#u better not fumble him again
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he’s so fucking gorgeous like he’s a literal angel
the flowy hair, the hair length (suits his headshape), the blonde highlights hello?! the way the hexcore scarring is identical to his hair? his eyes? the moles? he literally looks so divine i love him.
#arcane spoilers#arcane#viktor arcane#arcane fandom#arcane season 2#league of legends#viktor lol#bro is literally ethereal#style so good it only lasted 1 ep#this is my favourite viktor style ngl#he’s the prettiest man in this show#argue with the goddamn wall#move over jayce#istg#u better not fumble him again#wherever you are#or i WILL find u
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it's been one day and im still pissed when will this end. season 4 had some neat assassination scenes but none of them shined as bright as the writers assassinating the characters like go off monarchs
#like dude#all of these characters have SO MUCH potential#and it's wasted time & time again#LUTHER MY SON why do they keep portraying him as himbo material#like sure he can be goofy and fun whatever who cares but???? it's like they keep using him for JOKES#klaus idk dude they just wanna torture him ig?#in every single season they put him in yet another traumatizing situation and for what lol#they don't even use it for character growth it's just?? angst for the sake of angst atp#ALSO STOPP LUTHER DIDN'T EVEN GET TO GR I EVE SLOANE#five...............#marvellous five writers have already talked about his character assassination and no one knows better than them ok#im just soooo tired#also LOL BENNNNN#im a ben blog AND HERE I AM SAYING NOTHING#BC WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT JENNIFER INCIDENT HUH#sparrow ben was a mistake there i said it i don't care#sparrow ben has no connection to the hargreeves !! fight me if u disagree#viktor wanting to save him and their little bonding scene where ben says 'im scared' is cute & all and was probably meant to parallel +#ben comforting viktor in s1 i if i remember correctly??#BUT THAT'S NOT EARNED u know why#bc ben <3 doesn't get <3 bonding moments <3 with <3 them <3#bc he IS right#they're not his family. his family was KILLED#they fumbled so hard with the jennifer incident im so pissed#really went & made his death so... idk how to explain#a plot device#that's all ben is#he IS a plot device#literally gets no growth whatsover#avril's ramblings
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Hate having adhd went to go work on my fallout modpack, got distracted while going to disable the steam overlay, ended up in the points shop, went to go edit my profile, decided to change my pfp, found a buried folder I forgot existed, found some old Veneer art I forgot existed, spent 45 minutes looking at all the old photos, STILL HAVE NOT TOGGLED ONE SIMPLE OPTION THAT SHOULD'VE TAKEN 30 SECONDS AT MOST
#I'm shocked I have these drawings scanned on my pc I don't remember doing that I must've done it before I left in case my mom threw all my#Art out again#Anyway at age 12 I was writing a better '3 merpeople go on land to find a 4th one that has been disguised as a human all his life' story#Than Ma/ko Merm/aids EVER did so uh. Take that Jonathan#God it sucks so bad that kid me would've LOVED MM if it just DIDN'T HAVE THE STUPID GENDER WAR BULLSHIT#Literally the entire first and second season is just. So fucking stupid. I wrote a God damn essay about how they fumbled Erik's story SO BAD#I don't even LIKE Erik BUT THEY DID HIM SO DIRTY#THE CHARACTER POTENTIAL AND WRITING COULD'VE BEEN BETTER THAN ZANE B. S1 OF H2O BUT THEY THREW IT AWAY AND FOR WHAT!!!!!!!#Seriously you're telling me a kid who was abandoned his entire life for being male didn't have a bigger impact on the pod than FUCKING ZAK?#That plot twist of 'oh actually Zak was a merman all along' was 100% so they could guilt free write Erik out#Instead of like. Having him face his actions or redeem himself in like. Any way. He just fucks off. THEN the pod is like lol Zac were sorry#We're sorry for literally not doing anything to you because you were privledged enough to have a mother who was super ultra powerful#So you were never really affected by our actions until JUST now. Unlike that other fuckface Erik who suffered his whole life alone#Also then in s3 there are STILL no mermen in the pod. Not even little mermen babies. No kids and teens they've welcomed back n apologized to#NOTHING#God. Mm pisses me off dude#AND I STILL HAVENT TOGGLED THAT FUCKING OPTIONS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#Cruddy rambles#God I'm not done I'm sorry fallout can wait YOU ARE TELLING ME THE GUY WHO TELLS US HOW SHITTY MERMAN BABIES R TREATED BY THE POD. IS NOT#THE SAME ONE THE POD APOLOGIZES TO IN THE SEASON FINALE BECAUSE THEY WROTE IN A SHITTY PLOT TWIST?#AUUUUUUUHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG#It's so bad. It's so fucking bad. It's so needlessly gendered and for what. They could've just had 2 rival warring pods#What pisses me off the most is that s3 (4) completely pivots and never really follows thru with the s1 and 2 story arcs#The writers just kinda wash thsir hands of that because 'hey the pod said sorry to zac' BUT THEN NOTHING ACTUALLY CHANGES!!!!#Maybe instead of having a constantly rotating cast of characters s3 (4) could've instead focused on Ondina and Erik's relationship a bit#Maybe have Ondina tell him she wants to just stay friends because she can't trust him. Have him IDK grow and change as a character?#Maybe so you can show kids nobody is born evil and we all need support systems and healthy relationships to grow and become better people??#THAT would've been a GOOD FOLLOW THROUGH#But no instead u just write him out of the show and never show any OTHER mermen who were exiled being welcomed back#Like u had Ondina becoming a teacher... Why not have Zac become a teacher for all the new mermen who were just recently welcomed back??
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—reject me not!
in which : when your sudden confession catches blade off guard, his response comes across as a rejection. though he realises his mistake, and tries his best to make things right. (...it gives the whole hq a headache)
slight humor, idiots in love, mutual pining, misunderstanding, you tease him w/o realizing (n he gets back at u hehe), reader is a stellaron hunter, stellaron hunters wingwomen!!!, art by @/kkuekkue on x. reblogs are appreciated! please enjoy <3
wc: 4.2k // hm secret santa? HOHOHO @mikashisus, rayray!! u might pull ur hair out at some parts idk :joy: happy reading n merry christmas my little elf xx
"i think i like you."
the words leave your mouth quicker than your brain can second-guess them.
blade freezes mid-step, his back visibly stiffening. when he turns to face you, his sharp, cold eyes betray a fleeting glimmer of surprise, perhaps, or confusion —but it disappears as quickly as it came.
he stares at you, his eyes widening just slightly, the faintest crack in his carefully maintained composure.
but then, his lips part, and all he gives you is a single, flat response.
"i see."
two short, dismissive words. not a smile, not a frown —just two clipped words. you tilt your head, expecting some form of elaboration, but instead he just turns on his heel, his coat swishing behind him as he starts to walk away.
(what you don’t see is the way his hands curl into fists as he walks off, how his steps falter just around the corner, or the way he presses a hand against his chest to steady the sudden, overwhelming ache blooming there.)
…must this guy really be so blunt?!?!!
you sigh, a little laugh escaping despite your current situation. of all the possible responses you could’ve imagined, ‘i see’ definitely wasn’t one of them. you shake your head, a part of you wonders if elio is watching, silently laughing at your predicament right now.
it’s fine. really. you should’ve known better than to think he’d say anything different.
though the big problem now is, blade knows about your silly crush on him, so facing him in the future is going to be a total nightmare that you’re not ready to accept. you can already feel the embarrassment creeping up like it’s going to suffocate you.
“where's [name]?”
blade steps into the base. silver wolf, tucked in the corner, engrossed in her console, raises a hand in greeting without looking up. blade nods in acknowledgment, before replying to kafka, "i went ahead of them," his voice sounds a little more strained than usual, before quickly turning to make a beeline for his room.
but kafka, ever perceptive, senses something’s off. she tilts her head with a smirk, "bladie, did something happen?"
he denies it with a quick shake of his head before slipping past her. having no other option, she resorts to… unconventional methods.
with a flick of her wrist and a soft, almost melodic whisper, she purrs, "listen to me.”
the moment those familiar words hit his ears, a wave of calm washes over him, and against his will, he halts mid-step. "now tell me what happened, will you?"
he sighs and he rubs the back of his neck. “take your time, bladie.” after a long pause he speaks again, "[name] said they... they liked me."
kafka watches him closely, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "and then what happened, hmm?" she teases.
out of the corner of his eyes, he sees silver wolf perk up at his words, but he pays her no mind as his thoughts are too tangled in what he’s about to say next, the words barely scraping past his throat.
...
the next hour consists of him being ‘lectured’ by his fellow coworkers.
he tries to tune out the barrage of teasing, but something about “bladie, that's not how you reciprocate,” to “ain’t no way bro fumbled that badly,” managed to stick with him, unfortunately. (he looks over to firefly standing to the side, but she only giggles and shakes her head at him.)
but really, how was he supposed to tell them that he panicked? that he was so stunned by your confession, so overwhelmed, that he could barely form a coherent sentence? that his awkward, dismissive reply wasn’t rejection, but a pathetic attempt to mask his own vulnerability?
the thought of you avoiding him, of thinking he doesn’t care, makes his chest ache with a pain he hadn't experienced for the past few centuries.
blade makes a mental note to find you as soon as possible. he doesn’t know how to explain himself, not entirely; words have never been his strong suit, but somehow, some way, he’ll make it up to you.
later, you return to the base, your steps hesitant as you walk in. the moment you enter, the group falls silent, all eyes snapping to you. there’s an awkward stillness in the air, like they were caught in the middle of something. your gaze sweeps over the room, and it lands on blade. when you lock eyes with him, a flush creeps up your neck, and you quickly avert your gaze.
"excuse me!" you blurt out and almost sprint to your room.
...do they all know?! this has to be the most embarrassing day of your life.
you agreed to meet kafka at a bar near your current mission to discuss your next task. the magenta haired woman had mentioned it casually when you’d asked, cryptic as usual, only revealing that the task was important but leaving out certain key details —such as conveniently leaving out the part about blade being there too, of course.
(“bladie,” kafka’s voice took on a singsong lilt, her playful smile unmistakable as she glanced at him. “you’re going to use this chance to make it up to them, ‘kay?”
blade only kept his eyes trained on the entrance, silently waiting for you to arrive.)
running late, your prior mission having dragged on longer than expected, you found yourself hurrying to the bar, weaving through the sparse but lingering foot traffic of the evening.
after what feels like hours, you finally make it to the bar. stepping in, your eyes scan the room for kafka, when suddenly, a man steps right into your path.
the man smiles warmly, though you could tell he’s had a few to drink tonight. his tone is friendly, with just a hint of flirtation as he strikes up a conversation, casually asking if you’d be interested in grabbing a drink sometime.
he’s polite, respectful even, and there’s nothing about him that feels overly forward or aggressive —just a man who’s trying his luck, that’s all. still, you can't help but feel a slight annoyance at the timing.
as you try to figure out a way to decline his invitation, you remain oblivious to blade’s gaze —specifically, how it's fixed on you, or rather, more pointedly on the back of the man’s neck.
“you’re going to snap his neck if you keep looking at him like that.” kafka’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone teasing as she watches the exchange from the side.
“i don’t like what he’s doing,” blade mutters, his voice low and filled with an edge that suggests far more than just mild annoyance.
kafka chuckles softly to herself, already knowing where this is headed. it’s not an outright confession of jealousy, of course —he would never admit to something as petty as that, and she knows better than to push him on this one.
nevertheless, she still catches it, her lips curling into a knowing smile. even if blade would never call it jealousy, it’s enough to push him into doing something completely out of character —something he’ll never, ever do (until now).
kafka notices immediately. her eyes widen just a fraction before she sets down her wine glass with a graceful motion, amusement dancing in her eyes. and perhaps to make sure he doesn’t look too foolish, she decides to play along and help him act the part.
a sharp clang of glass hitting the table catches your attention. your brows knit in confusion; you glance over instinctively, your eyes meeting kafka's for a brief moment. her expression is unreadable, but the faint curve of her lips makes you wonder what’s really going on.
curiosity pulls your gaze lower, to the drunk figure slumped over at her table, seemingly drunk, his head resting heavily on his arm. the spilled drink pools on the floor beside him, glinting under the dim light.
at first, you only catch a glimpse of dark, tousled hair, streaked faintly with deep crimson at the ends —so strikingly familiar it makes you pause. then, as your eyes trace over the sharp line of his jaw and the stiff set of his shoulders, realisation dawns on you.
wait a second.
your jaw nearly drops as you piece it together. the man lying there, seemingly drunk out of his mind, is none other than the last person you would want to see right now.
blade.
your gaze darts between him and the polite man still standing awkwardly in front of you. blade, on the other hand, never lets his guard down, so this... state of his? unprecedented.
apologetically, you offer a small smile to the man before rushing to blade’s side, urgency in every step as you push past the tables, heart hammering in your chest.
blade’s eyes subtly flicker over to you as you approach, and you can almost sense the slightest shift in his demeanor, the thought of you giving your time to someone else, especially someone so... ineffectual —grates at him.
he swallows the ugly feeling down his throat. perhaps he’s let this irked him more than it should. but it’s too late to back out now that you’re standing right beside him, the weight of your presence making the tension in his chest only more pronounced.
as if on cue, kafka’s voice breaks the silence, “as you can see, [name], our dear bladie here has gotten himself a bit... roughed up,” she says, casually catching the wine glass that had been teetering on the edge of the table.
her lips curl into a playful smile as she glances at blade, whose jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “drinking doesn’t seem to suit him, wouldn’t you agree?” kafka continues, her tone light but unmistakably amused. her eyes flicker between the two of you, as if she’s thoroughly enjoying the situation unraveling before her far more than she should.
you blink, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected scene. your worry only deepens as you shift your attention back to blade, who remains uncharacteristically silent, his head now resting on his arm as though he really had overindulged.
“blade,” you say softly, your voice carrying just the slightest edge of concern. “what happened?”
before he can answer —or before he’s forced to lie —kafka chuckles, waving a hand as if to dismiss your worry.
“oh, nothing serious. he just got a little too carried away with his drink.” she leans back in her chair, a sly glint in her eye that you’re too preoccupied to notice. your gaze falls back to blade, his hair slightly tousled.
without thinking, you reach out, gently brushing a strand strand from his forehead. his eyes flutter open at the contact —those striking, sharp eyes you’ve always found yourself drawn to, dark yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from.
you notice the faint redness creeping across his cheeks and the line of his jaw, down to his neck. his skin hot to the touch under your fingers. “you’re warm,” you murmur softly, assuming the alcohol is to blame.
if only you knew the warmth searing through him has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with you.
“ah,” kafka hums, pulling you out of your thoughts. “it seems something urgent has come up that needs my attention.” there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes. “i’ll leave you two to it.”
you glance at her, startled. “wait, what about—?”
“don’t worry about it,” she interjects, already getting up from her seat. “the bill is already on my tab.”
well, that wasn’t what you were about to ask anyway!
a sly smile curls her lips, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “hmm, it’s rare to see him like this. [name], you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” her tone is light, but the underlying implication is clear, leaving you flustered as she turns on her heel, striding off, leaving the two of you alone.
blade leans heavily against you, his tall frame making it an awkward challenge to keep him upright as you guide him out of the bar. one arm is slung over your shoulder, while his other hangs haphazardly against his side.
his head is tilted forward, strands of his dark, crimson-tipped hair brushing against your cheek, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him —whether from his predicament or his proximity, you’re not sure.
you shift your grip, looping an arm around his waist for better support, and his body tenses slightly under your touch. for someone playing the part of drunk so convincingly, he’s strangely aware of your every movement, his hand tightening just faintly on your shoulder when you stumble over a crack in the pavement.
“blade,” you murmur under your breath, trying to shift his weight more evenly as you inch forward. “you’re not making this very easy, you know.”
casting a glance his way, you’re met with a low, almost lazy hum in response. his expression is nothing short of a hazy indifference, though you swear you catch a flicker of clarity in his eyes —a brief, focused intensity that seems out of place, before he looks away.
you can feel the heat of his breath against your temple as he wavers with every step. the night air is cool, but the warmth radiating from his body is undeniable, pressing against your side in a way that sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. the closeness between you feels almost intimate in a way that will surely have you screaming into your pillow later that night.
as you continue down the empty street, blade’s mind races; this is his chance. he knows it. he should say something now, anything, to make it clear —to tell you how he feels. (and how it’s been eating at him for longer than he cares to admit.)
this is it, the moment he’s been waiting for, but all he can do is breathe in the scent of your skin and the warmth of your touch. the sensation is all too familiar, like the pounding in his chest —but this time, it’s not from the heat of battle.
just how much longer he has to deal with this utterly insufferable feeling?
it’s worse now, because as you navigate through the halls of the base, he’s beginning to wonder if this is what it means to care for someone —to be vulnerable.
“here,” you say softly as you stop in front of the door to his room.
he doesn’t want this moment to end.
you glance at him then, finally meeting his eyes, and the look in them knocks the breath from your lungs. they’re hazy, yes, but there's a sharpness beneath the mask of drunkenness, a quiet intensity that makes your heart beat a little faster.
you clear your throat, breaking the silence. "do you need anything else?"
"no," he answers, almost reluctantly. "i’ll be alright."
a twinge of disappointment surges through you. right… it was foolish to expect anything different. he’s already rejected you, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous for thinking it would be any other way.
you stand there for a moment, the silence between you growing thicker with each passing second, before you force yourself to nod, your voice soft as you try to mask the heaviness in your chest.
“goodnight then."
just as you turn to leave, you feel a sudden pull on your hand, your wrist tugged back with surprising gentleness.
"wait," blade suddenly says, and this time, there's no mistaking the sincerity in it. "thank you.”
his bandaged hand rests over yours, and a soft breath escapes you; flustered, you open your mouth to respond, ready to brush it off.
"oh! It's no pro—"
but you’re cut off before you can finish. he raises your hand, pressing his lips to the back of your palm in a soft, lingering kiss.
"—blem..."
your voice falters slightly as a rush of warmth spreads through you. every nerve in your body seems to spark awake all at once, making you hyper-aware of the spot from where his lips brushed against your skin. you freeze, your breath caught in your throat, unable to do anything but stand there, your hand still resting in his.
then, as if nothing happened, he steps back into his room and shuts the door behind him, leaving you standing there, still processing the unexpected moment.
safe to say you got little to no sleep that night. you roll over, staring at the ceiling, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. it feels ridiculous, embarrassing even, how many times you've replayed that scene in your head every time you close your eyes.
you couldn’t help but smile to yourself like a fool.
(“so bladie, how’d it go?” / “...”)
you hadn’t even planned on leaving the base today, let alone stepping foot into the brightly lit chaos of an arcade, but silver wolf had insisted —no, nagged, until you caved. and somehow she’d managed to drag blade (of all people) along, her smug grin all too telling as she pushed the two of you together and skipped off to “go play some gachas”
now, you stand awkwardly by blade’s side, the flashing lights casting a colorful glow over his impassive face. it’s hard to ignore how out of place he looks, his dark coat, sunglasses, and the mask covering his lower face a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere.
yet, somehow, he doesn’t seem to mind the sharp sounds of arcade machines beeping nor the kids screaming in excitement. he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you fumble with a stack of game tokens.
“you look thrilled,” you mutter, a sarcastic tone in your voice as you glance at him. it’s strange, though —there’s something oddly endearing about the way he’s standing there, the dark lenses of his sunglasses reflecting a faint outline of your own face. you catch yourself staring for just a moment too long, wishing you could see beyond the lens, wishing you could read his eyes—
you shake the thought off, it’s all just wishful thinking.
behind the shield of his sunglasses, blade’s eyes tracked your every subtle movement, almost unconsciously. he caught the way your expression softened as you turned toward the claw machine, how your lips curved ever so slightly when your gaze settled on that… thing.
it was maddening, how effortlessly you held his focus, how even a trivial moment like this could stir something deep in him. he told himself it was nothing, but the tightening in his chest said otherwise.
he wasn’t one to indulge in sentiment, yet something about the way you stared at that silly plush made him restless, made him want to do something about it, if only to keep that smile on your face a little longer.
would your smile grow brighter if that plush were in your hands?
“let’s go.”
“to where…?” you asked, glancing back at him, the curiosity evident in your voice.
he didn’t answer immediately, but you felt the familiar tug at your hand once again, gentle and insistent, as his gaze slips toward the claw machine where you had been staring earlier.
it’s not hard to imagine the scene as a sweet little moment, with him focused on the claw machine, trying to win you a plush like a doting partner would.
with a soft click, the claw tightens around the plush, and before you can react, it’s being lifted out of the pile, swinging toward the prize chute. you can't help but stare as he pulls the soft toy from the machine with a sense of quiet satisfaction.
(you pocket the rest of the tokens. guess he won’t be needing those… for a first-timer, he sure got lucky —must be beginners' luck, huh?)
you blink, slightly impressed. “wow, you’re good at this,” you remark, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.
without a word, he hands the plushie to you.
you tilt your head slightly, a bit unsure. “for me...?”
“it's yours. take it." he looks to the side; suddenly thankful for the mask —if it weren't for that, you'd surely see the crimson tint creeping up his cheeks right now.
you hesitate for a second longer before reaching out to take it, your fingers brushing against his, a tingle of heat pulses through you, leaving your hand feeling strangely warm.
“th-thank you," you manage to spit out, and your eyes dart away, suddenly very aware of how close he is. surely, this isn’t good for your heart!
the twilight sky stretches wide, the clouds are heavy, and you’re looking oh so earnestly at him. his heart beats a little faster, louder now, as if his body knows exactly what he wants but refuses to let him act on it.
but then, he blinks —once, twice; snapping himself back to reality. he can feel the space between you growing smaller, your presence growing closer.
his eyelids flutter shut instinctively.
and then, the soft press of your lips against his cheek.
a soft sigh escapes him, and his eyes crack open. if you could see his expression right now, you'd catch the vulnerability that flashes in his gaze. he swears he can feel the warmth of your kiss in his very bones.
though not quite the kiss he imagined… it was something. (re: you got his hopes up)
the shock of your own actions hits you like a wave. you swallow thickly, “sorry —i'll go find silver wolf.” avoiding his gaze as you fumble with the tokens in your hand. "i… i’ll pass the extra tokens to her."
without waiting for a response, you turn and hurry off, your pulse pounding in your ears, praying that the ground would swallow you whole.
that night, you lay in bed, the plushie clutched tightly in your arms. the softness of it contrasts sharply with the rush of confusion filling your chest.
why was he being so kind to you? after everything, after the way he rejected you just a few days ago, it made no sense. his actions felt contradictory.
you try to push the memory of the kiss out of your mind; impulsive decisions… often lead to mortifying outcomes. though when you glanced at him afterward, you could’ve sworn his ears were tinged with red, just peeking out from beneath his hair. nevermind, it’s probably your mind playing tricks on you.
blade, who’s as cold as the frost-kissed dusk, walks beside you through the lively festival, his dark coat a striking contrast to the vibrant reds and greens around you.
the faint scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant carolers. he doesn’t say much, but there’s something about the way his gloved hand brushes yours, intentionally or not —that makes the chill in the air feel less biting.
you swallow, focusing on the festive stalls ahead, the decorations glittering in the night. “you don't have to stick around, you know. i can manage by myself.”
his steps slow just slightly, and he turns his head toward you, finally speaking. “you think i’d just leave you here?”
the words catch you off guard, and you fumble for a response. “i-i just meant—”
“relax.” he interrupts, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips; his hand grazing yours again. this time, his fingers linger for a moment longer, almost as if testing the waters, before retreating back into the safety of his pocket.
your cheeks flush, and you pretend to be deeply interested in a nearby stall selling hand-knit scarves. just then, his voice cuts through the festive hum. “last week… when you said you liked me,” he starts, and your breath catches.
you whirl back to face him, your heart pounding. “don’t worry about it! really, i—”
“i wasn’t rejecting you,” he says, with an unexpected gentleness in his gaze. “i like you too, [name].”
blade removes his coat, the fabric warm against the cold air as he drapes it around your shoulders, pulling you closer. you stumble, your hand instinctively pressing against his chest to catch your balance.
you look up at him, your breath quickening, as his face draws closer, his eyes locked on yours with that familiar intensity. you let your eyelids flutter shut, lips trembling, heart pounding in your chest as the space between you narrows.
but instead of the kiss you were anticipating, you feel the gentle warmth of his lips brush against your forehead.
your eyes snap open in confusion, only to meet his smirking face. oh... this asshole!
“what?" he teases, his tone deceptively casual. “you seem pretty eager,” his voice drops an octave, hand gently tilting your chin as he leans in just close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin.
you glare up at him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. the way your lips quiver, unable to hold his gaze for long; the fact that he actually adores that flustered expression on your face... well, that’s when he realises. he’s too far gone.
what a dumbass lmfaoo
MASTERLIST.
#✧renwrites!#—stellaronhvnters.#hvntersecretsanta#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai starrail x reader#star rail x reader#hsr x you#honkai star rail x you#hsr x y/n#blade x reader#hsr blade x reader#blade x you#blade x y/n#hsr fanfic#hsr scenarios#hsr imagines#blade fanfic#hsr blade#blade hsr#honkai star rail#honkai starrail#honkai star rail fanfic#hsr fluff
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thinking abt fucking ur bfs hot dad after u and him split up....
cw: Dilf!Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader , age gap , unprotected sex , creampie , size kink , AGED UP MEGUMI (he's not actively in the story, just mentioned) , emotional cheating (reader clocks out emotionally before the breakup) , pining for toji b4 breakup, kitchen sex :3 , pet names (doll & lil’ one) , kinda fluffy ending.
wc: 2k-ish
notes: toji had megumi when he was 20 bc i said so, so the gap will make sense. megumi is 25, toji is 45, reader is somewhere around megumi's age.
this is a fic abt fucking ur exes hot dad, do not read if that makes you uncomfortable.
beta read by my muse @loverboyko yet again.
mwah (*still chews on u*)
you stepped into the kitchen of the house your boyfriend- or now ex lived. he still lived with his father, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, he was working on getting his own life together before moving out.
your heart was heavy as you reminisced the memories that this house will forever hold, the warm comforting smell of the house even pulling at your heart. you had originally come to pick up the last of your belongings, wanting to finally move on from the messy split.
but as you turned the corner towards the kitchen- his father was there, leaning against the counter. his muscular frame filling the space. toji’s eyes, cold and piercing, watched your every move. he had to know that you and megumi split, but even then. why was he staring at you like that? there was no way he knew that you had recently thought he was eye candy, drooling at him when you thought his back was turned.
you were happy with megumi, it wasn’t anything like that. you hadn’t dreamed of leaving him, towards the beginning of the relationship at least. but as time went on, megumi seemed to care less. he had you, but he wasn’t fighting to keep you. when the feelings for him were slowly dying, fading away to nothing- you looked towards his father in a different light. no more was it just recognizing he was an attractive male, it was something more, yearning.
"doll," toji grunted, his voice deep and gravelly. you huffed lightly, the name he had called you since you met the guy. it was endearing, something innocent. or it was until the way the simple word started to fall on your ears differently. when your view of him changed. now, it offered no sort of comfort, instead making your cheeks flare and tummy flip.
"what are you doing here? came crawling back to my son?" he joked, smirking slightly. toji was, or used to be a pretty shitty guy. but one night his age finally clicked, he wasn't getting any younger. since then he's tried his best to right some of his wrongs.the joke was distasteful to say the least.the pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as you felt a mix of emotions; anger at toji's rude remark, sadness from the memories of your empty relationship, and a strange, undeniable attraction to this older man who exuded raw, unleashed power.
"i-i just came to get my things," you stammered, the way his eyes staring directly through you made your voice come out more meek than you’d like. toji pushed himself off the counter and began to slowly circle you, his movements predatory. "my son always had some sort of gift when it comes to fumbling the things best for him," he remarked, his eyes roaming over your body.
all the progress toji had made on bettering himself seemed to melt away after meeting you. megumi bringing a pretty lil’ thing like you back to the house was pure hell. it was wrong, gross even for a man his age to look at you and feel his cock swell in his pants. there had been countless nights he locked himself up in his room, fucking his fist to thoughts of you. guilt flooding his post orgasmic state while he cleaned up was routine.
he saw the way you looked at megumi, your eyes shining like he had hung the stars and moon in the sky for you, and you only. your eyes, that's what made him sick with regret and remorse every time he came imagining it was your cunt squeezing him instead of his hand. but eventually, that look he saw you giving megumi changed. there was little to no love left behind your eyes when looking at him. instead, that glimmer he once saw, was now starting to stare directly back at him. he could practically taste the way you were begging him to touch you every time he caught your eyes on him.
"but you're too good for that doll. you deserve a real man to show you what love is." the blush on your cheeks deepened, feeling your body respond to his words despite telling yourself it was ‘wrong’. toji was so different from megumi, who had been gentle and considerate when pursuing you. there was something dangerously enticing about this older, more experienced man. reaching out, toji trailed a finger along your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"you want it, don't you?" he murmured, leaning down. his breath hot on your ear, fanning towards your neck."you want me to show you what it's like to be with a man who knows how to make a pretty lil’ thing like you feel loved?" you could hear the smirk in his voice, eyes too busy drinking in the muscle filled chest in front of you.
"y-yes," you whined, body betraying you as you leaned into his touch. toji smiled, a dangerous, seductive smile that promised wicked things. without warning, he grabbed you, pulling your body roughly against his. his lips crashed against your parted mouth, attempting to kiss you. it was messy, teeth clashing while a mixture of your and his spit gathered at the corner of your mouth. you moaned into his mouth, hands clutching at his shirt.
breaking the kiss, toji nibbled and sucked on your neck, leaving marks all over the sensitive skin. one hand gripped your hip, pulling you tightly against his hardening dick. the other slid up your thigh, under your skirt, and sandwiched itself between his cock and your pussy.
"so wet for me already," he growled, his fingers finding your twitchy cunt with ease. you gasped as he teased your clit, experienced movements circling it slowly before sliding two thick digits deep inside you. your eyes slipped down to where he was touching you, deeper than your own fingers could ever reach no matter the position. toji hissed, the back of his hand rubbing against the tent in his pants while his fingers worked on bullying your insides.
"oh.. oh fuck..," you breathed out, your head falling back as he began to thrust against his own hand. it moved his fingers in and out of your sopping heat, his thumb still rubbing at your swollen clit. toji's other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you up after beginning to see the muscles in your legs twitch. he pumped his fingers faster, his touch rough and urgent.
“cum for me, lil’ one," he demanded. "let me feel that tight pussy squeeze down on my fingers." you couldn't hold back anymore. with a broken cry, your pussy clamped down on his fingers, cumming hard while your juices flowed freely. toji growled in satisfaction, feeling the liquid splash against the front of his pants and drip down his wrist, continuing to help you through your orgasm until shaky legs vibrated against his waist. he almost felt bad, looking down at your fucked out expression from two measly fingers.
he lifted you up with ease onto the counter, spreading your legs. he feasted his eyes on your exposed, glistening pussy. with a satisfied grunt, he lowered his head, licking and sucking at your sensitive folds.you grasped his hair while he went down on you. his skilful tongue dipping into your hole before circling your clit again and again. it was a torturous pattern. you swore he could tell when you were about to cum, moving to lap at a different part of your cunt, or changing the tempo to throw your body off.
"toji, please.. s’too much," you begged, using the grip on his hair to push his face further into your pussy. any concerns for him being able to breathe were long gone out of your mind, instead now filled with his wet slurping and your moans. he chuckled, the vibrations sending pleasurable shivers through your core.
"what a needy lil’ thing," he teased before suddenly plunging two fingers back into your cunt while sucking your abused clit between his lips.a scream was cut off from the air being ripped from your lungs, your back arching off the counter as he ripped another powerful orgasm out of you. toji drank down your sweet cum, lapping continuously as your body convulsed uncontrollably.
finally, he stood. you gulped, suddenly taking it into account how much bigger he was than you. his eyes dark and hungry as he quickly shed his clothes, revealing the amount of muscle he still had. your eyes shamelessly drank his form in, landing to gaze at his painfully hard cock. there was a new wave of nerves that flooded through your entire being just taking in how but he was.
grabbing your ankles he didn’t give you much time to continue worrying. he pulled you to the edge of the counter, positioning himself at your entrance. with one swift thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside.
a cry was ripped from your lungs, eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling of him stretching you open. it felt like you were being split in half. he gave you a few moments to adjust before toji started to move, his hips snapping forward as he fucked you hard and fast. the sound of skin slapping together filled the kitchen, mixed with your moans and garbled praises and his deep gravely grunts and groans.
"take it baby," he grunted. "take all of me." lost in a haze of pleasure, your body overwhelmed by the sensation of being completely filled by this powerhouse of a man. you moved your hips to the best of your ability- meeting his thrusts halfway.
"that's it, fuck me back," toji encouraged, his eyes burning with desire. "wrap those pretty legs around me." you did as he instructed, locking your ankles together behind his back, pulling him even deeper. toji groaned, his pace becoming wilder, his thrusts hitting your gummy sweet spot over and over.
"fuck, 'm gonna cum," he grit out, his teeth clenched as he rammed into you one final time, spilling his seed deep inside your pussy. it didn’t take you long to follow soon after, crying out his name as another mind-blowing orgasm ripped through your body, your walls gripping his cock tightly. toji leaned forward, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, still embedded inside. heavy breathing filled the kitchen, along with the sound of labored breathing.
slowly, toji pulled out, his cum dripping from your battered pussy. he smirked down at you, eyes filled with satisfaction. "now that," he said, his voice hoarse, "is how it's done." you could only nod, not trusting your voice from how dry your throat felt. he helped you off the counter, holding you up around your waist with one arm while his free hand moved to slide your panties back in place and fix your skirt.
toji pulled his own pants back on, confused when he turned around to see you wobbling- trying to walk towards where megumi had laid your remaining stuff in the kitchen.
“take it easy doll, c’mere. you need to lay down for a second.” the older man chuckled to himself, moving to once again support you with an arm around your waist. you looked up at him confused when he steered you away from the couch and back towards his room.
“toji.. ‘m fine. really-“ you were cut off with a sharp ‘tsk’ sound. the grip on your waist tightening.
“don’t wanna hear it, just lay with me for a bit.” he helped you lay down in his bed, leaving you alone long enough to grab a bottle of water. when he returned, he shut the door behind him. toji made his way back towards you, forcing you to take a few sips from the bottle before putting it down on the nightstand.
with strong arms trapping you against a very broad chest, the smell of him surrounding you- you couldn’t help but eventually doze off into a quiet slumber. toji watched your sleeping figure, his heart pulling at just how peaceful you looked. he could see the bags under your eyes, noting you hadn’t been sleeping well these past few weeks. but now, you were resting. he told himself he’d continue to watch over, and take care of you, if you’d let him.
ask/requests: OPEN
#❥ ~ ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji smut#toji fushigro x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro smut#jjk smut
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Not Over the Papaya | OP81
⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader
Genre : Fluff Smau
A/N : I missed you all 🥺. Again I’m sorry this update took way too long~ Thank you for the people who wished me better (really, ily) . I’m devastated with the news about Logan 😭 poor boy just needed his confidence back I swear.
Face claim : Jennie Kim
Warnings : Cursing, Grammatical Errors
Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
< Previous | Part 8 | Next >
f1wags
f1wags Y/N in the paddock! Welcome back Queen 👑
user1 She’s finally here 😭 We missed you Y/N!!
user2 She’s literally glowing , Oscar’s so lucky!
user3 Are they dating? I thought she was with Lando??
user4 Girl were where you? A LOT has gone down 🙂↕️.
user5 Honey let me catch u up. Lando cheated on Y/N with her friend during the winter break. Lando then posted a breakup post stating that the breakup was on both sides and they parted on good terms which Y/N has denied (it was MESSY). Then Oscar and Lily was rumored to have split (they did, Oscar later posted a shady breakup post; Lily was allegedly cheating). Then Y/N and Oscar started hanging out (sometimes with Logan). + After Oscar’s win in Hungary — He was then spotted in America for Y/N’s show the day after. Then they were spotted several times together after and they are now allegedly dating (not yet confirmed).
user3 WHAT.
user4 MESSY RIGHT?!!
user3 Is Lando still with Y/N’s friend??
user5 She’s also in the paddock rn 🤡
user3 wtf?? the audacity??
user6 lando FUMBLED so bad. SO BAD.
user7 Literally not thinking straight. I swear Lando.
oscarpiastri 5 min
story replies
Y/N. I guess soft launches aren’t our thing , Ok understood 🙂↕️
oscarpiastri Its not launching if we aren’t officially a thing yet, dear 🫶
Y/N. Oh right!! were only friends babe 🥰
oscarpiastri best of friends, Luv 😘.
Y/N. Ur so annoying , I love you 🙄. Have fun w/ ur interviews
oscarpiastri Thanks dear, Love you more!
charles_leclerc is this a hard launch 👀
oscarpiastri I don’t know, is it??😇
charles_leclerc don’t be smart with me boy . I didnt raise you like this
oscarpiastri you didn’t raise me at all! you were too busy flirting with the dutch boi .
charles_leclerc I—
oscarpiastri you are silenced old man
danielricciardo oi seat stealer, please tell Y/N to answer my messages. She keeps inboxing my messages! I need my cowboy hats 😩
oscarpiastri i prefer to call myself a mental health saver. I guided you back to Red Bull 🤓☝️
danielricciardo And got me my contract money 🤑. Back to the topic! come on pls tell Y/N! she promised me a cowboy hat from florida. pls pls pls
oscarpiastri Its in our luggage, calm down.
danielricciardo Damn “OUR” luggage. I still can’t believe you pulled Y/N from him. Cheers to you mate
oscarpiastri boi you still hold grudges with Lando huh.
danielricciardo him and the entire team can burnn 😀. Im saying this again, mate… watch your back.
oscarpiastri I know danny, you’ve warned me hundreds of times.
landonorris You little shit. You really brought Y/N here. You have the fucking balls huh
oscarpiastri I did, I do . What’s it to you?
landonorris You’ll regret this Oscar.
oscarpiastri Try me.
landonorris I’ll get her back.
oscarpiastri lmao sure you do.
Y/N. 3 min
story replies
oscarpiastri oh hello self! nice seeing you here
Y/N. He’s cute right? Such a pookie
oscarpiastri I’ve seen better 🤷♂️
Y/N. Really?? I haven’t. He’s the cutest to me 🥰🥰🥰
oscarpiastri So i assume that we’re ok with posting each other then 🫣
Y/N. Hell yeah! I ain’t hiding you boi. Ur mine.
oscarpiastri Possessive… i like it
Y/N. oh you’re FREAKY.
Y/bf. And Oscar has made the public ig 🥳
Y/N. I assume u approve of Osc then
Y/bf. Out of everyone you’ve dated he’s the most decent
Y/N. Decent 😖
Y/bf. That’s a COMPLIMENT
danielricciardo OI Y/N! don’t ignore my messages!
danielricciardo MY HAT WOMAN! MY HAT
Y/N. OK CHILL! I have it you crazy aussie. Osc will give it to you tomorrow before FP1.
danielricciardo Thank you 😇.
*Incoming call from Norris
Pick up or Decline
Pick up
“Hello?”
“We need to talk. Now”
“I didn’t unblock your number so you could disrespect me”
“I’m sorry… Can we talk in person?”
landonorris 1 min
*messages are disabled
Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed
Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now
#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula 1 fic#mclaren#f1 fanfic#op81 smau#op81 fluff#op81 x you#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81#op81 fic#oscar piastri texts#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri au#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri social media au#ln4 texts#lando norris x reader#lando norris#f1 smau#formula 1 smau#Not Over the Papaya
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MHA Prompt
.
.
“Need something..?”
You hesitate hearing the exhaustion in his voice; maybe this was a mistake. It’s the middle of the night but there’s no one else to turn to, so you try not to grip the doorknob too tightly or fumble your words. “I’m sorry, I know it’s past lights out and you’re busy…u-um…” Aizawa picks up the conflict in your voice and fully turns towards you. Dragging his hand over his face to wake up, he gives you his undivided attention. “No it’s alright. What do you need?” His voice had softened but it’s difficult to hold his eye contact. "I…If-.."
"...?"
"..If it’s not asking too much; may I sit in here? I swear not to distract you. Everyone else is asleep and, I don’t want to be alone right now...please.." Aizawa studies your face, noting the drained complexion with raw and puffy eyes, and understands that this isn’t a simple request. “Of course. Come in.” You close the door behind you “thank you” then hurriedly find a spot on the floor against the wall and curl into your knees. Aizawa watched your movements but left you to your devices and turned back to his work. Occasionally he steals a glance but you stay true to your word and don’t make a sound or move an inch.
Thankfully, being in his presence helps how you hoped it would. Every breath you take smells like him and knowing he’s here makes you feel safe, like nothing can hurt you now. Hopefully you’ll calm down enough to go back to your room soon. Aizawa sets his pencil down though, and comes to offer you his hand. “The bed is far more comfortable than the floor. Fresh sheets I promise.” You lift your head for a moment considering his words but “I’m okay right here. I’m imposing enough as is..” He smiles turning away, “you could never impose” and grabs a box of tissues to give you “but holding in whatever is troubling you this much.,.I don’t like that.”
“…”
You accept the tissues and your tears finally break free. "I’m sorry" you try hiding it as he takes a seat beside you. "It’s okay. It’s safe to cry here." He wraps an arm around your shoulder and welcomes you to let it all out. You wanted to stop but “I don’t know what’s wrong with me…I-I don’t know why I’m so sad all the time-but, I’m empty. I feel this ache when I’m alone and more and more when I’m not…it’s starting to scare me; I don’t know how to cope anymore…that’s why I came here. I needed to run away somewhere…I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do..” Aizawa's heart grows heavy with every confession and he holds you tighter. "Always run to me-always. Never let this fear talk you out of that. Understand.?"
“You have so much to deal with; I don’t want to become a burden. But, I appreciate all of this. I feel better.” He sighs and presses a kiss to the top of your head. This would take one step at a time, so tonight was plenty for step one; he'll let it go for now. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“…Can I stay until you’re done working?”
“Of course, get some rest.”
As the night goes on the atmosphere settles. The steady rhythm of Aizawa’s pen scratching against paper and his soft sighs of concentration creates soothing background noise. When he looks up again you’re fast asleep. He smiles and is careful not to make a sound walking over and crouching down in front of you. Little did you know he finished his work quite some time ago and was hoping this would happen before he ran out of paper to scribble over. His finger traces lazy circles over your cheek, drying the last of your tears. He shifts your body to rest in his arms “I won’t lose you to such nasty thoughts..” and carries you to his bed, then tucks you in. It felt like sleeping in a cloud and you curl into his pillow. He chuckles, “Is it really that comfortable?” Aizawa sorts the work on his desk then lays down himself, and after such a long day falls asleep easily. Hopefully you'd seek him out again the next time this happened, but maybe skip the floor, his knees weren't what they were.
#my hero academia#mha#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha imagines#mha fanfic#mha comfort#mha fanfiction#mha headcanons#mha react#mha x poc!reader#mha x y/n#mha x you#boku no hero academia#bnha#shota aizawa#aizawa sensei#shouta aizawa#aizawa shouta#aizawa#aizawa comfort#aizawa fluff#aizawa shota#aizawa shota x reader#aizawa shota x y/n#aizawa x black!reader#aizawa x reader#aizawa x y/n#aizawa x you#bnha aizawa
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙do-over | MV1˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: max verstappen x fashion designer!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: social media au, "enemies" (exes) to lovers
warnings: i just be making shit up fr
summary: in which they meet again and rekindle their relationship much to the delight of their fans
a/n: tbh i got no idea how to do enemies to lovers so i went for like a past messy breakup nd rekindle of the relationship now they're older nd more mature or wtvr let me know what u think!!! this was a req but it was super duper vague so i jus pulled this together nd pls fr bare in mind tht im not a max verstappen fan by any stretch lol
request!!!: Enemies to lovers with Max please
fc: maggie lindemann
my masterlist
alternate ending
instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
liked by yourbff, yoursister, and 83,238 others
twitter ->
messages ->
instagram ->
yourusername
liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and 927,194 others
yourusername heard you need inspiration
view all 18,293 comments
yourbff my girl forever nd ever ⭐️
liked by yourusername
user1 new fan gained
user2 omg i rmmbr her from when she dated max & now im just rediscovering her she's sooo gorgeous wtaf
user3 i can't believe max fumbled her
user4 my competition for her hand jus tripled
user5 quadrupled more like
user6 max verstappen found dead
user7 cant wait for a new collection
yourusername posted a story
liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, and 318,928 others
ynupdates I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
yourusername i love u 🫀🫀
user8 u are fr the coolest girl in the world
yoursister so proud of you 🥹
yourusername stop it you'll make me emotional 😭
user9 you are so so loved
user10 nothing you could've said would put us off supporting u forever🤟
messages ->
instagram ->
maxverstappen1
liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 719,948 others
maxverstappen1 life lately ⏰
view all 15,283 comments
user11 Y/N IN THE LIKES I REPEAT Y/N IN THE LIKES
user12 no freaking way
user13 i need to know what's going on have they spoken since the podcast ?!!
user14 exes to lovers arc incoming🥹
user15 he's so cute
landonorris why is your comment section so full up of drama max
maxverstappen1 i didnt ask for this
user16 max is so tired of us LOL
user17 not sorry
user18 i love drama
user19 max acting dumb like he didnt post this to get her attention
ynupdates
liked by user17, user3, and 18,294 others
ynupdates y/n y/l/n spotted today outside a cafe with ex beau max verstappen, following the release of a podcast episode on which y/n discussed her feelings on how the relationship played out. the meet up has come after they were seen liking each other's instagram stories & posts, however the discussion they were having reportedly seemed heated and as though they were having a disagreement. rumours/theories of them rekindling their romance were rife but what is the consensus now? we are sending our love to y/n as always!
view all 6,183 comments
user20 omg what is happening
user21 im so surprised she even met with him
user22 he wants her back & she cant deny him bc every girl has a soft spot for their first love
user23 agree but tbh it's probs good tht they argued or wtvr coz she isnt giving in to him she's making sure he fights for her 🤷
user24 some of u guys are delulu af
user25 what i would give to be a fly on the wall in that convo
user26 i hope he's changed or at least fr lets her move on
yourusername
liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 798,373 others
yourusername never lonely 🖤
view all 6,183 comments
user27 omg first time we've seen y/n with her guitar in ages
user28 the guitar omg
yourbff best girl in the world
yourusername i love u 🫀🫀
yoursister hard at work or hardly working?
yourusername shut up you
danielricciardo you better not be drinking tequila without me!
yourbff we wouldn't dream of it
user29 omg daniel publicly being friends with y/n !!?
user30 something is changing here
user31 there's something in the air 🤔
yourusername posted a story
liked by yourbff, danielricciardo, and 88,294 others
danielricciardo hang tight
yourusername lol thanks??
user32 send locaysh 🤟🤟
user33 we miss u y/n
user34 omgggggg i cant wait for more designs from u
maxverstappen1 posted a story
liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and 213,293 others
yourbff MAX WHAT ARE YOU DOING
maxverstappen1 getting coffee what does it look like
yourbff i know you're not taking that to y/n
danielricciardo if y/bff/n msgs u ignore her
maxverstappen1 👍
user35 SOMETHING IS HAPPENING HERE
user36 is this for y/n
user37 this plus y/n's story .... the maths is mathing
user38 No freaking way
yourusername posted a story
liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, and 134,293 others
charles_leclerc im on the edge of my seat!!
yourusername 😭 hi charles
yourbff I KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING Y/N U GUYS ARE NOT SLICK
danielricciardo ignore y/bff/n
yourusername done & done
user39 im spinning around
user40 i've connected the dots
twitter ->
instagram ->
yourbff posted a story
liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 22,293 others
danielricciardo have you forgiven me yet
yourbff i'll forgive max before i forgive you
maxverstappen1 have you forgiven me?
yourbff what do you think max emilian
yourusername you are not mad at all
yourbff of course not. i always loved max
yourusername 😜
ynupdates posted a story
liked by user22, user8, and 84,283 others
user45 oh my god it's real
user46 NO WAY IS SHE BACK IN THE PADDOCK
user47 & she said she couldn't ever be just friends with her first love...
ynupdates NO YOU'RE RIGHT
user48 they are soulmates for real
user49 i can't believe all it took was a podcast episode
yourusername posted a story
liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 548,293 others
charles_leclerc i will say i am shocked but happy beyond words to have you back!
yourusername ❤️❤️ catch up soon!
danielricciardo she's back for goood
yourusername don't speak too soon
yourbff can i come
yourusername max said only if you forgive him in writing
yourbff 😑
user50 shameless 🥹🥹🥹
user51 YOU GOT THAT GLOW OF A NEW OLD RELATIONSHIP
ynupdates not you trying to pretend you aren't ecstatic
user52 i want whatever max verstappen has
ynupdates posted a story
liked by maxverstappen1, user44, and 128,103 others
user53 the lol
ynupdates trying to pretend i care about racing😕😕😕
user54 he's down bad for her always has been always will be
twitter ->
instagram ->
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 828,045 others
yourusername weekend off
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user55 they're just friends they're just friends they're just friends
user56 i dont believe it for a second
yourbff get back to work
yourusername im busy right now
yourbff oh i wonder what with
user57 max max max max
user58 she gets prettier everytime i see her
maxverstappen1 so glad to have you back on the paddock y/n ❤️
yourusername glad to be back !
user59 they r so stiff
user60 trying to trick us into thinking they arent in love
twitter ->
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yourusername all the good in my life
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user64 SHE LOOKS SOOO HAPPY
ynupdates her smile😭😭😭
yourbff the way you're glowing
liked by yourusername
maxverstappen1 i love you ❤️
yourusername i love u too 🥹🫶
user65 i'll never recover
user66 the new (old) f1 it couple
user67 best wag of all time
user68 cant wait to buy all of y/n's new collection
user69 literally same it looks soo cool
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 i won
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ynupdates omg she is so hot what the hell
maxverstappen1 you're telling me
user70 OH MY GODDD
user71 her in max's car oh myyyy
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maxverstappen1 ❤️
danielricciardo you're welcome everyone
yourbff you do not get credit for this
danielricciardo have you forgiven me yet
maxverstappen1 and me?
yourbff no never
yourusername tell the truth y/bff/n
yourbff ok fine i was never mad
THE END 🤍
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#smau#f1 smau#f1 x reader#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen#mv1#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#maddie's smau
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kinktober 2023 -> day 31
breeding kink - miya osamu x reader
word count: 1512
A/N: so this is it! thank you so much for everyone who stuck around for this kinktober event. 31 fics in 31 days, its the biggest project i have ever done. thank u for all the love and support ❤️
kinktober masterlist
What is stopping you?
Your mind repeated the question in your head every day, and it felt like your brain was yelling at you in frustration and confusion, wanting to know why exactly you were tongue tied in this situation. It made no sense to wait anymore. The time was ideal.
Truly, there couldn't be a better time to bring it up. You were happy with your job, Osamu’s business was flourishing; he had just opened another Onigiri Miya in Tokyo. He had a good staff now, an organized system on how to manage it all. He didn’t have to be the only person worrying for the business anymore, since he had hired experienced managers. It allowed him enough breathing room to come home early, cook a nice, hearty dinner for you both that you enjoyed while sprawled on the couch in front of the TV. Money wasn’t a worry anymore.
So really, what was stopping you from bringing up the topic of kids?
You seemed to have become lost in the same thoughts again because you only came to when Osamu nudged you, making you blink and tear your eyes away from the TV screen. He was looking at you questioningly, and you could see a hint of worry behind his dark eyes.
“What’s on yer mind, doll?”
You shook your head and smiled, shrugging a bit. “It’s no big deal ‘Samu. Just a project at work.”
He hummed a little, shoving more noodles into his mouth and sparing you little glances as he did so. You knew he didn’t believe you. Your husband knew you too well to fall for such an obvious lie. But you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out how to broach the topic that was itching in the back of your mind for the last few days.
What do I even say? Put a baby in me?
You swallowed down the little knot that formed in your throat at the thought. Fuck. Was this turning you on? You grit your teeth tight enough that it hurt your jaw, scolding the little voice in your head to not do anything stupid.
When has your brain and lack of filter ever listened to you, though?
The next night, when Osamu had you sprawled on his lap, your back against his front, two fingers buried knuckles deep inside you and having pulled an orgasm out of you already, you babbled out the thought that had been plaguing you for many, many days.
“‘Sa- Samu,” you whined, long and desperate, dragging out his name. “Need your cock. Need your cum. Please.”
Osamu groaned in reply, pulling out his drenched fingers from your core and laying you on the bed. You pulled your legs up on instinct, spreading them wide, knees brought up to your sides. Osamu’s responding moan was sinful.
“S-shit, baby,” he breathed, clumsy hands quickly discarding his shirt and sweatpants. “Ya want it that bad? So ready to take me?”
You nodded your head frantically, back arching when he finally sunk his big, throbbing cock into you. The slide was comfortable and easy, considering how long you had spent spread apart on his fingers. Osamu wasted no time in immediately picking up speed, knowing exactly what spots to hit that had you reduced to a weepy mess.
You fumbled around until you had grabbed Osamu’s hands, hooking both of them under your knees and applying pressure. Osamu stared at you in realization before he shifted a bit and used his weight to hold your legs apart. You wanted him to put you in a mating press.
“This what ya want, sweetheart?” His voice was so hoarse you felt like you could cum just at the sound of it. “Fuck, ya look so sexy. All spread out fer me.”
Osamu was big on dirty talk, you knew. He loved speaking during sex and he loved when you spoke during sex. Over the years, you two had tried any and every thing in the bedroom that you possibly could, and you had lost all shame when it came to voicing your desires. The filthier, the better actually. Osamu could easily cum if you talked him through it.
Pair that with your days-old ruminating thoughts, and everything spilled out of you like word vomit.
“‘Samu,” you gasped. “Fuck me hard and deep, please. Please. Need to- need to be filled up with your cum, daddy. Need it.”
Osamu’s thrusts sped up and he cursed under his breath. “You’ll get it, babygirl. You’ll get daddy’s cum. Every last drop.”
You nodded frantically, crying out at a particularly well aimed thrust. “Yes! I- Osamu!” You wailed when his thumb made contact with your clit. Your nails dug into his back as you scrambled to pull him close. “Gimme. ‘Samu, gimme.”
Osamu was moaning into the skin of your neck, your legs over his shoulders and your body bent in half. “What’s gotten into ya today, baby? So greedy.”
You wound a hand through his hair, feeling the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter. You were seconds away from an orgasm. You pulled his head up by the hair until he was looking into your eyes. Your tears-coated, weepy eyes.
“Get me pregnant, Osamu. I want your kids.”
You didn’t have the time or the mental coherence to look at his reaction, because your orgasm washed over you like a freight train. Osamu’s movements stuttered, as a result of your words or you reaching your peak, you didn’t know. All you could do was feel the waves of electricity wash over you as you tried to breathe through the overwhelming feeling.
It was only when Osamu slowed to a stop in you, still twitching and throbbing, that you opened your wet eyes. He was looking down at you with mouth slightly open in shock, breathing still labored from his previous exertion. His dark hair was messy, stuck to the sweat on his forehead. All was silent between you.
“Are you serious?” He breathed, trying to see through your post-orgasm face. You nodded slowly.
“Thought about it a lot.” You admitted, tightening your legs around his waist a bit. “I’m ready if you are.”
A few more seconds, before Osamu bit his bottom lip and groaned, eyes falling to half mast again. He breathed deep, shaking his head. The corner of his mouth twitched up a bit.
“Do ya know how long I’ve waited fer this?” His voice was husky. He pulled himself up and unwound your legs from his waist. Then he bent you in half again, before setting a fast, bruising, brutal pace.
You gasped and threw your head back at the sudden change, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm, jaw going slack. His cock pounded into you with all the ferocity he could summon, one of the roughest sessions you two had had for a while, burning through you like embers crawling under your skin.
“Thought ‘bout it so much.” He continued choking out words, not slowing in the slightest. “The thought of ya all fat an’ swollen with ma kids. Fuck. Yer gonna look radiant.”
You moaned with him, picturing your pregnant belly, glowing face. Picturing a little human that you will birth. A human that Osamu could potentially put in you now.
“Daddy,” you whined. “Need…. I need- please.”
“Need what, baby?” Osamu had a little smirk on his face. His skin was flushed and damp, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out his pupils. He looked feral.
“Need my load in ya? That it? Need ta take every last drop, yeah? Can’t risk wastin’ it.”
His hand came up, winding into your hair and tugging hard until you yelped.
“Take it, doll. Take it-”
His voice broke into a long moan as his hips stuttered and you felt warmth flood your insides, his bulging biceps trembling as he tried to hold his weight up through his orgasm. He was loud through it, coaxing you with rough words and even rougher fingers pinching your clit until you came one last time with a heaving cry, eyes rolling up into your head.
You had barely caught your breath when Osamu reached up to grip your face tightly with one hand, your cheeks squishing together. You stared at him with zoned out, misty eyes.
“Don’t ya dare waste a single drop.” He whispered so close that his lips brushed your puckered ones. “Keep it inside yer pussy like a grateful slut, ya hear me?”
You moaned in response, nodding weakly against his grip. He pulled out then and you clenched tightly, but you could feel it as a little bit trailed down your crack. Osamu hummed in disappointment, holding your legs open and watching as his cum leaked out.
“Poor baby. Couldn’t do it, could ya?” You felt him lean forward and brush a surprisingly soft kiss below your ear.
“I guess I’ll just have ta keep goin’ until I know yer pregnant fer sure.”
Taglist:
@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy y @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
#miya osamu#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu x you#miya osamu x y/n#miya osamu smut#osamu smut#haikyuu smut#hq smut#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#miya osamu imagine#miya osamu fanfiction#miya osamu fic#haikyuu fic#hq fic#hq imagine#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu fanfiction
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Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.3)
W/C: 3.1k #SFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, ABO elements, mentions of death, yuuji has entered the chat, gojo has entered the chat, idky this got sad tho lol
A/N: This bit made me very sad please suffer thank you!!! Also the main story will be wrapping soon (I think next part will be the last part?) and then after that, it'll probably be drabbles! There might be a 'sequel' that touches on the culling games tho because b r u h they've got some down time during that arc so hfhfhfhfhghghf imagine what I could do--
tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah
A strict no-contact order had been placed on Yuuji, and, subsequently, Sukuna. Neither were to come into contact with you while you recovered, and neither were to be alone with you considering the control-slip incident.
Still, the curse had been rampant in the young man’s mind, constantly pacing back and forth just behind his consciousness, waiting patiently as a predator should for Yuuji's guard to go down. Granted, even if Yuuji was caught by surprise, it'd still be near impossible to overtake the peppy twenty year-old. Sukuna didn't have an explanation, but it was what it was.
He would have gladly seized control now, when you'd somehow managed to slip away from your recovery prison and get comfortable in Itadori Yuuji's bed. Sukuna would have slaughtered everyone at the academy for a second to touch you again, to breathe you in.
But the brat finally realized something was off, and woke to find your head tucked under his chin, his arms slung across your waist. Your breath fanned across his collarbone, tickling the sorcerer's touch-starved skin and feeding the fire burning in his cheeks–Sukuna, though, didn’t seem pleased his host was the one touching you. Yuuji counted that as a victory.
Suck it, dickhead.
Hm? A stranger’s voice rippled instead of the king's.
Yuuji jolted, his blood growing cold for a second before recognizing that voice–it came from that tidal wave of memories. But it didn't tick him off the way Sukuna's did. It was…nice.
Uh…you can hear me? Yuuji wondered. He tried to envision his voice as loud and clear as possible to help it reach you.
Your brows twitched in your daze. Yes, I can hear you. There's no need to shout.
Oh. Sorry. Uh, how'd you get in here?
The door.
Oh. Cool. Yuuji shifted a little. I'm not really supposed to, y'know, make contact with you or–
But you're warm. Your nails lightly dragged across his back, leaving trails of tingly pinpricks dancing across his skin. Yuuji swallowed a moan. God, why did the littlest touches feel so nice?
Y-Yeah? My grandpa used to say I ran hot. Like a furnace or somethin’.
I agree. You burn like firewood. And you smell warm. Like cedar and honey. You stretched languidly, and the younger stayed put, not strong enough to pull away from your praise and touch. Your teasing fingers raked through his hair daintily, and this time Yuuji did moan. Just the slightest bit before he snapped his mouth shut and bit his lip.
You leave me wondering how you taste.
“What?” Yuuji squawked. Your eyes lazily opened a crack, seemingly put off by the sudden break in room silence. It gave the sorcerer an opportunity to admire the golden glints of divinity hidden in the hue of your iris.
But he found fear in that moment, too. Yuuji knew what most didn't–the curse sealed inside of him thought you to be his equal. You were the only beast Sukuna would bow before, the only one whose attention he craved and sought in his reign.
You were, in a way, a king yourself.
Do you think I'll eat you, Yuuji?
“I–uh–you–well–” Yuuji fumbled exceptionally, choking on flustered words. “I just--Sukuna ate people, right? So, uh. Maybe you did too?”
You looked him over for a moment. Your gaze traced the cute curve of the younger's nose, the petite fangs worrying at his bottom lip, the caramel swirl of his eyes. He looked so much like Sukuna. It made you wonder.
I've eaten humans, yes, You agreed, nonchalant. Do you want me to eat you?
“Eat me?” Yuuji deadpanned, unsure if he should feel just bothered or hot and bothered. “I, well–”
No. Sukuna’s voice cut like ice through Yuuji’s mind. For a second, it scared him. It reminded Yuuji of what exactly Sukuna was. What he’d do.
So what would you do?
“Hey,” Yuuji started, suddenly calm, serious. “Why’re you on Sukuna’s side? You don’t seem like a bad person.”
You took a deep second to think before sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest. Your tails curled weakly around your clothless frame, swallowing up any spot a young man’s curious gaze might wander in the secrecy of night. Maybe you’d been in this situation before.
“‘Good.’ ‘Bad.’ We all have different definitions.” Your voice rattled and scraped out your tired throat, yet you didn’t look perturbed in the slightest. “I do what pleases me: garden, sew, eat. Sometimes, I may cause harm in the process. I care sometimes, and I don’t others. Does it make me evil to choose what I care about?”
Yuuji’s head started to ache. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up with your fancy, archaic way of speaking, but he was sure as hell gonna try.
The younger sat up, too, and ruffled up his hair. “I mean. Don’t you wanna try to, y’know, not hurt people? Not cause harm, ‘n stuff?”
“Is fire wicked? Or does it simply exist?” You posed. “In the control of man, it is sacred. It cooks food, illuminates the dark, cloaks you with warmth. Yet it burns down trees. Swallows homes. Devours crops. Kills.”
You looked at Yuuji, rose-wrapped eyes resentful of something the sorcerer could not know. “Man regards fire as a blessing when controlled, yet it is a curse when it runs free with nature–existence, the black and white of the world, is in the eye of the beholder.”
Yuuji didn’t like how much that made sense to him. Objectively, Sukuna was bad. He killed. He murdered for fun. He ate people–
Yet your words, your pretty way of speaking and philosophies gave Yuuji pause. It didn’t click, despite igniting grim sparks in the cogs hidden far behind his eyes. He already made his mind up about good and evil, yes and no, white and black, and yet–
You poked him in the forehead, between his eyes, and Yuuji blinked.
“It’s merely food for thought, Yuuji.” Why did you know his name again? “Don’t burden yourself with making decisions or anything of the sort. I suppose my answer was long-winded in regards to your question.”
“Yeah, kinda,” he laughed, rubbing his cheek. “But, uh…it helped, I guess.” Yuuji pulled your hand down from poking him. “You don’t think Sukuna’s bad,” he concluded.
“I think he was a force of nature.” Your head tilted. Your eyes softened. “A monster to some, a god to others.”
“‘N to you?”
Your eyes caught the morning light, iris reflecting with waking embers.
“He was everything.”
Gojo thought you were pretty in the same way Getou was pretty; you were handsome with fine features, you radiated with odd power, and you spoke with unmatched poise and purpose it almost made the man’s ego swoon.
But you looked tired as Getou had, too. Skin void of blushing warmth, eyes distant and hazy, dark circles pulling your gaze away from him. He didn't like it. It made him remember that cold hand ripping his heart to pieces.
“Look who’s awake!” Gojo cheered as he sauntered toward you, hands in his pockets and a smile adorning his face. “Hungry? I could getcha some–”
“You were listening, were you not?” You wondered, running your bony fingers through matted fur systematically. Your split nails picked and clawed through tangles and knots thoroughly, as though it’d make a difference in your beat-up appearance.
Gojo tilted his head before settling down in the seat beside your bed. “Hm? Me? Listening? To–”
“Yuuji and I.”
“Ah! You mean the night you snuck out to do some naughty, naughty things with my student?”
You deadpanned fiercely, looking at him the way someone else used to. “Ha. Hm. Surely you jest.”
Gojo waggled his brows as much as he could, hoping they’d peek out over the top of his blindfold. “Hah, you think I don’t know what my sweet, precious Yuuji does behind closed doors? I know everything! I’m–”
“You misunderstand,” you cut him off, looking more and more concerned with each passing second. “You are a teacher? Why? How? This does not seem ethical.”
Gojo died. Rather, his pride did. Which was essentially his lifeforce.
“What are you–okay, I’m just gonna chalk it up to you being cranky after getting woken up, alright? I’ll give you a pass. Just once!” Gojo nodded as a benevolent creature should. “You should thank me.”
“I’d rather not.” You sighed and returned to your grooming. “If you wish to interrogate me, I require food first. Tofu, specifically”
Gojo laughed. “Man, you are one high-maintenance god. Alright, you want normie tofu, or agedashi tofu?”
You blinked and looked at him, curious.
“Agedashi tofu?”
You really liked agedashi tofu. You liked the little sauce it came with, you liked the other random shit Gojo bought to try and win over your compliance–well, honestly, he also just wanted an excuse to shower someone with the food and snacks he liked. It’d been a long time since he’d had the privilege to.
“So,” Gojo said as he popped the marble into the ramune bottle for you and handed it over, “About you and Sukuna.”
“Mhm?” Your eyes glittered in fascination as you took the drink and examined it from all angles, carefully tilting it here and there to watch the blue bubbles rise to the top as the glass ball rolled and spun in its tiny prison.
Gojo almost lost his train of thought watching you, but he reigned it in quickly.
“Seems like you were close.” Were was important. You'd referred to the menace in past tense when speaking with Yuuji–clearly, you didn't realize the curse resided within the young sorcerer. Best to keep it that way.
You pursed your lips in thought for a moment.
“I suppose. Why?”
“I'm just nosy!”
“I know that already. But there exists intelligence behind your annoying behaviour.” Your gaze slid to him, staring through the veil of fabric and straight into his eyes. “You're a monster like he was, aren't you?”
“Hah?! Rude!” Gojo whined, but regained composure just as fast. “Seems your intuition is pretty good, huh?”
“It's simply an understanding of nature.”
“Is that what pulled you to him? His nature?”
“No. I was given to him. As a gift. By a clan of sorcerers.”
“Huh. A gift.”
“Yes. The harvest festival required as much. He was revered as a godly creature. Something to be feared.”
“And so were you,” Gojo guessed, and you frowned and looked away, instead picking through the treats and snacks brought to you.
“The people saw us very differently.”
Sukuna didn't walk through the city below often–not until you decided you liked it down there.
Finding out that you walked through those streets alone sent a trill of something unpleasant up Sukuna's spine; knowing you were alone, vulnerable and under the eyes of so many that so often cursed Sukuna and wished him dead made him…uneasy, maybe. You could handle yourself. Sukuna simply couldn't handle the disrespect.
But things weren’t as he assumed.
You walked through town, and the people revered you as they would Amaterasu incarnate. Most didn't address you, but all saw and accepted your presence with grace and kindness, nodding or flickering small smiles as you passed by with the king trailing behind.
Sukuna could understand; you'd become something astoundingly breathtaking. Lush, full tails dipped and swayed as you walked with the poised elegance of royalty, the feeling only enhanced by the careful, intricate way you presented yourself in your attire. Sukuna knew you felt beautiful. You were beautiful.
“It's (Name!)” A child cried, and Sukuna fought the urge to punt the little shit into the restaurant across the road when the tiny human grabbed at your clothes.
But you smiled. You actually smiled when you patted the girl on the head and said your sweet hellos before ushering her along after her mother. The corners of your eyes crinkled for once, showing that, yes, you'd aged and felt joy and become so perfect because of it. And when you cooed sweet farewells to passing little ones, your fangs flickered against the colour of your lips, just for a second.
Your gilded gaze caught his carmine stare, and you tilted your head.
“Sukuna.” You held your hand out to him, and he took it. He had no choice. He was only human, and you were God. Walking through a city of mortals.
He let you lead on, wandering to the shops where you bought thread and fabric for your stupid little projects with money he didn't even know you had. You could have just taken everything you wanted, especially with the king stood right by your side, but you eased the shopkeeper's nerves with kind words and ample pay.
Sukuna all but picked you up and launched you both back home the second you were done meandering. He had a job to do; he had to fully commit to siring a runt.
Now, Gojo didn't need to know all that, but it didn't stop your mind from wandering to that night; it was the first time he looked at you like that. It was the first time he decided against lording his power over you, instead holding you close and taking things slow. You missed it. You yearned for the night he stopped seeing you as a toy and saw you as you. The night he finally learned your name.
“They viewed me as something divine,” you continued, digging out of the warmth of memories. “Perhaps because I walked alongside someone like him.”
“Well, only gods can walk through a volcano and come out unscathed, no?” Gojo smiled a bit as you looked away, embarrassed.
“That's a poor analogy.”
“Eh?”
“How would one walk through a volcano? None would even think to get close enough to do so.”
“W-Wait–”
“You would be underground, would you not? With limbs melted, oneself ablaze? And one would not walk but wade through lava.”
“It's just a metaphor!” Gojo wailed.
“A poor one.” And you continued to pick through snacks, unbothered that you'd just destroyed the strongest man alive as you munched on cheese-flavoured rice puffs.
Gojo laughed, though. “I can see why he liked you. Supports the theory he's not the one who put you in the coffin.”
“It wasn't him,” you snapped. Your ears flattened against your skull as you shrunk in on yourself. “At least…not directly.”
Oh? Gojo leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he laced his fingers together.
“Then who was it? What happened?”
“I don't fully understand it myself,” you confessed. Your voice was a whisper, cold and lonely like a far North winter.
“Maybe I can help.”
You looked to him and back down again.
“There was a man. A sorcerer. I don't know his name–I never cared to learn it. He was odd.” You tore up little bits of hi-chew wrappers as you spoke. “He asked me if I would sacrifice myself for Sukuna.”
“And?” Gojo prodded.
“I would not,” you said. “Sukuna would never need my sacrifice, he'd never need my aid. He was the strongest.” A light frown tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That creature thought otherwise. He mentioned something about additional wombs, but I don't know what that means.”
Fuck. Gojo nodded politely. “Gotcha, gotcha. What'd this guy look like? You remember?”
“Unremarkable, save for the odd sutures across his forehead.”
“Oh? Interesting. Alright, last question, my cute little kitsune–”
“(Name),” you cut in. “Address me as (Name).”
Gojo sparkled. “Waaah, I think our relationship just leveled up to A-tier! One more level and I can romance–”
“Please do not make me hurt you.”
The white witch whined and deflated against his chair. “Boooring.”
You huffed and flicked your ear. “Ask your question, goblin.”
Gojo took a breath before he spoke.
“Are you with child right now?”
The world changed suddenly. Seal papers coating the walls drowned in bones and flowers as the pungent sweetness of orchids and decay curled around Gojo. Around you, a cage began to rise, jutting out from the earth and encircling you like thousands of rigid arms holding you in an embrace. And your eyes–they shone with abhorrent divinity, outshining even the nine, pristine tails breathing with blackened fire.
But there was screaming. Two voices intertwined. Little and distant, warped and outraged at–at something. Maybe Gojo? Maybe his accusations, his questions?
Just when the sorcerer was about to act, your clasped a hand over your stomach, and you whispered with the thrum of a thousand voices:
“Be still.”
It all moved slowly, then. The phenomenon–the apparent domain expansion–reversed, sinking back into the floors and walls with the soft sound of chittering and cooing taking the place of wicked screeches. You, too, cooed back to the twin voices, placating them with maternal ease.
Your divinity faded with the last shreds of the illusion. Now, your colours faded further, painting you in desaturated tones of exhaustion and worry. Gojo hated that palette. It'd been used too many times on too many he doted on. God was stupid like that, creating such sad, worrisome colours.
The sorcerer took a deep breath in the silence of the room. He didn't know what to say, or how to say it. He was never good at this kind of thing. His other half was much better at this.
But he had to try. The look on your face told him he had to try.
What would he have done?
Gojo’s hand reached out as he leaned forward, and he caught your scarred, bony hand in his own. You didn’t pull away, you didn't fight him, you instead curled your fingers around his and held your breath while your gaze became unseeing, your heart ceased beating just as your breathing had. For a moment, you died.
“I'm sorry,” Gojo whispered. And you nodded. Somehow, he knew it meant, ‘me too.’
It was then, touching you, that he could feel the negative energy thrumming beneath a shell of divinity. Two different un-lives coiled inside of you, filled with bitter hate for man and undying love for their mother. For you. It wasn't unlike the bond shared between Yuuta and Rika, but this was not as simple.
“Your ilk did not approve of Sukuna siring children,” you murmured. Your grip on his hand turned poisonous. “If you try to take them from me–”
“What'll you do?” He asked, knowing they'd never be born.
“--I will turn everything to ash. Set fire to the skies. Just as I have once already.”
“Good.” Gojo smiled. “You'd be a good mother.”
“I hope I one day can be.”
The masked menaced nodded again as he idly soothed his thumb across your knuckles. “Never say never, yenno? We'll figure something out for you. If you can do something to help the school–”
“I can give gifts. Once I have the energy.” You didn't sound like you did. Gojo wasn't sure if you ever would.
“Yeah? Like what?” He asked anyway.
You looked at him, weak and defeated, yet still clinging to life.
“My divine favour.”
#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x male reader#sukuna x m!reader#sukuna x you#jjk x you#male reader insert#male reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen reader insert#jujutsu kaisen x male reader#jujutsu kaisen x you
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The road to rejection
SYNOPSIS: Three miles, a pocket full of poems, and one stubborn poet knocking on the same door, hoping that no might eventually rhyme with yes. PAIRINGS: poet!jungwon x hard to get!reader GENRE: fluff just fluff, angst (if u squint), literally hopeless romantic vibes also lowk loser!jw i lovv A/N: inspired by henry wadsworth longfellow’s story with his wife, it was too sweet to not make jw a lovesick puppy. anws i highly suggest u guys read about his life lol
It started with a wrong turn.
Jungwon had been walking home from his poetry class, his head full of verses and not enough sense to look up from his notebook. The ink on the page was still wet when he crashed straight into you- books flying, curses slipping, and a coffee cup spilling down the front of your perfectly pressed blazer.
"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me" you hissed, stepping back as the dark stain spread across your perfectly pressed blazer, the smell of cheap espresso filling the air like a bad punchline to a joke you didn’t find funny.
Jungwon’s mouth fell open, eyes darting between the puddle on the pavement and the damage on your clothes. His heart stuttered, embarrassment rising faster than the heat in his face. He fumbled with clumsy hands, patting down his pockets for something..maybe a napkin, an apology, or even a way to reverse time. Nothing.
“Some tragedies are best written in stains” he blurted out before his brain caught up with his mouth. The words hung awkwardly between you as his eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to erase them from existence.
Your brows shot up, and your lips curled with scorn. “What?”
When he dared to look again, his gaze landed on your face, memorizing every curve and crease, the sharp arch of your brow, the twist of your lips as you exhaled in disbelief. Heat prickled the back of his neck, and his heart raced as if his own words had betrayed him.
You wiped at your ruined blazer with a resigned sigh, shaking your head as if dealing with a hopeless case. "Then I hope you’re a better poet than a pedestrian" you snapped, brushing past him with quick, purposeful steps.
He turned to watch you walk away, the words lingering like a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. The sound of your voice echoed in his mind, sharp and unforgettable
The next morning, a poem sat crumpled in his hand as he knocked on the door he’d seen you vanish behind.
And so began his journey walking three miles, one heart, endless rejection, and a muse who never made it easy.
—---------------------------------------------------------------
For weeks, Jungwon walked.
Three miles from his dormitory to your corner of the city, each step a steady rhythm against rain-soaked pavements and autumn leaves that crunched beneath his worn sneakers. The crisp evening air carried the familiar scent of jasmine from your mother’s garden, a fragrance that marked the final stretch of his journey, a pilgrimage guided by longing and stubborn hope.
He knew you would not answer. He knew you would not say yes.
Yet he knocked.
Every time, without fail, you opened the door. Your brow lifted in amused curiosity, and a slow, knowing smile tugged at your lips. You stood there, a picture of untouchable grace framed by the golden glow of the porch light, looking as if you belonged to a world far beyond his reach.
“Still here, Poet?”
“Still here.”
The ritual remained unchanged. He asked if he could walk with you to the market, along the riverside, or anywhere you might let him follow. And, as always, you refused, laughter slipping from your mouth like soft, mocking music, as though he were nothing more than a foolish boy chasing impossible dreams.
“Try again tomorrow, Jungwon. Maybe I’ll say yes when the moon turns green.”
—-----------------------------------------------------
His friends called him mad.
“She’s never going to say yes” Sunghoon sighed, his voice heavy with the kind of exasperated sympathy reserved for fools in love. He slung an arm over Jungwon’s shoulder as they trudged back from your house yet again, the scent of jasmine still lingering faintly on Jungwon’s clothes, as if the very air mocked his persistence.
Jungwon’s gaze remained fixed on the ground ahead, eyes burning with quiet determination as he stepped over fallen leaves and cracked pavement. “Some flowers bloom only in the wild” he muttered, the words low and resolute, as if willing them into a truth he alone believed.
Sunoo, walking just behind them, let out a sharp laugh that bounced between the streetlights. “You’re writing poetry for a wall, my friend” he said, shaking his head, his grin filled with amusement and pity. “She doesn’t even read it. What’s the point?”
Jungwon’s lips curled into a small, stubborn smile. His fingers tightened around the frayed edges of a folded poem resting in his pocket, ink smudged from too many readings, too many dreams scribbled into desperate verses.
“Then I’ll carve it into stone if I must” he whispered, as if confessing a secret only his heart could hear. His voice was soft, but his resolve was unshakable, each word heavy with the weight of devotion that no rejection could crush.
—-----------------------------------------------------
The next day, he walked again.
Three miles stretched out before him, step by aching step, each one an echo of his unshakable devotion. The autumn wind bit at his cheeks and tangled in his dark hair, but he didn’t slow. His feet knew the path as intimately as the lines of his own hands, worn smooth by repetition, driven forward by a longing that lived too deep to name.
In his pocket, a new poem lay folded and creased, the edges softened from the restless grip of his fingers. Ink smudged the corners where he had touched it too many times, tracing words meant for you alone. His heart was a raw, beating thing as he approached your door once more, a fragile offering wrapped in stubborn hope.
When the door opened, it wasn’t the jasmine-scented air or the golden light that stole his breath. It was the sight of you, effortless and unreachable, with eyes that seemed to dance between amusement and something he could never quite catch.
Jungwon drew in a slow breath, his chest tightening as he met your gaze. He spoke before you could beat him to it. “I know you’ll say no.”
You leaned against the frame, crossing your arms as if this were all a game you had already won. “Then why do you keep coming?”
For a moment, silence hung between you, taut and heavy. His eyes held yours without flinching, and in that stillness, the weight of his soul stood bare- raw, unguarded, and fierce with a feeling too vast to contain.
“Because you’re the only answer I want.” His voice was steady, low, and sure, each word cutting like the edge of a blade. “And if I have to write a thousand verses, take a thousand steps just to hear one yes, I will.”
The wind stirred the space between you, cold against his skin, but he felt nothing except the pounding in his chest. His truth had been spoken, a prayer and a promise laid at your feet.
—-----------------------------------------------------
That night, you sat by the window, the dim light of the moon casting long shadows across the room. The stillness of the evening wrapped around you like a quiet secret, and yet, your thoughts raced, unsettled and restless. A strange, unfamiliar warmth had settled in your chest, a warmth that felt like it didn’t belong to you, something uninvited, a quiet stirring that wouldn’t be ignored.
You thought of him. The boy with ink-stained fingers and weary shoes, whose every step seemed to carry the weight of his unspoken feelings. His face, flushed with both embarrassment and determination, came to mind, the way he held himself, always so sure of his purpose, even when you shut the door in his face. You thought of his poems, the ones left unread on your doorstep, crumpled by the cruel wind but still clinging to the faint hope that you might one day read them, might one day understand. You had ignored them, tossed them aside with the same coldness you had shown him, but now, they lingered in your thoughts like the trace of an unanswered question.
His words echoed in your mind, cutting through the silence like a quiet thunder. "Because you're the only answer I want."
You bit your lip, looking out at the darkened streets. The thought of him, the persistence, the belief that something in you was worth the fight, made the warmth inside you grow, unfamiliar but undeniable. What would it feel like to stop turning him away? What would it be like to open the door, to let him in, to finally answer him in a way he hadn’t expected?
For the first time, you wondered if you were the one who had been running all along.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Jungwon went away, seeking peace of mind and space for his scholarly pursuits. The quiet of distant places was a balm to his restless soul, a necessary separation from the world he had tried so hard to win. His letters, once frequent, became infrequent, each one carrying the weight of his thoughts, his poetry, and his quiet heartache. In the last one he wrote to you, he poured his heart onto the paper, the words raw and unguarded, as if he knew this would be the last time he would try to reach you this way.
The letter lay unopened for days, then weeks, and finally, months. You never meant to ignore it, but life had a way of slipping by. The rejection had made it easier to push him aside, to lock away the words that might force you to confront something you weren’t ready to face.
But one evening, after so much time had passed, you finally sat down and read it.
"I leave, not because I want to, but because I need to. I need to find my own way, not as the boy who walked miles to see you, but as someone who can stand on his own, who can breathe without the weight of unrequited love on his chest.
I will never regret these steps, these words, or the way I believed in something that, in the end, was only meant for me.
But perhaps, in time, you will come to understand that my poetry was never about you. It was about me. And even if you never say yes, I will still be the poet who writes, who walks, who lives.
I hope one day, when the moon turns green, you will find yourself ready to say what I long to hear. Until then, I’ll be walking my own path, where I can finally stop chasing after something that can never be mine."
You read those words, and for the first time, you understood. The sting of his absence, the weight of what he had carried all along, settled deep in your chest. You had been too afraid to open your heart, to let him in, and now it was too late. The quiet, stubborn boy had walked away, not in defeat, but in hope for something he had never been able to find with you.
But now, with the words in front of you, you wondered if it was truly the end.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Seven years.
Seven whole years had passed, but the weight of those years felt more like a single breath than the stretch of time they represented. Jungwon had left, chasing peace, running from the ache that had clung to him for too long. In his absence, life had moved on, his friends had changed, she had changed- but he remained tethered to a past that refused to loosen its grip.
When Sunghoon had called for a reunion, Jungwon had agreed without much thought. It wasn’t so much about reconnecting with old friends as it was a quiet test for himself. How much had changed? Had those seven years reshaped him, or had they only deepened the parts of him he’d tried to forget? He hadn’t expected her to be there, not really. But when the door opened and he saw her standing in the room, everything stopped.
It was her- the same face, but sharper, a little more guarded, like she had learned how to protect herself from whatever weight the world had put on her. The smile she gave him was thin, more of a polite gesture than anything else, and it didn’t reach her eyes. For a moment, he was paralyzed by the recognition of everything he had left behind, everything he had lost.
"Jungwon" she said, her voice tentative, as though unsure whether they were still familiar to each other.
He didn’t know what to say. He was supposed to have words for this moment, but all that came out was a soft, “Hey”
Her gaze flickered over him, and he felt the tension coil between them. There were no pleasantries, no casual laughter. Only silence that seemed too loud for everything they had once shared.
"I didn’t expect you to be here" she said, and there was something fragile in her tone, something he hadn’t expected.
Jungwon managed a wry smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his heart. “I could say the same thing.”
The air thickened between them. The years felt impossibly long, but somehow, the moment felt like they were standing in the same place they had been seven years ago. The gap between them wasn’t just time; it was everything they hadn’t said, everything that had been left undone.
“You’ve changed” she said, her voice careful, almost as if she were trying to figure out if he was still the person she remembered.
Jungwon looked at her and shrugged, the faintest surprise pulling at his features. “Yeah, I guess I have. But I think you’ve changed too.”
There was a pause, a beat where neither of them knew what to say, but both of them felt the weight of everything that hadn’t been spoken over the years. Jungwon had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times, running through apologies and explanations, but now that he stood before her, those words felt foreign, as if they had been left behind in the past where they belonged.
“I never meant to hurt you-” he blurted out, the words slipping from him before he could stop them. “I thought... leaving would be the only way to find peace, but it wasn’t. It didn’t fix anything.”
Her gaze softened for a moment, and for the briefest instant, it felt like she was seeing him again, like the years hadn’t erased everything they once had. Jungwon’s heart twisted. Maybe it was too late, maybe the distance was too wide to cross, but he couldn’t help the flicker of hope that burned quietly in his chest.
“Maybe we’ve been walking in circles all this time” he muttered, almost to himself. “Maybe this is where we’re supposed to be.”
She didn’t answer immediately. She just stood there, looking at him like she was weighing the possibility of what he had said. Her lips quirked, the faintest smile touching the corners of her mouth, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was a smile full of questions, of hesitation, as if she wasn’t sure if they could move forward, or if they even should.
“Maybe” she whispered, barely audible. The word lingered between them, suspended in the air like a promise that could either be broken or fulfilled.
Jungwon stood there, a quiet storm brewing inside him. He couldn’t tell if it was a sign of hope or just the end of something that had never really started. But as they stood there, inches apart and yet a lifetime away, there was something in the silence, something fragile but undeniably real that told him maybe, just maybe, this was worth fighting for.
—-----------------------------------------------------
The soft murmur of the café wrapped around them like a blanket, a comfortable hum that masked the quiet tension between them. The table was small, just a few inches separating them, but it felt like a world apart, the kind of distance that could either keep them apart forever or draw them closer. Neither of them could tell which.
She stirred her coffee, her fingers delicate around the spoon, her movements slow as if she was trying to draw out the moment. Jungwon watched her, his eyes tracing the curve of her fingers, the way she absentmindedly traced the rim of her cup. It felt so familiar, so heartbreakingly normal. Yet, everything about this moment was different, charged with something neither of them was willing to name.
"So, you still write?" she asked, her voice quiet, but there was a softness in it that hadn’t been there the last time they spoke, a gentleness that made his heart skip, just a little.
Jungwon nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips. "I do. Sometimes. Though, I think my poems are a little less hopeful than they used to be."
She met his eyes then, her gaze steady but searching. "What do they say now?"
"Mostly about missing things I didn’t even know I wanted," he said with a half-laugh, the words escaping before he could stop them. His fingers tightened around his cup, the weight of the admission heavier than he expected.
Her lips parted, and for a moment, he thought she might say something, maybe something sharp or maybe something sweet. Instead, she simply nodded, her gaze flickering away to something outside the window. "I guess we’re all writing those kinds of poems now" she murmured.
Jungwon’s heart ached, but he couldn’t look away. "I never stopped thinking about you" he said, the words slipping out before he had a chance to think about them.
Her eyes snapped back to him, wide and unreadable, but there was something softer in them, something more open than before. The way she held his gaze, the way she didn’t look away felt like everything had led to this one moment, the space between them shifting, the distance slowly closing.
"I thought you were gone for good" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought maybe I was better off without you."
Jungwon’s chest tightened at the honesty in her words. He leaned in slightly, his hands clasped on the table, feeling the heat of her presence like it was burning through him. "I thought the same. But I guess some things are harder to forget than others."
There was a long silence after that, a silence that felt thick with everything they had left unsaid, everything they hadn’t been able to say in all the years that had passed. She looked down at her cup, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and for a moment, Jungwon wondered if it was because she was remembering something, too.
When she finally spoke again, her voice was light, but there was a certain warmth to it that made his heart beat faster. "You know, you always did have a way with words."
He smirked, the familiar teasing glint in his eyes. "I think you liked it better when I was just a poet."
Her gaze softened, and she let out a soft laugh, the kind of laugh that only came from long, shared memories. "Maybe... But now? I think I like it better when you’re just here."
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the words hanging between them like the unfinished lines of a poem, both beautiful and unresolved. Jungwon couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way, like something was on the edge of being real, but still so fragile that it could slip away at any moment.
When she stood up to leave, Jungwon didn’t move, not right away. There was something in the way she smiled at him that made his chest tighten. She seemed like she might say something more, but instead, she simply glanced at him with that same half-smile he remembered so well.
"I’ll see you again, right?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask.
He nodded, his heart in his throat, and smiled. "Yeah, I think you will."
She turned to walk away, her footsteps soft against the floor, and for a moment, Jungwon didn’t move, his gaze lingering on her retreating figure. He could feel the pull between them, the gravity of everything they had yet to say. But as he stood and made his way to the door, he knew one thing for certain:
Maybe they weren’t together yet, maybe they weren’t even sure what they were. But somewhere in that café, in that unspoken moment, there was something real between them, something neither of them was ready to walk away from.
And for the first time in years, Jungwon allowed himself to believe that they were walking toward something worth waiting for.
#enhypen angst#enhypen imagines#enhypen au#enhypen fluff#jungwon fluff#jungwon angst#jungwon scenarios#jungwon x reader#enhypen jungwon#enhypen fic
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lagunas | carlos sainz x latina! reader
summary; fans finally the dots between y/n’s latest single and carlos’ strange caption ( similar plot to like a damn sociopath!)
fc; karol g MI REINA
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1
notes; requested ! used lagunas by peso pluma y jasiel núñez! but pretend it’s a girl / karol g who sings it lolllll, but i hope carlos has a fast n easy recovery!!
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
liked by kaliuchis, alexandrasaintmleux, and others !
yourusername: little surprise para ustedes [for you] 🥹 my new single lagunas is out on all streaming platforms !🌷 huge thank you to the person who inspired me to write this song! guess listening to your family was worth it for me to write my new favorite song!😁❤️❤️
username: EL QUE?? [what]
username: QUEEN W A NEW SONGGG
username: esperaaaa [wait], why is this song so sad
username: wdym by listening to your family was worth it🤨🤨 his family don’t like u mi reina?? [my queen] , i know a friend of a friend 🤨
kaliuchis: como siempre [like always], AMAZING 🌷💗💗
yourusername: ❤️💗💗
username: y nado entre lagunas en mi mente [and i swim in between the lagoons of my mind] 😣 so true mi reina so true
username: ugh she’s gorgeous
username: her voice in this song ☹️ wonder who her ex is bc she never said anything abt him but clearly she cared for him a lot ☹️
username: tbh i think he didn’t care for her as much bc she said he listened to his family lol, if u truly cares for ur gf u wouldn’t leave her no matter what
username: SOOO TRUE
alexandrasaintmleux: amazing amazing 🥹🫶
yourusername: gracias, amor😣💗 [thank you, love]
username: ariana what are u doing here
username: MAYBE LAGUNAS IS ABT A DRIVER?? CARLOS??
username: look at my moot yall, they’re delusional 😹
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and others !
carlossainz55: tal vez en otra galaxia sí fue diferente. [maybe in another galaxy it was different]
username: whats bro waffling abt
username: why are u using mothers song are ur caption….
charles_leclerc: deep
landonorris: so true
carlossainz55:🤨
username: i know charles can’t keep his mouth shut bc how’d pierre know abt lewis before the news?? SPILL LECLERC.
username: nah i think lando is more likely and i know he knows something. lando, you better start talking NOW
landonorris: i plead the fifth 😇😇😇
username: he looks soooo fine wait
username: carlos in his aesthetic era
username: why’d he use the part of the song where she sounded the most sad?
username: okay lagunas has to 100% be about carlos
username: esp when she said in her caption, that he listened to his family and broke up w her, sorry but i can see him doing that
username: he fumbled the baddest bitch, la bichota, rip carlos 🕊️🕊️
username: ughhhhh if carlos n y/n were fr a couple, they would’ve been the finest couple 😫
username: bro whatd u do for her to write and sing lagunas …..
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
yourusername uploaded to their story !
[caption 1; bueno… <well>] [caption 2; mi hombre siempre <my man always> ❤️]
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
liked by yourusername, charles_lecler , and others !
carlossainz55: ya volví a besar tu frente y en esta galaxia , yo te quiero más que cualquier cosa en este mundo . [i kissed your forehead again and in this galaxy, i love you more than anything in this world.]
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: mi corazón , como te quiero 🥹💗[my heart, how i love you]
carlossainz55: te quiero, nena❤️ and i was stupid for letting people tell me who to love
username: WHATTTT
username: omg my parents
username: los amo 😞 [i love them]
username: gosh she’s GORGEOUS
username: i seem to have missed the carlos and y/n lore WHAT
charles_leclerc: finally mate😕
landonorris: i was sick of his moping when it was his fault 🙄🙄
carlossainz55: ok ok i learnt my lesson….
yourusername: oh tell me more
charles_leclerc: was surprised he didn’t run out of tears 🏃♂️🏃♂️🏃♂️
username: NOT CHARLES AND LANDO EXPOSING CARLOS LMFAOOO😭😭
alexandrasaintmleux: ferrari girlies are gonna be reunited again!😫💗💗
yourusername: making ferrari latinos one wag at a time 😝
username: ok spaniard u won this time….
username: so he IS for the latinas iktr 😫😫🙏
username: still gonna stream lagunas tho😝
#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 scenario#formula one scenarios#f1 imagine#formula one imagines#formula one imagine#f1 scenarios#formula one social media au#carlos sainz smau#carlos sainz social media au#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine
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IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.
chapter eight:
<last chapter> <next chapter>
➴ warnings: none!!
➴ word count: 3.6k
➴ author’s note: don’t you guys love when people kiss and make up?
liked by jennaortega, arianagrande, elblue6 and 1,698,928 others
sophiamontenegro thanks for having me, new york 🎅🏻
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mtv JAW IS ON THE FLOOR
trevorzegras you should’ve come to anaheim
sophiamontenegro trevorzegras and u should fuck off
user1 sophiamontenegro trevorzegras I wanna know the beef between them so bad someone put me in soph’s close friends list
user2 user1 im pretty sure its just Trevor who doesn’t know how to take a hint…
arianagrande i love you
morgan.grace you’re so fucking hot Sophia the hell
user4 PROUD TO SAY THAT I WAS IN THAT CROWD
user5 damn how did Jack fumble this 😂
— ♡
DECEMBER always brought more work than you’d like to have but for the first time since you started working as a singer, you were grateful for it.
You had so many appearances, so many fans to see, so many concerts to do. You were grateful singing was your favorite thing to do because time passed and you didn’t even notice it.
But, now some of the fuss calmed down and you were able to spend time doing things that weren’t related to your career, like;
“Sophia, come on, you’re gonna be late!” Grace shouted from the living room and you laughed, pouring the butter flavored popcorn into a bowl. “Sophia!”
“Jesus, Grace, calm down,” you shouted back, looking for napkins. “It’s not like we have to be there or whatever.”
Today the Devils were playing against the Blackhawks and Grace asked you if you both could watch it at your house.
“We don’t have to if you think it will make you sad, but i really wanted to watch Nico tonight.” Grace smiled, not even trying to hide how she was head over heels for him.
“It’s okay, Grace, I swear. I want to see Nico too,” you smiled, trying to hide the fact that you’d secretly been watching all of their games, desperate to catch a glimpse of Jack’s blue eyes. “We can do a girls night.”
“But you’re losing all the good shit,” she whined. “The Blackhawks players are fine, too. That Bedard kid is a cute, little honeybun.”
You chuckled, walking away from the kitchen and sitting on the couch beside her, putting the bowl on the table.
“He has a girlfriend, y’know. He dates his teammate’s sister, Ellie I think.”
“Oh, I think I saw a picture of them together at a party last month,” she tapped her chin with her index finger. “They do look cute together.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, watching as the commentator introduced the players. “Who do you think is going to win?”
“Girl, I don’t like to tell anyone my predictions because what if I jinx it?” She stared at you, like you were crazy just for asking.
You rolled your eyes. “Ever since you and Nico started fucking you became awfully surpersticious.”
“Sophia Montenegro!” She raised her arms, kicking you with her feet. “You can’t talk to me like that! I’m your sister.”
“Which gives me permission to say that you and Nico are fucking. Who cares?” You kicked her back, starting a kicking fight.
You both just stopped when you were both out of breath and the game was starting. The first period was going surprisingly smooth for the Blackhawks, which made you— secretly— worry.
Jack has probably seen better days. You would always say that he’s the number one player in the team because for you he absolutely is, but even someone who didn’t know anything about Hockey could tell that he was lacking.
You bit your lips and squeezed your thighs because, even after everything, Jack looked so fucking good. Especially with the black Devils uniform. He looked handsome and you knew that he was all of that, and he’d always be.
Sometimes you’d think about how good the sex between the two of you was, and you’d wonder if you’d find anything like that ever again.
At the end of the first period, the scoreboard read 2-1, the Blackhawks winning. You and Grace were in the middle of a discussion about how her ex looked like Shaggy from Scooby Doo when the commentator started showing the celebrities who showed up to the game.
“Who even cares about the celebrities who showed up?” You threw popcorn at the screen. “Or even better, since when do they show celebrities? Aren’t they supposed to be interviewing the players or whatever?”
“You know a lot for someone who doesn’t watch the games,” Grace teased you, and you just pushed a handful of popcorn inside your mouth. “And sorry to say this, sweetie, but if people didn’t care about celebrities, you and I wouldn’t have a job.”
You rolled your eyes, paying attention to the TV again.
“So, tell me, Nat, I’ve heard that we have some pretty famous people here today.” The announcer talked to the reporter who was standing in some kind of expensive room Sophia didn’t know the name of.
The black woman just smiled, nodding her head and bringing the microphone closer to her face.
“That’s right, Shaan. Some well known people blessed us with their presence here today…”
“I hope it's Ariana Grande or some shit like that.” Grace muttered beside you.
“Oh remind me to call her later, I need to visit her next time I’m in LA,” you replied mindlessly, still watching the sports channel.
“…And among all of these people, we have the one and only, Harris Dickinson and his girlfriend, Chloe McGill!”
“What?!” You heard Grace yelling beside you, which confirmed that what you were seeing wasn’t just your head trying to play games with you.
There he stood, in all his glory, with the cocky smirk that once gave you butterflies and was now making you sick, with his arm wrapped around a girl’s waist.
“Am I tripping or that girl looks awfully like you?”
You looked at the scene in front of you, where the reporter was now interviewing Harris with an enthusiastic smile. The girl beside him, Chloe you think, indeed looked a lot like you.
“She… she looks just like how I did when I started dating him,” you concluded, feeling sick all over again. “Even the fucking bangs, Grace.”
She put her hand on your left arm, caressing you. “I’m so sorry, bubba. Do you want me to turn it off?”
“No, ‘course not,” you reassured her, trying to smile. “I’m fine, I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”
“Okay,” Grace whispered. “Okay.”
“…I’m just happy to be here, y’know?” Harris stated, still showing his pearly white teeth. “I’m a huge Devils fan, just like my girl here.”
“That’s the biggest lie he’s ever said,” you laughed, feeling sorry for how pathetic he is. “He deadass couldn’t even stand the thought of Hockey, or any sport for that matter. What the hell is he even saying?”
“Well, apparently that little girlfriend of his, is the daughter of one of the Devils’ coaches,” Grace promptly replied, and you looked at her, ready to ask how the hell she knew that, but seeing the phone in her hand. “They’re like, rich as fuck.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Harris’ type to me.” You mumbled, praying that the second period would come faster.
And maybe God did hear your prayers because not even five minutes later, the Devils and the Blackhawks were back on the ice. The game was nerve wracking, your nails and eardrums long gone from how much you’d bitten them and how loud Grace screamed during the game.
Jack was smooth on ice, the best you’ve seen him playing all season, even before you and him fought. It was satisfying to watch him doing what he loved and you were happy that he was finally getting back on track.
Two hours later, the game ended; the Devils won. Grace cheered and jumped around while you laughed at her, happy to see her happy. Even if you didn’t understand much of hockey and even if you didn’t care about it, you were also thrilled, because you knew Jack would be happy.
You kinda hated your mind for always thinking about him but you couldn’t help it. Not when you saw how handsome he looked and not when you still loved him. A lot.
The same reporter from before, Nat, continued to talk, interviewing some of the players from the team. Grace whined about being hungry and you rolled your eyes, getting up to cook for her.
“What do you want?” You asked, opening your cabinets. “I can make pasta for us.”
“Ugh, yes, please,” she fake-moaned and you laughed. “If I’m going to fuck Nico tonight, Imma need all the carbs in the world,”
“You’re disgusting. I hope you know that,” you answered back, putting the water to boil.
“For Nico Hischier? Hell yes I am!”
You cut the onions and garlic, before putting olive oil on a separate pan and adding them. Grace continued to yap about the game, pointing out all the best players and who she liked best, while you just nodded and cooked.
“Ooh, they’re having a fancy celebrating party tonight!” She yelled from the living room, even if you could still see her and the TV because you had an open kitchen, grabbing your attention. “Is it a gala? I hope it is, Hockey players look so fucking good in suits.”
“And they say I’m the horny one…” you mumbled, putting the tomato sauce inside the pan.
“Can this woman give us some information we actually want to hear? I don’t care if they have points or not, I just want to see them in suits!”
“She’s just doing her job, Grace, stop being a whore.”
Moving around the kitchen, you finished Grace’s dinner, and grabbed a plate for her, not after filling up a glass of cold water and grating some cheese.
You went back to the living room, placing everything in front of her, while she hugged you from behind, giving you neck kisses.
“I am going to wife you up, baby!”
You giggled. “Shut up and eat, weirdo,”
She just let you go and sat on the floor, swallowing the pasta like it was her last meal.
You both watched as they showed the party, all of the players there, people laughing and smiling for pictures. Jack wasn’t interacting with the reporters, and you thought it was weird, even if you knew he low-key hated them.
“…so, yeah, I’m definitely happy we won tonight but we still have to work hard—” Mercer suddenly stopped himself mid-sentence, leaving the woman— Nat— beside him confused. He covered his mouth with his hand and laughed. “Is that Jack fighting someone? That’s sick! Film that, baldy!” He asked the cameraman.
You and Grace stopped talking and stared at each other. The camera suddenly changed angles and showed a body you knew way too well on top of another body you, unfortunately, also knew well.
“Jesus, Jack is punching Harris in the face!” Grace announced, like you weren’t watching it yourself.
The angles weren’t good because you’d bet money the cameraman wasn’t expecting to record a fight tonight, but it was still pretty damn clear that Jack was punching Harris’ face repeatedly, while his girlfriend screamed and cried and the other players tried to get him off Harris’ face.
Harris fought back, but even though he tried, he wasn’t used to fighting. Unlike Jack, who threw every punch with force and precision.
“It seems like our number eighty-six, Jack Hughes, is having a fist fight with the actor Harris Dickinson!”
“Stop trying to state the obvious, bitch, film the fucking fight!” Grace yelled.
“Grace, calm down.” you whispered, watching as the camera focused on Jack again, this time him being dragged by Nico and Nathan while he shouted at them to let him go.
This was bad. Like, bad, truly bad. They focused on Harris’ face for just a second, and it was enough— his face was all bloody and he was probably going to have a black eye for a week, with how swollen his eye was. Jack had most likely broken his nose and shit wasn’t looking good.
“Oh my God, why did he do this!” You got up from the couch, pacing around the room. “Fuck, does he know what this is going to do to him? Harris is dating the Coach’s daughter, what the hell!”
Grace was also too stunned to speak, something that did not happen often. You could tell she was just as distressed as you.
“Harris Dickinson is going to the hospital with his girlfriend Chloe and his father-in-law, Coach Ryan McGill.”
“What the fuck, this is bad,” you put your hands on your head, trying to figure out what to do. “I need to do something.”
Grace sighed, loudly. “I should be the brain in our friendship but… yeah. I mean, I know you guys are out of contact right now but this… he definitely did this for you…”
“Yeah, Grace, make me feel worse, go ahead.” You hissed.
“I’m not trying to make you feel worse, baby, you know why he did that!” She raised her arms. “You should talk to him. This obviously isn’t working for any of you.”
“Grace—”
“No, you will hear me now!” She talked on top of you, also getting up. “I’ve watched you put on a fake smile and pretend you’re fine and I didn’t say anything because I knew you had to figure it out yourself, but I can’t do this anymore. You’re drowning yourself in work, you spend half of your time at your studio and the other half at John’s studio. You don’t go out, you don’t live.”
“Grace.” You tried again.
“And usually I’d say something like: ‘get over that fucking asshole’ or ‘he isn’t worth it’!” She walked back and forth. “But the worst part is that Nico told me Jack is just like you!”
That made you stop. “What?”
“He’s not at parties, he’s not hanging out with the team, he’s not goofing around. All he does is sleep, eat and go to practice. And, fuck, Nico doesn’t know what to do because Jack never acted like this before.”
“Grace, what…” you breathed, almost yanking your hoodie with how much force you were holding it. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it’s so fucking obvious you both love each other yet you won’t do anything!” She lamented, staring at your eyes. “I can’t watch you fall apart like this. You have to tell him that you want to be with him.”
“Grace, I can’t— I can’t do that.” You stuttered, trying your hardest not to cry.
“Sophia,” she whispered, grabbing your hands. “That man loves you. He just punched your ex-boyfriend on national television, with everyone watching. I stand with what I said back at that dreadful Halloween party, I’ve seen how he looks at you. And he loves you. Jack Hughes loves you, Sophia.”
You let her words sink in, nodding once. Grace was bossy, delusional and a bit insane too but she was right. You needed to do something.
“Okay,” you agreed, holding her against your body. “What do I do?”
“Shit, I didn’t think you’d agree with what I was saying… I don’t know?”
“You’re such a dumbass sometimes,” you laughed and she pinched your butt. “I think… I think I’m going to his house.”
“That’s a bald ass move and so right. Want me to go with you?”
“No, I’m good. I don’t even know if he’ll hear me out but I’ll try?” You stepped back, grabbing your car keys and purse.
“Call me if anything goes wrong,” she blinked, going back to the couch. “If you don’t, I’ll call you and risk interrupting your fuck.”
“Like I’d ever pick up,” you joked, leaving the house.
Jack lived thirty minutes away from you, and alongside with that, it was a Friday night in Newark— of course the streets were filled with cars. It took you an hour to get there but even so, Jack’s car wasn’t parked in front of his garage like it used to.
You turned your car off, and waited. You could wait outside but with how cold it was, it was safer for you to wait inside. You couldn’t risk getting sick.
Seconds turned into minutes and when the one hour mark came, you sighed.
“Maybe he isn’t coming home tonight,” you said to no one, tired of waiting. You knew you could call him, but you weren't entirely sure he’d pick up. “Maybe it’s just traffic.”
You decided to wait a little bit more, half an hour. If Jack wasn’t there by the end of it, you’d just come back tomorrow. Fortunately, shortly after that, Jack’s car was parked outside of his house.
You watched as he got out of it, opened the back door and grabbed his duffel bag. Taking a deep breath, you left your car and closed the door silently.
Walking to his porch with fast steps, you called him. “Jack!”
He stopped immediately, turning around to face you. He had a bandage on his eyebrow and one on his cheek. Your heart tugged on your chest.
“Soph?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him.
You stepped closer, smiling awkwardly.
“Hi,” you said, softly, putting your hands inside your pockets. “Can we… hum… talk?”
He stared at you for a second, before nodding and turning around again, opening his door and letting you inside the house first. You thanked him and stepped inside, taking in the sight you missed so much, his home.
You both stayed quiet for a while; he put his things away and you stood there, weirdly. You didn’t know how to start the conversation, so you just stared at him. He looked tired, dark circles adorning his face, hair messy and face a bit swollen. Even if he looked hurt, he looked ten thousand times better than Harris, who was probably in the emergency room at the local hospital.
“Jack,” you started, noticing how his body went stiff and he stopped moving. “Why did you do it?”
You didn’t give him a chance to reply, stepping closer and putting your hand on his face, feeling the hotness of it, and realizing you missed him more than you knew.
“Jesus, Jack, do you even realize what you did?” You whispered, moving your thumb up and down. “He’s dating your coach’s daughter. He’s a powerful man, baby.” The pet name slipped out of your tongue, but you didn’t want to take it back.
“Fuck,” he breathed, grabbing your wrist and kissing it. “Say it again, Soph.”
Maybe someone else would need him to clarify it better, explain further. But not you. Not when the love you felt for him ran deep inside your soul.
“Baby,” you whispered again, watching as he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows.
“Sophia, fuck, what did you do to me?” His voice sounded so tender, you could feel your body wanting nothing more than to melt inside his arms. “I can’t— Fuck.”
“Jack, you need to understand that what you did, baby, it could cost you a lot—”
“I know. Soph, I know that. And I still would break his asshole’s nose again and again.”
“Why did you do it?”
He stepped away, and you immediately wanted him to come back. “Why did I do it? Isn’t it obvious?” He laughed, humorlessly. “Sophia, I am in love with you. I love you.”
You felt your cheeks getting wet, and only then did you realize you were crying.
“I didn’t understand it sooner because, hell, I have never loved a woman before that wasn’t my mom, and even then, it’s not even close to what I feel towards you,” he ran his hands through his hair. “I didn’t think being in a relationship was for me, I didn’t even want it. But now I look at you and—” he looked at you, blue eyes brighter than you’d ever seen. “I look at you and I realize you’re all I want.”
You were fully crying now, the tears running down your face like models on a runway. Your hands were shaking, and you wanted to scream at him.
“You’re it for me, baby,” he stepped closer, gently putting his hands on your waist, letting you rest your head on his chest. “I know that you’re upset, and I know this isn’t easy for you. We all got bags full of shit that we don’t want, but I will unpack them for you, baby. Just… just let me.”
“Jack,” you sniffled, trying to stop crying. “I need you to know that I love you, too. But,” you pressed your lips together, organising your thoughts. “You need to know that sometimes it’s going to be hard for me. I don’t trust so easily anymore and I’m sorry for it but that’s just who I am.”
You could swear you could feel his smile, while he held you tighter. “It’s okay, Soph. When I tell you that I want you, I don’t mean only the good parts. I want you whole. I want the bad, the good and the in-between,”
“What if,” you hold him impossibly closer. “I don’t want you to get tired of me.”
“Tired of you?” He chuckled. “I want to marry you.”
You stepped away from his like he was on fire. Frowning, you raised your finger.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Hughes. Besides that, you’re literally twenty-two.”
“I don’t mind you being my old sugar mommy,” he shrugged, smiling.
“Call me old again, Jack Hughes, and I promise you will never hear from me again.” You smiled too, and for the first time in probably two months, it felt real.
“Yes, ma’am,” he stopped smiling, stepping closer to you again. Holding your wrists to his mouth, he kissed the right first before moving onto the next. After he was done, he placed them on his neck, grabbing your waist.
You stood on your toes, trying to stay face to face with him.
“Can I be your boyfriend?”
You smiled. “I guess you can.”
“You guess?” He bickered back, plastering his white teeth for you. “Can I kiss you, baby?” He whispered, kissing your cheeks. Then your nose, then your forehead. Always gentle and steady. “Soph, sweetheart, can I kiss you?”
Instead of answering, you just glued your lips together, moaning because you had missed this so much. His lips felt like the sweetest thing in the world and when he touched your tongue with his, you were sure you had turned into butter and was now melting.
Maybe your forever wasn’t so distant at all.
#jack hughes#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x oc#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fic#jack hughes smut#jack hughes x singer!fmc#jack hughes x singer!reader#IYLMLMK
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girl i LOVE your fics.. ur such a diva i CANNOT u look so cool?!?! if i may, can i request something like dom x reader that always works late.. so basically by the time dominic is sleeping, reader gets home 😭 hear me out, i’ve had a literal DREAM about this.. like he’s just sleeping while reader comes home + cuddles him while he sleeps, if you get my point :3
i have so many ideas but i dont wanna stress u out at all by adding even more requests and stuff…
CLOSE TO YOU || D.F x reader
summary: dominic sleeps better when you’re next to him.
a/n: OMGGG this is so sweet🥹 and pls send them, i’ll write them eventually! it won’t stress me out :)
writing all of these make me feel so lonely sometimes like goddamn!!!! my turn when?!!!!! hope you guys enjoy, this one’s short but sweet <3
It was well past midnight when you pushed open the front door, careful not to let it creak too loudly. You slipped off your shoes, setting your bag down in its usual spot, and let out a tired sigh.
The apartment was dark, save for the faint glow of the nightlight Dominic had insisted on keeping in the hallway—“So you don’t trip over everything when you come in,” he’d said with a teasing grin.
You tiptoed through the quiet space, your heart softening as you approached the bedroom door.
Inside, Dominic was sprawled across the bed, his arm hanging off the edge and his hair sticking up in messy tufts.
He was completely knocked out, his slow, steady breathing filling the room.
The sight made your exhaustion melt away just a little. This was always the part of your day you looked forward to most—coming home to him, even if he was already fast asleep.
You slipped into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable, quietly brushing your teeth and washing off the stress of the day.
When you emerged, Dominic hadn’t moved an inch. He was still lying on his stomach, hugging a pillow as if it were you.
As you eased into bed, the mattress dipped slightly under your weight. The familiar warmth of Dominic radiated from where he lay, his face peaceful in the soft glow of the hallway light that filtered through the cracked door.
You moved slowly, careful not to jostle him too much as you slid under the blanket and shifted closer.
His cheek pressed into the pillow, hair messy and sticking up in every direction.
You paused for a moment to take him in, your heart swelling at how endearing he looked when he was like this—unguarded, relaxed, safe.
You reached out tentatively, brushing your fingertips along the bare skin of his arm. He stirred at the touch, his brow twitching in a small frown before it smoothed out again.
You couldn’t resist trailing your hand up to his shoulder, your fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns across his back.
His skin was warm under your touch, and you felt the tension in your own body begin to melt away.
As you inched closer, you tucked yourself into his side, resting your head against his back for a moment, listening to the steady rise and fall of his breath.
He was so warm, and the familiar scent of his cologne lingered faintly on his skin even now. It grounded you, making the day’s stress fade into a distant memory.
Carefully, you slid an arm around his waist, letting it rest just above his hip.
He shifted slightly at the movement, a low hum of approval slipping from his lips as if even in his sleep, he knew it was you.
Encouraged, you snuggled in further, pressing your front against his side. The blanket tangled slightly around your legs, but you didn’t care.
All that mattered was the way Dominic instinctively turned toward you, his body adjusting to accommodate you even while unconscious.
“Hmm,” he mumbled groggily, his voice thick with sleep as he stirred. His hand reached out, fumbling for yours under the covers.
When his fingers found yours, he intertwined them, pulling your hand snug against his chest. “You’re late,” he muttered, barely coherent but clearly teasing.
A soft laugh escaped your lips, and you nuzzled into his shoulder. “You’re asleep,” you whispered, your voice gentle. “Go back to dreaming, Dom.”
He murmured tiredly, his voice thick with sleep. “You’re home.”
Your heart twisted at the sound. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing lightly over his cheek.
Dominic turned toward you, his eyes barely opening as a small smile curved his lips. “It’s okay. I always sleep better when you’re here.”
You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Go back to sleep, Dom. I’m here now.”
He hummed in contentment, pulling you closer with an arm that felt far stronger than it should have for someone half-asleep. “Long day?”
“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “But it’s better now.”
But instead of answering, he shifted again, this time rolling onto his side to face you. His arm draped over your waist, pulling you in closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.
His leg tangled with yours under the blanket, and his nose brushed lightly against your temple.
You snuggled into his warmth, resting your head against his chest where you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The stresses of work, the late nights, the exhaustion—it all felt manageable in moments like this, with Dominic holding you close, even in his dreams.
“Goodnight, loser,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips as you closed your eyes.
Somewhere in his sleep, Dominic mumbled, “Goodnight, idiot,” and it was enough to make you feel whole again.
#dominic fike#euphoria#dominic fike fan fiction#dom fike#elliot euphoria#my writing#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike x reader#dominic fike x you#request#requests#requests open
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Can you do a fic about you going on a date with a guy you met, and you go on this date and have to call Chris to save you in the middle of it because the guy starts to make you uncomfortable. Chris ends up confessing his love for you and you do the same ?
you thought it might be nice to try something new. dating apps were an experiment, and swiping through profiles felt more like a game than anything serious. when ryan asked you out, you figured, why not? his messages were clever enough, and he seemed normal—or at least, normal enough.
but now, sitting across from him at this dimly lit bar, you're regretting every decision that brought you here.
his jokes are off. not funny, just off. the kind that make your skin crawl, like he’s testing boundaries just to see how far he can push them. you fake polite laughs at first, but it only seems to encourage him.
then there’s the way he keeps leaning in, closing the space between you like he’s daring you to pull back. your drink sits untouched while you nod along to whatever he’s saying about himself—something about his ex, or maybe his job.
why the fuck was he telling you about your ex? absolutely not.
your phone feels heavy in your pocket, a lifeline you’re too nervous to grab. when he brushes your arm, the touch lingers just a second too long, and that’s it for you.
"excuse me," you mumble, slipping out of your chair. "just gonna use the bathroom."
in the cramped stall, you fumble for your phone, your hands shaking slightly as you type out a message to chris.
you hey can u call me?? this date is fucking horrible i need out read, 8:34 pm
the three dots appear almost immediately.
chris wya? read, 8:34 pm
you send the address. no hesitation.
chris i'm on my way j relax for now kid read, 8:35 pm
you exhale, leaning against the stall door. it’s going to be fine. chris always has your back.
back at the table, ryan’s irritation is thinly veiled behind a smile. "you okay? thought you ditched me for a second there."
"just a quick call," you say, forcing a smile. your phone buzzes on cue.
"sorry, gotta take this." you step away again, answering without hesitation.
"i’m outside," chris says, voice calm and steady.
the relief is instant. "okay, thanks, be right there."
you grab your bag, muttering an apology to ryan. "friend emergency. i have to go, i'm sorry."
he starts to protest, but you’re already heading for the door, your heart pounding as you step outside and spot chris sitting casually in the driver's seat.
"hey," he says once you climb into the passenger seat, his eyes scanning you like he’s making sure you’re really okay.
"hey," you reply, and just like that, the tension eases.
the car smells faintly of his cologne, familiar and grounding. "what happened?" he asks as he pulls onto the street, his tone neutral but his grip on the wheel firm.
"he was...weird," you say, shrugging. "too much. i didn’t feel safe."
chris nods, jaw tightening. "idiot," he scoffs.
you glance at him, surprised. "what?"
"him," he clarifies, glancing at you briefly. "for thinking he could get you."
you laugh, a short, nervous sound. “c'mon. it’s not like that.”
he doesn’t respond right away, just keeps driving. finally, he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment and turns to face you, one arm draped over the steering wheel.
"nah, it is like that," he says, voice low but steady. "you deserve better. someone you didn't randomly meet on tinder, who probably just wants to fuck. need someone who actually sees you."
you blink, unsure how to respond. "chris..."
he shakes his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "i mean, i’ve been your best friend for years, and i’ve tried to play it cool, but i kinda can’t anymore."
the words hang in the air, heavy and electric.
"say something," he says, his confidence faltering just slightly.
you stare at him, heart pounding. "i think...i’ve been waiting for you to say that."
his smirk softens into a real smile, the kind that makes your chest ache in the best way. "yeah?"
"yeah."
he leans in, slow enough that you can stop him if you want to, but you don’t. when his lips meet yours, it’s not rushed or hungry like all the other kisses you've experienced with men you've met on dates. it’s warmth, steady and sure, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.
when he pulls back, his eyes are brighter, his smile a little smug. "took you long enough," he scoffs.
you laugh, shaking your head. "shut up and drive me to get ice cream."
he chuckles, throwing the car into reverse. "whatever you want."
and for the first time all night, you feel completely at ease.
thank you for reading!! <3
tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart
@chrissturnsfav ™
#chrissturnsfav ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets x reader#christopher sturniolo x reader
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okay i was watching some old grill the grid videos & have u seen the one where daniel has no idea how to tie a tie??
imagine there’s a special event and he asks you to tie it for him 🫠😍 or you ask him to secure your necklace for you (those little acts of service are so hot to me)
this could absolutely work for divorced dad daniel, like imagine getting ready to go to a charity event for his kids school or something hehehehehehe
silk and stares | d. ricciardo
LIV!! i love that little clip, it lives rent free in my mind. this was originally a ramble but turned into a drabble. enjoy!!
part of the divorced dad!daniel series
warnings: post-divorce daniel, suggestive themes, age gap, unresolved sexual tension.
daniel was standing in front of the mirror in his modest bedroom, fingers fumbling uselessly with the silk tie around his neck. he let out a frustrated sigh, muttering something under his breath as he gave up and yanked the tie loose.
his kids school had a charity event running this evening, and of course he was going to attend. he had asked you to come over around an hour earlier, as an overseer as him and his kids got dressed up for the night.
now, you were leaning against the doorframe of the room, arms crossed as a smirk made its way onto your lips. “need some help there, mr. ricciardo?”
his gaze shot to yours through the mirror, his mouth quirking into a crooked grin. “i swear, i’m hopeless with these things. every time i think i have it figured out, and then..” he trails off, gesturing towards the tie that was hanging awkwardly around his neck.
pushing yourself off of the door, you step into the room and walk slowly towards him. the tension between you both was electric, unspoken, and only thickening as you got closer.
“you’d think a guy like you would’ve learned by now,” you tease, your tone light but a little suggestive as you approach him.
daniel chuckles, the deep timbre of it sends a small shiver through you. “guess i’ve always been better at taking things off than putting them on.”
the air grew heavier at his words, and you try to ignore the heat crawling up your neck. instead, you grab the tie and motion for him to turn towards you. “alright, let me fix this before you embarrass yourself in front of the PTA,” you tease, trying to move on from his previous comment. you didn’t want to, but.. you shouldn’t start anything you couldn’t finish quick enough. especially not before something important for his kids.
daniel complies, his hands placing themselves on your hips as you step close— too close. the smell of his cologne is warm and woody, something that makes it almost impossible to focus on the simple task at hand.
your fingers work deftly, slipping the silk fabric into a neat knot. as you loop it through, you couldn’t resist a little teasing. “you know, this really isn’t hard. you’ve been wearing ties for how long now?”
he huffs out a laugh, tilting his head to look down at you. “someone’s mouthy tonight, hm?” he murmurs, raising an eyebrow. when you continue to just smirk up at him, he starts talking again. “anyways, just.. not my strong suit. figured i’d just keep finding people like you to help me out.”
your lips quirk up as you tighten the knot and instead of stepping back, you pull him closer by the tie— forcing him to bend slightly toward you. his breath hitches, dark eyes locking on yours.
“you’re lucky i’m just such a good samaritan,” you tell him, voice dropping just slightly, enough to make it clear that your words carry a double meaning.
daniel swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. his voice comes out lower than usual, “yeah? you always this nice to struggling dads, or am i just someone special?”
you tilt your head, fingers still gripping his tie as you take your time straightening it against his chest. “you? special?” you tease, allowing the moment to stretch, your voice light and playful but your eyes betraying you— betraying the obvious chemistry thrumming between you two. “let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
daniel smirks, his thumbs drawing small circles onto you as his other four fingers squeeze into your skin. “right. wouldn’t want to get the wrong idea,” he murmurs, voice tinged with something heavier, something that hung in the small space between you.
for a moment, neither of you move. the air feels thick with unspoken possibilities, his lips just mere inches away from yours as he stares down into you. you feel the heat radiating off him, his presence could only be described as magnetic, and you swore the only things holding you back were his kids downstairs, and the goddamn tie that was still in your hands.
finally, you step back and release the tie with a little pat to his chest. “there,” you say, your voice feigning nonchalance though your pulse was racing. you knew you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not daniel. but you still continued on. “now you won’t embarrass your kids. you’re welcome.”
daniel exhales slowly, a hint of his signature smirk returning to his lips. “guess i owe you one.”
you raise an eyebrow, already taking a few steps towards the door. “you owe me plenty, ricciardo. don’t you forget it.”
his laughter follows you out the room, but you don’t look back. if you had, you would’ve seen the way his gaze lingered on you, and just how tight his pants had become.
fuck.
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#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo fic#opening my mail#divorced dad! daniel
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