#that should be our official reaction

[neuroticbookworm]

Mr. 'So done with these hoes' Sand is my spirit animal

Some of his hits from episode 1:

"Bump into the real deal and he might not get to wake up again"

"I'm gonna charge you more than an airport taxi"

"How did you manage to live this long?"

"I'd rather help a dog than help you"

And my personal favorite: The irony of this shirt

Immediately followed by this:

He's so done with this gang's bullshit and he has only interacted with one of them. I love one (1) sassy bitch and his name is Sand

[mikkeneko]

I've been musing a bit on that one post that went around during the recent holiday season, to which someone added their family tradition of Present Practice. My god! Imagine actually telling kids what behavior is expected, instead of expecting them to intuit it and punish them when they get it wrong!!

Separate post because this topic is a little tangential to that, but I think it does a great job of unearthing one of our very well-hidden internal biases, which goes as follows:

Good people don't need to be taught.

A good person (in this case, a good child) shouldn't need to be told to be gracious and grateful when given a gift. A good child should just know that a holiday tradition of gift-giving is a social performance to strengthen family bonds and that personal preference or genuine reactions are secondary to that performance. A good child should just know how to value gifts, how to express thanks, how to praise and compliment. No caretakers in their lives should need to put any effort into instructing or modeling these things.

Good people should just know how to be good. If they were really Ontologically Good, their inherent goodness would simply intuitively guide them to correct behaviors. If they can't do that on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.

.

.

...Which all sounds very reasonable and obvious, and surely a mistake that only fundie christian families would make! Except that people in the social justice sphere also do this all the time. It's not anybody's job to educate you. It's 2024, how do you not know this already? If you were a Good Person, you wouldn't need to be taught. You would simply intuit the correct philosophies and gravitate to them according to your superior internal moral compass.

If you were a Good Person, you would already know that everything you were taught by your family and/or background was wrong. You should have rejected it already. You should have cut off your family, your heritage, everything about your childhood and upbringing that was Bad and Wrong. You should have known it was all a lie.

If you were a Good Person, you should be able to find the correct way yourself. You should be able to seek out the proper educational resources, and distinguish them from bad advice leading you astray, and make sense of them all according to your own internal moral code.

If you were a Good Person, you would have found your way by the proper, dignified, official channels, not by reading a comic or watching anime. You shouldn't need entertainment or art to guide you. You should just know.

And if someone can't do these things on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.

[tender-rosiey]

hiii this is my first time requesting so i dont know how specific or vague i should get :,) but maybe a scenario between sukuna and reader on how their wedding ceramony(and maybe afterparty) went? i saw an edit of sukuna with lana del rey’s margaret and immediately thought you could write this scenario since all of your husband!sukuna works are chef’s kiss “:D

true oath — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works anon and I hope you like this as well 🥹 ALSO special thanks to @lexiene and @camelnose for beta-reading BIG HUGS TO BOTH OF YOU SRSLY MWUAHHH

the servants scurry all around the room, trying to finish as much as possible in the time frame they have been given.

meanwhile, you are sat in front of your vanity with your personal maid who is putting the final touches to your makeup. you let out a soft giggle at the franticness of the others then look at the mirror to examine yourself.

the kimono had been handpicked by sukuna himself, something he believed was only logical—given that, according to him, nobody knows you as well as he does, and of course, that you’re getting married to him.

you thought he was being overconfident in his abilities, but to your surprise, he really did end up choosing something that—both—fit you well and you liked very much.

though, you wouldn’t tell him that. you wonder what his reaction would be to how you actually look in it, especially since you barely made him agree to not seeing you until the ceremony.

“no.”

“sukuna, come on,” you huffed, clinging onto his arms, “it’s a tradition!”

“I don’t care about traditions, you know that,” he replied simply and carried you in his arms.

you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, “please, honey?”

he looks at you for a few moments before clicking his tongue and looking away, “fine.”

“yay!”

you let out a chuckle at the memory and are interrupted by the door opening. the servant at the door is heavily panting as he speaks, “the l—lord demands to begin the ceremony right now.”

one of the maids looks at him incredulously, “what?! we still have much to prefer like the pathway to his highness and the food!”

the servant nods in understanding, “I know I swear,” he gulps, “but he is getting real impatient and has expressed the need to see her highness more than once.”

you roll your eyes and stand up, “well, tell him that we will be on our way.”

the main maid gasps, “but my lady—”

“don’t fret,” you smile, “if he asks about the unfinished tasks and preparations, I will tell him that you were working on it, but his insistence on speeding things up halted you from your duty, understood?”

they all nod hesitantly. you clap your hand and grin, “well then, lets go! I am excited to see my dear future husband.”

the maids smile nervously, still trying to come to terms with your marriage to sukuna. staying by his side as his lover is one thing, but to officially be declared his wife?

they have come to the conclusion that either you are as crazy as him underneath or you simply managed to tame him—to an extent at least.

you finally exit your room, and as you walk down the hallways, servants clear the way for you, bowing their heads as they offer you their blessings.

you look around the halls, finding them decorated with flowers already, so they are probably talking about the path in the main room.

the flowers are all of your choice, and it fills you with a sense of joy that each one that you pointed out on your outings with sukuna has been placed meticulously in the arrangement that litter the halls.

you slow down your pace, partially to soak in the view a bit more and partially to tease sukuna who is probably waiting with the last smidge of patience he can manage.

sukuna, who is sat on his throne, hand on his knee as he tapped it in waiting. he knows what you’re doing. you have always tried to test just how much you can get away with, which is admittedly a lot at this point.

for example, the first time you did something that he considered audacious is when you were strolling the gardens when you first came to the palace.

you were faced with sukuna who was stood in the place where you usually lounged.

it irked you cause he had the entire garden but chose the most secluded spot—which was usually where you sat so the servants can forget about doing any chores.

you frowned, “that is my spot.”

he quirked an eyebrow but didn’t look back at you. he let out a chuckle, “and this entire palace is mine.”

“nice try,” you quipped, “but I know the palace belongs to sukuna, the king of curses.”

at that, he turned to look at you. he leaned back against the tree, arms crossed and a cold stare on his face, “and who do you think I am, human?”

“oh—shit, okay,” you spluttered, “so you’re sukuna? you look more handsome than I thought.”

a smirked plays at the corner of his lips.

he didn’t reply to you, and you—rightfully—thought that you have dug your own grave. you started to shift your footing from your tip toes to your heel, and you looked away.

he stood up, an amused smile on his face, and he passed you, “I am expecting more from you, so don’t disappoint me.”

you tilted your head, watching his retreating figure. he had left one last comment, “but the next time I see you, I expect you to kneel at my presence.”

that was the moment that sukuna started wanting to see more of you, to see how far you could go. it was a new thing to amuse himself with, so it was more than welcome.

he just doesn’t know when it started being the other way around, because you, in fact, did not kneel.

instead, you started treating him like someone who you genuinely enjoyed their company, and it threw him off slightly; however, that is one of the reasons why he is currently waiting for you, his bride to appear.

the door finally opens, and it reveals you.

sukuna’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at how the kimono fit you exactly how he thought, how your make up was simply perfect, nor how the smile on your lips exuded both happiness and mischief.

what sukuna feels instead is booming pride.

you were always his, since the moment you entered the palace, before he even laid eyes on you. but this silly tradition simply solidifies it even more in the eyes of the others.

he smirks as you finally stand in front of him. you can barely contain your grin, “hello, future husband.”

he didn’t think that a tie to him would ever make somebody so joyed. he smirks at you, patting his lap, “you should know by now that I know you best, you silly woman.”

instantly, your expression falls, and you retort, “way to ruin the mood, king.”

amusement glints in his eyes, and he pulls you close to him, “don’t you ever get tired of giving me attitude? you ought to learn your place.”

“is it not by your side, my lord?” you hum, and he chuckles, content when you finally settle on his lap.

“damn audacious woman,” he looks up at the servants that fill the room.

they are all bowing, some trembling, others alienly still. then there is you who is swinging her feet as she sits on the lap of the king of curses.

he lets out a small breath then speaks loudly, “get the rings.”

in a moment, a servant comes in, carrying a cushion where two golden rings lay. your eyes widen at the sheer amount of patterns of gems on one of the rings.

the servant kneels in front of you two, and sukuna takes the ring decorated with gems in one hand and your hand in another. it slips perfectly onto your finger, and you raise your hand.

you feel your jaw slack a bit at how intricately made it is. and upon closer inspection, you see that one of the patterns is actually sukuna’s name.

you look up at him, and he is already looking at you with a small smirk and a confident look, “you should see the look on your face,” he muses.

he takes your hand into his and raises it slightly.

he examines it quietly before letting go. you blink confused but shrug the thought of your mind. you hold his hand in yours gently, and you put the ring on him.

his ring, contrary to yours, is a lot minimal. it’s a simple golden band, but what surprises you is that your name is etched on the surface.

“sukuna, my name…?”

he looks at the ring on his finger and flexes his hand. he looks at you simply says, “figured you would like something like this.”

you smile widely and giggle, “you know, people usually carve the name of the inside.”

“and I am not usual, am I?”

you nod gently and lean against his chest, “no, you’re not.”

you honestly didn’t know what to expect from a wedding ceremony in the ryomen sukuna “style”. however, sukuna was set on…standing out and making it a memorable event.

the room was flooded with servants carrying trays upon trays of food—all which you have noticed were your favorite—and dancers that put one of the most fascinating shows you’ve seen.

you gape at how they make their moves so effortless, which you can see through just how much practice was put into it.

you look at sukuna, and you seem him smirking down at you, clearly proud of the reaction the show has gotten out of you.

“how—how long have you been preparing for this?” you ask the man.

he glances at the dancers then replies, “6 months; I needed it to be perfect, and these humans take so long to learn things.”

“also, I know that the show I organized is great—“ he says before holding your chin and making you face him, “but that enamoured face should be directed at none other than me, got it?”

you nod frantically, not out of fear, but he is staring directly into your eyes in a way that simply is far too intense. he releases your chin, humming in satisfaction.

the dance finally comes to a close, and everybody in the room bows down to the both of you.

uraume speaks up from beside you—when did they get there—head held down humbly, “it is time for you to exchange vows, my lord and m’lady.”

vows? sukuna prepared vows?

tilting your head in confusion, you look at sukuna, and he is already looking at you. he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t prepare anything, brat; don’t get ahead of yourself.”

okay, that tracks. you give him a thumbs up.

but he is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I have no need for that; all that you need to is that,” he leans closer to you, "you are mine, entirely and without exception, in every breath you take,” he spoke lowly against your lips, “I won’t let you forget that.”

he lets out a breath of amusement at the way your eyes widen and the glimmer behind them. he wastes no time in locking his lips with you, sealing your contract for life.

—

“wooo! I am married!” you say drunkenly, giggling and swaying slightly beside your now husband.

you whip your head back at him, almost falling in the process but his hand easily steadies you, “sukuna, I am married!”

“I know,” he replies, eyeing the empty cup that was full of sake. he hums, “uraume, what was the intensity in the sake?”

they both glance at you, standing on top of a table, babbling a kind of song about your marriage and being a queen now.

you nearly trip on the covers, but sukuna nods for uraume to stop your fall. they hold you up with one hand, maintaining a safe distance, so sukuna doesn’t get protective.

“high, my lord.”

you keep giggling and squealing, and he sighs, “certainly looks like it.”

he rests his chin on his palm, watching your figure run around and keeping an eye for you. however, in the corner of his eyes, he spots a couple of men staring at you, eyes full-blown and open.

it irks him that even after that display, they still dare to look at what belongs to him.

with minimal effort, he flicks his finger, and their heads go flying to the corner of the room. some of the blood splatters onto the floor, but he pays it no mind.

“ooo, red wine!”

“don’t you dare drink that, you stupid woman!”

after a while you find yourself laid down on the bed, head dazed as you try to make sense of your surroundings. you can hear a door closing, and some heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.

finally, your husband comes into view with his arms crossed. you pull on his sleeve gently, “what about the after-party?”

he sits down beside you, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap. he allows it but grunts in response, “after-party with you all delirious like this?”

“I am fine!” you protest, huffing and giving him the most intimidating glare you can muster.

he simply flicks your forehead, and you yelp, shielding your face away from him, “you’re so rude!”

“pretty sure, you aren’t supposed to reply your king and husband like that,” he states. he squishes your face with one hand and quirks an eyebrow, “you’re testing your limits.”

“I don’t care!”

“oh?”

you note the change of tone almost instantly, and it is enough to sober you up.

you look up, wide-eyed at him, and on his face is a devious smirk, and behind his eyes are thoughts that are probably going to be the end of you tonight.

he leans down slightly, “I have a different kind of after-party in mind,” one of his hands trails to hold your wrist, “which I think you will quite like,” you try resisting for even a second, but you’re no match for him, “starting now.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will put you on gege's list

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[luvyeni]

YOU CATCHING THE BOUQUET 𖹭 스트레이키즈 ( reaction ) !

genre fluff 𖹭 warning nothing pairing — OT8 x fem reader | back to library .

— stray kids reaction to when you catch the bouquet at a wedding ...

request. skz! Reaction when ur at a wedding and u catch the bouquet? saw someone do it with enhypen and I was immediately intrigued.

𐙚 : BANGCHAN ֶָ֢ !

He watched you catch it, the bride telling you to get ready for your wedding; his entire neck up to his ears turning red, smiling down at the ground shyly ( I love his shy smile ). the entire night he's thinking about it, how his married life would be with you, and it all seemed perfect in his head. he probably will bring it up a few days later casually, both of you just sitting on the couch when he turns to you. "what do you think about getting married?"

𐙚 : LEE KNOW ֶָ֢ !

smirking ; he just wants to tease you. "you practically threw that girl to the ground to get them." he tapped your pouty lips. "hey." you tried to defend yourself. "you tryna tell me something?" he knows that getting married is not on your list for right now , but you do want to get married. "you finally ready?" he said dancing with you. " maybe in a few more years , not now." he nodded , he's ready whenever you are.

𐙚 : CHANGBIN ֶָ֢ !

oh so you want to get married? cause he's sure the man who officiated the current bride and grooms wedding was still around; if he paid good money he'd do it, changbin just needs your word and he'll leave this wedding right now and go get a ring, that's how serious he is about this shit, you have to take his hands into yours to calm him down. "so when are we doing this, just give me the word?" he's already calculating the prices in his head for your honeymoon. "definitely not today so calm down baby."

𐙚 : HYUNJIN ֶָ֢ !

all our lover boy hears is wedding bells the moment the flowers touch your hands , he can picture the wedding. you don't even notice it , someone points it out. "you might want to go tell lover boy over there he's in public and everyone can see him sketching out your wedding plans on that name card." you turn to find your man in his own world writing down something , you smile, walking over to him. "what you writing?" "our future vows." you furrowed your eye brows. "hyune." you slapped his shoulders. "do you really want to get married?" you asked. "of course." he said. "even if it's in 5 years , it's you I want to marry."

𐙚 : HAN JISUNG ֶָ֢ !

he didn't know what happened; until people started coming to him saying "get ready" or "good luck" — poor jisung was so confused; until he saw you holding the bouquet of flowers in your hand while you talked to friends. every single question went through his head. 'does she want to get married?' 'is this a sign' he didn't even know if he should bring it up; you saw him standing there in his head , and you went up to him, kissing his lips. "don't think too hard into it love , we're not getting married anytime soon."

𐙚 : FELIX ֶָ֢ !

whether you agree with it or not; felix reminds me of the type to propose at someone else's wedding— but this isn't about that. seeing you excitedly catch the flowers, looking at him with a smile, he took that as 'yup she wants to get married' so when he gets you alone , he pops the question; yes the question. "marry me." he said. "Huh?" You asked. "Not now of course, but soon; marry me." you didn't want to cry to take away attention from the bride. "o-okay." You kissed him. "let's get married." i said he was the type to ask at a wedding, not that he'd take away attention from the bride and groom, you'd announce it weeks after the wedding.

𐙚 : SEUNGMIN ֶָ֢ !

you've ever seen a video of him just freezing up all confused mouth hung open, that's it; for the first time in his life he was shocked. "aren't we supposed to get married now?" You teased him, handing him the bouquet. "where's my ring pup?" he quickly snapped back into reality, his friends slapping his shoulders teasingly. "please , I'm not that stupid, she doesn't want to get married yet." he's still gonna ask you about it, he doesn't want you to think he's over looking it. "when are you gonna force me to marry you?" he says trying to be cool. "who says i want to marry you." you teased back, both of you ending up just smiling at each other. "who else would I marry?" "your right who else would you marry?" you know it won't be anytime soon , but you know you won't be marrying anyone else.

𐙚 : JEONGIN ֶָ֢ !

another confused one; like you were eager as hell to catch those damn flowers , were you ready to get married? you both were so young and he loved you and with time he wouldn't mind talking about it with you, but right now he wasn't ready. he genuinely wanted to ask you, so he waited until you got home , subtly bringing up the topic. "you don't want to get married yet?" he would ask. "what?" "married , earlier you were so happy about catching the flowers." you smirked. "Do you not want to marry me?" he began to trip over his words, making you laugh. "innie please." You calmed him down. "of course I want to get married , but not now , we're so young." he sighed. "You were so happy." "because the girl in front of me kept pushing me out the way, I was happy i got it, the look on her face still makes me smile."

©️LUVYENI

[pucksandpower]

Moments of Glory

Oscar Piastri x Brown!Reader

Summary: notoriously calm and collected Oscar meets his match in the outgoing and extroverted daughter of his boss

Note: this is not the maiden win any of us wanted for Oscar but that doesn’t make it any less deserved — McLaren’s ability to jumble strategy should not take away from his amazing drive

The McLaren Technology Centre hums with energy as Oscar steps through the sliding glass doors, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s his first visit since signing with the team, and the gravity of the moment isn’t lost on him. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

As he walks further into the lobby, a burst of laughter catches his attention. Oscar turns to see a group of people gathered near the reception desk, centered around a vivacious young woman with a contagious smile. Your presence seems to light up the entire room.

“And then I told him, ‘Dad, if you don’t make some cuter merch, I’m going to have to support a different team!’” You exclaim, causing another round of laughter from the group.

Oscar finds himself drawn towards the commotion, his feet moving of their own accord. As he approaches, you notice him and your eyes lock. For a moment, the world seems to stand still.

“Well, hello there, stranger!” You call out, breaking the spell. “You must be our new golden boy. I’m Y/N Brown, resident troublemaker and daughter of the big boss.”

Oscar feels his cheeks flush as he stammers, “H-Hi, I’m Oscar. Oscar Piastri.”

You grin, stepping closer. “I know who you are, silly. I’ve been watching your career for years. Welcome to the family!”

Before Oscar can respond, you’ve wrapped him in a warm hug. He stiffens for a moment, unused to such casual physical contact, but then relaxes into the embrace.

As you pull away, you wink at him. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

Oscar’s eyes widen, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “I, uh ... I don’t ...”

You laugh, patting his shoulder. “Relax, I’m just teasing. Come on, let me show you around. I bet I know this place better than any of the official tour guides.”

As you lead Oscar through the facility, he finds himself captivated by your energy and enthusiasm. You point out various areas of interest, peppering your tour with amusing anecdotes and insider information.

“And this,” you say, gesturing dramatically to a seemingly ordinary hallway, “is where Lando once tried to skateboard down the stairs. Spoiler alert: it didn’t end well.”

Oscar chuckles, finding himself more at ease. “I can’t imagine that went over well with management.”

You lean in conspiratorially. “Oh, Dad was furious. But between you and me, I think he was more upset that Lando didn’t invite him to join in.”

As you continue the tour, Oscar finds himself opening up more. “So, how long have you been involved with McLaren?” He asks.

You grin, twirling around to face him as you walk backward. “Oh, pretty much since Dad got hired to run it back in 2016. But I’ve been working here officially for about two years now, in PR and social media.”

Oscar nods, impressed. “That must be exciting, being so close to the action.”

“It has its moments,” you agree. “But enough about me. Tell me, Oscar Piastri, what makes you tick? What drives you to risk life and limb hurtling around tracks at breakneck speeds?”

Oscar pauses, considering his words carefully. “I guess ... it’s the thrill of pushing myself to the limit. The constant challenge of improving, of finding that extra tenth of a second. And the teamwork aspect, knowing that every person plays a crucial role in our success.”

You smile softly, a hint of admiration in your eyes. “That’s beautiful, Oscar. I can see why Dad was so keen on signing you.”

As you reach the simulator room, Oscar’s eyes light up with excitement. You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“Want to give it a go?” You ask, gesturing towards the state-of-the-art equipment.

Oscar nods eagerly. “Can I? I mean, I don’t want to overstep ...”

You wave off his concerns. “Please, you’re part of the team now. Besides, I want to see what you can do.”

As Oscar settles into the simulator, you lean against the doorframe, watching him with interest. He takes a deep breath, centering himself before starting the virtual lap.

You observe silently, impressed by his focus and skill. As he completes the lap, you let out a low whistle. “Not bad, Piastri. Not bad at all.”

Oscar grins, a hint of pride in his expression. “Thanks. It feels good to get a feel for the car, even if it’s just a simulation.”

You step closer, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Want to make it interesting? I bet I can beat your time.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, a hint of competitiveness creeping into his voice. “Oh really? You’re on.”

For the next hour, you and Oscar take turns in the simulator, trading friendly jabs and encouragement. To Oscar’s surprise, you prove to be a formidable opponent, matching him lap for lap.

As you finish your final run, you jump up with a whoop of victory. “Ha! Beat you by two-tenths!”

Oscar shakes his head, laughing. “I can’t believe it. Where did you learn to drive like that?”

You shrug, a hint of vulnerability showing through your confident exterior. “Growing up around racing, I guess. But I never had the nerve to pursue it professionally. Too much pressure.”

Oscar nods understandingly. “I can’t blame you. It’s not an easy path.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, broken only by the hum of the equipment. Oscar finds himself studying your face, noticing the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and how animated you become when talking about something you love.

You catch him staring and smirk. “See something you like, Piastri?”

Oscar blushes furiously, stammering, “I, uh ... I was just ... you’re really ...”

You laugh, but there’s a softness to it. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Oscar takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. “Listen, Y/N ... I know we just met, but I was wondering if maybe ... I mean, if you’re not busy ... would you like to ...”

Before he can finish, an alarm on your phone goes off. You check it and grimace. “Shoot, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. Rain check on whatever you were about to say?”

Oscar nods, trying to hide his disappointment. “Yeah, of course. No problem.”

You start to leave but pause at the doorway. Turning back, you say, “Hey, Oscar? For what it’s worth, I hope you were about to ask me out. Because I’d say yes.”

With a wink and a wave, you’re gone, leaving Oscar standing in the simulator room, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling in his stomach. He takes a deep breath, a smile spreading across his face as he realizes that his journey with McLaren might be even more exciting than he initially thought.

***

The hot Qatar air shimmers around Oscar as he stands before the camera, sweat glistening on his brow. His race suit clings to his body, still damp from the grueling sprint race he’s just won. The interviewer leans in with her microphone.

“Oscar, what an incredible performance today! How does it feel to secure your first sprint victory in Formula 1?”

Oscar’s eyes shine with a mix of exhaustion and elation. “It’s ... it’s honestly surreal,” he says, his voice slightly breathless. “The team did an amazing job with the car, and everything just clicked out there. I can’t quite believe it yet.”

The interviewer nods encouragingly. “You showed remarkable pace throughout the race. Was there any point where you felt particularly challenged?”

Oscar opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say a word, a blur of motion catches his peripheral vision. Suddenly, you crash into him at full speed, nearly knocking both of you off balance.

“You did it! You actually did it!” You squeal, throwing your arms around Oscar’s neck and peppering his sweaty face with kisses.

Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, his cheeks flushing a deep red that has nothing to do with the desert heat. “Y/N! What are you-”

But you’re not listening. You’re too busy showering him with affection, right there in front of the rolling cameras and the stunned interviewer. “I’m so proud of you, you beautiful, talented man!” You exclaim between kisses.

The interviewer clears her throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I ... um, it seems we have an unexpected guest. Miss, could you perhaps-”

You turn to face the camera, your arm still draped around Oscar’s shoulders. “Oh, don’t mind me! I’m just here to celebrate with the star of the show.” You plant another kiss on Oscar’s cheek for emphasis.

Oscar, for his part, looks like he’s torn between embarrassment and delight. He awkwardly pats your back, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “I’m sorry about this,” he says to the interviewer. “This is Y/N, she’s ... well, she’s ...”

“I’m his girlfriend,” you announce proudly, beaming at the camera. “And the daughter of the CEO, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that this guy” — you ruffle Oscar’s hair — “just drove the race of his life!”

The interviewer, recovering from her initial shock, decides to roll with the unexpected turn of events. “Well, Y/N, since you’re here, what did you think of Oscar’s performance today?”

You launch into an enthusiastic analysis, gesticulating wildly. “It was absolutely brilliant! The way he managed those tires in the closing laps, fending off Verstappen ... I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!”

Oscar watches you with a mixture of amusement and affection. When you pause for breath, he gently interjects, “I think you might be a bit biased, love.”

You turn to him, eyes sparkling. “Biased? Me? Never! I’ll have you know I’m a highly objective observer of the sport.”

The interviewer, sensing an opportunity for a more personal angle, asks, “Oscar, how does it feel to have such passionate support from your girlfriend?”

Oscar’s expression softens as he looks at you. “It’s ... it’s incredible, honestly. Y/N’s been my biggest cheerleader since day one. Even on the tough days, she always believes in me.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, momentarily subdued by the sincerity in his voice. “That’s because I know how amazing you are, even when you don’t see it yourself.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly charmed by the display. “It’s wonderful to see such support. Y/N, did you have any doubts during the race?”

You straighten up, your energy returning full force. “Doubts? About Oscar? Never! Although,” you add with a mischievous grin, “I did consider commandeering a golf cart and driving onto the track myself when Verstappen started closing that gap in the final laps.”

Oscar chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m glad you restrained yourself. I don’t think that would’ve gone over well with the stewards.”

“Oh please,” you scoff playfully. “I would’ve told them I was delivering a vital message about tire strategy. They would’ve believed me.”

The interviewer laughs along with you. “I have to say, this is one of the most entertaining post-race interviews I’ve ever conducted. Oscar, how do you keep up with such a vibrant personality?”

Oscar grins, his earlier embarrassment fading. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out. Y/N keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You beam at him, then stage-whisper to the interviewer, “He loves it, really. I add much-needed excitement to his life.”

“As if driving a Formula 1 car at over 300 kilometers per hour isn’t exciting enough,” Oscar retorts good-naturedly.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Details, details. Now, are we done here? Because I have plans for celebrating this victory, and they involve a lot less talking and a lot more-”

Oscar quickly cuts you off, his cheeks reddening again. “And on that note, I think we should wrap this up. Thank you for the interview,” he says to the journalist, who’s trying hard to stifle her laughter.

As Oscar begins to lead you away, the interviewer calls out one last question. “Oscar, any final words for your fans watching at home?”

Oscar pauses, considering for a moment. “Just ... thank you for all the support. It means the world to me. And to the team, of course. We couldn’t do this without you all.”

You can’t resist adding your own message. “And remember, kids: if you work hard and believe in yourself, one day you too could have an incredibly attractive partner tackling you with kisses on live television!”

With that, you pull Oscar away from the cameras, both of you laughing as you disappear into the paddock.

Once you’re out of sight of the media, Oscar turns to you, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “I can’t believe you did that,” he says, shaking his head.

You grin unrepentantly. “Oh come on, it was fun! And admit it, you loved it.”

Oscar tries to maintain a stern face, but his lips twitch upwards. “It was certainly ... unexpected.”

“Unexpected is my middle name,” you declare proudly.

“I thought your middle name was Trouble,” Oscar quips.

You gasp in mock offense. “Oscar Piastri, are you sassing me? I’ll have you know that Trouble is my first name. Y/N is just a cover.”

Oscar laughs, pulling you close despite the sweat still clinging to his race suit. “Well, Trouble, what do you say we get out of here and start that celebration you were talking about?”

Your eyes light up. “Now you’re talking! But first ...” You lean in, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I believe I was interrupted earlier when I was showering the race winner with well-deserved affection.”

Oscar’s breath catches as you close the distance between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that’s far more heated than the ones shared on camera. When you finally pull apart, you’re both a little breathless.

“Wow,” Oscar murmurs. “If that’s how you react to a sprint win, I can’t wait to see what happens when I win a Grand Prix.”

You wink at him. “Keep driving like that, and you’ll find out soon enough. Now come on, hero. Let’s go find somewhere more private before my dad shows up and ruins all our fun.”

As if on cue, Zak’s voice echoes down the paddock. “Oscar! There you are! Hell of a drive out there, kid!”

You groan dramatically. “Speak of the devil. Quick, hide me in your helmet!”

Oscar chuckles, keeping an arm around your waist as Zak approaches. “I don’t think you’d fit, babe. Besides, I’m pretty sure he already knows you’re here. The whole world probably knows after that interview.”

You shrug, unabashed. “What can I say? When I’m proud of my man, I want everyone to know it.”

Zak reaches you, clapping Oscar on the shoulder. “That was some fantastic racing out there, Oscar. You should be proud.”

Oscar nods, a shy smile on his face. “Thank you. The car felt great, and the team’s strategy was spot on.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Always so modest. Dad, tell him how amazing he was!”

Zak laughs. “I think you’ve done enough of that for all of us, sweetheart. I saw that interview, by the way. Quite a show you two put on.”

You bat your eyelashes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was merely congratulating our star driver on his well-deserved victory.”

“Uh-huh,” Zak says, clearly not buying it. “Well, try to keep the congratulations a bit more PG in the future, alright? We do have sponsors to think about.”

Oscar looks mortified, but you just grin. “No promises. But I’ll try to restrain myself to just one tackle per race weekend.”

Zak shakes his head, a mixture of exasperation and fondness on his face. “What am I going to do with you two? Oscar, I hope you know what you’ve signed up for with this one.”

Oscar glances at you, his expression softening. “I think I have a pretty good idea. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You feel your heart swell at his words. “Aww, babe. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. Well, second sweetest. The sweetest was when you told me my driving in the simulator was ‘not bad.’”

Oscar groans. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope!” you say cheerfully. “I plan to remind you of it at least once a week for the rest of our lives.”

Zak watches your banter with amusement. “Alright, you two. Oscar, the team wants to debrief before you head out. Y/N, try not to cause any international incidents while I’m gone, okay?”

You salute dramatically. “Yes, sir, Team Principal, sir! I shall endeavor to be on my very best behavior.”

As Zak walks away, shaking his head and muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “God help us all,” you turn back to Oscar.

“So, hotshot,” you say, running a finger down his chest. “How long do you think this debrief will take? Because I have some very important plans that involve you, me, and a bottle of champagne I may or may not have ‘borrowed’ from the hospitality area.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Borrowed, huh? You know, as a representative of the team, I should probably discourage such behavior.”

You lean in close, your lips barely brushing his ear. “And as my boyfriend, what do you think?”

Oscar’s arms tighten around you. “I think,” he murmurs, “that I’m the luckiest guy in the world. And that I’ll try to make this the quickest debrief in F1 history.”

You pull back with a triumphant grin. “That’s what I like to hear. Now go, be brilliant, and hurry back to me. I’ll be waiting.”

As Oscar jogs off towards the team garage, you watch him go with a soft smile. Your eyes linger on the PIASTRI emblazoned across his back, and you feel a surge of pride and affection.

“That’s my guy,” you murmur to yourself. “My brilliant, amazing, race-winning guy.”

And as you head off to prepare for your celebration, you can’t help but think that while Oscar might have won the sprint race today, you’re the one who truly hit the jackpot.

***

The Hungaroring erupts in cheers as Oscar crosses the finish line, securing his maiden Grand Prix victory. The McLaren garage explodes with jubilation, team members hugging each other and pumping their fists in the air.

As Oscar completes his cool-down lap, his voice crackles over the team radio, breathless with excitement. “We did it! We actually did it! Thank you, thank you to everyone. I can’t believe it!”

His race engineer responds, emotion evident in his voice. “Fantastic job, Oscar. You drove brilliantly. Enjoy this moment, mate. You’ve earned it.”

Meanwhile, in the paddock, you’re practically vibrating with excitement. You’ve been pacing back and forth, unable to contain your energy as you watched the final laps unfold on the screens. As soon as Oscar crosses the line, you sprint towards parc fermé, determined to be there when he gets out of the car.

You weave through the crowd, your McLaren bomber jacket with Oscar’s number emblazoned across the back drawing curious glances. As you reach the barriers, you see Oscar’s car pull up, the Australian already unclipping his helmet.

“Oscar!” You shout, waving frantically. “Over here!”

Oscar’s eyes scan the crowd, lighting up when he spots you. He clambers out of the car, his legs a bit shaky from the adrenaline and physical exertion. As he makes his way towards you, his gaze locks onto the jacket you’re wearing, and his steps falter.

You notice his reaction and grin mischievously, doing a little twirl to show off the jacket. “Like what you see, champ?”

Oscar’s eyes are wide, his mouth slightly agape. “That’s ... wow. Is that my number?”

You nod, beaming. “Sure is. Thought I’d support my favorite driver in style. Although,” you add with a wink, “I have to say, it will look much better on the ground next to your bed.”

Oscar’s face flushes red, and he glances around nervously. “Y/N! We’re in public!”

You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his sweat-damp hair. “Oh, relax. Everyone’s too busy celebrating your win to pay attention to us. Speaking of which ...” You grab the front of his race suit and pull him close, planting a passionate kiss on his lips.

When you finally break apart, Oscar looks dazed but happy. “I could get used to that kind of celebration,” he murmurs.

“Well, keep winning races like that, and you’ll have plenty more where that came from,” you tease. “Now go, do your podium thing. I’ll be waiting to continue this ... discussion ... later.”

As Oscar heads off for the podium ceremony, you turn to make your way back to the paddock. That’s when you spot Lando chatting with some engineers. Your eyes narrow as you remember how a McLaren strategy mistake had allowed Lando to undercut Oscar, nearly costing him the win. Even though it wasn’t really Lando’s fault, you can’t help feeling annoyed at him.

You’re about to march over and give Lando a piece of your mind when you spot something that makes you pause — Fernando Alonso’s unattended scooter, parked just a few feet away. A mischievous grin spreads across your face as an idea forms.

Glancing around to make sure no one’s watching, you casually stroll over to the scooter and hop on. You rev the engine, drawing Lando’s attention.

“Hey, Y/N!” Lando calls out, waving. “Congrats on Oscar’s win! Some race, huh?”

You smile sweetly, maneuvering the scooter towards him. “Oh, it sure was, Lando. Especially that bit where you refused to give the lead back to Oscar until the last minute. That was ... interesting.”

Lando’s smile falters slightly. “Come on. You know it wasn’t my fault. The team made the strategy call.”

“Oh, I know,” you say, inching the scooter closer. “I just thought I’d give you a little reminder about team spirit and timeliness.”

Before Lando can react, you accelerate the scooter, aiming straight for his foot. There’s a yelp of pain as the wheel rolls over Lando’s toes, followed by a string of colorful expletives.

“Oops!” You exclaim with faux innocence. “So sorry, Lando. These things are just so hard to control, you know?”

Lando hops on one foot, glaring at you. “What the hell? That bloody hurt!”

You shrug, still perched on the scooter. “Funny, that’s probably how Oscar felt when you wouldn’t let him by. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

As Lando opens his mouth to retort, a stern voice cuts through the air. “Y/N Brown! What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

You wince, recognizing your father’s voice. Zak strides towards you, his expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

“Hi, Dad,” you say sheepishly. “I was just ... congratulating Lando on his race?”

Zak pinches the bridge of his nose. “By running over his foot with Alonso’s scooter? Jesus, Y/N. I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

You hop off the scooter, trying your best to look contrite. “In my defense, it was a very gentle running over. Barely a love tap, really.”

Lando snorts, still rubbing his foot. “Love tap my arse. I think you broke my toe!”

Zak sighs heavily. “Lando, go get that checked out by the medics. Y/N, you’re coming with me. We need to have a serious talk about appropriate behavior in the paddock.”

As your father leads you away, you can’t help but call back over your shoulder, “Hey Lando! Next time, maybe think about giving the position back sooner, yeah?”

Zak groans. “Y/N, please. You know Lando was put in a tough spot. You’re not helping your case here.”

You follow your father to a quiet corner of the McLaren garage, trying to suppress your grin. Despite the impending lecture, you can’t bring yourself to regret your actions. Nobody messes with your Oscar and gets away with it.

Zak turns to face you, his expression serious. “Y/N, I know you’re excited about Oscar’s win, and believe me, I am too. But you can’t go around assaulting our drivers, even if it’s just with a scooter.”

You nod, attempting to look suitably chastised. “I know. I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

Zak raises an eyebrow. “Why do I have a hard time believing that?”

Before you can respond, there’s a commotion at the garage entrance. Oscar bursts in, his face flushed with excitement.

“Y/N!” He calls out, spotting you. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

You turn to him, your face lighting up. “Oscar! Congrats, babe! I know I already said it, but you were amazing out there!”

Oscar sweeps you up in a hug, spinning you around. As he sets you down, his eyes once again lock onto your jacket. “God, you look incredible in that,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You smirk, running a hand down his chest. “Oh yeah? Maybe I should wear it more often then.”

Zak clears his throat loudly, reminding you both of his presence. “While I’m thrilled about the win, could you two maybe tone down the PDA a notch? We are still in a professional environment.”

Oscar steps back, looking sheepish. “Sorry. I got a bit carried away.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, come on, Dad. Let the man celebrate! It’s his first win, after all.”

Zak sighs, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Fine, fine. But try to keep it family-friendly, alright? And Y/N, we’re not done talking about the scooter incident.”

Oscar looks between you and your father, confusion evident on his face. “Scooter incident?”

You wave a dismissive hand. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little misunderstanding with Lando. Nothing to worry about.”

Oscar’s brow furrows. “What kind of misunderstanding involves a scooter?”

Before you can answer, Lando limps into the garage, his foot wrapped in a bandage. “The kind where your girlfriend tries to maim me, apparently,” he grumbles.

Oscar’s eyes widen. “Y/N, you didn’t ...”

You shrug, trying to look innocent. “It was an accident! Besides, he had it coming after that stunt he pulled during the race.”

Oscar runs a hand through his hair, looking exasperated but also slightly amused. “Y/N, you can’t just go around running people over because you’re unhappy with their racing.”

“Watch me,” you mutter under your breath.

Zak throws his hands up in defeat. “I give up. Oscar, congratulations again on the win. Y/N, try not to cause any more chaos for at least the next hour, okay? I need to go do damage control with the press.”

As your father walks away, Oscar turns to you, his expression a mix of fondness and exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?”

You grin, stepping closer to him. “I have a few ideas. Most of them involve you, me, and licking champagne off each other’s skin.”

Oscar’s breath hitches, his eyes darkening. “Y/N,” he warns, but there’s no real heat in his voice.

You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “What do you say we get out of here, champ? I think it’s time for your real celebration.”

Oscar doesn’t need to be told twice. He grabs your hand, leading you towards the exit. As you pass Lando, you call out, “No hard feelings, right, Lando? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before playing dirty on track.”

Lando rolls his eyes but can’t help cracking a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just keep her on a leash, will you, Oscar?”

Oscar chuckles. “I don’t think anyone could keep Y/N on a leash if they tried.”

As you leave the garage, the sounds of celebration still echoing through the paddock, you can’t help but feel on top of the world. Oscar’s first win, your successful (if slightly unorthodox) defense of his honor, and the promise of a private celebration to come — it’s been a perfect day.

You squeeze Oscar’s hand, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “So, hero, ready to show me just how much you like this jacket?”

Oscar grins, pulling you closer. “More than ready. But maybe we should wait until we’re somewhere more private. I don’t fancy giving the entire paddock a show.”

You laugh, the sound bright and carefree. “Spoilsport. But fine, I suppose I can be patient. For now.”

As you walk hand in hand towards the team motorhome, you can’t help but think that while Oscar may have won the race today, you’re both winners in the game of love. And that’s the best victory of all.

[steddieas-shegoes]

pop goes metal

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'alternate universe'

rated t | 964 words | cw: language | tags: famous corroded coffin, pop star steve harrington, flirting, getting together

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

"No fuckin' way are we working with him," Eddie argues with their manager. "You're always so worried about our image and then you go and have us doing a song with a fuckin' pop artist?"

The manager, Anthony, rolls his eyes. "It'll broaden your fanbase. You know who spends money on shit? Women. You know who likes Steve Harrington? Women."

"Does he even write his own shit?" Gareth asks.

"Does it matter?" Eddie turned to him with a glare. "Even if he writes it, it's not our style."

"Maybe we could at least hear what he's trying to work with us on?" Jeff, always the calming presence, asked towards Anthony.

"He sent over a sample before we sign any agreements."

Eddie sat down in the chair furthest from everyone else, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Now, this isn't an official recording. Just what he did on his phone on his tour bus with his acoustic guitar. He arranged the bass already for Frankie, too, but said he's open to whatever Gareth feels is right for the drums." Anthony pressed play on his phone and the room was filled with strumming and a surprisingly raspy voice singing what was clearly a chorus.

Eddie could pretend he hated it, and maybe the guys would agree with him and they'd never have to speak of this again.

He couldn't hide his reaction fast enough, though.

His jaw dropped as he listened to the lyrics, surprised to find that they weren't just about going to a club and dancing or being in love.

Steve's voice broke at the end before there was shuffling and the recording stopped.

Eddie felt everyone's eyes on him. He closed his mouth and looked down at the floor, tapping his fingers against his arm.

"It's not bad," he finally said. "Not sure why he needs us, though."

"Apparently, his brother is a huge fan of you and suggested he try to work with you."

"I think we should do it." Jeff said, a note of finality in his tone that Eddie knew he wouldn't try arguing with.

"Yeah, can't hurt." Frankie shrugged.

"If he's giving me creative freedom on the drums, how can I say no?" Gareth smirked.

"Guess we're working with the pop diva, then."

****

Steve Harrington was nothing like what they expected.

He showed up to their studio in sweats and glasses, holding a tablet and a bottle of Tylenol. They started to introduce themselves as he found a spot on the couch.

"I'm really glad you guys were willing to work with me," he said after he shook everyone's hand.

Eddie stared.

"My uh, my brother, Dustin, he's kinda why I wrote this song and I know it means a lot that you agreed to be on it," Steve continued. "So, thanks. Hopefully it doesn't ruin your vibes or anything."

Eddie felt every wall he built crumbling with every word Steve spoke. God dammit, this man just had to be sincere and hot and talented, didn't he?

"Nah, we're gonna sound great together." Eddie smiled at Steve's wide-eyed look. "You wanna show us the whole song?"

Steve nodded, pulling something up on his phone. Another recording, this one more professional and included an electric guitar.

"Robin was the stand in for the electric while I did bass."

"So you can play bass?" Frankie asked, leaning in.

"Yeah, but my preferred instrument is piano. I just don't do a lot of slow songs. Guitar is what gets the women interested, or so they tell me," Steve smiled awkwardly. "But feel free to change some things up. I'm totally open to suggestions."

But really, it was damn near perfect as it was. Frankie made one tweak during the bridge, but Steve ended up loving it more than the original and told him so with a grin.

"You're a fuckin' genius!" He exclaimed.

Gareth started messing around on the drums while Steve and Eddie worked on the first couple of lines.

"Something still doesn't feel right," Steve mentioned.

"Maybe we change the rhyming pattern?" Eddie suggested. "You've got ABAB. Might work better to do AABB. Some of these words can be moved around to make that work."

Steve stared at the notes app for a moment, then looked back up at Eddie, beaming smile making his eyes squint.

"I could kiss you!" He shouted. As soon as he realized what he said, he blushed, looking back down at the phone. "I mean, thanks. That's a great suggestion."

Eddie searched Steve's face, coming to the conclusion that there was probably a good reason why Steve didn't care about what women liked when it came to his music.

"I have a pretty strict rule about kissing people I work with," Eddie said slowly, quietly so they wouldn't be overheard.

"Yeah, no, that makes sense. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-"

"But we won't be working with each other for long, right?" Eddie continued, letting his hand rest on Steve's thigh. God, he was muscular.

"Um. No I guess not."

"Rain check, then. Until we've finished our professional relationship." Eddie couldn't believe he was suggesting this. Showing interest in a pop star. What's next? Dating one? Marrying one?

"Are you saying you wanna kiss me, Munson?" Steve suddenly sounded more confident.

"I'm saying we've got work to do before I can get my hands on you." Eddie tapped his thigh before pulling away. "So let's get to it."

"Dude! I got it!" Gareth yelled, interrupting their moment.

"Be right there!" Steve yelled back, not looking away from Eddie. "Might break a record for fastest recording time ever just so I can kiss you," Steve added quietly to Eddie before standing and walking over to Gareth.

"Well, fuck." Eddie sighed, smiling to himself.

[lewisvinga]

his lucky charm | carlos sainz x fem! reader / daughter

summary; even during the most stressful moments of football, carlos needs his good luck charm, his 6 month old daughter, in his arms.

word count; 630

warnings; ? idk pero hala madrid siempreeee

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; [requests are closed] I HAD TO DO THIS😫 i’m weak for madridista carlos and i saw a video of a guy holding his daughter while watching benzema score a penalty and it reminded me of carlos ! but also, el clásico win tdy w bellingol winner tho����🤭🤭

masterlist !

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Carlos, you know you can set her down in her crib, right?” Y/n asked again for the second time in 10 minutes, looking at the sleeping baby in her husband's arms.

“Ahorita no, mi amor.” [not now, my love] Carlos quickly shushed his wife as he kept his eyes on the screen.

Sometime around the second half, he had picked up little Catalina in hopes it would calm down his nerves over the Real Madrid and Manchester City match. However, when the match went into overtime, his nerves just became worse.

He was so nervous that he couldn’t help but rock back and forth which made his daughter fall into a deep slumber in his arms. It made Y/n laugh to herself. She was a fan of the Madrid-based team but not to the extent of Carlos who lives and breathes Real Madrid.

Her father-in-law even made a joke once that the Sainz’s bleed white, the team's official color. Sure, she was nervous because it was a knockout match for the top competition of club football but not nervous to the extent of her husband.

“Carlos, I really think you should put Catalina down before-“

“She’s my good luck charm!” Carlos exclaimed, holding the 6-month-old close to his chest. She even was wearing the white Real Madrid kit his father gifted them when she was born, making her even more of a ‘good luck charm’

Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at her husband's antics. She gets up to go to the kitchen to grab her phone and a bottle of water. When she walked back to the living room, she saw him biting his fingernails and kneeling on the floor instead of sitting on the couch.

“Carlos, what are you…” Her voice trailed off. She wore a confused expression as he held a now awake Catalina in one hand and the other hand kept running through his hair.

“Penalties, mi amor! Penalties!”

Y/n sat back down on the couch and held her phone up so she could record his reactions. They were down to the last penalty, the 5th one. If Real Madrid made it then that means they would pass.

Even Catalina, who doesn’t even understand what is going on, was focused on the screen as #22 for the Madrid-based team took his spot. Y/n noticed her husband holding his breath as the player swung his leg back and kicked the ball. The ball makes it in causing her husband to let out a cheer.

Carlos immediately stands up to his feet and holds Catalina out. “Mi gatita! Ganamos! Vamos a los semifinales!” [my little cat! we won! we’re going to the semifinals!] He loudly exclaimed to his 6 month old daughter who gurgled in reply. “Te dije, Y/n! [i told you] She’s our lucky charm!”

He holds her close and leaves kisses all over her chubby cheeks. Catalina squeals at the sensation of her father's beard scratching her face. She plants her hands on his face as he continues to kiss her, letting out fits of giggles.

Y/n’s heart melted at the interaction between her husband and their daughter. She knew he’d make the best girl dad the moment she found out she was pregnant. She was right, he is the best girl dad.

She couldn’t help but burst out into laughter when she heard Carlos start to sing the anthem of Real Madrid to Catalina who kept gurgling at her father's antics.

Y/n stood recording and quickly uploaded the video of her husband and daughter to Instagram, captioning it ‘a Madridista and his lucky charm🤍 hala madrid!’. She knew people would immediately fawn over their favorite driver cheering to his daughter, but for now, she was just enjoying the show he was giving with his not-so-perfect singing.

[coffeeshopguest]

Hi! Can I request Sebastian from stardew valley during your honeymoon smut? If not, that’s totally fine

-✨🖤✨

ofc you can, I wasn't quite sure where to take it or lead into it, but I honestly really like how it turned out :) hope it was what you wanted :)

Farmer's Honeymoon

Word Count: 1520 Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, smut, smoking, fingering, unprotected sex, swearing, vaginal sex (should be all, lmk if I missed any!) 

The wedding was beautiful, and you'd even convinced Sebastian not to smoke over the entirety of the service - the entire town had made it (which wasn't surprising, considering there was only about 30 people in the entire town). It was beautiful, perfect. Just what you had envisioned. Other than one, small, teeny problem.

It was summer. Sebastian thought that would be the perfect time to get married - and you'd tried to explain it wasn't. One - it would be too warm. But mostly for the second reason that you couldn't leave your farm. When you addressed this to Sebastian he shrugged it off. "We can always take a trip in the winter, I want to marry you in the summer. We can do a mini-honeymoon in town," and that was that. 

And so it was. Sebastian and you were eloped in the town center, and after the celebration, you two headed back off to the farm. Sebastian officially moving in with you. Upon reaching the farm, he slid down onto the porch, staring out at the field. "We - we don't have to stay," you voiced, moving to sit beside him. "We could leave - save up and run away somewhere new and exciting." 

Sebastian laughed, he fished out a cigarette from his jacket pocket, glancing at you, "mind?" he asked as he set it in his mouth.

"Go for it," you answered, he happily lit the cigarette, looking out at the sun dipping in the sky. He thought for a while about your words, perhaps tempted by the offer.

He took a long huff, blew it out, then spoke. "I wanna stay. I know all I used to talk about was leaving but...I don't know. It's home. Shitty, boring, dusty, small - but...home," he thought for a while. "Besides, your farm is here..." he added, he pondered what else to add. Taking along drag, flicking some of the ash down onto the dirt and stomping on it. "It looks pretty, I know I've seen it here or there but...it feels different at night. Calmer."

Your head fell against his shoulder, humming a little. You two sat while he finished his cigarette and then he stood, he gently offered you a hand. "C'mon," he said softly, "Wanna celebrate our marriage," he mumbled it, a small devious look overtaking his face. You raised an eyebrow but took his hand.

"What were you thinking?" 

He tugged your hand, opening the farmhouse door. "What do you think I'm thinking?" he answered, basically dragging you across the house towards the bedroom. Sure, you two had done it a few times before marriage. Okay, a lot. But Sebastian seemed set on this being special. Once he'd reached the bedroom, he lightly guided you to the bed, laying you down on your back. "You want me to?" he whispered, eyes wandering you. Despite still being fully clothed, his gaze made you feel naked. Your head bobbed, words not forming. Sebastian's face fell ever so slightly. "Use your words, c'mon baby," he encouraged, leaning to kiss your lips. "Don't nod, tell me." 

Over the course of your relationship with Sebastian you'd learned a few things. He needed words, confirmation, noise. He climbed onto the bed, slightly on top of you, eyes focused on you. Waiting.

"God...yes, please," you whispered out, his face formed a smirk, that was all he needed. After all this time he still needed a yes and it drove you up the wall with excitement. 

He slowly leaned down, connecting your lips, his hands immediately reaching for you, tugging off any piece of clothing in his way, gripping what skin he came in contact with. Soft moans escaped him, slight groans. He pressed his clothed self against you, causing a soft reaction from you - a small whine. "More, need more," you insisted. He pulled back, examining what clothes he'd left you in. Just panties, his eyes wandered your naked form before he quickly and easily tore those off. Literally tore. "Seb~"

"It's okay, I'll buy you more," he assured, not at all phased by the action. He captured you in another kiss, hands moving to find your breasts. Grazing your nipple with his thumb, you pathetically lifted your hips trying to gain some sort of friction. He pulled his body a little further, watching your needy state. "Mh, god...so pretty," he mumbled. His hands moved down your body, slowly, reaching your thighs he spread your legs for him, examining your wet pussy. "So pretty," he repeated, slowly running a finger between your folds. You shivered, watching him.

"Seb- more...need more," you insisted pathetically, he didn't react immediately, finger lightly tracing around you, before he quickly shoved it in. Your body reacted quickly, a long guttural moan escaped you as your back arched a little. 

"Fuck, I feel that," he grunted a little, "fuck he you're tight," he slowly pulled his out, glancing up at your face. Another thing he always did - watched. Watched for your reactions to know just what felt good and just what he needed to do. He slipped the finger back in, watching to see how you took it. You bit your lip to fight back the moan that erupted and in reply, he instantly shoved a second one in. "Oh come on, give me it, moan for me," he encouraged, his other hand rubbing softly against your clit - urging you to an orgasm. 

 "Oh, fuck - Seb," you whimpered out, his eyes locked on you, glancing down at your pussy, making sure he was pumping in and out well enough, watching your wetness soak his fingers. "Gon- gonna cum..." in reply, he pumped faster, rubbed harder. You gripped the sheets of the bed, moaning out Sebastian's name. And finally, you let go. Tightening around his fingers, he coaxed out the remainder of your orgasm before pulling his fingers out. 

He wasted no time ripping off his suit, undoing the dress shirt, and tossing it to the floor. (He never cared for suits). The dress pants came next, falling to the floor you could finally see the extent of his bulge. He quickly removed his boxers, throwing them aside. He climbed fully on top of you, a hand gripping yours and lacing the fingers together. "Ready, baby?" he purred softly, never wanting to do anything you wouldn't want. 

"Yes...yes," you answered, squeezing his hand. You whined when he moved his hand away, shivering as it traced its way down your body, to your hips. He lifted you slightly, positioning himself. "Condom?" you mumbled, looking at him. Eyes glazed, still coming down from your last high.

"Mind if I skip it tonight?" he asked, you shook your head.

"Fill me..." 

He smirked, always loving when you gave an order. He would do his best to fulfill every desire you had, he slowly and gently pushed his tip against you. Eyes glued to your face. He gave you the tip first, you groaned out and Sebastian had to remind himself to take things slow. The urge to slam in and thrust as hard as he could was tempting, but he wanted to draw out the session and make you feel as good as he possibly could. So, as you adjusted, he took his time shoving in. Watching. Waiting. Once he was sure you were adjusted, he slowly pulled back out, slowly shoved back in. Your hands wandered, looking for his shoulders, his back. You gripped him with your nails, digging into his skin. 

He groaned as your nails dug in, knowing you'd leave marks. "Mh, god...ready for more?" he whispered, you whimpered and nodded pathetically - and this time Sebastian didn't ask for words. His pace sped up, hands holding you firmly in place as his hips trusted. The room filled with sounds of your moans, his soft grunts, and skin against skin. He managed to last until your nails dug deeper into his back, clawing down it. "Can't-fuck can't hold it...cum for me baby..." 

You didn't need the words, with one hard thrust from Sebastian you bit his shoulder to stop yourself from screaming and waking up the whole town. Walls clenching tightly around his cock. He grunted, slowing his pace, letting you cum all over him before he shot his load into you, a soft moan - almost a whimper - escaped him. He waited for a moment, head thrown back and eyes shut tight. "God...keep squeezing like that and I'm not gonna...gonna stop cumming.." he grunted out, when you both came down from the high he pulled himself out.

His eyes flickered to your pussy, dripping with a mix of your two's cum. "Fuck, you're so gorgeous," he mumbled, kissing your lips gently. "I'll clean you up, baby," he added, standing and heading for the bathroom. 

Sure, it wasn't a trip away - but every day and night Sebastian made the honeymoon feel absolutely perfect.

tag list:

comment if you want to be tagged in future Sebastian fics!

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 36: can i call?

NOTE: classes start tomorrow 😔💔

Your eyes drifted away from the movie both of you were watching when you felt your boyfriend shift.

"Kuni?"

"Oh sorry." He looked back upon hearing your voice. You just noticed that he was about to get something from his black bag. "Did I bother you?"

You shook your head profusely. "No, not at all! I was just wondering what you were—" You focused your eyes on his hands that were hidden inside the bag. "— up to?"

Scaramouche did not spare a single moment. As he took something out, your ears were enveloped by the sound of plastic material ruffling against each other.

He handed you what seemed like a folded piece of dark blue clothing packed inside a plastic sleeve.

"Is this for me?"

"Idiot. Why else would I give it to you?"

"I just didn't want to assume, okay?!"

"Can I open it now?"

He gave a nod of approval.

More ruffling of plastic can be heard as you started to take the clothing out. It was dri-fit, made from microfiber polyester — the common material used to make jerseys for the athletes that you know. Even your brother has jerseys like these.

Wait, a jersey?

"Oh my god, Kuni!"

Satisfied with your reaction, Scaramouche smirked. "That's not just a merch, too. It's one of my own official jerseys."

"What the heck?!" You yelped. You held the jersey up and turned it around. It indeed displayed his surname and player number at the back. You gripped the clothing even more tightly. "Are you sure I can have this?"

"Of course. My mom said so too."

"Really?"

"Mhm, she really likes you."

"Woah."

"Not more than I like you, though," he grinned.

You coughed and smacked his arm lightly. "Shut up."

"Okay okay, calm down." He raised both his hands up. "Ah. Also, she gave me tickets for you."

Your brows furrowed. "Tickets?"

"The soccer finals for this season. We're against your school, remember?"

"Huh?! That's coming up so soon, what?! Hold on?!"

"Yeah, stupid." He flicked your forehead lightly before comfortably leaning against the backrest, both his arms supporting his head.

Not gonna lie, he looked so attractive sitting like that.

Wait, no.

The finals is that soon?

Oh, God.

You told your brother you'd introduce your boyfriend to him after the game!

How many weeks from now is that? Wait, is it even a week or just days —

"So..." Your boyfriend's voice pulled you out from your spacing out session. "Who are you cheering for?" He smirked.

"Uh... can't I do for both? Hehe."

Scaramouche quickly took a look at his lockscreen. The huge white text at the top currently displayed '21:54'. Your brother hasn't arrived home yet.

"Kuni, it's getting late. Aren't you going to head home?" You asked him as you busied yourself with playing with Vivi on the rug.

Yeah, it's getting late and your brother still isn't home. How is he supposed to leave when you're going to be left home alone?

"What time is your brother supposed to get home?" He asked you.

"Venti and Xiao are drinking out with my brother. And, given Venti's alcohol tolerance, they might end late," you chuckled.

He sighed in return.

You gasped.

"Hold on, are you still not heading home because you're worried about me?"

Your boyfriend huffed and looked away. "Who told you that?"

"My instincts," you smiled. "Don't worry, okay? I'll be fine. Both me and my brother are used to being alone all the time since we also sometimes sleep at our friends' houses."

"You should start heading home now while it's not that late yet. Your mother might also be worried now."

"Are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Okay. I'll text you when I get home."

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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[sukunas-wife]

Hi!!, can you do a sukuna x reader, where reader died it’s up to you how she died and I need sukuna’s reaction🥹, LOVE YOUR STORIES BTW🫶🏻🫶🏻

A second one 😭 I’m sorry to have kept you waiting for so long but I’m pouring my angst into this whole heartedly

(Warnings: Death, Blood, Still Born child, No comfort? Sad Baby Yuji 🥹)

—- —- —- —- —-

“She’s beautiful.” Uraume looked up at his lord, “She is.”

They were watching you, the vibrant red fabrics fluttering around you held your son up in the air spinning him around.

Your smile was big and filled with pure joy and love for your son who was laughing with closed eyes and his own big smile. His giggles filled your ears as you leaned over letting his feet graze the floor before you lifted him up letting him go briefly from your hands so he could get that feeling of flying. He squealed and laughed holding on to you when you held him against your chest smothering his face in kisses and praises.

You smiled at him resting him on your hip, you sighed as he held onto you. Resting his head on your shoulder and looking up at you with those amber eyes he was happy just being with you. “I love you.” His little voice squeezed your heart as you awed, gently holding his face with your free hand, rubbing your thumb over his cheek, “I love you.” He smiled with an “eheh” shrugging his shoulders up and closing his eyes.

—- —- —- —- —-

You hummed laying against your husband’s side. You laid on your side facing him, your left hand resting on his chest. His lower right hand was resting on your hand on his chest. His upper right hand was tucked behind his head. His lower left hand was wrapped around your waist holding you close, and his upper left hand was on the crown of your head brushing your back.

Your breathy laughter pulled his train of thought from staring at the canopy of the bed to looking at you with a look of amusement at your sudden and quiet laughter. “What amuses you?” His hand on your waist squeezed at you before his hand ghosted up and down your side.

“Yuji admires you Ryomen, you should know he believes you hold the world in your hand.” Tilting your head to look up at him, you could see the slight pull at the corners of his lips. You held his stare for a while longer, your eyes softened as you smiled, letting your head fall away from his stare to lay against his chest. Listening to his heart beat you became aware of your own, the flutter in your chest you felt in your throat. You hummed turning more into your husband’s side. “You’ll be going to the village soon won't you?” He hummed, letting his hand still against your side. His stare hadn’t fallen from your face, “I will.”

Your hand under his heavy one raised to interlock your fingers with his, “Do you think Yuji and I could accompany you? I really wish I could take him out to see more than just our garden walls.” Your husband’s chest rumbled under your head as he let out a long hum, “I’ll consider it for now, it won't be official if I decide it isn’t safe.” You smiled, he could feel your expression change against his chest. You squeezed his hand as best you could before you sat up, moving closer and using your free hand to caress his cheek where you gently placed a kiss, “Thank you for considering it Ryomen.”

His hand fell from your side to your thigh, you sat there leaning over him, looking down at him with such a loving and content expression. His smile was notable as he pushed himself upbringing a hand you hold your cheek and jaw as he carefully pulled you into a kiss. “Rest now.” He pulled you into his chest as you both fell back into the bed.

—- —- —- —- —-

“Daddy…” Yuji’s small voice forced Sukuna to turn around. He was standing there rubbing his scarlet eyes. His pink hair was an untamed mess, his free hand was hanging by his side holding one of those tiger dolls you had chosen for him while you were pregnant, “where are you going?”

They stood in silence before Sukuna knelt down, causing his son to move closer, “Do you want to come with me?” Yuji nodded before his dad smiled faintly at him. Sukuna stood keeping his lower set of eyes focused on his son. Yuji followed blindly, before he used his free hand to take his dads.

Sukuna allowed it as they made it to the kitchen where very few servants were awake cleaning dishes or kneading dough for the bread his wife loved to eat fresh in the morning. They all bowed deeply, getting him respectfully. In fear and in curiosity wondering why the Lord of the house of all people had stumbled into the kitchen at such late hours of the night that were soon becoming early hours of the morning.

He found Uraume amongst the servants, Uraume simply nodded, closing their eyes and bowing their head. Yuji followed his father out as they went to sit at the wooden tatami table. Sukuna supported himself with two arms as he leaned back, keeping the other two crossed over his chest. Yuji sat beside him yawning, eyes closed as he swayed slightly when sleep would try to pull him back. Finally he fell against his father who was startled, you had done the same thing to him a few times when you were naive and thought you could accompany him into the ridiculous late hours of the night that would turn into early hours of the morning. Soon enough you learned he didn’t need to sleep entirely as much as you did, most nights he’d accompany you and lay there awake with his eyes closed just to keep your company. Now he was watching his son do the same, still he unfolded his arm and wrapped it over his son pulling him into his lap and leaning him against his chest and stomach.

It was quite a sight to see the king of curses slurping down fresh meats with his sleeping son sat in his lap held against him with his lower set of arms. Sukuna didn’t enjoy his range of eating being limited to two arms but he remembers doing the same thing with you, it brought a foreign feeling that made his bones ache in a way he couldn’t understand. Still there he sat eating trying to sedate his hunger, an hour had passed of him cracking bones for marrow the way he had seen you break open crab legs to satisfy your own hunger when you were with child.

“Oh? So he’s with you?” Sukuna’s attention was pulled from the bone he was about to snap as he turned to you.

“Wife.” He addressed you while he loosened his grip on his son, “Husband.” You addressed him as you knelt beside him slowly pulling your four year old son freeing his arms. “You should be resting.” Sukuna looked down at his bone splitting it clear in half making quick work with all his free hands he scooped the marrow out into a bowl before moving onto the second half, you hummed as Yuji clung to you in his sleep, running your hand over the pink tufts of hair you cooed at him, “I wish I could rest but these days it feels like it's the last thing on my mind.” Sukuna stayed silent, mixing spice and spring onion into his bone marrow with a few other things before he filled his mouth with the mix spread over bread. “Are you with child? It would explain why you’ve become so restless these nights.” You watched as he mixed more ingredients into the bowl, “It could be, the last time I watched my husband mix marrow so aggressively was the night before it was declared I was with child.” His motions came to a stop, you watched as his eyes snapped in your direction before he placed his bowl down. “Is that so?” You simply hummed as he moved to stare down at his bowl, the mixed contents weren’t something he frequently requested, in that matter this is the second time he has ever asked for it to be made. But you were right, the last time he had requested it, you were three weeks along with the child…

”In the morning…” you hummed already knowing what he was saying, “I’ll go put Yuji down, you finish.” Your softer voice played at his heart as he stood alongside you, “I’ll take him and then come to you.”

—- —- —- —- —-

Sure enough you were pregnant, the months had passed with haste and the new year was approaching with haste. Everyday passed with you huffing and whining at the ache in your back, hips and chest. But of course the festival came around and Sukuna remembered your words, your request of letting Yuji and yourself accompany him. He decided he’d rather not leave you home alone, but he also argued to himself that having you travel in your state could be a mistake if your body decided the hour to have your child would be midway to the village. This led him to have a palanquin made, one in which you and Yuji would be delivered alongside himself, uraume and the elder female servants that had helped you deliver Yuji.

It was quite the show to the village to see a moving shrine, carried by sixty men and women who walked with purpose and pride. In all its time they had never seen the King of Curses ever arrive in such a manner, but it was all explained after they saw the pregnant woman stepping out after him followed by a child that resembled him in uncanny ways.

The platform where Sukuna would usually sit was prepared for his arrival, not too far was a small shrine house that he prepared for both you and Yuji until he could accompany you. Yuji was excited running around the small house looking in every pot and chest and trying to taste every new fruit he found on the table. They were all offerings to your husband, offerings that would go to waste if Yuji didn’t attempt to eat them.

You watched as you laid back on the bed, he was rambling on and on bringing you pieces for you to try also. You were humoured by the stars in his eyes when he would find something he “loved” more than the last. Finally he settled beside you kicking his feet on the edge of the bed as he ate a banana and would offer you a bite before he took another and let the cycle continue. Soon enough you were both full of the fruits he picked out to be the best. You smiled watching him as he busied himself looking through more crates until he could a shiny box of red wood with specks of gold. He looked back at you with a big smile and wide eyes before he did his best to run back to you with it. He placed the box on your lap as you sat up stuffing extra cushions behind your back. You taught him how to turn the simple lock and let him do it himself. He stared down at the little decorative mooncakes, severely unimpressed, “Look like soap..” you broke into laughter, “Yuji!” You tried to scold him, stopped by your laughter, “These are moon cakes. They have different fillings. You should try one.” “Mm mm.” He shook his head no, “Why not?” He shrugged, “Looks funny.” You sighed picking one up, “Your dad loves them, and if you want to be big and strong like him you need to try them too.” He made a mix of a sour and miserable face before he took the piece you were holding out to him, he bit it and you watched his face sour, his eyes closed and nose scrunched and you were quick to hold your hand out in front of him as his spit out the chewed moon cake, “don’t like it, tastes funny.” He whipped his teary eyes and you closed the box pushing it away, “I’m sorry my little dove, come here.” He crawled onto the bed next you curling against your side where you consoled him as he sniffled at the assault. It didn’t take long before he was pressing his ear to your stomach tapping on it like a melon to see if there was a reaction. Sure enough there was, his younger sibling was throwing kicks and Yuji was giggling rubbing over the spot where the kick would show.

You’d finally turned to look out the window, you could see a short distance away your husband sat there unimpressed under the orange shades of the sun from where it had begun to set.

You had also seen the woman that ran freely in her skin to your husband hugging him, you didn’t miss the angry expression on Uraume’s face, but even before they could react you watched as the woman was thrown off and the gush of blood in the air from where she fell spread out on the floor. You were upset greatly, and internally huffing and puffing about how that woman would so easily dare to touch him and much less in her bare skin in front of all those people.

Yuji was well aware of the sudden shift in your personality so he decided to slide off the bed and look for a way to distract you. Then he came back with a thin wooden box. He shook it around before handing it to you with those big bright eyes.

Cracking it open you realise it was a folding Gomoku board, he loved trying to play Gomoku with his father. So you did your best to prove a challenge to him. The early afternoon passed before your almost filled board was shaken as you both shook from the sound of the door slamming open just to see your husband cringing at his own intrusion. “Daddy!” Yuji cheered while trying to cheat, watching as he put an extra piece down made you smile and shake your head. “Hm?” Sukuna was quick to catch his son who ran at him and jumped off the bed in his direction. “Who was that naked lady?” You watched Sukuna stiffen at Yuji’s question when you weren’t even aware Yuji had seen it. “Mommy was really mad.” Yuji crossed his arm and closed his eyes, nodding with a smile as if he should’ve been proud to tell his dad about how upset you were.”

“She is a fool and nothing more.” The answer was for Yuji, but he directed it at you with the way he turned his head to hold your stare. You didn’t seem amused as a single brow rose before you turned to the edge of the bed to stand. “Mhm.” Your hum was audible and left a shiver in both Yuji and your husband’s spines, “mommy’s mad.” Yuji wiggled out his dad’s hands hitting the floor with a thud before he ran off to find something else to keep himself busy.

—- —- —- —- —-

It was a long afternoon of Yuji bouncing between you and his father with the biggest smile and bright eyes. The two of you are playing a game of “well fine then.” Even if Sukuna had “apologised and explained” in his own way, you were upset he didn’t kill her on the spot and it showed.

“Papa… can we try that one?” Sukuna turned his head to see fried squid on a stick, the smell lingering in the air would’ve been savoury to anyone else, “Not now, if you eat more you’ll get sick.” So Yuji pouted and turned to you where you were looking at a stall of elderly women who were swelling swaddles and fabrics for babies for the cold season. “Mama,” you turned to Yuji who pulled on your kimono’s layers, “Yes Yuji?” You squatted just a bit to be level with him to hear what he had to say, “Daddy said no but I really wanna try that thing on the stick…” his hand still holding the fabric of your kimono while he pointed at the squid on a stick, “Yuji…” you started and opened your mouth to say something else, closing it and taking time to think, it would be fun to go against Sukuna, but he had already eaten so much… but you were hungry too and it was starting to linger on your tongue, “How about we share one?” He nodded with a toothy smile and you took him over ignoring your husband’s incredulous look. Although Sukuna was displeased he let you both sit and eat as he continued to look around near booths for nothing in particular, bored of having already spent most of his day seeing these people. That was until he saw something glimmer that caught his eye, he was quick to pick it up and examine it for himself, the poor shop vendor couldn’t meet his eyes but rather offered a small lavish wooden box, “L-lord Sukuna, this is for that item s-so that it won’t be damaged in your travels.” He eyed the laquered box and took it from the man, not a single word was exchanged on his part as he left the man standing there in relief that he still had his life.

Night fell and you were feeling lively again even daring to hold one of your husband’s arms despite the strange looks of the people. Even more when on his shoulder Yuji was sitting, holding onto his fathers hair and looking around without a care in the world. To even think of the king of curses being a normal husband and father would have been Taboo, now seeing it in person was a sin that made many look away in fear of repercussions for staring too long. All but one pair of eyes that you could feel lingering but you could never meet them in the sea of people. Still you held onto your husband as he led you both to a bridge overlooking the shore front. Your eyes lit up having remembered your days as a child and seeing the lights on new years night. This would be Yuji’s first time ever seeing them, which led you to be excited for him.

Sukuna seemed uninterested as he rolled his shoulders to stretch and jostled his son around who laughed before crossing his arms and resting them on his dads head with his chin. He was tired and it was beginning to show. That was until the first light was set off and you watched how he perked up, mouth dropping open and his eyes widened in shock, “DID YOU SEE THAT!?”

He was in awe as another went off in another colour. You placed your hands on the railed resting your weight against it, the tiredness finally settling in your body, you noticed how your husband placed his hand over yours, turning your hand over you smiled, interlocking your fingers the best you could with his. He held on tight to your hand, and brought his second arm up to pull you into his side and hold you against him. You could hear all of Yuji's hushed sounds as he babbled about the colours and lights.

Yuji was unaware of your exchange when his father slipped you a wooden box.Curious you opened it up, it was a Kanzashi hair pin, its metal carved to look like a sprig of bamboo in a circular frame and a small shrine. It had a bundle of red equinox flowers and thin dangling links with small red gems. To anyone this would’ve been off putting, red spider lilies, corpse flowers, the symbol of death. But you knew in his eyes the flowers were one thing he was fond of, he had always shown an interest in such blooms. When they were in season you remember a day wouldn’t pass where the vase in your shared room didn’t have a small bundle. It felt threatening at first when they started appearing, but you understood soon enough when you had caught him twirling a bloom in his fingers. He beckoned you over pulling you into his lap and tucking its stem into your hair, he told you how he could never comprehend how the human mind was entirely too simple to say something so beautiful could have such a morbid ideal behind it.

Picking up the pin you smiled, “It’s beautiful.” He hummed, slipping it from your hand and turning to you, pulling the pin from your hair and sliding the new into place. That hand slowly grazed over your cheek and neck before it came back up to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he was going to lean down and kiss you before he was interrupted by a tug at his hair. You couldn’t help but laugh quietly as his eye twitched and he reached up with one hand pulling Yuji off his shoulders, “What was that for, brat?” Yuji was hanging there by his dads hand, “You turned and I couldn’t see the lights anymore…” Sukuna sighed and you laughed reaching up to take your son in your arms and help onto you resting his head on your shoulder with a yawn, “‘m sleepy.” Rubbing his back, you smiled, “We should get you home then.” You turned to Sukuna who was overlooking the seafront, “It’s late, you can rest in the offering house.” Slowly you made your way to the offering house after Sukuna took Yuji from you much to Yuji’s protest, but knowing you shouldn’t be carrying a four year old he didn’t cave to Yuji’s whines and cries.

The night was eventful, both you and Yuji had gotten comfortable on the bed chatting about how much he had seen and done before he was laying on the side of the bed pressed against the wall peeking out the window into the starry night. You laid there smiling up at him, he was happy and that’s all you ever wanted for him. Soon enough Sukuna came into the house after securing the guards that followed were on patrol for the night. He let his weight fall onto the bed beside you causing the bed’s frame to sway, you watched as he hesitated as he laid down beside you. He pulled you into his side facing you, you smiled up at him, your hair was loosely braided to avoid being pulled or laid on. Finally he met your lips uninterrupted in a kiss, you both could feel the other smile before he leaned back,both of his arms tucked under your body, one hand holding your waist the other rubbing up and down your side in a sense of comfort that was broken as soon as Yuji threw himself back onto the bed causing the frame to sway and break away leaving all of you to be shaken as the bed frame laid on the floor without the support of its legs. You had to fight back a laugh, of course Sukuna heard your shaky breath and knew you were beyond humoured. So he didn’t worry about fixing anything, he didn’t even find it in him to scold his son. Instead he moved over letting Yuji squeeze between the both of you. Using a hand he pulled your head closer carefully kissing the top of your head before he let you go. Yuji who was comfortably squished between the both of you was already lost to sleep leaving you to follow as Sukuna laid awake thinking of the child bound to come soon. Soon enough he closed his own eyes chasing unnecessary rest.

—- —- —- —- —-

Morning came you groaned as you tried to force yourself to sit up. You were against the wall with Yuji’s head next to where yours had previously been, he was splayed out like a starfish and you quieted your laugh noting how his foot was squished against his fathers cheek. Yawning you did your best to not wake up either boy. Still your husband's eyes opened slowly to look at you, he made a face noting his son's foot was what was pressed against his face. He slowly sat up stretching out his muscles as he went about standing. At this rate Yuji would be asleep till early afternoon, he held his hand out to you trying to help you get out of bed so you could stretch your own body out. You both looked at Yuji who simply rolled in his sleep taking your place, “he’s an atrocious sleeper.” Sukuna was looking at him and all you did was smile, swatting his chest, “Says the man who’s almost suffocated me with his arms at least twenty different times.” He grinned at you, “You act as if you don’t enjoy it.” His hands on your waist pulling you closer until your baby bump smacked into his stomach making him laugh quietly, “If you desire to deny it I can assure you the proof is more than in just here.” A third hand came and rubbed over your stomach making you give him a look but leaving you unable to deny it.

”Ryomen Sukuna, for the life of me I cannot comprehend how or why I let you do this to me a second time.” He grinned, squeezing your waist in his hands leaning in closer to you to whisper, “That’s easy my little lotus, You get lost in your own little desires.” You shivered before you shook your head, swatting his firm chest again and pointing a finger at him, “if you want a third you’ll have to do more than just work for it, Ryomen.” He let out a hearty laugh letting you slip from his hold, “You’ll see,” he sighed smiling down at you with those pearly canines, “you’ll see.”

The morning felt short as you sat under your husband's arm watching the morning pass. It wasn’t often that you’d get to enjoy the morning sun’s passing since you’d gotten pregnant. Your sleep schedule was horrendous and you loved trying to sleep in late, but at this moment you could almost hear the chime of those little glass wind catcher’s that would chime in on breezy days, “We should watch a sunrise when we return home” you’re words were accompanied by Sukuna’s quiet agreement as he nodded before he spoke up. “I’ll need to return to the village for a short time, will you accompany me?” Taking a deep breath and sighing, you squeezed one of his hands, “I’ll stay and rest if you’d like to take Yuji with you, It’ll be a long way home.” He stared at you, you could see the concern behind his hard stare, taking his larger hand in both of your own. You gave it a pat before bringing it up to give it a quick kiss, “I’ll be fine, the ladies will be outside, just a call away.” The both of you turned to the window where you could hear the sounds of him waking up, his little yawn and groans, “I’ll get him ready if you do want to take him with you.” You didn’t miss the look that crossed his face, it made you laugh knowing he didn’t exactly want to carry Yuji’s on his shoulders when his little legs couldn’t keep pace because it lessened his intimidating appeal, not by much but in his head it felt ridiculous.

“Very well.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep rubbing your swollen stomach now that your son wasn’t bumping his head into yours or laying on your chest.

—- —- —- —- —-

It was a horrible feeling, the pain in your stomach, your laboured breaths, it felt like your spine was about to snap and the heavy waves nauseated as you struggled to breath. Your blood was spreading and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold onto consciousness, still you pushed yourself with every wave of pain that pulsed through you to make it, to push through and just last a little longer.

Your hand was stained with blood, and you barely managed to walk, leaning heavily on the wooden fence of the village, your other bloodied hand trying to steady you, as you gasped pushing further, your robes were torn through in one spot straight through to your womb. Your cursed technique was failing, you couldn’t heal yourself even with reverse cursed technique. Just as you were about to round the corner you stumbled into a man and a woman.

The kind people from the squid place, they’re greeting not reaching your ears as you felt a strange pressure in your head and you staggered, they looked confused before they panicked quickly at your side yelling, it was in and out, so distant as they started to drag you further, you were stumbling but you could feel yourself lessening in weight like you were fading.

Closing your eyes for a second it wasn’t long but at that point everything became clear as you were surrounded by people at an infirmary. They were shaking you, ripping your robes open, “Mama, stay awake mama, we need you here with us. We can save you but your child won’t make it. Do you understand me?”

The woman looking down at you, her face was concerned as you slowly shook your head side to side, “Save… save my .. my child.” Your voice was breathy in between breaths.

“Mama, you WILL die if we put your child first, do you unde-SAVE HIM.” You gasped and a strangled cry, as your back arched, the pain was pulsing, “please,” a broken cry left you when your body twisted and cringed at every jolt of pain, “his father is Su..Sukuna…Ryo..Ryomen.” You finally got your husband’s name out as your body moved on its own from the pain, they all looked panicked, “Tell him..” your eyes rolled back as your mouth opened, “That woman did this…” you huffed, your heart speed up in a burst feeling it in your throat

She rushed off yelling something before she came back to your side and nodded once with a firm expression, “We’re going to do everything we can.”

It wasn’t long before you saw Sukuna, they were cutting your stomach open, you could feel it but you couldn’t at the same time. The blood loss had you pale, fading in and out, they’re hands on your skin, the wound on your stomach stretching open, it all felt like a dream, maybe that’s why when you saw Sukuna and he stood over you you thought he wasn’t there when you stretched out your hand, the tears in your eyes welling up and everything stopped, there was no sound, no movement, you couldn’t feel a hand on your stomach, you watched as your husband said something but you couldn’t hear it, his head snapped as he yelled looking away from you, you could hear the words as if you were holding your breath underwater and you were losing air. He took your head getting closer, he was there by your head, hands wiping away your tears that were falling freely without you even feeling them. He squeezed your hand roughly, trying to keep your eyes from closing, his words were lost as he moved in closer to you and you heard him clearly in your momentary clarity, “They’re going to save you….”

Your eyes widened, as you tried to sit up only for him to move over you holding you down shaking his head no, he knew if you saw what they were doing you’d surely die from the shock of why your body was facing, he had tried to use his reversed cursed technique, but whoever had done this to you was well versed in their tools. You felt nausea and he watching as your chest heaved, “Y/n, listen to me.” You shook your head in denial, the words leaving your mouth hoarse, “Save him.” Sukuna watching as the people stopped looking at each other concerned, as the mother you had more right to your own body, that was until Sukuna snapped at them for stopping, they were stuck in a bind working with haste as you told them to save your child only for Sukuna to tell them to save you, turning to you and silently begging you to not be stupid, to fight to stay here with him,

Fight to be here with him on those ridiculous morning where your hand would graze over those wind chimes to make them right when there was no wind

When the morning sun lighting up your skin had you glowing like the fog over the mountains

When you would hold his hand and cuddle up to his shoulder

Fight to be here with he and Yuji as he’d run out on his messy robes looking for you just to crawl into your lap and hold onto you

Fight to be with Yuji when he’d cry for hours at night over a night terror and you’d coo at him, taking him your arms rubbing his back and kissing his head and telling him some silly story

Fight to be there with him on those late night where he would lay on your chest, so you could run your hands through his hair and over his shoulders and love him endlessly in a way only you could

Fight to be with him on nights he would hold you close and kiss every inch of your skin reminding you why had chose you out of every other person

Fight to live just a little longer so you could fully understand that no one would ever hold his heart as dearly or as tenderly as you could

Fight so he can take you that village that he had told you about and you dreamed of going once you had given birth, to see those blue spider lilies, to see the wind chimes that would ring in celestial tunes, to see that forest of wysteria he had told you about and you had dreamed of being able to see.

“Sukuna…” your voice was hushed as you did your best to take his hand in both of yours, they were cold, a weak grip, “I won’t.. I know I won’t.” He denied it, “Don’t be so foolish, tell me who did this to you..”

“That woman, she…. Killed everyone…” his anger filled the room, suffocating everyone. “I'LL KILL HER I SHOULD HAVE KILLED HER I WILL KILL HER.” He went to stand from his kneeling position beside you, “after you get up, I will kill her.” He leaned closer and brought your hand to his lips, “You need to get up.”

“I won’t make it… take our-NO.” His word was firm as you both held out in eye contact.

It was happening and you didn’t know it, the room had fallen silent, they were going to obey him, so you sighed, the tears hadn’t stopped, you tried to swallow, “If I can’t be saved you need to save our ch- if you die I’ll do whatever you ask but I won’t let you purposely put yourself in harms way.”

The room was silent, your free arm thrown over your eyes as you felt the faint movement in your stomach, under your skin, there weren’t any cries. Your hand squeezing Sukuna’s, you couldn’t look, move, your chest was burning to breathe.

Your arm slipped from your face and Sukuna was staring at you, you were pale and looked so tired, “Sukuna…” he was attentive, “I love you…” it scared him, the way you had spoken, he knew that tone, it's the tone you’d use when you’d finally admit defeat, “I’m sorry…” his eyes closed as he leaned over pressing his head to yours, he knew you wouldn’t make it, “Y/n…” you tilted your head trying to press your lips to forehead, your lips were cold, still he angled his head to catch your lips, “Take care of you… he loves you so…” Sukuna shook his head with his eyes closed, “it was a whisper when he told you he loved you, your weak hand touching the side of his face, “Don’t leave him alone, he loves being with you Ryomen…” your words were whole, your soft smile and soft eyes were sad, tired, on the verge of death.

“Take of yourself Sukuna, don’t let yourself get carried away in this world…” you shook your head no when he squeezed your hand harder, “I’ll come back to you one day..” he kept shaking his head no, he didn’t want you to come back, he wanted you to stay…

But that wasn’t the case, your hand slipped but he held it tight. Your eyes closed and looked away, his child, he looked like you, same hair, your facial features were prominent, a part of him was greatful the child hadn’t made it, it would’ve been a living reminder of how he couldn’t protect one of the few things in his life he had deemed important enough to change the quality of his life and actions even if it wasn’t by much.

They wrapped your child in your arms after they closed your stomach. Wrapping you in cloth, it was a peculiar idea to Sukuna, to wrap you up in cloth, he understood you were dead, but he couldn’t help but ask if you would be alright. His hand lingering over your face over the cloth, the silhouette of your eyes and nose. He ran the back of one of his hands over your clothed cheek, “I’ll take you home where you belong.”

The ride was long and filled with tears, Yuji cried, screamed, and threw up. He held onto your body pulling at the fabric begging you to wake up, it brought Sukuna to tear up hearing his son’s cries, “MOMMY MOMMY PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME MOMMYYYY PLEASE PLEASE WAKE UP MOMMY.” Sukuna snatched him off your body as Uraume tucked you away with care into the palanquin, Sukuna was going to set his son down until Yuji grabbed a hold of his neck crying and screaming, dry heaving and mumbling incoherent words. Sukuna pressed a hand to the back of Yuji’s head, another holding his small frame tight and close, hot tears wet his shoulder and chest as Yuji cried in reckless abandon. Sukuna’s own misted eyes burned as he held his child until he finally passed out from crying. He held him tight for much longer after that. Finally laying him once that had gotten far closer to their home…

You were home, you were home but you wouldn’t see another sunrise, or hear the tunes of all those wind chimes he had brought you over time. Home… where you wouldn’t be able to rest under that plum tree you loved so much or have Sukuna or Yuji resting on your lap after you had your tea and sweets…

Sukuna looked at that tree with disdain, a part of him urged him to get rid of it and never be reminded of you, the other part of him longed to see you sit under it one more time, to leave it standing in case you came back one day by some unworldly miracle.

When he picked up Yuji, he’d decided to leave him in his bed to finish sleeping away his distress. He’d have to make plans of where to go from here, Uraume had already preserved your body, it crossed his mind he could preserve you permanently, but he knew it would deal more damage than any other option. You needed to be put to rest, he wouldn’t allow himself to curse you and trap you for your eternal existence. Much less Yuji who had cried and screamed. You deserved to rest at peace.

—- —- —- —- —-

It wasn’t long after that day your husband had taken the initiative in planning your burial. On that same mountain at its peak he built a shrine. He laid your body in a stone reserve, sliding the heavy stone lid over it and stepping back watching Yuji. Your son placed a stone plate that had a carved figure of a mother and a child. For you and his brother he’d never get to meet.

Sukuna lit incense and he lowered his head, Yuji fisted his own robes in his hands sniffling and letting his tears fall silently, you were gone…

“Papa…what are you goina do?” Yuji’s slurred speech pulled Sukuna from his lost thoughts, “Now isn’t the time for that, let’s get you home.”

They turned away from you, the glass chimes on your shrine ringing in soft tunes in the wind, the short wisteria branches were blossoming and shaking in the wind, small blooms floating over the ground in their direction, it almost felt like we’re here.

It was then carrying his son, Yuji who laid the side of his face on his dads chest, little hands in his lap from where he sat on his dads arm, that Sukuna let the tears fall silently as he walked. Uraume bowed their head, eyes closing as they walked, accompanying their master in silence.

Yuji’s eyes looked up at his father and he stayed quiet, he understood everything and could only offer the comfort of his small hand rising to wipe the tears off his fathers face in a similar manner he had seen you do.

It wasn’t long after laying Yuji down for the night that he left him in Uraume’s care.

He went to find that woman Yorozo, promised her marriage if she’d follow him and obey his every order.

She fell for his insincere words, following behind him love struck to the shrine where he moved to stand behind her and drove that equinox flower pin into her head. It would be with her blood he would raise those blossoms for your memory.

Tag List: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille

@domainofmarie

[star-sim]

"nooo! she's taken!" ☆ enha maknaes

☆ non-idol! bf! enhypen maknaes x celebrity! fem! reader ☆ summary: you are a very well-loved celebrity, and your relationship is finally revealed to the public. ☆ genre: fluff, another poor attempt at humor, it's very silly ☆ warning(s)? none! lmk if you'd like to see this w the hyungs! hyung ver.

sunoo ☆

so youre a famous actress

you have your official instagram account

and then your personal one, that you only allow family and personal friends to follow

sunoo, your bf, also has an account on instagram

since most of you friends and family know him, it's not uncommon for him to take your phone and post on your personal account

one of those "hai guys i stole her phone 🤭"

all in good fun

so one night, you and sunoo and cuddling

it was one of those vibey nights

the lights were dim, candles lighting up the room with their orangey hue, light music playing in the background

laying on you and sunoo's shared bed, his face buried into the crook of his neck while you run your fingers through his hair

its honestly so soft and warm and comfy :]

the two of you aren't really talking to each other, just basking in each other's presence

and eventually you begin to doze off

at first sunoo was like "baaaaabee!! why did you stop touching my hair"

but then he realized you were asleep

so after givng your cheek a soft peck, and tucking you into the soft blankets

sunoo physically goes >:]

he takes your phone and decides that he's going to spam your personal account

because tbh he does this a lot and it's funny for everyone involved

sunoo takes very silly pictures of you and him

pictures of you sleeping, ones at very silly angles (ik he takes the most FOUL 0.5s)

on your story he posts them with also very ridiculous captions

theres one of you sleeping with the caption "mimimumuimuiu"

another fisheye lens one of sunoo with the caption "hai i stole [name]'s phone 😈"

but he also posts some sweet ones

like one where you're dozing off in his arms w the caption "she's so cute"

sunoo gets mushy at some point

like his captions go from funny to "im so happy that i get to call myself [name]'s boyfriend, i feel so lucky to be with such a beautiful and talented woman"

that's great!

really!

that's wonderful!

but.

there's just one problem

one

teeeeeeensy

weeeeeeeeeensy

problem

he was using the wrong account.

he was posting all this on your official, business, 7.8 million follower, instagram account.

and not your personal account.

!!!!!

😱😱😱

he doesn't notice until 20 minutes later his phone blows up with articles and text messages

and when he notices

sunoos like OH SHIT

he shakes you awake

and poor boy is so apologetic :(

"baby i'm so sorry i didn't mean to out our relationship like that i should have been more careful-"

but when he explains it to you

you kinda just laugh

and go back to sleep

HELP

sunoo deletes the stories but people already screenshotted them

yeah... so this blows up

i feel like they would become memes

like the ones of you sleeping become reaction memes or even worse part of those tiktok meme slides LMAOAOAO

a lot of people think it's adorable

and you do too

but sunoo is so embarrassed

poor boy

he was writing out entire think pieces on your instagram story oml

OH MY GOD I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING TERRIBLE

there's definitely articles that come out about this

and yk how on articles theres a title page with images

one of the images is of you ofc

all these news outlets use your super professional HD MODEL pictures of you

like ones where youre a goddamn SMOKE SHOW, the "who is she?" ones, the ZOOWEE MAMA ones...

and then they use one of the foul images that sunoo takes of himself that are like 3 pixels

like the 0.5 lens ones 😭

nevertheless, there is a happy ending

everyone thinks its so sweet

including you

and when people bring it up on interviews you're able to just laugh about it

<3

jungwon ☆

we joke abt jay and sunghoon and sunoo having mad side eyes

but i think we forget the FATHER of INSANE SIDE EYES

YANG JUNGWON HIMSELF

you're a singer/artist

and you just released a new EP!

on tiktok, you're making promotional videos to promote your new songs

looking like a cutie, popping off, as you always do!

anyways in many of them

you're in front of a glass door

or a mirror

so as youre being an absolute cutie promoting your song, in the background in the reflection you can see jungwon making faces

NOT BECAUSE HE'S MAKING FACES AT YOU

but bc sometimes there's ppl walking by and being judgy

jungwon is giving them mad stink eyes and it's caught in the reflection of your videos

i don't think a lot of ppl notice it until someone points it out

and when they do

theyre like

WHO TF IS THAT 😭

ppl are making tiktoks simply zooming into his face LMAOAOAO

and then a few days later

the paparazzi released pictures of you walking with jungwon, holding hands and on a date

and when ppl see it

theyre like

hmm...

that guy looks a lot like the guy in the reflection...

and then the dots connect

like sunoo, i think jungwon is embarrassed

everytime someone brings it up jungwon hides his face in your neck

and he wears that cute little bashful grin

but honestly it's cute

so just hug him and kiss his lil cheeks and he'll be okay

it kinda becomes viral on tiktok

so you make a few video stitches about it

you stitched the og video that pointed out jungwon's face in the background

your stitch was just a video of jungwon being embarrassed and freaking out

like bro was on the floor, hands in his hair

jungwon was in the trenches sorry 😭

there's another stitch where jungwon explains himself

he's dressed in a suit and tie and speaking so formally like he was making an apology video or something

"i would like to address a recent clip of me making inappropriate facial expressions-"

"babe you don't need to be so formal, it's a tiktok"

"you shant say that, i must do this for this is my will"

BRO WAS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE ☠️☠️☠️

#freejungwon

riki ☆

youre an actress that's very popular

except some ppl hate you bc they think hating popular people makes them interesting *eye roll*

safe to say.... riki is your NUMBER ONE DEFENDER

like he is the ring leader to all of those [name] stan twt group chats

he's the one leading those discord raids on your hate groups OH MY GOD 😭

he has multiple accounts and he fights every person that dares tarnish your name

twitter is his battlefield and the keyboard is his sword

anyways one day riki is so deep into an internet fight that he GETS DOXXED 😭😭

like it wasn't even graceful

i think he'd make fun of one of your haters

and the hater goes "wanna see something funny? :)"

and BOOM

ADDRESS

IP ADDRESS

FULL NAME

PERSONAL EMAIL

PHONE NUMBER

dont actually dox people guys its not funny

when riki gets doxxed they get his full name right

and the hater, his assailent, and their little posse start searching his name on social media to further dox him

and BOOM #2

THEY FIND HIS INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT

now riki isn't stupid

so his ig acc is private

however.....

the profile picture of his acc is a selfie of you and him kissing

they also did research on him and found out that you and him went to the same high school...

in fact they found miscellaneous pictures posted online of you and him a few years back... holding hands n shit....

OH

SHIT

this goes viral over night

like

its so bad that even news headlines are covering it

"TWITTER USER @[NAME]LUVER1209, HOT ACTRESS [NAME]'S MOST NOTORIOUS INTERNET DEFENDER, IS REVEALED TO BE HER BOYFRIEND 😱😱😱"

i feel like the public's reaction to this would be really light-hearted

like i think mst ppl would be cheering riki on

"he's so real"

"oh my god i think i was mutuals with @[name]luver1209"

"this is what true love looks like"

you have super loyal fans and riki's mutuals so they support you too

except i do think theyd be in shambles, but in good fun

"i just found out [name] has a bf im going to flush myself down a toilet"

"i can't believe she chose @[name]luver1209 when his fancams are so shit... THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!'

"i've been here waiting in line for three years and this random @[name]luver1209 swoops in and takes my woman..."

riki's stan account gains a lot of followers

and so with your permission

he posts a selfie of you and him

probably with a cheeky caption like "KISS MY ASS!!!!"

i feel like people go back and watch old talk show interviews and stuff

and if you zoom in

you'll see riki in the front rows cheering the loudest 😭

bro is everywhere

in the future there's def a moment where like

you're at a live talk show

and the host asks you about the fiasco

and you can literally just point to him in the audience like

"yeah my boyfriend's right there-- hi baby!"

and riki from the audience, behind his phone that he's using to record you like its a fancam, is like "hi baby!" back

i dont think the media even calls him riki, he's stuck as @[name]luver1209 forever

not that he minds

😭😭😭

hyung ver.

[writer-freak]

Asking you out | Valo men x Gn reader

Characters: Gekko, Chamber, Sova, Yoru, Phoenix, Cypher, Omen, Brimstone, Kay/o and Habor

Warning: Gn reader, fluff, maybe ooc, english isn't my first language

A/n: I decided to go back to my roots and write some headcanons for Valorant. Haven't written for them in some time and I'm not up to date with the current lore so sorry for inaccuracies

Thank you for reading and Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3

Gekko

Gekko is usually chill, so he’d be more low-key when asking you out.

One day you’re hanging out, Wingman chilling on your lap, and he just casually drops it

“Yo, maybe we should, like, go out on an official date?”

He’s trying to seem nonchalant, but the way he scratches the back of his head gives his nervousness away

When you agree, he lights up, his eyes wide with excitement and a big smile on his face

“Sick! Let’s grab something to eat!”

He’d definitely text his mom right after and would update her on how everything went

Chamber

Chamber has always been smooth, always flirting like it’s second nature

But when he asks you out, it’s a bit different

You’re used to his flirty remarks, but this time, after a successful mission, he walks up and asks

“If we succeed today, how about we celebrate together? Maybe dinner, just the two of us?”

His usual cockiness is a bit toned down, and there’s a vulnerability showing in his voice making it obvious he actually cares about your answer.

When you say yes, he recovers quickly with a grin, “I’ll consider that a victory, then.”

Sova

Sova is more straightforward and doesn’t really beat around the bush

After a long mission, he’d find you alone, pulling you aside. “You know I value you more than just a teammate, right?”

He’s nervous, but he says it calmly, watching for your reaction

If you tease him about being a softy, he’d chuckle, cheeks flushing slightly, before responding

“Perhaps I am soft… but only for you.” He’ll suggest something outdoorsy as a first date, like a quiet night under the stars, just something close to nature

Yoru

Yoru’s got a reputation for being cocky, and he’d play into that even while asking you out

“I heard you’ve been into me for a while now?” he’d say, smirking, trying to act cool

He’s testing the waters, but there’s a slight hesitation as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll reject him or call out his bluff

When you agree, he’ll act like it was no big deal, “Yeah, thought so,”

But then, his smirk softens slightly, and he looks at you more seriously. “So, how about we make it official? I’m asking you out—me and you, a proper date.”

If you agree, he’ll play it off cool, but you’d still catch the pink on his cheeks before he quickly changes the subject

Phoenix

Phoenix doesn’t like wasting time, so he’d ask you out while you’re the two of you were joking around together.

“Hey, let’s stop messing around and go out for real,” he’d say, flashing that bright grin.

“I’m serious though. Gonna be the best date of your life, I promise.”

His usual confidence is there, but you can tell he’s nervous from the way he messes with his jacket collar

When you say yes, he practically lights up—“Aight, bet! You won’t regret it.”

Cypher

Cypher’s approach is more subtle

He waits for a moment when it’s just the two of you, maybe working on something together

He’ll lean in slightly and say in a low voice, “I’ve come to enjoy our time together... Perhaps you’d also like something more?”

His tone is cautious watching for your reaction, but you can sense the warmth behind his words

When you agree, he smiles behind his mask

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he’d say, his voice softer. “How about dinner—just us?”

Omen

Omen is less direct when it comes to asking you out

One evening, after sitting together in silence, he'd hand you something small that he knitted himself

“This is for you.” he’d say in his usual low voice

If you ask him why he was gifting you this, he’d simply reply, “I want to be together with you.”

When you agree, there’s no visible smile, but you’ll feel the shift in his energy, warmth that shows that he is happy you accepted

Brimstone

Brimstone is all about professionalism, so he’d be more cautious about showing public affection.

If you’re already close, he might approach you after a mission, saying, “I’ve been thinking… maybe we should spend more time together outside of work.”

He’s straightforward, and his voice is calm, ready to accept your rejection

If you agree, he will give you a small smile.

“Glad to hear it. Let’s keep it between us for now, though.” He’s the type to plan something simple but meaningful—dinner at his place, maybe

KAY/O

KAY/O is logical, and while he’s sentient, human emotions can be tricky for him

He’d approach you one day, saying, “I have observed our interactions. I believe it would be beneficial to further explore this connection.”

It’s a bit robotic, but you can tell he’s trying

If you agree, he’d probably show a small heart symbol on his display, acknowledging the sentiment behind it

“Thank you. I will strive to meet your expectations,” he’d add, with a surprising amount of sincerity

Harbor

Harbor’s positive energy is contagious, and he’d be warm and positive when asking you out.

“You know, we always have a good time together,” he’d say with that bright smile of his.

“How about we make it official? Let me take you out properly.”

He’s all about showing affection, and if you agree, he’ll be beaming.

“You won’t regret it. I’ve got some amazing plans for us.”

He would make sure your first date is filled with fun and laughter

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

[sturnioloszn]

ICE BOUND (2) - M.S

summary; you go watch one of matt's games, which he loses, and you allow him to take his frustration out on you, but what you didn't expect was underlying feelings to be revealed.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex (don't do it ho), oral (eating pussy), dirty talk, praising, leaving hickeys.

a/n; this is part 2 to my most recent fic, so I recommend reading the one before this (ill have it tagged below). also, feel free to send thru any suggestions for future fics, i'd be more than glad to hear them and try to write them!!

P1, P3

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

3 - 3

They were tied. It's been a close game, and there were now five minutes left of overtime.

I was sitting on the furthest bench away, surrounded by people. This was the first game of playoffs, and it meant that many people were here to support their family and friends. I was here to 'support my father', but in reality, I was here for Matt.

Ever since me and Matt hooked up that one time after practice, it had become a regular thing. At first, he'd come over after practice or games for blowjobs or sex but then the visits became more frequent. He started coming over to watch tv and eat together. We even went out to lunch once. Of course, my father doesn't know about this. He'd kill us both.

We aren't anything official, but if you were to ask me whether he didn't mean anything to me, I wouldn't be able to answer you.

So, I was currently watching Matt glide on the ice, keeping his focus on the puck. I had to admit watching him play was a huge turn-on. They way he'd get all sweaty or even how he was visibly angry each time the other team scored had me soaked.

I watched the timer count down the seconds left, and my heartbeat sped up, hoping that someone on Matt's team would score. With ten seconds left, the other team had possession of the puck, and they flawlessly scored the winning goal.

My eyes flew to Matt to see his reaction, and it was just what I'd thought it'd be. He swung his hockey, stick at the ground, and pulled his helmet off as he skated off the ice. Matt had a tendency to be a bit of a sore loser, especially considering this was the first game of playoffs.

I stood up to go search for him, hoping that I won't find my father instead, but he should be preoccupied with talking to the team.

I leave the rink and head to the locker rooms. I find him stuffing his skates into his bag and mumbling under his breath. I walk up to him and place my hand on his shoulder. He looks up at me to acknowledge my presence before going back to what he was doing.

"You played well," I reassure him, even though I know he won't care. He scoffs before turning back to me.

"If we played well, we would've won... I can't believe we lost to those fucking amateurs," he says, speaking the last part under his breath. I watch as he pulls his jersey off and heads to the showers. It's best if I just wait outside and let him cool down.

It's been about half an hour since I left the locker room, and I finally see him exit with wet hair, fresh clothes on, and his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He has a frown on his face as he walks over to me.

"So what y'doing now?" He asks, looking me up and down. His hair was dripping onto his blue hoodie. Fuck, the way that hoodie made his eyes look even colder did unimaginable things to me.

"I don't know, I don't really have any plans..." I reply, trying to keep my composure. "...we could go to yours?" I continue. He squints his eyes at me before replying.

"Didn't you come here for your dad? What would he think if you just randomly left?" He says, raking his eyes over my body again.

"I'll text him saying something came up," I say, already thinking of an excuse.

"Yeah. My dick," he grins. What an idiot. I roll my eyes, and we make our way to his car.

The journey was pretty tame until he dropped his heavy hand onto my thigh. His thumb caressed the inside of my leg as he kept one hand on the steering wheel. I tried to sneak glances at him, but I was far from subtle. He was driving me insane.

We eventually reached his apartment, and we just about got through the door before his hands were already on me. He snaked his arms around my waist and pulled my mouth onto his. The kiss was rough and sloppy, to the point where our teeth clashed together.

"Let me help you," I offer, pulling away from the kiss just enough to speak.

"Help me with what?" He huffs, a confused look drawing on his face.

"Take your anger out...on me," I say, looking into his eyes. A smirk plays on his lips as he moves his hands to under my thighs, lifting me off the ground. Our kissing resumes as he walks us over to his bedroom.

He kicks the door open and sets me down on the bed, never breaking our kiss. He lifts my sweater high enough to place a few delicate pecks on my stomach before pulling it off completely. My jeans and bra follow until I'm left almost bare infront of him.

He's between my legs with his head pressed to my collarbone, leaving sloppy kisses all over. I feel his mouth latch onto my neck and start sucking but I pull away almost instantly.

"You can't..." I whisper, pulling his head away. He looks up at me with confusion. "My dad will find out if you do," I clarify.

He's annoyed by this, but regardless, he doesn't continue. He peppers kisses down my body until he reaches my clothed pussy. I let a sigh of relief out when he places a kiss right on my clit, and a whine when he continues moving down.

He reaches my thighs and throws my legs over his shoulders. He's so close than I can feel his breath on my skin.

"He won't find them here," he smiles slyly, before attaching his lips to the soft flesh of my thighs and sucking. I moan at the feeling of him sucking bruises into my skin and marking me.

I watch him work his mouth, leaving hickey after hickey on my legs. He eventually looks up at me before pulling my panties down, drinking in the sight of my pink, wet pussy infront of him.

He wastes no time bringing his tongue to my folds and licking up my wetness. My hand flies to his now damp hair and my moans become louder.

He's eating me like I'm his last meal, and he's trying to savour every moment. His tongue laps over my folds and his teeth graze my clit causing jolts of pleasure to run through my body.

"F-uck Matt, don't stop," I moan, and just as those words leave my lips, his mouth stops moving. I whine and buck my hips at his face for him to keep going but he pulls away, letting my legs drop from his shoulders.

I watch as he slips out of his clothes, revealing his thick and hard cock. He then brings his lips to my ear before speaking, "I'm going to fuck you until you forget your own name, pretty girl,".

With no warning, he shoves his cock into my hole, filling me completely. He begins to rock his hips into me harshly, forcing me to grab the sheets for support.

"Fuck, s-slow down," I stutter but his thrusts just become harder and harder.

"No fucking way, y'wanted this you slut, and now you're going to fuckin' take it," he grunts, pounding into me roughly. His large hands were gripping my hips so hard it felt as though they'd leave bruises.

I moan louder, his words pushing me closer to the edge. He looks down at my stomach and sees his cock fucking me from the outside.

"Fuck, look at that, you're taking my cock so fucking good," he growls, pushing his hand onto the bulge on my stomach, feeling his own dick.

"I'm s-so so clo-se Matt," I fumble my words. He was literally fucking me senseless. He then lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder again, reaching even deeper.

His cock was striking my g-spot over and over again and I just couldn't hold it anymore. I let myself go. I screwed my eyes shut, and I screamed at the pleasure coursing through my body. Matt continues to fuck me, chasing his own high.

"Fuck, fuck, yes, you're so perfect," he says, throwing his head back. I gained my vision again, coming down from euphoria, and saw he was close to coming. I squeezed myself around his cock and that tipped him over the edge.

"FUCK, I love you so much," He grunts, letting his hot cum fill me. My face drops. He didn't just- I was hearing it right?

His thrusts slow down, and he lowers his head to look at me. I try to conceal the shock on my face as he's looking at me. Did he even realise what he said?

His forehead drops to mine as we both recover from the intense sex we just had. I look into his mesmerising eyes, looking for a sign that he knows what he just let slip.

He eventually lifts away from me and goes to his bathroom to get a towel to clean both of us with. He comes back and wipes the cum spilling from my pussy.

I threw his jumper on, and he changed into clean boxers. We laid in bed together, enjoying eachothers silence, but my head was a mess. He just claimed he 'loved' me during sex. I wonder if he even heard himself say it?

The questions are eating away at me, and I can't keep it together anymore.

"Hey, do you remember what you said before?" I ask, shifting on his chest to look at him. He meets my eye contact before answering.

"No, what did I say?" He asks. Fuck. He doesn't even know what he said. He doesn't feel that way. There's no point asking.

"Nothing," I mumble, turning my head away from him. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Why was I upset? I don't care if he doesn't love me. We aren't together. I don't love him either.

Except.. I do. Without even realising it, I fell for him. Each time, he bought me my favourite takeout or cuddled with me after giving me the best dick of my life or even when he'd look at me while he was playing hockey and wink. It all made me fall for him, and I didn't even realise.

"No, something is up. What's wrong, pretty girl?" He asks, forcing me to look back up at him.

"It's just... while you were coming, you said that... you loved me..." I say, hoping that I don't scare him away for good. His face blushes red and he seems embarrassed.

"Well... it's how I feel," he admits. My jaw drops open, but I close it quick enough so that he doesn't see. "I'm sorry if that ruins things between us, I know we're jus-" I cut him off with my lips crashing into his. He hesitates for a moment before kissing me back.

"I feel the same..." I whisper, pulling back slightly from his lips. He's staring deeply into my eyes, trying to test if this was some kind of joke, but it wasn't. I truly felt that way, and it felt good to admit it.

After a few moments of us silently staring at each other, he speaks up, "do you want to give us a chance?"

I feel a smile take over my face, "more than anything,"

The rest of the day was spent being wrapped up in each other and uttering the words "I love you" every other sentence.

We didn't know how this would work, considering his coach was my father, but we weren't about to give up. Even if that meant more sneaking around...

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

a/n; woooo, done! also guys, ...200 followers?!?!?! what the fuck. that's insane. thank you, everyone, I can't begin to express how much it means to me. i am so beyond thankful to everyone who follows, reposts, and likes. i am so so grateful. love you all. 💙

Taglist; @idrk2292 @mattsfavseason @aalicats87 @045696

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 2

What You Gonna Do?

Azriel x Reader

A short follow up to Rainy Season since you all have been so gracious with your responses - Initially I planned a time jump for part 2 but decided to give a taste of the aftermath of her leaving. Things will eventually look up for our girl, she’s just going through it right now. Stay tuned for more! I’ve decided to make this a short series.

Part 1 Part 3

Warnings: cheating, language

Azriel

Who wakes you when the morning comes?

Azriel awoke to rays filling the room with brightness. Shit - he’d overslept. Why hadn’t Y/N woken him? He looked over to find the bed cold, as if it had been vacant for hours.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he wandered to the kitchen, lacking its welcoming aroma of fresh coffee and the sweet and savory aromas of pastries and bacon. No, it was totally empty.

Where was she?

“Y/N?” He groggily called out into the house.

Silence.

Slipping on a pair of pajama pants he wandered to the door. The chill of the house whipping against his bare, muscled abdomen.

Perhaps she was basking in the sunlight on the patio. He always loved how she looked in the morning rays - a deity in her own right. He should probably tell her that sometime.

Padding to the front door, two things caught his attention.

One, his clothes were strewn over top of his bag and two, a note was scrawled in her messy handwriting.

No - not a note. A list of rhetorical questions.

“Who wakes you when the morning comes?

Who gives you all she has to give?

Who fulfills all her promises?

Who sees the good in you?

What are you gonna do when I’m gone?

Where you gonna go when there’s nobody home?

Who’s gonna love you when you’re all alone?”

He dropped his head. Fuck - things were good last night. What happened? As he bent back down to clear up the strewn undergarments, the strong, sweet scent of Elain wafting into his nostrils.

No - those questions were not rhetorical. They were a plea. “Who?” Who is that person to him?

Clutching his chest he realized just how terrible a mistake he’d made when he fucked Elain.

—————

Y/N

The warm rays of the Summer Court and the overwhelming weight of crushing heartbreak greeted me bright and early. A mockery to the pouring rain I’d traveled through last night, showing up at my grandmother’s door like a drowned rat.

Instead of chastising me for how long it had been since I’d paid her a visit, her brown eyes only met me with compassion. She knew me well and every ounce of pain on my face spoke the words that I couldn’t get out.

She pulled me into a bone crushing hug, ran a hot bath and steeped a pot of tea before laying in bed behind me and running her fingers through my hair until my heaving sobs turned to shuddering breaths and eventually a deep sleep.

It was a strange feeling. It had been too long since I’d seen her and yet, she showed me more love and compassion in a span of three hours than I had in the last three years.

Thank the gods the rays woke me early as I had to make it to the palace in Adriata immediately.

“Leaving me so soon?” Grandmother asked as I hurried out the door. “Sorry! I promise I’ll be back before lunch.”

I’d only met Tarquin a handful of times but sensed that he was a kind, benevolent ruler. Still, I expected to meet with his officials before being granted access to his office but when he’d heard who was here to see him, he immediately made time for me.

By the end of our meeting, he’d granted me renewed citizenship in the Summer Court and wrote to Rhysand effectively barring Azriel from his court. Careful to not create tensions in the court, he revoked the current ban on Cassian so long as he could keep himself from destroying any more buildings within his court.

Despite my numb state, a small smile flickered across my face as I imagined Cassian’s reaction to the news. He wasn’t one to hold petty grudges but he certainly clung on to that of being banned from the Summer Court. I just hoped he wouldn’t be angry with me for leaving without saying goodbye.

Additionally, Tarquin discussed my skill set with me and by the end of the meeting I had been offered a paid position in teaching self-defense courses within the palace to a variety of age groups, primarily focusing on women and children. I brought few assets with me upon leaving the Night Court and my pride was too stubborn to withdraw any of the money from Azriel and I’s shared account when I left. No, I could do well enough on my own - thank you very much.

After the battle of Adriata, Tarquin had ramped up efforts of ensuring his citizens were better protected on all fronts so his offer was mutually beneficial for his court and me, ergo not solely extended out of pity. My pride beamed at that.

I gratefully accepted his offer.

—————

I returned home. Home? No, not home - to my grandmother’s house to find that my sister and nephew were there waiting for me.

“Oh my gods!!!!!” My sister Camila yelped. Practically tackling me.

“Gran! You didn’t tell me that Y/N was coming for lunch. You secretive old thing.”

Before he could say anything I swooped my nephew, Alex, up into my arms and - ouch, I was not as strong as I used to be because it was an effort to lift him. He’d grown at least a foot since the last time I’d seen him. A pang of guilt struck me out of my blissful state and back to reality at the thought. It had been far too long since I’d come to visit my family.

“Where’s Uncle Azriel?” he asked.

The question struck me like a knife. My expression faltering as I scrambled to regain composure. “He’s on a mission.” I lied.

My sister’s brows furrowed. She was always too good at reading me but thankfully she didn’t press further. I would talk to her when I was ready.

We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and catching up. Alex animatedly told me of school and all of his friends - I couldn’t help but smile as the warm summer breeze whisped over my exposed skin. The tea tasted a little bit sweeter, the air a little fresher, and the company a little warmer.

—————

“Y/N?”

Rhysand’s distant voice echoed into my mind as I lay down for bed that night. I always forgot how far his daemati abilities could carry.

“Hello, Rhys.”

“I received Tarquin’s letter. Azriel has been on edge all day and…. Well, I’m not going to ask you to share anything you don’t want to but - it must have been bad. Take all the time you need.”

“I’m not coming back, Rhys.”

The words rolled through me so quickly that I almost believed them but I knew I’d need closure at some point. For now, I wasn’t ready for that.

Seeming to sense that exact thought Rhys only replied, “Write me or Feyre if you need anything at all.”

—————

Who cries knowing you don’t care?

Night time always brought out stronger emotions in me. I’d keep my emotional barriers held high all day but as the sun set, so did those walls. As I lay in bed that night the first waves of grief blew through me. Not a wave of my own grief which had been omnipresent within me but… Azriel’s grief through our bond.

Of course it took me leaving for him to feel anything toward me through our own mating bond. I shut it down as effectively as I could and cried. Tears of anger flowed as I realized that my presence was never enough but my absence was what it took for him to give a damn about me.

Who worries what the future holds?

I grieved the future that could have been ours had he only chosen me. I let the sobs pour out once again as his pain rolled through me in waves. He couldn’t even extend the courtesy of shutting down his end of the bond as he came to grips with the ramifications of his own actions. His emotions only brought me bitterness and maybe that was a flaw on my end but it sure as hell felt justified. I spent so long giving him everything and even now, I still receive only heartache in return.

Who’s tired of empty promises?

He swore he’d love me forever but forever only meant until someone better came along. Certainly it wouldn’t be long before he returned to Elain for comfort. Would he be courteous enough to shut down the bond then or would I feel the pleasure she brought as she soothed his emotional wounds then too? As he healed and made the same empty promises to her that he had to me? Hell, had he already made those promises to her? Would he hold to them for her?

What would he do now that I’m gone?

What would I do now that I’m gone?

———————————————

A/N brace yourselves, we’re getting a different character’s POV in the next chapter 😏 🔥

Tags:

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26

[pucksandpower]

Eurovisionaries

Charles Leclerc x Monegasque singer!Reader

Summary: the “Charles Leclerc competes in Eurovision” fic no one asked for but I wrote anyway

Warnings: none that I can think of

“Why is Charles Leclerc trending in the music section?” You wonder aloud, eyes narrowing as you see the pop-up notification on your Twitter.

Opening the app, you’re met with a tweet from an official Eurovision updates account: “🇲🇨 #Monaco: Eligible to Compete in the #Eurovision Song Contest 2024.” Below it, Charles Leclerc, Monaco’s pride and F1 sensation extraordinaire, has replied to the tweet with a sly “I’m ready 🎤.”

You can’t help but laugh. The thought of Charles taking the Eurovision stage is hilarious. You respond to the tweet, “Ever considered a duet? Though I would advise keeping your day job for now 🏎️😉.” Notifications instantly start pouring in, a flurry of likes and retweets.

Your phone buzzes, a call from your manager, Rosa. “Did you see the Leclerc tweet?” She starts without preamble.

“Of course. The entire principality probably has by now,” you chuckle, imagining the reactions of Monegasque citizens.

Silence. A beat too long.

“What?” You probe, sensing her hesitance.

Rosa exhales deeply, “The Monegasque Eurovision committee called me.”

You sit up, “About the tweet?”

“More than that. They’re seriously considering him.”

“For Eurovision?” You're incredulous, “He’s a racer, not a singer.”

She hesitates, “That’s where you come in.”

A long pause ensues. The weight of her words settles around you. Rosa is never one for jokes, especially when it comes to your career.

“They want you to team up with him,” she continues, breaking the silence, “He can compose and play but they need a voice. Your voice.”

The gravity of the situation dawns on you. Representing Monaco in Eurovision is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity but with Charles? Someone you’ve only admired from afar on the circuit?

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You voice your concerns. “Our styles, our personalities ... they could clash.”

“It’s a risk, yes. But it’s also an opportunity. Both for your career and for Monaco,” Rosa reasons.

You look out of the window, the streets of Monaco stretching below. The pride of representing your nation battles with the uncertainty of this potentially bizarre partnership.

“I need some time, Rosa,” you whisper.

She understands. “Take all the time you need. But remember, some of the best things in life come from taking the most unexpected turns.”

As you hang up, Charles’ tweet flashes on your screen again, the confident smile in his profile picture making you wonder if this journey is one you should embark on.

***

“Are you sitting down?” Rosa’s voice is tense, filled with an urgency you rarely hear from her.

You shuffle around in your apartment, finding a chair by the window. “I am now. What’s up?”

She takes a deep breath, her exhale echoing over the line. “The committee’s made their decision. They want Charles Leclerc for Eurovision.”

You almost drop your phone. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was,” she replies, her tone betraying her surprise as much as yours. “And they want you to partner with him.”

The world seems to blur around you. Images of the grand Eurovision stage, the cheering crowds, and a sea of flags swirl through your mind, and the idea of standing there, alongside someone like Charles, is surreal.

“This is ...” you trail off, searching for words.

“Insane? Unprecedented? A media goldmine?” Rosa supplies, ever the pragmatist.

“All of the above.” The weight of the offer hangs between you, punctuated by the distant sounds of Monaco outside your window.

“What did you tell them?” You ask, after a moment of heavy silence.

“I told them we’d think about it,” Rosa says. “But darling, this is huge. For your career, for Charles, for Monaco!”

You sigh, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I’ve never even met him. What if we don’t click? What if we can’t perform together? What if—”

“What if you soar?” Rosa interrupts gently. “What if this is the push both of you need?”

You consider her words, the promise they hold. But the fear remains. “What if I fall?”

Rosa’s voice softens. “Then you get back up, just as you always have. But you won’t be doing it alone. You’ll have all of Monaco behind you.”

The conversation weighs on you long after you’ve hung up. Charles Leclerc, Monaco’s golden boy, and you? It feels like a dream, one you’re not sure you want to wake up from.

That night, as Monaco’s lights twinkle beneath your apartment, a notification lights up your phone. An email with an official Monegasque Eurovision committee letterhead:

We are pleased to extend to you an official invitation to represent Monaco at the Eurovision Song Contest 2024 in an act alongside Charles Leclerc. Details to follow.

The reality sets in. And it terrifies and thrills you in equal measure.

***

“Are you the singer?” The voice unmistakably belongs to Charles, though softer than the confident tone you’ve heard in his interviews.

You turn, your heart doing a tiny flip. He’s leaning against a grand piano in the center of the room, looking more perfect in casual jeans and a t-shirt than he has any right to. You have to remind yourself to breathe for a moment.

“Are you the racer?” You shoot back, attempting to mask your nervousness with humor.

He laughs, “Touche.”

Both of you approach the piano, the room filled with an almost tangible tension. He extends a hand. “Charles.”

You shake it, feeling the calloused fingertips, likely from handling the wheel so often. “I know. And you probably don’t know me, but ... it’s Y/N.”

“I’ve heard your songs on YouTube,” he admits, releasing your hand. “You have an incredible voice.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, surprised and flattered. “You … drive really fast?”

He laughs again, easing some of the tension. “I try.”

The two of you start the rehearsal, with Charles taking the lead on the piano. The notes are hauntingly beautiful, full of emotion. You find yourself getting lost in the music, your voice blending seamlessly with the tune.

But suddenly, Charles stops playing. “Sorry,” he says, a hint of frustration in his voice. “I’m not used to this. Playing in front of someone.”

You blink, taken aback. “You’re not used to performing?”

“Not like this. Racing, I get. This is … different,” he confesses, running a hand through his hair.

You nod, understanding his fear. “Let’s take it slow. We have time.”

He looks up, his eyes searching yours. “Do we? Eurovision is just around the corner and I will be away a lot of the time for races.”

You take a deep breath. “Every journey starts with a single step. Let’s just focus on today.”

You play and sing for hours, taking breaks when needed. The connection, while still tentative, starts to form. By the end of the session, a shaky version of your Eurovision song emerges.

“I think … I think we could actually pull this off,” Charles admits as you pack up.

“With a lot more practice,” you reply, smiling.

He grins, the confidence you expected from him back in full form. “Challenge accepted.”

Walking out of the studio, you can’t help but feel a tiny flutter of excitement. This partnership, as unlikely as it seemed, might just work.

***

“I’ve never been to this bistro,” Charles admits, looking around the quaint little place you’ve chosen.

“It’s a hidden gem. My little escape in Monaco,” you reply, sipping your tea. “Sometimes the noise of the city gets too much.”

He nods, fidgeting slightly. “I get that. For me, it’s the track. I love racing but our world can become ... suffocating sometimes.”

The vulnerability in his words surprises you. You’d always seen Charles as a fearless driver, not a man who needed an escape.

“You know,” you start, “I always thought you loved the thrill, the fame.”

He chuckles, but there’s a shadow in his eyes. “I love racing. The fame, not so much. I love the fans. I love Ferrari. But it’s overwhelming at times. Especially when the car is underperforming.”

You feel a connection in that moment, the shared weight of expectations. “Music is my escape. But sometimes, the pressure to always be on, to always perform ... it’s draining.”

He looks at you, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. “I never thought about it that way. We’re really quite similar, aren’t we?”

The conversation flows naturally after that, moving from work to personal interests. You discover shared hobbies, like a love for old movies, and differing opinions, like his disdain for pineapple on pizza which you adore.

“Pineapple on pizza is a crime,” he declares, feigning outrage.

“You have no taste!” You retort, laughing.

The afternoon slips away, the two of you lost in conversation. It feels like two old friends catching up, not two professionals thrown together by fate.

As you leave the bistro, Charles hesitates. “Would you like to come to a race sometime? See the action up close?”

You smile, touched by the offer. “Only if you come to one of my performances.”

He grins, “Deal.”

In the days that follow, your rehearsals gain a new depth. The newfound friendship seeps into your music, turning the notes and lyrics into pure emotion. The song evolves, reflecting the story of two individuals finding harmony in the most unexpected place.

Rosa notices the change too. “There’s a spark,” she comments one day, after a particularly moving session. “Both in the music and between you two.”

You blush, dismissing her with a wave. “It’s just the music.”

But as the days blur into nights and rehearsals become more intense, you can’t help but wonder if there’s truth in Rosa’s words.

***

“Is it always this chaotic?” Charles whispers, leaning close so only you can hear as you both step backstage of a popular talk show. Bright lights, cameras, and a bustling crew create a vibrant atmosphere of controlled chaos.

“Welcome to my world,” you reply with a smirk, feeling the familiar adrenaline of a live performance. “A bit different from the paddock, isn’t it?”

His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Just a tad.”

A producer approaches, positioning you and Charles for the interview. As you settle onto the couch, Charles’ arm grazes yours, sending an unexpected jolt of warmth up your arm.

The host, a vivacious woman named Martina, begins, “We have Monaco’s sensational Eurovision duo with us today! Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N. Tell us, how has this partnership been?”

Charles shoots you a glance. “Unexpected at first, certainly. But every moment has been an adventure. We’ve learned from each other and it is reflected in our music.”

You nod, adding, “It’s been a blend of two worlds. And the result is something neither of us anticipated but we have come to love.”

Martina’s gaze flits between both of you, sensing the underlying tension. “There’s undeniable chemistry between you two. It’s clear to me even now. Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Your heart races and you see Charles shift uncomfortably. The question, though posed in jest, holds an element of truth that neither of you has addressed.

“We’re focused on our music and representing Monaco to the best of our abilities,” Charles replies smoothly but the tips of his ears redden.

Martina, sensing a scoop, presses on, “But off the stage? Any sparks?”

You force a laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. “We’re just getting to know each other. Our priority is Eurovision.”

Once off the set, Charles runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you’ve come to recognize as his way of dealing with stress. “That was intense.”

“It’s just the beginning. The closer we get to Eurovision, the more questions like that we’ll get.”

He stops, turning to face you, his eyes intense. “What if there is some truth to their questions?”

The air grows thick, the world narrowing to just the two of you. “Charles ...”

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping. “I can’t ignore it anymore. Every time we’re together, there is this pull.”

Your breath catches, the confession echoing your own feelings. “I feel it too. But right now, everything is so complicated.”

He nods, looking defeated. “I know. Let’s just ... focus on the music for now.”

***

“Are these feathers?” Charles asks, a touch of panic evident as he examines the ornate costume handed to him.

“Welcome to Eurovision,” you say with a wry smile, adjusting the shimmering fabric of your own dress which seems to be a riot of sequins and colors, reflecting the vibrant spirit of the competition.

He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “This is a bit different from my usual race suit.”

You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Just wait till you see the pyrotechnics.”

The two of you stand backstage as acts from different countries, each more extravagant than the last, parade before you. The dazzling array of costumes, the eccentric set designs, and the sheer scale of the event are overwhelming.

Charles, sensing your nervousness, takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got this.”

You nod, leaning into his touch. The tension between the two of you has only grown, making moments like these all the more intense.

Suddenly, a voice announces, “Next up, representing Monaco, please welcome Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N!”

Your heart rate spikes. Charles leads you to the stage, the grand piano at its center surrounded by a sea of lights creating an ethereal atmosphere.

He starts playing, the haunting melody echoing in the cavernous venue. As you join in with your vocals, the world seems to fade away. It’s just the two of you, lost in the music.

The song builds to its climax. You move closer to Charles, the emotional depth of the lyrics pulling you in. The final note lingers and you find yourself drawn to him, your faces mere inches apart.

The audience, sensing the electricity between the two of you, erupts in a frenzy of cheers, pulling you back to reality. You share a charged glance with Charles, the applause deafening.

The performance, though only a few minutes, feels like a lifetime. As you walk off stage, Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “We did it.”

You bury your face in his chest, the heady mix of adrenaline and emotions making everything feel surreal. “We really did.”

***

“And the winner of the Eurovision Song Contest 2024 is ...” The host’s voice draws out, adding to the tension in the room, “Monaco!”

The words hit you like a tidal wave. The arena explodes in applause and cheers, bright lights flashing everywhere. Confetti starts to fall and the air is pure magic.

Charles, equally stunned, turns to you, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Is this real?” He breathes, pulling you into a tight embrace.

Overwhelmed, you cling to him, the weight of your accomplishment settling in. You won Eurovision.

Breaking the hug, Charles lifts you in sheer joy, spinning you around, the world blurring past. Both of you are laughing, tears of joy mingling with the glitter on your face.

As the celebrations continue, you spot the Italian competitors cheering raucously. Somehow, they’ve managed to pull out a Ferrari flag, waving it as proudly as if they had won.

Charles notices too, laughing. “They really do love their racing.”

You smirk, nudging him playfully. “Or maybe they just love their racer.”

The moment is interrupted as you’re whisked away for the winner’s interview and your encore. But the mania doesn’t stop the two of you from sharing stolen glances and smiles.

Later that night, as the euphoria begins to die down, Charles finds you on a balcony overlooking the city. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?” He murmurs, joining you by the railing.

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Winning was the dream. I didn’t think about what would come after.”

He chuckles, “You and me both.”

The night stretches before you, the city lights twinkling like stars. You lean into Charles, drawing comfort from his presence. “What now?”

He takes a moment to think. “Now, we take on the world together.”

***

“I wrote something last night,” Charles says hesitantly. The two of you sit in his apartment, the aftermath of your Eurovision win still a fresh memory.

You tilt your head, intrigued. “For the piano?”

He nods. “But it’s more personal than anything else I’ve composed. I was thinking ... maybe you could add lyrics to it?”

Curious, you watch as he moves to the piano he has against the wall, his fingers delicately dancing on the keys. The melody is raw, filled with emotion. It speaks of longing, of new beginnings, of unspoken feelings.

It’s beautiful.

“That’s incredible,” you breathe once he finishes.

He looks up, vulnerability evident in his eyes. “It's how I feel. About all of this. About you.”

The confession hangs in the air, a delicate thread connecting the two of you.

“I’ve been feeling the same,” you admit, your heart racing. “I wrote some lyrics too. But I didn’t have the melody for them. Maybe ...”

You share the words you penned down, the emotions you felt towards Charles clear as day. Together, the two of you create a song, a musical odyssey of the path you’ve walked together and the deepening connection between you.

Hours pass, the world outside forgotten. The song takes shape, evolving with every note and word.

Charles breaks the silence, his voice soft, “This is special.”

You nod, feeling the weight of the moment. “It is.”

He moves closer, the space between you disappearing. “Every moment with you is.”

Your heart flutters, the intensity of his gaze making you breathless. “Charles ...”

But he silences you with a gentle touch, his fingers brushing your cheek. The world seems to stand still as he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

It’s a new beginning, a promise of what’s to come.

***

“I’m so nervous,” you confess, wringing your hands. The roar of the crowd outside, waiting for the Monaco Grand Prix to begin, is deafening.

Charles pulls you into a comforting hug. “It’s just singing the national anthem. You’ve performed on much bigger stages.”

“But not in front of the entire racing community and Monegasque royalty,” you counter. The idea of serenading the beginning of Monaco’s most prestigious race, especially with Charles being one of the contenders, fills you with anxiety.

He smirks. “You’re worrying about a three-minute song when I have to race for nearly two hours?”

You punch his arm playfully, “Oh, hush. You love it too much to complain.”

His expression turns serious and he takes your hands in his. “It’s just like any other performance but this time, for our people. Focus on that.”

His words sink in. You’re not just singing for the crowd. You’re singing for Monaco. For Charles.

As you step out, the sun glints off the polished cars lined up for the race. The noise is deafening but one look at Charles, his eyes filled with pride, grounds you.

Drawing a deep breath, you begin. Your voice, clear and strong, rises above the commotion, capturing the spirit of Monaco. The crowd falls silent, lost in the beauty of the moment.

When you finish, the applause is thunderous. Charles rushes over, lifting you off the ground in a bear hug. “That was incredible,” he whispers in your ear.

You laugh, the tension from before dissipating. “Now go win the race.”

He winks. “Only if you promise to sing for me every time.”

***

“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t tweeted that day?” Charles muses, lying next to you on a grassy hill overlooking the city. The stars twinkle above, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.

You chuckle softly, turning to face him. “I would probably be preparing for another solo concert but not much would change for you. You’d still be busy reveling in your racing glory.”

He grins, playfully nudging you. “So you admit I brought excitement to your life?”

You roll your eyes. “Excitement, chaos, media frenzy ... take your pick.”

Silence settles between you two, comfortable yet filled with words unspoken. The city lights below seem distant, the world reduced to just this moment.

Charles breaks the silence. “I can’t imagine my life without you now.”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. “Neither can I. It’s been a wild ride.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “A ride I would relive in a heartbeat.”

“Charles,” you begin, gathering your thoughts, “we’ve been through so much together and I cherish every moment. But we also need to think about our future. The media attention, the expectations ... it’s a lot.”

He nods, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know. But we'll face it together. Like we have from the start.”

The promise in his voice fills you with warmth. “Together,” you echo, sealing the commitment.

***

“You’re not serious,” Silvia’s voice cuts through the room. “It’s the biggest sponsorship event of the season. For Ferrari! You can’t miss it.”

Charles looks torn, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Y/N’s first major solo concert. She’s been there for me, every step of the way. I need to be there for her.”

You feel a pang of guilt. “Charles, I understand the importance. If you can’t make it—”

He interrupts, looking you straight in the eyes. “This isn’t just about the concert. It’s about us. About our priorities.”

The room is thick with tension. On your side, Rosa, always the mediator, attempts to defuse the situation. “There must be a way to do both.”

Charles shakes his head resolutely. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Silvia looks at him, her eyes pleading. “You know the implications of this, right?”

He nods, swallowing hard. “I do. However mad the sponsor may be will be worth it.”

Later, the two of you find a quiet corner.

“You didn’t have to,” you whisper.

He pulls you close, his touch reassuring. “But I wanted to. More than anything.”

You look up, eyes glassy. “Why?”

“Because,” he starts, searching for the right words, “these races, these events ... they will always be there. But moments like your concert, they are once in a lifetime. And I don’t want to miss a single second of our journey together.”

The emotion of his words takes your breath away. “Charles ...”

He places a finger on your lips, silencing you. “I love you.”

The words hang in the air. Voice choked with emotion, you reply. “I love you too.”

***

“Do you ever think how surreal all of this is?” Charles murmurs, both of you backstage at the 2025 Eurovision finals, invited back as guest performers. The arena pulsates with excitement, the memories of your victorious performance still fresh in many minds.

You laugh, adjusting your dress. “Every single day. Especially today, coming full circle.”

He takes your hand, the spark between you as electric as ever. “It feels like just yesterday we were thrown into this wild ride.”

A stagehand signals that it’s almost time. The two of you take your positions, the familiar chords of your winning song filling the air. The audience roars in approval, their cheers echoing the joy of that fateful night.

As the final note lingers, you turn to Charles, preparing for the bows. But he isn’t sitting behind the piano. Instead, he’s down on one knee, a small velvet box in hand.

The realization hits you like a tidal wave, your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

Charles speaks loud enough for the world to hear, “From the moment we met, I knew my life had changed forever. I can’t imagine a day without you by my side. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

Tears stream down your face, every emotion amplified. “Yes. I want that more than anything,” you manage to whisper.

He slips the ring onto your finger and the world fades away as his lips find yours. You see the Italian delegation cheering wildly out of the corner of your eye and can’t help but laugh. The hosts may have changed. The competitors may have changed. But the love of Italians for il Predestinato will always live on. They’ll have to get in line, though. You just officially claimed the title of his biggest fan.

[daisyblog]

Darling, I Fancy You

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry’s reaction to YN’s TikTok rant about him at Paris Fashion week.

Read Paris Lover first.

Based on this request.

Although Harry kept under the radar when it came to his social media, only posting on rare occasions, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t snoop in the background. He called it the silent scroller. His TikTok was simply used to scroll the for you page. His profile had no official username or purpose apart from seeing what others were saying.

He’d just got back to his hotel room after spending the day and evening at Paris Fashion show. He was so grateful for all these opportunities but since Grace was born it meant he was leaving two people behind.

Harry casually scrolled through TikTok as he comfortably laid in the large king size bed, when YN’s video appeared. Naturally his smile flourished on his face as he saw his wife.

“Guys…I’m at home with Grace and Harry’s gone to Paris for Fashion week”. YN sat forward in her chair and leaned her chin on her folded hands.

It was moments like this that Harry really felt the homesickness, despite only seeing both YN and Grace late last night before leaving early this morning to catch his flight. He wanted to be a part of the bedtime routine, feed Grace a bottle before they say goodnight and give her a cuddle as she falls asleep in his arms.

“And…Grace has gone to bed now so I was scrolling through Instagram and TikTok and…and I see photos of Harry in Paris”.

The look YN gives the camera at the mention of Harry made him laugh, as he rested his head against the headboard.

“But I’m sat here thinking that man is me husband and the father of me daughter…he’s absolutely fookin’ rocking the outfit…the look…the mustache…aww don’t get me started on that…and then I look at myself and I’m covered in baby sick…still in last nights pyjamas…haven’t showered and my hair hasn’t been brushed…how am I that lucky?”.

“And you’re still beautiful baby!”. Harry mumbled to himself.

“Basically what I am trying to say is…I really fancy me husband and I should probably go and shower whilst I have the chance…and I don’t know if it’s me hormones since having Grace but whenever I look at Harry…I just think WAW…what a handsome looking man…and he’s mine”.

”Awww baby…why are you so perfect…but I’m not going to complain about the horny hormones!”. The mumbling continued.

“Do you think it’s too soon to have another baby because after seeing the photos my ovaries are screaming!”.

“It’s never too early…especially when we make babies like Grace!”.

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