time with your babies and Charles. Headphones on until the last possible minute has turned into talking to your team and Carlos.

“Is it too late to retire?” you joke to yourself, slightly annoyed as you change into your fireproofs.

“Please don’t,” you turn around, catching Charles unabashedly checking you out.

“Charles!” you gasp scandalously, pulling your race suit over your shoulders. You didn’t realize he returned without Lorenzo.

“Ma cherie,” he laughs, standing up and wrapping his arms around you.

“I have to go, I’ll see you in the garage?” you press a kiss to his lips, melting into his arms before bending down to put on your boots.

“Of course, drink some water on the way,” he says, handing you your water.

“See you soon,” you squeeze his hand, rushing to the garage for final checks and to bring the car out. Charles appears before you get into the car for warm up laps.

“Safe and sound, asleep in your room,” Charles shows you the baby monitor as you braid back your hair.

“Awww, soon they will be old enough to be in the garage,” you smile, heart swelling with unimaginable love. “Hopefully by then I have a few more championships,” you chuckle, finishing the braid and putting your ear monitors in.

“You can do it, I’ll be here after the anthem,” Charles says, helping you finish getting ready and into your car.

“I’ll be back,” your eyes crinkle as your flip your visor down. Charles backs up as your crew surrounds the car.

Your brain switches into go mode. You haven’t won this race yet, third on the podium is the closest you’ve gotten so your pole position is a welcome advantage.

Charles watches you battle, and when you have a healthy lead with fifteen laps left, he returns to your drivers room to feed the babies and bring them to the parc ferme. Arthur bought them little headphones to protect their ears right after they were born.

“Ready to see your mommy,” Lorenzo grabs Gabriel from Charles when he walks back into the garage after watching from Haas.

“You could always help feed and change them, you know,” Charles suggests, watching you push on your final lap.

“Hey, you’re the father. I’m just the uncle who gets to enjoy the baby time. Hopefully more next year,” Lorenze makes funny faces at Gabi who babbles and giggles.

“Next year?”

“Did I say next year? I meant next week,” Lorenzo brushes it off. “I love you, but if you spit up on my polo, you are going right back to your father. He isn’t as fun as I am,” Lorenzo warns Gabi. All he gets is a blank stare and gummy smile.

“She’s done it!” Charles cheers as you cross the line. Lorenzo and Charles are careful to make their way to the front. As soon as you see Charles and Lorenzo standing with the kids, you audibly squeal. Arthur rushes over from his car after weighing in to congratulate you. He finished in the points, but just outside the podium.

“Oh my god,” happy tears well in your eyes. “You don’t think I could bring them to the podium, do you?” you ask Arthur who just amusedly shakes his head.

“Marketing would love it though,” Arthur chuckles.

“Oh, let me go take off my helmet and weigh in,” you rush away, wanting to get back to your family as fast as possible.

“Great race!” Carlos pats your shoulder after you weigh in.

“Thanks, I gotta go see my babies,” you throw on your P1 hat and return to where your babies are being entertained by Fred and Arthur.

“Hand them here,” you extend your arms, joyful look momentarily turning deadly as you give the security a warning glance. You step against the barrier, leaning against Charles as Lorenzo takes a photo.

“Fantastic drive, mon amour,” Charles kisses your cheek. You are to distracted by the babies for a proper kiss.

“Family photo, get in Arthur and Lorenzo,” Fred cuts in.

“Oh, Maman will love this,” Arthur smiles.

“Hello, little ones! Who are the best grid babies,” you are surprised a little bit by Ollie’s baby talk behind you, but that goes away when you realize it’s him. “Interview time,” Ollie says, a twinge of sadness in his voice as you hand the babies back.

“That includes me, the media waits for no one,” Arthur shakes his head, leaving for the media pen.

“My first podium with my son,” you wrap an arm around Ollie as you head towards Hinchcliffe.

“I’m excited for the family dinner next week,” Ollie tells you. He’s said as much all week, well, all of your grid kids have.

“I love having my kids around. You don’t always have to wait for an invite,” you remind him. You have a guest room specifically for your grid kids.

“I know. I just don’t want to impose, or interfere with any chances of another sibling,” Ollie laughs as Carlos finishes his interview.

“Well, the next time I have another kid will be when I’m retired,” you shake your head, giving Ollie a little nudge forward.

Later in your driver’s room, Arthur and Lorenzo claim the couch, watching you and Charles clean and pack. You showered immediately after getting back to the room, sticky from champagne then fed the babies while Charles relaxed for a few minutes after he spend hours caring for them alone.

“I just wonder who Fred will get to replace Carlos. It will be weird not having him as my teammate,” you vent, taking shirts off hangers.

“Me,” Arthur reveals, causing both you and Charles to stop packing.

“Really?” your eyes widen, praying it isn’t a joke.

“Scuderia Leclerc is real! I haven’t told Maman yet, I am waiting to finalize the contract,” Arthur lets out a grunt as you and Charles practically tackle him.

“I’m so proud I could cry,”

“You are,” Arthur panics a little as tears roll down your cheeks. You swat away his hand, grabbing a tissue to dry your eyes.

“Stupid hormones,” you wave the tissue.

“You sure you aren’t pregnant again?” Lorenzo teases.

“You and Ollie both today,” you shake your head, composing yourself. “Not until I’m retired. It’s hard on Cha and I to raise the twins on the road,” you sit on the bench, busying your hands with folding.

“Maman is going to start bothering you about children soon too,” Charles turns the attention back to Arthur. Lorenzo nods in agreement, happy to put Arthur in the hot seat.

“I’m too young,” Arthur defends himself as you stifle a laugh.

“You aren’t much younger than me. Charles, Enzo, can you get Arthur and I a water and a snack? The race was brutal,” you ask. With a nod, Charles heads out to the main hospitality area to get a couple bottles. Lorenzo seems suspicious, but follows anyway.

“You’ve thought about retiring,” Arthur states like it’s common knowledge. Sure there have been rumors, but they are from untrustworthy sources.

“It’s crossed my mind. I wasn’t lying, it would be much easier to stay home and raise the twins. But I want them to see me race and win. On the other hand, I don’t want to race so long that I can’t have another,” you frown, leaning back against the wall.

“I get it. You could always take time off again. It isn’t unheard of to come out of retirement. Not that you have to right now, but in five years maybe,” Arthur suggests.

“I’ve never seen myself anywhere other than Ferrari. The chances of them bringing me back on again are so small,”

“Even if you go to Williams, you’d at least be racing,” Arthur points out.

“Michael returned and went to Mercedes. Fernando retired for a few years, twice. A couple years off in the future does sound nice. Especially if I return before a rookie takes my number,” you consider the possibilities.

“Well, it isn’t happening yet, no point in dwelling on it,” Arthur stands up and helps you pack.

“Dwelling on what?” Charles asks, handing you a water bottle. Lorenzo follows with a plate of snacks.

“What our names will look like when shortened,” you smoothly lie.

“I’m sure they will do the same thing as they did before,” Charles goes along with it. You and Arthur snack while Lorenzo and Charles pack.

“Let’s get back to the hotel before the kids wake up,” you say as you zip up your bag. Arthur grabs the diaper bag and one car seat as Charles grabs another bag and the other car seat.

“No partying tonight?” Kimi asks, running into you as you leave Ferrari.

“No, I leave that to you young people. I’m too old for that, unless I’ve won a championship,” you shake your head. Who would’ve thought that you’d turn into a homebody.

“You aren’t that old, you are what? 26?” Kimi asks.

“Oh honey, try 29. Go have fun, we will see you soon,” you send him off to where other drivers are waiting - plus Fernando. The guy is almost 50 and parties like the rookies. He retired twice and still came back to drive again.

“You could party too,” Lorenzo tells Arthur. Arthur just shakes his head, adjusting the weight of the bag.

“No, I am looking forward to a soft bed and greasy food,” Arthur declares, mind anywhere but partying until late.

“Dinner with Maman on Monday, don’t forget,” Lorenzo reminds your small group before getting into his car.

The rest of the night is a blur, getting dinner, feeding the babies, getting them to sleep. Charles collapses into the bed beside you after showering.

“Arthur and I were talking about me retiring,” you say into the darkness, causing Charles to wake up from his drowsy state.

“What? Why?”

“Well, I want the kids to remember me racing, and I also want to maybe have a little girl but without returning immediately. I won’t do it immediately, I need a couple more championships under my belt,” you explain quietly. Charles wraps an arm around you, rubbing small circles onto your arm and resting his head on your shoulder.

“I understand. It’s your choice when it happens, and if you decide down the road that you don’t want another baby then i will support that too,” Charles replies sleepily. “You deserve to enjoy your job for as long as possible while also having the life you want.”

“You are thinking about me being pregnant again, aren’t you?” a grin creeps onto your face, reaching to run a hand through his hair.

“Maybe. I can’t help it, you just look so sexy all the time,” Charles shifts so he can get a better look at you in the dark.

“I can and will say the same thing about you. You know, it’s never too early to start practicing,” your hand curls slightly in his hair as you pull him down to kiss you.

And practice you do. Many, many, many times over the next four years.

“Arthur! Have you seen Gabi?” you ask, hoping you don’t have to run around the paddock looking for your toddler. Hervé is his daddy’s boy, always stuck to Charles, but Gabi is your runner.

“No, but Kimi was just here not long ago,” Arthur pops out of his drivers room.

“Him and his uncles, what am I going to do with him?” you rest your head against the wall.

“Relax, one of your grid kids will return him. Just enjoy your last race,” Arthur smiles, excited for your retirement surprise after the race.

“Relax? When have I ever done that?” you fight a smile. The past few years have been great. You rewon your title and kept it, now you are fighting for your fifth.

“Are you worried that I’ll take your championship?” Arthur has been on your heels all year, and while you are proud, a little breathing room in the championship would be nice.

“No,” you don’t sound convincing at all.

“Good, fear me,” Arthur dodges your attempt to hit his arm.

“Y/n, I cannot believe you sent a spy,” you turn around to see Gabi hanging off of Toto, who doesn’t look or sound mad despite his words.

“Mr. Wolff, I am so sorry,” you rush to grab your son, who is just laughing despite your frantic apologies.

“Don’t be, it’s just like when Jack was little. I just couldn’t let Kimi bring him to our strategy meeting,” Toto chuckles. Your boy really does have the paddock wrapped around his finger.

“Wanna play with my new toy?” Arthur asks Gabi, code for the zippers on his backpack. Arthur follows Gabi into his drivers room.

“You will be missed around here. You know that, don’t you?” Toto asks, seeing the young racer hungry for a seat. He tried to sign you back then but the stakeholders were against it.

“Well, I would hope so, I’ve been around for a long time,” you joke in an attempt to not tear up. Since you announced your retirement the fan tributes and statements from other drivers have made you an emotional wreck.

“I know this isn’t the end for you, you have the spirit of a true racer and not one ready to permanently retire. Now, I know that all you know is Ferrari, but it would be a shame to never see you drive again. Let’s talk over the winter break,” Toto says before leaving. Any thoughts of crying turns to joy sparking inside you.

You lean back against the wall, taking in the details of the motorhome.

“Don’t start reminiscing now, you haven’t even retired yet,” a familiar voice pulls you out of your trance.

“Seb! What are you doing here?” you gasp, pushing off the wall to give your former teammate a hug.

“Well, I had to come watch you race one last time,” Seb looks at you proudly. “You are still my eager young teammate, hungry for a podium.”

“Sure, old man. You are just mad we have the same amount of title. Tell it to me straight, how bad is retirement?”

“Oh, seeing your children grow up erases any pain of not racing,” Seb reassures you.

“Right,”

“It’s okay to miss it, you’ve spent your whole life racing,” you look around the hallway and drag Seb into your driver room.

“I want to return to racing,” you admit like it’s a scandal.

“Does Ferrari know that?” Seb asks, worried about the possibility of you returning.

“Yes, but Fred hasn’t said anything about a space being open in the future,” you frown.

“Ferrari isn’t everything. Plenty of us retired with another team,”

“But Ferrari are the only ones who supported me and took a chance on me,”

“That’s not true. Plenty of teams considered giving you offers,”

“But they didn’t.”

“Y/n, if you even give an inkling to the press that you want to return, teams will reach out. Trust me,”

“Well, Toto did just say something that sounded suspiciously close to an offer,”

“Then negotiate. Surprise the world and come back,” Seb encourages you. Before he left Ferrari, he promised he would always be in your corner. The same promise you’ve given to anyone you’ve driven with, except for Arthur. He’s a special case, you don’t want to make him think you are the reason for thing he achieved himself.

“Thanks Seb, you always know what to say,” you exhale a deep breath. “Why are you really here?”

“Ferrari is throwing you a surprise retirement party after the race. They invited former teammates and drivers you were close to,” Seb reveals, you knew there would be a party anyway.

“So you don’t care about my championship? How rude,” you tease as he heads to the door.

“Yeah yeah, go train and get ready for the race,” Seb leaves you alone, hoping you don’t stay in your head.

“Oh, let’s train in your room today!” your trainer blocks you from entering your usual training spot.

“Okay,” you try to peer around him, but get corralled away from the room.

Once you return to your room, you find Charles playing on the floor with Hervé and Gabi.

“Everyone is acting strange today, even Arthur,” you sigh, getting ready for your final meeting in the garage before the installation lap.

“They think you don’t know about the party. I’m going to miss this view,” Charles watches you pull on your fireproofs and race suit.

“These are coming home with me, don’t worry,” you wink. Charles stands up so he can do your hair.

“I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished,” Charles whispers, hugging you from behind after he ties off the braid.

“I wouldn’t be here without you,” You wrap your arms around his, leaning into him.

“Mama, up,” Hervé reaches up at you, his sleepy blue eyes fighting a nap. You pull away from Charles, leaning down to pick him up. A quick knock sounds through the room before your door opens.

“Ready to head to the garage?” Arthur asks. It hits him that the next time you will all be like this, you won’t be his teammate.

“Yeah,” you shift Hervé’s weight, ready to hand him off to Charles before Arthur stops you.

“Let’s bring them with us, they won’t be a bother,” Arthur suggests. Charles follows behind you, the backpack full of kid essentials. Gabi holds your hand, having chosen to walk beside you.

When you get to the garage, the crew starts applauding and you lose it. Tears stream down your face as you look around.

“I promised myself that I wouldn’t cry. I love you all so much, you are the best team I could ask for. Today’s drive is for all of you,” you thank them, letting go of Gabi’s hand to wipe the tears away. Arthur wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a side hug.

“Alright boys, let’s let mommy work,” Charles says quietly, taking the boys out of the garage. You put on your headset, trying to get back into the zone.

“You have been and will continue to hear this a lot this weekend, but thank you for everything you’ve done for the Scuderia. You have created a legacy of excellence and your name will be remembered forever by the Tifosi and Ferrari,” Fred starts the meeting. You mouth a simple thank you as the strategists and engineers take over. Arthur grabs your hand and gives it a quick squeeze. You squeeze back before letting go, letting him know you are okay.

After the meeting you take extra time to talk with your team and thank them, making a mental note to add a handwritten note for them on this year’s Christmas card. You and Arthur do some final warm ups, getting your reflexes up to speed before you get into the car.

“One last installation lap,” you tell Charles, a bittersweet smile on your face. You get your earpieces in, watching Charles hand your gloves to the boys.

“You two wanna help Mommy get ready?” Charles asks, still not sure how much they can hear with the headphones on.

“Yeah!” they reply in unison. Twin telepathy has to be real. You pull your balaclava on and put the helmet on before holding your hands out. Charles helps each of them put a glove on.

“Y/n! Time to head out,” one of your engineers tells you.

“I’ll see you after the lap?” you ask Charles, knowing the answer. He kisses the top of the helmet, sending you on your way.

The world fades away on your lap, it’s just you, the car, and the track. There’s no thoughts of retirement or the championship, it’s like you are one with the car. You relay the necessary information to the team before getting out. Normally you’d take the umbrella and head right back to the garage, but today you don’t mind hanging around and enjoying the excitement. Kimi, Ollie, Jack, and Oscar come find you.

“When I first met you guys, you were lanky boys. Now look at you, all grown up,” you tell them. Their thin frames bulked with muscle, no longer the young adults you took under your wing. Each of them designed special helmets with little tributes to you. Ollie’s has a mama bear and a cub, Kimi has a phrase in Italian, Oscar has your racing number on his helmet, and Jack has a grandma emoji on his.

“Promise you’ll visit often?” Kimi asks, a little scared to lose you and your advice.

“Of course. I will miss my boys. I may not be here every weekend, but you all are always welcome in my home. We will still have dinners,” you promise, extending an arm in an invitation for a group hug. Ollie launches himself into you, Kimi following right after.

“I’ll take care of them,” Oscar promises, having adopted more rookies of his own.

“I know you will,” you smile, watching them tear off one by one to do their pre race rituals.

“Thank you for being the best grid grandma,” Jack thanks you.

“I’ll send you cookies,” you promise before turning to Ollie. “There’s no one else I’d rather take my seat,” you tell Ollie, especially proud of him. He was the first person you suggested to Fred.

“I’ll honor you with it,” Ollie promises before leaving you alone again.

“Do you have a moment for our F1 TV viewers?” Will Buxton asks. It’s rare to get a driver interview at this point of a race day, so you indulge him.

“I suppose so,” you adjust the umbrella so it blocks more of the sun.

“What is going through your mind today?” Will starts, asking the question that every reporter wants to know.

“A lot. There are so many memories and things I’m grateful for, I just want to take it all in. A lot has changed since I first stepped foot in the paddock. I think I’ve spend most of my day trying not to cry at all the tributes and thoughtful things everyone has to say. It just means so much to me that my kids have had the chance to see me drive as well,” you try to articulate the whirlwind of things you feel.

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve cemented yourself in F1 history. Any thoughts for the fans watching here and at home?”

“Thank you, for your support and criticism. I know driver dominance is hard to watch as fans. Four, hopefully five, championships later, I’m just grateful to have had the chance to drive. I don’t think this is the last you will see of me, maybe I’ll try rally or something,” you joke.

“Well, I can say for all of us that we are excited to see what you do next. Thank you for your time and congratulations on your retirement,” Will says before the camera cuts. “I can’t say this live, but I certainly hope you retire as Champion of the World. Keep an eye on your phone, we are looking for guest commentators next season,” Will tells you. You thank him before heading back to the garage.

For once, the celebrity guests are former Ferrari drivers and personnel. It’s nice spending the bit of time before the anthem reconnecting. Hell, even Max returned. He retired the year after you came back from pregnancy, holding to the statement that he would retire earlier than fans would expect.

“Good luck, Mommy,” Hervé hugs you before you leave the garage, kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, baby,” you hug him tightly. Gabi is currently talking Arthur’s ear off, well as much as he can for a four year old.

“Give Mommy a good luck hug, Gabi,” you tell him. He rushes over to hug you. Charles stops talking to Arthur to wish you luck. You stand up, Gabi hugging you leg.

“Good luck, show them why you are a four time world champion,” Charles kisses you. Arthur gags across the garage.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Alright love birds, I don’t want a fine for being late,” Arthur calls to you. You begrudgingly step away, waving goodbye to the twins. You and Arthur share the umbrella as you stand on the track.

“Don’t give me the win, I want to fight for it like I have every year,” you say quietly, knowing Arthur would sacrifice his title to let you go out a champion.

“Wasn’t planning on it. The only way I will back down if if given team orders,” Arthur tells you.

“Don’t listen to that, unless we would crash,” you insist. Just because you are retiring doesn’t mean you should get hand outs, unless it’s in the form of money.

“It’s been an honor getting to drive with you as my teammate. I never thought you would be my sister, or teammate, or best friend, but here we are. Thank you,” Arthur hugs you when you get to your cars, your final front row lockout.

“Thank you for being the best little brother, and a great teammate. Love you, Thur,” you hug him back. Fighting any tears that threaten to spill.

“Don’t cry, you’ll be back in a few years. I just know it,” Arthur reassures you as he pulls away.

“And you will be world champion, just not this year,” you grin, heading to your car to get your helmet on and get into the car. Before you climb in, you look around at the crew. “Thank you all, I wouldn’t be successful without your hard work,” you tell them, your sincere tone adding to their motivation.

You climb in, instantly entering race mode. All sentimental emotions leaving as you focus on the race. Time ticks away and it’s just you and the car, waiting for the green light on the formation lap. You’ve done thousands of laps, and it’s time to add 58 more.

The team watches as you drive effortlessly, defending and attacking like it’s your second nature. And an hour and a half later, you cross the finish line one last time for Ferrari as a champion.

“Y/n Leclerc, once again, you are Champion of the World. Thank you for everything you have done for us at Ferrari, it’s been an honor being your race engineer,” your engineer tells you as you cross the line.

“We did it,” you fight the tears, trying to focus on the track. “Thank you everyone, for all the hours, hard work, and late nights that you’ve put in. We’ve spent so much time together and I will remember this forever. This championship is all for you. Thank you Tifosi for all your support, through the ups and downs you were there. Forza Ferrari Sempre,” you say before turning the radio off, driving a little slower on your cool down lap than you normally would.

You don’t jump out immediately after parking the car. You sit a few extra seconds, taking your time removing the steering wheel and seat belt. When you stand on top of the car, the crowd roars.

“You did it!” Arthur cheers, hugging you as soon as you get out of the car.

“Let’s go see the team,” you pat his back. Running to the sea of red one last time.

It’s hard to imagine what will come next in those moments of pure joy.

You and Charles spend the next year enjoying being parents, and you do hop into the commentary booth for a few weekends. Toto reaches out, extending a contract offer whenever you are ready to take it. You talk when you attend races to cheer on your grid kids and Arthur. And following your own footsteps, you reveal your pregnancy to the public the next year - a healthy baby girl named Emilia Vittoria who is spoiled by her racing family.

Carlos is the second person to take Hervé and Gabi karting, you gifted them their own for their fifth birthday. Arthur had the honor of being the first since you were pregnant at the time.

After being away for four years, you rejoin the grid beside Kimi, racing for another four years before retiring for the last time. You don’t win another WDC, but you get to enjoy it while it lasted and retire happy.

[navybrat817]

The Dad Diaries: Grief

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky explains grief to Jamie as best as he can when you need a minute to yourself. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, touch of fluff, grief, loss of a friend, reflecting, talk of death, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Another part to the The Dad Diaries . Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky could hear your cries before he reached the bedroom, the sound causing a lump to form in his throat. He could picture you hastily wiping at your face when he knocked. You were in pain and it hurt him to know you were hurting. The worst part was that it wasn’t the kind of pain he could fix by patching it up. It was the kind of hurt that lingered beneath the surface before it clawed its way out.

Grief.

“Do you need anything, doll?” He asked.

“Just give me a minute, please!” You called out, your voice close to sounding like your normal self. You were trying your best to be strong when what you needed was a moment to break. People didn’t realize the weight of the things they carried until they buckled under them.

And you didn’t need to be strong all the time.

“Mama?” Jamie asked, reaching a hand out toward the door.

Bucky kissed the top of his head. “Mama needs a minute,” he whispered before he held him against his chest. He hoped his smell and steady heart beat soothed him. “She’ll snuggle up with you soon, okay?”

If anything could make you feel better apart from being in his arms, it was having your son nuzzle against you.

Jamie made a small sound, his lower lip trembling. “Mama,” he said again.

Bucky didn’t take it to heart that his son wanted you. He understood that there were days when he’d want his dad and other days he’d want his mom and times when he’d want both of you. If anything, he felt proud that his son wanted to go to you. Maybe he sensed that you needed support and love.

“I know you want your mama,” he said, carrying him back to the living room. “But you are stuck with me for another minute.”

Jamie moved his head, his eyes set in a stubborn stare. He looked so much like you at that moment, demanding with a look to know what was the matter and how to fix it. What could he say?

“Jamie, you know how you have your Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam and Aunt Nat and everyone else?” He asked, a sad smile touching his lips at the happy look in his little boy’s eyes at the mention of his friends. He wanted his child to hold onto that innocence for as long as he could. “Well, your mama had a friend who was going to be like an aunt to you, too.”

Was. Past tense. Because your friend recently passed away. You wondered if she knew how important she was to you. If she knew how she impacted your life. She was too young in your eyes to go. Still had so many things she wanted to do. While death is fair in that it comes for everyone, it doesn’t always feel fair when someone you care for is taken away too soon.

The one thing you were thankful for was that she was no longer in pain.

“Mama’s friend, your aunt, isn’t here anymore. She misses her and she’s sad that she’s gone.”

“Mama sad?” Jamie repeated, his eyes wide.

“Yeah, Nugget. She’s very sad. Grieving. And grief is… so many things,” Bucky explained, swallowing a bit as he felt a crack in his heart. “It’s loss and mourning. It’s love that you carry inside and it no longer has a place to go.”

Jamie gazed at him, soaking up every word. His son was too young to hear something like this. Too precious. But if life taught him anything, it’s that it was too short and there was no guarantee of tomorrow.

“Some days the grief comes out of nowhere. You never really know when it’ll happen or why. You may hear a song you’ve heard dozens of times before or catch a scent of something familiar and it triggers a memory or feeling,” he told him, kissing his forehead again because he needed to ground himself. “You think you’re fine and then you fall apart.”

That was exactly what had happened a few minutes prior. You were smiling one moment as the three of you sat in the living room and the next you burst into tears before you rushed out. Bucky wished like hell he could’ve manifested your sadness into something tangible so he could snuff it out. It wasn’t his battle to fight, but he could be by your side to wipe the tears away if you let him. Or whisper words of care. Or to say nothing at all. Some didn’t always want to hear words of comfort or hope when they just needed to feel.

He would be there to give you whatever you needed or asked for.

“It’s okay to feel those feelings, Jamie. I get sad, too. There’s no timeline for healing or grieving. It takes as long as it takes. And we’re lucky in a way to feel things so strongly,” he told him. You were always understanding and patient on his off days. He more than lucked out by having you as his wife. “You know what your Uncle Vis says grief is? That it’s love persevering,” he added, bouncing him a bit to make him smile. It put a smile on his face, too. “And your mama has so much love to give.”

“So do you.”

Bucky looked toward the doorway where you stood. Bloodshot and puffy eyes, but with a small smile on your beautiful face. He wanted to hold you and remind you that you weren’t alone. “Hey,” he said as Jamie reached for you. “I think he wants to cheer you up.”

“Is that right? Well, I think a snuggle with my boys is just the thing I need,” you said as you took a seat beside Bucky and took Jamie into your arms. “Sorry I rushed off like that.”

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered. He had plenty of moments where he needed to step away and compose himself when his thoughts got too loud. “We just want you to be okay,” he added, kissing your temple before Jamie grabbed your face.

“Mama no sad,” he said, forcing your cheeks up in a smile. The sight almost brought tears to Bucky’s eyes because it was so simple and heartfelt. “No sad.”

You giggled, a soft sound, before it erupted into full blown laughter. It soothed the crack he felt earlier in his heart. The room felt brighter, especially when Jamie joined in with the laughter. “Not sad, Nugget,” you assured him before you looked at your husband, love shining through like always. “Not anymore.”

The grief from your loss would come again in waves. Just like the days Bucky mourned the parts of his life he lost and couldn’t get back. Some days were harder than others, especially when regret and “what if’s” came to mind, but the important thing was that neither of you allowed yourselves to live alone or lose yourselves in grief. Not when there was so much to be thankful for.

You felt what you needed to feel. You asked for help and leaned on each other. And you carried on together.

Because what is grief, if not love persevering?

I lost more than one loved one recently and writing this helped me process some of the loss. We all need someone like Bucky. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[w0rmm1lk]

I saw that you were receiving requests and I was wondering if you could write a Bakugou x male reader angst (both adults and married if possible, but it doesn't necessarily have to be.) where they There's an argument and the reader leaves the house at night and comes back just a week later (because Bakugou said some bad things. I don't think he would do that but I love angst where the character almost literally has to kneel down and ask the reader for forgiveness 😭😭😭) I'm sorry if it's too detailed and forgive my English, I'm Brazilian and I'm using Google Translate ☠️... (oh! and with a happy ending please🥺)

Yayyy first request hehe

Summary: reader and bakugo got into a small argument about bakugo not being home enough due to his hero work, bakugo being himself the argument escalated into something worse.

reader: Male

other details: Hero!Bakugo, Readers job not mentioned (can be read as hero reader or other). It is mentioned that reader has a sibling but details about them are not specified.

warnings: angst-(fluff at end), swearing(its bakugo what did you expect) implied married reader and bakugo but not mentioned. Kinda ooc but I tried my best 🥲

You and bakugo had been together for quite some time. You first started the relationship when he was in his second year at UA, but you had known eachother since middle school. So of course you knew eachother very well, and were very close. Or well, as close as you can be with bakugo.

when you first got together he had been quite distant, but you understood. He wasn’t use to this kind of thing, yet it didn’t take him long to adjust. Long story short after he graduated you both ended up moving in together.

you had quickly gotten use to how much bakugo worked. He was so desperate to be the No.1 hero, and of course as his boyfriend/husband you supported him in that. Yet, sometimes you felt that he was more focused on that than you. He was rarely ever home leaving you to do most of the house work, including the laundry, dishes, buying groceries, ect. at first it wasn’t anything to worry about, you were mostly okay with it since you got to stay home most of the time, but sometimes it would get lonley. It was weird… you had been in a relationship for so long and even lived with him yet the house felt so empty and devoid of life. You thought that it was maybe a good idea to bring this up with bakugo. He would understand…right?

You ended up needing to stay up quite late that night waiting for him to return. He always worked overtime just to get his rank higher. He was already in the top ten… why did he worry so much…?

you felt a small jolt of surprise when you heard the front door unlock, sitting up you looked over to see bakugo. Despite being right there he didn’t seem to notice you.

“Katsuki..? Can we talk real quick?” You spoke, trying to seem calm. Despite this your heart was beating like crazy, it felt like some part of you was screaming to not bring up the issues. “Hm? Oh, you’re still awake.” He replied.. yet it seemed quite delayed.

“ah- yeah… but we need to talk.” He looked over with an annoyed expression. “Not right now.” His reply… shocked you to say the least. “Katsuki. It’s important. It’ll be quick I just need to—“ he cut you off with an annoyed sigh. “I said not right now Y/N.”

“This can’t really wait for later—“ he glared. “Do you not get what *not right now* means?” He raised his voice slightly as he spoke, his eyes piercing into your softer gaze. “It’ll be quick—! I swear.” You spoke, hoping that he would take a moment to sit down and hear you out.

he rolled his eyes tilting his head back letting out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” I felt a bit of relief as he accepted. I waited a moment as he sat down on the couch beside me. “The hell do you want? It’s so goddamn late.” Despite him agreeing to speak it was clear how much he didn’t want to.

“i… I was thinking, could you maybe… try spending a bit more time at home…? I know how important your hero work is to you- and I don’t want to stop you from reaching your goal but… we haven’t really spent much time together in the last few months, and— I guess I’ve been kinda lonley…?”

he stared at you, his gaze not breaking for even a second as he spoke. You looked back as you finished, expecting him to understand, but instead you were met with a rather… interesting, expression.

his expression gave off the kinda mood of *are you being serious?*

“that’s what this was about? This is what was so fucking important you just had to talk about it right now?”

what he said… it almost hurt slightly. “What…? What do you mean? I think this is something that’s pretty important.” He rolled his eyes at your response. “Tch, I get how needy you are but I can’t just throw away all my work just for you.”

“what-? I- that’s not what I’m saying-! You’re only ever home at night after I’m asleep and you’re gone once I wake up! I’m not being needy! And asking to see you at least once everyday while living in the same house is not being needy!”

his expression made it clear he was pissed off. “Do you not realise how important my work is? How important it is for me to become no.1? Or does it all not matter to you?!” You stare at him in slight shock, it was weird how much he was misunderstanding the situation.

“that’s not what I mean! I just want to spend more time with you-! If I’m going to be stuck at home all day I at least want to see someone-! Especially you!”

“I can’t just throw away my work to spend my whole day with you! My life doesn’t revolve around you!” He stood up looking down at you.

“Katsuki! That’s not what I mean-! You—“ He cut you off. “If you think I can put everything aside just for you then— you’re mistaken.” There was an awkward silence in the room for just a moment. “You should just go.” You stared at him, your eyes locked onto eachother. “What…?” “Tch— I said you should go-!”

“Katsuki— what are you talking about?!”

“…. You know damn well what I mean.”

the silence started again lasting for a good twenty seconds. You could feel the tears building up yet not spilling. “Fine.” You stood up grabbing your phone and keys walking out the door. You didn’t know what to do but just listen.

you looked at your phone for just a moment before texting your sibling, you didn’t really have anywhere to stay so you hoped they would let you crash at their place for a bit. You stare at the small screen… it was late so you could only hope they were still awake to reply. The amount of relief you felt when your screen lit up and a small notification read

..”sure.”

the next few days passed by so painfully slow. You stared at your phone most the time just hoping to see a notification from Bakugo, some sort of apology, or just a check up. nothing.

it didn’t help that he was quite a popular hero, you couldn’t even watch the news without seeing him.

after a full week past without anything from him, you realise that this was most likley an end to your relationship. All these years thrown away simply because you couldn’t handle not being near him.

you picked up your phone hesitating before sending bakugo a simple message.

“im coming over to grab my stuff. Be there in 20.”

you looked as the message sent, of course he left you on read.

despite it only being a 20 minutes drive, it felt like hours. Your mind was racing, you were nervous, scared to see him. As you walked to the front door you hesitated standing there for a good 30 seconds before finally knocking.

your heart was beating fast as the front door opened. “…come in.” He spoke. He looked more tired than ever, if anything it was a surprise he was even home. You simply nodded, stepping inside. The house looked like shit. You weren’t thinking that to be rude, it genuine looked like bakugo wasn’t doing anything to take care of it.

“y/n i—“ he was cut off staring at you, as you gave him the same glare he sent you a week ago. He averted his eyes like he was holding back tears. “Please— let’s… let’s talk about this….?”

“…what is there to talk about. You made it clear how you feel.”

“i— I had some time to think… a… a lot of time and— i- im… Tch— im fucking sorry okay?!”

you continued to stare at him, though the apology was genuine, you were scared to accept. You didn’t want things to just go back to how they were before.

“please y/n i— I didn’t realise how much I need you.. you’re so god damn important to me… i… took you for granted.”

you stayed silent staring at him. It’s not that you were being rude, you simply didn’t know what to say. You could see the desperation in his eyes but didn’t expect him to start tearing up.

“Y/n… please don’t leave me-! I.. I need you… please…” you watched as he grasped your hands tears pouring down his face as he struggled to even breath.

“im sorry for everything I said I— I had so much time to think and… I didn’t have my priorities straight! So please let’s just… let’s talk over this okay…?”

without a word you lifted a hand up wiping the tears from bakugos eyes before resting a hand on his cheek. “You’ll do better this time right…? It won’t just go back to how it was before…?”

you could see a spark in his eyes now that you finally answered. “I promise-! I— it won’t happen again just— please— don’t leave me…”

you let out a soft sigh. “I won’t leave you. And… I forgive you.” You heald onto his hands gently for just a moment before he pulled you in holding you close.

“i… don’t know how I ever took a man like you for granted.”

(end)

[ooooo-mcyt]

I feel like I’m alone in fandom in thinking Scott (and Cleo) were completely justified in their reactions to their soulbound? Because they weren’t petty in the first session, they were firm, they’d been abandoned and forced to take care of people who weren’t even there or risk dying while watching everyone around them settle into their perfect pairs and shove everyone else aside, so they decided they wouldn’t do that, they’d choose the person who’d been there to provide support and food and a sympathetic ear, and when they said so to Pearl and Martyn, Martyn attacked Cleo! Hit her with an axe until Scott got between the two of them with a shield while Pearl just stood back. I get how them going off on their own feels like abandonment to Pearl and I have a lot of sympathy for her and what she goes through in Double Life, I just don’t get why the fandom sees Scott as having acted unfairly to Pearl - it was Martyn who left her alone, after all, and they didn’t get to talk again until after Scott and Cleo’s start of session crits started and from there, their relationship deteriorated rapidly on both sides, but I don’t really think that can be considered without also considering Martyn and Cleo, whose relationship started and ended in violence. If you could offer any insight into the Scott and Pearl stuff, I’d love to hear it! Your meta is always very interesting and tends to match up well with a lot of my own thoughts so I hope it’ll help me figure them out or give me something new to consider.

I have mixed feelings on the relationship between Pearl and Scott specifically in Double Life.

Scott had every right to feel upset with the setup of the season, and every right to choose his partner. Pearl wasn't 'owed' any kind of relationship, and it's completely reasonable that Scott wouldn't jump at the concept of being tied by 'fate' to someone who wasn't even there- and took quite a bit of damage- during the first episode.

However, I also think Scott was unempathetic toward Pearl during the first episode too. Yes, Scott had a right to feel upset, but Pearl didn't do anything wrong by not jumping to find him first thing in the episode, and I think it was unfair for Scott to frame his discomfort and frustration as a major wrongdoing on Pearl's part. And while Scott didn't owe Pearl a relationship, I also feel like, especially given their history from the previous season, Scott was callous toward her feelings.

It's complicated. Scott could have- probably should have- been more empathetic toward Pearl, less accusatory and dismissive. I do think he was harsh, and I do think a lot of his anger in the beginning was misplaced, but he was not half as cruel as some people claim, and he did not set out to intentionally isolate her, and I think a lot of people hold Scott far too responsible for everything else than happened to Pearl in Double Life.

Pearl was rejected by Martyn, probably just as harshly as by Scott, to be honest. Pearl was insulted and called a curse by Ren. Pearl tried to be friendly with the Ranchers just for that to fall apart and leave her feeling even more alone too.

I'd say Pearl was also overly hostile and pushy with Scott, moreso than he deserved. I think she had a lot of anger and grief, I think she was generally unwell, and I think Pearl misplaced a lot of that onto Scott since he was the first person to reject her.

I think Scott and Pearl both contributed to the breakdown in their relationship because of misplaced anger.

Pearl was a symbol of a loss of agency to Scott, a cage, a chain, the universe forcibly binding him to someone else without his decision. Pearl made this worse, both by going off alone and taking significant damage in the first episode, and by later going out of her way to taunt and target him. Pearl wasn't trying to take away his choice, but she was proof he had very little.

Similarly, Scott was a symbol of isolation and rejection to Pearl, mocking her, damning her to loneliness, labeling her as curse, a person not worthy of a soulmate. Scott made this worse with his callousness from the beginning, blaming Pearl for things that weren't really wrong of her. Scott wasn't trying to isolate her, but he was proof she was utterly alone.

A lot of their resentment toward each other was less tied to what the other did to them (although they both did things to hurt the other) and more about what the other represented to them, real and valid hurt or repulsion mixing with misplaced anger being pinned to a 'reasonable' target.

(also scott and pearl's resentment was very tied in with cleo and martyn's resentment which is a whole other topic and admittedly it's been quite a while since i've watched martyn or cleo's double life pov so i can't comment too much on that half of the divorce quartet right now)

Generally it bugs me when the fandom tries to make Scott and Pearl's relationship in Double Life black and white, as if one of them was just selfishly trying to hurt the other, when I really see their relationship as a situation built on- half valid and half misplaced- mutual resentment in which they both hurt each other and granted the other far too little sympathy.