#there are two that i’m looking at and one of them is a focus on love sexuality and gender which im leaning towards but the other one also

[pickingupmymercedes]

Can't check out - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

request: "yn and Lewis are secretly dating and yn works in Mercedes, they have an argument and after work yn doesn’t go to his room to sleep, but goes to hers, and Lewis gets even madder and goes to her room, and then you know what happens" - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, angry sex

Wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +4k

a/n: I've had this one half written for a bit but couldn't quite get the switch right, the past two gp's were perfect for it though. Hope you like lovely.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

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The door to the engineering room slid open with a soft hiss, and Lewis stepped inside, still carrying the frustration from the debrief. His hand firmly grasped on his phone as his eyes searched the dimly lit space.

Rows of desks and computer screens cast a pale glow over the one engineer still hunched over her workstation—Y/n, her eyes glued to the screen in front of her, fingers dancing over the keyboard.

“Y/n,” Lewis called, his voice low, almost casual, as he approached her station.

She didn’t look up, her focus entirely on the screen. Her jaw was set, brows furrowed in concentration.

Anyone could see the stress in the tightness of her shoulders, the way her fingers moved like they had something to prove.

“Y/n,” he said again, this time with more insistence as he stopped by her desk. “You’ve been here all night. Come with me. Let’s grab something to eat.”

“Can’t, Lewis” she muttered, still not sparing him a glance. “I’m in the middle of something”

Lewis sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He wasn’t in the mood for this, not after the nightmare of Baku and now Singapore. The car still nowhere near where it needed to be.

He could tell she was taking it personally, that the car’s performance was something she couldn’t separate from her own self-worth, but it was eating her alive.

“You’ve been staring at that screen for hours” he said, his voice softening just a fraction. “Come on, take a break. You’ll think better after some food.”

Finally, Y/n looked up, and her eyes were burning with irritation. “You think this is about ‘taking a break’? Really?” Her voice sharper than he expected.

He frowned, caught off guard. “I’m just saying—”

“I know what you’re saying,” she cut him off, standing up and folding her arms across her chest. “You think it’ll be fine if I take break because you’re just fine coasting through this weekend. But I can’t afford to do that, Lewis.”

“Coasting?” His tone hardened, the frustration he’d been pushing down starting to come up. “You think I’m coasting through this?”

She stepped closer, eyes flashing as she met his gaze. “Aren’t you? I heard what you said in that interview today. You’ve already given up on this weekend. Hell, you’ve probably already given up on this team.”

His jaw clenched. “Y/n”

“I know you’ve got your perfect seat at Ferrari next year,” she snapped, her voice rising, “but I need this job to work for me, Lewis. I can’t just check out.”

Lewis’s face hardened, the weight of her words settling heavily between them. She’d always been the one to back him up, to understand when things were tough.

“You really think that’s what I’m doing?” His voice was quieter now, but there was a simmering anger underneath it. “You think I’m just here, going through the motions, like none of this matters to me?”

Y/n’s expression didn’t waver. “You’re not the one whose career is tied to this car’s performance.”

Lewis stepped back, running a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. “You think I don’t care about the car? About this team?” His voice was tight, but controlled. “You’ve no idea how much pressure I’m under. But sure, keep assuming I’m checked out because I’m not losing my mind over it.”

She didn’t answer, the tension between them suffocating.

“I’ll be at the hotel,” he finally said, voice flat. “I’ll wait for you, if you decide to actually talk instead of throw knives.”

Y/n stood there, staring at the door long after he’d gone, her heart racing, frustration still boiling under her skin.

She hated that he’d gotten to her, but she hated even more that she knew she had messed up.

The soft ping of her phone snapped her out of her trance. Yet another message from Lewis.

Where are you?

It was nearly 2 a.m., and Y/n was now in her own hotel room, but still working.

Her eyes burned from hours of staring at data, her body aching from the tension she carried in her shoulders. She knew she should have stopped hours ago, that the night races in Singapore didn’t excuse her pushing herself this far, but she couldn’t help it.

The car was nowhere, and every setup she ran through still led them in circles.

She ignored the message, her fingers pressing harder into the keyboard, trying to drown out the gnawing frustration.

There were moments where she could forget that outside these numbers, setups, and telemetry, there was more—her life, her relationship with Lewis, her sanity. But tonight, wasn’t one of those moments.

His earlier words still lingered in her mind like a bad taste.

"Coasting through the weekend," she muttered bitterly to herself.

Another ping. She looked at her phone for a second and then shoved it back into her pocket. She wasn’t ready to talk to him. Not that night, at least.

Time passed in a blur, the numbers on her screen blending together until her concentration wavered, exhaustion settling in.

2:45 a.m. A knock at the door.

Her heart sank. She knew exactly who it was.

Y/n slowly walked to the door and opened it, revealing a very irritated and slightly disheveled Lewis.

He was dressed in his sweats, his face drawn with concern and annoyance. His eyes scanned her face, clearly taking in her exhaustion.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice flat.

Lewis crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “You didn’t answer my texts.”

“Busy. What do you want?”

He stepped closer; the frustration evident in his posture. “You’re busy? It’s almost three in the morning, Y/n.”

She shrugged, keeping her voice cold. “I don’t have the luxury of clocking out when things don’t go well.”

Lewis’s eyes narrowed. “Not this again, Y/n”

Y/n crossed her arms, mirroring his stance. “I think you don’t get it, Lewis. You’re already halfway out the door. Ferrari’s waiting for you, and you’re just counting the days. I’m the one who’s stuck here trying to figure out how to make this work.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You really think I don’t care about what’s happening?”

“I think you’re putting your feelings ahead of everything else,” she shot back, the words laced with bitterness. “I’m out there trying to make something of this car, and you—” She gestured at him, frustrated by his calm demeanor. “You’re here playing the ‘it’ll be fine’ card. It’s not fine, Lewis. It’s a disaster.”

Lewis’s gaze darkened, his voice steady but firm. “I never said it was fine.”

“Might as well have,” she retorted. “You think I don’t see it? The way you’re handling things, pretending it doesn’t affect you, when deep down, you’ve already checked out.”

His expression shifted, the cool, nonchalant mask cracking just slightly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t I?” Y/n scoffed, feeling the anger bubble up inside her. She wanted to hurt him the way she was hurting.

“What happened to the guy who fought for every inch on track, the one who wouldn’t rest until everything was perfect? Now you’re here, telling me to relax, to take it easy. It’s bullshit, Lewis.”

Lewis stared at her, his silence only fueling her frustration. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a mocking tone.

“Where’s the cutthroat guy who would have had me pinned to the wall by now? Instead, I’ve got this—” she waved her hand at him dismissively, “mushy, emotional guy in front of me, trying to make me ‘feel better’.”

Something shifted in Lewis’s eyes, and for a moment, she regretted saying it. His gaze hardened, his jaw clenched, and the tension in the air changed.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he said, his voice low. He was danger.

But Y/n wasn’t backing down now. She wanted to push him, to make him snap, to break through that controlled, calm mark. “Oh, I absolutely do” she shot back, her chin tilting up defiantly.

Lewis’s eyes flickered with something possessive, and in an instant, he closed the distance between them.

His hand shot out, grabbing her by the waist, pulling her flush against him. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers dug into her skin, his grip firm and unmistakably dominant.

“You think you want that?” he murmured; his breath hot against her ear. “You think you want the guy who doesn’t give a damn? Be careful what you wish for.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, her body reacting to the sudden intensity between them, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her back down.

“Show me” she whispered, her voice steady, though her pulse raced. “Show me you still give a damn.”

And that was all it took.

The last thread of Lewis’s restraint snapped, and before she could even blink, he had her pinned against the narrow table in the small entryway to her bedroom, his hands gripping her wrists, his body pressing into hers with a force that left no room for doubt.

His breath was hot against her neck. His body pressed her into the hard surface, and Y/n could feel the tension in every inch of him—the controlled anger, the dominance she’d just provoked, and the raw desire that lay beneath it all.

She felt the dominance it in the way his hands moved—fast, precise, as if he’d already decided she wasn’t ever in control.

His grip on her wrists loosened for just a second before his hands slid down her body, one hand slipping under the hem of her shirt, fingers grazing the soft skin of her stomach.

His touch was rough but deliberate, and she gasped at the sensation, already anticipating what was coming next.

Lewis’s other hand hooked around her waist, pulling her hips back into him, his body pinning her even harder against the table. “You want this?” he murmured into her ear, his lips brushing the shell of it “You want me to stop being soft?”

She barely had a second to catch her breath before his hand slipped lower, under the waistband of her pajama bottoms.

His fingers found their way instantly, brushing over her clit in a way that made her hips buck against him involuntarily.

“Lewis—” She started to say something, but he cut her off.

“Don’t even think about it” he growled, his fingers working with slow, maddening precision. “You don’t get to talk. Not now.”

Her breath hitched as he continued to tease her, the pressure of his fingers circling her clit increasing just enough to drive her crazy, but not enough to push her over the edge.

He was keeping her on a leash, and it was driving her insane.

“You think I don’t give a damn?” Lewis’s voice was rough, a contrast to the torturously slow rhythm of his fingers. “Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to remind you?”

Her legs trembled as he worked her over, her body arching into him despite the way he had her pinned to the table.

She was already close, too close, and she knew it. She could feel the tension building inside her, the heat pooling in her stomach, the familiar rush of pleasure that came before she—

But just as she just about reached the edge, he pulled back, his fingers leaving her completely.

Y/n gasped in frustration, her body shaking from the sudden denial. “Lewis!” Her voice cracked, but he wasn’t having it.

“You don’t get to come yet” he said, his voice firm, unrelenting.

She was panting, her body already strung so tight it hurt, but before she could protest, Lewis flipped her around, pressing her back into the wall.

His eyes were dark, his expression hard as he lifted her to place her effortlessly onto the edge of the small desk.

Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively and his hands found her hips, holding her in place as he leaned in, his lips crashing into hers. The kiss was rough, all teeth, his frustration matching hers as their bodies clashed against each other.

But he was still in control, and Y/n knew it. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way his hands moved as if he knew exactly how close he was driving her, how close he was to breaking her down.

He pulled back from the kiss, his breath heavy against her lips. “You don’t get to have it easy” he murmured. “Not after all the shit you said.”

His lips were on her neck then, trailing rough kisses down to her collarbone, his hands sliding under her shirt to cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, the sensation sending another jolt of heat and Y/n’s head fell back against the wall, her lips parting in a shaky moan.

And Lewis wasn’t even close to being done with the torture.

His mouth moved lower, kissing his way down her stomach until he was on his knees in front of her, his hands gripping her thighs, spreading her wide for him. He pulled her pajama bottoms down, discarding them somewhere behind him before his lips found the inside of her thigh, biting down gently on the sensitive skin.

Y/n’s body jerked in response, the anticipation nearly killing her as his lips moved higher, closer to where she needed him

“Please, Lew” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he parted her with his fingers, his mouth finally descending on her clit.

The sensation was electric, his tongue circling her slowly. Y/n’s hips kept on buckling involuntarily, her fingers tangling in his shirt as she moaned, unable to hold back the sound.

Lewis took his time, licking and sucking in a way that drove her to the edge all over again.

She felt it building, her body shaking as she neared the point of no return, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

And just when she thought she was about to fall over the edge, he stopped, again.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her hands tugging at the wood in frustration, but he didn’t relent.

“Not yet” was all he said, his voice hoarse as he looked up at her, his lips glistening.

She was a trembling mess, her body desperate for release, but Lewis wasn’t giving it to her. He stood up, towering over her as she panted, her chest heaving from the intensity of it all.

“Bed” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Y/n stumbled off the desk, her legs shaky as she moved without questioning toward the bed, Lewis right behind her.

He grabbed her waist, pushing her down onto the mattress, his body covering hers as he kissed her again, rough and demanding.

His fingers slid between her legs once more, finding her dripping, and he smirked against her lips. “You think you can take one more?” he asked, his voice mocking as he teased her, his fingers sliding inside her just enough to make her hips jerk.

“I can’t” she gasped, her body completely overwhelmed.

“Too bad” he growled, his lips brushing against her ear. “You don’t get to say when this is over.”

His fingers worked her over once more, slow and purposeful, pushing her to the brink for the third time.

Her body was shaking, every nerve on fire as she begged him, her words slurring in a desperate plea.

“Lewis. Please, I need—”

Finally, when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he let her go.

Y/n’s orgasm hit her in waves, her body convulsing as she cried out, her nails digging into his back as she came hard, trembling uncontrollably beneath him.

He didn’t stop though, his fingers still working her as she rode out the intense release, her vision going white from the force of it.

And when it was over, when her body had finally stopped shaking, she was a wreck, panting and boneless beneath him.

Lewis leaned over her, his lips brushing against her ear. “You still want more?” he asked, his voice dark and teasing.

Y/n was barely coherent, her mind fogged with pleasure, but she managed a weak smirk and chuckle.

Lewis growled low in his throat, flipping her onto her stomach. “Of course, you do.”

Lewis didn’t waste a second, his hands gripping her hips and pulling her up onto her knees.

Y/n’s face was pressed into the mattress, her breath still ragged, but she managed to turn her head slightly, catching a glimpse of him behind her, his chest heaving.

“Arch your back, love” he commanded, a low rumble.

Her body, still trembling, responded instinctively. She pushed her hips up, her back arching as she spread her knees wider.

She could feel the cool air on her slick skin, and her body ached with the need to be filled, to have him finally inside her.

But Lewis wasn’t in any rush.

His hands caressed her ass, rough palms running over the soft skin as he admired the way she trembled beneath him. She felt the unmistakable teasing of him collecting her juice with the tip of his dick.

Then, without warning, he brought his hand down sharply against her ass, the loud smack echoing in the room.

The sting was immediate. Y/n gasped, her body jolting forward as her muscles clenched in response.

Lewis chuckled darkly, leaning over her, his chest pressing into her back. “You like that, don’t you?” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot on her skin.

Y/n moaned, her fingers curling into the sheets as she tried to steady herself. “Fuck you” she breathed out, though the defiance was weak, barely a whisper.

Lewis laughed again, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he positioned himself behind her. “Oh, you will.”

And then, without another word, he thrust into her, filling her completely at once.

Y/n let out a loud cry, her body arching even more at the sudden invasion.

He was deep, too deep, and for a moment, all she could do was gasp for air, her hands gripping the sheets as he stayed still.

“Fuck,” Lewis groaned, his voice strained as he gripped her hips harder, his fingers digging into her skin. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Y/n couldn’t form words, couldn’t even think straight as her body struggled to accommodate the overwhelming fullness.

But then he started to move, pulling out just enough before slamming back into her, setting a brutal pace that left her not only wordless but breathless.

With each thrust the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Y/n’s moans mixed with his grunts, her body rocking forward with the movements of his hips.

Lewis was relentless, pounding into her with a force that left her dizzy. His hands moved up her back, fingers tangling in her shirt as he pulled her head back, forcing her to arch even more.

Her face was buried in the pillow, muffling her moans, but Lewis wasn’t having that.

“Let me hear you,” he growled, his hand tightening as he yanked her head back, exposing her neck. “I want to hear every fucking sound you make.”

Y/n cried out, her voice raw as he hit a spot deep inside her that made her entire body shake.

Her walls clenched around him involuntarily, the intensity of it all too much, but she couldn’t stop it. Every thrust got her closer to the edge, and she could feel it building again.

When she was almost seeing starts and her walls kept on clenching around him, he pulled out of her, leaving her trembling and empty.

Y/n let out a whimper of protest, her body aching for him to fill her again.

“Turn over,” he ordered, his voice firm, commanding.

Y/n, barely able to move, managed to roll onto her side, her body weak and shaking from the force of it all. She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Lewis didn’t waste time. He grabbed her leg, pulling it up over his arms as he positioned himself between her half-closed thighs.

His eyes locked onto hers, the intensity in his gaze making her stomach flip.

“You still think I don’t give a damn?” he asked, his voice rough, almost taunting as he pushed into her again, filling her completely.

Y/n’s head fell back against the pillow, a loud moan escaping her lips as he thrust into her at a new angle, hitting that spot deep inside her that made her breath hitch.

His hands held on to her ankle, and the way he was angled was driving her crazy, his hips slamming into her ass with an unrelenting force.

“Lewis—fuck—” she gasped, her hands clawing at his arms as he leaned over her, pressing his body into her side as he fucked her hard, each thrust pushing her closer to the brink.

Her moans were uncontrollable now, her body completely at his mercy as he pounded into her. She could feel the tension building again, the heat coiling in her stomach, but this time, she knew he wasn’t going to stop.

He wasn’t going to deny her. Not again.

Lewis’s eyes were locked on her face, watching every twitch, every moan, every breathless gasp as he took her apart. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice strained with exertion.

She couldn’t respond, her mind too fogged with pleasure, her body too overwhelmed. But her hands reached up, grabbing onto his neck, pulling him down to kiss her.

It was messy, but it didn’t matter. They were both too far gone to care.

Lewis groaned into her mouth, his thrusts becoming more erratic, harder, as if he was losing control. Y/n’s nails dug into his skin, her body trembling as she felt herself teetering on the edge.

“I’m so close,” she gasped against his lips, her voice barely coherent.

“I know, love” Lewis growled, his breath hot against her mouth. “Come for me. I want to feel you.”

With one final thrust, she spiraled, her body convulsing under him as her orgasm ripped through her, more intense than the ones before.

Y/n’s body arched off the bed towards his chest, her hands gripping his shoulders as she cried out, her walls clenching around him.

Lewis couldn’t keep himself for far too long. The way she tightened around him pushed him over the brink, and with a deep, guttural moan, he only had time to pull out, spilling himself over her ass, his body shaking with the force of his release.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies spent and trembling, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Lewis then collapsed beside her, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Y/n lay there, completely wrecked, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her only movement was her hand stroking his arm, her mind too fogged with him to think straight.

But then Lewis’s hand was on her cheek, gently caressing her skin, and she turned her head to look at him.

His expression had softened, the intensity of before replaced with something tender, affectionate.

“Relax,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over her lips. “I’ll take care of you.”

Y/n’s heart swelled at the softness in his voice, and she nodded, too tired to speak.

She watched as Lewis got up, disappearing into the bathroom before returning with a towel. He cleaned her up carefully, his touch gentle, his gaze focused solely on her.

When he was done, he tossed the towel aside and climbed back into bed, pulling her into his arms.

Lewis gently stroked her cheek as she lay against him, her breathing still uneven, though now from exhaustion rather than anything else.

His thumb brushed over her lips, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead softly, letting out a deep, contented sigh.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice tender.

Y/n nodded, her body limp as she sank into the comfort of his chest. "Just tired."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "You sure you don’t want to sleep?" His hand ran soothingly over her arm, drawing lazy patterns on her skin as he held her closer.

She shook her head lightly. "Not yet. My mind’s still buzzing." Her voice was soft, a little hoarse, but she didn’t regret a second of it.

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and comforting. "Well, let’s calm that buzzing down." He reached for the phone by the bedside, quickly ordering pasta for the both of them. "Have you eaten at all?"

Y/n smiled faintly; her eyes half-closed. "So now you care?"

Lewis arched an eyebrow, lifting her chin so her gaze met his. "Always did, babe." His thumb traced the curve of her jaw, his gaze soft but serious. "I know it’s been tough, and I know I’ve been a prick sometimes… but I do care. About you. About your career. All Mercedes."

Her lips curved into a small smile, her exhaustion making her emotions raw. "I know. I’m sorry for what I said"

"I meant what I said earlier—you’ve gotta find to take care of yourself. It’s not all on your shoulders." he pushed, brushing his thumb across her face.

She closed her eyes, her body relaxing into his touch. "Yeah, maybe you’re right."

He laughed softly. "I’m always right." He kissed the top of her head. "And if it takes rough sex to get you out of your own head… well, I’m happy to help."

Y/n snorted; her face buried in his chest. "Really, Lewis? Really?"

“I care about you, okay?” he said quietly, almost hesitant, as if the vulnerability was something new.

Y/n nodded against his chest, her eyes already closing as the exhaustion overtook her. She was too tired to speak, but she knew. Deep down, she had always known.

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[naturesapphic]

Yn throwing a BIG tantrum she was having a bad bad week and came home and saw that billie had some friends over and she was laughing with them and all when previously she told you that she had to concentrated on her album so y’all couldn’t have a little moment together like a movie night. After her friends left the tantrum begged and I mean like slamming doors screaming cursing crying pushing her away trowing things and all

Ignored

billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: screaming, cussing, shoving, breakdown

Relief filled your body as you got out of your car and walked up to the shared house with your girlfriend. You couldn’t wait to go inside and relax after having one of the worst weeks. You unlocked the front door and your ears heard laughter fill the whole house. Confused, you walked further in the house, stepping into the living room to see billie and her friends cutting up. You felt your heart drop down to your stomach and watched as Billie was cuddled up between two friends.

You remembered Billie telling you that she had to focus on her music. That was her excuse for not having a movie night with you this week and now here she is, out of her studio and cutting up with her friends. You saw Billies eyes look over at you and a frown takes over her face. She knew she had fucked up. Immediately Billie told that it was time for them to go so she could spend some time with you and they all awed at how cute that was. You didn’t even pay attention, you were so deep in your head. When her friends left that’s when all hell broke lose.

“Y/n listen-“ Billie began but you didn’t want to hear any of her bullshit. “N-no! Fuck you billie! You kept saying “oh I need to work on my music” blah blah blah. Yet, here you were, hanging out with your fucking friends when I’ve been trying to hang out with you one on one for weeks!” You shout as you start to walk away from her. “Hey! Don’t walk away we need to talk about this. Please let me explain.” Billie begged as she gently grabbed your arm to keep you from walking away. “What’s there to explain! You don’t want to hang out with your girlfriend!” You spat out as you yanked your arm away from her and stomped up the stairs as tears burned your eyes.

Billie sighed and followed closed behind you. “I do want to hang out with you! They texted me last minute to see if I was free and I was!” Billie explained and you scoffed. You went to go to y’all’s room when Billie ran in front of you to block you from going in. Filled with rage and annoyance, you pushed her out of the way which caused her to stumble away but she stood back up easily and looked at you with a glare. You pushed past her and slammed the door shut and Billie immediately started banging on it. “Y/n…open this fucking door!” She yelled out and you didn’t say anything so she kept banging. “Fuck you billie!” You cry out and she smirked on the other side of the door. “Okay. Then unlock the door so I will.” She said, trying to lighten the situation.

“Please babygirl unlock the door. I’m really sorry.” She begged and you sighed. You went up to the door and unlocked it then went to sit on the edge of the bed. Billie opened the door slowly and peeked her head and spotted you. She went over to you and sat down beside you but left a little gap in the middle to give you some space. “Do you still love me?” You ask with a shaky breath as you look up at her. Your eyes showing vulnerability and fearfulness. “Babygirl…of course I do. You’re the love of my life.” She breathed out as she scooted closer to you and took your face in her soft hands. “I am so sorry that im making you this upset. I absolutely hate it. When they texted, I was getting done with work early so I could spend time with you when you got home but I didn’t know when you would be home so I said yes to their message. Plus I haven’t seen them in a while and I missed them.” Billie explained and you nodded your head.

“I-im sorry…” you whimpered out as fresh new tears blurred your vision. “Princess…don’t be sorry…I know you were extremely upset and acted out on it. We will work through it together but im not mad at you so don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” She said softly, reassuring you. “Now…why don’t we go downstairs and have our movie night hm?” Billie said smiling at you. She stands up and extends her hand out for you to take and you grab it, her helping you up. The two of you went downstairs and started the movie night, finally spending some quality time together.

A/n: thank you anon for this request! I hope you and everyone else enjoyed it. GUYS OMG IM ALMOST AT 3,000 FOLLOWERS OMG! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all :)

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ taking care of a tired lover 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ “i think it’s about time you called it a night, baby.”

²⁾ “you’re going to bed, even if i have to carry you there myself.”

“no, no, forget about it. i’ll take care of it all, you just focus on getting some rest.”

³⁾ coaxing them, half-asleep, through the house to the bedroom with a tender touch and even softer tone

⁴⁾ “if there’s one thing i can promise you, it’s that there’s always going to be work to be done. you might as well face it rested, right?”

⁵⁾ slowly helping them undress and massaging their sore body as you go

⁶⁾ “yawning whilst trying to convince me you’re not tired tends to have the opposite effect.”

⁷⁾ “i know you’re comfortable, but you’re gonna be furious at the both of us tomorrow if i let you spend the night on the couch.”

⁸⁾ letting them collapse against your chest the second they make it through the door after a hellish day

⁹⁾ “it’s just me now. you don’t have to pretend anymore- just let me take care of you.”

¹⁰⁾ not being able to drag them away from their work, but them conceding to let you stand behind them and rub their stiff shoulders and back as they forge on

¹¹⁾ “try and eat a little for me. you’ll be better off for it.”

¹²⁾ “this is the end of your all-nighters, you hear me?”

¹³⁾ “you worked yourself to the bone trying to make sure everyone else was looked after- now let me do the same for you.”

¹⁴⁾ running them a hot bath and letting them decompress whilst you help them bathe

¹⁵⁾ walking in on them asleep at their desk, and arranging a cushion under their head and draping something over them to keep them warm

¹⁶⁾ “after this, you deserve a break. just the two of us out somewhere quiet for a week or two- what do you say, hm?”

¹⁷⁾ managing to negotiate them into a nap on the promise of waking them back up shortly to resume their tasks, and absolutely not following through on it

¹⁸⁾ bringing them food and a painkiller at their desk instead of fruitlessly trying to pull them away

¹⁹⁾ “you always take such good care of me. i’m never not going to jump at the opportunity to return the favour.”

²⁰⁾ kissing away tears of tiredness and frustration

[cordeliawhohung]

I’m taking advantage of this open request inbox and am requesting a Simon and chip carving pumpkins because because because because because idk

pumpkin carving | an In Limbo extra | simon riley x reader | fluff

happy fall <3

A silvery sheen glints off of blades in the amber light of the kitchen. 

Sterile. Laid flat. Spoons made for gouging litter the countertop next to toothpicks and bowls. These are tools for gutting. Tools made for hurting. Ripping out entrails and the essence of life in ivory seeds and webby viscera. 

Victims sit in perfect silence atop the counter. Cold. Unknowing. Unable to speak.

“It’s pumpkin carving, sweetheart. Not surgery.” 

“You take it… very seriously,” you humor. 

Simon’s smirk gleams brighter than the knives sitting near his fingertips. There are very few times when you’ve caught that ardent excitement brewing in the depths of his eyes, but you never expected him to be so ecstatic about carving pumpkins. 

“Course. This is a serious occasion,” he deadpans. 

“Uh huh.” 

Knuckles tap against the two pumpkins in front of you. He must have found the two largest ones at the market. Fresh and unblemished, they’re so big you swear they’ll burst. Their circumference trumps that of Simon’s own noggin. If you hollowed one out and put it on his head, he’d look like some blinded astronaut. 

“Want me to cut your top off for you?” he asks. The blades adorning the counter are long, yet Simon’s hands dwarf them as he picks one up. 

“My top, or the pumpkin’s?” you quip. 

The next time he smirks, his teeth peek between his lips. “Whichever one you want, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, and it isn’t long before blades are sunk into taut orange flesh. Stems cut away, the fibrous strands are left exposed beneath the unforgiving lights above you. Tilting the pumpkin, you dip your hand into its guts. Nothing but sinew and cold goop greet you, and you try to hide your discomfort in the way it burrows beneath your nails. You toss the entrails into a bucket where they fester and sit. 

“How do you do this for fun?” you question, looking at the mess in the palm of your hands. “The texture makes my teeth hurt.” 

“Had worse on my hands before,” Simon admits. He’s using the side of a spoon to scrape and thin out the walls of his pumpkin, nearly twenty steps ahead of you.

“Dare I ask?” you mumble as you shake your hands. 

“Used to be a butcher,” he shrugs. 

“I feel like a butcher now.” 

“Least you don’t smell like one.” 

He helps thin the walls of your pumpkin when it’s sufficiently gutted. Black sleeves ripple and curl around his biceps, having rolled them up to keep them clean. Forearms exposed, you watch the muscle dance. Tendons pull taut as his arm moves repetitively back and forth. He’s so involved with the work he doesn’t catch sight of you staring. Gawking. You hate the feeling of pumpkin guts caught in your fingers, but you think you could watch him carve them all day. 

Next, he has you plan out your design by poking guide holes with toothpicks. Simon has a system. Expertly planned and thought out. He tells you how much Joseph loves carving pumpkins, and how Beth was the one who came up with the idea with the toothpicks. It’s hard to drive back to Manchester just for pumpkin carving, but now he has you now to partake in the Halloween festivities with him. 

“Careful now,” Simon warns. “Just sharpened them earlier, yeah?” 

“I know how to use knives, Si.” 

Hands up in playful defense, he lets you get to work. 

Simon is an artist, you learn. Really, it shouldn't surprise you that he takes an interest in it, saying how nearly half of his body is covered in sharp designs and ink. It’s nice watching him work. Brows furrow with focus while deft fingers transform a simple gourd into a sculpture — he looks like a work of art himself. 

Chiseled out of marble with pick and hammer, the hands that made him were clumsy, yet you’d kiss them all the same. Just the same as you’d kiss the crooked bridge of his nose and the deep settled scars and keloids that jut from his body. The soft curve of his abdomen. The rigid lines along his back. 

“Ow, fuck…”

“What’d I tell ya?” 

You’d even kiss that stupid smirk on his face. 

It vanishes the moment he sees the blood drip from the side of your finger, choosing instead to coo and corral you out of the kitchen. Arguing with him, you tell him it’s not as bad as it looks as he sits you on the sofa in the living room, but he doesn’t listen. It isn’t long before he’s knelt in front of you, wiping the blood clean and patching up your trivial wound. 

“Gotta prevent cross contamination,” he says just as the blood stops flowing. 

“Cross contamination?” you repeat. 

“Yeah, between you and the patient.” It takes everything within you not to scoff at him as he secures a band-aid around your finger. “Y’know, I always thought surgeons had steadier hands than that.” 

“Insulting my work?” 

“You might never practice medicine again.” 

This time you truly flout him with a huff. He’s finished patching you up but he stays knelt before you, pinching your finger between his own as if he can’t quite cauterize the wound. 

“Anythin’ else I can do for you, doctor?” he hums. 

Sighing, you look over your shoulder toward the kitchen. Your oversized squash sits midway through surgery with a half formed eye. “Might as well finish up my work for me. You know, since my license is about to be revoked.” 

Simon gets you to look back at him as he gently tugs on your finger. You watch as he raises your hand to his lips where they gently curl around your digit in a kiss. His eyes don’t stray from you for a moment. Unrelenting. Adoring. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

You’re left sitting there with a sliced finger that burns with the weight of a kiss as he goes to finish carving your pumpkin. It’s too late to worry about contamination; you’re already afflicted with warmth. Some raging sickness that leaves your skin on fire. Still, you thumb over the fox themed band-aid with a smile as your lips begin to tingle in jealousy. 

[a-lexia11]

Lost in translation

Emily fox x reader

Word count: 3,1k

Warning: a little suggestive at one point (minors DNI)

Summary: A collection of playful arguments between you and Emily about which words are more appropriate, showcasing the differences between British and American English.

Notes: At the moment, I’m really really into Emily Fox... she’s just sooooo😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 This is also inspired by those videos of Leah and Emily discussing what different things are called in British english and American english.

You never really considered how different two people could be until you started dating Emily.

The two of you, both football players for Arsenal, have been together for six months now.

Six whole months of discovering that the small nuances between British and American slang could provide endless entertainment—and confusion.

You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world; every laugh and every misunderstanding served as a reminder of how close you’d grown despite those differences.

You’d found yourselves lost in translation more than once, but each moment only deepened your connection.

——

It’s the afternoon, and you and Emily are snuggled up on the sofa in your North London flat.

You were immersed in a Netflix binge, the soft glow of the television illuminating the room as the plot thickened on screen

Just as you were getting lost in the storyline, Emily’s voice broke your focus as she got up. “Can you pause it for a moment? I’m going to grab some chips.”

You glanced up, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Chips? You’re having chips at this hour?”

Emily shot you a playful look, hands planted firmly on her hips. “Yeah, why not? I’m starving! Plus, I don’t see any rules against it!”

“Isn’t that a bit early for chips?” you asked, puzzled by her choice to have chips at four in the afternoon.

Emily narrowed her eyes dramatically, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated confusion. “Wait, do you really think I mean,like eating fries? Like French fries?”

“Well, of course! You said chips. I just assumed you meant proper chips!” you replied, chuckling at her reaction.

“No, love, I meant…” She tapped her chin theatrically, pretending to ponder the complexities of British and American cuisine.

“What do you Brits call them? Oh! Right! I’m going to get some crisps,” she said, playfully mimicking your accent with a flourish. “Crisps, like a proper Brit!”

You erupted in laughter, shaking your head at her terrible imitation of your accent. “You and your Americanisms! Honestly, it’s like you come from a completely different world!”

——

Later that week, you and Emily are snuggled up on the sofa in your apartment.

The warm, golden light from the setting sun spills through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room.

Your head rested comfortably on her chest as the two of you lay together, wrapped in each other’s warmth, savoring the peaceful quiet of the moment.

You're scrolling through your phone, casually browsing social media, when Emily's voice cuts through, her American accent drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, let's grab some takeout. I'm starving,” she says, gently rubbing your back up and down.

“Takeout?” you repeated, lifting an eyebrow as you looked up at her. “You mean takeaway?”

Emily blinked at you, her face scrunching up in that adorable way you had come to love whenever she was confused. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, love. It’s takeaway. ‘Takeout’ is what you Americans call it.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Whatever… anyway, how about we order some burgers and fries?”

“You mean burgers and chips,” you replied with a smirk.

“Okay, don’t start again” she said, feigning exasperation. “It’s fries, baby. I will die on this hill.”

You chuckled and leaned up to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. “While you’re dying on your hill of ‘fries’, I’ll be over here enjoying my lovely ‘chips’.”

She let out a soft laugh, planting a quick kiss on your lips. “I guess we’ll never agree on that, huh?”

“Not in a million years,” you replied, grinning widely.

——

A few days later, you and Emily found yourselves at a café near the Emirates after a morning training session.

Sitting outside, you soaked in the rare London sunshine while Emily sipped on an iced coffee.

You chose a traditional English breakfast tea, the warmth of the beverage contrasting with the cool breeze.

As Emily scanned the menu, her eyes lit up with excitement. “I think I’ll get a biscuit,” she declared, her enthusiasm palpable.

You nearly choked on your tea, the words catching you off guard. “A what?” you asked, bewildered.

“A biscuit!” she repeated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Biscuit?!” you echoed incredulously. “Love, they don’t serve biscuits here.”

Her frown deepened, clearly confused by your reaction. “What do you mean? It’s right there. Biscuits.”

You followed her finger to the menu, squinting to read the fine print. “Oh, those are scones. Not biscuits.”

Emily stared at you, completely flabbergasted. “Wait, so what are biscuits to you?”

“Biscuits are, well, they’re like…” You struggled to explain, finally settling on, “They’re sweet, crumbly things you dip in your tea. Like digestives.”

She blinked, processing your explanation. “Digestives? That’s the most unappetizing name for a snack ever.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” you replied defensively, a hint of laughter in your voice. “And a scone is more like a… pastry. You Americans don’t have those?”

“I guess we do,” Emily said, still sounding unconvinced. “Alright, ‘scones’ it is then.”

——

Another weekend rolled around, and you and Emily decided to spend the day exploring Camden Market.

The vibrant atmosphere buzzed with excitement, and as you strolled through the bustling stalls, Emily’s arm draped comfortably around your shoulders, you felt a warm sense of belonging.

“I could really go for some candy right now,” Emily said, her eyes sparkling as she spotted a nearby sweets stand.

“You mean sweets,” you corrected her playfully, earning a playful roll of her eyes.

“I mean candy,” she insisted, her American stubbornness shining through.

You chuckled, tilting your head toward a stand selling fluffy pink cotton candy. “Candy floss, at least?”

Emily laughed, shaking her head. “You mean cotton candy. You guys make everything sound so proper.”

With a teasing grin, you replied, “Doesn’t ‘floss’ sound way more fun?”

She smirked, a glimmer of affection in her eyes. “Only you could make floss sound fun.”

You both laughed as you made your way to the stand, picking out a bag of the sugary treat. With the fluffy candy in hand, you strolled through the lively market, the air filled with the scent of delicious food and sweet treats.

As you took turns stealing bites, the sugary taste melted on your tongues, sending delightful bursts of sweetness through your senses. Your fingers brushed against each other with each exchange, igniting a flutter of warmth between you.

——

One sunny afternoon, after an intense training session, you and Emily found yourselves in the bustling parking lot, surrounded by teammates packing up and heading home.

“Emily, can you open the boot, please?” you asked, casually tossing your bag over your shoulder.

“The boot?” she replied, her brow furrowing in confusion as she looked at you.

“Yes, Em, the boot,” you insisted, giving her a playful nudge.

“Baby, what the hell is the boot?” she asked, a puzzled expression crossing her face. You searched her eyes, half expecting a grin, but she looked completely serious.

“You know, the space at the back of the car where you put stuff,” you explained, gesturing toward the rear of the vehicle.

Emily huffed, crossing her arms. “That’s a trunk!” she declared, marching over to the back of the car.

You joined her, your laughter bubbling to the surface. “That’s a trunk,” you said, playfully imitating her American accent,putting your bag in the boot.

She shot you a mock glare, clearly unfazed by your teasing.

“A boot is a shoe, not a part of a car,” she countered, shutting the boot with a flourish and turning to face you.

“Whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes dramatically.

Emily smirked and wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer as you wrapped yours around her neck.

She flashed a mischievous smirk, her eyes sparkling with playful intent. “And speaking of trunks, you definitely have some junk in the trunk!” she teased, her hand playfully finding its way to your butt, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Emily!” you exclaimed, quickly taking her hand away from your ass, a mix of surprise and laughter in your voice. “Not here!” You raised an eyebrow at her, genuinely confused. “What does that even mean?”

Emily just grinned, leaning in close to plant a soft kiss on your lips, the warmth of the moment washing over you. You couldn’t help but smile and kissed her back, the playful banter adding a sweet layer to your day.

——

One night,you stood in the kitchen, chopping onions for dinner, the sharp aroma wafting through the air. As you focused on your task, you sensed Emily’s presence behind you; she wrapped her arms around your waist, her touch warm and comforting. “What are you making, baby?” she asked, her voice soft and playful.

“Just a little something for us,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder with a smile. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

Her grin widened, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know, you really don’t have to go through all that trouble just to impress me. I’m already impressed just by being here with you.”

Before you could respond, Emily leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck. The warmth of her lips sent shivers down your spine, and for a moment, you lost your concentration. In that instant, the knife slipped, and a sharp sting cut through your skin.

“Ow!” you yelped, quickly pulling your hand back and cradling it instinctively. The onion rolled off the cutting board, and a small but deep cut opened on your finger, causing a few drops of blood to trickle down.

Emily’s playful demeanor vanished as she turned you around, concern flooding her features. “Oh my god! What happened?” She said in a rush, her hands hovering anxiously over your injury. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No, no, it’s fine!” you assured her, waving your other hand dismissively, though the blood continued to ooze from the cut. “I just need a plaster.”

“A what?” Emily asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“A plaster!” you repeated, trying to keep your composure as the sting from your finger intensified.

Her face fell as she glanced at your hand, now smeared with blood. “Oh! You mean a band-aid?”

“Exactly! A plaster is a band-aid!” you argued, slightly exasperated but amused by her reaction.

Emily shook her head, her initial panic giving way to a slight smile as she tried to process it all. “No, a band-aid is a brand! It’s like saying ‘Kleenex’ for tissues!”

You raised an eyebrow, unable to help the smile creeping onto your face despite the situation. “So you’re telling me I have to say ‘band-aid’ when I clearly meant ‘plaster’?”

She rolled her eyes but laughed softly. “Whatever you say, British girl, but I’m getting you a band-aid.”

As she dashed off to the bathroom, you chuckled softly, shaking your head at how even in a moment of crisis, the two of you could turn a simple mishap into a playful debate, your lighthearted banter lingering in the air.

——

You and Emily stood in the parking lot of the grocery store, the sun shining down on the bustling scene around you. You leaned against the car, a playful smirk on your lips as you watched her scroll through her phone, likely checking the grocery list for the hundredth time.

“Alright, let’s grab the trolley!” you called out, feeling a rush of excitement.

Emily paused, her head snapping up as she gave you a confused look. “The what?”

“The trolley! You know, the thing we push around the store to put our groceries in,” you explained, waving your hands animatedly.

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “You mean the cart?”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across your face. “No, it’s a trolley! Are you really going to argue with me about this too?”

“Absolutely,” she replied with a smirk, stepping closer. “It’s just a cart, Y/N.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, trolley sounds much more sophisticated. Imagine if we were royalty! You wouldn’t see the Queen pushing a cart around, would you?”

Emily giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I can just picture it now: Her Majesty at Tesco, pushing her trolley and loading up on biscuits. It’s all very regal.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a mock-serious whisper. “And don’t forget the scones! But wait, are they biscuits or scones?”

“Honestly, I think they’re both!” she retorted with a grin, nudging your shoulder playfully. “But let’s not confuse the grocery store staff with royal titles, okay?”

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Come on! It adds a bit of charm to the mundane shopping experience. Just think about how much more fun it would be.”

“Fun? In a grocery store?” she laughed. “You’re delusional. But fine, I’ll call it a trolley while we’re here.”

You pointed a finger at her, feigning seriousness. “No cart talk in front of the Queen, got it!”

“Exactly!” she replied, biting her lip to suppress a laugh. “But if anyone asks, I’m still going to call it a cart. No one can take that away from me!”

“Fair enough,” you conceded, chuckling as you reached for the car door. “But just so you know, every time you say ‘cart,’ a British person cringes.”

“Good thing I’m an American then!” Emily shot back, sticking her tongue out at you.

——

You and Emily sat on the living room floor, with you nestled between her legs, surrounded by an array of toys and vibrant blocks.

The joyful sounds of laughter filled the air as you both watched your niece, Nina, an adorable baby with sparkling wide eyes and a toothless smile, crawl around and explore her little kingdom.

The two of you were enjoying your impromptu babysitting session, exchanging glances filled with love and laughter as the baby babbled happily.

After a while, Nina’s expression shifted, and you could smell that familiar odor wafting through the air. You chuckled softly, glancing at Emily. “Looks like someone needs a nappy change.”

Emily blinked, her brows furrowing in confusion. “A what change?”

“A nappy!” you repeated, smiling at your niece as she reached for a colorful toy. “You know, a diaper!”

“Why on earth would you call it a nappy?” Emily asked, incredulous. “That sounds ridiculous!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. “Ridiculous? It’s just what we call it over here! Nappy sounds way cuter than diaper, don’t you think?”

Emily shook her head, a playful smirk on her lips. “No way! Diaper is straightforward and to the point. Nappy just sounds… fluffy and weird.”

You stood up, scooping your niece into your arms. “Fluffy and weird?No way besides I like ‘nappy’ because it feels more affectionate.”

Emily rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I guess if you like it that much, I can live with it. But it still sounds like you’re trying to dress her for a tea party or something.”

“Hey, maybe I will! Nappies and tea parties go hand in hand,” you teased, gently bouncing your niece in your arms.

You set your niece down and knelt beside her, picking up a fresh nappy. “Alright, let’s get this little one sorted out.” You gestured to Emily. “You ready to help me with the nappy change?”

Emily approached, looking both excited and a little apprehensive. “I’m ready, but I’m still going to call it a diaper. You’re going to have to deal with that.”

With a dramatic sigh, you shook your head. “Fine, but just know that you’ll never win this argument. Nappy is superior.”

As you both got to work, the baby giggled, seemingly enjoying the chaos of the moment.

You looked down at your niece, who clapped her hands, and then back at Emily. “Maybe one day you’ll come around to ‘nappy.’”

Emily shrugged, playfully rolling her eyes again. “I doubt it, but I’m willing to humor you… for now.”

——

You and Emily lay on the bed, the dim lighting casting a warm, intimate glow around you, heightening the sense of anticipation in the air.

You straddled her, your bare torso exposed, and your lips met in a fervent kiss, tongues intertwining passionately. “I’ve wanted this all day,” you whispered breathlessly between kisses.

Her hands roamed over your chest, fondling and caressing, eliciting soft moans from you. "You feel amazing," Emily murmured, her voice husky with desire.

As the intensity grew, her hands began to trace a path down your back, sending shivers through your body. "I want to feel every inch of you," she added, her fingers exploring every curve and contour.

Pulling back slightly, you smirked down at Emily, feeling your heart race with anticipation. “Hold on, I’m going to take off my trousers,” you said, your voice sultry and playful as you leaned in closer.

Emily’s hands traveled down to your ass, squeezing it possessively as a mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. “You mean your pants,” she teased, her tone light yet charged with heat.

You raised an eyebrow, a laugh escaping your lips. “Really? You’re going to debate terminology while we’re about to have sex?” you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief as you slipped off your trousers.

Emily laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she reached out for you again, pulling you back on top of her.

With a teasing grin, you captured her lips with yours, feeling the warmth of her body against yours.

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the playful banter heightening the desire simmering beneath the surface.

——

While you generally accommodated the different words Emily used, like saying “apartment” instead of “flat” or “zucchini” instead of “courgette,” there was ONE term you simply couldn’t let slide.

“Baby, what do you want to watch ?” Emily asked, casually flipping through the channels with a relaxed ease, clearly in no hurry to settle down.

“I don’t know, love; you choose,” you replied from the kitchen, where you were busy finishing up making popcorn. You tossed a pop corn into your mouth just as you heard her next words.

“How about soccer?” she suggested. In that instant, you nearly choked on the popcorn, coughing violently as you struggled to catch your breath.

Emily jumped up from the couch, rushing to your side and giving you a few supportive taps on the back. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

“Here, baby, drink some water!” she exclaimed, quickly grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and handing it to you. You took a long gulp, desperately trying to calm your coughing fit.

As you finally managed to breathe normally again, you exclaimed, “You tried to kill me!”

“What!? I didn’t do anything; I was just sitting on the couch!” she protested, her expression a mix of concern and confusion.

“You did! You called football ‘soccer!’ Idiot!” you shot back, your eyes wide in disbelief. The look on her face only intensified your frustration.

“You almost choked to death because of that!” she cried, hands thrown up in exasperation, though you could see a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Yes! It’s called football! Not soccer!” You crossed your arms defiantly, your heart racing from both the choking and the absurdity of the argument.

Emily rolled her eyes, leaning back against the counter with a smirk. “Oh, come on! It’s just a word. Why are you so worked up?”

“Because it’s a matter of principle!” you insisted, tapping your foot for emphasis. “If you can’t respect the game, what’s next? Will you start calling basketball ‘handball?’ ”

“Okay, that’s just ridiculous,” she shot back, unable to contain her laughter. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? I think not!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exaggerated frustration. “This is serious business! I might have to reconsider this whole relationship if you can’t call it football!”

Emily raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but also a little taken aback. “Are you really going to break up with me over a word?”

“Of course!” you said, pretending to think it over seriously. “If you keep calling it ‘soccer,’ how am I supposed to take you seriously? This is not just about the word; it’s about respect!”

She leaned in, her expression teasing yet sincere. “You know I respect it right? Even if I call it ‘soccer’?”

You let out a dramatic sigh, crossing your arms and turning your gaze away from her. “Calling football ‘soccer’ is just disrespectful! Honestly, maybe I need to find someone who actually knows how to call it football”

“Oh, come on!” Emily said, feigning exasperation.

You stood your ground, trying to hold back the grin that was slowly spreading across your face. “Maybe I’ll consider staying with you... if you can say it properly,” you teased, your voice light but with a hint of challenge.

“Fine! I’ll call it football,” she finally relented, rolling her eyes but smiling all the while. “Happy now?”

You turned to her with a mock-serious expression. “Very! But if I hear one more ‘soccer’ slip out of your mouth…”

She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around your waist, and looked into your eyes. “Then I’ll make the dishes, laundry, and all other chores for a whole month, how about that?”

“Hmm,” you mused, your heart racing at her playful tone. “You’d better remember that!”

With a playful smile, she pressed her lips to yours, the tension dissolving into laughter as you both sank back onto the couch, feeling grateful for every little difference that made your relationship so uniquely yours.

————

Bonus scene:

As Emily stood in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone while waiting for her plate to heat up in the microwave, you quietly approached her from behind and gave her a firm but gentle slap on the back of her head.

“Ow!” she yelped, rubbing the spot as she turned to face you, clearly confused. “What was that for?” she asked, her brows furrowed.

You gave her a pointed look. “Saying that I had a fat ass. Junk in the trunk?Really?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief before turning to walk away.

FIN

[l4ndonorizz]

like a prayer / carlos sainz x reader

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

song:madonna - like a prayer

summary: overwhelmed by panic in the paddock, you seek refuge in Carlos’ driver’s room, where his calming presence helps you find peace again

wc: 900

The noise of the paddock was overwhelming. The crowd, the cameras, the endless stream of voices—normally, you could handle it. But today, it felt like everything was closing in. Your chest tightened and your breathing grew shallow as panic crept in. You needed to escape, to find somewhere—anywhere—quiet. Somewhere you could breathe.

Without thinking, your legs carried you away from the chaos, leading you to the only place you knew would feel safe: Carlos’ driver’s room. You slipped inside, shutting the door behind you and pressing your back against it, your heart racing. The room was cool, dimly lit, and blessedly silent. But your body wouldn’t relax. Your breathing was still erratic, your chest heavy with anxiety.

You stumbled to the bed, curling up under the blanket, pulling it tight as if the soft fabric could shield you from the panic. You tried to focus on your breathing, but the pounding in your chest wouldn’t let you calm down.

That’s when you heard it. The door clicked softly as it opened, and you felt Carlos’ presence fill the room before you even saw him. He must have noticed you were missing in the paddock, and his first instinct was to find you. Without a word, he crossed the room, his footsteps light and careful, as if not wanting to disturb the fragile calm you had tried to create.

“Hey, cariño,” he said softly, his voice a balm against the storm raging in your mind. “What’s going on?”

You stayed silent, your face buried in the pillow, trying to catch your breath. Carlos didn’t push. He knew. Instead, he sat down on the bed beside you, gently running his fingers through your hair. The touch was grounding, and you felt the tension in your shoulders begin to melt just a little.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice soothing and warm. “Just breathe. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your breathing remained uneven, shallow gasps that barely seemed to fill your lungs, but you focused on his voice—his calm, steady presence. Carlos shifted closer, one arm wrapping around you protectively, pulling you closer against his chest. “Shhh,” he soothed, brushing your hair back. “Take it slow, baby. No rush, no pressure.”

His words, the sound of his heart beating steadily under your ear, were slowly working their way through the haze of panic that had taken hold of you. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm of his breathing guide yours, even if it still felt like an uphill battle.

“I know it feels like the world’s closing in,” Carlos continued, his voice low and gentle. “But right now, it’s just us. Just you and me. Nothing else matters.”

His fingers drew slow, soothing patterns along your arm, and with every pass, it felt like he was pulling you further from the edge. “Focus on my voice,” he whispered, “just me. You don’t have to do anything else right now.”

You nodded slightly, still unable to speak, but Carlos didn’t mind. He kept talking, his voice soft but persistent, always there, always bringing you back. “Remember that time in the mountains? When we sat by the fire and watched the stars?” His lips curved into a gentle smile as he recalled the memory. “That night, it was so quiet, wasn’t it? Just the two of us. No noise, no distractions. I remember how peaceful you looked.”

His words painted pictures in your mind, pulling you back to a moment of stillness, of calm. The tension in your chest slowly began to unravel as you focused on the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breath.

“You’re safe here,” he murmured. “With me, always.”

You felt the weight of his words sinking into your bones, bringing with them a peace you hadn’t thought possible in the middle of a panic attack. Your breathing was finally beginning to slow, each inhale coming a little easier, each exhale no longer feeling like a battle.

Carlos noticed the change, his hand resting gently on your back. “That’s it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “You’re doing so well. Just breathe with me, okay?”

He continued speaking, his voice steady and comforting as he reminded you of all the quiet, beautiful moments you’d shared together. The day you watched the sunset on the beach, the rainy afternoons spent tangled up in each other’s arms, the mornings when the world didn’t exist beyond your shared space.

“Whenever it gets too much,” Carlos said softly, “just remember those moments. They’re always here, waiting for you. And I’m always here.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink fully into his embrace, the last remnants of panic finally loosening their grip on you. The world outside faded, leaving only his soft voice, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his arms around you.

After what felt like forever, you finally lifted your head, your eyes still glassy with the remnants of tears. Carlos met your gaze, his eyes full of concern but also so much love.

For a moment, the words stuck in your throat, but when you finally found your voice, it was quiet, raw. “Your voice…” you whispered, “it’s like a prayer. Every time I hear it… it brings me back.”

Carlos’ expression softened as he cupped your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll keep talking then,” he whispered against your skin, “for as long as you need.”

And in that moment, with Carlos holding you so close, you knew you didn’t need anything else. His voice, his presence—it was your safe space. It always had been.

[lucy90712]

Ruben Dias fluff!! Any thing you want, I trust you

Having kids is the most stressful and rewarding thing I've ever done but I wouldn't have it any other way. The biggest downside is that Ruben doesn't get to be around as much as he's like to as he's always got training or matches but when he's around he always spends every second helping me or playing with our oldest son Milo even if he's tired he treasures every second he gets to spend at home with us. 

Since I gave birth to our daughter Ruben has barely been home he got a couple of days off training and then it's been all go since. There has been matches every weekend and then champions league during the week so he's hardly been home which makes life difficult. Caring for a newborn and entertaining a two year old on little to no sleep is exhausting but Ruben helps where he can and he even gets his brother to come over when he's not around which is a great help. 

This weekend Ruben finally has a few days off after such a packed schedule Pep gave all the players a couple days off training to rest and recuperate ready for the next run of games. Rest isn't a thing in our household right now but I don't think Ruben minds he just wants to be home and actually spend time with the kids. I know he feels awful that he hasn't got to bond with our daughter Alice as much as he'd want to as he's not here during the day when she's awake and looking around but I always send him pictures and videos so he feels like he's involved too. 

Just like every morning I expected to be woken up at the crack of dawn by a toddler screaming in the baby monitor and a newborn crying right next to my head. When I woke up and saw that it was nearly 9am I freaked out and then when I saw that the baby wasn't in her bassinet I nearly had a panic attack. That's when my sensible brain took over my mum brain and I realised that Ruben also wasn't in bed next to be so he must have Alice and that made me feel so much better. After I calmed down I got out of bed and headed downstairs where I could already hear the chaos which is weirdly nice to hear. When I finally made it downstairs I saw Ruben in the kitchen holding Alice while trying to make pancakes and with Milo at his feet. I took Alice from him quickly so he could focus on breakfast but before I knew it I was also holding Milo as he's definitely a mama's boy and he doesn't like to leave my side when I'm around. 

"Thank you for letting me sleep in you didn't have to do that I know you're tired too" I said 

"You don't have to thank me I know you don't get much sleep and you need it to deal with those two I get to sleep when I’m away for matches so it's only fair that you get to have a lay in" he said 

"Well I still appreciate it I feel like a new woman now" I laughed 

"Good and I've got breakfast all ready for you" Ruben said while handing me a plate of pancakes 

We ate breakfast as a family or our version of eating as a family which is taking a bite of our own food every few minutes after having to cut bits up for Milo and sometimes having to feed it to him when he refuses to eat. Then more often than not Alice seems to sense when I'm eating and all of a sudden wants feeding so I have to eat with just one hand. Ruben had managed to get Milo to eat all of his pancakes while I still had a mostly full plate as I was feeding Alice so Ruben switched his attention to me and cut my pancakes and fed them to me like the perfect husband he is. 

To spend some quality time together Ruben suggested we go to the park and seeing as I've got him to help me I had no reason to disagree. He took care of getting Milo ready while I got Alice ready and we made it out the house as a family of four for the first time which sounds crazy as Alice is three weeks old now but Ruben's been around so little we haven't had the chance to go anywhere all together yet. Leaving the house is never easy but eventually we got out the house with me having Alice in the carrier and pushing the stroller while Milo walked as he refused to get in the stroller. 

The walk to the park isn't a long one so we got there pretty quickly and when we did Milo took off and made a beeline straight for the slide as he loves going down the slide. Ruben followed close behind while I found somewhere to sit with Alice as she was due a feed before she naps again. Watching Ruben play with Milo made me a little emotional hearing Milo laughing as Ruben chased him around the park is exactly how I pictured parenthood there is no better sound than hearing your child laughing it always fills my heart with joy. Milo can be difficult at times which I think comes down to missing his dad but I couldn't care less about that when I get to see the two of them happy and playing together. 

"Mama come play" Milo said as he ran over to me 

"I would love to play with you buddy but mama's still recovering I can push you on the swing if you'd like though" I said 

"Yeah let's go mama" he said running off again 

I gave Alice to Ruben so I could push Milo on the swing which he thoroughly enjoyed he wanted to go higher and higher until I physically couldn't push him any higher. As he was swinging Ruben started to pull faces at him from across the park which only made him laugh more. This is exactly why I think Ruben is the best dad he has always been so great since the moment Milo was born our kids just love to be around him as he always makes them happy. It wasn't long before Milo wanted to get out of the swing so I got him out and he dragged me off to the rest of the play equipment which I wasn't going to go on as I'm only just three weeks post partum but I just can't say no to him. We climbed up the climbing wall and ran around the little castle type thing it brings you to before going down the slide which was more than enough for me. 

We stayed at the park for a while longer until Milo had run out of energy and climbed into the stroller himself. Ruben took the stroller which now also had Alice in too and held my hand as we walked back home. Both kids fell asleep in the stroller so Ruben and I kept walking even when we went past the house so they'd known stay asleep and we could have some peace. We decided to walk into town and got some fresh bread and other things to make lunch when we got back home. As soon as the stroller stopped Milo woke up and wanted to get out so Ruben unbuckled him and off he went to play with his toys. 

Our afternoon started out much the same as our morning with us trying to get Milo to sit still long enough to eat lunch and then we went straight back to playing. As a family we all played with Milo's trucks and cars in the little world he's created where they all have a role. The things kids come up with is just fascinating their little minds are so creative. Before Milo was born Ruben and I spent countless evenings wondering what kind of personality he would develop but I would've never predicted that he'd be such a character he's always making me laugh with the things he comes out with but he's also such a kind little boy he always thinks about me and his sister. 

After a long day of running around and playing the kids were definitely tired and of course right after dinner Milo cuddled up to my side and fell asleep while Alice slept on my chest and Ruben had his arm around my waist as I leant against his shoulder. We took a few moments to just relax and enjoy the calm as that doesn't happen often. Eventually Ruben picked up Milo and took him to bed and I was going to put Alice in her bassinet and grab the baby monitor but he told me to stay put and he'd do it and I wasn't going to argue. He did exactly what he promised and then he came back to bring me upstairs as he'd started to run me a bath. 

I enjoyed my bath very much it was so relaxing I could feel the tension in my muscles that had built up over the last few weeks just disappear in the warm water. When I got out Ruben had pyjamas ready for me on the bed which I changed into and joined him in bed. He pulled me into his arms and started to press kisses all over my face which I've missed so much as I either sleep alone while Ruben is away or we don't get a moments peace as Alice has always been fussy at night. Tonight everything was quiet and it was amazing Ruben and I could enjoy some quality time together which we haven't had in a couple months. 

"I don't know how you deal with this all day everyday I'm exhausted" Ruben said 

"You get used to it some days they are calmer than others I think Milo was just excited you were around" I said 

"I'm sorry I haven't been here more I know the kids miss me but I can tell you miss me too even if you want say it" he said 

"It's ok I know why you aren't around it's not like you're out with friends while I'm here with two kids and yeah I miss having you here but that's selfish so I don't mention it" I admitted 

"Its not selfish you're allowed to feel like that and wish things were different I understand that things are hard and you'd like me to be around to help more that's not selfish I promise" he said 

"Everything is worth it though when we get moments like today and when Milo gets to watch you play on tv the hard moments don't matter anymore" I said

"I can't wait for Alice to come to her first game even if she doesn't remember I still remember when you first brought Milo along that was up there with one of the best days of my life" Ruben said 

"Maybe once we've both had our six week check up I'll bring her along to a game but we'll need to get her some little ear defenders" I said

"Of course but remember if you aren't ready you don't have to stick to that I'd much rather wait until you'll actually have a good time as it's supposed to be a good memory for all of us" he said 

We talked for a bit longer before Ruben turned a movie on and I knocked out within a few minutes as I didn't realise how tired I was but I fell asleep feeling completely happy and fulfilled.

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

So Oct 3rd is coming up :D spoilers for Oct 3rd below

As I was lying in bed debating whether to get up I realised I very badly want to make a piece for Oct 3rd, I’ve wanted to for ages but I’ve been hesitant and unsure

1. It means so so much to me, I want to do the scene justice

2. There’s just so much to do for that one scene you know? So many different ways to portray it I have loads and no ideas all at once

3. I don’t draw faces so portraying the anguish of the scene is a challenge, a welcome challenge! But a challenge nonetheless

So first, debate on what aspect I want to present, what is my focus. Of course I want to depict Mina’s anguish and pain, I think there’s not very many artworks that have her at the centre of the scene, it’s her and Jonathan. But I also want to do that too!! I want to show the comfort and support she has

Depending on whether I focus purely on Mina, or Jonmina together, want to be able to portray it so that in looking at the piece you feel a scream in your chest and can almost hear hers.

But can that be done in combining the ideas, having Jonathan present in a painting that has her anguish at the focus?

One of my friends suggested a wonderful idea to get around the issue of the face, *illustrate the scene through her reflection on a cracked mirror*

Which I think is stunning especially because oooh the mirror crack’d references there could be (though it’s a long time since I read that poem I’d better reread it and see if it’s relevant)

Also vampires, mirrors, the fact she’s obscured suggests her impending transformation

Also “foul bauble of man’s vanity” reference, nice visual parallel with Jonathan and losing his mirror.

The options as it stands:

1. Mina alone and reflected in the mirror, a piece highlighting her pain and fear and anguish as a victim and allegory for SA

2. Mina in the same pose, kneeling, blood spattered, shattered mirror reflection, but with Jonathan holding her tight from behind. I like this idea very much but how does it influence the message and idea? It must be said though she’s a victim she’s not *alone* in her victimhood, on two counts. Jonathan has suffered at the hands of the Count too, albeit to a different degree and it was because she didn’t want him to be hurt again that she didn’t scream out during the assault, and also even if he hadn’t been through it, he would still not let her feel alone. None of them do, none of them for even a second blame her.

3. Make a separate piece of Jonmina as well as the Mina alone piece

This option I’m considering because I can’t decide whether it would be better to have them in separate pieces or not. I like the idea of keeping Jonathan in the main one about Mina, but is that messy, does that detract from the pain and fear I want to portray? It’s supposed to be her perception

Or does it make it better and more complex, I can portray the actual scene, he is holding her she is not alone, but the mirror sort of represents her skewed perspective, so we have both pain and hope, loneliness and companionship in one

If it were two different pieces though then I feel like separate, the message for both only heightens. To combine I worry muddies them both, I don’t do justice to either the significance of his comfort or her pain. Which is why I could do a separate piece of him holding her after the others leave, lying down on the bed, alongside the first one of her reflected in the mirror.

(I feel like I would then need a third piece to make a triptych and complete a series but that’s a whole other discussion~)

Anyway, fellow Dracula/artist/both fans advise!! What to do what to do…

[mirisss]

Atz reaction to their s/o being financially broken

Ateez x gn!college/university student! reader 

Thank you for the request! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write this but I hope you enjoy this! I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to a poly relationship or not so I wrote it as if the relationships are separate, so each ATZ member has their own s/o. 

Wordcount ≈ 1.2k

Warnings: Anxiety, overworking, exhaustion, financial problems, (Not that angsty though,)

Reactions under the cut

Seonghwa, Yeosang, Mingi, Yunho, Jongho

He had noticed that you didn’t seem to have a lot of time to hang out with him recently as you constantly had to study or work. At first, he didn’t think much of it, thinking it was just because of exam season that you were so stressed. But once this kept happening for over a month, he could barely reach you, you never answered his calls, or barely any of his texts, only answering “Sorry, busy studying, talk to you later”. He understood that something must be going on, his first thought would be if he had done anything wrong so one night, he went over to your apartment, knocked on the door but no one opened it, he assumed that you were at the restaurant/bar where you work so he went over there. Once at the door to the restaurant, he saw you running around inside, immediately noticing that you looked sick and feverish, you didn’t even notice him as he stood in front of you. One of your colleagues noticed him, quickly ushering him over. 

“You should really convince them to go home, they’ve been working double shifts for two weeks, and even trying to pick up more shifts every now and then,” He was shocked to find out just how much you had been working. He walked over to you, gently putting a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, love, can we talk?” You were surprised to see him but said yes and went to the back of the building, where he technically wasn’t allowed to be as a non-employee but you were with him so it was fine. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you finally sat down for the first time in probably 12 or 15 hours. “That´s what I want to ask you, your colleague just told me you’ve been working double shifts for 2 weeks straight, you look sick, you definitely have a fever, you’ve been distant for over a month, I just want to understand what’s going on,” He saw tears beginning to form in your eyes. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” “It’s obviously something, please, (Y/n), tell me what’s going on, I’m your boyfriend, you should be able to rely on me,” You sighed and then proceeded to tell him everything. 

“My landlord raised my rent a lot about a month ago and with my old schedule, I couldn’t afford the rent or the cost of uni and everything so I had to start working more to earn enough not to be evicted, but having to work for 20 hours each day doesn’t leave a lot of time to study or sleep so I’m falling behind on classes and I don’t know what to do because no matter what I think of, there’s no solution that actually works,” He just looked at you in shock. “Why haven’t you told me about this? I could help you, I have asked before to move in together, that would help a lot with the cost of living for you,” “I can’t just rely on you for this, it’s my problem,” “Hey, we’re in this together, besides, I earn enough to support us both for a while so that you can focus on studying. I love you, (Y/n), it pains me to see you so overworked, I want to help, so please rely on me,” You couldn’t say no anymore, fatigue, fever, and finally feeling like you could have some rest catching up with you so you just nodded, whispering, ‘yes please’, before falling asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Hongjoong, Wooyoung, San

They would never let it come to the point of you being financially broken or exhausted mentally, nope, these two are just very attentive or their partner and would notice the second something seemed to be off with you. The first clue was when you canceled last minute on a date he had planned for over a week, to celebrate the anniversary of your first kiss together, he would take you to a fancy restaurant, something you usually enjoyed but this day you canceled on him the morning of the date just saying “I’m not feeling like doing something fancy”. He was shocked but nonetheless, he canceled the booking at the restaurant and asked if you should just order takeout and a movie night at his place, but you shot that down too with the excuse of exams coming up. 

The second, and final clue to something being wrong, was when he walked by the office where you work part-time, in the middle of the day, when you definitely had classes, but he found you at the office, looking more stressed than ever before. 

“Hey, love, what are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?” “Oh Joong/Woo/Sannie, um, no, I, um, don’t” It was obvious that you were lying to him, and he wondered why, as it never happened before. “I know you’re lying, (Y/n), what’s actually going on?” You just sighed, looking down at the ground. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” “I won’t judge you, honey,” “I’m going to be evicted from my apartment, I took a pay cut about a week ago and with it, I can’t afford to pay rent, and my landlord isn’t one to be understanding of me being a student so they’ll kick you out the second even a penny is missing from the rent. So I’ve been taking on more shifts here, even trying to find another part-time job at a café or something, but with that, I can’t go to classes, so I’m falling behind, and I just want to die, because I’m failing everything, even our relationship,” You were crying and almost hyperventilating at this point. He pulled you into a tight hug, to try and comfort you. His heart was hurting, how hadn’t he noticed earlier that it was this bad? “Jagi, no, you’re not failing our relationship, come live with me? You wouldn’t have to pay rent that way,” “I can’t just let you pay for everything,” 

“Then how about this, you move in with me, you keep your part-time job here but you back to your regular schedule, you can pay a fourth of the rent for my apartment, that’s about equal looking at what we each earn, and that way you still have plenty of time for classes, and for me, your boyfriend,” “How can I say no to that?” “You can’t, I’m just that irresistible,” 

[l0stfoster]

Hello!! I recently became obsessed with the Cursed Tulsa AU, I'm still new to it though. As a Two Bit fan, I was just wondering more about the details of his jumping I guess. Was Paul involved? If so, how did Darry feel when he found that out. (Sorry if I'm getting things confused or anything) so many accounts are posting stuff like that but could we please get some headcannons if you have time :) keep making more Tulsa cursed aus!

Hey! Glad you're enjoying the AU so far >:) You're not confusing anything, and I'd love to give you the little bits and details.

Details of Two's Jumping

- Two's jumping is fully based on the musical's depiction, so all of it is taken from there; I'd go far enough to say that you could look at my Justice for Tulsa animatic and re-work it with the Cursed. - To summarize, Two-Bit had just been walking home, I like to imagine he'd been called in for police questioning late in the day; which is why he'd been out and about around the time that the socs had chosen to gather to mourn Bob. He could've flown home if he'd gotten out sooner, but flying at night was something his mom had always nagged him for; so he'd tried avoiding it. The second the socs had their sights on him he did attempt to fly away, but wings big enough to hold your body weight are also long enough to grab. - The only thing that really changes in the jumping is that when they hold Two down, he's on his stomach; and, well, Bev decides a good way to get the message across that Bob's death won't be easily pushed aside is to target the exact thing that kept the greasers from being anything like the socs. She hadn't originally planned to take a lighter to his wing, but watching her cigarette singe the feathers at the middle of his back sparked a thought. Marcia and Paul were the only two who didn't take some kind of sick enjoyment in it, so at least some socs have morals? - Two didn't get to run away in comparison to the musical as well, the only reason his jumping ended was because Paul redirected their focus off of Two and onto attempting to find Johnny and Pony. If they hadn't let up, I wouldn't be surprised if Bev went for both wings- something I don't doubt would've been fatal for Two-Bit for multiple reasons. She wouldn't have been intending to kill or anything but at the same time, if a human can live without wings, couldn't a harpy? (The answer is no)

Was Paul involved?

- Paul was involved, yes, but didn't really do much physically when it came down to it. I've always imagined him to be more of the leader type; the kind of person who would sit back and allow others to get their hands dirty with rare exceptions for it; such as jumping Pony at the beginning of the musical. - He'd been the one who somewhat prompted the jumping, having pointed out that Two was walking home though not making any moves himself until after the other socs had gone ahead and gotten Two-Bit held down, and even that was just the declaration of 'war'. - I've said it before, but he hadn't been in on Bev burning and mutilating Two's wing in the way that she had. He’d only caught onto what she was doing when it was actively happening, and even he thought it was pretty fucked. His avoidance of engaging in that mutilation and his lack of active physical participation is honestly the only reason why he'd even been given a chance at redemption by the greasers, let alone a chance to develop a bond with them. It was a last-minute decision but I think it works so much better with his character. - He’s cursed too, whether he knows it or not while all this is going down, and so I think he’d have a subconscious aversion to directly harming the greasers in a way that involves their own curses— something that contrasts the other sods in how they’ve muzzled Soda before or how they end up fucking up Two’s wing. Even then, he’d had some real heavy denial about loving a fae at one point. - Keep in mind that I’m absolutely not defending his actions or behavior pre-redemption, he’s still a very flawed person who despite having societal pressures shoved down his throat still chose to behave as he did. I think it’s just important to clarify that to make it easy to understand how he’d been able to be redeemed and why he isn’t as villainized as Bev is during the jumping. Paul was remorseful, but Bev was not.

How does Darry react?

- Raw anger is almost good enough of a descriptor, but at the same time, even rage doesn't even begin to describe how Darry feels hearing about Two's jumping and Paul's involvement with it. He knew they left off on a bad note with a lot of tension, but to think that Paul would target someone that not only Darry had expressed a lot of care for but also one that Paul himself had been friendly with for a while was unbelievable. The only thing that stops Darry from acting on his anger automatically is that he can't do anything drastic with two kid brothers under his care. - Despite Two not telling anyone anything, they could easily guess who was involved when they saw select socs with Two's feathers. Paul being the leader type is a majority of the reason as to why Darry blames what happens to Two on him. - It's probably good to note that Darry had no idea Paul wasn't the one who burned him, as Two-Bit avoided sharing any details of it like the plague due to being so upset about his wing and how "ugly" it made him- but he'd assumed that the second he'd found out what happened due to their already negative relationship. It's simultaneously karma and unfortunate for Paul- cause yeah, he did prompt the jumping and was a total ass pre-rumble, but all of the anger was directed at just him instead of including any of the other socs that were there that night; save for Bev with Ace (and Two).

[blakeswritingimagines]

KINK LIST With Benjicot Blackwood

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

As soon as it's over, Benjicot is as sweet as honey to you, constantly trying to give you all the love in the world and make sure you're comfortable and relaxed. He'll give you a lot of attention and try his hardest to hold conversations with you, as hard as it becomes. He's also very protective so, if he notices a small little bruise on you, he's gonna worry about it so much and try to gently caress it to ease your pain. If you want to stay in bed a little bit, he'll stay with you too, holding you closely.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite parts of himself are his eyes, he thinks they look very kind and gentle which reflects his personality well. For his partner, he loves your hands the most. He finds them so soft and delicate, he loves holding them whenever he can and kissing them affectionately.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He doesn’t mind cumming on your stomach, chest, or breasts. It feels good to release there, knowing that you will carry his essence around all day.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

One of his dirty secrets...is that sometimes, when you're alone, he likes to play with himself while watching you. Seeing you go about your day, unaware that he's fantasizing about fucking you senseless, gets him so hard. He's jerked off to thoughts of bending you over the kitchen table, spreading those luscious thighs wide open, and pounding into you until you scream his name.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He isn't exactly inexperienced. He's been with some women before, but none of them have ever meant anything to him. With you, however, it's different. There's something about the way you move, the sound of your moans, the taste of your skin that makes every touch feel new and exciting. He knows how to please a woman, and he takes great pride in making sure you're satisfied.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His favorite position would definitely be doggy style. He loves seeing your ass high in the air, jiggling with each thrust, feeling the clench of your pussy around his cock as he pounds into you. The sight of your tits swaying back and forth, the way your hair falls over your face, it drives him wild.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

In the heat of passion, he's usually quite serious. His focus is entirely on pleasuring you, making sure you're enjoying yourself as much as he is. But afterwards, once the intensity fades away, he might crack a joke or two. He loves seeing that playful side of yours come out, the one that laughs at his silly antics and teases him right back.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps his hair neat and trimmed, usually styled in a simple yet elegant manner. It matches the rest of him – clean-cut, attractive. But underneath those clothes lies another story. He's got plenty of growing muscle hidden beneath his armor, toned from years of training and combat.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

When it comes to intimacy, he tries to make it as special as possible. Whether it's lighting candles, playing soft music, or whispering sweet words in your ear, he wants you to feel cherished and adored. He takes his time exploring your body, savoring every curve and crevice, determined to bring you to heights of pleasure you've never known before.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

When he masturbates, it's often late at night when everyone else is asleep. He'd lie in bed, hands roaming over his own body as he thinks about you - your smile, your laugh, the way you look when you're caught off guard by desire. He strokes himself slowly at first, imagining those soft lips wrapped around his throbbing member instead of just his own hand.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He has a few kinks that he's not necessarily proud of, but can't help indulging in now and then. One of them is voyeurism - getting turned on by watching you undress or touch yourself when you think no one's looking. Another is a bit of light bondage - maybe tying your wrists together with a silk scarf, pinning you down and taking control until you're begging for release. And let's not forget his love of dirty talk - describing in vivid detail exactly what he wants to do to you, how he wants to make you feel.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

His favorite place to make love to you is probably the four-poster bed in his chambers. The massive wooden frame provides a sense of grandeur, and the plush mattresses ensure a comfortable ride. But he also enjoys taking you outdoors, finding secluded spots amidst the rolling hills and verdant forests surrounding his home. Sometimes he'll lay you down on a blanket spread across the grass, making love to you under the open sky with nothing but the sounds of nature for company.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

The sight of you, glowing and panting, is enough to get him hard in seconds flat. But there are certain things that really turn him on - like seeing you dressed up provocatively in lingerie or high heels; hearing you moan his name as he thrusts into you; feeling your nails digging into his back as he claims your mouth with his own. And don't even get him started on the idea of dominating you completely - taking charge, telling you exactly what he wants from you and how he wants it done.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There are a few things that would definitely turn him off. For starters, he hates it when someone tries to use him solely for their own pleasure without reciprocating. He needs to know you're enjoying yourself too, otherwise it feels empty and unsatisfying. He's also not a fan of public displays of affection, preferring to keep his intimate moments private. And finally, he draws the line at anything involving pain or humiliation for its own sake - if it's not consensual or serves some greater purpose, he's not interested.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Benjicot is quite skilled with his tongue, able to bring you to climax with ease. He loves the taste of your arousal, savoring every drop as he laps at your folds before delving deeper to stimulate your clit. He's particularly fond of going down on you after you've come hard on his cock, drinking down your juices as he continues to pleasure you with his mouth and fingers. In return, he adores having your mouth on him, craving the warmth and wetness as you take him deep, your tongue swirling around his shaft and teasing the sensitive underside.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the situation and mood. When you're alone and have all night ahead of you, he tends towards slow and sensual – lingering kisses, gentle touches that tease rather than satisfy immediately. But once he's inside you, his pace quickens considerably – long powerful strokes designed to hit all your sweet spots over and over again until you're writhing beneath him in pleasure. If time is limited or you're caught up in passion, however, he can be quite rough – pounding into you fiercely as he chases his own release.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He doesn't mind a quickie now and then, especially if they're caught up in the heat of the moment or pressed for time. But he prefers to take his time with you whenever possible – he finds true satisfaction in exploring every inch of you slowly, savoring each reaction and response. That said, he knows life doesn't always allow for leisurely lovemaking sessions... which is why he's learned to make the most out of whatever time they have together.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Ben is definitely game to experiment and willing to take risks when it comes to your sexual encounters. He loves pushing boundaries – trying new positions, introducing toys or restraints into the playtime, even roleplaying scenarios that might seem far-fetched at first glance. As long as it's something you're both comfortable with and enjoy doing together, he's ready for anything.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He has impressive stamina, able to maintain his performance for several rounds without tiring easily. His endurance allows him to prolong the pleasure – whether it's taking you over and over again or keeping you satisfied with oral sex until you're both exhausted. He takes pride in being able to please you for hours on end if necessary.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He owns a variety of toys, including vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, handcuffs and blindfolds. He enjoys using them on himself occasionally - especially when he wants to experience something different or needs some extra stimulation. He also uses them on you sometimes – either during regular lovemaking sessions or when you're feeling particularly adventurous.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He does enjoy teasing you now and then, finding delight in leaving you wanting more before finally granting your desires. This could mean denying you orgasm until he decides you've earned it, or deliberately focusing attention on your erogenous zones just enough to keep you on edge without fully satisfying you. He finds the anticipation and desperation you feel in those moments incredibly arousing.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He isn't shy about making noise during sex – moans, groans, gasps of pleasure or pain, depending on what feels good to him at the time. Sometimes he'll whisper dirty words in your ear or growl encouragingly against your skin as he thrusts into you. The louder noises tend to come when he's close to climax.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

In addition to his physical prowess, Benjicot also possesses a sharp wit and a dry sense of humor. He's known to crack jokes during intimate moments – whether it's making light-hearted comments about the positions or quipping sarcastically when things get too intense. It helps keep things fun and lighthearted despite the raw passion between you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His cock is 7 inches long, uncut with a slight curve towards the tip. It's always hard and leaking pre-cum. He always has a thick load of creamy white cum that drips out when he orgasms.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is exceptionally high – he craves intimacy and satisfaction constantly. Even when you aren't actively engaged in lovemaking, he often finds himself thinking about how much he wants you – what he'd do given half a chance to satisfy his urges. It fuels his desire to please you every time they come together physically.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He tends to fall asleep fairly quickly after sex – exhaustion setting in from the intensity of their activities combined with the deep relaxation that follows release. His body still tingles with lingering sensations as he drifts off, leaving you alone in bed with thoughts swirling around in your mind about what just happened.

[lilsoftext]

•~* HEATED GLANCES *~•

-chris sturniolo x female reader

-summery: jealousy on the stream

——————————————————————————

Chris and Matt were in the middle of a live stream, the banter flowing easily between them as they engaged with their fans. They sat side by side, gaming controllers in hand, talking to the chat while they played Call of Duty. The stream had already been going on for about an hour, and thousands of fans were tuned in, excited to watch the brothers compete against each other.

Everything seemed normal until the door creaked open behind them. Chris’s focus shifted instantly as Sof walked into the room, fresh from the gym. She wore black gym shorts and a black t-shirt, her skin still glowing from the workout, and her horse necklace—the one she got from her childhood friend—glistened against her chest. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her bloody red nails stood out as she brushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Chris smiled immediately. His entire mood lifted the moment he saw her. “Hey, Sof,” he said, standing up from his chair without hesitation. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a kiss. The chat went wild, spamming hearts and excited messages like “CHRIS AND SOF!!!” and “WE LOVE SOF!”

Sof returned his kiss, her arms draped around his shoulders as she smiled. “Hey, babe. How’s the stream going?” she asked, her voice soft and breathless from the workout.

Chris grinned at her, his hands resting on her hips. “It’s better now that you’re here.”

But as Sof smiled and stepped back, Chris noticed something off. Matt hadn’t said anything. Instead, he was staring at Sof in a way that made Chris uneasy. His eyes lingered a little too long, and Chris felt a small spark of jealousy flare up inside him.

“Hey, Sof,” Matt finally said, standing up and walking over. He gave her a hug too, his arms wrapping around her waist for just a moment longer than necessary. “Good to see you.”

Sof hugged him back casually, unaware of the tension between the brothers. “Good to see you too, Matt. What are you guys doing on stream tonight?”

“Just the usual,” Chris replied, though he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Matt. His brother’s gaze hadn’t left Sof, and it was starting to irritate him.

Sof stayed in the room for a few more minutes, laughing and chatting with the two brothers before she excused herself. “I’m gonna go shower,” she said with a smile. She turned and left the room, her scent of sweat and perfume lingering as she walked away.

Both Chris and Matt watched her leave. But while Chris’s gaze was filled with love, Matt’s seemed different—more lingering, more intense.

As soon as Sof left the room, Chris sat back down in his chair, trying to refocus on the game. But he could feel the tension rising in his chest. He tried to ignore it, but Matt wasn’t making it easy.

As the stream continued, Matt cracked a joke—something harmless and about the game. But Chris couldn’t stop the irritation that had been bubbling inside him. “Yeah,” Chris muttered, his voice sharper than it had been all night, “so funny when two brothers like the same girl.”

Matt’s face froze. He stared at Chris, his hands hovering over his controller. “W-What do you mean?”

Chris didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached over and muted the microphone, making sure the stream couldn’t hear what he was about to say. Then he turned to Matt, his eyes narrowed with barely contained jealousy. “You need to stop looking at Sof like you want her.”

Matt blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden confrontation. “Chris, what are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Chris snapped, his voice low but dangerous. “Every time Sof’s around, you can’t keep your eyes off her. It’s like… I don’t know, like you’re into her or something.”

Matt leaned back, a defensive tone creeping into his voice. “Dude, you’re overreacting. Sof and I are just friends. I wasn’t looking at her like that.”

“Yes, you were,” Chris shot back, his hands clenching around his controller. “It’s been happening for a while now, and I’m sick of it. She’s my girlfriend, Matt. Mine.”

Matt sighed, rubbing his temples as if he was trying to stay calm. “Chris, I swear, I wasn’t trying to make it weird. Sof’s great, but—”

“Don’t,” Chris interrupted, his voice hard. “Just don’t.”

Matt didn’t say anything after that, clearly realizing that this wasn’t a fight he was going to win. The tension between them was thick, and the atmosphere in the room had become stifling.

After another thirty minutes of strained gaming and awkward silences, they ended the stream. Chris didn’t bother saying goodbye to the audience like he usually would. Instead, he immediately stood up and headed toward his bedroom, his heart pounding with frustration and jealousy.

He opened the door to find Sof just stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a white towel. Her skin was still damp, and her hair fell in wet waves around her shoulders. The sight of her made Chris’s heart skip a beat, and all the frustration he had been holding onto melted away.

Without saying a word, Chris walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the fresh scent of her shampoo and letting his hands run up and down her back.

“Chris?” Sof asked, her voice filled with surprise. “What’s going on? You okay?”

Chris didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tightened his grip around her, his heart aching with a mix of jealousy and love. “I just… I needed to hold you.”

Sof’s expression softened as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Chris, what’s wrong?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with hers. “It’s Matt. He’s been acting weird around you, and it’s been bothering me for a while. Tonight, on stream… it felt like he couldn’t stop staring at you. Like he wants you.”

Sof blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback. “Chris, Matt’s your brother. He wouldn’t—”

“I know what I saw,” Chris interrupted, his voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t like it, Sof. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Sof sighed softly, pulling him closer as she kissed his forehead. “Chris, you don’t have to worry about Matt. He’s your brother. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.”

Chris shook his head, his grip tightening around her waist. “I don’t know, Sof. I just… I get so jealous sometimes. The thought of someone else wanting you…”

Sof smiled gently, brushing her fingers against his cheek. “Chris, you’re the only one I want. You know that, right?”

He nodded, though the jealousy still lingered in the back of his mind. “I know. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Sof leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips, her hands cupping his face. “You won’t. I’m yours, Chris. No one else.”

Chris felt the tension begin to ease as he kissed her back, their lips moving together slowly, tenderly. When they pulled apart, Sof gave him a reassuring smile. “Come on. Let’s just go to bed.”

He nodded, feeling more at ease as they climbed into bed together. Sof lay on her back, and Chris immediately wrapped himself around her, resting his head on her chest. He could hear her heartbeat, slow and steady, and it calmed him down more than anything else could.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, Chris’s arms wrapped around her protectively as he whispered, “I love you, Sof.”

“I love you too,” Sof whispered back, stroking his hair softly. “Don’t worry about Matt, okay? It’s just you and me.”

Chris nodded, letting himself relax against her. Slowly but surely, the jealousy faded away as they cuddled up together. As he drifted off to sleep, Chris felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. With Sof in his arms, nothing else mattered.

Tomorrow, he’d deal with Matt. But tonight, all that mattered was that Sof was his. And nothing—no one—could change that.

——————————————————————————

i hope you enjoyed it. if you have any request, leave them down below.

lilsoftext <3



[rojacatmisa]

Chapter 10 ➺ Not a cloud in sight

Hey readers! I think this chapter can almost be read as a one shot as long as you read the summary first! It's a shorter and very fluffy chapter, still minor DNI sorry. Thanks, tough ones, that are keeping up with that really long story! It's still not the end of it!

Starting over in Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players?

Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique! Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze Chapter 8 ➺ Confusion and directions Chapter 9 ➺ A place for words

TW: smut +18, mention of periods 4,5K words

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

"Ladies and gentlemen please remain seated and attached during takeoff ."

My fingers squeezed the hand she had let out for me on the armrest.

"I’m glad I’m not seated next to you when we travel with the Real or I’d have a broken hand by now!" the goalkeeper chuckled lightly and winced, my grip crushing her palm as I focused on the cover of a magazine stored in the back of the seat in the front row. "Relax and enjoy your fight to Formentera" the title said provocatively. I was nowhere close to being relaxed, Misa’s poor hand being the proof of my fear of flying right now. 

I had never been an air person, afraid of highs, planes, and even of kites when I was young. My two feet had always felt right on spot when being firmly on the ground or at least less than ten feet above it. That was why I couldn’t even answer the goalie when the plane quitted the earth and took off toward the sky at full speed. 

I closed my eyes and tried hard to concentrate on the warm and large hand under mine. My grip loosen slightly, my palm was sweating and I wiped it on my jeans before taking Misa’s hand back. Her skin felt soft, her fingertips attempted soothing motions and succeed at making me loose my focus on the speed, the high and the feeling of being trapped. Misa’s fingers were always distracting.

The plane stabilized and the now familiar "seatbelt is no longer required" sound rang out and my eyes flung opened. "Respira, Cariño. Estoy aquí para ti", Misa left my hand but only to lift the armrest so she could wrap her arm around my shoulders. Her other hand found my chin and lift it, and I could do nothing but dive in her brown eyes as she led her face closer until her plump lips pressed lightly onto mine. 

I closed my eyelides again to let her kiss take me away from the plane. The feel of her lips ghosting all over my face sent shivers in my body, followed by the first itches of desire. I briefly thought of how easily Misa could work me up and wondered if there would be a day the tiniest contact of her lips wouldn’t make me want her at once. To put a stop to my growing excitement, I preferred to snuggle up to her. Breathing in her sweet perfume helped me finally relax a bit. 

"I know it’s not obvious right now but I’m like, really really happy we go on holidays together, Mis’", I murmured. 

"Oh… I was precisely thinking I should have left you at the airport…"

"I don’t believe you, nasty girl…" 

The young woman wrapping arm pulled me closer and she kissed my forehead, "En verdad, I can’t wait you meet Jenni, Ale and Laia, Cari!"

"You know, I’m a bit anxious to see them since you told me you and Jenni jumpscared Alexia so much once, she almost threw up…" 

"Don’t be scared, you’re perfectly loca para nosotras, you’ll blend in no time!" We both chuckled until a shake of the plane made me tense again and I sunk deeper into the goalie’s cuddles. 

***

The taxi parked in front of a large modern villa with the biggest bay windows I’d ever seen. The house was juste above one of the many beaches of Formentera island, framed by many pine trees and colorful flowery bushes, the hard sun of noon perfecting the chic summer decor. 

We picked up our luggages and went to the front door, Misa rang the doorbell while I twisted my fingers nervously, feeling so intimidated by meeting her closest friends. 

"¡Estan aquí! Ya voy!" I heard from behind the door. I stepped aside, half hiding behind the goalie as the door opened in front of us. 

Jennifer Hermoso was one hell of a woman, no, it was more than that, it felt like a hurricane was about to swept us both when Jenni saw us and jumped on her friend with many hugs and excited words of welcome. 

After what, she turned to me, so tall and muscled she could have been really intimidating if wasn’t for her large and warm smile. "Nicky! Por fin nos conocemos!" As Jenni hugged me eagerly, two other faces appeared in the door way. 

"Jenni, acaba de llegar, déjala respirar", said a blond sturdy woman who could be no one but the charismatic and famous Alexia Putellas. 

The third one, Laia Codina, added "La estás ahogando, Jenni."

But Misa interrupted the chatty women, "Hey… chicas, habla ingles porfi, Nicky entiende algunas frases pero no habla corramente español", and the three of them nodded in agreement before we followed them inside the villa.

"Nicky! So it is you who snatched the heart of our bromista Misa!" Jenni wave to me to come to the kitchen bar as she pulled a bottle of tequila from the cupboard. The other footballers quickly joined at fetching the different cocktail ingredients. 

I pulled a nervous smile "Yeah, it’s me. What does bromista means?" 

"It means prankster!" Laia exclaimed from across the kitchen. "Chicas, do you realize Misa la malota has found a girl ? How do you stand her, Nicky? Everybody here knows she’s disreputable." 

With a little smile on her lips, Misa huffed and rolled her eyes as she aligned five glasses in front of the striker, who was pouring tequila into a big shaker. 

"I’m keeping an eye on her", I said, looking proudly at the goalie leaning on the bar beside me, and I patted the top her head.

The three footballers simultaneously released a tenderized "Ohhhhh". 

"She’s the good one for you, Misa", said Alexia. 

"Yes, she hasn’t even argued with the fact that you’re a mean girl", Jenni pointed out.

"She’s got what you need, I say you should married her now", concluded Laia. 

That made me laugh, the nonsense of the three friends but especially the goalkeeper’s exasperated pout.

"I knew it was going to be like this…", Misa sighed, resigned. 

Jenni handed Misa a few limes, a knife and a juicer, "Exprima las limas, porfa. We wouldn’t let you get away without checking Nicky’s alright, we know you, Hermanita", she said before turning to me, "Nickita, swimming pool or city tour this afternoon?" 

"Pool’s great", I answered, too tired from the flight to really enjoy a long walk in town. 

I couldn’t suppress a yawn. "You want to take a nap? There is no rush", Misa asked me while putting the freshly pressed lime juice into the shaker. 

Laia and Alexia leant onto the bar and whispered to each other, peering at us mischievously. "She’s so soft when she’s talking to her"

"Lover Misa is back on board!"

"Look at her sparkling eyes!"

"¡Basta! Chicas!" Misa grumbled, "It’s getting annoying!" 

Jenni laughed, "You’re such a joke! You’d be doing ten times worst if you were in our position!" 

"You don’t know, I was never in that position", the goalie shrugged. 

Jenni precisely divided the shaken beverage between the glasses, handed each woman a cocktail and a friendly shove at the goalie.

"Sabes que te queremos Misa! Bienvenida a Nicky ! Salud Chicas, holidays has just started!" she said, lifting her glasses, and we joined her in a profusion of joyful exclamations.

***

Holidays weren’t just holidays. 

It took me a moment to realize I didn’t have to drop Misa’s hand or tear my eyes from hers as soon as I’d heard footsteps approaching. I didn’t have to abruptly stop a kiss like we often did when we’d snatch an intimate moment in the looker room. 

During the first days, I couldn’t be close to the goalie, the kind of closeness that means more than standing next to her, in front of her friends, jumping or twitching uncomfortably with the feeling of being observed. 

Misa, on her side, didn’t seem to have internalize our hiding habits. She often came to hug me or put a swift kiss on my lips every time she had the occasion, causing her infernal friends to gossip more each time. It was true Jenni, Alexia and Laia quickly made me feel confortable, mocking and teasing everyone like I had always been part of their groupe and even Jenni’s amused and tender look began to feel like a caring presence. 

A few days passed and I barely hided when my eyes devoured the goalie dripping body climbing out of the pool. I only tempered myself by modesty and to avoid being the target of new mockeries. The next day, the way I giggled when Misa pulled me on her lap while sun tanning even made me feel light, her mouth grazing my bare skin only a cute demonstration of affection. 

So slowly I got it, being here meant being free. 

I could feel being both her friend and lover when she would absentmindedly put her hand on my thigh, grab my waist when I’d passed by or whispered something silly in my ear as we chatted all together by the pool. We could hold hands when our little groupe wandered around the streets of Es Pujols. We could dance pressed together in a tender making out at the club, surrounded by people who didn’t give a damn about Real Madrid and who was kissing its goalkeeper. 

But the best part of it was to be with her, all day, all night, days after days. There were no goodbyes, no being appart, even for a day or so, no moments in between. Just moments with my girlfriend, living with my girlfriend and enjoying every little bit of it, from her burned morning toasts to her loud snores having me to put earplugs every nights. It was like an endless day off in Madrid where not only a city but a whole island stood ready for us to explore as a couple, surrounded by friends, with no other things in mind than planing our next cruise or booking a local speciality restaurant we wanted to try.

Being Misa’s girlfriend was easy and flowing like the waveless sea of Formentera. 

***

“ … and they found the guilty vein and burned it”, Misa finished, smiling mildly at my astonished expression.  

I reset my position on the stone bench, crossing my legs, the screeching of cicadas filling our last night on the island. “And it healed your tachycardia?” 

“Yes, I was healed and able to play football again!” she concluded with small laugh like going through conscient heart surgery at the age of thirteen was nothing more than buying bread. 

I was gagging, impressed by her courage at a young age and by the strength and determination it gave her since. "Woaw, I’m speechless. You already loved football back then".

"Football is my passion for life, I can’t live without it. Like… you couldn’t live without chocolate chips cookies".

I slapped her shoulder, "Tsss, silly girl! You’re just bummed because you can’t eat my biscuits!"

"No, I swear you have a problem with sweet food, Nicky! Your cupboards are always full of it! Like, your kitchen is stuffed with several boxes of the same biscuit, it looks like a shop!" Misa laughed, looking at me tenderly. 

"You never know what could happen, I don’t want to go hungry in the middle of the night and have nothing to eat…"

"It has never happened since we started dating. I’m telling you, you’re addicted to sugar! I should call you Azúcariño from now."

And Misa took me in her arms, love in her eyes so visible I blushed and was happy for the darkness of that part of the garden. "You would not!" I chuckled, moving a strayed strand of hair from her face. 

"I surely would, Azúcari."

The brunette was already laying small kisses all over my face, making me laugh more, something in me purring deliciously at the feel of being loved so much. 

"You’re so sweet, Mis’", I said wrapping my arms around her broad comforting shoulders. "You’re right, I’m addicted. You’re my dark chocolate chunky cookie, all strong and sweet". 

Misa and I simply looked fondly at each other a moment, the moonlight reflecting in our shiny eyes while my fingertips traced random shapes on her nap. Then, I softy pressed my lips on hers and we lost ourselves in a long kiss as music started to resound from afar. 

“Everything is ready!”

I startled at the sound of Jenni’s voice close by, followed by the rustling noise of leaves and the tall and lean silhouette of the striker appeared behind us. 

"Hola tortolitos! Stop your crap and join the party!"

"Party!" Misa jumped on her feet at once "Vamos Nicky, yeahhhh!", she screamed, running toward the house. 

Jenni and I both rolled our eyes. "Misa…", we giggled in synch. 

When we arrived near the pool, Misa was already dancing like a beast with Laia, both of them covering the song with their voice. Jenni was quick to join them while I preferred to go sit in a lounge chair beside Alexia, watching her three teammates with a motherly look. 

"They’re always wild", she laughed. 

"Yeah, they’re having so much fun", I agreed, my eyes not leaving the bouncing shape of Misa dancing and jumping excitedly while looking in turn at Jenni and Laia. 

"And you Nicky, are you having good holidays ?"

I sighed of ease, "Perfect". 

The footballer chucked lightly "Good, I’m happy for you two. I hope you’ll find a way about the work problem", Alexia added a bit awkwardly. 

My heart tightened. Of course Misa has told them about the clause. I was searching my mind about what to say when two large hands pulled me to my feet and dragged me to the dance floor.  

"You have to dance on this one, it’s Formentera de Aitana! So right on point!", Misa told me, hopping in place while pushing me in the middle of the dancing girls. Soon their spirit took me too and we all sang in a chaos of false notes. 

We danced for hours, song after song. Time didn’t seem to exist as the party stretched in the night, cocktails and beer refilled as soon as swallowed. 

"No! No! Misaaaa! Noooooo!", I screamed in vain as the goalkeeper heaved me in her arms and ran toward the swimming pool with little care for my protests. A second later, our bodies broke the water surface with a huge splash.

I regain my breath, spitting "Fuck you Mis’! I wanted to wear those shoes tomorrow! And you took yours off before jumping! » I yelled, mad at the sight of the abandoned white snickers beside the pool.

The goalie just laughed and pulled me close to her, the melodious notes of the music accompanied our bodies pressing against each other in the water.

"Te quiero a ti… let’s go upstairs, we’ll say we’re tired". The brunette softy said, knowing exactly how to make herself forgiven, and I shivered with the realisation of how badly I wanted her right now.

***

I pushed Misa against the bedroom mirror, her hair still wet from the pool sent droplets on the glass. Our room was in fair distance from the party, we had closed all the doors we could and the air was warm and loaded with humidity inside the villa. 

My fingers slipped under her drenched T shirt and rose along her spine to reach the hook of her bra. I pulled both of them off, took a step back to take in the half naked figure of the goalkeeper. A smug smile spread on Misa’s face as my look got heavier with desire. 

Her hands grasped her own short, she slowly pushed it down her ankle and stepped out of them. She dared stay there a moment, in front of the mirror, the reflection presenting to me her bare body from every angles. 

I reached out to her, pressing against her. “You’re fucking gorgeous...” I yelped on her lips and she led me onto the bed, laying on her back before swiftly pulling me over her. I chuckled at her eagerness, taking my top off as I straddled her.

“I was dying to do that for hours! You were so pretty on that bench...” she panted, working at undressing me as well. But she froze as she pulled my pantie down. “Uh, um, mierda... Nicky, you’re having your period..."

“What?! No!“ I moaned bitterly, jumping off her and heading to the bathroom. “Fucking shit! No!”.

Misa groaned from the bedroom “Madre mia! Not on our last night together!”

“I think I'm more frustrated that you!” I said, changing pantie and coming back to the bed. I sent her a pleading look before bending down toward her lips. I kissed them softly, felt my core already screaming for her touch and my stomach swirling lightly. “But I think I’m ok to take care of you all night long, then” I confessed, chuckling at my girlfriend fidgeting under me. 

The goalie let out a small whimper and closed her eyes as her fingers sunk in my hair. Still kissing her with passion, I slowly spread my legs, opening hers wide in the same movement. Misa released another whine and squirmed. I was aiming to work her up and we stayed like this a moment, depending our kiss and caressing.

The quickening rhythm of her breathing encouraged me to hold on. I sent a finger tracing the shape of her abs and felt her hips bucking over nothing. My palms brushed the insides of her tights, going, but very slowly, toward her intimacy. Her hips wiggled again, accompanied by a low moan. “Nicky... you want me to be as frustrated as you?” 

“Shh, just wet a little more for me” I teased, not really minding if she had get the play on the word as the young woman pulled my lips against her neck and sighed. I took my time to lick the soft skin there and ended by nipping her earlobe, sending a shiver along the goalkeeper’s wriggling body.

Lowering my hips, I spread her legs more and started to press against her powerful tights. The moves sent her body upward in little trusts, her intimacy still spread out and completely left alone. Misa’s brows were furrowed, lost in her longing as her arms ensnared my neck.

“Por qué me torturas así?” the brunette shuddered against my lips.  

It was my time to moan, the thought of arousing Misa beyond reason blowing my mind and setting my lower belly afire. I continued to grind on her more roughly as I pined both her hands onto the pillow. Her chest rose up as she arched, whining more, and presented itself irresistibly to me. 

I descended my mouth to graze at the flower tattooed between her breast. My lips found her nipple and sucked it gently. Her legs wrapped themselves around my hips as I eagerly licked her chest, turning both of us into a whining mess. The brunette legs were pressing on mine, desperate for a contact between them but I hold them wide apart and she finished by closing her eyes, her plump lips parting to let out frustrated whimpers.

My mouth ended her complaint, pushing my tongue between her teeth and my fingers between her legs. Her jaw dropped as she released a long sigh of relief. Misa was drenched, having me panting with delight and I waisted no time before gathering her wetness on my fingers tips to coat her lips and slide easily on her core. Her pelvis moved along with my fingers. She had buried her face in the side of my neck, her mouth on my ear allowed me to perceive every sounds of her jerky breathing, making my hairs bristle and my brain dizzy with want.

When I stared to move in circles on her clit, the woman moans turned into tormented cries. She squirmed again, her pelvis pressing more against my hand and sliding my fingers downer. 

Getting where Misa wanted me most, I tried to settle better over her body when I heard her whiny voice in my ear. “The strap we brought, in the drawer facing the bed… I want you… llévame”

I moaned, her demand spreading goosebump over my all body, and rose up at once to retrieve the precious item. I opened the drawer, searching at the back of it, my hand falling on a suggestive shape wrapped in a silky black fabric and I swiftly pulled out a purple toy and a harness. 

Misa stretched lasciviously as she watched me put on the harness, securing the toy in it and coming back onto the bed over her. Her hooded eyes kept looking up at me expectantly, yet her moves directed my body over her, guiding my hips until the end of the strap rubbed against her core. The sexual tension between us was so strong it was palpable as we continued to stare in each other eyes, our breath rasping and our hips moving in anticipation. 

I led the strap downer to line it up with her entrance. “listo?” I preferred to ask, making sure she was still willing to take it. 

Misa nodded and enfold me with her arms as I began to push very slowly. The goalie winced at the stretch, her grasp tightening around my shoulders. “Are you alright?” I checked. 

“Sí” she sighted, “Bésame, Nicky.” 

I obeyed immidialaty, kissing the corner of her mouth while pushing further inside. Misa’s mouth fell open. A particularly loud cry filled the bedroom, her back arching when my hips met her pelvis. I waited for her to get used to the feel, our face pressed together in a tender making out, and pulled out softy. Her hands racked randomly on my back, holding me closer as I plunged the strap again and I started to make love to her. 

I slightly quickened the pace, Misa whined louder, her hips accompanying the new rhythm. As she arched more, her head fell back onto the pillow, her arms going up and her fingers digging into it. My nose grazed the crook of her exposed neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

I was beyond the point of excitement, feeling something hot and swollen growing inside me as my love for Misa seemed to overflowed all around us, bonding us more than the strap between our legs. I felt the toy going in less easily, guessed she was tightening around it and I slowed down. The rhythm less demanding, my glance rested on her face, her blissed out features were more than I could take in. 

A high pitch moan escaped my lips. Misa opened her eyes, two dark pools reflecting my own craving. I couldn’t suppress a strangle yelp as something burst inside of me. My hips pressed against her pelvis as my body shivered under the uncommonly soft and fluttering orgasm that took over me. It felt different, less intense than coming at touching but it lasted as I stayed unmoving, buried inside of her. 

I paused a moment, my lips brushing her cheeks, breathing out my pleasure and emotions, before resuming my trusts inside and out. As soon as I moved again, her whines resounded in the bedroom, higher pitched, almost pleading now. Combined with the way her fingers sunk in my flesh, I could tell she was close and I started to pound harder and faster.

This time Misa fell silent. I felt the small blows of her breast on my face, erupting from her mouth each time I pushed my strap back inside. Her pretty features were frown hard, dying for a release, her all body clinging to the toy, her tights starting to tremble as I filled her again and again.

“Dios mio! ” She cried. I was panting now as I felt her clenching again. My forearms supporting my own weight were becoming shaky but I hold on, trying to keep a steady pace. I grasp her muscled shoulders, burring my face in her neck, knowing she could hear how insanely turned on I was by making love to her like that. 

A long cry escaped her soft lips, her brows furrowing more before relaxing completely when a last thrust pushed her over the edge. She yelled again and again, louder every time, her body wiggling with enjoyment under mine as her embrace tightened madly on me, locking me there when I wouldn't have moved an inch away from her. 

Her whimpering lasted, quieter now, and she loosened her grip. I pulled out of her and took the harness off. I dropped myself at her side, crawling back to her face. My heart was drumming in my chest with efforts and emotions as I kissed her cheek, my palms stroking her shivering body with all the tenderness I could. “I love you so much.” I sighed, feeling my eyes burning at the sight of her, crumbling with pleasure. 

Misa rolled toward me, her breathing was still shaky and her eyes shut tight as she nested her face against my chest. “Humm, love you Nicky” she whispered, her lips slightly trembling. “You make me feel so good, and safe.” 

I pressed her body closer, not baring the tiniest space between us, my heart bursting under my overwhelming feelings. Misa’s words felt like a gift nobody had ever give me… A few tears fell from my eyes before I knew what was happening, dripping on the goalie resting in my arms. 

She looked up at once, tender a first, then lost when she saw I was crying.

“It’s alright” I smiled, my voice heavy with my emotions, “I’ve never felt that way with anybody… you’re so special Misa, and you make me feel special too.”

Misa’s fingers delicately wiped the tears off my face, her lips pressing on my temple. “You’re going deeper than the strap…” the goalie’s chuckled, her own eyes shiny. 

I didn’t know for how long we stayed like this but we had fallen asleep for a long time when our bodies finally parted. When the light woke me up in the middle of the night, I realized we hadn’t pulled the curtain, the full moon high and bright in the cloudless sky. Tomorrow, each of us would return to their families for the rest of holidays. Misa and I would not see each other for three weeks.

I went back to bed after having closed the curtains, pressing my face between her shoulder blades and I started drifting back to sleep, her snores welcomed tonight, knowing that I was going to missed even that in a few days.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

[fluffypotatey]

*puts on my Professor glasses* Macky really knows EXACTLY how to talk to Wukong, let's dissect it! M: Looks like things are going smoothly. W: I say, you've been here the whole time, haven't you? M: FFM is your home, but it's also mine. W: Did you find anything? M: Still nothing, however. Now the Jade Emperor is no longer present. The Celestial Realm already gives me an unsettling feeling. M: Wukong...that kid. W: I understand. M: You have to go and talk to him. W: I know! But...he still isn't ready. M: I see. You're the one who isn't ready, yet. How did you even become a teacher! M: He has to be. We all have to be realistic. W: He's just a kid. We can't let him... M: Who says he's just a kid! Why is it him? When you chose him, did you know? W: I didn't know, I really didn't know! I just followed...a feeling. M: Are you not the least bit worried?! This child has all of your special powers, and he always runs into trouble. Have you never questioned this before? Not a single person knows where he came from. Is it not strange?! M: We still have no clue as to whoever let out Azure Lion. All your old foes returned in one swoop. Are you not even a little- W: Then what about you? You also suddenly came back. M: Argh- M: I say, someone must be manipulating us behind our backs. Especially Xiaotian. But they still haven't succeeded. W: Then tell me. What about you? M: Tell me do you want my help or not?! / W: Not long ago you were still against me! / M: I see, you're just a- / W: ...after I assume you'll teach me how to train my own disciples? ~ Xiaotian Interupts ~ M: Look. That kid has made you his idol. You're his one true hero, but you... W: But I what? M: He has to understand, he doesn't need to carry these burdens. You have to do better. You can really tell whose the chatty one in this relationship XD Wukong might be a lil annoyed, but he's tolerant. And Macky is a little playful turd as always. Where Wukong gets gloomy and concerned, Mac swaps between teasing and serious in a blink. Then things get a lot more strained and tense, but unlike their previous fights, it never escalates into violence. Never a growl, never a raised fist. They're right at the edge, and they drop it. I'm very much interested in the psychology of arguments and when it comes to people latching onto (1) thing a person says and relating it slightly off topic to avoid talking about that other thing, like Wukong is doing here. It's so cool seeing how physical they are in trying to visibly control their emotions around each other, and how they keep trying to hold themselves back from tearing in further, always pausing and halting, and switching to another thing. They're TRYING. Ugh. I think Mac was trying to give a comforting smile at the end, but it's kinda warped by the whole ~ everything else. ~ Anyhow, I like how this starts with Wukong establishing, or rather cementing to Macaque that he believes MK is a kid. And while Macaque argues against that, he did also say before that Wukong should talk to him. And they have their squabble, with Mac pushing Wukong's buttons to get him to say something, BUT the fact this gets resolved with he needs to understand he doesn't need to carry these burdens. YOU HAVE TO DO BETTER. Like of all things Mac could have chosen. He's playing right into what Wukong himself believes, that will overwrite the "MK isn't ready" thing. Because let's face it. Mac is right when he says Wukong also isn't ready for that talk yet. He's so down throughout all this, Wukong probably feels himself that he needs to be better. AND by appealing to the fact MK is a kid, without explicitly stating that, just a statement that cannot be denied, BUT is a subject that undoubtedly, even Wukong cannot avoid. Because he wants better for MK. For him to not walk down the same path as him. Macaque has basically nudged Wukong into having that talk he wanted with MK by reframing it differently from what Wukong wasn't ready for. Thoughts? Critique?

*squishes you* anon…anon, you’re telling me..that this was the actual dialogue between SWK and Macky in 5x01. that what i just read is the translated version of the Mandarin dub. correct?

ok ok cool. i’m cool. gucci. feeling fantastic lemme just

WHAT THE FUCK LMK

ok so i ranted in the tags but realized i forgot to say more things (also i was worried i’d exceed the tag limit bc that is a real thing what do you know!)

so, anon, you said Macky knows how to talk to Wukong and yeah agreed but for me it’s for of the sense of “Macky knows how to get his words under Wukong’s skin”

he knows how to let his words sink in and fester in Wukong’s mind, making him reconsider things or another to help speed up certain decisions or choices Wukong is hesitating on. and ain’t it fascinating how despite how long it’s been since either character have talked or interacted with each other, they still know the ins and outs of their behavior and thoughts.

Macky knows Wukong needs to talk to MK but is holding back. Macky after one answer from Wukong realizes that it’s Wukong who isn’t ready for that conversation and switches tactics to try and breach that mental block

Wukong, in a need to avoid the conversation, brings up the questions surrounding Macky’s reason for even being alive again because that is information neither have talked about and oh hey! Macky is avoiding that conversation too! and it’s an important one to have so he pushes for it, but Macky knows it’s being pushed to avoid their original discussion and is annoyed bc “classic Wukong, never wanting to delve too deep into topics where he’ll need to be vulnerable for” (especially when said vulnerability is with his newly re-allied ex friend Macaroni himself)

god i love them

[jellophoid]

FIRST YEAR OF COLLEGE IS FINISBEDD— some of my favourite pieces from my drawing 2 class ^^)) what a fun year

[cuteniaarts]

Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!

Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3

(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)

Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening: