#the fact that their kids are so close is warming my heart
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pretty-sparkle-bomb · 17 hours ago
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Heya! My area just had a really nice snow so it gave me a cute idea.
Can you write a oneshot where fem reader x Bakugo are outside heading back to the dorms or something and the reader initiates a snowball fight? They both like each other but the other doesn't know it but maybe they fall in the snow or something and Katsuki can't hold back his feelings anymore? 🥰🥰
I also really like Kirishima, he doesnt get enough love, so maybe one for him too? (If you want to and have time of course!) Thank you and I hope you have a nice weekend!
Fun fact: I have never touched snow before.
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"Cold Hands, Warm Hearts"
Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining
The walk back to the dorms was peaceful, the fresh snowfall muffling the usual noise of the city. Streetlights bathed everything in a soft golden glow, and the air was crisp and clean.
Beside you, Katsuki walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his breath visible in the cold air. He wasn’t complaining, but you could tell by the slight furrow of his brows that he was impatient to get inside.
Which made it the perfect time to strike.
You bent down ever so slightly, scooping up a handful of snow, compacting it just enough to make a solid snowball.
And then—
SMACK!
The snowball exploded against Katsuki's shoulder.
He froze. Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head to look at you, eyes wide with disbelief. You, on the other hand, were biting your lip to hold back a giggle, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"The hell was that?"
You shrugged innocently. "A snowball fight, obviously."
"You little—"
You didn’t wait for him to finish before you launched another one, this time aimed at his chest. He dodged it last second, and suddenly, the air changed.
Oh, you were so screwed.
"Alright, shortstack," Bakugo growled, crouching down to grab a handful of snow. His smirk was sharp, his red eyes glinting dangerously. "You wanna play? Let’s play."
You yelped and tried to run, but it was too late. A snowball hit your back, another against your thigh, and before you could retaliate, Katsuki tackled you into the snow with a triumphant cackle.
A very ungraceful squeak left your lips as you landed beneath him, the cold seeping into your clothes. His weight was carefully balanced, so he wasn’t crushing you, but he was definitely trapping you.
The laughter died down, leaving only the sound of your breaths mingling in the crisp air.
You became painfully aware of how close he was—his warm breath fanning against your cheek, his hands bracing on either side of your head. His red eyes were softer now, gazing at you like you were something fragile.
"Y’know," he muttered, his voice low, "you’re a real pain in the ass."
You swallowed, suddenly shy. "Yeah... but you love it."
He let out a short chuckle. "Yeah," he admitted, voice quieter now. "I do."
Your breath hitched.
Then, before you could even process what was happening, his lips were on yours—warm and firm, completely at odds with the freezing cold surrounding you.
It wasn’t rushed or aggressive like you might’ve expected. It was sweet—like he had been holding this in for far too long and couldn’t stand another second without kissing you.
When he finally pulled away, his cheeks were pink—not just from the cold.
"You gonna keep throwin’ snowballs at me now?" he muttered, resting his forehead against yours.
You grinned, eyes twinkling. "Only if you promise to tackle me again."
Damn snowball fights.
Maybe this one wasn't so bad though.
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"Snowball Smiles"
Pairing: Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining
The first snowfall of the season always made Eijiro feel like a kid again. The way the snow crunched under his boots, how the world felt softer under its icy blanket—it was the kind of thing that made him wanna do something fun.
Luckily, you had the same idea.
"Hey, Eiji!"
Eijiro turned at the sound of your voice—just in time for a snowball to smack right into his chest. For a second, he just stood there, blinking in surprise. Then his lips curled into a slow, dangerous grin.
"Ohhh, you are so done."
Before you could react, he was already scooping up a handful of snow. You squeaked and tried to run, but he was fast—he launched a snowball right at your back, laughing as you let out a dramatic gasp.
"Traitor!" you shouted, giggling as you spun around and threw another one.
What followed was a full-on war. Snowballs flew through the air, both of you laughing as you dodged and retaliated. Eijiro cheeks were flushed—not just from the cold, but from how beautiful you looked, all bundled up and laughing, your breath visible in the air.
Then, just as you were about to throw another, he lunged—
And you both went down.
You landed in the snow with a soft oof, Kirishima’s arms wrapped around you protectively as he cushioned the fall.
For a moment, everything stilled.
You were so close. Your nose was pink from the cold, your lips slightly parted in surprise, eyes wide as you looked up at him.
And damn, if he wasn’t already head over heels, this moment sealed it.
"...Uh," he started, voice unusually soft. "Guess I win, huh?"
You raised a brow. "You call this winning?"
"Yeah," he murmured, gaze dropping to your lips for just a second before flicking back to your eyes. "Because now I don’t have to hold back anymore."
Then he kissed you.
It was warm and a little clumsy, but who was complaining? His lips were slightly chapped from the cold, but you didn’t care—not when he kissed you like he meant it, like he had been waiting for this for so long.
When he pulled back, his grin was blinding.
"So, uh… do I still gotta throw another snowball, or can we just stay like this for a bit?"
You giggled, looping your arms around his neck. "I think we can stay like this for a bit."
And just like that, Kirishima decided—snowball fights? Best thing ever.
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This kinda melts my heart🎀
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ninallthatjazz · 1 year ago
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WAIT -
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WHAT???!?
What does that mean Georgia??!?
Have the Sheens moved to London??
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, NEIGHBOURS GEORGIA???
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xo100 · 3 months ago
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Hey, can you write about landos gf breaking her arm and him taking care of her? like having to help her change and shower, doing her hair und stuff line that? thank you <3
In his care - LN4
*:・゚ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!
*:・゚ Word count: 1562
masterlist / community / request
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౨ৎ
Lando Norris had always been the playful, light-hearted boyfriend, the type to tease and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But after three years together, there was a depth to your relationship that went beyond just the banter and the fun. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, and now, your caretaker.
You hadn’t expected to be in this position—broken arm in a sling, unable to do even the most basic things without help. It was a stupid accident, really. A slip, a fall, and now you were stuck in this uncomfortable, frustrating situation. But as it turned out, Lando was more than up for the challenge of taking care of you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.
-
The first real test came on day one, when it was time for you to shower. Lando, always the playful one, had teased you when he realized you’d need help.
“So, I get to see you naked... and it’s for ‘medical reasons’? Lucky me,” he said with a wink, earning him an eye-roll from you.
“Lando,” you groaned, cheeks flushing. “This isn’t exactly a fun situation, you know.”
But even as you complained, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lightening even the most awkward moments. His teasing helped take your mind off the discomfort and frustration of not being able to do things on your own. Lando knew when to joke, and when to be serious.
“I’m kidding, love,” he said, his tone softening as he walked over to you. “I’ve got you, okay?”
And he did. Gently, he helped you undress, his fingers careful around your arm. There was something about the way he moved—confident yet delicate—that made you feel safe. Vulnerable, yes, but never embarrassed. He was Lando, your Lando, and there was no one else you trusted more.
Once you were under the warm spray of water, he joined you, shampooing your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. It was a strange, intimate experience, but not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. In fact, it was sweet.
“Maybe I should do this for you more often,” he murmured, lips close to your ear.
“You think I’ll let you wash my hair when I’m fully capable?” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.
He chuckled, his breath warm on your neck. “You never know, you might like the service.”
But as much as he teased, there was genuine care in the way he handled you. He washed every inch of your body with the gentleness you never knew he had. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest for a moment, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“For what?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“For being... you.”
-
You never realized how hard it was to do something as simple as put your hair in a ponytail with one hand. By the third day, you were ready to give up on the idea of leaving the house with your hair looking decent. But, of course, Lando wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said, determination in his voice as he picked up your hairbrush and an elastic.
You sat in front of him, trying to keep still while he struggled to gather your hair into something resembling a ponytail. The concentration on his face was adorable—his tongue poking out a little as he focused on the task at hand.
“Lando, it’s fine,” you said after the third attempt. “I can just wear it down.”
“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m getting this right.”
It took another few tries, but eventually, he managed to pull your hair into a somewhat lopsided ponytail. He grinned proudly, admiring his work in the mirror behind you.
“Look at that! I’m a pro,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.
You laughed, reaching up with your good hand to touch the ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but it was endearing in its imperfection.
“I love it,” you said sincerely.
He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your good shoulder. “Told you I’d take care of you.”
“You’re doing a great job, babe.”
-
As the days went on, Lando had to help you with more than just your hair. Getting dressed with one hand was a nightmare, and you hated having to rely on him for something so simple. But Lando, being the cheeky guy he was, turned it into something fun.
“Alright, love, what’ll it be today?” he asked, holding up two of your shirts. “Sexy red or casual blue?”
You gave him a pointed look. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Lando.”
He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re always impressing me, though.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words. He knew exactly how to make you feel special, even when you were at your most vulnerable.
“Blue,” you said with a sigh, and he grinned.
Helping you get dressed was, of course, another challenge. He was gentle but still fumbled a bit, trying not to hurt your arm as he guided it through the sleeve.
“Sorry, sorry!” he muttered as he accidentally tugged too hard on your sling.
You laughed through the discomfort. “You’re not great at this, huh?”
“Hey! I’m doing my best here,” he protested, but there was no real frustration in his voice. He was patient with you, and that was what mattered.
Once you were dressed, he stepped back to admire his work.
“Not bad, huh?” he said, a proud smile on his face.
“Not bad at all,” you agreed, and he leaned down to kiss you softly.
-
By the end of the week, you were starting to feel a little more like yourself, but the pain in your arm was still a constant reminder of your injury. Lando, ever the attentive boyfriend, noticed when you were getting frustrated or tired, and he was always there to offer comfort.
That evening, you were lying on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when Lando plopped down beside you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, careful of your injured arm, and snuggled up close.
“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice soft in your ear.
“Yeah,” you sighed. “Just... tired of this.”
“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you’re doing great. And I’m here, okay? For as long as you need me.”
You smiled, leaning into him. His warmth, his presence—it was everything you needed. You didn’t have to ask for his help; he just gave it freely, without hesitation.
As you lay there together, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on your back, you realized how lucky you were. Not just because he was helping you through this injury, but because he was Lando. The man who loved you unconditionally, who saw you at your weakest and still made you feel strong.
“Love you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.
“Love you more,” he replied softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
And in that moment, broken arm and all, you felt more loved than ever.
-
As your arm started to heal, you began to regain some independence, but that didn’t stop Lando from taking every opportunity to tease you. He seemed to enjoy his new role as caretaker a little too much, and he never missed a chance to flirt.
One afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut up some fruit with your good hand. Lando walked in, immediately taking the knife from you.
“Let me help,” he said, leaning in close.
“I can do it,” you protested, though you didn’t exactly mind when he was this close to you.
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but I do it better, don’t I?”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. He knew exactly how to get under your skin, but in the best way.
As he cut up the fruit, he stole glances at you, his smile never fading. “You know,” he said casually, “taking care of you has been... kind of fun.”
“Oh, has it now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he said, sliding a piece of fruit toward you. “I mean, I get to spend all this extra time with you, take care of you, shower with you...”
“Lando!” you laughed, swatting at him with your good hand.
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just saying, maybe I should be your personal nurse more often.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but your heart swelled with love for him.
“I know,” he replied, his voice soft as he looked into your eyes. “But you love me for it.”
And he was right.
౨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!
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witchywithwhiskey · 6 months ago
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a birthday ended with a bang
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pairing: best friend!steve rogers x female reader
summary: your best friend picks you up for some ice cream on his birthday on the fourth of july and things escalate.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, sexual tension, kissing, dry humping/dry sex, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine, baby), aftercare, very quick friends to lovers
word count: 4.1k
a/n: ooof i have been suffering from the worst writer's block and i seriously didn't think i was gonna be able to post anything for steve's birthday, which would've made me so sad. i finally got through the worst of it i think, as of yesterday, but so this was written in a rush and i'm sorry if it's not very good but i tried!!!! anyway i hope everyone has a happy steve's birthday ❤️🤍💙
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I’m picking you up in 10.
It was just after sunset on the Fourth of July, the sky still fading from a glowing indigo into the deep midnight blue of night, when the text from your best friend Steve Rogers came through. 
His text came as a surprise. Steve had been scheduled to work all day and he’d said he just wanted to go home and sleep after, so you hadn’t thought you’d see him. Instead, you had plans to celebrate his birthday on the weekend, but you’d have been a liar if you’d said you weren’t disappointed you wouldn’t get to see him on his actual birthday.
So you were excited by his text—but less so by the implication he would be taking you somewhere.
After all, you’d already gotten comfy and cozy in your bed, wearing a skimpy tank top and shorts you’d sleep in, and you didn’t want to get dressed again. Thankfully, you knew Steve wouldn’t care what you wore, but you were a nice friend, so as you dragged yourself out of your comfortable bed, you sent him a warning. 
i’m already in my pjs
By the time he replied, five minutes had already gone by. You’d managed to collect your keys and wallet from your bag, shoving them in a little wristlet that you looped around your arm as you stuffed your feet into some sandals. You read his text as you pushed through the door to your little cottage, prepared to wait the other five minutes for him in the cool July evening. 
Idc what you’re wearing. It’s my birthday and we’re getting ice cream.
You snorted a laugh, hearing your best friend’s bossy tone in your head, shaking your head to yourself at how much you loved it while you locked your door. Shoving your phone in your wristlet, you sat down on the top step of your porch and watched the neighborhood kids run through the yards along the street waving sparklers through the air.
Steve’s truck rolled to a stop in front of your small yard exactly 10 minutes after he’d texted you. An easy smile pulled up the corners of your mouth and you bounded down your wooden stairs, hurling yourself into the cab of your best friend’s truck.
“Happy birthday!” you cried as soon as you were inside. You tossed your wristlet on the dash and slid across the bench seat to throw your arms around Steve’s neck, hugging him tight while you pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. 
His low laugh was like warm honey trickling down your spine, his breath skimming past your cheek and making goosebumps raise all up and down your arms. Your heart thumped in your chest and you buried your face in your best friend’s shoulder, ignoring the way your body was reacting—like it always did when you got too close to Steve. 
Seemingly unaware of your plight, Steve’s hand settled on your forearm, squeezing softly before his warm palm slid up to your shoulder, his other arm digging into the seat and wrapping around your waist to haul you closer. You let out a little squeak of surprise, burying your face further in his shoulder to hide the fact that you were enjoying the way he held you far too much. 
“Thank you, sunshine,” Steve rumbled, resting his head on the crown of yours as he hugged you back. For a long, long moment, the two of you sat entwined together in Steve’s truck, just enjoying the feeling of being close, though you suspected it meant much more to you than it did to your best friend.
Finally, when you realized the hug might be getting weird, and bordering on something more-than-friendly, you extricated yourself from Steve, smiling up at him as you broke the quiet. “Let’s go get some ice cream,” you said, your voice a little lower and raspier than normal as you stared into his achingly familiar blue eyes. 
A grin spread slowly across Steve’s face, and you felt your heart beat unsteadily in your chest at the devastating handsomeness of the expression. But thankfully Steve looked away and your lungs spasmed, begging you to breathe, so you sucked in some air while your best friend grabbed a ball of fabric from the backseat of his truck.
“Here, I’ve got the windows down,” he said, pushing the garment into your hands. 
Only when you shook it out did you see it was one of Steve’s hoodies, the navy blue sweatshirt massive to fit over your best friend’s broad shoulders. On the front, to one side and below the collar, Steve’s name was stitched into the cotton. Your heart gave another flip at the thought of wearing Steve’s name stitched over your chest. 
“I don’t want you getting cold,” your best friend murmured, his voice lower and rougher. When you looked back at him, Steve wore an expression you couldn’t quite interpret, his gaze almost possessive. It made something low in your belly squirm.
Swallowing thickly, you turned your attention to tugging the hoodie over your head, inhaling the familiar scent of Steve’s cologne. For the brief moment when your face was hidden, you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling your body heat—from more than just the warmth of the sweatshirt. Then you pulled the fabric down over your head and stuffed your arms into the sleeves.
The hoodie was big on you, but you loved the feel of it, and you smiled up at Steve to show your appreciation. Your best friend was wearing a pleased smirk, his eyes a little hooded as they raked over the sight of you in his sweatshirt. 
“Looks good on you, sunshine,” he rumbled, something new in his tone that you’d never heard before. 
“Thanks, Stevie,” you whispered shyly, wrapping your arms around yourself. You felt a little awkward under the weight of his gaze, his eyes feeling like they were burning you up from the inside out, so you gave your best friend a goofy grin and said, “Now’m all nice and toasty.” 
Steve snorted a laugh, which broke the tension between the two of you, the mood in the truck lightening instantly. Shaking his head and wiping a hand over his face, Steve turned back to the steering wheel, and shifted his truck into drive.
You started to move into the passenger seat, intent on buckling up, but Steve’s big hand shot out and he grabbed your thigh, just below where the hem of your pajama shorts ended. His palm was warm, his fingers slightly rough with callouses, and you were immediately, acutely aware of the fact that Steve had never, ever touched you there before.
Heat crashed through your core as you sucked in a gasp of surprise. Instinctively, your fingers closed around your best friend’s wrist, holding him where he was, making sure he kept touching you. You stared down at his hand, your mind spinning a little at the sight of him clutching your thigh.
Steve’s fingers dug lightly into your thigh, almost reflexively, like he couldn’t help himself from seeing just how soft you were beneath his hand. Before you could do more than squeak out a quiet sound of delight, though, Steve pulled away and cleared his throat. The fingers of the hand that had been touching you curled and flexed like he already missed your softness.
“Want you close,” Steve muttered, his tone almost apologetic, like was asking for forgiveness for grabbing you so suddenly. His eyes dropped to somewhere near your feet and you watched as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Please, sunshine.” His plea was rough and so quiet you had a hard time hearing it over the sound of the fireworks your neighbors were setting off at random intervals.
“‘Course, Steve,” you said, your own voice soft and breathy, almost sounding sultry to your ears. You swallowed to wash away some of the throatiness, and tried to put on a light, friendly tone to steer you and Steve back to something normal—not whatever alternate universe you’d entered when you’d gotten in his truck. “You want birthday cuddles, you’ll get birthday cuddles.”
Steve let out a small snort and, as you watched, a tension you hadn’t realized had been there drained from his shoulders. Your best friend’s eyes raised back to yours, a flicker of something restless and reckless coursing through you while a small smirk tugged at the corners of his soft lips. 
“Yeah, sunshine, gimme some birthday cuddles.” 
When you’d said the words, they had sounded friendly, innocent even. But there was something in Steve’s voice that sent a shiver racing down your spine, heat simmering between your thighs. You told yourself he hadn’t intended his words to have such a reaction and pushed your body’s desirous response to the back of your mind as you shifted into the middle seat.
Carefully, you tucked yourself into Steve’s side, wrapping your arms around his bicep and clinging to him like he was your favorite stuffed animal. The bare skin of your leg brushed against the rough denim of his jeans and you trembled slightly, the sensation feeling far more erotic than it should. Steve’s hand landed on your leg just above your knee.
It was, ostensibly, a much more friendlier grip on you, but you felt arousal flare, hot and quick, in your core. Again, you ignored it and tipped your face up, planting your chin on the edge of Steve’s broad shoulder as you smiled up at him. Steve ducked down, kissing your nose and making you giggle, seemingly back to his normal self—your slightly silly best friend.
“Alright, let’s get some ice cream,” Steve rumbled, repeating your words while he gave your knee a squeeze, using his other hand to turn his truck around on your street and head in the direction of town.
There was a slight chill in the air as it swirled through the open windows of the truck cab, the heat of the July day having burned off and leaving only the coolness of night. Thanks to Steve’s hoodie, and the way your body was pressed into his warmth, you didn’t feel anything but comfortable, the breeze tickling your cheeks and making you smile. 
For a little while, you rode in silence with your best friend, but your mind kept straying to the feeling of Steve’s hand on your leg, to the memory of him gripping your thigh. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his big hands roaming all over your body, groping your thighs and hips…and other things. 
To distract yourself, you raised your voice above the wind and asked, “How was work?”
“It was fine,” Steve answered, his deep rumble sending a tremor of delight through your body. 
His eyes were on the road since he was navigating his truck through the town where you both lived, making turns to get to the small ice cream shop that would be open late for the holiday business. Still, Steve managed to shoot you a smile that made your insides flutter as he went on. 
“I would’ve much rather gone to the fair with you, though.”
A melty, gooey heat swirled in your belly and you squeezed his arm in yours, hiding a big, beaming grin in your best friend’s shoulder at his comment. When you managed to get control of yourself so you didn’t look like a lovesick fool, you raised your face again.
“We’re going on Saturday,” you reminded him, still smiling a little goofily. “Are you going to win me a new stuffie?” 
“Sunshine,” Steve started, using one hand to turn his truck into the small parking lot of the ice cream shop. “I’m going to win you all the stuffies.” His voice was warm and affectionate and you couldn’t help the way your heart beat unsteadily at his promise. Your best friend was none the wiser, though, as he parked his truck and turned to you. “C’mon.”
Steve helped you climb down from his truck, lacing his fingers through yours as you walked into the shop. It was busy, families and groups of friends getting some last-minute ice cream before heading over to the fireworks just outside of town. Steve and you fell into an easy conversation, your best friend asking you about your day to pass time while you waited in line. 
Once it was your turn to order, you asked for your favorite in a cone, then Steve got a couple scoops of dark chocolate in a sugar cone. You fought with Steve over who was going to pay. He insisted he should pay because he’d dragged you out of bed, and you argued it was his birthday and there was no way you were going to let him pay. 
Unfortunately, Steve’s arms were longer than yours and he was able to shove his card across the counter farther than you could. Grumbling about your stubborn best friend, you dropped a couple dollars into the tip jar and grabbed your ice cream. Steve followed you out, laughing at your poutiness and led you back to his truck, opening the driver side door for you and holding your cone while you got in.
Without being asked, you sat in the middle seat again, and held Steve’s ice cream while he drove, pushing it in his face whenever it started dripping. Both of you were laughing at the ridiculousness of him licking up the dripping ice cream while trying to drive by the time Steve pulled onto a dirt road that led up a hill beyond the edge of town.
After a few minutes, the trees parted into a clearing at the top of the hill and Steve rolled his truck to a stop, putting it in park overlooking the field where the town’s Fourth of July fireworks display would be. Wordlessly, you handed him his ice cream and the two of you sat in comfortable silence waiting for the show to begin while you enjoyed your sweet treat together. 
Steve finished his cone first, and you could feel his gaze on you while you licked up the last remnants of creamy goodness. You popped the last little bit of your cone into your mouth with a satisfied hum, your tongue licking sticky sweetness from your lips. 
“You have something on your…” Steve trailed off when you turned to him, his eyes dropping to your mouth and sliding along the curve of them. 
You felt his gaze like a physical thing, heat settling heavily in your core as warmth bloomed between your thighs. Then his thumb was following the the path of his eyes, swiping away some ice cream from the edge of your mouth that your tongue hadn’t been able to reach. 
Acting on impulse, and not questioning where it came from, you chased after Steve’s thumb, your tongue darting out to click the sweetness from the pad of his finger. Since your eyes were fixed on your best friend’s face, you watched his blue gaze darken and go heavy-lidded, his own mouth falling open with surprise. 
Heat filled your cheeks, making your face feel like it was on fire. “Umm,” you said, not knowing what else to say. 
It was on the tip of your tongue to apologize for licking your best friend, but just then, the first boom, pop and fizzle of fireworks sounded. Dazzling red light distracted you from Steve for a moment, dragging your eyes away to watch the fireworks display begin. You’d jumped at the first boom, the loud noise surprising you.
It was nothing, though, compared to the shock you felt when Steve grabbed your face, turned you back to him and ducked his head to capture your lips in a fierce kiss. Air filled your lungs as you sucked in a sharp breath, your body frozen while you sat there stunned, unable to do anything but feel the softness of Steve’s lips against yours.
Another sharp boom from overhead shocked you enough to make you jump again, and suddenly you remembered how to move. Your hands curled into the front of Steve’s shirt, clinging to him as you surged forward, pressing your lips harder against your best friend’s. 
Steve groaned low in his throat and your response seemed to unleash something within your best friend. Between one breath and the next, he was hauling you into his lap, your legs were straddling his thighs and his mouth was doing its best to devour yours.
You could taste the chocolate on his tongue as it slipped between your lips, exploring every inch of you and stroking against your own. Giddy excitement and heated desire swirled through your body, making you feel like you could float away as you and your best friend tasted and explored each other. 
Your hands uncurled from Steve’s shirt and slid up his shoulders, diving into the soft blond hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned again when you raked your nails softly against his scalp, his mouth going soft and slack as tremors of delight wracked his broad shoulders. 
“Fuck, sunshine,” Steve grunted, his hands pushing beneath the hem of the hoodie you wore so he could grope your hips. You rocked into him, wringing another moan of pleasure from your best friend when your heated core pressed against the bulge in his jeans. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about feeling you like this.”
“Steve, I—”
Your response was cut short by your best friend’s teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you whine and grind harder against his lap. Steve swallowed your sounds of pleasure, his big hands groping and kneading the soft flesh of your hips and thighs like he couldn’t get enough. It was better than you ever could’ve imagined.
“That’s it, sunshine, ride your best friend’s bulge,” Steve rumbled, a little bit of teasing in his tone. His lips trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He sucked on the skin over your pounding pulse, pulling a whimpering sound from your mouth that was unlike any noise you’d ever made. “Ya gonna come on my cock, baby? Gonna come before we even take our clothes off?”
Your best friend’s filthy words poured over you like gasoline on a fire, turning the heat in your blood into a raging inferno. “Steve, god, please, I need…” You tried to form a coherent thought, your lips gasping for breath in between every false start, your hips working harder and faster as you chased your pleasure.
“Good girl, baby, take what you need,” Steve cooed in your ear, his hands slipping beneath your tank top and groping your tits. He plucked at your nipples, rolling the pebbled peaks between his fingers and making your eyes roll back in your head, your loud moans filling the cab of his truck and nearly drowning out the sounds of the fireworks from the field beyond. “Ride my bulge, sunshine, make yourself come all over my cock.” 
You were making a mess in your panties and shorts, your arousal soaking through the thin garments until you were certain you were leaving a wet spot behind on Steve’s jeans, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when your clit was rubbing just right against the bulge pressing against his fly. 
“Oh god, Steve, ‘m gonna…” 
Your hips worked frantically, humping against Steve’s cock through both your clothes while he murmured encouraging words in your ear and played with your tits until he figured out what made you squirm and writhe the most. Then he kept that up until you were suddenly at the edge.
“Come for me, sunshine, come for your best friend.”
Steve’s words were what did you in. His soft, murmured urging pushed you off the ledge and sent you tumbling into pleasure as you came for him.
Your arms locked around your best friend’s shoulders, nails digging into the back of his neck as bliss like you’d never known swept through your body, leaving you a shaking, trembling mess. Mindless moans and whimpers slipped from your lips, your hips still bucking on Steve’s lap as you rode out your release.
It wasn’t until Steve let loose a guttural groan, a warm wetness spreading through the jeans pressed against your bare thighs, that you realized he was coming too. You wrenched your eyes open, your gaze locking with his, seeing your own pleasure mirrored in his sparkling blue depths. Then your mouths were colliding, both of you having surged forward to meet somewhere in the middle.
The kiss was messy, mouths sliding and teeth knocking, both of you swallowing down the pleasured sounds of the other. Steve’s hands gripped your hips hard, fingers digging into your softness, helping you rock on his lap while you both rode out your releases and shuddered through the last remnants of pleasure together. 
Finally, when you were sated, your lips broke free and you pressed your forehead to Steve’s, closing your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. You could hardly believed what had just happened, and your mind struggled to catch up. 
“Christ, sunshine,” Steve rasped, his own chest still heaving shallowly. His hands were idly kneading your hips, like he was soothing any pain that might be there. “I really didn’t plan on doing anything more than getting ice cream for my birthday, but this was—wow.”
You giggled at the awe in Steve’s voice, leaning back enough that you could see him properly. His handsome, familiar face was slack from satisfaction, a dazed smile curving his mouth. Unable to help yourself, you ducked forward and sucked his lower lip into your mouth, making him groan like he was in pain. Beneath you, you felt his cock twitch, and you laughed again as you sat back.
“If you want, we can ditch the rest of the fireworks show and go back to my place?” you suggested, an eager smile on your face. 
Steve chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning forward until every inch of your chests were pressed together. You could feel the steady beating rhythm of his heart against your sternum, making your smile soften as you melted in your best friend’s arms.
“Sunshine, the fireworks are already over,” he murmured before capturing your lips in a kiss. When he broke away, he left you panting. “And if you think I’m doing anything other than taking you home and taking you to bed…” He trailed off, getting distracted by pressing kisses against your jaw. 
You hummed in acknowledgement, but then a thought suddenly occurred to you and you had to bite back a laugh. “Your birthday is on the Fourth of July,” you began in a leading tone. “And you know what that means, Stevie?” 
Instead of responding, Steve sank his teeth lightly into skin over your thrumming pulse, sucking and licking like he was intent on marking you with his mouth. Your thoughts scattered for a moment, your head tipping to the side to give him better access while your fingers raked idly through his soft blond hair.
It took you a second, but you managed to finish your thought. 
“Because it’s the Fourth of July, we have to end your birthday with a bang,” you murmured, unable to stop yourself from giggling at your own joke.
Steve, on the other hand, groaned. His mouth abandoned your neck as he buried his face in your chest, reluctant laughter shaking his shoulders. Before you could poke him and get him to admit he liked your joke, Steve was flipping you onto your back, laying you down on his truck’s bench seat and slotting his hips between your thighs. His revived bulge bumped against your heated core, making you moan softly.
“Y’know what, sunshine? You’re right,” Steve rumbled, his blue eyes sparkling with humor and affection as he stared down at you. There was so much emotion in his gaze, it nearly stole all the breath from your lungs. “We’ll end my birthday with a bang.” His hands began to strip you out of the hoodie he’d given you to wear, his gaze hungry and determined. “We’re gonna see if I can make you scream louder than those fireworks.” 
Your laughter dissolved into a hot, hungry heat. You pulled Steve down at the same moment he ducked his head, your lips crashing together in a fiery kiss that fogged up the windows of his truck, your bodies working together toward the same goal.
Between you and your best friend, you made sure the Fourth of July—and, more importantly, Steve’s birthday—ended with a bang.
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noxcheshire · 8 months ago
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Back at it again with my Danny is mom coded au’s, but this time it’s because of Clockwork that he suddenly has a whole ass teenage kid.
Clockwork had been bored or maybe he was playing a game against an opponent, or even lost a bet, whatever it was, he stepped in right as Jason was searching for his biological mother.
The DNA that would have registered itself as one Sheila Haywood, confirming Jason’s mother, glitched a terrible green across the screens of the batcomputer.
In those few moments of chaos Jason’s heart beat rapidly as he tried to figure out why the computer wasn’t working, wondering if his only chance to find his mom — his blood mom — would never find success.
Then as suddenly as things went wrong the DNA settled and pinged.
Jason watched, his chest tight, as one Danny C. Works, formerly Danny Fenton appeared onto the big screen.
Danny looked a lot like Jason, short cut black hair more straight than the subtle curls of Jason’s own; deep blue eyes, tired in a way that spoke of long days and nights, but with a warm happiness that made the familiar smile — the one Jason would see on himself every time he looked into the mirror — even more striking.
Jason didn’t linger too long on the male identifying gender, nor the fact his mom leaned more towards a masculine name or clothing.
There were plenty of male to female, and female to male leaning individuals that lived in Crime Alley. He had seen it enough to not even bat an eye at it, even now. After all, in Gotham you minded your business least you find yourself in business you can’t leave.
On a different monitor information of Danny C. Works piled for Jason to quickly browse through.
Danny was a senior engineer, no intimate relationships, and with no close connections to family outside of the tentative calls from Jasmine Fenton.
Danny was estranged from Jack and Madeline Fenton, a falling out that had occurred just a little before Danny’s high school graduation. If Jason calculated it correctly that would have been — around the season Jason himself would have been born.
Okay, so no grandparents then but I might have a maybe aunt. Jason scrolled further and stilled.
Twin toddlers: Dante and Danielle Works.
Jason had baby siblings.
He doesn’t let the sting of younger siblings consume him, doesn’t allow the whispering thoughts of why he had been given up when his younger siblings had been kept and so very obviously loved.
Jason took deep breathes, he didn’t have time to linger here. He had a family to get to, and a family he would get to.
It took almost all night to reach, the starlight night sky slowly and surely fading into cloudy wine as the sun rose, but Jason made it.
And when the door opened to his hesitant but firm knock, Jason was unable to speak. His mom — dad, maybe? Did they want to be mom or dad? — stood in the doorway, brows furrowed in confusion.
It was when Danny spoke his vigilante name did Jason only just realize that he was still dressed to the nine’s in his Robin costume.
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genshingorlsrevengeance · 8 months ago
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(Genshin Impact) Giving Headpats to Furina, Lynette, Arlecchino, Chiori, Lumine, Jean, Eula, Noelle, Ayaka, Sara, Yae, Shenhe, and Xianyun
No one requested this, as for the reason this post exists, the only thing I can give you is this image:
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Furina freezes up the moment she feels S/O's hand pick up her hat, only to ruffle her hair.
She squawks for just a moment, quickly blushing and pouting as Furina yanks her hat down.
(Furina) "D-Don't just start patting me out of nowhere!"
Crossing her arms, she looks away, trying to not look bothered about the whole affair.
She finds it highly embarrassing. At least in public.
The moment they're alone and she feels their hand, she closes her eyes and completely relaxes, humming in content.
There's still a blush on her, but it's far more subdued unless S/O starts teasing her about it.
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Lynette does not like just anyone rubbing her head due to her cat-like features.
In public, the top of her head in general is completely off limits.
But if it's just her and S/O at home, then she allows it.
In fact, when S/O's hand starts petting her head, she leans into them completely as her eyes close, just like an actual cat.
Her ears twitch a little, but her tail swishes left and right happily.
If they stop too early, Lynette's eyes slowly open and looks at them expectantly.
(Lynette) "...Why did you stop?"
Feeling the warm of their hand allowed Lynette to rest comfortably, and to space out to her heart's content.
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Arlecchino did the same thing to comfort many of the children at the Hearth.
Yet she didn't know what to do when S/O did the same, feeling her hair slightly ruffled.
If her S/O was taller (in which case "Dude, you look huge"), she really wouldn't comment on the height difference, but if they were shorter, THEN she'd be surprised they would even attempt it.
Arlecchino doesn't care if it's in private or public, but she would care if they did so in front of her kids.
Because then they'd see that she has someone that can make her comfortable too, which in turn makes them happy.
Seeing their father cared for puts them at ease, making Arlecchino thankful in her own way.
But as for the action itself: she would just talk to them in her usual tone, though with a bit of a "threat" lying underneath.
(Arlecchino) "Did you wish for me to pat your head too, S/O? I might be rougher with you than the others."
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Chiori raises an eyerbrow.
(Chiori) "S/O, what are you doing?"
Once they explain themselves, Chiori can't help roll her eyes.
(Chiori) "Did you expect me to get all flustered from that? Psh, it'll take a little more than messing up my hair to do that. Speaking of which, can you fix it for me? I'm a little busy here."
She finds it cute, yeah, but it's not that big of a deal.
Plus, she finds it weird.
Who just goes around, patting their girlfriends' heads unprompted?
Oh well, it's not like this was particularly harmful, so Chiori lets it slide.
But if they do that in front of customers or in public, S/O is dead.
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Lumine's body stiffens when S/O's hand ruffles her hair lovingly, before she quickly giggles.
(Lumine) "Hey, stand still!"
She quickly does the same back, though her retaliation is far more playful and destructive.
S/O's hair is an absolute mess now, Lumine giving a cheeky grin back.
(Lumine) "There, now you look better than before!"
It does not take long for the situation to quickly devolve into a tickle fight with both of them on the bed laughing.
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Jean takes a moment to register what S/O is doing, but after a few seconds she smiles.
Jean lets her shoulders drop, feeling more at ease by the second.
So this is how Barbara and Klee felt when she did the same.
(Jean) "Your hand feels quite nice, S/O..."
She doesn't realize her own flushed cheeks as her vision becomes slightly hazed with her affection.
If anything, she feels a little sad everytime they pull back.
It was such a relaxing sensation, and honestly made her feel a little sleepy.
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Eula's head feels a bit colder to the touch, but her body is rapidly heating up, especially her face.
(Eula) "What do you think you're doing, S/O?"
Hearing their answer, Eula pauses for a moment before responding.
(Eula) "Next time, you should ask for permission instead of rubbing my hair like I'm some sort of child...I don't recall asking you to stop either."
In classic Eula fashion, she doesn't tell them directly that she loves the feeling of their hands.
But she'd be damned if she was going to admit something so embarrassing.
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Noelle feels a mixture of pride and embarrassment everytime S/O pats her on the head.
On one hand it felt quite nice, and the gesture was very sweet!
But it made her feel a little childish.
She never voiced her latter feelings aloud, because it still made her flustered all the same.
(Noelle) "A-Ah...Um, thank you, S/O...!"
It made her want to do her best everytime just so she could receive such affection, and made sure to do it back to them!
But with her strength, she accidentally completely dishevels their hair.
Before promptly fixing it in nearly an instant with her skills as a dutiful maid!
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Ayaka exhales deeply, any words she had completely fading away in bliss.
These were the kinds of moments Ayaka longed for, to simply share affection with a lover of her own.
It made her feel quite normal as opposed to the prim and proper noblewoman she was forced to be.
(Ayaka) "If I may be selfish for a moment, might I ask for you to continue...?"
She'd be a little embarrassed asking for more, but her shame vanishes the moment she feels their hand on her head again.
Ayaka is too shy to initiate the headpatting on her own, most of the time having her hand almost reach her S/O's head before pulling away last second.
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Sara flinches and leans away from S/O on instinct.
(Sara) "What are you-...M-My apologies, I was just not expecting you to..."
Her hand fidgets for a moment before Sara lets out a sigh.
(Sara) "If you wanted to touch my hair, you can just ask."
Now that she was actually ready for S/O, she enjoyed the feeling of their fingers brushing against her hair.
It was relaxing as she let down her guard and enjoyed the physical affection.
Needless to say, Sara absolutely did not want S/O to do this in public.
Seeing Inazuma's general get pat on the head so lovingly would obliterate her image.
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Yae smirks as she leans her head closer to them, not saying a word at first.
Her ears twitch for just a moment as she opens her mouth to speak.
(Yae) "Well, does my hair feel nice, S/O?"
And before S/O knows it, her tail wrapped around their waist before bringing them closer and her the back of her head is resting on their lap.
Yae's hand waves nonchalantly, and her tone growing increasingly ever more teasing.
(Yae) "I expect to be pampered properly, S/O. You can't leave a job half-finished after all!"
Now, Yae expects S/O to tend to her hair, in public or private, she doesn't really care.
As long as there were some good reactions from S/O both was fine, though in public tended to provide the funniest result.
...Oh, and their hands did feel nice. But she'd figure it'd be more entertaining to let S/O figure that one out themselves.
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Shenhe knows this feeling well.
Cloud Retainer did the same thing whenever she meant to comfort her.
And of course, the feeling is much of the same when S/O does it to her.
WIth zero shame or hesitation, she closes her eyes and the corners of her lips grow into some semblance of a smile.
(Shenhe) "Your hands are soft, S/O...They feel good."
Instead of leaning into them, she grabs their entire arm and has their hand stay stuck in place.
But Shenhe is careful enough to not hurt them during the process.
She opens her eyes and calmly asks them:
(Shenhe) "Can you keep your hand in place for a little longer?"
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Xianyun had provided much of the same comfort to all her disciples before.
But never has anyone attempted to pat her head.
So when she feels S/O's hands do the same motion, she is stunned for a few moments.
Clearing her throat and adjusting her glasses, she puts on the best poker face she can.
(Xianyun) "W-Why did you feel the need to rub One's head, One is not feeling upset."
...The blush on her cheeks gave her feelings completely away, if the stutter didn't already do that.
Xianyun is far too proud to admit that headpat made her heart skip, and she would refuse to ever do so.
A mortal patting an Adeptus' head? Absolutely ridiculous!
...She wanted S/O to do that again.
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tinytinyblogs · 1 month ago
Note
Hello!!!
I saw your request is open and would like to ask for one! (I apologise if it's not)
Can you please write Stray kids' reactions to their s/o pulling up this prank on them? https://www.instagram.com/reel/DABkBvONJRd
Thank you!
Does My Shirt Smell?
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Prank them by asking them to smell your shirt, only to lean in and kiss their forehead instead—then watch their reaction!
Hyung line, Maknae line(coming soon)
Stray Kids Masterlist 1.0 & 2.0
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Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨
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Chan
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Without thinking much, Chan leaned in to check the smell, only to be met with a soft kiss on his forehead. A wave of warmth spread over him, and he couldn’t hide the smile that formed on his face. His lips curled into a wide grin as he looked at you, clearly delighted. He loved this kind of affection—it was unexpected and playful, just the way he liked it. "Darling, you play dirty," he said, chuckling as he spoke. His voice held a playful tone, and it was clear he enjoyed the surprise. His arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace, pulling you close. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, mimicking the action you had just taken. "I'll take my revenge," he said with a twinkle in his eye, a teasing promise in his words. You couldn’t help but smile at his playful nature, but before you could respond, he began to pamper you with a flurry of kisses all over your face. The sudden onslaught of affection caught you off guard, and you laughed, trying to push him away gently, but he was relentless. His kisses were warm and full of affection, each one making you melt a little more. You soon gave up, surrendering to the sweetness of the moment, your laughter filling the room.
Chan pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Feel this—the power of my kiss," he said, his voice still playful. "Your shirt doesn’t smell bad at all. In fact, I can only smell love between us, and it’s strong." He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, his joy unmistakable. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, feeling a surge of affection for him. His playful teasing only made you love him more. But he wasn’t done yet. "And next time," he continued with a mischievous grin, "I’ll be the one giving you this cheesy prank. You better be ready." There was something about the way he said it—half teasing, half sincere—that made your heart flutter. You knew it would be impossible to say no to him, especially when he was in this playful mood. His energy was infectious, and the way he showered you with love, even in the form of jokes and pranks, made you feel cherished and special. As you looked at him, his eyes still filled with a twinkle of mischief, you realized that moments like these were what made your relationship so unique.
Minho
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It’s silent after he receives the kiss on his forehead from you. Minho stands there, caught off guard, his fingers still holding the shirt he was sniffing to check the smell as you had requested. His expression shifts subtly, the confusion in his eyes gradually giving way to realization. You can almost see the moment it clicks—he knows you pranked him. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but instead, his lips twitch upward into the faintest hint of a smile, though he tries to play it cool, as always. Before you can react, he takes a step closer, his movements deliberate and unhurried. His hand reaches out, lightly brushing against your arm, and in one swift motion, he pulls you into a kiss. His lips meet yours, firm yet tender, catching you by surprise. The kiss lingers just long enough to leave you breathless, but he doesn’t pull away completely, his lips hovering close as he speaks. “You could just ask if you really wanted a kiss,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, one he’s barely able to suppress.
He’s trying to maintain his usual air of indifference, but it’s a losing battle. The sparkle in his eyes betrays him, revealing the amusement and affection he can’t quite hide. He liked it—the prank, the attention, and the love you gave him—even if he didn’t show it often. Minho leans back slightly, his hand still on your arm. His gaze locks onto yours, and he tilts his head, studying your face. “There you go, another kiss,” he says softly, his tone playful yet warm. “Or should I stop?” His dark eyes glint with mischief, and you can feel the challenge in his words. You laugh, your cheeks warming, and shake your head. “Don’t stop,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible. His smirk deepens, and he leans in again, this time pressing another kiss to your lips. It’s softer, slower, as though he’s savoring the moment. When he finally pulls back, his thumb brushes your cheek. “Maybe my darling is craving my attention so badly they had to come up with this silly prank,” he teases, his voice dropping to a hushed, affectionate tone. “You’re lucky I love you.” He finishes with a kiss on your forehead. “Next time, just ask. You’ll get all the attention you want.”
Changbin
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Once you kiss Changbin's forehead, he freezes for a moment, caught in the middle of trying to smell your shirt. His confusion is short-lived as laughter bursts out of him, loud and rich, echoing in the room. That laugh of his—it’s something you’ve always adored. It’s vibrant, warm, and so uniquely him, filling the air with joy. It’s obvious your little prank has completely amused him. You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting back your own laughter. You’re determined to keep an innocent expression, as if you have no idea why he’s laughing so much. His sharp eyes catch yours, twinkling with playful accusation. “Is that your way of sneaking a chance to kiss me?” he teases, his voice thick with amusement. His grin grows wider, and the way his laugh lingers makes it harder for you to hold your composure. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, barely managing to keep a straight face. Changbin doesn’t buy it for a second. Shaking his head, still grinning, he steps closer. “Alright,” he says with exaggerated patience, his tone light but teasing, “you want a kiss? Here you go.”
Before you can process his words, his hands find their way to your waist, his grip firm yet gentle. He pulls you closer, the warmth of his presence immediately surrounding you. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if he’s giving you a chance to change your mind—but why would you? He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft, so tender, it sends a shiver down your spine. The world around you seems to fade as you lose yourself in the moment. When he pulls back, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes lock onto yours. Those eyes—dark, intense, and filled with love—make your breath hitch. They seem to hold an unspoken promise, a quiet devotion that makes your heart swell. “Better?” he asks, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Or do you need more?” Before you can answer, a mischievous grin spreads across his face. He raises an eyebrow, the playful spark in his eyes unmistakable. “Or should I just attack you with kisses? You can count it as my revenge for that sweet little prank of yours,” he adds, his tone mock-threatening. Then, with a smirk, he leans in even closer, his voice low but full of teasing. “Get ready, love,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “I don’t have mercy when it comes to this kiss attack.”
Hyunjin
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The first thing you see is Hyunjin’s irritated eyes and playful glare as you kiss his forehead. His lips purse as he dramatically wipes the spot where your lips just landed, a mock display of disapproval. “Come on, where do you even get these silly ideas?” he asks, but the lightness in his tone gives him away. There’s no real bite in his words—just a playful exasperation that makes you grin. Before you can reply, he continues, “You really need to step up your prank game. Maybe something more creative... like a kiss in the right place.” His finger points directly at his lips, and despite his effort to appear serious, a grin spreads across his face, a little too wide to be convincing. You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but he catches the slight flush on your cheeks. “Oh, don’t act like you’re not tempted,” he teases, his grin now bordering on mischievous. “But okay, I’ll let it go for now.” Before you can process what he means, Hyunjin pulls you down onto the couch with him, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.
The sudden closeness catches you off guard, and you yelp as he pulls you tighter against his chest. His legs wrap around you too, locking you in place as if you’re some sort of oversized teddy bear he refuses to let go of. The warmth of his embrace and the weight of him pressing against you is both comforting and slightly overwhelming. “See? Now I’ve got you right where I want you,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice dripping with teasing affection. You can feel the vibration of his words against your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. Hyunjin tilts his head to meet your gaze, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I’ll make sure you get that kiss you’re so desperate for,” he says, his tone light but laced with a hint of challenge. His grin returns, mischievous as ever. “But don’t think you’ll get away without paying the price. Maybe I’ll keep you here all night... you know, to make sure you don’t try another silly prank on me.” And just like that, his laughter fills the room, pulling you into a moment you wish could last forever.
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viennakarma · 10 months ago
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My dearest friend and enemy
Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
Word count: 7.8k
Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)
I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]
Find me on Twitter!
PART 2 (END)
You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.
You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.
“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.
“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.
The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.
He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.
“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.
After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.
“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”
“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.
“Are you sure?” You asked again.
“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.
“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.
“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”
“You know?” You whispered.
“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”
You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.
From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.
You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.
That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.
“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.
You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.
The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.
“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”
You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.
“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”
“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.
“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”
He laughed it off.
Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 
“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.
“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.
“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”
“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 
At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.
“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.
“Like to what?” He frowned.
“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.
Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.
“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”
“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”
He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.
“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.
“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.
You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.
“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.
“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”
A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.
“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.
“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.
“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.
Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.
You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.
“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”
“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.
“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”
“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”
That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.
Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 
You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.
He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.
“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”
He only laughed at your happy ramble.
You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.
“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.
“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 
Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.
“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.
“Hm?”
“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.
“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.
“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.
“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”
You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.
“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”
Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.
The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.
“Nano!” You hugged him.
“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.
“You came.”
“You called.”
Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.
You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.
Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.
“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.
“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.
“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”
You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.
When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.
During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.
Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.
“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.
And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.
So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.
That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.
He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.
“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.
“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.
“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.
Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.
That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.
You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.
“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.
“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.
“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”
It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.
“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.
“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.
“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.
“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.
When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.
“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.
“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.
“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.
“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.
After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.
When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.
Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.
When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.
He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.
Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.
You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.
“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.
“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.
“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”
The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.
“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”
“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”
His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.
“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.
“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.
After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.
“Nena…”
“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.
“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.
“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”
“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”
“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”
You walked past him, leaving at once.
That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.
“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.
He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.
“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.
“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”
Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.
He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.
“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”
His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.
“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.
You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 
Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.
You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.
“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”
You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.
“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 
“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”
“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.
You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.
Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.
The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.
All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.
Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.
“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”
You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.
“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.
“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.
“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.
There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.
When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.
“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.
“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”
“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.
You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 
“Fernando, please-”
“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.
“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.
You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.
Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.
“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.
“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”
You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.
“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.
“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.
“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.
Shame and jealousy burned inside you.
He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.
You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.
“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”
You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.
The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.
“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.
“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”
“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.
“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.
“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.
Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.
You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.
“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.
“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”
You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.
It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.
“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.
“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.
“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”
“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.
“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”
“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”
Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.
“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.
“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.
“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.
“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”
“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”
“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”
“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.
“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.
You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.
“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.
“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.
“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.
“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.
“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”
You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.
You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.
“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”
Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.
They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.
“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.
“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.
“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”
“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”
“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”
So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.
You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.
You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.
It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.
So you had to prove Fernando wrong.
NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!
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itneverendshere · 4 months ago
Note
wait you guys watching milo one night, and rafes like “when is it gonna be out baby”
this was ridiculously cute to write oh my god!!!!! love their dynamic 😭😭😭😭 thank you for the request ❤️
so blessed to be looking at you- r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
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Milo's little hand gripped the sleeve of your hoodie, his fingers sticky with remnants of the peanut butter crackers he’d demolished not twenty minutes ago. You’d just finished washing the kid’s sippy cup when you heard the familiar thud of Rafe’s feet on the floor behind you.
You were at his house, tucked into the living room, the glow from the huge fireplace casting shadows over everything. Milo was sitting cross-legged on the rug, eyes locked on some cartoon with way too many bright colors. Every once in a while, he'd giggle at something on the screen, and it made your heart swell.
Rafe slid up behind you as you walked into the living room, wrapping his arms around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “You’re real good at that, y’know.”
You rolled your eyes, like always, but smiled anyway. “Yeah, well, someone has to be. My sister’s been running that graveyard shift all week. Milo’s practically my roommate at this point.”
He laughed softly, his chest vibrating against your back. He watched you twist the cap back onto the cup and set it down on the coffee table before turning you around in his arms. His eyes watched you closely, "You're so good with him," he said again.
You shrugged it off, though you warmed at the compliment. “I’ve had practice. Milo’s been around since I was seventeen, so I kinda had to figure it out.”
His hands lingered on your waist for a moment longer before he stepped away, glancing over at Milo, who was still oblivious to the conversation.
“Kid’s lucky he’s got you.”
You leaned back against the couch, watching Rafe watch Milo. It was something you’d noticed over the past few months — how he had softened around Milo, almost like he’d started to think of him as part of your little world. Whenever your sister needed help with him, Rafe was always down to hang out, no complaints.
If anything, he seemed to like it.
You’d only been dating for a year, but you’d already lost count of how many times he’d mentioned wanting kids. Not in a weird, pushy way, but just casually. Whenever you’d see a baby at the beach or out on the boat, he’d smile, and that sparkle would hit his eyes, and he’d say something like, “That’ll be us one day.”
You loved that he thought about it, thought about you like that, but you were always quick to keep him in check. You were still figuring out this whole relationship thing. Still, seeing him watching Milo like that, looking all soft and affectionate? Yeah, it did something to you.
“You good over there?” You asked, breaking him out of whatever trance he was in.
Rafe blinked and looked back at you, grinning in that way that made your stomach flip. “Yeah, just thinkin’.”
“About?” You raised an eyebrow.
He walked over, plopping down next to Milo on the floor, ruffling his messy curls. Milo laughed, swatting Rafe’s hand away, then promptly went back to his cartoon.
“When’s it gonna be our baby?” Rafe asked, so relaxed, you almost thought you misheard him.
“What?”
He shrugged like it was nothing. “I mean, you and me — we’ve talked about it before. You’re so good with Milo, and I like having him around. Feels right, y’know?”
Your heart did that stupid flip-flop thing again, and you bit down on your bottom lip to stop you from smiling like an idiot. You knew he was serious, even though he was trying to make it sound light.
“Rafe, we’ve been dating for a year,” You reminded him, “Let’s not go putting the cart before the horse.”
He tilted his head, giving you that lopsided grin that always made me weak. “A year’s a long time, baby. I know what I want.”
You sighed, but there was no hiding the fact that you loved hearing him say stuff like that. He was so sure, so steady. It was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place — how Rafe could be chaotic, reckless even, but when it came to you, he was all in.
You walked over to the couch, dropping onto the cushion and grabbing the remote to turn down the volume on the TV. Milo let out a little whine but didn’t protest too much since you left the screen on.
“You don’t even know what it’s like yet,” You teased. “Babies aren’t all cartoons and snacks, Rafe. They cry. A lot. Not to mention toddlers.”
Rafe shot you a look, his lips curving into a smirk. “You’re acting like I didn’t grow up with two little sisters running around screaming their heads off all day. I know what I’m getting into.”
You raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Okay, but babysitting your sisters is different than being there 24/7. Especially when it’s your kid. There’s no off-switch.”
He just shrugged, “I don’t need one. I’ll figure it out with you.”
That comment alone hit harder than he probably even realized. With you. Like it was just a given that whatever future kids came into the picture, they were going to be both of yours. He didn’t treat the idea like some far-off possibility — for Rafe, it felt like he was already there, just waiting for you to catch up.
You leaned back against the couch, watching him with Milo. Your nephew had crawled into Rafe’s lap now, not really watching the TV anymore, just playing with one of his trucks while Rafe absentmindedly pushed his hair out of his eyes.
“Does it freak you out?” He asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Huh?” Your head snapped up, meeting his blue eyes.
“The baby thing,” he clarified, looking almost shy, which was weird for him. Rafe never did shy. “Like, when I bring it up. Does it freak you out?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to figure out how to answer that without sounding like you were completely against the idea — because you weren’t. You did think about it, just like Rafe did, but maybe with a little more hesitation. It wasn’t that you didn’t see a future with him. If anything, you were more sure of it now than you’d ever been. But the whole baby thing? It was a lot. A lot of responsibility, a lot of life changes. You weren’t were ready for it yet, especially at twenty-one.
“I wouldn’t say freaked out…” you started, choosing your words carefully. “It’s more like—I just want to make sure we’re ready, you know? We’ve got time.”
He traced patterns on Milo’s back, the little boy already dozing off in his lap. “I get that,” Rafe nodded, “I’m not trying to rush you. Just— sometimes I think about what it’ll be like. Like, really picture it. You, me, and a little one.”
You smiled, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.
The way he was talking, so openly, like this was his ultimate dream? It made your heart swell.
He wasn’t just saying it to sound cute —Rafe wanted this. Wanted you to be a part of it. You could tell that much by the look in his eyes, the sincerity there.
“Yeah,” you said softly, finally letting yourself imagine it, too. “I think about it sometimes.”
He grinned at that, like you’d just given him all the confirmation he needed. But then he tilted his head, studying you like he was reading every single thought racing through your mind.
“Don’t even think about it,” You warned him, scootching yourself away.
Rafe practically beamed, scooting closer to you on the couch like he hadn’t just been told off. “What? I’m not thinking about anything.”
You gave him a look, narrowing your eyes. “Oh, please. I know that look, Cameron.”
His grin widened like he was proud of himself for whatever scheme he had cooking up in his head.
“Okay, maybe I’m thinking a little. Can’t help it when you’re over here making me all soft and sentimental.”
It was so typical of Rafe to be half-joking, half-serious, always pushing just enough to get you thinking but not enough to freak you out. He had this way of getting under your skin and making you picture things.
Milo stirred in his lap, his body shifting. You both glanced down at him, expecting him to be waking up from his half-snooze. Instead, Milo blinked his big eyes open, looking groggy but alert.
“Where’s da baby?” Milo mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, making the tiniest pout you’d ever seen.
You and Rafe exchanged confused looks. “What baby, buddy?” Rafe asked, ruffling his curls softly.
Milo sat up, his brows furrowed, like he was personally offended by the question. 
“The baby! Dere was a baby! Where it go?” He looked around the room like it was hiding behind the couch or something.
Rafe glanced at you, utterly baffled, his mouth twitching like he was trying not to laugh. “Uh, Milo? I think you were dreaming, dude. No baby here.”
But Milo was having none of it. He looked at you now, all wide-eyed and serious. “No, dere was a baby! You had it, Auntie!”
You blinked, totally caught off guard, as Milo scrambled out of Rafe’s lap and stood up on the couch, looking around the room with this stubborn determination like he’d misplaced his toy truck. “Auntie had a baby! Where is it?”
Rafe’s lips twitched, clearly holding back a laugh. You raised your hands in surrender. “Milo, I swear, there’s no baby. Just you.”
Milo gave you a look that said he did not believe you. He crossed his little arms, glaring at the both of you like you were in on some kind of conspiracy.
“You’re hiding it.”
Rafe finally lost it and let out a snort, leaning back on the couch, looking at you with amusement written all over his face. “You’ve been holding out on me? You got a secret baby I don’t know about?”
You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully in the ribs. “Don’t start.”
But Milo was still adamant, his little voice growing more insistent. “Auntie, I saw it! You were holdin’ da baby, and it had little feet! And it was cryin’! Where it go?”
You knelt down so you were eye level with him, “I think you were dreaming. You must’ve been sleeping really deep.”
Milo’s face scrunched up in thought, his head tilting to the side as he tried to process it. After a few moments, he let out a dramatic sigh, clearly disappointed. “Oh. I wanted to baby again.”
Rafe laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “This kid, man…”
You couldn’t help but smile at the whole thing, though there was something about the way Milo had said “Auntie had a baby” that sent a warm shiver down your spine. You caught Rafe’s eye, and he was already smirking, as if to say, See? Even Milo’s thinking about it.
Before you could answer, Milo yawned and plopped himself back down on the couch, clearly over his phantom baby drama, like it had never even happened.
Rafe leaned closer, whispering in your ear, “I mean, maybe Milo’s onto something.”
You gave him a playful shove, trying not to let the heat rise to your cheeks. “Shut up. He’s just dreaming, let’s get to bed.”
He chuckled under his breath as he got up from the couch, scooping a now sleepy Milo into his arms. Milo barely protested, his little head already resting against Rafe's shoulder, soft snores escaping his lips. You swore that kid slept like the dead. You grabbed his blanket from the armrest and followed them down the hallway. 
As Rafe tucked Milo into the small guest bed, you couldn’t help but stand in the doorway and watch the scene. He was so gentle, pulling the covers up to Milo’s chin and brushing a stray curl from his forehead. After making sure Milo was comfortable, he quietly shut the door behind him, and the two of you headed toward his bedroom. Sliding into bed, you were aware of Rafe’s eyes on you the entire time. He lay down beside you, resting on his side, propped up on his elbow. His other hand traced light patterns along your arm. Rafe’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer leaving just the sound of your breaths syncing up in the quiet room. He rested his chin on top of your head, his thumb lazily tracing circles on your back, like he couldn’t stop touching you.
“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked, your voice muffled against his chest.
Rafe chuckled, his chest vibrating under you. “Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to memorize my face or something,” you teased, though you could feel his heart pounding steadily beneath your cheek.
He let out a soft sigh, his hand moving to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he looked down at you, it almost made you blush.
“Can’t help it,” he murmured. “Sometimes I can’t believe this is my life now. That you’re here with me.”
Your heart stuttered at the sincerity in his voice. You looked up at him, suddenly feeling a little breathless. “Rafe…”
“I’m serious,” he said, his voice still quiet. “I’ve had a lot of crazy moments in my life, but this? Right here? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I still can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”
You propped yourself up on your elbow, looking him square in the eyes. “You know you didn’t give me much of a choice right?”
Rafe smirked, clearly amused. “Oh, didn’t I?” 
You gave him a playful slap on the bicep. “Nope. You practically steamrolled your way into my life.”
He chuckled softly, his hand catching yours and pulling it against his chest, holding it there as his thumb rubbed soothing circles over your knuckles. “Yeah, well, look how that turned out. Can’t say I regret it.”
He was stupidly charming. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Rafe grinned wider, pulling you closer until your noses nearly brushed. “Exactly. So, no complaints from you.”
You huffed, feigning annoyance. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think maybe I should’ve played a little harder to get. You barely gave me time to breathe.”
His lips twitched as he leaned in, brushing them against yours in the softest kiss. 
“I just knew what I wanted.”
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gothicfied · 4 days ago
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Kang No-eul / Guard 011 Headcanons
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Pairing: Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking/alcohol, other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)
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જ⁀➴ Working that shitty job as a costume performer at your local amusement park was hard enough, and the money problems that plagued your every thought were making the situation worse. Most of your co-workers would go out for dinner together after your shift, basically only to drink their problems away and forget about this hell for a night. The only one who'd also stay behind like you was No-eul. You didn't know much about her, as she'd be super secretive about her life, but you at least knew she was a nice person.
જ⁀➴ One time after work it was literally pouring outside, and since you didn't own a car or an umbrella apparently, she offered to take you home with her. You guys hurried over her car and got in as soon as possible and only then you noticed that it seemed like she was living in here. Looking at No-eul, you could tell that she was slightly embarrassed, so you didn't bother mention it or asking about it — Instead, you thanked her a thousand times and more for taking you home.
જ⁀➴ From then on, she'd drive you home one or two times a week so you wouldn't have to take public transportation. At one point, you invited No-eul in, offering to cook dinner as a thank you to her. After a few times it became a regular thing and she actually seemed like she was enjoying it, a smile replacing her usual stoic expression. You also never quite understood how she was so good at her job, entertaining the kids and all, when she was the complete opposite when taking the heavy costume off.
જ⁀➴ She'd help you out in the kitchen sometimes, often catching herself staring at some old childhood pictures of you that you hung up on the refrigerator.
"Oh, that one is cute." No-eul mumbled, pointing at a picture taken at one of your school's dance recitals when you were quite young. "Huh? Oh yeah," you turned around to the picture she was pointing at chuckling a bit, "I was like what? Maybe three? Four? It's one of my mom's favorite pictures, though." You didn't get a reponse back. When you turned around again, No-eul was still staring at it almost longingly.
જ⁀➴ Back at work, you were the only person she'd talk with during the breaks. Some of your co-workers would ask you how you gained her trust like that, since No-eul didn't even speak to them directly at all. You'd just shrug, not knowing how to answer them. Perhaps it was a bit strange how much she seemed to like you, but you certainly weren't complaining.
જ⁀➴ After some time, she'd open up to you about some of the things in her past and she explained her reason for living in her car with that she simply didn't have the money for an apartment. Apparently, she urgently needed it for something else, but she wouldn't tell you more about it. Just the fact No-eul was ready to share bits of her private life with you made your heart feel warm. You liked that she felt safe around you, and she did, too.
જ⁀➴ It got really late one night, so you offered her to sleep over at your place, since you probably owed her so much in gas money anyway. With a bit of hesitation, she'd accept, a genuine smile gracing her face. She was kind of forced to sleep in your bed as well, since your couch was just not big enough for one person to sleep on. No matter how much you apologized for that, No-eul would reassure you that this was more than fine and that she was really thankful you did this for her. She'd take your hand to squeeze it a couple of times to emphasize her words, even.
જ⁀➴ It felt like you two were teenage girls again, having a sleepover while you got ready for bed. No-eul showing you real emotions like happiness, excitement and gratefulness was so weird but also very appreciated by you. You never thought you'd come this close to her, shoulder on shoulder while laying together in your bed. Neither you or her minded it at all though and that was evident through the comfortable silence between you two. Not much had to be said in the moment for it to not be awkward.
જ⁀➴ When you woke up the morning after, No-eul was gone. You had figured that she'd probably be prone to do that, but you were still a bit baffled when finding the spot next to you cold and empty. She needed to get something done, that's at least what her text message said. This was typical No-eul, even if this was the first time this had happened.
જ⁀➴ No-eul wasn't able to get you out of her head. You were so irreducibly kind, soft spoken, pretty and just something that sge wasn't. Even back in the car she couldn't contain a smile when thinking about you, the conversations you had, your laugh, your face.. it wasn't like she didn't like it. She just wasn't used to this feeling at all ever since leaving her home years ago. But perhaps, just for you, she'd be ready to get used to it again.
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rbfclassy · 7 months ago
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STILL IN LOVE! #9 — TOJI FUSHIGURO
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SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…
INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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A pounding headache awoke you from your sleep, the feeling of warm arms wrapped around you brought you comfort, mind still groggy and eyes barely open. You took a deep breath, licking your dry lips as the taste of alcohol with still on your tongue, making you slightly cringe at the bitter taste. You closed your eyes again, hands moving towards the warm arms wrapped around you. “Kento.” You smiled to yourself, voice cracking. You gently caressed his skin before gaining the strength to turn over towards him.
You slowly opened your eyes only to be met with familiar black hair, and an all too familiar scar. Your brows furrowed and you immediately sat up. “What the fuck?!” You screamed. Toji jolted awake, looking around the room before his eyes landed on you, a confused look on his face. “What the fuck are you doing in my bed, Toji?!” You screamed, not helping the fact your head was still pounding. You quickly scrambled out of the bed, mind running a million miles per hour and heart beating just the same.
“Woah, woah, woah, calm down, y/n!” He sat up, holding his hands out in defense. “Nothing happened between us, okay? We didn’t do anything,” he tried to explain.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you mumbled under your breath. What happened last night? Where was Kento? “What the fuck!” You screamed. “I can’t with you, Toji. We strictly agreed that this wouldn’t happen no matter what. We agreed that we only communicated if it came to the kids and now here you are making your way into my bed again! Oh my god! I should’ve fucking known!” You scoff in disbelief.
His brows furrowed at your words. “You called me last night!” Toji yelled back, getting out of the bed. “Crying, begging for me to come over here! Don’t pin this shit on me!”
“Oh, bull-fucking-shit, Toji. What’d you do, huh? Threaten Kento? Scared him away? All so you could have a quick fuck again?!” You clenched your jaw in anger.
“You don’t remember, do you?” Toji stared at you, lips parted.
“Remember what?” You shrug your shoulders, throwing your hands in the air.
Toji pulls his phone from his pocket, calmly walking over to you. You eye him up and down as he does so before he turns his phone towards you. “You called me, late last night, drunk, crying, begging me to come over, asking me to stay.”
You stare at the screen, seeing that you were the one who made a call to him last night. “I…” You quickly shut your mouth, not knowing what to say.
“Apparently you and your new boyfriend had gotten into an argument. Don’t ask me about what, I didn’t care to know. But, I don’t need you yelling at me and blaming me for being in your bed when you were clinging onto me with tears in your eyes saying that you—” Toji quickly cut himself off before he made the situation even worse. “Listen, y/n, I came over because I was worried something had happened to you. Otherwise, I would have respected our decision to leave each other alone. We didn’t have sex or anything of the sort like you’re assuming! I only stayed because you asked me to.”
You looked up at him with sincere eyes, poking your cheek with your tongue. “I’m sorry, I just—I thought…” You sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, whatever.” Toji grabbed his shoes, slipping them on. “I’ll be sure not to come again when you call unless the kids are here, I don’t want this happening again.” He opened your bedroom door before stopping in his tracks. “It’s best if you don’t remember last night.” He walked out of your bedroom, the sound of his footsteps growing farther away.
You sat there and pondered about what he just said, biting at the skin of your lips. “Shit.” You quickly grabbed your phone, wasting no time to call Kento. Your leg bounced up and down nervously as it kept ringing and ringing, hoping that you’d hear his voice on the other end of the line.
Whatever happened last night between you and him needed to be talked about, it’s sad that you can’t even remember it, but deep down you felt that was the right decision.
“Hello?” His voice was soft but raspy, like he had just woken up.
“Kento…hey,” you responded.
“Y/n,” he sharply spoke, like your name was something forbidden.
A deep sigh left your lips. “Can we talk about last night, please? I just want to apologize to you about being so harsh and making you leave—letting you leave. I just…I want us to work out. You’re an amazing person and I appreciate you in my life—”
“Y/n, I’m gonna stop you right there.” He cut you off, leaving you slightly shocked. “After our small argument last night and after I had left, I realized one thing about this whole situation that I don’t even think you realize yourself. In no way am I blaming you or shaming you because you’re also amazing, beautiful, and kindhearted, but…I know you’re still in love with Toji.” His words hit you like a truck, your mouth dry, eyes darting around the room as if you were searching for what to say. “Whether you believe it or not, it’s what I noticed, what I see.”
“Kento, but, I don’t want this to end between us just because you think I’m still in love with Toji. I’m sorry if I hurt you last night or said anything that offended you, but I want us to work out. Can you just come over so we can talk? Please?” It was embarrassing, but you were begging him, that heavy feeling starting to sink down on your chest.
You heard sigh on the other end. “I’m sorry, y/n.” Your phone beeped as he abruptly hung up. You threw your phone on the bed as tears pooled in your eyes.
Maybe it was you, always you. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be happy and find real love. Maybe you were the one who was always making the mistakes. Why was it so easy for him to leave? To forget you just like that? It all felt too familiar, making you reminisce about your arguments with Toji. You wiped your tears stained cheeks, taking in a deep breath. You’ve barely even woken up fifteen minutes ago and your day has already gone to shit.
“Mom?!” You heard Megumi call as the front door squeaked open. Quickly, you wiped away your tears, trying to pull yourself together before your kids saw you. You didn’t want them to know you were crying.
Naya’s little feet could be heard running down the hall as she entered your room with a smile on her face. “Mommy!” She jumped into your arms, hugging you tightly.
“Hi! Good morning, baby!” You giggled. “How was aunty Shoko’s?” You asked, wiping a crumb off of her cheek.
“It was fun! She took us to a trampoline park, then the movies, and then we ate a restaurant!” She smiled.
“Hi, mom.” Megumi walked into the room, a tired look on his face, still dressed in his pajamas. You couldn’t help but laugh as he waddled over to you like a zombie, holding his arms out to hug you.
“Hi, my love,” you chuckled. “You look so tired.” You gently caressed his back. All he did was nod in return, nearly falling asleep on you. “Here,” you slipped his backpack off, “sleep a little longer in my bed and I’ll wake you up when breakfast is done, okay?”
“‘Kay.” The young boy plopped down face first into the pillow, pulling the blanket over his body.
“Mommy, can I help you make breakfast? I want blueberry and raspberry pancakes.” Your daughter batted her eyes at you, tugging on your shirt.
“Of course, let’s go and let your brother sleep.”
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“So you ended up at her house last night, in her bed, and she said she loved you?” Gojo asked, taking a sip from his drink. Toji nodded in response. “Fucking hell,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “And you didn’t say anything to her?”
“She was fucking drunk, Gojo! What’d you want me to do, confess my feelings, getting married again and get her pregnant all in one minute? She one hundred percent didn’t mean a thing she said which is why she went off on me the moment she woke up. She’s with that dude anyway, it’s got nothing to do with me.” Toji just shrugged, taking a swig from his beer.
Gojo rolled his eyes. “Something tells me that you didn’t tell her what she said last night.” He stared at Toji, brows raised. Toji just stared back in silence, biting the inside of his cheek. “I knew it,” he scoffed.
“She wouldn’t have believed me anyway.” Toji sounded defeated, like he’d given up all hope that you and him would ever be together again. Which was true. Maybe it’s time that he stops fighting and let’s go. Let’s you go. “I think I’m starting to accept that me and her will never happen again.”
Gojo suck his teeth, waving Toji off. “Ah, come on, don’t say that.”
“It’s the fucking truth. But goddamn is it hard to accept.” He clenched his jaw.
“Kiss her,” Gojo bluntly stated.
Toji looked at him, confused. “What?”
“Kiss her and see. If she goes back for more, she still loves you, if she pushes you away then you know it’s over,” Gojo explained, like it was as easy as blinking.
“You are one stupid motherfucker,” he laughed, sipping on his beer.
“What?!” Gojo asked, voice slightly high.
“I can’t just kiss her, that’s weird, and she’s still with that guy. It’s not right. I can’t.” Toji shook his head, fiddling with the ring on his middle finger.
“Look,” Gojo slightly leaned forward, “I’m just tryna help you get your ex wife back, okay? Might not be the best ideas, but they’ve worked for me…in the past. Point is, it’s your best shot. Everything else you’ve tried has gone to shit. If she’s still with the guy, then don’t do it. If she is, well there you go.”
“But how would I know if they’re still together? I can’t just ask,” Toji mentioned.
“Be patient.” Just as soon as Gojo finished speaking, Toji’s phone went off, a text popping up on his screen.
Kids came back from Shoko’s a few hours ago, said they wanna see you.
Toji stared at the text, contemplating if he should go over there today, especially after what happened just few hours ago between you and him.
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You stared at the text you had sent, waiting for his reply as he usually responds quickly, but there was nothing. You shut your phone off, watching as the kids played in Megumi’s room, Naya with her dolls and Megs on his video game.
“Did daddy respond?” Naya glanced up at you.
“Not yet, but I’m sure he will,” you assured her, a soft smile spread across your face. As the two were occupied with their things, you walked into your bedroom and laid down on the bed. You began to think about what Nanami had said, making you second guess everything about yourself. Were you still in love with Toji? How could you possibly know? What is it that you do or say that makes it so obvious to others? The questions began piling up, crowding your brain.
You weren’t in love with Toji, not anymore. Nanami is just saying things, still hurt over the argument that occurred. You were sure that you guys would be back together in no time. A misunderstanding is all this is. But then again, you called Toji last night, not Nanami. It was Toji you ran to first when you were upset and drunk. It was Toji who stayed when you asked him, even when he most likely knew you’d react the way you did this morning.
You toss in your bed, inhaling deeply as you stare at the ceiling and your phone buzzes.
I’ll be there in ten. Tell them I’m not coming, I wanna surprise em.
You chuckle through your nose at the text, getting up out of bed and walking over to your son’s room. “Hey, babies?” You said in almost a sad tone.
“Yeah?” Megumi responded, pausing his game.
“Daddy can’t make it today, said he’s busy. He’ll be here tomorrow though.” You frown.
“But…I miss him,” Naya said.
“He misses you too, that’s why he said tomorrow. Sometimes daddy gets busy just like mommy does,” you explained.
“Okay…” Megumi had a small pour on his face as he unpaused his game.
You walked back out the room and pulled your phone from your pocket.
They got so sad when I said you weren’t coming lol. Get here quick don’t wanna see one of my poor babies crying
series masterlist
tag list (comment to be added):
@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon @fisherman-boat @mochimoee @cheridrwyy @vi-ola666 @emmaperdoswife @sucrose-fqn @rhyies-pieces @tojislittleprincesss @sashadonat @ruixrei @zara-zara11 @paper--angel @khyok @ilyanadelarosa @zxnxy @esmedelacroix
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seungfl0wer · 7 months ago
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Can I request for how Stray Kids would cuddle please?!?!
*How Stray Kids Would Cuddle You*
-🩵Cuddly SKZ is honestly always on my mind I hope you enjoy this, made this one both gifs and a small bit of thoughts cause I have a lot on this topic I guess lol💙
These are souly my opinions
Some GIFs might be mature You are warned!
Bangchan:
I feel like Chan is just such a great cuddler. He’s so warm and loving, he just wraps you in his arms and doesn’t want to let you go. Always peppers you with kisses and tells you how much he loves you constantly. I firmly believe he’s gotten inspo many times while yall are cuddling (for a song) probably about you
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Lino:
This man very much melts to your affection. He may try to act all nonchalant about it but he enjoys it so so much. Just to have you close to him. Hearing your heart beat makes him let out little hums of just happiness. Man basically purrs he’ll whine anytime you move though. “Stop moving I was so comfortable”
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Changbin:
Holds onto you like his life depends on it. You have to pee? Better hold it as long as you can cause he’s gonna whine so much if you try to get up. This is the time he looks forward to just unwinding with the love of his life. Will probably have really deep convos with you like this. Or really dumb ones like “is a hotdog a sandwich or taco”
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Hyunjin:
He likes to have you facing him, he loves staring into your eyes, getting lost in how much he truly is in love with you. Constantly gives you kisses while you try to talk to him finds it way to cute when you try and get back to what you were saying. Plays with your hair a lot, also loves kissing your nose especially when you fall asleep.
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Han:
I feel like Han really likes being the little spoon. Just you holding him close to him feeling how much you love him. Brining your hand up to his lips and giving it small pecks. He’s probably out like a light, just feels the happiest this way. Mans probably also steals all the blankets
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Felix:
The cuddle bug himself. One thing I feel like he definitely 100% loves is laying on your chest listing to your heart beat. Something about this just gives him such comfort and makes his heart all warm. He’s constantly rubbing your back giving you compliments. When you do it in return though man can’t help but get all giddy.
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Seungmin:
Play with this man’s hair, just do it he’ll be putty you’ll get those big ol puppy eyes when you stop. He will 100% sing to you while, especially if you’re having troubles sleeping. He’ll have you lay on his chest so “you can hear it better” will in fact have a folder of pics of you sleeping because you’re cute also for blackmail
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Jeongin:
Mans might not be super affectionate public wise but i genuinely think he’s just a big softy in private with you. Wants nothing more than to have you close to him. Whether it be him holding you, you spooning him he doesn’t care. He’s just happy you’re there with him.
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-🩵Hope you guys enjoyed this, if requests are open feel free to send one in💙
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princecharmingwinks · 9 days ago
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Sterek Fic Rec - 2024
Guess who's backkkkk??? Ok so I know that I am late but only by like 4 days? So not too bad. Anyway! Welcome to Prince's 2024 Fic Rec List! I am now aiming to do a list every year (and more if we are lucky but let's not promise that hehe). As always here are my top 10 fics I read and a special bonus mention !
Perfect Star That Hid by thebigoblin (1/1 | 1K | Teen)
He turns his hand— It’s not bare, anymore. His wrist — it has a name. His soulmate’s name. He stares. And stares and stares because what the hell. This has to be a joke, right?
Last Christmas (I gave you my heart) by jadore_hale (1/1 | 4K | Teen)
“W-what is this?” Derek couldn’t even begin to get his mind around this current situation. “My Christmas gift to you, nephew.” Peter pushed the guy towards him, and Derek hastened to catch him before he fell face first on the floor. “I’d like you to meet your soul mate.” *** Derek's uncle Peter decides to get a little more creative this Christmas by finding Derek's soulmate and stuffing him in a box with a pretty bow on top.
Stiles Stilinski, Magical PI by suzvoy (1/1 | 21K | Mature)
Stiles is a Private Investigator, only not really. He's also magical, but only close up. One thing he's really good at is lusting over people from afar, which is why it's a problem when Laura Hale hires him to help her brother.
Wanted and Wounded by RoxyRosee (3/3 | 12K | Explicit)
Derek can't seem to get off. It's been days with no luck, and he's constantly on edge. But then pack night rolls around, and when Stiles falls into him as he goes to sit down on the couch, Derek is suddenly coming, right where he sits. Turns out, Stiles is his mate. And among a whole slew of embarrassing side effects to this whole "mate" thing is the fact that Derek will never again be able to have an orgasm without Stiles by his side. So yeah, Derek's life kind of sucks right now.
Welcome to the Jingle by Jmeelee (1/1 | 1K | Mature)
Derek could admit—only to himself, of course, never out loud—that he was a little desperate to make new holiday traditions with his (officially all adults now thank god) pack. But his ideas had run more along the lines of a cozy take-out dinner at his new apartment, an ugly sweater or white elephant party, or maybe volunteering at the local soup kitchen. It had not involved spending Christmas Eve at Jungle.
Hey Dad, Derek Hale Is In My Room. Bring Your Gun. by fairytalesandfolklore (1/1 | 767 | Teen)
Being the Sheriff's kid is hard enough. Having a seemingly over-protective father who's more concerned about your bad influence than your ex-murder-suspect werewolf boyfriend is so much worse.
"The point is, I'm an adult," he amends, heaving a weary sigh as he attempts to salvage whatever is left of his dignity. "I can make my own decisions, and I choose Derek. He makes me happy. He's a good guy. He treats me well. He looks out for me, keeps me safe. He's responsible and respectful and a complete gentleman, and I really think that if you just got to know him a little better, you'd really—" The Sheriff holds up a hand, effectively cutting Stiles off mid-ramble. "I like Derek just fine," he says, and the smile that spreads across his face is warm and genuine. "You do?" Stiles falters, completely thrown. "Wait, so then why—" The Sheriff's fond smile turns to one of wry amusement. "It's you I don't trust, Stiles," he says around a hearty chuckle. "I've raised you for 18 years, I know exactly what kind of mischief you're capable of. Wouldn't want you dragging that nice, respectable boy into any trouble."
The Hoodie by PersePhonesDreams (1/1 | 1K | General)
Stiles didn’t mean to keep Derek’s hoodie—really, he didn’t. But the oversized, ridiculously soft thing quickly became his favorite comfort item, a piece of Derek he couldn’t quite let go of. It’s not like Derek would notice anyway... right? When Derek unexpectedly shows up at Stiles’ window one quiet night, Stiles’ not-so-secret attachment to the hoodie is exposed, leading to a conversation that changes everything. Cue awkward confessions, teasing smiles, and the realization that maybe Derek doesn’t mind Stiles keeping more than just his hoodie.
Over the Hedge(witch) by rororowyourboat (1/1 | 7K | Teen)
Derek moves into a new house with Laura and he is flustered by the hot gardener next door who is always just slightly dirty.
And When I Wake You're There I'm Saved by suchfun (1/1 | 14K | Teen)
"Derek," Stiles says, firm. His hand is warm on Derek's shoulder. "I'll be okay." "You didn't leave me," Derek argues. "How can you expect me to leave you?" Stiles rolls his eyes. "Oh my god, it'll be fine. Even if I am captured, I'm just a boring human. They wanted you for your Lycan blood." Derek crosses his arms. Mainly so he doesn't wrap his hands around Stiles' throat in an attempt to throttle some sense into him. "That's fine. But this isn't a time when being a boring human is an asset. This is a time when being a boring human results in a shot to the head." "Derek," Stiles says again. He steps closer, so Derek is surrounded in his scent, his chemosignals—namely unwavering, resolute determination, distinctively sharp and entirely unbreakable—clouding Derek's mind. "You'll come back for me." He sounds so sure, and he can tell the exact moment Derek gives in. Because Derek somehow always gives in to Stiles. "I'll come back for you," he confirms. "And you better not be dead." Stiles grins, eyes sparkling with far too much humour for someone who potentially just sacrificed himself for a surly Lycan and bunch of strangers. "You do say the sweetest things."
Remember What's Lost by AMatchInWater (1/1 | 7K | Explicit)
Wild Hunt AU, Stiles gets taken and Derek instantly knows something is wrong with his memory, but just doesn't know what until Lydia calls him, begging for his help to get Stiles back because she thinks they have the strongest connection. When Derek saves Stiles he stops at nothing to finally get what's his.
princecharmingwinks special mention (this fic has a heck of a lot of emotions and when Derek fell to his knees, my heart broke. you gotta read it to find out why! don't worry I will never read or rec unhappy endings)
Horizons into Battlegrounds by AClosedFicIsNeverRead (1/1 | 15K | Explicit)
Derek has always kept his distance from Stiles, refusing to act on his instinctive desire for the pale, doe-eyed human. But at what cost? When circumstances reveal the horrors that Stiles has suffered due to Derek's self-imposed distance, will the Alpha be able to make it right before it's too late? ______________________________________________________ “Who are you to the pack?” the hunter asked. “I’m nobody.” Stiles answered plainly. And a harsh chill ran through Derek’s body. His breath caught in his throat because… because Stiles’ heart… it had remained steady. Stiles… actually believed that. Believed that he was ‘nobody.’ How could Stiles believe that?
That is all for 2024 my friends! Please remember to give kudos and leave comments for all our amazing Sterek writers. I know I'd be lost without you all. Thank you!
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kurogxrix · 1 year ago
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Stomach Empty, Heart Full
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[part 2]
Viking!Bucky x Wife!reader
IN WHICH you’re sick and refuse to eat, but it’s nothing that your beefy husband Bucky can’t help with.
WC: 2.5k
Warnings: vague mentions of smut, mentions of puke, beefy!bucky, INACCURATE VIKING UNITS, pregnancy(?).
A/N: my mom is the BIGGEST viking fan and yet idk anything abt em so…yes everything about this is inaccurate. From their beds to their huts but it’s fiction so who CARES.
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A huge campfire was bustling outside your hut, that you knew. The sounds of men and women alongside their noisy children made the headache currently gnawing at your head just about 10 times worse. You’d been lying sick since this morning and if you were being honest with yourself, all you craved was for a good sip of water alongside the company of your dear husband. 
Talking of, Bucky had been gone for far too long now. Even though he’d just gone on his regular routine as a fellow warrior, it helped that they’d only gone out to hunt that morning. 
You suddenly winced as the high pitched wail of a kid adventuring far too close to your hut breached your ear drums, and from the thud that you’d heard a split second before, he’d taken a nasty fall to himself. It didn’t help that his father had chosen the front of your hut opening to reprimand his son, the headache feeling like it would burst out from your head and carve a hole through your skin at any moment now. 
You couldn’t tell what sort of sickness you’d picked up on, but hell if you wouldn’t give up anything in your possession in that instant for an ounce of relief. Your stomach yelled at you for food, but the ache in your head only increased the growing nausea that came with your illness. You were sure that once you’d be healed and back on your feet, you’d kill whichever scum had passed on their bug to you. 
Comfort only came as you curled over yourself, soft blankets warming you, the stitches and patches of soft furs from all sorts of animals that Bucky had hunted and skinned for you. You missed your husband so, so much more in your sick haze. Your eyes finally started to droop as you felt your body giving in to slumber, which was hard prior to the insane pounding at the far back of your head.  
It didn’t take long for your vision to darken, your rumbling stomach being the furthest of your worries as a faint smile overtook your features as you felt the headache begin to dissipate as sleep pulled you in its arms. You could almost taste it, the sweet and victorious taste of relief, when- 
“You are not joining us tonight?” And there it was, the pounding in your head almost immediately punched back to life at the loud sound of whoever that was that had breached your hut. You groaned in dismay, turning around reluctantly to find your sister looking at you in confusion. It didn’t help with the fact that she was your sibling, but at that instant you wanted nothing more than to rip her hairs straight from the root and craft yourself a rag doll with them out of spite. 
“Get out.” you mumbled before rolling back, not missing the way her eyebrows furrowed at your rudeness. You’d treat her a little better if you felt a little better, but you didn’t, and to add to that the only person that you wanted with you right now was probably fighting off whatever beast was hiding in the forest. 
She did, however, listen to you for what felt like the first time in your entire life as sisters. A content sigh left your lips at the newfound silence, as silent as it could be with a meal in preparation happening outside. Finally, you felt the warm arms of slumber welcoming you again in the embrace that you seeked so much, and it felt a little too good to be true. Maybe because you had a knack for jinxing yourself, but the sound of the hut door creaking again had you close to tears. 
The sound of metal colliding against the floor however, gave you a brief idea that it was in fact not your sister. You didn’t have it in you to greet your husband, instead choosing to wallow in your pain as you held yourself like a dying child. You didn’t hear much from Bucky but the rustling of something that sounded big and meaty, probably a catch that he’d brought home to skin later. 
On his side, Bucky was confused as to why you weren’t outside with the other people. It wasn’t that you didn’t know that the feast had arrived, and if you’d fallen asleep, the doubling in noise would’ve surely awakened even the deafest foe. He contemplated waking you up before his blue eyes fell upon the bucket of water by the door, as full as it was before he’d left home that morning.
With his eyebrow furrowed, Bucky kneeled beside you in all of his silence. You could hear the trinkets attached to his belt clanking against one another, his booted feet causing a heavy thud against the floor. 
“You haven’t drunk, you haven’t eaten.” he stated as a matter of fact, and your undying silence threw him off. He’d been your husband long enough to know that you weren’t sleeping, eyelids shut as a decoy more than anything. The beefy brunette sighed at your actions, eyes flickering between the  abandoned wooden plate that harboured his food, waiting for him in all of its loneliness. The cut of meat had his mouth salivating for a taste, after all he had been gone all day to bring back food for his people, why shouldn’t he enjoy it? 
Yet, he just couldn’t get himself to as he eyed your curled figure. There must’ve been a reason why you hadn’t bothered to take care of yourself today, of course there must’ve been one, and as your husband - it was all the more his duty to care for you. There was no resentment or obligations in his actions, only love. 
One of Bucky’s palms slid under your cheek, disconnecting your face from its warm place upon the layers of furs. You whined in dismay, but Bucky didn’t falter. His huge palm covered half of your face, his thumb rubbing at your cheek with inclination. You felt your body relax once more as he slowly let go, as much as you’d normally complain, this time you felt happy as your cheek made contact with the blanket once more. 
Your peace didn't last long, not when you had a burly husband who had enough force to take down a 300 pound beast on his own. You gasped suddenly as you felt his arms wrapping themselves around you, before pulling you into the warmth of a familiar torso. You wasted no time getting comfortable, you head pushing impossibly further into the firm flesh of his chest to serve as a pillow. It didn’t faze Bucky, blue iris simply gazing down at your slithering form. 
“You haven’t eaten today,” he states again, and this time you’d actually taken the courage to look up at him, eyelids pushing away from each other painfully slowly as you tried to adjust to the dim light of the oil lamps burning by the side of the hut. You could feel his warm palm slowly inching itself into caressing your back through the material of your dress, the beaded necklace that you wore squished between the both your bodies. 
Bucky didn’t ask, he could tell that you were ill and you had no intentions of talking if you didn’t feel well. So he did what he could, a hand digging into the meat in his plate to rip a fat piece off. You watched in dismay as his hands dragged to your mouth, pausing before you closed lips as you refused him access. 
“You’ll be even more ill if you don’t eat, come on.” his gruffly voice sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the ends of his long, auburn hair tickling your cheeks as the wind whistled past the cracks of your shared hut. Your nose involuntarily scrunched at the smell of the meat before you, which you normally loved like all people in your village. Bucky took notice of your discomfort, lowering his hand slightly to prevent you from puking all over him and the place. 
You made a sound of frustration, sick and tired of being sick and tired. You simply wanted to eat and all the more drink but your body just wouldn’t let you do any of it. So sick that tears pricked at your waterline again, resurfacing the throbbing headache that'd been killing you since this morning. 
You couldn’t even have told when the sob had burst through your mouth, but it had apparently and it didn’t fail to startle the hulk of a man you were lucky to call your husband. In a split second, the food was dropped back in the discarded plate, and his hands were quick to carelessly wipe clean against his cloak with little to no care for it. 
Bucky’s heart was hardened from the series of events that’d turmoiled his life from his birth, being a viking was anything but easy. He’d bathed in blood, his own like not, he was scarred mentally just as physically. Yet, he was fierce with a shell as hard as rock to carry his sorrows in. Despite all, nothing hurt Bucky like seeing you upset, or even worse in this scenario, hurt. 
Cradling your head to his chest, he tilted your head softly towards his own as you cried upon his chest. It was weird seeing a woman such as yourself cry over something that couldn’t be seen, yet enough described because your words wouldn’t even allow you to. So to say that Bucky was worried was an understatement, you’d never cried over something so minor, best to deduct that it wasn’t.
“I’ll go and fetch the lach, better hope that Thyra has the herbs to fix you a remedy.” he spoke more to himself than to you, referring to the village healer. You didn’t want him to go though, you’d spent enough time on this miserable day away from the only man you’d wish to see, so you weren’t about to let him go. 
“No, I can handle it until daytime. I just want to eat…I’ll try the meat again.” Bucky looked down at you in hesitance, remembering the way you looked so sick at the approach of his food. Nevertheless, he brought the food back up to your mouth, and you had to fight the inner battle to not throw up now and then. He could see your struggles, yet he only focused on your determination. 
You chewed slowly so as to not upset your stomach further, giving Bucky the time he needed for him to get a taste of his own meal as well. Sure, the cut was barely enough for a man of his size but at least he’d get you to eat, he could always go out and get some more once you were satiated. His hand that wasn’t busy feeding the both of you was still glued to your back, keeping you flushed against his chest as he sat legs crossed amongst the many blankets. 
You couldn’t help with the way your heart soared at his worry, at his care, and at his love. Sure he wasn’t the most verbally expressive man, but his actions meant more to you than any I-Love-Yous. The way his fingers curled against your side as a measure of extreme protection had you weak in the knees, and that said a lot considering you weren’t even standing. 
By the time you’d both exhausted whatever food was on his plate, Bucky’s skilled hand worked for water. Grabbing a cup from the side, he sought water from the bucket by your front door. He took a drink first, draining the cup in two quick gulps. You watched as he served himself another cup, a drop of water dribbling past his beardy chin and onto the defined curve of his Adam's apple. 
Fuck and if he didn’t just look so hot, you’d really gotten the finest pick of all men in your village. You lifted an unsuspecting hand up to his cheek, the prickly feeling of his beard against your palm made a shiver run down your spine. So much for all the days he’d spent buried between your legs, you felt a ghost of the burn you’d feel on your inner thighs at the friction everytime. 
The sounds of water sloshing around brought you out of your daydreams, finally receiving the end of the cup as he lifted the edge to your lips. You liked everything about this, getting pampered while laying in your husband's arms. You couldn’t possibly have gotten two sips down your throat before-
“Maybe I should call the midwife to check on you tomorrow.” Bucky randomly blurted out, and you swore you’d never accidently taken a gulp of water this big before. The choking came first, then the excessive coughing fits before the headache resurfaced again. Now maybe you’d rethought everything, maybe you didn’t want to spend the rest of the night with Bucky anymore. 
His hands quickly abandoned the cup to rub at your back, some silent apology of some sorts for surprising you, and eventually causing you to choke. 
“You don’t think…” you looked up at your husband after you had calmed down, expectant baby blue iris staring right back at yours. Your lips were slightly parted in the confoundment of his words, you found yourself unable to speak past your sentence. You didn’t know any contraceptives further than a remedy of herbs, spells and whatnot the untrustworthy pull-out method. Yet even if  Bucky had been very obedient when it came to following that way, there were some days where he just couldn’t help himself.
His silence made you sigh to yourself, but you didn’t feel like speaking further yourself. The hut fell into a peaceful silence as you both wallowed in the other's presence, soaking each other's affection through soft touches and occasional prayers.You closed your eyes once more for the night, allowing yourself to fully sink into your husband’s burly arms.
Bucky didn’t complain, waiting for your shoulders to fall limp in indication that you’d finally submitted to the slumber you so craved. Now that you were sleeping, tucked and fed, he could finally go out and reach for a serving more appropriate for a man of his size. Though he staggered for a second, kneeling besides your sleeping form along the blankets that he’d arranged over you. 
He moved the blanket properly after noticing that you’d already managed to mess up the ‘bed’ despite being dreams deep into your sleep. Bucky allowed his hand to hover over your stomach, before providing extra heat to the area that crossed his palm. He watched as your lips twitched into a smile in your sleep, his thumb uncontrollably caressing at the clothed area at the sight of your delight. 
A rare smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips, something that only you and his family had gotten to experience more often. His hand left your stomach as he rose to his feet, a distant dream of an infant swaddled by green cloth burning by the back of his mind. He didn’t turn back as he left the tent, stomach empty but heart full. 
-
i’m working on 2 requests rn but i’ll be busy all weekend so expect a fic by next friday‼️
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machisneedle · 21 days ago
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hiiii! can I request some hcs (fluff + smut) for chrollo (or any other troupe members) if they have a husband/wife from meteor city (who he grew up with)?
im just rlly tired of ppl constantly making the pt k!snap their s/o’s tbh😕
ty!!!!!
Ofc I can !! <3 also I agree with the kidnapping part , I struggle to find good troupe content that isn't grr yandere zaddy kidnaps you. No hate to those who like that though !
phantom troupe members w a S/O they grew up with !! 🕷️ྀི` .
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✧ characters in this are chrollo , feitan , shalnark , pakunoda
✧ content : headcanon format , fluff , smut / not safe for work content , fingering , oral , p in v ( chrollo , feitan , shalnarks part) , angst / death on pakus , also I don't really know how to write male or gn reader so I just did fem !! I hope that's ok.
!! Minors, please do not interact with this post !!
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Chrollo 🕷️ྀི` .
✧ growing up with chrollo before the incident with Sarasa's death would be quite sweet tbh , staying up late together , talking about finding new tapes to perform and dub over. You were always a constant in his life , which was comforting for him.
✧ after the trauma of Sarasa's death , It just made him need you around him more. that need for you to be safe lasts into his adult years. This man is so protective of you , not in a cliche get away from my girl type way , no its in the way that your safety is on his mind alot. Especially with the line of work he's in. Probably keeps a troupe member with you at most times when he's not home , just in case.
✧ with the fact you grew up together , you already knew the troupe before it existed , so it would be something he couldn't really hide from you.
✧ I'm a firm believer in that chrollo is suffering from insomnia or some disorder that is similar. like this man is never asleep first when you're both in bed , when he finally puts his book away to sleep you can feel his arms snake around your waist as he breathes in your nostalgic scent. He doesn't get many times to relax nor to be so close to you due to the troupe, but he enjoys these moments more than anything , It brings him back to a simpler time.
✧ you both visit meteor City quiet abit (i'd also like to think you got married there) , seeing you pass out new clothes and food to the kids who live there warms his heart , it makes him remember why he fell for you in the first place.
✧ you were his first time and the only woman he wants to pleasure. I feel like growing up with him makes being intimate just that much more passionate , he fucks you like he might never see you again (which is a possibility If he isnt careful enough with protecting you , the reality makes his heart ache.) . Whispering the dirtiest but softest praises into your ear , acting like he isn't making you moan so loud under him , your voice might give out.
✧ this man eats pussy SO well , after the first time he eats you out your just stunned for a second , like what magic did this man just cast on your pussy to make you feel this good. He probably read a book about it or something. Also defo would eat you out because he likes it not for anything in return , your needs come first for him.
✧ about seeing you helping out the kids in meteor City thing I mentioned. when your home be ready. He doesn't have a breeding kink , but the thought of you taking care of his child and doing motherly activities makes him so happy he can't help but want to get you pregnant the second you close the front door. Get ready for a long night , he has stamina , and he won't be stopping till you're absolutely full of his loads. He'd whisper to you how "I should of done this so much sooner , my darling" or "feeling you this raw is pure bliss... like I'm fully claiming you in body and mind."
✧ 100% into cock warming you while reading a book. No one will change my opinion.
Feitan🕷️ྀི` .
✧ when you first met him , he avoided you like the plague. Honestly , at first you thought he hated your guts. Whenever you hung out with him and his friends , he'd refuse to reply to you but he didn't mean it in a rude way he just didn't want to embarrass himself around you because of how bad his english was.
✧ phinks eventually told you why he wouldn't talk to you , which made you feel somewhat bad ? To communicate with him for a while , you used a pen and some paper you found in the garbage heeps writing down what you said to help him learn some English.
✧ the first time hearing his voice is SHOCKING , he wrote down how he didn't want to because it sounded bad but you thought his voice was soothing which you told him , making him a bit more comfortable around you.
✧ As he grew up , he got more reserved but you didn't care sticking to him like glue , he could complain as much as he wanted saying you where wasting your time being around him or that it's too dangerous for you to stick with him but his words never held any malice more concern that you would get hurt by something or his actions but he'd never admit to having such 'weak' thoughts.
✧ like chrollo , he's another protective boy , but he doesn't trust anyone else with protecting you but himself. Would break someone's neck for looking at you in a way he didn't like , oh and don't even get me started if someone tries to hit on you because they think he's just some short loser who got lucky... let's just say later that night you will hear some screaming coming from the basement (aka where he does his work).
✧ you definitely know about the troupe , he's probably the only one who will outright tell you before you can ask. I mean , he literally tortures people... when you move in together , he literally can't hide it , so he's just honest with you. Another thing if the screams from the basement freak you out and you complain he probably will be grumpy about it , but he will line the walls down there to make it not as loud.
✧ for feitan knowing him from childhood will 100% be the easiest way for him to be comfortable around you , feitan just doesn't like people to be honest but your company is actually enjoyable for him.
✧ another cute thing I can imagine is him trying to teach you his native language like you taught him some English. You telling him you love him in his native tongue... the things that does to him.
✧ both of your firsts times are with each other. Honestly , sometimes you doubt he would have ever even had sex if it wasn't for you. Your first time was... not the best because you both had no idea what to do really , but after that mess of a first time , he definitely went to chrollo or phinks for advice. Another thing is not to make fun of him for it , it would really hurt his ego and he'd probably avoid you for a couple weeks.
✧ he is still a total sadist don't get me wrong but with you he's softer , he can't bring himself to hurt you alot. The worst he can do is bite you or slap you , anything else makes him feel icky because it reminds him of his work too much. He still finds your tears really hot though , and will overstim you just to see them.
✧ the first time he finger you , it was surprising how good he was with his hands (for a torturer , I guess you have to be). He's so unfair when he fingers you , he hits spots so deep you see colours then he'll pull back just near your climax saying he didn't say you could finish yet with a dumb smirk on his face as tears threaten to fall from your pathetic looking eyes.
✧ probably doesn't want kids even if you knew him that long his opinion wouldn't change , if you asked he'd say "no. I dont like kids" but really , he didn't mind kids he just didn't want to bring more kids into a world like this.
✧ super random but has eaten you out in your period before , he doesn't think it's a big deal... like he's around blood everyday ? What difference does it make.
Shalnark 🕷️ྀི` .
✧ he definitely mocked and teased you a lot when you were younger. Stealing your shoes when you where acting on the stage with everyone else or messing up your cute braids in your hair , but he never meant it in a mean way , it was his weird way of showing he liked you.
✧ probably the only one out of the guys to realise he had a crush on you as a kid , would cope by being even more of a little shit to you till he went to far one day and actually upset you , which led to admitting he was only mean to you because he had a silly little crush.
✧ this man is sooo clingy to you , he gives pathetic vibes like you can't leave this mf alone for a couple hours without getting messages like , 'babeeee I miss you (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )' and 'come homeeee pretty please ? 。°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°。' (yes I believe he uses emoticons). When he's busy on troupe work he's calling you every hour it feels like , feeding you some lies about being on a work trip.
✧ he wouldn't be honest about the troupe with you. You know all the members as you grew up with them , but he thought leaving you in the dark was better. If you asked too many questions , he'd probably tell you you're being delulu. he doesn't want to lie to you but your safety is too important to him and he knows he isn't like feitan and chrollo , he can't always protect you.
✧ he's not yandere , but he is a bit obsessed with you , having cameras in the rooms in his house so he can watch you when he's lonely on a mission. He wouldn't take advantage of the fact he can see you without you knowing , if you started to change clothes or something , he'd turn the screen off. If he wanted to see you naked he'd literally just ask for nudes or look at old pics you sent him.
✧ your first time was... Good ? Shalnark actually knew what to do , mostly from how much porn he's watched to prepare for the day he finally got to do it. Side note he also made you finish during your first time.
✧ he's such a service top when he doms , he struggles to tease you because of how needy for him you sound , can you blame him though when you look so pretty under him ?
✧ whenever he is busy on work for the troupe but he misses you , he always ends up calling you even if you're in public , whispering sweet praises into your ear through the phone asking you to go to somewhere private because he misses you. "Baby... please ? It's been a week and I'm so needy for you" his whiney voice would beg at you , he was too cute to deny.
✧ he loves seeing you in really girly lingerie. It makes you look so innocent that he feels bad for having such perverse thoughts about you.
Pakunoda 🕷️ྀི` .
✧ while you were trying to catch an injured kitten to help it , crawling over the heep of trash it ran over , you saw a blonde young girl you soon learned who's name was pakunoda holding it , softly stroking its fur as it snuggled up into her. Her caring and nurturing personality has been known since the day you met her.
✧ you two were like two peas in a pod , always cheering her on in the audience when she was on stage with the rest of her friends acting out the tapes. It was so silly , but you both had made a pinky promise that when you grew up you would get married.
✧ after Sarasa's death , she abandoned you to focus on the troupe. She left you with a kiss on the cheek and a "I promise when we grow up , I'll find you... and I won't stop till I do." Being forced out as she looked at your form , hands shaking tears forming and soft begs for her not to leave.
✧ you had no clue how she did it but after you left meteor City and moved to yorknew she found you , waiting for her felt like waiting for glue to dry and when she came back she refused to ever leave you again.
✧ she isn't possessive I'd say , but she does sometimes check your memories to make sure you don't do anything bad when she isn't around. She doesn't worry about your safety as much as the others also because no one knows your her s/o but you both.
✧ she told you about the troupe after you demanded an explanation for her leaving you , though she didn't explain her nen ability to you yet mainly just because she doesn't think you're ready for that.
✧ got you a cat called ophelia , it reminds her of how you both first met and she also likes for you to have company when she's busy.
✧ you weren't each others first times , but with how loving and passionate it felt like it was your first time , you would never forget the feeling of her nails running down your spine as she whispered sweet nothings into your ears , leaving lipstick marks on your jaw.
✧ she doesn't like strap-ons , Likes to think her hands and mouth are enough to make you fulfilled , but if you ask her to use a vibrator on you she wouldn't mind.
✧ LOVES when you sit on her face , her nose is built for grinding on as she eats you out. If you were worried about crushing her , she'd spend a good couple minutes lecturing you about your weight was nothing to her and if she did 'die' being crushed by you , it would be a perfectly fine death for her in her mind.
✧ you would only learn about her nen ability when she found out she was the one to have to go get the boss. She had called you after telling the troupe about you , then explained the situation , asking you to go to the location of the troupes base incase this was the last time she could contact you.
✧ after she got kurapikas chain around her heart , she already knew her fate. After the deal went well getting the boss back , she came to the troupes base. Your wet eyes looked at her as you ran to her , falling to your knees , hugging waist. She felt guilty knowing what she was about to do. she ended up using a memory bullet on you instead of one of the troupe members , you deserve an explanation after you spent most of your life waiting for her.
✧ after her death , you kept her gun , keeping it as your last reminder of her you could bare to keep around yourself. Every once in a while , someone in the troupe would send u a message from a random number to see if you were okay the first year after. You were also set for life as everything she had went to you , but it never filled that hole in your heart.
✧ that promise of marriage never happened , huh ?
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Omg I got abit carried away on pakus LOL. But I hope you enjoy <3
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fairene · 7 months ago
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beneath the moonlight / ln4 sneak peek
lando norris x maxf!sister(afab)
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warning ⋯ language, 18++ mentioning, minors dni.
a/n ⋯ requests still open, but are closing soon. i will be wanting to clear out my ask box as soon as possible. beneath the moonlight is a concept created by one of you!!! and i am excited to share it once it is done. it is currently sitting at 5.2k words, but i hope to double it by next week to post this for you all. the overwhelming support and comments truly makes my day, and i want everyone to know that i cherish the absolute fuck out of you. stay shining, lovelies, and i hope you enjoy this sneak peek.
reader is max fewtrell's younger sister. childhood yearning. oblivious young lando, turned grown man. smut coming with full fic (18++ only), wc: 701 (just for the sneak peek obvs. unedited as well.)
you said nothing but began to walk, trailing forward through the grandeur villa. you were ample with your pace and heard him moving behind you. with a push of your hand, you opened the door to the grand balcony, leaving it ajar for lando to sneak out from. 
he did. 
there was a patio set there, waiting, and you let your handbag drop onto the coffee table. you sauntered over to the cobblestone walls, the balustrade meeting post to post for about thirty feet. you leaned against the stone. it was cold against your bare back. 
lando seated himself in one of the chairs, his legs spreading wide. he watched you lean forward, then spin to face him. your back was illuminated by the halo of the moonlight, drenching you in a pale visage of beauty. 
“you wanna know something?” you asked. lando perked up, humming with curiosity. he was too busy admiring your figure, having to pull himself back from such tumultuous thoughts. “i had a crush on you when i was a kid.”
that stifled a laugh from the british driver. “you did not.” 
you shook your head. “sure did.” you didn’t know why you were telling him this all of a sudden, but it was weighing heavy on your mind. “max was pissed. knew i only came around when he told me you’d be there.” 
the pieces began melding together in lando’s mind. he had been such an idiot boy that he couldn’t see what a prized beauty you were. there was a trace of second hand guilt. a pattern of ‘what-ifs’ trifling through his mind. 
“‘was just a stupid girl. tried so hard for you to notice me.” your hands covered your face for a brief moment. 
“you always wore skirts,” he recalled, looking at his hands in his lap. he looked up at you, smirk building. “that why?” 
you were shameless when you nodded your head. 
“so embarrassing, i know–” 
“what about now?” he cut you off, clearly wanting to ask this question the moment it left your lips. 
“what do you mean?” your mouth went dry, your hands clasping at the balustrade as if you were going to faint. your heart pounded in your chest. 
“what do you feel for me now?” 
you couldn’t meet his eye. you looked anywhere else but him, in fact, and opted to over your shoulder to admire the view of the ocean beneath the starlight. the ocean wouldn’t judge you. it would wash away your problems, in fact, and not stare you down. 
there was a deep intake of breath that had your head settling from its dizzy state. you looked back to lando and he sat there, cocky, upright. but there was a genteel nature about him that didn’t have you as afraid as you thought you’d be. 
he raised his arm, outstretching his hand for you. 
you swallowed, pushing yourself off from the balustrade. you sauntered towards him, earnest in your steps, before letting your palm rest on his. 
he pulled you close, fingers wrapping against your wrist. he was warm to the touch and he could feel your erratic heartbeat in your veins. 
lando’s legs spread for you to settle between. you stood above him, looking down at his brunette curls, his stubble, his cheekbones. his own hands were experimental against the planes of your body, touching sweetly against your hips. 
“you didn’t answer me.” he repeated.
you crossed your arms over your chest. 
“some dreams just remain dreams.” 
he waited a beat. you felt his chest rise and fall. 
“do you want to dream forever?” 
no. no. you didn’t. you wanted your fantasies to become reality. being with him. being loved by him has always been what you wanted. 
you lowered yourself on his lap, straddling his waist. you felt his cock thrum beneath the guard of his pants. did he want you the same? 
his forehead collided with yours. his nose brushing against your bridge. you shook your head, closing your eyes. 
“wake me up,” you mewled quietly, voice deep within your throat. it was a desperate plea, one that you thought he may not understand until he caught the glint in your eye. the wanting. the years of pining from a distance. how he was so wrapped up in his boyhood that he couldn’t appreciate a woman at his side. “please.” 
he didn’t wait any longer to meet your lips with his own. 
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