#like a child waiting for their christmas's gifts
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I wrote a Destiel ficlet for New Year's Eve. I scheduled it to be posted at midnight in my country (France). I'm so excited for you to read it.
I like what I did, and this doesn't happen very often. I'm enjoying the feeling. I can't wait for it to be posted and I hope you'll like it 😁
WAIT, wait! I'm trying to stay chill and patient...
#destiel#deancas#dean winchester#castiel#I wrote a little ficlet#writing fanfiction#I'm so excited for it to be posted#like a child waiting for their christmas's gifts#my gift is knowing what you think about it#new year's eve#the post is ready#waiting for midnight#would I be able to wait until then?#I guess we'll see#destiel ficlet
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Nena and Sol
Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
@girlgenius1111's Sol x Child!Reader
Summary: You want your Mama and Papa
You don’t know why you moved in with Ingrid.
You don’t know a lot actually like your times tables and how to do your laces and why your middle sister gets all blushy when she meets Tia Ale’s sister.
But you especially don’t know why you moved in with Ingrid.
All you really know is one day you came home from school and Papa was packing your bags and Sol was helping you into your coat.
You went to the airport that evening, Sol letting you have the window seat even though she had gazed longingly out of it as you made the long flight from Norway to Spain.
Ingrid met you in the lobby as the two of you were escorted through security. She’d given you a big hug and then given a smaller one to Sol, who begrudgingly hugged her back.
You don’t know a lot but you do know that Ingrid and Sol didn’t get along for a while. It was kind of weird because you’re all sisters and sisters have to love each other.
That’s the rule.
Ingrid’s your idol.
When you grow up, you want to be a footballer just like her.
You guess Sol is kind of your idol too. You don’t know what Sol wants to be when she grows up but you imagine it’s something cool like Ingrid’s football.
“Oof,” Your middle sister says as you go bounding onto her bed. She lifts her head up off her pillow, looks at you and sighs. “It’s early.”
“Uh-huh!” You say excitedly,” Come on! Come on! Come on!”
"Nena, it's early," Sol says again, sitting up and blindly reaching behind her for Scout to pop his head up.
"But it's Spanish Christmas!"
You're very excited as Sol finally looks at you properly, wiggling on her bed happily as Scout gives you kisses on the cheeks.
'Spanish Christmas' as you so eloquently named it had been Ingrid's idea. You'd been kind of sad to learn that Mapi wasn't coming home to Norway with you and your sisters. Instead, she was staying in Spain with Bagheera on Christmas day. That made you sad so Ingrid said that all four (six if you counted Bagheera and Scout) of you could celebrate Christmas a bit early and exchange gifts with Mapi.
Spanish Christmas was the day before the flight back home which is why Sol's suitcase is already waiting and packed by her door.
"Sol!" You squeak as she flops down on her bed again," Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"
Sol sighs and her arms reach out for you. You try to squirm away but Sol does cool things like rock climbing so she's got very strong hands and they don't let you go at all.
"It's early," She says, shuffling you down under her blankets and pulling your back against her front," Go back to sleep, Nena, and when you wake up, Ingrid will have breakfast ready."
"But-"
"Sleep."
It's nearly lunchtime when Ingrid finally wakes the two of you up.
It's a cute sight. You, open mouthed, pressed up against Sol's front as you snooze. Sol's in that weird in and out bit of sleep where she's already stirring by the time the door creeks open.
"Don't," She says, voice thick with sleep.
Ingrid grins as she sits down on the edge of the bed. "I wasn't going to say anything."
"You're a horrible liar."
"I just think," Ingrid says as she gently reaches to shake you awake," That it's nice that you let her sleep with you. You're a good sister, Sol."
Sol tries not to take it to heart, pushing it off even though a nice feeling spreads through her chest. "She's only little. I couldn't send her away."
You stir as Sol talks, blinking awake until the image of your sisters hovering over you sharpens.
"Ingrid!" You cheer, suddenly filled with energy as you launch yourself at your eldest sister," It's Spanish Christmas! Where's Mapi?" Your head whips around wildly like Ingrid's girlfriend will appear out of thin air. "Spanish Christmas! And then home Christmas with Mama and Papa!"
You're probably the most happy to be returning home to Mama and Papa.
You don't understand why you and Sol were sent away. You don't understand why Mama and Papa aren't discussed when Sol is in the room. You don't understand why Sol's face goes all weird like she's angry and sad and resigned all at once at the mention of Mama and Papa.
Ingrid notices Sol's look as well and she sets you on the ground.
"Why don't you go and help Mapi with the pancakes?" She says," Sol and I will be out in a second."
You kind of want to insist that Sol comes with.
When Mama and Papa are busy with their jobs and doing important things, Sol would look after you. Mama and Papa are very important people so they're busy all the time and Sol got to be in charge of you a lot before the move to Spain where suddenly Ingrid and Mapi were in charge.
Sol makes the best pancakes without eggs because you're allergic but with chocolate chips and whipped cream and sprinkles and warm chocolate milk for special occasions.
But Ingrid looks like she wants to have a conversation with Sol and sometimes those conversations aren't made for little ears like yours so you let Ingrid and Sol have their conversation and run out to Mapi.
"Nena!" She says, lifting you easily with one arm and setting you up on the counters.
"Happy Spanish Christmas!" You cheer," Ingrid said we're having pancakes!"
"We are!" Mapi says," Pancakes just for you and Sol."
"Can I help?"
Ingrid and Sol stay talking in Sol's room for ages and ages and you and Mapi have seconds and thirds of the pancakes and get impatient waiting to open presents.
"Ingrid?" You ask, pushing open the door as you very carefully bring in the plate full of now cold pancakes," Sol? Christmas pancakes! Sol...why are you crying?"
You clumsily place the plate on the bed, climbing up and wedging yourself between your two sisters.
Ingrid's holding Sol as your middle sister sniffles and tries to dry her eyes with her shirt.
"I'm not crying."
"Ingrid says lying is bad. You shouldn't lie, Sol. It makes kittens cry."
That shocks a laugh out of Sol and you feel a bit of pride at that.
"You told her that lying makes kittens cry?" Sol asks Ingrid, who's also laughing a little.
"No," You say," Mapi told me that but Ingrid said lying is bad! Why are you crying, Sol? Do you miss Mama and Papa? I do too sometimes but it's okay! We're seeing them tomorrow!"
Sol's throat bobs. "Well...actually...Nena, I was thinking...Never mind."
You frown, looking between your two sisters.
"Never mind what?"
"I..."
"Sol's going to be staying here for Christmas," Ingrid says," She's going to stay here with Mapi and Bagheera and Scout."
You freeze, all the joy and excitement from Spanish Christmas melts out of you. You glance between your two sisters, similar features to your own staring back at you.
"What?"
Ingrid pulls you onto her lap, holding you nice and tight. "Sol doesn't want to come back to Norway for Christmas. She's going to stay here at home."
"But...Why? It's Christmas!"
"Nena..." Sol reaches for you and you flinch away.
"No! No! Bad Sol! Naughty Sol! You have to come see Mama and Papa for Christmas! They miss us!"
"Nena...They don't."
"They do! They're our parents! They love us!"
"Nena..."
"They do! They do! They do! Stop lying Sol!"
"Nena, please..."
"No! No! Sol, you're so naughty! Why are you so naughty?! You're why Mama and Papa sent us away! I hate you! I hate you!"
Sol's face splits with an emotion you can't name and her brow furrows.
"Nena!" Ingrid snaps, standing up with you in her arms," Apologise!"
"No!" You howl, kicking your legs out and trying to wiggle out," Ingrid, no! Sol's being naughty! Mama and Papa love us! They do! They do! They want us to come home for Christmas!"
"Nena-"
"No!"
Spanish Christmas is not as fun as you thought it would be.
Sol doesn't come out of her room. You get put in timeout. Ingrid is angry even though she says she isn't.
You don't say goodbye to Sol the next day when you go to the airport. You don't say anything to Ingrid on the plane.
You don't say anything until you get home.
Ingrid unlocks the door and you burst in.
"Mama! Papa!" You say," We're home!"
Your special light-up shoes squeak on Mama's squeaky clean floors and the lights bounce off the darkened walls.
"Mama...? Papa...?"
You look around but no one's home.
Your bottom lip wobbles a little.
You turn. "Ingrid...Where's Mama and Papa?"
Ingrid gives you a smile that's not really a smile. "They're probably just caught up at work, Nena. They'll be home soon."
But they're not home soon.
They don't come home for ages. They don't come home until you're tucked up in bed and they're gone the next morning before you wake up.
You don't see hide or hair of your Mama and Papa until the day before Christmas Eve.
"Mama!" You cry when you see the woman at the stove.
Papa is at the kitchen table and Ingrid's sitting on one of the countertops, Hector in her arms as he excitedly licks her face despite spending the night in bed with her.
"Y/n," Mama greets you coolly, dodging your attempt to hug her and lightly pushing you away with the spatula she was using.
You try to hug her again but she pushes you again.
"Mama...?"
"The table, y/n," Mama says, a brow raised as she stares you down until you shuffle into the seat next to Papa.
He smiles at you, ruffling your hair with his rough hand before turning back to his paper.
You frown.
You thought Mama and Papa would be happier to see you after so long away. You haven't heard from them for months and months. Not even a phone call.
You'd missed them like crazy but they don't even seem to realise.
"Here," Mama says, sliding you a plate," Eat."
It's a weird yellow thing that you haven't really seen before and you reach for your fork.
Ingrid takes one look at it though and pulls it from you.
"Ingrid!" You whine," I'm hungry!"
"It's egg, Nena," She says," You can't eat that."
"It doesn't look like egg."
"Give her the egg, Ingrid," Papa says dismissively," There are different rules at home then your place in Spain."
"She can't eat it because she's allergic," Ingrid snaps back," She'll swell up and have to have her epipen and then go to hospital. She's not touching the egg. You should know this."
"It was a simple mistake," Papa says with an eye roll.
Ingrid huffs, plucking you from the kitchen table and holding you close. "We'll eat later. We're just going to go and call Mapi and Sol."
"Send Mapi our regards!" Mama calls after you but Ingrid ignores her.
"Ingrid," You say with a little frown," Why did Mama and Papa forget I'm allergic to eggs?"
Ingrid wants to be able to give you an answer. She wants to be able to tell you that it just slipped their minds, that they remember that night when Ingrid came home when you were just one and a half and had to go to hospital.
It had been a cold, snowy evening and Ingrid had fed you some egg from her plate, turning away to finish the washing up. Sol had screamed when you swelled up, face going red and throat closing up.
There had been a rush to get you to the hospital and Sol sobbed until she threw up as she and Ingrid waited outside your hospital room for updates.
Mama and Papa had been out at another work party that they really didn't need to be at.
Ingrid wants to tell you that Mama and Papa don't remember a lot about you and about Sol but you're still at that age where everything they do, you want to be apart of.
You're still at that age where you can't see them as anything but your heroes and Ingrid won't ruin that for you.
She can't ruin that for you.
She's seen how it's affected Sol. She's seen how broken her little sister is, withdrawn and reserved and nervous most of the time.
She doesn't want you to go through what Sol has gone through.
She doesn't want to ruin the image you have of your parents.
So she avoids the question.
"I bet Sol is excited to see you," Ingrid says, squeezing you nice and tight just like you like.
It's incredible to see the similarities between you and your other sister. It's striking really.
There's such an age gap between herself and Sol and then another age gap between you and Sol and yet you've all ended up very similar.
You all love tight hugs, squeezed so nice and tight like it lifts a weight off each of your chests.
"Really?" You ask, eyes bright," I miss Sol! I'm sorry I was mean to her at Spanish Christmas! I didn't mean it!"
"I know, Nena. Why don't you tell Sol that too?"
The phone rings for barely a moment before Mapi's face fills the screen.
"My Engens!" She cheers," I've missed you!"
"Missed you, Mapi!" You say," But want to see Sol too! I missed her!"
Ingrid doesn't want to see you go the way of Sol. She doesn't want to see you crushed through your parents' disregard of you.
But Ingrid can see it happen in real time.
She hadn't had that with Sol.
She gets to see it with you, her tiniest little sister who liked playing football and wearing your light up shoes and chasing the cat with Hector and calling Mapi and Sol every night before bed so Sol can read you your bedtime story.
So, with you fast asleep in your car seat in the middle of the night, Ingrid strides out of her childhood home.
She doesn't speak to her parents. She doesn't even think they'll find the note she's left for them until tomorrow evening when they come home from another Christmas party that they absolutely shouldn't be going to when they had a young, excited child at home.
It's Christmas Eve and flights are full but Ingrid manages to pull a few strings.
"Ingrid?" You ask, groggy and still half asleep in your car seat as Ingrid drives the rental car back to the airport," We goin' back to see Mapi and our Sol for Christmas?"
"We are. Is that okay?"
You make a content little humming sound, a big yawn overtaking your whole face. "Hmm. Good. I miss Mapi and our Sol."
It's not cold like in Norway, something that Sol had known for a while but still, it's weird to have no snow outside of her window on Christmas morning.
Sol sighs, pulling a pillow over her face and curling up into a little ball.
Scout snores in the crook of her knees but even he can't bring her comfort right now.
The door creaks open and Sol groans.
"I don't want to get up now, Mapi," She says.
"Not even for us?"
"Ingrid?"
Her sister stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a grin. She's still bundled up for the Norway weather despite being so clearly in Barcelona right now.
"What are you...?" A bolt of panic has Sol sitting up. "Where's Nena? Did you leave her with them?!"
"Sol!" You cheer, coming running into your sister's bed still in your pyjamas," I missed you!"
You jump onto her, tucking yourself under Sol's chin.
"Mama and Papa weren't very nice," You say to her," So me and Ingrid came home to you and Mapi. We brought presents!"
Sol has to bite on her cheek to stop the tears. "You brought presents."
"Of course we did, Sol! It's Christmas!"
"Mapi's making pancakes," Ingrid says and you interrupt her very quickly.
"But you have to help! Mama and Papa don't make breakfast like you! And Mapi doesn't make your special pancakes! Please, Sol! Please! Please! Please!"
Sol laughs, easily picking you up onto her hip. "Special pancakes with chocolate chips."
"And whipped cream!"
"And sprinkles," Ingrid puts in, pulling Sol into her for a big group hug between both of her sisters.
"And special chocolate milk?" Mapi asks, poking her head through the open doorway," Because I've got some mugs of nice, warm chocolate milk that Bagheera will drink if we don't hurry!"
"My milk!" You exclaim," Sol, Ingrid! Come on! Come on!"
Ingrid laughs. "Alright, Nena. Let's go start Christmas."
#woso x reader#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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Welcoming Another Verstappen [Mini Verstappen Series]
Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)
Photo Credit: Pinterest/Tumblr
Format: Social Media
Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist
ynverstappen
Liked by maxverstappen1, sophiekumpen, and 428,916 others
ynverstappen Our secret got spilled a little early but I can't wait to meet you in July.
landonorris Championships = Number of children????
ynverstappen I can't confirm or deny that.
fan94 When Mama Verstappen is pregnant again!
fan23 How does she look so fucking radiant? Like, you just had a child less than 2 years ago.
fan37 Wait, didn’t Max just let this slip on the Team Redline stream this afternoon?
fan86 So, lukecraneoffical just unintentionally spilled the beans of Y/N's pregnancy without any knowledge.
fan69 Yeah fan86. Wish I heard what Y/N said when Max had his mic turned off.
May 25, 2027
maxverstappen1
Liked by sophiekumpen, martingarrix, and 698,563 others
maxverstappen1 Welcome to the world Nikolaas Martijn Verstappen. You surprised us by crossing the finished line early. Clocking in a time of 38 weeks.
landonorris I called dibs on the next kid being names after me. What happened?
maxverstappen1 Talk to my wife. She makes the rules.
martingarrix I'm honored that this little boy is named after me. maxverstappen1 liked this
christianhorner Congratulations Max and Y/N on the birth of another healthy baby boy. Wishing you all the best from myself and Geri.
fan39 Love that Y/N is in charge of naming all of the kids.
fan76 Just did a little math, 38 weeks... looks like we have ourselves a WDC baby!
July 9, 2027
ynverstappen
Liked by oscarpiastri and 452,234 others
ynverstappen Happy Birthday to my oldest child. My first little boy. The kid who woke me up one day just to sit in Max's car and ask me, Mama when can I go get my super license like Papa? You bring joy to my life every day, I never knew what unconditional love was until the day that I met you.
landonorris If he wants his super license, he needs to learn from a real professional.
dannyric3fan Umm... Max is a real professional mate. Those WDCs weren't accidents. mstappenfan dannyric3fan Pretty sure that Lando is joking, no reason to turn this serious man.
charles_leclerc Super license? He's only 7!
mstappenfan85 Max started driving in Formula 1 when he was 17, so it's not that far away. Just another 11 years by FIA rules.
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fan68 I know most people are over the whole Y/N isn't Nico's birth mom discussion. But it really tells you a lot about her that after she's had two kids with Max, she doesn't treat Nico differently than Nikita or Nikolaas. She loves all of them the same.
October 17, 2027
ynverstappen
Liked by victoriaverstappen, sophiekumpen and 284,679 others
ynverstappen Happy Holidays from Belgium!
victoriaverstappen The boys look so cute in their matching pajamas.
ynverstappen Niki says thank you auntie for his Christmas gifts! victoriaverstappen 😂😂
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fan87 How is it that all of Max's kids look exactly like him?
fan45 Verstappen clones! One wasn't enough when Nico came into Max's life, Y/N birthed two more!
fan98 Love the little peek into the Verstappen clan! Especially since Y/N hasn’t been coming to races recently.
December 28, 2027
Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127 , @mysticalnightenthusiast , @green-thots , @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp , @ellelabelle , @lilypat , @dreamercrowd
#mini verstappen series#f1 instagram au#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen imagines#mv33 x you#mv33 x reader#mv1 x reader#mv1 x you#mv1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one imagine#f1 smau#f1 social media au
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Family's Growing
Kylian Mbappe x Fem!Reader
Warnings: kylian has baby fever, dirty thoughts, baby talk, breeding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding/pregnancy kink goes burrrr, daddy used in a sexual context, begging, creampies, finger fucking and sucking lol, cum play.
Word Count: 1,615
Author's Note: okay I'm finally back on track with these - yes I know Tuesday is over but please look past that lol.
merry smutmas series
--
Kylian finds himself swooning over how good you are with his niece and nephew, the thought of having a family with you spins around his head.
Christmas was a time for family and that seemed to be the only thing on your boyfriend's mind.
The two of you had gone over to his parents' place for Christmas dinner, all of his cousins were there as well as their kids. Kylian was not the favourite uncle for no reason, all of them knew they were getting good gifts in bountiful amounts too.
The tree in the living room that was once full with presents were now opened, the floor covered in wrapping paper. It was only two kids, his cousin's son and daughter, and Ethan if you counted him as well; and yet, it seemed like Kylian had bought the entirety of Paris for them.
Kylian watches as you lay on the floor with his niece and nephew, the three of you putting together a tower made of legos, whispering and giggling as you built the tower.
He smiles to himself as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. A part of him isn't sure what he did to be so lucky, to have a career as great as his and to have a girlfriend who's so loving and kind and supportive. You loved his family like your own, right now was a prime example.
Seeing you with kids always did something for him, you had a maternal nature about you, anyone who met you could see that.
The thought crossed his mind many times, how nice it would be to start a family with you. You two had spoken about it ages ago, when you began dating. You both decided that you'd revisit the idea when you were more stable in life and that you were now. Both you and Kylian were stable in careers, you two lived together, you had been together for a while and you had the means to raise a child.
He couldn't see where it would be a no.
As much as he wanted a kid with you, the idea of making a kid was much more appealing.
Clothes on the floor, hands all over each other, watching as you begged him to cu- "You okay?" Ethan asks his older brother, breaking his thought.
Kylian clears his throat. "Yeah," he nods, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder at him.
"They love her," Ethan nods towards you with the kids, "y/n's always been good with them."
"She was good with you too," Kylian teased his brother. You two had begun dating just before his World Cup win, the two of you barely 18 years old and Ethan was 12 - still a child in his brother's eyes and he always will be.
Ethan rolls his eyes at his brother's comment.
After some time, the kids started to get tired which was their parents' signal to head out. You and Kylian left not too shortly after that as well.
Your boyfriend finds you in the kitchen after he changes for bed, his arms wrapped around you from behind whilst your elbows propped on the counter as you waited for the kettle to boil.
"Something on your mind, baby?" You asked him, twirling the string attached to your tea bag.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
Kylian hums. "Kids."
His answer catches you off guard, you turn to face the man with a confused look on your face. "Kids?"
He shrugs, smiling. "Seeing you with the little ones today, I don't know - it got me thinking. It'd be nice to have our own, don't you think?" His hand rests on your hip, thumb disappearing under the hem of your shirt.
A glance at your boyfriend's hand, your eyebrows raised. "Do you really mean having kids or making kids?"
You can't help the laugh, kissing your boyfriend. The man wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. Kylian picks you up, holding you tightly as he kisses you and carries you over to the couch.
Kylian puts you down, sitting on the couch for a moment as he looks at you. You take that as your sign to undress.
The silk shorts sliding down your smooth legs, pooling by your ankles before you step out of them, you pull off the tank top and that leaves you in the blue set he loves. You reach behind to unhook your bra but Kylian stops you, “leave it on.”
He pulls you by your waist back to him, his hand slipping down to rest on your ass before giving it a smack. You’re quiet, looking down at your boyfriend on the couch.
He puts you to lay on the couch, he’s sat between your legs with one on either side of him. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Kylian drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy.
“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the blue lace.
You smile, “I know.”
He pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy. He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.
Kylian's fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling.
“Keeks, please.” your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach.
You try to wiggle your hands away from him, trying to grab on something. “Behave.” He tells you, adding another finger.
Your face twists, pleasure all across it and our hands stop wiggling, he smiles, satisfied.
Kylian can feel it; he knows you’re close, you’re squeezing on his fingers, your thighs trying to close, trying to squirm away from the pleasure.
He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the blue lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt.
Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him.
Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.
Kylian knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more, he gives in.
"Please," you whimpered.
"What, mon ange ? Tell me."
You look at the man between your legs. "Fuck me."
There was no hidden meaning behind it; no scolding, no need to hurry him up - you wanted him and that was it.
“Gonna let me fill you up princess? Hm?” He asks, shifting to line himself up with your cunt. You nodded eagerly, your leg hitching on his hip.
At this point, you can’t do much except lay there and take it; not that you don’t want to because you do, you really do.
The tip of his cock brushing over your clit before moving to push into you. Your back arches, hips jutting forward to meet his.
Hard and rough, not enough to hurt you but enough to tell you that he's in charge.
Kylian wanted to hear you.
His hand now on your chin. “C’mon amour, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He says, the angle you were at puts him deeper than before.
The slightest movements and you can feel it in your stomach. It’s like he can hear your thoughts because his hand moves from your chin to your stomach. His big hand spread over your stomach, “you’d look so pretty with a baby in you, hm?”
Kylian lets you fall back onto the couch, both of his hands on your hips. “Maybe I should fuck one into you.”
His name falls from your lips like a prayer, he could listen to you say it over and over again. You were close enough that you could taste it.
“So good for me, you take it so well.” He whispers to you, kissing under your ear.
“Uh huh,” you breathe, leaning back against him, your legs felt like jello under you. Your head drops back onto the couch, begging him to let you cum.
He lets you drop back, back arched for him once again. He feels you cum around him, the wetness covering his cock. It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Kylian cums too.
The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy.
He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.
“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Kylian pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends.
You lay there for a while, Kylian on top of you, your leg tossed on his hip as his head rests on your sternum. Your fingers drag over his shoulders, the man humming quietly.
"We should do that again," he whispers.
You laughed, "keep it up and we'll end up with a baby by next Christmas."
Kylian nods, kissing you. "Let's try again then."
--
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Reader Lore - Born to Break Records
So this is a little filler for between now and the next chapter. This chapter might have triggers for death, abusive parents, and brief mentions of bullying. If these make you uncomfortable, then please feel free to skip this chapter. The synopsis is the reader’s life up until her first race win in F2.
Welcome to Reader-Lore
2003
The cry of a baby filled the sterile walls of the delivery room. Pants filled in the quiet moments, but were mostly covered. The wailing baby was placed into the arms of the waiting mother, the father looking down on the two.
“It’s a girl,” the nurse told them, writing something down in a book.
The atmosphere suddenly changed. The once hopeful air was dampened with disappointment. The father sighed loudly, turning his head to look out the window. The mother, who had held her baby tight, loosened her grip. Her nose was now scrunched in borderline disgust.
The nurse, feeling the off energy, offered to take the baby girl. She made some excuse about needing to weigh her and make sure that she was healthy, things that could have waited until after the parents bonded.
The mother was quick to hand her over, waiving her hand as though it wasn’t a big deal. The father had now moved farther away from the hospital bed.
The baby had started to wail once more after being taken from the arms of her mother. Arms that she thought were safe. Arms connected to the body that had cared for her for 9 months. Arms that suddenly did not hold her tight. Arms that willingly gave her away to some stranger.
Once the nurse and frightened infant left the from, the mother and father looked at each other.
“I wanted a boy,” the male murmured.
The female rolled her eyes, “I know. And so did I. But we don’t have a choice anymore.”
“We do. Could always leave her here. A boy would be able to break records. A girl is useless.”
“And be arrested? No thank you.” The mother rolled on her side, arms around her front. The father just huffed.
“Everything we talked about, our future, is now a wasted memory.”
The mother looked at the door with a sliver of hope, although, it was too small for anyone to see it. “Maybe she can do everything that you wanted a boy to do.”
“We can just have another baby,” the father persisted.
“You heard the doctor. It would be too dangerous for me to have another. What’s done is done. You can walk out now if you can’t commit.” The woman went to say something else, but was interrupted by whimpers.
The nurse had walked back in, now with a swaddled baby. Begrudgingly, the mother held her hands out to take the bundle of blankets. She looked down at the brand new baby, but her heart didn’t swell with pride like she read about. Her heart filled with distain, as if the baby were a Christmas present that she didn't want. But this time, she couldn’t return the baby like she’d return a gift at whatever store it was bought from.
The father had taken a few steps closer to the bed, but kept his distance. There wasn’t a bone in his body that actually wanted the child.
“We still need a name for her,” the nurse stated, clicking her pen.
The mother glanced to the father before saying, “Y/n. Her name is Y/n.”
2008 – Five years old
The air was stuffy, filled with the scent of petrol and burnt rubber. The quiet that could have been was broken by the rattles of engines and throttles. You wished for silence.
You wanted nothing to do with this. But, you’d rather get in a kart then flinch at your father’s hand. You had been allowed to wander around the track. The big boys were driving now. And by big boys, you meant 11- and 10-year-olds. They were bigger than you and drove karts that were so much faster than the little one that you had.
You looked around. There was definitely not a shortage of girls hanging around, but none were dressed like you. Most were the older or younger sisters of the drivers. Their pink tops, paired with shorts or skirts, flowed in the wind. None of them were wearing an old itchy race suit that was two sized too big. They were allowed to wear sandals, while you had to endure the tight racing shoes that your dad had definitely yanked on the laces too much. It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t learn to tie them yet.
You watched their hair bounce in the tall pony tails tied on the tops of their heads. They didn’t need their hair to be wrapped in a bun at the base of their necks so that it could fit into a helmet.
You wished that your mom and dad would allow you to cut it off so that you could be the boy that they wanted. You knew that they didn’t want you, your little mind was able to catch on to things like that.
You understood patterns. Patterns on the track helped you know what areas to avoid. Patters on the kart taught you where to put your feet and hands. Patterns told you that moms and dads should be happy for their children, and not yell at them. Patters revealed that children did not flinch when their parents patted their heads or caressed their cheeks.
The wind blew loud as the kart race came to a close. You knew that you needed to get back quickly to where you parents were waiting, but you wanted to see the winners, wanted to see them taste a victory that you were so desperate for.
You squeezed past the other boys and looked up at the three on the podium. The one on the lowest step wasn’t rememberable. His hair looked the same as others. His height wasn’t tall or small, just in the middle.
But the boys on the other two steps were. The one on the second pedestal had a shaggy hair cut, with bangs that pointed down. You had seen him before, surrounded by his family. A little brother, a big brother, mom and dad, and then a man who looked at the boy with stars in his eyes.
You wished someone looked at you like that.
“And in second place, Charles Leclerc.” So that was his name. Sharl. His eyes were bright green and filled with light and hope. But a sadness still glazed them as he looked up at the boy on the top step.
The boy who towered over the crowd had blond sandy hair. For a winner, he didn’t look happy. His blue eyes didn’t hold the same brightness that the green eyes had.
“And our winner, Max Verstappen!”
That was a nice name. Max. You wanted to look at the boy winner for a few more moments. Engrave his image into your mind. Because, you didn’t know when the next time you’d be able to do this. Your dad would probably ban you from such things, saying something like you didn’t need to look at something you’d never achieve.
But you were hungry.
You were taken out of your watching by the announcement that your own race was going to start soon. And you weren’t in your kart.
You rushed through the crowd, trying to put on your bright pink helmet on. You could put your gloves on while you got into your kart.
By the time you got there, your dad was already looking at you with a disappointed look. Your mother was nowhere to be found.
“Where have you been,” he hissed, hitting your helmet.
“I wanted to see the podiums,” you muttered, getting your gloves on.
Your dad shook his head. “What have I told you about that?”
“That I shouldn’t look at things that I can’t get.”
“Exactly. Now get in your kart.”
You did as he said. You heart was pounding as you taxied the little thing onto the smaller track. You were able to be seen by everyone, your helmet acting as a little flag. It seemed to say “look at me! I’m the only girl trying to be on par with all these boys! Watch me fail!”
But you were determined to prove them all wrong.
By the last lap, you were right behind one more kart. One more pass and you could win. Prove your dad wrong. Prove everyone wrong.
You watched as he broke your pattern. The pattern that would help you win.
He made a mistake, and you welcomed it with glee.
You passed over the finish line with a significant gap behind you and that boy. At the stopping point, you parked your kart and stepped out, exhaling sharply.
You thought that people would cheer and shout, but the silence that you had wished for earlier had come to haunt you.
You won and there was nothing to celebrate.
2015 – Twelve years old
Everyone thought he was crazy. There was no way that he was going to sponsor a 12 year old in karting, a female none the less.
He wasn’t crazy. How could he not want to sponsor you, a consecutive race winner in your league. He constantly watched you drive circles around the boys who would berate you in their free time. He watched as you would let their words roll right off your back. You didn’t let their words get to you.
But, he was your godfather and he had a sense of responsibility for you. He watched as you climbed out of the kart, looking around trying to find a familiar face.
He could see your eyebrows raise through the visor when you caught sight of him.
“LoLo!” you yelled, quickly sprinting over to him. He was ready to catch you, but not expecting the hit with your helmet.
He let out an oof as you knocked him slightly off balance.
“Hey kid! You did good!” He rubbed your helmet as if it were hair. You quickly unbuckled the pink contraption and took it off, hair sticking to your forehead.
You looked around before your shoulders slumped. You kicked a rock as you spoke, “They didn’t come.”
Lorenzo had noticed a lack of your parents as soon as he arrived. He would have come earlier to help you with your kart if he had known that they weren’t here. He looked down at you with sad eyes, and that’s the last thing you wanted.
You always wished for someone to look at you with so much love and affection that it poured out of their soul. But you only ever got looks of hatred and pity.
He rubbed your shoulder, “It’s ok kid. But you wanna know something?” He crouched down to your level, pant legs getting damp with moisture. You nodded your head. “LoLo gets to sponsor you!”
You gasped, eyes tearing. Even though you were twelve, you knew the weight of the situation. Your parents had told you that because you were winning, you were embarrassing them. And because you were embarrassing them, they wouldn’t pay any more years of karting after this one. You wailed when you told Lorenzo the next time you saw him. And he saw your heart break into itty bitty pieces while you did.
When you left, he looked into every possibly way that he could keep you in karting. The only option was to sponsor you.
And sponsor you he did. He emailed, texted, and called multiple companies, trying to get their support. He would get sponsorship to put on your kart so that you could carry the logos proudly. He had your new one sitting in the back of his old truck, but that was a surprise. It was blue with two proud bulls on the very front. He had done it. He found you a sponsor that would keep you going for a couple of years.
His thoughts were interrupted by you actually knocking him over. He knew his sweater was getting damp, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to see you smile for the rest of his life.
You were too busy whispering thank you after thank you for you to notice the weird looks that you were getting. Looks from the boys that you had just beaten. Looks from the parents who didn’t know the worries of paying for karting.
He quickly picked you up and took you back over to get your cart. He helped you load it on the mover and rolled it over to his truck. You wouldn’t be needing this kart that was almost falling apart. You had a new one, and you’d be all right.
You talked the whole way home, animatedly moving your hands around as you described your latest win. Your hands rolled over the other as you showed him how you turned the wheel, barely clipping the front of the kart who wanted to push you off.
Lorenzo only looked at you with pure adoration. A look that you wanted so much, but were too busy to see due to your explanations of your imaginations.
Maybe he was crazy, but he didn’t think so.
2019 – Sixteen years old (F3)
Your eyes were pricked with tears as you read the letter you received in the mail. The big letters of DISOWNMENT flashed in the reflections. They had done it weeks ago, according to the date on the top of the paper. By now, your things were probably thrown away or burned.
You had just finished the F4 category and were making a name for yourself in F3. You couldn’t deal with this now. One of the management people came and knocked on your door, telling you that the race was about to start.
You crumpled the paper up and threw it in the trash. If they didn’t need you, you didn’t need them. That was the lie you continually told yourself. Of course a girl needed her parents. They were the people who were supposed to nurture you and help you.
But they never did that in the first place. At least you didn’t have to constantly buy drug store foundation and concealer and try to explain the black and blue around your eyes after it melted off during the race. No more flinching. No more hiding.
Just no more.
You would call Lorenzo and see if you could stay with him for a bit during the break. You would have to or you wouldn’t have a place to sleep.
Your breath shuddered at the thought.
You told yourself that you knew this was coming. They had cut all contact with you months ago and weren’t spotted when you went home during the last break.
You allowed the tears to fall as you got your helmet on. No one would see the streams as you placed your visor down. You were now hidden away from the weird looks that everyone sent you. No girl had ever made it this far.
Sure as you grew, there were girls in karting. That number seemed to increase in F4. Most of them were from the driver academies. You were still able to participate due to multiple sponsorships that Lorenzo had gotten you.
But with increase, there has to be a decrease. You were currently the only female in F3 and were set to be the only female to make it to F2. Well, that’s what everyone told you. Your stats reflected your need to prove yourself.
Race win after race win helped thrust you through the blockades built by men. They wouldn’t stop you, and you didn’t want to stop. Not now, not ever.
Each race win fueled your hunger in this world. And it only grew and grew.
Your tears were brushed away by the wind brushing through your car. At that moment, you told yourself that you wouldn’t cry over your parents ever again. They didn’t deserve them.
You could cry about other things. Such as passing over the finish line, marking your first win in F3.
You constantly showed the world that you could do it. You wanted to cry again as you listened to your anthem. You wanted to cry when the boys celebrated with each other, leaving you out. You wanted to cry as you walked back to your “motor home,” knowing that it was put up quickly for you.
The time you finally let yourself cry was when you were talking with Lorenzo on the phone. Your eyes were tired and dehydrated by the time you quit. Lorenzo was able to calm you down. He told you that he would take care of everything, take care of you.
You knew you wouldn’t be able to see him much though. The F3 calendar was far busier than the F4 one had. And you knew the moment you entered F2, time for relaxation would be far and few between.
But you had Lorenzo to fall back on when the times got hard. You could always count on him.
2020 – Seventeen years old (F2)
It was too soon. Too too soon. It wasn’t fair either. Your tears had not stopped streaming down your face since you arrived. The sterile smell itched your nose, but you needed to be here. For him.
He had gotten paler in the few moments since you had been there. His breath rattled with each inhale and exhale. And each breath brought more tears. You didn’t want to let him go.
“Please LoLo. I can’t do this without you,” you whispered, knowing that he probably would not hear you. The doctors told you that he was far too gone for that, but you liked to believe that he was still listening. “You can’t leave me like everyone has. I can’t be alone. I need you.” You put your face down in the blankets, squeezing his hand.
The nurses stood in the door, with tears of their own. They were watching a child lose the only family that she had left.
You inhaled sharply, wiping your tears away.
“You know I’m going to do it. For you. It’s only ever been you. You’ve been my best friend and I don’t know how I’m going to get through this scary world without you.” You hiccupped. “But, I know that you need to go. And I’m being selfish for keeping you here.”
You stood and kissed his forehead.
“Thank you LoLo, for everything. I love you.”
His chest rose, fell, rose, and fell.
But didn’t rise again. The multiple beeps from the different machines let you know that he was gone. And he wasn’t coming back.
One of the nurses came and rubbed your back as you sobbed, not caring who heard you. Your tears did not stop.
They didn’t stop on the plane to Bahrain. They refused to dry up during the practices as you set record times. They let up as you gave post-practice interviews, saving you from being embarrassed.
You cried as you put your helmet on. Stickers had been placed on it the night before with Lorenzo’s name and dates of birth and death to commemorate his legacy that would continue through you.
You knew this race was important. You heard that multiple F1 drivers were there to watch. And you’d give them a spectacle, before hiding away to burry your dead godfather. You hoped that the blond kid with blue eyes that had grown up by now was there. He didn’t need to know that you looked up to him. You just hoped that he’d be there. And possibly the green eyed Justin Bieber look-a-like as well, you had followed him too.
You had managed to score a P5 starting on the grid and you knew it would be tough to fight for the front. But you had a feeling that you’d be just fine.
And just fine you were.
You all hauled your F2 car over that finish line, finishing with a gap of 10 seconds. Your crew was screaming in your ear through the radio and congratulations were being thrown everywhere. You pulled into the number 1 spot and climbed onto the nose. You put your finger on the big numbers on the nose of your car, kissed the finger that touched it, and raised it, pointing at the sky. You had changed your driver number to the permanent 89 this season, and for the rest of your career.
One time, Lorenzo had showed you pictures of when he used to kart. The big 89 was visible through the old photographs. He had trophies upon trophies, but was never picked up by anyone. You told him that if he had raced these days, he’d be able to skip everything and would be put into an F1 car immediately. He had just laughed and told you to do it for him.
So that’s what you were doing. After you commemoration, you scrambled down the car and jumped into the crews waiting arms. These days, you did not flinch when they hit your helmet. You knew that these were celebrations for racers and you were thankful to partake. Two boys followed you up and went before you. You didn’t remember their names, only the Australian accent and the odd American accent. But they would remember your name.
You carried your flag high as you walked onto the stage. The anthem sounded much sweeter this time around. The trophy felt a little heavier this time though. You looked up to see those blue eyes that you saw many years ago. Max said a quick congratulations before you raised it as though to almost offer it to the open sky. This time, you let the tears go. You quicky wiped them away and picked up the giant bottle of champagne. You hauled it over your shoulder and sprayed the others, absolutely drenching them.
This time, they did it to you as well.
You knew you made it.
I’ll do it for you, LoLo.
December 2024 – Twenty-one years old
Christian Horner sat in the folding chair, as he did year after year. A camera was right in front of him, with an interviewer to the side.
“Please state your name for the camera.” He rolled his eyes.
“My name is Christian Horner, and I am the Team Principal of the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team.”
“Let’s talk about your driver, Y/n L/n.”
The screen cuts to the pace of your car, passing multiple others in one clean sweep.
“She’s one of the best talents I’ve seen in a while.”
A scene of you holding a trophy, high in the sky.
“What is one thing that you admire about your driver. She has said a lot about you.” Christian smiled. Of course you had. You told him that you saw him as the dad you never had.
“Almost everything she touches, she turns it to gold.”
The scene changes to your first win. The crowds of red cheered your name. Something you didn’t think was possible. You had taken that win from their favorites and you were being praised for it. Slow-motion splashes of champagne hit you from either side as you wiped your face.
The scene returns, but Max is in Christian’s spot.
“She’s different. She’s the epitome of what a rookie should be. I’m just thankful that she’s my teammate and not working against me.”
The screen fades to two Red Bull cars with an Aston Martin in between them.
“Y/n, Max is currently behind the Aston. Gap to you is 1.237 seconds,” Mitch’s voice is heard off screen through the radio.
“Tell Maxie that it’s time to do the old switcharoo!”
Your car suddenly slowed down just enough on the turn, and the crowd cheered as Max’s car went wide, putting him before you. You quickly got in his slip stream and the two of you sped off, leaving the green car in the dust.
Another driver, with green eyes, is now in the seat, answering the same question.
Charles looked up in thought while blowing some air out his lips. “She’s fearless. You normally don’t see that anywhere. Sure, everyone gets scared if they have an impact, especially as big as the one she had, but not her.”
The camera cuts to the violent scene of your first DNF. Your car flipped, you were trapped. People’s faces were adorned with tears including Christian, no one had been able to contact you. Yet, the focus is now on you, wiggling out from beneath the wreckage. You, in spite of it all, raised your fist as though you were celebrating a first win.
The scene cuts to an Australian with a straight smile. He looks semi-uncomfortable in the seat.
“It looked like you and L/n had a tussle in the beginning. Is that true?”
Oscar shook his head. “There was never a tussle. We both made mistakes, but that’s racing. Wheels touch all the time: it doesn’t mean that we have the urge to take each other out.”
The interviewer continued, “But she did take you out.”
The screen fades to a clip of two cars dangerously close together, one orange and one navy.
David Croft’s voice could be heard, “And there goes the Red Bull of Y/n L/n and the McLaren of Oscar Piastri! They are close together around that corner and they aren’t backing down. Are they going to make contact! And they do! Off the track they go, debris is everywhere. And I don’t think they are going to be able to continue.”
You knew that you should not have “never backed down never what-ed.” But Oscar was going for it and so were you. And you felt terrible. You quickly used the halo to climb out. Looking over, Oscar was doing the same thing.
The camera followed you as you made your way through the swarming stewards. You just knew that you needed to check on the Aussie.
The crowds could hear David speak again, “Oh no. Looks like L/n is mad. Does Red Bull have a thing for drivers with anger issues?”
Oscar looked up and saw you storming towards him, batting away the stewards hands. He stiffened, ready for anything. But what he didn’t expect was a giant hug. He could feel you shaking and he quickly put his hands around you.
“I’m ok.”
The screen flashes back to Oscar.
He huffed, “She did. But the moment she got out of the car, she came to check on me. She batted away the stewards who were desperate to make sure that she was fine, since she took the brunt of the hit. If that doesn’t convince you that Y/n is a great friend and better driver, then I don’t know what will.” The Aussie looked livid.
The scene cuts to now a new face, your manager.
The interviewer asks, “What is something that people might not know about Y/n.” Vito put his hand to his chin. You had already given him the permission to talk about what might be discussed.
He inhaled, “She’s strong. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.”
“Can you give us an example?”
“The kid was disowned in 2019, right before her F3 debut. And you know what she did? She put that F3 car in the P1 spot. She never showed it though. She held her head high, and was squeezing into her place, that was waiting for her, in this sport.”
A quick flash of 16 year old you, holding your first F3 trophy, was shown on screen.
Vito kept talking as the scene changed to you walking around your motor home, greeting everyone who was there. They knew what had happened, and comforted you with words and hugs. You were thankful for them.
“She also lost her godfather Lorenzo in January 2020. It was heartbreaking to hear her over the phone. Her debut in F2 was the next day. I told her that she didn’t have to, but she insisted that she needed to race, to win.”
The camera followed 17 year old you, helmet on and visor down, as you walked to your F2 car, shining with your new number.
“In less than 24 hours, she was back in the car.”
Your car sped down the straight, over the finish line.
“And she won.”
The scene shifted to 23 year old Max Verstappen handing you the big F2 trophy. Tears could be seen in your eyes as you took the cup and thanked him.
“Did you know?”
Max looked at her in bewilderment. “I didn’t. And you would have never guessed it. Y/n has her heart on her sleeve, everywhere she goes, except when she races.”
A quick cut now shows Christian back in the seat.
“The last driver I saw with that mental strength was Charles Leclerc. He previously lost his godfather, and then lost his father. A few days later he won his race. Y/n lost the only family she had in less than a year.” Christian laughed. “These rookies are built different. You’d think they were made for the earlier days of racing, with how much they put into it. But Y/n, I don’t know. Her aura commands attention.”
The scenes now shown are from multiple races.
The camera followed you as you walked through the crowded paddock, trying to get back to hospitality. You thought that it would be different, that you’d have to squeeze through to get by. But with each step you took, the people parted like water.
You flashed a smile at many fans who seemed awestruck to be in your presence.
A new driver is now in the seat.
“She’s almost like Charles, in a sense,” Lando said. “The two of them,” he looked around, “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.”
“Can you try?” Lando shot her a cheeky grin. “They are basically the F1 royalty. Any driver has a ‘celebrity image’ and people are excited to see us outside. They ask to take pictures, but they also do things against us.”
The scene cuts to multiple instances of booing and pushing drivers.
“And yet, Charles and Y/n bend them to their will almost. They listen to them. The King and Queen of Formula 1.”
A video of you, Lando, Max, and Charles speaking before the Monaco Grand Prix plays.
“Ah, Max. Did I tell you that we have to address them as your highness now?”
Max looked up from his phone and followed Lando’s finger that was pointed at Charles and you, deep in conversation.
“No? Why?” Lando walked over and showed him the edit and comments on his phone.
The caption read “Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc are F1 royalty and we need to address them as such.” The video that played started with a clip of Charles in Monaco, with the grid and Monegasque royalty behind him. He looked so majestic. It switched over to you in your home country, with a crowd around your pedestal. You hadn’t even won yet, and they looked at you as though you hung the moon. You stretched out your arms and the crowd roared.
Max looked back at the two, who were ignorantly blissed. Max looked up at Lando.
“You’re right.”
The camera is back to Charles.
His eyes were wide with eyebrows raised, “Lando really said that.” He smirked. Shuffling up to good posture he said, “I’m fine with that. Y/n has always been different, but in a good way. She knows what the people wants, but also doesn’t get caught up in all the PR. She’s herself.”
A clip of you with fans plays. Your smile was mirrored with theirs. Everyone wanted to see you, hug you, feel you. And the waves that were emanating from you only made the crowd happier.
Now, the seat is occupied by none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton.
“What do I think about Y/n?” he questions back to himself. “I know that she is one of the best rookies to ever come across in the world of Formula 1. I’ve had the opportunity to share podiums with so many drivers, but her? There’s something different.”
The scene flashes to a podium shared with you, Lewis, and Max. Lewis had been able to take the win, leaving you on the third step. You had almost had the win, but a late safety car ruined it. Lewis looked over at you, expecting a disappointed face. But all he saw was a smile that rivaled the sun.
“She never seems to be disappointed with anything. Even if she was to qualify in last place, she would still smile.” Lewis laughed. “And I think everyone loves her more than they realize.”
A small clip of you and a bulldog flashes across the screen. Roscoe was licking all over your face.
“Roscoe, stop!” But you were laughing, and the dog thought that he should continue. Lewis found the two of you in the middle of the floor in the Mercedes hospitality. A blanket was draped around your shoulders.
“And what are you doing here kid?” Lewis put his hands on his sides.
You shrugged. “Toto told me I could hang out here. Max is having one of those ‘adult meetings’ that Christian says my ears shouldn’t hear. I think they forget that I’m 21 now.”
Lewis just laughed, thinking of how Toto must have let you in and had given you a blanket as well. He just ruffled your hair and sat on the ground with you.
The scene changes one more time. You are now in the seat.
The interviewer asks, “Please state your name and your occupation.”
You smiled, “My name is Y/n L/n and I am a Formula 1 racer who drives for the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team. I also DJ,” you shot finger guns at the camera and clicked you mouth, “Thanks Lando.”
“How was your first season in Formula 1. You obviously showed the world of what you could do.”
You nodded before continuing, “The season went better than I expected. To place third in the driver’s championship as a rookie? Unheard of.” You smirked. “Until now.”
The person behind the camera continued, “You were only 10 points away from Charles Leclerc. How does that make you feel?”
You cocked your head. “It feels wonderful. Charles had a really good season.” You leaned in as though to tell a secret. “If anything, don’t tell Charles or Max I said this, but Max and I would rather lose to Charles than anyone else.”
“And why is that?”
You deadpanned. “Well Charles is Lightning McQueen incarnate and Max’s emotional support rival. Who else would we want?” People laughed in the background.
“Now that you know you could win a championship…”
You cut her off, “Oh I’ve always known I could win a championship. But I also know that I was born to break records. And right now, I’m on a path to help Max break the 7 streak.”
“Ah yes, sorry. What would you do after winning a championship.” You hadn’t seen Max slip in.
“I think I’d pull a Nico Rosenburg. Ya know? Retire while I’m ahead.”
“You would not do that!” Max said behind the camera and you looked straight at him.
“Yes I would.”
“No you wouldn’t. Because you said you were born to break records. Well Kid, if I make a record championship, you need to be the one to break it.”
Oh my gosh, I loved how this chapter turned out. And it is officially the longest chapter I have written so far – 6,077 words. Right now, I have to write the chapter for the last race of F2 and you readers have to pretend that it lands on a weekend that the F1 drivers can attend.
Also! I am pleased to announce that the first few chapters of a new series will be out shortly! It is called “Besties for the Resties” and it’s how you got close with many of the drivers. Not all of them will have their own chapter and not all the drivers are being written about. So please be aware that this will not be going over 10 chapters!
Thank you to all my readers and Happy Thanksgiving!
Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon @cmleitora @sam-is-lost
#charles leclerc x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x driver!reader#max verstappen x reader#platonic grid x reader#arthur leclerc x reader#formula 1 x you#carlos sainz x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#logan sargeant x reader#alex albon x reader#george russell x reader#lewis hamilton x reader
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Mafia!Price is NOT your fucking aesthetic. A full comprehensive list as to why.
He cooka da pizza!
He goes to church every Sunday. A massive Roman Catholic Church downtown. Ancient building with floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows depicting the life and loss of Christ. Full two hour masses that he always wears a suit to. At first it starts as some last-ditch attempt to absolve him of his guilt, but then it became habit.
And maybe it was his wife. Her parents were devout and just about keeled over when they found out their only daughter was married by a quick ceremony in the courthouse to a man they’d never met. Her mother was the worst, though it was to be expected. Likely didn’t know John had won his new bride when her husband didn’t have the funds left to pay off his debt. Fucking miracle she hadn’t yet done the math and realized his first child was born seven months later. He’d be persecuted to no end.
There was a target on his back since the wedding. Always put him in the hot seat on Sunday evening dinners while his wife was trying to wrangle their children into eating their vegetables. Drilled into him about work and life and why he always seemed too busy to prioritize “something worthwhile” in his life. Mother sets in on him like she’d been waiting for the opening all evening.
“So, John. Remind us what you do for work.” Accusatory. Glaring over her barely touched plate of roast at him.
“Contracting. Bit of this and that.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes, if only barely.
“Hm. And what does that entail? Can’t keep you as busy as you swear you are.” She’s unabashed. Her husband doesn’t share the sentiment. He sighs into his glass of brandy and tries to catch her eye.
“Don’t do much hands-on these days. Project management and bookkeeping for me now. Brought on a few guys to do the grunt. You remember from when we did your bathroom, I’m sure.” He doesn’t shy away from the challenge. Principled.
“Boys would do well to have some structure. Bet they haven’t been in a church since they were baptized.” She ignores his parry and switches to what she really wants to talk about after looking over to her daughter who is all but force-feeding them florets of broccoli. Typical.
He finally wore down after a Christmas where the only gift he got from them was a deep brown leather-wrapped bible. Used. Split down the spine, dog-eared pages. Like they’d stolen it from the shelf in the pew for the dolts who weren’t well-mannered enough to bring their own.
From then, it had become a welcome escape from reality. Church in the morning. 8am service, because he was up before the sun anyway. Sipping coffee in the kitchen beforehand, pouring over a heavy binder with the title ‘family finance’ scrawled in his wife’s delicate handwriting across the front.
He could hear her wrestling with their two boys in the bathroom upstairs. Their indignant screeching clueing him in that he should probably get up and help, but he always tried to steal a few more moments to himself. Calm before the storm.
The boys have sour looks on their faces when they stomp down the stairs not five minutes later, though they’re nothing in comparison to their mother who’s only a few steps behind. They get the deep furrow in their brows from him, the bitter curl of their lips from her.
“Glad you’re enjoying your slow start, John. Really.”
He should feel worse for not helping. Tries to lay her hackles back down by snapping the binder shut and pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. She barely pauses to accept it before pushing past to pack her purse. Four bibles, his ratty one, her perfectly white one with different colored sticky notes poking out the sides, and two smaller children's bibles that she’d shove in their laps for appearance sake. Snacks for the boys, and a flash of the handle of her small handgun- safetied and then shoved into the bottom of her tote.
“Should’ve shouted f’you needed help. Can’t hear a thing down here.” The boys snicker when he winks over at them. They’re outfitted in their Sunday best. Slacks with damp finger marks on the thighs from where she’d tried to smooth out wrinkles. Buttoned-down shirts that they were already tugging at the collars of. Hair gelled back, no doubt the reason for their griping earlier.
She doesn’t find it nearly as funny as they do. Shoots him a nasty look over her shoulder before disappearing into the spare room to grab a pair of low heels.
“We’re already late. If we have to sit in the back again, you’ll never hear the end of it.” It’s not an empty threat. They’d missed one service and some aunt had told her mother in passing. Took three months to get her to stop bringing it up.
“S’not even half seven. Takes fifteen minutes to get there.”
It’s supposed to mollify her, but it has the adverse effect. She looks ready to throw a shoe at him when she sits on the bottom stair to tug them on. He raises his hands in surrender.
“Easy.”
Somehow all four of them make it to the car in one piece. He sends a message to Kyle before they leave telling him to save them a space toward the front to err on the side of caution.
#I'm mafia-baiting sorry#This was really just to get me back into posting my writing lol#moongreenlight#moongreenlightwrites#sephspeaks#cod mw2#call of duty#cod x reader#141 headcanons#drabble#price cod#captain john price#john price#captain price#price x reader#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#mafia au
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"Longer Than A Fortnight"
| SVU & Headcanons
Synopsis — Their love languages towards you, and the kind they want to receive.
Note — Olivia Benson, Elliot Stabler, Alexandra Cabot, Casey Novak
(Female centered, but no pronouns used.)
———————————————————————
!!
Olivia Benson
• — Olivia Benson is 100% acts of service.
• — She is the kind of lover that will tie your shoelaces, even if she’s running late.
• — WILL AND I MEAN WILL, do the simplest tasks for you just because she can!
• — "What you do mean you went out to get groceries? Without me?"
• — Her way of saying "I love you." is to comb your hair after you finished showering, and she asks you to sit on her lap as she does. (biting my fists rn)
• — Though, she craves for words of affirmation.
• — She didn’t grow up in a home where she felt appreciated, nor did she ever felt the comfort of her parents.
• — But she knew she loved you when you told her the sweetest sentence ever.
• — "I love you so much that you make me get out of bed to get groceries."
• — Seconds later, you felt arms behind you. Not long enough before your shoulder dampens.
Elliot Stabler
• — This man is so quality time.
• — He knows he has a dangerous job that occupies his time, hours and hours in the precinct.
• — But any chance he gets, he will come home to you.
• — "Pack your bags, we’re going to Italy!"
• — He’s afraid of losing you, or letting you go to the plane’s bathroom because you’re comfortable in his arms.
• — Amidst the turbulence, he enjoys your physical touch.
• — From all the abuse and torment he witnessed, it’s rare for him to feel safe nowadays.
• — That’s why he isn’t afraid to admit that he loves the way you kiss his forehead, trace patterns on his gentle calloused hands, or spooning him when he gets nightmares.
• — "Italy won’t run away, let’s just stay 5 more minutes in bed."
• — More so, your vanilla scented hair was his view of a vacation.
Alexandra Cabot
• — Shoot me when I say this blonde’s love language isn’t giving gifts.
• — Being a lawyer with an amazing conviction rate also means having money, money, money!
• — She enjoys spoiling you, giving you everything you need and want just because she can. She refuses to let you reach for your wallet, at all.
• — "I bought the necklace you stared at earlier!"
• — Besides your lips, Ms. Cabot also tracks your eyes. (i would like to have you for christmas)
• — Starring at you, she never noticed how much she longed for acts of service.
• — Her parents were always away, and she was left alone. Her parents’ money were their way of saying they’re sorry they couldn’t come to her graduation.
• — She was surprised when you called in sick, even though she was the one coughing like there’s no tomorrow.
• — "What do you mean I could’ve bought myself medicine instead of your necklace?"
• — You can’t help but smile as you sat beside her laying body, wiping her warm face with a wet cloth as she explains how much your necklace reminds her of your eyes.
Casey Novak
• — This redheaded loser in a hot body cannot go on a day without physical touch.
• — She was raised as an affectionate child, expressing her love greatly as her parents did.
• — Her auburn hair is as warm as her as you lay between her arms, her face on the crook of your neck as she sleeps soundly.
• — "If only court saw how soft and adorable you are when you sleep, you wouldn’t seem so intimidating." You say, playing with her hair.
• — Smiling lovingly, she unconsciously pulls you closer.
• — Aside from her comfort, she adores your words of affirmation.
• — She was the kid who would wait in her teachers’ approval, hoping that she did good enough for their expectations.
• — Luckily for her, she didn’t have to wait anymore.
• — "You think I look soft and adorable when I sleep? I think I want to kiss you right now."
• — And she did, like the soft and adorable loser she is.
!!
#valwrites .ᐟ#law and order: svu#law and order svu#svu#headcanons#olivia benson#elliot stabler#alexandra cabot#casey novak#olivia benson x reader#elliot stabler x reader#alex cabot x reader#casey novak x reader#olivia benson x elliot stabler#alex cabot x casey novak#cabenson#benovak#calex#fluff
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first day of school!
warnings: reader is refered as mom and gojo as dad, dad!gojo, baby daughter!
"Give dad a kiss before leaving." Your husband kneels, making his 1'90 meters accessible for your toddler, who presses a kiss on his dad's cheek with a huge smile. When Satoru asked for the kiss, his eyes were full of love and pride towards the little girl, as they keep shining when he looks back at her. He kisses her temple softly, as he has been doing since she came to your life. "I love you, sunshine. I want all the details of your first day at school when you're back!" She nods quickly before running towards you, hugging your legs. You caress her hair with softness, fingers taking the locks she already took away of the bun to fix them. "You're gonna love the school, I'm sure. Make a lot of friends, yeah?" Your daughter looks at you from her small height. Kneeling softly, you kiss her cheek and she hugs you in return. "Dad and me will come to pick you up later, alright? We'll go have dinner at your favorite place with Megumi." The girl's big blue eyes shine with happiness as she nods, before the bus monitor asks all the kids to sit inside. Almost crying and hugged by your husband, you wave your hand towards your daughter, so little yet so grown, before letting her go. Satoru sighs and starts walking with you towards home. He hands you a tissue, walking at a slow pace towards your home.
"She was so little..." you murmur. He nods softly, his hand searching yours before tangling his fingers with yours. "Feels as if it was yesterday when she would show up in diapers on our bed to get cuddles from her dad." Satoru smiles luminously, as his dad ego gets boosted with your words. Your daughter loves him beyond anything, she's such a daddy girl, and he loves her as much. It's common for you to find both of them spending time together, and even when you join almost every time, there are still those tiny moments you adore finding, such as a sleepy baby on top of your husband, as he reads a book and caresses her back to keep her calm, or how he always puts her on his shoulders so she's able to see everything from his height.
"Will she be alright?" You find yourself wandering in silence what your husband just put in high voice. Will she be alright? Will she miss home as much as you miss her? Will she cry, will she feel overwhelmed by school? Will she adapt to the teachers, to her classmates? She's your very first child, and it's normal to feel that way about it. You smile at Satoru, finding his blue eyes looking worried at the floor, before facing him.
"She'll be alright. She's the strongest, after all." Your husband lets a smile brighten his face as he takes your cheeks on his hands, getting close for a kiss.
At home, you both take the time to clean, tidy up and do the chores, before it's time to wait for your daughter again. You put her drawings in order on the fridge, making room for more, and put her favorite plushies back on her bed. Her fluffy white cat feels raspy under your hands, too used over the years. You need to put her to wash urgently. Satoru got that kitty for her on one of his long trips with the Jujutsu School, one of those days when you feared your husband wouldn't come back home, although he always does, before Megumi took his place as teacher and sorcerer, taking most of the missions, what still leaves both of you on sleepless nights.
The drawings fill also her walls, draws of your family, the dogs, drawings of her, of Megumi, of Yuji and Nobara by her side. She loves them a lot, and you're happy to see how the three young pupils of your husband merge so well on your little family, making friday nights way more fun and happy. Her shelves are full of books and gifts she got from everyone, a cow figure Nanami bought for her when she was two, a fairy house Megumi helped her to build on her third Christmas, a pair of sunglasses matching with his dad. She's so loved by everyone that you feel like your heart might explode.
And him.
The man that looks at you from the corridor door with a side smile, body resting against the wooden surface as his intense blue eyes follow your movements on her room. He takes a couple steps in, touching the girl's bed with his fingertips. "The crib was here." He murmurs, smiling lovingly. "We spent so many sleepless nights by her side, we always ended sleeping cuddled on that brown couch Geto bought for us. Always alert in case she cried. And now, she asks us to read her a tale and sleeps soundly all night on her bed." He looks at you from all his height before sitting on her bed. You take a seat by his side and he kisses your forehead lovingly.
"Believe it or not, I kinda miss that. Watch our tiny baby sleep, feel as if all tiredness disappeared as soon as she called us for the first time." Satoru puts his arms around your shoulders. His grin tells you he's gonna say something.
"Well, you know, if we both liked the experience that much, we can always repeat." you laugh against his body before tangling your hand on his. He kisses it sweetly.
"Let's experience her growing up before, should we?"
He leaves another kiss on your forehead before standing up. Satoru takes your hand and the car keys, since the restaurant it's quite far from the bus stop to go walking, especially, since your daughter will probably be tired after the very first day, before leaving.
When you arrive to the stop, where more parents are waiting for the kids, Satoru holds your hand firmly, checking both sides of the street, to see if he can spot the bus, and his blue eyes shine with emotion when he sees the vehicle. Your daughter runs towards you, your arms and your husband's open for her to hug. Her smile warms your heart as your family hug makes you sigh.
"How was school, sunshine?" Satoru asks, and your daughter smiles excited.
"It was fun! There are a lot of kids in my class!" You smile when you hear her words, before standing up. Satoru cleans a tear that falls down your cheek slowly before taking your daughter's hand on his, and you do the same on the other side, walking towards the car hand by hand. Your husband sits her and puts her belt on, before sitting on the driver's seat and, with your hand between his and the gear level, he starts driving softly towards the restaurant, as your daughter's happy memories of the day fill the car on her sweet voice.
#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#gojo fluff#dad!gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#dad!satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk imagines
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You're My Safe Place
Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]
Tuna-Tober Prompt: “Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here.”
Warnings/tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, panic attack, mentions of Reader being teased for weight (and a couple other things), soft Frank
Summary: Frank and you are getting ready to attend your family's Thanksgiving dinner later, but the stress of the holiday season and the distress of seeing your horrible aunt has you nosediving right into a panic attack.
a/n: I've always wanted to write Frank comforting Reader over a panic attack so I slipped one in for this event. This is for anyone with a family member (or members) that are awful to be around now that the holidays are coming up. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
With both hands grasping the kitchen counter in a near death grip, you leaned over the countertop as you tried to stay focused on the coffee machine in front of you. You were tired, having woken up early to a string of anxious thoughts about the Thanksgiving dinner tonight with your extended family that Frank and you would be attending. But as the coffee began to brew with a soft whir, your mind continued spiraling like it had been doing since five this morning. Ever since you’d woken up in bed next to Frank, staring at his bare shoulder poking out from beneath the bed sheets, you hadn’t been able to stop the dread and anxiety about what horrible comments your aunt would subject you to at this holiday gathering. Especially with all of the stress you’d already been under with the holiday season now in full swing.
Breath coming in sharper, your hands gripped the countertop even tighter. Farther down the hall you could hear Frank moving around in the bedroom getting ready for the day, and as much as you tried to ground yourself in the familiarity of that, you felt yourself steadily slipping as your mind replayed all of the awful things your aunt had said to you in the past–about your age and lack of a husband, the fact that you were still childless, that your profession was a joke, and even making jabs about your weight. Your vision began to blur as her irritating voice rang clear in your mind, your heart pounding so heavily that you felt the resounding vibration in your throat. Your rib cage felt as if it had clamped itself around your lungs and heart like a vice, constricting them both tighter and tighter while you fought to take a single full breath.
A panic attack. You were on the verge of another panic attack. Teetering just right at the edge, waiting to topple straight into it.
But no–no, you couldn’t. Not here. Not with Frank just in the other room. He had never seen you like this before and you never wanted him to see you like this. He had enough to worry about already and you refused to be another reason for the crease between his brows. He didn’t need to know how much something so ridiculous affected you. But at the same time, you knew tonight was the first family gathering of yours he’d be attending. Which meant it would be the first time he’d meet your aunt. The first time he’d be hearing the things she’d say about you.
Desperately you began sharply inhaling air through your gritted teeth, your eyes snapping tightly shut as you tried to get control of yourself. You just needed to focus, to breathe, to think about literally anything else besides the dinner and your aunt. But the harder you tried to fight it, the more her insults kept slipping through the quickly crumbling cracks in your mind.
You were falling into it now, too far gone. The memories of past family gatherings were surfacing now; her repeated passive aggressive comments at the dinner table about your plate of food, the Christmas gifts that were meant ‘to help you attract a man’ or ‘lose a few of those unnecessary pounds,’ the constant comparisons to her golden child of a daughter, the rude questions about your salary. Your body was curling in on itself as you kept struggling to fight off the sensation that was dragging you under. You were gasping for breath, hyperventilating and too deep in to pull yourself back out. With shaking, sweat-dampened hands, you tried to readjust your hold on the countertop as if it was some lifeline that would keep you grounded in the present. But with your eyes closed, your hand missed the countertop and accidentally bumped into one of the coffee mugs sitting on it instead. You’d opened your eyes just in time to see the white ceramic mug fall to the floor and shatter, the noise louder than that of your own ragged, sharp breaths.
That’s when you lost it.
Dropping to the floor in a heap, tears streamed down your cheeks as you pulled your legs up to your body, as if they’d somehow help to keep your heart from beating straight through your chest. Your nails dug into your calves, partially in an attempt to keep your legs firmly pressed to yourself, but partly because the sting of them biting into your skin helped to counteract the growing panic inside of you.
And that’s when you’d heard Frank’s thudding, hurried footsteps as he came rushing out of the bedroom and straight into the kitchen. With vision tinged in white at the edges, you struggled to look up at Frank when he paused at the entrance of the room. You could only imagine how you looked to him right now, huddled in a ball beside the shattered coffee mug, tears pouring down your cheeks as you continued to suck in shallow, gasping breaths.
He didn’t stand there long. In four quick strides he was on the floor beside you, a stern and almost unreadable expression on his face. But even in the midst of your panic attack, you could still see the fear and worry hidden behind his dark eyes. He was terrified and confused.
“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he ordered.
His hands hovered in the air between you both, as if he wanted to offer you comfort but he wasn’t certain if he should touch you. Your tongue darted out of your dry mouth to wet your lips as you attempted to concentrate, but the lack of proper oxygen to your brain with the way you’d been breathing was causing everything to become a haze. And with the way your breaths kept coming in sharp and shallow, there was no way you could get a word out.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. “Somethin’ happen? Tell me what’s goin’ on.”
You shook your head in answer to his questions, your entire body trembling against the kitchen cabinets behind you. There was no way you could form words right now, not with the way it felt like your throat was closing up.
Almost as if a light went off in Frank’s head a second later, realization dawned on him and his entire demeanor shifted. Immediately the urgency left his voice, his tone becoming something soft and soothing as his hands finally and gently landed on your shoulders. Though the concern was still apparent in his eyes, not something he could just push away.
“Relax, honey,” he said. “You’re alright. ‘S'just a panic attack.”
You nodded, breath still coming in sharp, short gasps. This wasn’t the first one you’d had, but that didn’t alleviate the fear and embarrassment that managed to surface within you at the moment. You didn’t want Frank to see you like this.
“Need you to take some deep breaths, sweetheart,” he told you. “In and out. Can you do that for me?”
Nodding again, you felt a few more hot tears streak their way down your cheeks. As Frank’s thumbs drew comforting little circles along your shoulders, his face hovering just a foot in front of yours, you tried to inhale a deep, shaky breath.
“That’s it, honey,” he praised. “Nice and slow. Don’t fight it, just breathe through it.”
Nails digging tight into your calves, you tried to focus on Frank’s face and his soothing words. Inhaling another ragged breath in, you tried to take a full breath while fighting the protesting burning in your lungs. Frank’s eyes remained fixed on you as you inhaled the breath, but his hands released your shoulders, both of them coming down to gently pull your fingers away from where they were digging into your calves.
“Keep going, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Doin’ good.”
As you inhaled a few more sharp breaths, your tears gradually began to slow even if the trembling of your body did not lessen. The rough pads of Frank’s thumbs began soothingly stroking the back of your hands, the sensation helping to steadily draw you back to the present and out of your head.
“I’m–I’m sorry,” you gasped out.
“Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here,” Frank murmured, pulling you in towards himself. “Don’t apologize.”
Clinging to him, your hands desperately grabbed at the back of his soft sweater as you buried your face into his shoulder. Your breathing was still shallow and uneven, your heart beating a little erratically in your chest, but you felt yourself little by little coming back out of the panic attack as you continued to follow Frank’s calm instructions to breathe in and out.
It was a few minutes before you finally felt yourself really calm down. You kept your face buried in Frank’s shoulder, embarrassment coursing through you. You couldn’t believe he’d just witnessed you have a panic attack, let alone over something so stupid.
“You good?” he eventually asked after a moment.
Nodding your head against his shoulder, your fingers eased their grip on his sweater, though you didn’t release your hold of him. “Yeah,” you quietly answered.
“What was that 'bout?” he asked.
You stiffened in his arms, afraid to tell him the truth. Tonight was the first family gathering of yours he’d agreed to attend, which meant he was bound to witness some of these comments firsthand. Even if you didn’t tell him about it now, you knew he’d eventually see it happening later.
“C’mon sweetheart,” Frank gently prompted. “Can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
“It’s…it’s stupid,” you muttered into his shoulder.
“Not stupid if it’s got you this upset,” he disagreed. “Talk to me.”
Sighing, you turned and rested your cheek along his shoulder, keeping your eyes averted as embarrassment continued to flush your face. “It’s just…this Thanksgiving dinner tonight. I have this–this aunt that I cannot stand. She’s always stuck her nose into my personal business–and I mean real personal sometimes. And she makes these–” you paused, wincing, “–these horribly rude comments to me. Usually when it’s just her cornering me somewhere, but sometimes over the holiday dinners in front of everyone. And I–I just don’t want to see her.”
“Then don’t go,” he said. “We don’t have to.”
“I can’t just not go, Frank,” you replied. “I’d never see my family for holidays again if I simply just stopped going to family gatherings. And generally I enjoy seeing everybody else, it’s just–just her. And I’m…”
Your voice trailed off, your eyes focused on the shattered coffee mug still on the floor just behind Frank. Besides hearing the things she might throw at you this time, the other thing that had been bothering you recently was the fact that this time she would be making these comments in front of Frank. He’d be there to hear every jab she made about you, every comment about what a failure she thought you were or what she deemed wrong with your appearance. Right in front of him.
“You’re what?” he asked.
Swallowing hard, your eyes slowly closed before you answered him in a small voice. “I’m not looking forward to you hearing it.”
Frank’s large hands were immediately pulling your face away from his shoulder before turning it to look at him. You were met with a firm, fearsome expression, one that would’ve sent a shudder down your spine if you hadn’t known how soft he truly was beneath that gruff and intimidating exterior.
“She won’t say a goddamn thing with me there, sweetheart,” Frank told you, voice a low warning. “Promise you that.”
You smiled softly back up at him. “Frank, you can’t start a physical altercation at Thanksgiving dinner,” you pointed out.
“No,” he agreed. “But I don’t have to do that to get her to keep her mouth shut.”
An amused snort slipped out of you at his words, your mind racing through a myriad of possible situations of how Frank would keep your aunt from verbally attacking you this evening. Each scenario was just as satisfying as the next.
“Honestly, I don’t doubt that,” you replied before sighing. “And I know this…just seems like a dumb thing to get so worked up over but…her comments really get to me. Just every time I see her, she’s always twisting the knife. And then her words stick with me. Always have ever since I was little.”
Frank held you a bit tighter in his arms as he shook his head firmly. “Not alright with anyone talkin’ to you like that. Making you feel this upset,” he told you. “She’s already on my shit list and I haven’t met her.”
You couldn’t fight back the little laugh that bubbled out of you at the idea of Frank Castle putting your aunt on his ‘shit list.’ A tiny grin slipped onto his lips at the sound, a mischievous glint appearing in his dark eyes.
“I have a feeling you and her will not get along this evening,” you said.
“I’ve got that same feeling, sweetheart,” Frank replied, his grin growing. “But whatever happens, you know I’ll be right there.”
Smiling softly up at him, you nodded. “Yeah, yeah I know you will be.”
Frank pulled you back to his chest, his hands once more soothingly running along your back. When he spoke again, his voice a deep rumble, you felt a bit of the anxiety in your mind easing just a bit.
“Not gonna be alone tonight,” he murmured. “Be right there with you.”
Frank Castle One Shot Tag List: @heimtathurs @linamarr @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @leikelle @pinkratts @1988-fiend @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @pone21 @millennial-birkin @harleycao @kezibear @justanerd1 @sadest-bookshelf @loves0phelia
#frank castle x reader#frank castle angst#frank castle x you#frank castle#the punisher#Tuna-Tober 2024
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First time
Parings: Wanda x Female reader
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!!! Mommy kink, Thigh riding, Fingering, Oral, Tribbing, strap on, vibrator and blindfolding. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Kinkmas masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!! - Wanda masterlist
~ It was quiet in the compound for once which is nice. The only things that could be heard was the crackling of the fire place, the christmas playlist you put on and your lovely girlfriend making dinner. This was your first christmas with Wanda since you and her made it official and you were incredibly nervous.
You wanted to make this holiday the best for her after everything she has been through. She had told you a few months after she joined the team just how much she loved christmas and how magical it was with her family. So in turn you wanted to make this the most perfect christmas she’s ever had.
The plan was that after dinner you two would exchange the gifts you had gotten for each other. And then you planned on taking her to your room which was set up with christmas lights, candles, pillows and some other gifts for Wanda.
“Dinner is almost done malysh” Wandas soft voice echoed through the kitchen and living room and you got up to go sit at the dining room table. As you sat at the table you took a moment to admire how pretty she looked. Her fiery hair was tied into a bun, Her face was bare so you could see all her freckles, She had on one of your hoodies on along with some black sleep shorts. To you she was the epitome of beauty she was your own disney princess in your eyes.
Once dinner was done she plated the paprikash and then walked over to the table. You gratefully took the food as she handed it to you with a smile on your face.
“Thank you baby” You beamed as you started eating the food. “I swear youre the best cook to exist” Wanda smiled at your praise as a blush crept over her cheeks.
“Thank you malysh” She said still blushing as she ate her food. “Oh i also was wondering if you wanted to make cookies tonight” Wanda asked with a child like gleam in her eyes.
“Well i have a few things planned for tonight my love but we can make cookies first thing in the morning if thats okay?” You didn’t want to give to much of your plan away but you also didn’t want her to feel rejected. “I promise my plan is a lot better than cookies” You continued hoping she wouldn’t be upset.
“Okay!” She said happily. “You’re definitely better than cookies so i think i’ll make an exception…just this once” She pointed her fork at you and the both of you broke out into giggles.
After the laughter died down the two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you continued eating. Once the two of you were finished you grabbed the plates and started cleaning up since Wanda had cooked.
“Go sit by the tree my love” You said from the kitchen to which Wanda obeyed and patiently waited for you to return.
You finished cleaning up and then made the two of you hot chocolate and then sat next to her. “Okay so i have a few of your gifts down here and then the rest are upstairs” You started as you handed her the the gifts that you had gotten her. “I want you to open these before we go upstairs” Wanda nodded as she gratefully took the gifts.
She started opening the gifts with a smile on her face which quickly turned to confusion when she opened a red lace lingerie set. “What’s this?” She asked holding the piece up with an eyebrow raised.
“Well i saw that in the store when i was shopping so i got it for you” You said cheekily and then she opened the next one. Wanda then held up a pair of handcuffs with a curious look.
“And what is this for?” Wanda asked again and you slowly moved closer to her.
“That is for tonight my love” You husked in her ear before you softly bit it. Wanda shivered under you touch and she could feel wetness pool in between her thighs.
See the thing is you and Wanda had been dating for about six months now but you’ve never had sex. It wasnt that you didn’t want to but you didn’t want to rush her into anything and make her uncomfortable. But within these past couple of weeks you could tell Wanda was starting to get antsy. She had started drooping subtle hints that she wanted you in a more intimate way. So you teased her a little and decided that christmas was the perfect time to have your first time with Wanda.
“Do you mean what i think you mean?” She asked breaking you out of your thoughts. You smiled at the redhead and nodded to which she quite literally jumped on you,
“I thought tonight would be the perfect night for me to show you just how much i love you” You said as your hands came to rest on her hips. Wanda smiled and grabbed your face as she brought you in for a bruising and passionate kiss. Instinctively she started grinding her hips down on your thigh.
“Please” She begged. “I need you malysh” Wandas breath got caught in her throat when you pushed her clothed core against your thigh even more.
“How can i say no to you?” You asked with a smug smile as you swiftly picked her up and brought her to your room.
When the two of you got to your room her eyes lit up like the lights on the tree. Wanda hopped out of your arms and went to admire the set up you made for her. There were her favorite red and white lights, her favorite rose water and ivy candles from bath and body works, you placed her favorite snacks on the bed side table, her favorite blankets were scattered on the bed along with some extra soft pillows.
“You did all of this for me?” She asked with slight tears in her eyes as she looked up at you. You smiled softly as you took her face in your hands and kissed her with the same passion as before.
“Of course i did. You deserve the best babygirl” Your voice was soft as you spoke making her blush. And before she knew it you were laying her against the pillows on her back.
You took a moment to admire how beautiful she looked right now. Her fiery red hair was sprawled out on the pillows, her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and god those tiny shorts she’s wearing was making you crazy. She giggled as she watched you practically drool over her and beckoned you over with her finger.
“What other gifts do you have for me?” Wanda asked curiously as you loomed over her. You smiled as you reached over to the bedside drawer and opened it. Then you quickly pulled out a red vibrator, a black and red strap along with and black silk blindfold.
“These are the other gifts i have for you my love” You said with a smile as you settled yourself in between her thighs.
Her eyes widened with wonder and excitement as she looked at the toys you laid out for her.
“P-Please fuck me” She begged starting to feel the pulse in between her thighs become even stronger.
“Anything for you” You smiled and kissed her passionately. And while you were lost in the way your girlfriend tasted she quickly removed both of your clothes with a flick of her wrist.
You were quick to start leaving wet open mouth kisses along her neck and chest making her mewl. Wanda grew impatient and shoved your shoulders down to where she needed you the most.
“Patience darling” You warned them grabbed the blindfold. “What’s your color baby?” You asked caressing her cheek.
“Green so fucking green” She said almost pathetically and you chuckled at her eagerness.
“Good girl” You praised with a smile placing the blindfold over her eyes. You then started kissing her chest again and bringing one of her nipples in your mouth and started sucking harshly.
“Oh god” She moaned at the feeling of your warm mouth around her sensitive nub. Wanda clawed at your back as you moved to her other one giving it the same amount of attention as the other.
“So fucking pretty” You praised her again moving down to her dripping core.
You then licked a stripe from her pussy to clit making her moan out loudly. Wanda nearly combusted when you wrapped your lips around her clit and started sucking harshly on it. Her sounds were the prettiest you could’ve ever imagined.
“Oh fuck mommy” She screamed as you shoved two fingers into her and started massaging her walls. You started hitting her g-spot making her back arch off the bed and her walls involuntarily clench around your fingers.
“Please don’t stop” Her words were broken as they left her lips making you smile as you ate her out. You continued your assault on her pussy like a woman starved and she loved it.
“You taste so fucking good baby” That was what made the flood gates burst and Wanda came all over your face with a scream.
“Give me another and then i’ll make you cum with the strap.” Wanda nodded at your words. The fact that she couldn’t see what you were doing drove her insane but yet turned her on even more. In all honesty Wanda loved not being able to see what you were doing because it added to the erotica of it all.
You parted her lips with your fingers before you started to solely focus on her clit. The feeling of you sucking on her already sensitive nub again was making her second orgasm build up faster than before. You moaned as you ate the witch out which sent vibrations straight into her core. Wanda clawed at your back again leaving red marks.
She squirmed and wiggled under your touch which made you hold down her hips with your free arm. “Hold still baby” You commanded to which she nodded and tried to stay still.
Wanda could feel her orgasm come closer and you started sucking harder. “OH FUCK MOMMY!” She screamed as she squirted all over your face leaving a mess on you and the bed.
“Such a good girl” You smiled coming back up to her and giving her a sloppy kiss to which she moaned at the taste of herself.
“Color?” You asked softly making sure she was okay and taking off the blindfold which made her smile.
“Still green malysh” Wanda smiled and started kissing your neck making you hum in acknowledgement.
“You ready for the strap baby?” Wanda nodded enthusiastically at your words and you laughed.
So you quickly put on the strap and handed her the vibrator. “Use this while i fuck you” You told her as you turned it on for her.
“Yes mommy” She nodded with a big smile on her face. When she put the vibrator on her clit she immediately moaned out in pleasure.
You settled between her thighs and placed the strap against her slit before slowly inching yourself in. Wanda’s head flew back against the pillows as you bottomed out. Her walls involuntarily clenched around the strap as you gave her time to adjust.
“Move mommy please” She begged to which you immediately obliged and started moving at a slow pace at first.
You quickly picked up the pace and started fucking her a little harder. “Oh fuck” She mewled as you started going harder. Between you fucking her into tomorrow and the steady vibrations on her clit she knew she wouldn’t last long.
“You look so pretty wrapped around mommy’s cock baby” You stated as you watched her pussy swallow your strap. The sight was so pretty her walls clenched around the strap as her juices flowed out of her god you were addicted.
“I-I’m gonna cum again mommy” She whimpered as the strap hit her spot over and over again.
“Give it to me baby come on” You demanded as you started thrusting faster and harder. Wanda turned off the vibrator and tossed it on the bed before she pulled you to her needing you closer.
“O-Oh fuck!” She moaned holding onto your shoulders as her third orgasm crashed over her. The orgasm was so intense she saw white spots as she tried to calm her breathing.
You gave her a second before you slowly pulled out of her making her whine at the loss of you. But her protests her cut short after you took the strap off and threw it on the floor before you laid next to her.
“You did so good baby” You praised giving her a kiss on the forehead as you wrapped you arms around her bringing her in to your chest.
“That was amazing” She said with a smile as her emerald eyes looked up at you.
“You were amazing” Your words made her smile even bigger and she nuzzled into your chest. “I need to clean you up mama don’t fall asleep yet” Wanda shook her head in protest. “Baby come on” You tried again but the witch still shook her head.
“No” She protested and flicked her wrist again and suddenly you were both clothed again and she was clean.
“You’re ridiculous” You chuckled at her actions shaking your head a little.
“But you love me” Wanda said innocently with a smug smile.
“You’re right i do love you” You kissed her head and then pulled the blanket over the both of you.
The two of you quickly fell asleep holding onto each other and relishing in you first time. It was everything you could’ve ever wanted. She was everything you ever wanted.
~The end~
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your lips, my lips
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- clarisse la rue x daughter of eros! reader
synopsis: valentine’s day- something that everyone truly disliked. until one moment, something changed.
authors note: this is not apart of fault is false (sorry!) but i’m sick with a really bad cold today and i wanted to write something special for clarisse on valentines! so.. Happy valentine’s day, everyone!
Valentine’s day.
Something humans found to be dear to them, coupled people exchanging gifts to one another on the fourteenth of February; the holiday of love.
in camp half blood, valentine’s day was celebrated to the fullest extent of its potential— it was so dear to humans as they had a rather short life span, hence a day to express your love to someone was so precious to the weak minded people. at camp, the holiday was acknowledged by the campers to recognize the importance of being half human, and half god, as well as the lovey dovey atmosphere that followed after. The same was done with other important holidays, such as Halloween and Christmas.
Clarisse la rue did not find the holiday to be particularly pleasant- or pleasant at all, for that matter. Valentine’s day was stupid in her mind. two people smuggling each other in both emotional and physical affection? openly displaying affection? i front of people? such thoughts made the daughter of Ares want to gag.
but than there was you— daughter of Eros, your charm was an automatic reminder of your heritage, and a stark figure of your character.
clarisse felt like a child by how hard she fell for you, stealing the breath from her lungs at every glance she caught of you.
your pretty smile, your wonderful eyes, your sweet face. Clarisse la rue was pissed at herself when she finally realized exactly what her feelings meant, shoving them down like lava to a volcano.
But like all creatures of nature, it was ought to burst out somehow.
and for the young daughter of Ares, her volcano ruptured on valentine’s day- to her fury.
it was a sunny day, but it had never felt so dark to clarisse. Her footsteps shook the earth as she angrily marched through camp, shoving heart shaped balloons from her path and kicking roses she saw on the floor.
The curly haired girl had caught wind that you’d received numerous valentine gifts- chocolates, flowers, posters and even jewelry. knowing people other that clarisse had been eyeing you down for a while made the flickering flame inside her chest burn down towers with her rage.
She stormed through camp with fire following her trail, each step was quaking those around her.
She stormed to cabin 39, where the children of Eros lay.
everyone knew the children of the Greek god of carnal love’s children rivaled those of ancient Greek goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite. You were point of that accusation, the most beautiful girl Clarisse had ever laid her eyes on.
and even now she as she had a torch lighting aflame her chest, she still yearned for your touch— even as she was heading in your direction to explode in a way she wasn’t sure of.
She took a sharp turn around capin 56, for the children of eris— their dark aura usually affecting clarisse now deflected off her skin like a bow to raw metal, the children watching in discord as she stormed to the door of cabin 39.
Clarisse slammed her cinnamon skinned hand against the polished wood harshly, waiting with furrowed brows for someone to answer the door. When she saw the handle move, her back subconsciously straightened.
The wood was pulled back and you were revealed— in all your nauseating, grueling, pure beauty, smile growing wide upon the sight of the curly haired girl outside your door.
“Clarisse!” your voice was smooth like honey, sticky like maple syrup and sweet like sugar. Clarisse ignored the warmth that flushed her body at the soft call of her name you expressed in joy, stupidly gorgeous smile widening at her presence.
in honest, clarisse wanted to bathe in your touch- your voice, your gaze and your heart. She yearned for you in a way she’s never felt, her defensive and rough external force disintegrating pathetic into nothing when you traced your honey soft skin along her arm, pushing hair from her face as the only scent she cpould smell was the sweetness of your person.
Clarisse was scared of her feelings in fact, and the idea that you might like someone other than her had her at the edge of her seat. She knew that it was likely, and if she truly did want you— today would be the day to make the claim.
She huffed, squinting her eyes as you moved from the doorway to welcome her inside. she reluctantly agreed, tucking her chin upward as she took steps forward. Instantly, the smell of sweets and tea attacked her senses with not a single warning— sugar and honey the only smell she could register.
Her face scrunched, overwhelmed by the smell— you laughed, covering your smile with your fingers as you usually did, a cute habit clarisse admired.
“sorry, glykó korítsi. Cole went all out for tou Agíou Valentínou.” Clarisse tucked her face away from your view, scolding herself for faltering under the stupid greek nickname you’ve given her; “pretty girl.”
She took a moment to gather herself, huffing in an upset expression when she examined your cabin.
god, there was no place Clarisse hated more that the Eros Chilren’s Cabin.
the cabin has an intense aura that can drive other demigods insane with arousal— unless that demigod is the child of a love god or goddess once activated by a child of Eros. Clarisse was lucky enough to know you to the point you spared her the torture of the curse on your cabin, and was beyond grateful the so called ‘blessing’ can also be deactivated at will.
clarisss recalled when you first exposed her to your cabin- On the northern part of the first floor, it has a room that can bring to life any sexual and or romantic desire, as well as an exact copy of the person they desire. clarisse found it odd, disgusting even. Nasty fantasies coming to life? how alone and sad does your life have to be you have to imagine yourself with someone you love? she could laugh in their face and ridicule them until they run away crying.
In the living room, there are several shelves with books containing all kinds of unknown and known love stories recorded throughout the ages. It has a large TV in the center, and a rather nice leather couch, may the daughter of ares be so kind to say.
In the east wing lies the kitchen, and on the west wing lies the public bathrooms. There is romantic music playing softly in the background through the means of a record player. That is another reason clarisse despised your cabin; the music.
There is a chandelier hanging from the ceiling with artwork of all kinds of people procreating with one another. On the second floor lies the bedrooms of the children of Eros. Clarisse only knows that because…
Her face turned a subtle shade of pink, barely noticeable on her skin, but the warmth was all the same.
“so, why are you here?” your sticky sweet voice tore clarisse from her thoughts— thoughts she tries her best to… forget.
she cleared her throat— “I wanted to escape this holiday but obviously i came to the wrong cabin,” she lied through her teeth, gesturing to the many heart and love balloons and decorations littering your cabin.
You smile, “You definitely did. This is the last place you should come to on Valentines. Why not go to Eris cabin?” you question, obviously not catching the not-so-obvious hint clarisse thought dropped for you.
“Clearly. and those kids are lame.” she crossed her arms, scanning the area. Your cabin was something else. She felt her cheeks warm once more at the people making out along the stairs of your home, rushing upstairs to the soundproof bedrooms.
Her gaze flickered away, catching yours. Your eyes were red, same as your fathers. They were filled with so many things clarisse could only put her finger on, but all she knew is that her words always died in her throat at their gaze.
“Well, you are welcome to stay, anyway.” you hum, tucking some hair behind your ear as you shifted your weight to a different leg.
Clarisse stood standing with many various of feelings— her knees were uncharacteristically weak, tummy doing summersalts inside her belly, hands shaky as all she wanted to do was—
“come on,” you motioned her over, a strange smile on your face. Clarisse felt herself become uncharacteristically excited as you led her up the stairway to your bedroom, her steps close behind yours as you waved to your siblings in the halls as they sent you a teasing smile before retreating back into their own rooms, with someone who bore little clothes.
Clarisse would never forget the first time she sat foot in your room— a cold winter night, a heated moment— something she would never forget, even though she tried.
as you lead her down the familiar hall, music played lightly from the stairways entrance, echoing throughout the cabin. The sight of your door came to her view, your hand twisting the handle and revealing your room.
Clarisse got immediate flashbacks to the last time she was here, knees once more weakened by the remembrance.
You gently slid your hand down her arm, pulling her into your room and closing the door. Clarisse looked around nervously— your room wasn’t very decorated, only a few things representative of love here and there- most likely gifts from your father. You sat on your bed, eyes pulling clarisse in by the throat as she sat beside you.
It was an awkward silence— at least on her behalf, valentine’s day was always an opportunity to seem unhappy. but as she sat with you, the tension in the room was chewing her skin and muscles off her bones.
the bed shifted for a second, and Clarisse looked over to you— your red eyes staring daggers into hers.
They were so beautiful, a blood like red— so many emotions swarming in them— so many things to represent who you truly where— they held passion, desire, sexuality, lust, danger, action, drama, joy, stress, radiance.
Clarisse could barely hold herself back as your smile encased her in a cage, trapping her, tormenting her— The cinnamon skinned girl was about to make a daring move- but you did first.
You slammed your lips to Clarisses, bed creaking slightly from the fast, sudden movement of your action— but clarisse waisted no time kissing you back. Your lips fell into sync together, dancing in a rhythm that was so perfect you wanted to melt into her.
Her hands landed on your hips, and yours in her soft curly hair— she shoved you down, back meeting the soft pink sheets of your bed, the sound of you two devouring each other the only sound in your room other than the faint valentines music bouncing through the walls.
You pulled her hair, a soft groan leaving the girls lips as she trailed her kisses down to your neck. You hummed, completely emersrd- the feeling of her lips on you was so sweet— you wanted to faint.
But you quickly realized that it wasn’t nearly as cute as you thought, as a sharp pain ate at your skin where she was feeling on your neck. You gasp, the warm feeling of blood barely falling from your neck. She’d bit you.
“clarisse-“ she silenced you with her own lips, the taste of your blood swarming between your mouth and hers, and you melted into the kiss once more.
the kiss was harsh, filled with desperation from both parties, hands touching every possible part of each others body as you lay on your bed.
You weren’t sure, but you guessed this was her way of asking you to be her valentine.
and being the daughter of Eros, there was no better way to ask.
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SECRET GIFT | ˚⋆୨୧˚
Paring: Jungwon x male!reader
Cw: mentioned of dick, masturbate, whimpers, cum in mouth.
Genre: Small nsfw.
Summary: When he surprised you with an unexpected gift.
Read at your own risk.
None- proof read ><
Lack of perfect words.
Your love story with Jungwon began like a gentle whisper. You were the kind of person who preferred to secretly admire from afar, too shy to express your feelings. That all changed when he stumbled upon your life, quite literally. On his first day on campus, he tripped over his own feet and twisted his ankle. As fate would have it, it was you who came to his rescue. Your caring nature and warm personality melted his heart, and in that moment, your connection took flight.
Initially, you saw Jungwon as an innocent soul, a blank canvas brimming with sweetness and charm. The adorable dimples on his face made you want to protect him at all costs. But little did you know that behind that innocent façade, Jungwon was hiding a deeper, more passionate side. On Christmas day, 25th December, you engaged in a playful exchange of gifts. You surprised him with a promise ring, leaving him in tears as he realized the depth of your love. From that moment on, your relationship deepened, shaped by the unique dynamics between you two.
Today, Jungwon was more determined than ever to win the gift exchange, his competitive spirit evident in his confident demeanor. As night fell, you heard a knock on the door of your shared apartment. Opening it revealed Jungwon, a mischievous grin spread across his face. In his hands was a carefully wrapped gift. As your curiosity piqued and your fingers itched to see what was inside, Jungwon only held it out of reach, teasing you playfully. You couldn't help but feel a mix of intrigue and frustration, wondering what surprise awaited within.
*Inside the apartment*
As you sit down with Jungwon in your beautifully decorated apartment, the scent of roses and candlelight fills the air. The Christmas season is in full swing, with the apartment adorned with festive decorations. Enjoying a delicious meal together, you both chat casually about your day, savoring the peaceful atmosphere.
With the main course finished, the true excitement of the gift exchange begins. You hand Jungwon your gift, eagerly waiting for his reaction. He carefully unwraps the present, a mix of curiosity and anticipation on his face.
As Jungwon open the gift, his eyes light up at the sight of the small snow globe inside. A rush of nostalgia washes over him, transporting him back to his childhood years when he first discovered the magic of these trinkets.
He becomes lost in its gentle beauty, his gaze fixed on the swirling snowflakes within. Memories flood his mind, recalling how much joy the snow globe brought him as a child. With a soft smile on his face, he gently holds the snow globe close, cherishing the moment of connection to his past self.
"How- how did you know i love this?" He's stutter, processing how much you about him.
"Your old picture back in the day, i seen every single one of yours, holding this snow globe!" You said. Chuckle at how surprised he's now which give you nothing but a warm feeling.
Jungwon chuckles softly, a tinge of warmth and fondness in his voice. His eyes still fix on the snow globe in his hands.
"Ah, those days..." he muses, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"I can still picture myself looking at this little snow globe with such glee. I can't believe you still remember that picture. You know me too well, love"
"Now where's my gift darling ~" you asked for the gift. You know that you'll always accept everything he has offer for you, eveb if it's a letter.
You can't help but grin eagerly as Jungwon hands you his gift, your excitement evident on your face. Despite the small size of the package, you know that Jungwon always manages to choose the perfect presents that touch your heart. Taking the tiny box, your hands tremble with anticipation as you carefully remove the wrapping. With a mix of curiosity and joy, you open it to reveal a small letter inside.
"I have nothing other than my love m/n, let's create more memory together i love you 사랑해 >3" You chin turn into a pout, the emotion rush into your face, like you're about to form a tears.
"Babe-- you're so sweet I'm gonna cry"
"I've always love you m/n, but did you read all of my letters?" You tilt your head slightly, before flip the letter to it back and see more words on it.
"The real gift is me?" You read it out loud, furrow your eyebrows slightly, the next thing you know, his half lower body become naked, with a Christmas's bow clenching on his member, only an unbutton shirt clinging on his body.
"What" You face turn into a watermelon color, it's so hot in your point of vew, that you almost get nosebleeds.
He's also shy too, but he shrugged it off let you enjoy the view, waiting for your response.
"Y-you naked and—"
"You like it? I know you always think I'm all cotton candy, but you're wrong babe, I'm as wild as you"
"As wild as who? W-hat?"
"Don't act silly babe, you're masturbate in our bathroom almost everyday aren't you"
The blood rushes to your cheeks, turning them a bright red, How did he found out about you, pleasuring yourself even though you're tried all your best to cover it. Slowly, Jungwon closes the distance between you, gently cupping your cheeks in his palm. He leans in and brushes a soft kiss against the tip of your nose.
"You want me didn't you? Now that I've won, you have to do anything as i say, right?" He said, his eyes full of lust and desire, in a heart shape, Jungwon's natural blush spreads across his face, which turn you on even more.
In a moment of passion, Jungwon presses his lips against yours, claiming your mouth in a fierce kiss. The intense of the moment leaves you breathless, overwhelmed by the taste, wet lip and feel of his kiss as it deepens. while his naughty hand slide down lower and lower to your neck, rubbing your collarbone as he unbuttoned your shirt one by one until your chest got exposed completely.
You surrender to his desires, allowing him to take control in the moment. As the winner of the gift exchange. and you wouldn't lie when you see his dick twitching in pre-cum and being exposed at the sight, touching your stomuch is just click the button, turning you on like crazy, along with the tie bow wrapped around his crotch, make him looks cute and hot at the same time.
Your hand holding on around his shoulder as you dipping his head pressed against yours harder, leaving no space between you two, let him ruinyour lip till it's red swollen.
His snake-like-hand continue to careless your collarbone, making you're tickled Before squeezing your nipples until it's hard, as your groans let out during the make out session.
"I want you m/n and i know you want me too, do you want to do this with me?" Despite the intensity of the moment and the passion you share, Jungwon remains sensitive and thoughtful, he pauses to seek your consent, ensuring that you are comfortable and willing to doing this m together. You are overwhelmed by a wave of admiration and gratitude, knowing that you have found the love of your life who's perfect inside out.
You nodded in eagerness, wanted to continue as he's smirk in satisfied.
"Do you want you to warm up or doing it raw?" He ask, still asking for your opinion. You respond that you want to take things slow before jumping into it, so he fulfill your wish.
He let you kneel down on the floor, pose his hip a lil more to front, while his hand stroking on his own cock, Pulling the foreskin up and down to expose the head of his crotch.
You spare no more time, didn't hold it back, before grabbing on his shaft, stroking him without his instructions. Your other hand move to his balls, play with it, squeezing it in a seductive manner. The sensation of your talents hand on him, send him a jolted inside his body, as he huffs at the pressured you gave him.
Despite how sensitive he is, in just a few minutes of stroking, he feel like he's on the edge already, his uncut foreskin's moving by your palm non stop, drawing him more and more closer to his climax.
To his surprised, you know he's already in mid way of coming, so you slam your lip, taking all his throbbing inside your mouth in one go, starlets him in a flame of ecasty,as his leg began to trembling and shaking, throwing his head up, facing the ceiling at your unpredictable blow job.
"You're so good m/n, who teaches you all of this Ahhh" he cried out, his whine small moaning, giving you an unknown motivated to suck the life out of him.
He whimpers like a lil boy, squirming in pleasure, as his body signaling him, he's almost reaching his perk.
"I'm about to cum — you sure you don't want to let me cum outside your mouth? — NGH" You reply back with your eyes, knowing that he's about to release, you processing to swirling your tongue on the tip of his length inside your mouth, in circles. Leaving him breathless, with his heartbeat become more shudder in arousal.
In one last jerk, his cum splashing out, inside your throat, pushing the back of your head to take him deeper as he's crushing his hip forward pressed harder against your pretty lip, filled you in with his hot orgasm that he has been saving for a week for this moment.
"P-please swallow it" he said in his embarrassed tone, requesting you to take all his semen. You gulp down all his cum licking all the remaining that leaking from your lip.
"Do you want more babe?" You mumble, asking if he wants more, but you hear nothing from the boy, as he dropped himself down on the chair for a support, his body is numb right now with all arousal he had never felt before, this is the first time of masturbating that hit his sweet spot.
"My tip is.... Huff huff... Very much sensitive right now, let's continue later" he answer in his shaking voice, proving that he's pretty worn out.
You smile happily, enjoy what you just did with him, he's one in a million and it's only for you.
🗣️ please mind my English! ><
🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥
🗣️ crd to all pics÷rs
🗣️ I'm suck at summary in this work, so I use some help from bot 🫠 that's why when it's smut, it's different pardon me ><
#enhypen#enha x male reader#enha x you#enha imagines#enhypen jungwon#yang jungwon#jungwon x reader#jungwon x male reader#jungwon x you#enhypen smut#enha smut#enha scenarios#enha x reader#enhypen scenarios#enha fluff#kpop x male reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fic#enha fanfic#enhypen x male reader
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Pick A Card Reading: Your Soulmate's Letter To Santa About You 💌
PILE 1
Dear Santa,
I want to thank you for my gift from last year, lol. She is amazing.
She makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. Sometimes I smile so hard my cheeks burn.
I've never felt happier in my life.
The way she talks, the way she moves, the way her eyes brighten up when she looks at a puppy or a piece of chocolate pie, they all drive me wild.
I want to be there for her, this Christmas and every other Christmas after this one. I want to buy her a house as a gift and a ring to go with it, maybe even a car? She doesn't like to drive that much but my baby has to have everything she wants.
What she wants she will get. I love her. I adore her. She owns my heart and soul. I'm proudly whipped.
Thank you Santa, I'll take care of her heart ❤️
~ Your soulmate is a provider. They must be a "golden retriever" type of person. I'm hearing "here comes the boy!". When you first meet them you won't expect to fall so hard for them. They have a compatible sense of humour with you.
PILE 2
Hey Santa Baby,
Am I in the naughty list? Great!
This year I put up with no bs and I said "bye" to everything that held me back. I let go of the old stories and left the world behind.
Well, not the whole world, because I met that special someone and they are amazing. I'm writing down my goals for next year and I want one of them to be to deepen my relationship with my soulmate.
I know that they are special, I'm not crazy! I consciously make the choice to commit to them. I feel like we are twin flames and can not wait to explore they way their mind works.
I want to help them unlock their potential. They are a force to be reckoned with and they don't even know it.
Bye, for now!
~ Your FS (yup, they are) is someone who could very well be a motivational speaker or a content creator in that space. They love doing challenges like 75 hard and lighting up other people's fire. They could also be an athlete or ex athlete. You will love this person's practical nature and approach in life. This person is also very spiritual and they probably have heard of Ayahuasca and other popular terms etc. They remind me of a Tech Founder in silicon valley who is I'm woowoo stuff (no worries, I'm the woo woo stuff).
PILE 3
Santa,
I'm ready to move on from this year. My faith is stronger than ever before.
I've wished for so many things in the last few years. Many of them manifested into my life but one thing still hasn't showed up yet and I'm very bumped because of that.
Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the life I live and lead. I have almost everything I've wished for but that almost is killing me.
I know she is out there. I've felt her energy before. Since I was a child, whenever I looked up to the stars, I felt this overwhelming connection with someone. This invisible string tagging at my heart at all times. No one has ever made me feel this way and I know that it is unfair to say that for my previous partners but I miss her. I miss someone I've never met. Can you please bring her to me this year? I don't want anything else but my love to come back to me in this lifetime.
I know that the time to meet her is coming. I can feel it, but make it as fast as you can. Please.
I have a lot of goals for the year, especially financial ones. I'll try to focus on them until she comes. Where is she? Where is my love?
I will know she is here when I lay my eyes on her. My heart will speed up and the world as I know it will shutter. Shutter my world darling. I don't care. I made that world by myself and it is time we build our own world together.
P.S. Send loving energy to my soulmate, they need it. Tell them I will buy them their gift myself next year, but for now... This, sadly, has to do.
~ Awww your soulmate is very sweet and... depressed! They don't show it to anyone though but when they are alone at night they drink a glass of wine and think about you. They would want you to be there.
This person is very, stoic and "protected". That give me "military" vibes even if they have nothing to do with the military. This inability to outwardly express their feelings. You will baby them a lot and it is going to look comical but they will love it. Your FS might be older and taller than you and people will laugh when they see how much of a baby they become around your presence. They are very tired of being lonely. Don't get me wrong, this is not someone mopping around, they are just a "closeted" romantic. They hide their true feelings and you will know they love you because they will do acts of service for you or you will catch micro expressions. As soon as you enter in an official relationship they won't be able to keep their hands away from you.
#astrology#tarot reading#tarot#pick a card#pick a pile#pac reading#pick a photo#pick a picture#soulmate#intuitive messages#intuitive readings#pac#psychic#tarotblr#channeled message
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Only The Best For You
Kimi Raikkonen x Fem!Reader
Warnings: dad's best friend!kimi, reader is 20/21 - reader is old enough to make her own decisions, your dad isn't pleased with the gift, one mention of alcohol and one mention of death, sexual tension, kinda power imbalance, kimi gives into the intrusive thoughts, nipple play, fingering for like 0.2 seconds, one use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual way, penetrative sex (p in v), gagging, finger sucking, 'whore' used in a sexual/degrading term.
Word Count: 2,400
Author's Note: for all my dad best friend freaks and the kimi whores, this one's for you <3 -- also ignore that it's gucci in the pic but it's something different in the fic loool I couldn't find a different pic I liked.
merry smutmas series
--
Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly.
An old L/N family tradition.
Since you were a child, your parents and grandparents allowed you to open one gift from them on Christmas eve, letting you enjoy the magic of Christmas a few hours early.
You were grown up now, in college and your grandparents had sadly passed on but your parents kept the tradition going. You had come home for Christmas break and it was Christmas Eve. Your parents have just finished dinner and you have moved to the living room.
It was yourself, your parents and your dad's best friend, Kimi. You had known Kimi your whole life practically but he was always away racing so you never saw much of him until lately, now that he's officially retired - for good this time.
"Shall we open gifts?" Your father asks, walking into the living room. He passed a glass of what looks like whiskey to Kimi, who was next to you, before sitting beside your mother.
She looks over at her husband. "Honey, isn't she too grown for that?"
Your father rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "It's a family tradition, now hush. Go pick a present."
Your mum picks first, picking one from your father that just so happened to be the new perfume she wanted. Your father was next and he picked out one from you. It's a story book he used to read to you as a kid, you had written all of your favourite memories of the two of you inside of it. You made him cry, both you and Kimi laughing about that.
"Go ahead, sweetheart." Your father nods towards the tree, you move from the couch to the floor, kneeling in front of the tree to pick out a gift.
A gift sticks out to you; red wrapping paper with little elves of it and your name written in cursive across the front of it. You pick it up, shaking it a bit to see what was in it.
It felt hard, as if it was a box. You looked towards your parents, "is it from you guys?"
Your dad looks towards your mom; she took care of all of the holiday shopping. The woman shakes her head, "it's not from us, sweetie."
The gift on your lap when you glance over your shoulder at Kimi. He gives you a small smile, so small you almost miss it.
He nods towards the gift, waiting for you to open it. You rip the wrapping paper very carefully, revealing the red box underneath; the gold lettering was cursive - Cartier.
Your jaw was already dropping, looking back at the man. "You didn't," you say and he nods again, waiting for you to open the box to see what was inside.
"Kimi, what did you do?" Your mother asks, looking over at your father. He was never one for brands or jewellery, he didn't realize that buying something there automatically was an expensive purchase.
Lifting the cover carefully, the velvet black fabric inside the box held a white gold chain, blue sapphires set along the entire thing.
If your jaw wasn't already on the floor, it would be now. "Kimi!" You turned to face the man, setting the box on the couch carefully. "You did not!"
"I did," he nods. He's always been a man of very few words; more of an action rather than words type of guy.
"What is it?" Your father asks and you hand the red box over to him for him to see.
He shows your mother as he holds the box, he doesn't realize that he's holding a little over €40,000 in his hands at the moment. "Oh Kimi, it's beautiful." Your mother gushes, handing it back over to you.
You were still on the floor, admiring the necklace in the box. "Well, turn around." Kimi says and you do, sitting just between his legs.
He reaches over to take the box from you and carefully takes the chain out of its box before you lift your hair. Kimi leans forwards and you can feel his fingers brush against your skin and his breath on your shoulders when he loops it around your neck and hooks the clasp.
"It looks gorgeous on you, darling." Your mom says, smiling at you.
Your phone's in one hand and your other hand gently touches the chain, straightening it as you admired how it looked on you. "Kimi, this is too much. It's so expensive." You whisper to him and he shrugs.
"How expensive are we talking?" Your father finally speaks, looking over at his friend.
Kimi answers nonchalantly; "Like.. €40,000."
Your father instantly sits up, his jaw hanging open. "What?! Kimi, are you out of your mind?"
"Please," he looks over at his friend in disapproval. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb passing over your soft skin. "She's a good girl, she deserves it."
You can't help but shift a bit when he calls you a good girl, the words hitting you right where you shouldn't. It was wrong, he was your father's friend and you were.. well, you were attracted to him. You couldn't deny it; Kimi was an attractive man and despite his lack of words, he was very charming.
"Y/n, say thank you. You can't not say it when he's spent so much." Your father tells you, and you turn around to face Kimi.
"Thank you, Kimi," you smiled at him, sitting on your knees when you reached up to give the man a hug. His arms wrapped around you, his warm hand pressed to your back. "You're welcome, angel."
Another nickname that hits you in all the wrong places.
--
As the night goes on, your parents head up for bed as do you. Kimi was the last one to bed from your understanding and as the house grew quiet, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
You find yourself sat on your bed, pjs on - a tank top and a pair of shorts with a €40,000 chain around your neck.
It was nearing 3am, the witching hours as your mum says. You find yourself getting up and heading downstairs. The initial thought was to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but you got side tracked when you see a light coming from Kimi's room.
You knock, peeking around the space left between the door frame and the actual door. "Come in," he waves to you and you step in, shutting the doors behind you. The TV was on, a rerun of some show you couldn't quite place was on.
"What are you doing up?" He asks, glancing at his phone to check the time. "Do you know how late it is?"
"I couldn't sleep," you tell him, looking over at the TV. "Can I join you?"
He shrugs, nodding towards the empty space next to him. You quietly make your way over, sitting next to him on the bed. Kimi don't miss the way your shorts hike up when you crawl over to the empty spot; it's so wrong for him to be looking at you like that but can you blame the man? You were gorgeous and you were in his bed after all.
The two of you sit quietly, watching as the show rolls on into another episode. You unconsciously play with the chain, shifting it back and forth slowly.
Kimi looks over at you, smiling to himself; you were the picture of beauty.
"You're staring," you mumble, glancing at him. He smiles, like actually smiles. "You're beautiful."
Your cheeks are red, you hope that the light coming from the tv isn't bright enough for him to realize that just yet.
"It looks good on you," he says, "like it was made for you."
"Blue has always been my favourite colour." You smiled, glancing down at the chain. "Did you pick it yourself?"
He nods, "I saw it and thought of you, I figured you'd like it."
"I do, very much." You look over at him, Kimi smiles at you and your hand shifts from your thigh to his, rubbing along it softly. Kimi's brows furrow ever so slightly. He doesn't say anything, hoping that you'd stop if he ignores it.
You were persistent.
Your hand travels higher, about to rub over the ever so evident bulge in his shorts but Kimi catches your hand, holding your wrist. "We can't, y/n."
"Why not?"
"It's wrong," he whispers, glancing at the door - you weren't sure if he wanted you to leave or if he was catching to see if it was locked. You wiggle your hand from his grasp, Kimi lets out a small breath of relief; see, the man was stupid enough to think you were stopping.
You didn't stop. Instead, you got on his lap, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. Kimi's hand rests on your lower back as he looks at you.
"Let me thank you properly," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.
Kimi reaches up, his lips pressed to yours but he's yet to kiss you. "You don't have too."
"I want to.. I want you," you mumbled, finally kissing the man. Your hand cupping his jaw, Kimi's hand slips under the tank top you had on and slides up your back to undo your bra but finds you don't have one on.
Kimi pushes the straps of your tank top down off your shoulders. You sat comfortably on his lap, letting him have his way with you and the man wanted one thing. He leans forward, arms wrapped around you as his lips wrap around your nipple.
“Kimi, fuck- please.” You mumble, your hand tangled in his blonde hair, tugging on it. As such as you loved the attention, you needed him.
He glances up at you, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. He groans when you pull on his hair a little harder but what's a little pain when he's making you feel good?
It was heavy, heated.
His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Kimi's hands on your ass when he kissed you again.
Not a word is spoken between the two of you and what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over. You were flat on your back with Kimi settled between your legs.
“Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “daddy, please.”
The pet name makes his cock twitch; it's sinful, so sinful in so many ways but he couldn't care less. You drove him mad.
His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.
Kimi’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.
He moves his finger slowly, curling it. He takes pleasure in watching you, seeing how your face twists and how your body reacts to his touch.
"Please," you whimpered, "don't make me wait."
Kimi can't bring himself to say no to you.
He sits, pushing his shorts down and you get the hint, getting on top of him. Your hands grip on his shoulders, balancing yourself. Your knees on either side of his lap, Kimi's hand reaches under you to help you, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, making your hip shift forward a bit. His free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him, his name tumbling from your lips.
You take a moment to get used to the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs along your lower back, leaning into you to kiss down your neck.
You rock your hips forward and Kimi's head drops back, his eyes now closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips now on his neck - a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.
He pulls one of your legs up forward, pulling you down further. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Kimi's hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit.
Your head falls back, manicured nails digging into his pale skin when he hits the spot he was looking for. He watches as you bounce on his lap, the sapphires around your neck bouncing in rhythm with you. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.
Your brows furrowed, an excited look on your face despite it all. You can feel his cock twitch in you, his lips next to your ear when he leans in.
"You've got to be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want them to catch you being a whore for me, hm?
You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. Your tongue laps around his fingers, Kimi watches as you suck on them. There's a wicked smile on his face, his hips lifting to meet you halfway.
He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure. Kimi leans forward as his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue lapped over your nipple, biting on it softy; just enough to get you to arch your back, pushing into him.
“Come on darling,” he mumbles against your skin, now kissing up to your collarbone. Kimi's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”
His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back.
Your heart beats out of your chest as you catch your breath. Kimi smiles, kissing along your shoulder. "Feel good?" He asks and you mumble something, your head resting on his shoulder.
"I take it I should spoil you more often, hm?" He chuckles, making you smile when you sit up. Kimi straightens your necklace, kissing your chin.
You shake your head and smile. "Don't have to spoil me for me to do that."
Kimi smiles at you, giving you a kiss. "Merry Christmas, y/n."
"Merry Christmas, Kimi."
--
taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus
#kimi raikkonen#kimi raikkonen smut#kimi raikkonen x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 smut#merry smutmas xoxo
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[🐟]: Okay, 2 things about Kaiser’s profile that was recently released:
One, I find it both sad and endearing that his favorite animal is a stray dog. Like, he could’ve just said dog, y’know? In many ways, he’s like a stray dog—without a home, both in a literal and figurative sense. Stray dogs are born into the world and left on their own to survive. Why? ‘Cuz they’re unwanted. Unplanned.
I’ve been advocating for the control of stray dog/cat population and responsible breeding. It’s just so heartbreaking to see dogs that are left to d*e on the streets. If I could, I take them all with me in a heartbeat. Anyway, I’m getting off track.
Kaiser probably sees himself in those poor animals. And oh my god that is so sad :((
Two, kind of ironic that he was born on Christmas day yet he hates receiving presents. Don’t you think? Also, don’t you think it’s quite amazing—as parents—to have a child on Christmas day? Maybe not for Kaiser’s mom and dad though. If he were born to a different set of parents then maybe he would’ve been seen as a gift from god.
Oh wait…
Crazy huh?
We always understood the emperor part but now here we are. What in the juxtaposition ?!
Okay, bye bye. I’ll go sob in a corner now.
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🩺 pairing: paediatrician!bf!seonghwa x neurosurgeon!gn!reader 🩺 genre: fluff, doctor au, established long-term relationship, festive fic 🩺 summary: in the early hours of a shared night shift right before christmas, the present turns into a gift, and seonghwa can't be happier and more in love 🩺 wordcount: 7.8k total 🩺 warnings/tags: slightly edited, the fluff is strong, simpery is real, two doctors with heart eyes, marriage, proposals, family, hwa is yearing, woo cameo, woo+hwa banter, yeo+yunho mention, mom+kid side ocs, needles/syringes, injections, hospitals, night shifts, unconventional marshmallow toasting, a lot of love and sharing life <3 🩺 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🩺 a/n: happy holidays and merry christmas~ the idea for this was in the drafts for ages, reignited hardcore by @starrysvn(...the cameos hehet), and it feels right for the festive season~ much love! comments, reblogs, notes all appreciated
Clean and comforting. The poster-room of an office, personalised, and yet retaining all the professional qualities necessary. The gentle swaying of the tulle that transformed the twinkling of a myriad of skyscrapers outside and a magnificent deep navy and inky black star-filled sky into a soothing haze, the ticking of a clock adorned with illustrations from the doctor’s favourite franchise. There was a unity even in the multicoloured shelves and cupboards. Stickers, kindly left behind by particularly pleased, proud and excited patients turned into permanent decorations on the sides of the otherwise strictly uniform desk, bringing relief and encouragement to its occupant. The newest additions - a small desk Christmas tree that was decorated on theme with the rest of the space, and a couple of garlands elegantly hung on the top cupboards and above the tulle served as reminders that it was, in fact, the festive season, and celebrations were only a day away. Even so, healthcare could not take a holiday, and the hospital was busier than ever.
“Hey… do you like… Lego?”
It had been long enough since the beginning of the appointment, as Doctor Park Seonghwa had noted, but the little patient sitting in front of him was still refusing to succumb to the wrath of a ‘spooky scary needle that makes him go ouchy’. Seonghwa could not blame the boy though - if there was something he never did, it was to project a child’s behaviour outwards into adult societal expectations. As a matter of fact, he rarely did that for adults too. He never saw the point, nor did he wish to impose some alternative spin on reality onto anyone who he had the pleasure of meeting, especially his patients or their relatives. As L/N Junseo crossed his arms in disapproval, Seonghwa could not help but spin a tiny fraction on his stool that he used during appointments such as this, and sneak another piece of sporadic scrutiny towards the mother. As he had assumed, there was little comfort to be offered from her side - she was sitting in a corner across the room, fanning herself and sending worried glances in the approximate direction of both the doctor and her son.
So, he had no choice left. He had to pull the most powerful weapons out of his arsenal - inspired by the many pieces that served as baubles on his desktop tree. Seonghwa was grateful that he had the foresight to not unpack the disposable syringe before checking the kid’s tolerance. Judging by the smile that spread across the boy’s face, and the confused expression gracing his mother’s, Seonghwa knew he hit the jackpot and there was potential for him to catch a break if the appointment did not run over, and if he was lucky enough, perhaps the main reason behind his rush would be free too. The simple thought inadvertently crawled into Seonghwa’s mind, and he lowered his gaze to suppress a shy smile and return to being the amiable paediatrician that he needed to be.
“Now, mister Junseo, will you wait a couple of seconds for me?” After receiving his patient’s enthusiastic nods of approval, he spun around on his stool, and rolled towards the cabinet that occupied the majority of the right wall of his office.
Stopping himself from crashing into his desk with a fast hand, he opened one of the lower doors to reveal a series of colour coded and labelled trays, each one filled to the brim with even more vibrant hues, but maintaining a strict order. Pulling the first and then the second tray from the top, the doctor inspected the contents, and decided to give the final decision to Junseo, turning to him with a grin on his face.
“Dinosaurs or spaceships?”
“Spaceships!” just as Seonghwa had thought, this question broke through the storm clouds of doubt and fear, cutting right down to Junseo’s primary interests, some of which the young doctor just so happened to share – the only difference was that the latter had to also remember that he had a job to do, and that job involved convincing, or cleverly deceiving with good intentions, a little kid into a routine shot. It was hard not to wonder what your, his life partner’s, reaction would be if you were in this room with him, considering that this environment was probably the furthest a space from your natural habitat - the operating room, could be.
“A man of good taste I see. I mean, dinosaurs are cool too, but I will let you in on a little secret… I have matching spaceship band aids,” As he pulled out the tray that contained some pre-built spaceships, with the bricks being from a younger-child-friendly set, along with stray pieces that turned the set into the perfect cognitive and sensory exercise, Seonghwa took time to explain his actions to the boy. In a way this was not too dissimilar from the preparation of instruments for surgery, so perhaps you would find joy in this interaction to the same extent as him. He shook his head lightly, reeling himself back to the matter at hand.
Sometimes, Seonghwa pondered whether too much of his budget, and, on occasion, personal finances, went towards making his office be more of a playground than what one would imagine ‘a doctor’s lair’ to be – in his mind, that was your office, one that he visited enough times to memorise. An ode to modernity, with books and documents, diagrams and an anatomically accurate model of a brain with various labels - just what one would expect of a real doctor. But both fortunately and unfortunately, this was a style that Seonghwa would not attempt to achieve in his own office. There was a mat on the floor made out of foam puzzle pieces, there was every form of toy transport he could find, animals, dolls… he swore he appeared in toy stores more regularly than in the pharmacy at this point. But the joy with which his patients’ faces lit up was more than encouraging, reminding him that he was on the right path, he was doing well, and that everything was worth it.
“NO WAY!” Junseo yelled out, excitedly kicking his feet. The paper towels that lined the bench rustled slightly, the link between the sheets being stress tested – much like the mother, who appeared to be speechless, but at least no longer faint.
Seonghwa imagined that his present conclusions and responsive actions were not too distant from how teachers felt when they saw a certain type of action be executed by a child, and then saw its origins during parent teacher conferences. The conclusion had come to his mind on its own accord but resounded loudly enough for him to send a reassuring gleam to Missus in the corner, and observe her delayed reactions as she, evidently, was battling the instinct to throttle him to the ground and save her child from danger. How wild and fascinating the generational sharing of fears and burdens was. Seonghwa turned his attention back to the star of the show, who was eagerly waiting for the eloquently advertised, and much anticipated, spaceships.
“Yes way! And I can show them to you later.” Seonghwa responded with a chuckle, setting the tray next to the boy, making him turn to the side and better expose the arm that was to receive the intramuscular injection. Even though Junseo was now fully immersed in the toy provided, he still expressed his gratitude, forcing the man to use every ounce of strength in him to not melt.
“Thank you so much Doctor Park!”
"No, thank you! Lego is my favourite, you know, but if you picked dinosaurs, you could have heard my tyrannosaurus rex impression." He could hear some shuffling outside of the room, turning into a thud as he introduced his ‘special ability’ when it came to distraction tactics. It was straining, conducting all his appointments without a nurse, since quite a number had arranged to go on holiday for Christmas, including his favourite in the form of a tall man with the brightest smile and enough energy to power the whole building - Jeong Yunho. Was it a challenge for Seonghwa? Perhaps, but he was coping. Besides, would he really want anyone here with him except a certain someone who was not even in this specialisation?
"Awh... no... but that sounds so fun I wanna hear, I wanna hear!!!" The cute boy was practically begging, giving Seonghwa his best puppy dog eyes with a turn of his head – that would not do for the doctor’s mission, however, Junseo needed to be practically in a different realm for it to work.
"Could you attach this jet engine please?" In the softest voice he could muster, Seonghwa guided attention back to the spaceships, commenting on how well Junseo was assembling them. He infinitely admired the ability that children had to disregard common practices, ignore rules and simply create. As Junseo would get older, he would undoubtedly have to succumb to standardisation, but in the meantime, he could enjoy picking a wild palette of coloured bricks, not think about astrophysics when constructing the ships, and be perfectly satisfied with what he was crafting.
"Mhm..."
Using the moment of distraction, Seonghwa turned and reached for the hand sanitiser pump on his desk, cleaning his hands. With practised motions, as he returned to his seat in front of the kid, the doctor took out the prefilled syringe out of the pocket of his white coat, peeling the decontamination seal to fish the item out. He had a small window of opportunity and needed to act fast to seize it. From the other pocket, he produced a packet with an alcohol swab, carefully tearing it, as far away from Junseo as possible so that he would not be shocked by the smell.
"Now, Junseo, could you sit a little closer to me, so... oh thank you!" The child obediently shuffled, not taking his eyes off the Lego pieces. "You might feel a little cold on your arm, but don't worry I will roar that away, okay, you with me? Ah wait, how do we make that ship the strongest in the galaxy?" breath in, breath out. Watching the child’s movements so that he would not accidentally hurt himself. Lifting the sleeve of the t-shirt the Junseo was wearing ever so slightly, Seonghwa crept towards the bench on his wheeled stool, praying to every higher power that he would be done with this appointment soon, but retaining his professionalism. It was now or never.
"Imma show you-"
"Nyaaaaaaah~"
As soon as Seonghwa started, he was done, and the syringe was long hidden behind his back as he pressed a cotton ball to the area, though Junseo could not care less, having broken into a fit of giggles over the interesting interpretation of a t-rex. No matter how exhausted he was, this was one of the things the doctor lived for – having the ability to make medicine, doctor’s visits, and hospitals just a little bit less miserable for the little ones, something of a game or an adventure, him being of the opinion that these pocket-sized humans did not deserve to be exposed to the struggles quite yet. If it was in his power, he would have changed the ‘quite yet’ to never, but that was far too utopian, and something wiped out of him in first year of medical school. So, Doctor Park simply tried his best.
"DOCTOR PARK THAT WAS NOT A ROAR!!!" Junseo proclaimed, still giggling as he clutched onto a bright green brick. Seonghwa chuckled, sliding to the left to dispose of the syringe in a biohazard bin, stretching himself out so that he could still keep holding the cotton ball. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the mother beginning to come to her senses, the ‘high alert’ mode dropping to a more manageable, generally healthy parental worry.
"Then come on, show me what you've got. I bet you have a-"
"ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAR!!!" With him being startled by what he should have expected, he could not help but throw a glance at the other adult in the room, finding her surprised. Hands clasped together, she whispered ‘goodness gracious’, and upon finding out that she had a one-man audience, gave a sheepish grin and looked down. Seonghwa was calming down from his ‘performance’, the doctor, actor, caregiver and child-friendly comedian in him began to leave his body, giving way to a straightforward happiness of a man who could see that he helped out people in need.
"Wow now that is IMPRESSIVE Mister Junseo! Ah wait, could you hold this for me?” he gestured towards the cotton ball, and once the boy complied, backed away to get some more hand sanitiser. “We are done!"
"Huh? Wait... no ouchy?" genuinely confused, the toddler asked, dropping the Lego pieces entirely and blinking in slow motion.
"We scared the ouchy away with spaceships and your awesome roar, didn't we?"
"WE DID!! WE DID!!" With the cotton forgotten, Junseo was about to hop off the bench, his hands pressed into the dark grey material he had been sitting on, but before he could Seonghwa caught him, easily picking the boy up in his arms despite the weight that it put on him. After all, patients came first, and this was always a clear sign that he was trusted – besides, the kid did not have any other ailments, so a little hug would not hurt anyone, especially not Seonghwa’s soul.
"We did! I promised you a cool band aid too so... ah hold on let me... watch your head please." With Junseo still in his arms, Doctor Park ambled towards the other side of the office, closer to where the mother was now standing, to reach into one of the shelves and retrieve the packet of what he considered to be something akin to achievement stamps. A final well done from him to the patient, for being so courageous and letting Seonghwa poke them with a needle.
The rest of the appointment went by in a blur. The boy was safely back in his mother’s arms, sporting a colourful bandaid, babbling away about spaceships, quietly repeating Seonghwa’s dinosaur impression, and emphasising for the umpteenth time that ‘the injection actually did not hurt at all’, much to the mother’s delight. She looked to be on cloud nine as she held her bundle of joy, and even though he was bouncing on her lap to the point where the doctor would assume that she was in discomfort, the woman showed no sign, and instead gleamed at him, expressing genuine gratitude.
"So sorry for all the trouble and that I could not help in any way, please accept my-"
"No need no need! Junseo is such a sweet boy, and it was all his bravery in the end. I am just doing my job." He tried to assure her, flipping through the vaccination booklet she had provided and filling out the details of the shot. While checking the date just in case, despite him having a mental countdown to Christmas with the precision down to an hour practically built into his brain, he still noted the clock on his computer, memorising the time in order to figure out when approximately you would be done with the surgery you had arranged for this evening. Maybe he would have enough time to stop by your department, and manage to catch you there to ask about what plans for celebration you two would dare have in between busy schedules. His attention was guided back to the jovial duo on the armchair, as the mother spoke once more.
"You perform miracles, Doctor Park. Really. You are truly one of a kind! Before today I was convinced that he was wired to cry at every appointment..." she lowered her voice a little, just as Junseo turned away to pick at one of his trouser pockets.
"If you are worried about him developing any phobias and the like, I can recommend some amazing medical experts who can work with you and him?" Whenever anyone voiced a concern, he took it as part of his responsibility to respond wholeheartedly, and as such, once he completed the record, offered assistance. Perhaps this was also a safe zone for him, a removal from what otherwise would inevitably make his heart melt or ache. But to no avail.
"Oh no, no, I think I found the cure right here. Really, my husband will be so impressed about this!”
Husband. Happy family. There it was. Seonghwa felt the corner of his mouth twitch as he lifted himself off his chair, shut the booklet and returned it to the mother, and wife. It was difficult to convince himself that this was not jealousy tugging at his nerves and heartstrings, as the more he pondered the image of what had to be a perfect union, the dinners, the days out in the park, the little meet ups for lunch if either partner was otherwise busy… the domesticity got to him and made him want to slam the table in frustration. So, he did the next best thing, and clasped his hands behind his back so that he would not dare act out of line.
“Is that so?” he forced out, remaining composed as he returned the mother’s bows while she ushered her son forward and stood up to head for the door. He could not help but imagine the duo walking under the lights that adorned every shop, every street and coming home to their own tree, coming together as a small family in a cosy atmosphere. Similar routines, similar time off, the space to love and to live and to enjoy being ‘one’ to the fullest.
“I think he will want to come with us next time, to meet you, really… of course if you don't mind us scheduling check-ups with you from now on?" meet him… so Seonghwa could see the whole assembly… Really, right in the moment when his head was filled with thoughts of you, he had to be reminded of just how adorable some aspects of paediatrics could be, to the degree of malicious irritation.
He bet that the reason why you were so relaxed about your relationship was because you were not in direct contact with families and cute kids, for the most part. The closest you came to communicating with patients was in briefing, de-briefing and maintenance of their condition pre- and post- operation. He had to see the bad and good, the downs and ups, the rollercoasters and the memorable highs over long periods of time. Some of his patients he had known for so long, they were basically his relatives, and the personifications of sunshine that would rush to greet him, nearly stumbling over tiny shoes and sometimes barely reaching his waist, or even mid-thigh, restored his faith in the universe. It was exactly because he was aware of the downsides, and still desired this closeness and this next step with you, that he was cursing time itself for not allowing him to express this hope properly. Sure, you had discussed marriage, and both of you were more than committed to one another, but no words had been said about the part where someone popped the question. Was there ever going to be ‘the right time’? Especially when both of you were at the early stages of your medical careers, and were caught adrift in the chaotic shifts, training, exams and had to sacrifice yourselves for thousands who came through the doors of the hospital.
"Ah, whatever you would prefer, Missus Hwang. It would be an honour.” He squashed his nerves for the remainder of the appointment, and peacefully parted with the two visitors to KQ Hospital, wishing them the happiest holidays and for a stable recovery from the vaccination.
Seonghwa remained standing in the corridor, his back propping the door to the office. Closing his eyes, he listened to the opening of the elevator, and let out a breath he did not know he had been holding once Junseo’s excited, shrill voice was muted by the doors. Gears moved into action as the machine carried the mother and son away from the paediatric ward. The doctor rolled his head in an attempt to relieve at least some of the tension that had built up from the back-to-back out-patient care, the abominable late nights, and the vexatious haze that plagued him in his own life.
It was going to be a long night. And he was barely a quarter of the way through his night shift; perhaps the winter cold and the shorter days were to blame for the melancholy mood. As he straightened himself up once more, Seonghwa instinctively reached for the phone that was hidden in the pocket of his black trousers, hoping for any kind of distraction. Checking the time, messages, whether you had even seen his text about the maintenance people coming to check the plumbing next week… any sign that there was a world beyond his job. But the communication flatlined, and he resorted to simply staring at his lockscreen: a picture of the two of you during that one vacation that you had managed to book together. The one where, three days in, both of you had severe work withdrawal, but thankfully laughed it off and soothed the pain by falling asleep in each other’s arms. That was what he missed. The simple things. If there was one thing he wished for this Christmas, it was for you and him to spend it together - no one else, no pagers going off incessantly, no family members intruding on your time, not even friends. He missed you, even though you were right there. Of course, he still felt blessed to be able to embrace you almost every time you two would be floating into dreamland - be it in the morning or in the evening, aside from when shifts did not align, but he craved more, always. Maybe he was being greedy, wanting for even more of your time. Nonetheless, he hoped that his readiness to sacrifice all of his for you would, at some point, result in his most romantic dreams, akin to castles in the sky, coming true. He wished to well and truly build a life with you. Seonghwa had never thought that he would pay so much attention to labels, but something about settling down officially, being together ‘in sickness and in health’, as he had heard in the vows at his friends’ weddings, was leaving him in a state of longing, constantly, until it was a permanent buzzing in his head.
"So... Doctor Seong-nyah-" rudely tearing through his daydreams, a familiar voice startled the doctor, causing him to gasp and shove his mobile phone into his pocket with panicked haste.
"Wooyoung, don't test me, you are not my patient." Seonghwa gasped, and retorted with sudden venom, spinning to face the man who, evidently, had been loitering around in the corridor behind him for a lot longer than he would ever accept.
"But I want a sticker or a bandaid please~"
But the action only resulted in a stupor, as right there, hands in pockets, the ghost of a mischievous smile on perfectly tinted lips, was his favourite person. Doctor L/N Y/N, neurosurgeon, and definitely the one who had changed his brain wiring to short circuit every time he saw you. Before Wooyoung got any cheekier due to the lack of a response and the less than discreet gawking from Seonghwa’s end, he forced out a random commentary; anything to keep himself from going into cardiac arrest.
"You keep stealing my Disney princess ones anyways!?"
"Can't help it. Besides I've seen you snatch the toy sword so consider us even."
A light blush was threatening to coat his cheeks as he gazed at you, mesmerised by your cheerful reaction. Without a doubt you were imagining the scene, and had you been alone, would coo at ‘just how endearing’ it was. This was not the kind of ‘break between appointments’ that he was imagining, and while you were here, before him, very obviously free, Seonghwa was questioning whether this was a manifestation of luck or a curse.
"That was for safety… and… uh… hello my love.” he mumbled, while you smiled at him, and gave him a gentle wave, already anticipating that even if you were to speak, you would crack and reveal what you had been planning - a major step forward that had been plaguing your mind at almost all hours, even in rare snippets of quiet. Technically, what you had said to Seonghwa was true - it had been an operation, just of a different kind. Careful to not let the mandatory Santa hat you had tugged on your head as part of your department’s senior residents’ effort to ‘keep the spirits up’ slip, you adjusted it to be more snug, and rapidly returned your attention to your boyfriend, who was intently studying you, admiring every detail as though he had not seen each one a million times over.
"Y/N here found the dinosaur impression cute, just so you know." Stuck in a limbo between locking himself in his office and throttling Wooyoung to the ground, Seonghwa chose neither and was simply amazed at how you could remain so nonchalant.
"Were both of you… listening to the… but that is not-”
You and Wooyoung exchanged a knowing look, causing suspicion to rise in Seonghwa. He was not fond of it. Not in the slightest. There was something brewing, and that glint in your eyes was less than reassuring. What were you hiding from him? A million questions a second ran through his mind as he subjected you to scrutiny. First off, you had said that the surgery could be challenging. And yet he could not detect the slight furrowing in your brows, the slouch, the pursed lips that you normally had if you were monitoring a patient in critical condition.
"They were around the department, and I just so happen to know that you are a certified clown so..." Wooyoung began, purposefully winding the taller man up until he was ready to break the Hippocratic oath and cause harm.
"Says the person who can literally replace the fire alarm with his-"
“This is why you should follow my methods and do the whole ‘energy drink and coffee” cocktail before those ghostly long shifts, I tell you-” crossing his arms, Wooyoung appeared to be enjoying every moment he spent teasing his fellow colleague, ignoring how you were starting to get impatient, glancing down the corridor and back to the bickering friends.
“How even-”
"Well, I would more than like to consult the lovely, charming clown please, because I have a whole circus on my hands and need some help.”
That was all that was needed to regain all attention back. Seonghwa gave Wooyoung one last sidelong stare before focusing on you, attempting to figure out just what you were scheming. He knew better than to pry, however, if there was anyone in your relationship who was an expert in dissecting, be it literally or metaphorically, it would be you. That was exactly why he stood and waited with bated breath, fingertips dancing on his upper thigh. In trepidation, the young man’s mind replayed every shared moment with unfathomable clarity, leading him to wonder if this mischievous glint in your stunning orbs was further foreshadowing, much like your sudden announcement that you would be working the same hours as him today, and upon questioning passed it off as “a bit of Christmas luck”.
“Right…” Wooyoung’s voice appeared distant, barely audible against the thrum of nervousness and lighthearted suspicion. Running a hand through his wavy, neatly parted long hair Seonghwa gave you a lopsided grin before following you down the corridor and giving his colleague an amiable wave, along with a cheerful call of “see you later”. His friend had the whole night ahead of them - much like you and Seonghwa. Except, unfortunately, you and your partner were floors, departments away. Not that far in the grand scheme of things, but far enough for Seonghwa’s heart to start hurting when he least expected it.
Just like now, despite you being within arm’s reach, the proximity reminded him of just how much of a luxury such moments were, and how, should anything go wrong, you would metaphorically evaporate. The beeping of a pager would be enough to make you or him leave, that damned device having to be strapped on and prioritised above everything else. As less and less time remained until Christmas, the probability of it going off climbed higher and higher, so every step was a risk, and every scheduled consultation or out-patient care call when Seonghwa was mandated to hand off his monitoring duties to another resident - a temporary salvation.
You were in your scrubs, and were sporting a standard issue doctor’s coat, ever so professional. Though your back was facing him, Seonghwa could easily imagine the identity card clipped to the pocket above your heart, along with the embroidered hospital name and emblem, and your department. Neurosurgery. The top of the top, an art and a science so complex that Seonghwa was in awe of you eternally. How you dedicated your life to the mystery behind a person’s eyes, and how you could heal the terrifyingly enigmatic organ with astounding success. Determined, passionate in all ways, that was what had drawn the enamoured man to you, and what had made him fall deeper and deeper and vow to stay for as long as you would allow him. Would you be fine with him tagging along, just like this? Would you be willing to walk in the same stride?
“Hwa,” turning your head, you exclaimed your boyfriend’s nickname and then turned back to scan your pass to let you both through to another corridor, “how has your day been so far, lovely?”
“It’s been good, not too bothersome. Last appointment was a vaccination - not sure how or why the literal holidays were chosen for this, but who am I to judge,” looking around, Seonghwa responded. Quickly, he caught up to you, and in a matter of moments you felt how his fingers intertwined with yours, and his palm was pressed against you, as though a mirror image. Jigsaw pieces falling into a perfect union, your hands, stilled in harmony.
“Maybe not everyone wants to skip school,” you mused, poking fun at the times when your boyfriend did just that - at least before university and him choosing to major in medicine hit like a truck; in the blissful middle and high school days, so easy in retrospect - a fever dream.
“I’d love to hear what the little patient would think about that one… but really, Christmas? Why would you run the risk of having side effects over Christmas?”
“That’s true… but I bet you made the appointment a really good time. In fact, from what I have heard I am sure you did,” you teased, making Seonghwa squeeze your hand and click his tongue in pretend annoyance.
“Hey, I’m trying my best here-”
“-and you are making the world a better place,” you cut him off, squeezing back and urging him on, closer and closer to your final destination.
Seonghwa shook his head, bewildered at the sudden outburst of affection. You were normally not the kind to get too sappy at work - if anyone, it was him who would gush about the simplest things to you during a brief lunch break, while you would be nodding along with a grin on your face. You were excited about something, without a doubt. What it was, however, was beyond him, so he let you lead, while playfully questioning your behaviour.
“What’s gotten into you? Did you forget to put the plates back in the cupboard at home?” he squinted, slightly relieved when you chuckled but still left without a concrete answer:
“Can’t I praise the love of my life every once in a while?”
“You can, but-”
“-Besides, Yeosang, you know, my friend from paediatric neurosurgery, he said kids who you had treated talk about you non-stop. Maybe you should pay some of them a visit. If their treating doctors allow it, of course.”
Eyes widening, Seonghwa barely noticed you slipping away from him to grab a large bag you had stationed by a heavy exit door, and in bewilderment was concerned if he should believe your overwhelmingly kind message. All those little lives he had the honour of getting to know and trying his best to help… remembering him? It was at times like these, even the hardest days were worth it. For the present and for the future. He returned to reality only when he felt a gust of freezing cold air hit his form and goosebumps ran over his skin. Your proud, loving smile greeted him and encouraged him to walk on. When Seonghwa attempted to query your spontaneous adventurism, you waved it off - forward, only forward. Making a note of something fluffy in texture peeking out of the bag, he hoped for it to be at least a scarf; a doctor should know to not expose themselves to the risk of colds.
You led Seonghwa to one of the many secluded areas of the hospital - forgotten by most staff, this portion of the roof was the prettiest at night, when the lights of surrounding high rises and the rest of the metropolis stretching out as far as the eye could see all glimmered like a blanket of stars laid down on the precious planet. The city, forever awake, bustling with activity. A hand brushed against his upper arm, and he turned his head to see you holding his coat that he swore he had left in the call room. Gingerly, the article was in his grasp, and yet another question was travelling for you to tackle:
“Now when did you get this? I know I did not just leave it lying around.”
“Mhm, call room. Coat hanger. By the door. I am very aware. I picked it up on the way.”
“Sounds like someone had a lot of time…” trailing off, Seonghwa put on the coat, watching as you did the same. Apparently, that was not all that was in the bag, and with each item that was revealed, his surprise grew and grew.
“Just enough to prepare a little something,” in one swift movement, you caught your boyfriend off guard with sudden Santa hat attack - nearly covering his eyes with the white fluff, previously styled hair shooting out in different directions from under the accessory, you still deemed the mission successful, and giggled, elaborating: “now, we match.”
He could not not love you. Much like the nights in December were dark and his exhales turned to steam that was to be whisked away by the wind, he was confident in the fact that he was born to love you, and only you. It was funny to think that years ago he thought of other kinds of forever, only for them to fall apart in months. Seonghwa mused about different realities, but was never afraid of losing them until inevitably happened; not because he did not care at all, but because his heart was never in the right place. Now that his heart was home, it was clear. Most of all, the clearest sign of the truth that belonged to your relationship, was the subconscious fear, continuous and blended into every note of adoration. It was in his love for you that he found what it meant to be afraid to lose.
The young man did not want to lose these priceless moments - how you would make an elaborate plan and surprise him with it. How out of nowhere, before his very eyes was a blanket that you laid down on the roof, a portable heater that emitted a glow akin to that of a campfire, and a large wool throw that he assumed you wished to use to keep you both warm. That shine that he swore was coming from something heavenly within you as you dragged him to take a seat, your adorable cooing over him as you wrapped the two of you tight with the throw, and scooched until your body was pressed against his. On instinct, Seonghwa’s arm was around you, and he leaned in until he could smell the faint, comforting aroma of your strawberry shampoo. Staring into the heater, he imagined a gentle flame, falling into a beautiful daydream - a world where there was just you and him.
This was a long-standing fantasy of his, a picture of which he had painted for you many times while you counted stars on the ceiling of your bedroom, drifting off to sleep just before the chirping of the birds, the dawn bidding you farewell and wishing a good rest. Somewhere nowhere, in a place with no name, surrounded by no one and nothing, you two could stay for a little while and indulge in simplicity. An escape from the daily stresses, a dive into the daily bliss of being enamoured and having found one’s soulmate. In a little cottage that you two could rent out, with a little spot outside so you could pretend like you were properly camping, Seonghwa prayed for time in an earthly utopia.
“I couldn’t find sticks, So I hope you are fireproof,” a marshmallow was held between two delicate fingers right before his eyes. A large, white cloud and a hint that you might have been listening a lot more intently than you had let on.
“I- are we- are we about to be toasting marshmallows?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” the doctor followed your lead, stretching out his hand to the heater, imagining the marshmallow roast away; if Seonghwa were to squint hard enough, he could almost see the colour change.
A giggle escaped you, and you huddled into him, at peace due to the safety which you always said he naturally oozed. Without fail you told him how he was a walking spring day, a blessing, a shining star. The more you said it, the more confident he became in accepting the words as truth, and then, one day when he caught you admiring him from afar while waiting for him to finish rounds, acceptance turned into a fact. By loving you, and by letting you love him, Seonghwa learned to love himself. Thoughts of fond memories prompted him to give you a gentle poke, making you lift your head in perplexion. This, however, was quickly dispelled by a the sweetest kiss, deepened by a gentle hand that found purchase on the nape of your neck.
Lips so familiar, so addicting; each time they met was the kindling of a miniature paradise. A journey through time, to end only in the future, the present turned into a miracle in which he could immerse himself, all of his senses attuned to you. The touch of your lips was the rays of a sun in May, kind and soothing, blossoming into the finest beauty and the most satisfying serenity on verdant green leaves and gorgeous flowers. The only thing he could hear was the breeze creeping across the not quite as picturesque cement and metal, and the ghost of a mumble of “I love you” as you parted for air, still close enough to share it.
Lost in your eyes, Seonghwa wished he could never be found. He was willing to endlessly draw the maze that trapped him in them, adapting it to formulate a personal infinity. Eyelashes, eyebrows, nose, cheeks, lips, every blemish and freckle and scar were all priceless to him. You, in all your personal divinity, a universe that so intently studied him, loved every part unconditionally and invited him in to do the same. A symbiosis, a system of two stars orbiting one another - a gorgeous celestial waltz was how he saw you and him. Under the night sky full of constellations, you two were still the brightest. Seonghwa’s heart was full. He ever so softly let his hand slide to the side of your face, thumb gliding slowly over the skin of your cheek. Once, twice - perpetual motion, each one marking another second in which love grew stronger, and the yearning for his dream more intense. If only he could put it into words. And yet, courage only allowed him to muster a mere two which were far too general, ambiguous:
“Thank you.”
“I am glad we could do this,” you answered, sharing in his delight. You did not need anything else, seeing past the mellow, pleasant triviality.
“I think the only downside is that now I want to do this all the time,” his hand guided your head into the crook of his neck, so you could sit side by side, looking out into the urban expanse. Silence weighed on you, until a long-awaited suggestion reached Seonghwa’s ears.
“Well… we could. At least for Christmas.”
“As if we will be taking days off, yeah.”
“Who says we won’t?”
“I- huh?”
You took his hands in yours, and shuffled for you to be face to face. Much to your astonishment, when it came down to the critical moment when you would start being blatantly obvious in your intentions, you were not as anxious anymore. Everything felt more than right, and the comfortable quietude resembled the globe holding its breath for you.
“I have an idea,” your boyfriend was intrigued, but doubtful. He had hopes, sure, but he knew better than to keep them up, “so… ahem, well, for us it is standard practice to not schedule anything major on holidays, just in case, and thankfully I could… reschedule some things…”
“Uh-huh,” he nodded along, raising his eyebrow. Your hands held his more tightly on their own accord, shaking a little as you spoke.
“Well, so, yeah, you know how the head of… the head of paediatrics is a big family person right?”
“Yeah, comes with the job I suppose, and?” tongue darting over his lips, Seonghwa began to sense what you were getting at, and he swore there was not enough oxygen to sustain him, and a dizziness settled over his mind, clouding it, leaving behind only you, you, you-
“Hm… well… I think they would be more than happy to let a new family celebrate together… yeah?”
“...Yeah…yeah?”
“So what I’m saying is-”
“Will you marry me?”
“Beat me to it,” gleaming, you pulled him in, stopping a mere few millimetres away, seeking approval.
Hints of tears welling in his deep brown eyes induced your own. Pressed forehead to forehead, you memorised every tiny detail, how you felt, how Seonghwa felt, how you were both fondly mumbling ‘yes's and ‘always’s and ‘I love you’s over and over again; vows uttered at the beginning of a new chapter of a miraculous life, in perfect harmony.
“I’m sorry for the ‘no ring’ situation-”
“I’d marry you with paper rings,” Seonghwa responded at the speed of light, quoting one of the many songs that both of you loved to listen to, and would blast in the living room many times over, “how did you even plan this-”
“Don’t bash me, but Wooyoung was an accomplice-”
“Of course he was,” he flicked your nose with his and guided you into another kiss, your hat sliding away and almost falling to the ground, saved only by Seonghwa’s reflexes. Smiling against your lips, he only deepened the sensual expression of devotion, parting simply to confess,
“To think we were rehearsing the same thing but I was too scared to say it.”
“You are too precious. And I’m sorry if I’m too scary, angel,” you winked, earning an amused, airy laugh.
This could not be the furthest from how Seonghwa felt; the notion of you terrifying him was hilarious. Everything but you was the issue. You were his safe haven, his clarity. The one to whom he had already given away all his hours, be it in closeness or in his dreams both in the day and night. You were his and he was yours, and now that the one change he had been begging all the goodness in the galaxy for finally happened, he wanted to shout this from every rooftop, starting from this fated, isolated spot that must have been made for just you two.
“No, I am just more certain that you can read minds,” he gestured to the heater, the untouched marshmallows, the stars, and finally stopped at you, alluding to what was to be your proposal, turned mutual.
“Just because I poke around brains-” you began, only to be stopped by unparalleled cuteness in the form of a scrunched up face and a tiny smirk.
“Yeah, yeah, you aren’t even a cardiologist and you stole my heart-”
“Park Seonghwa, cease the flirting, we are getting married-” playfully, you slap his shoulder.
“Oh, you only saw the beginning,” a wiggle of the eyebrows. Your very soul fluttered at the sight of his megawatt grin, and the innocent peck left on your cheek.
“...I hope so,” your wish. To cherish the many sides, colours, shades, edges, angles of your spectacular Seonghwa.
“It’s decided. I’ll hit you with all the festive pick up lines starting tomorrow.”
As you settled back into an embrace, regarding the golden glow of your inner oasis that transposed onto all, previously dark, surroundings, you unwillingly played the role of the realist.
“Ask your department head first.”
“For a blessing?”
“No, silly, to confirm your freedom.”
“Yes, Doc’,” in jest, your fiance saluted you, and you wrapped your arms tighter around his waist, brushing your jaw against his shoulder.
“Page me after."
“I will page myself across the hospital to tell you.”
“Awh, my Seonghwa Claus and my present in one,” absent-mindedly, you reached for a stubborn strand of his hair to push away, and twirled it around your digits, careful to not ruin the perfect balance of the themed hat beneath which they tried to establish their own order, threatening to disturb your elated angel.
“My future spouse- oh I’ll be saying this so often.”
From one day to the next, under the sun and moon, with many seasons passing by, you became the time that you seeked and previously fought against. As you looked to one another for more and more in your lives, it was destined that eventually, the idea of any other path would be simply impossible. At the end of a year came a new beginning, witnessed by the observant stars and by the long winter night.
“Me too, my love, until I can call you my husband.”
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