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hopeastrz · 7 months

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𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐕𝐈🌼✨

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫/𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 + 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞??! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟏,𝟓𝐤 𝐀𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞!.

The childlike wonder 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐒 posses is so precious, makes me feel like it’s their first life on earth, they are so so sweet when comfortable, because as much as they can’t hold their negative emotions at bay, they do the same to positive ones, which makes them share everything with you, especially little things that makes them happy and excited too.. i love them so much.

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐘 — 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎 harmonious aspects tend to give you a very magnetic and enchanting tone, you may have a low husky voice or you just have a very slight but attractive Hoarseness.

No because why does 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝟏𝟏° have the most unhinged/weird af thoughts out there.. Me and Felix of stray kids have the exact same mercury placement with the same degree 𝟏𝟏° 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟏𝟎𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄, and when he said “chicken has meat in it,” + “i believe there are ghosts but i don’t want to believe there are ghosts.” I felt him the most, these two quotes gives you enough context i guess.

𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 attract jealousy and obsession from their friends it’s kinda concerning so take care!.

𝟐𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 LOWER🗣️ YOUR 🗣️ DAMN🗣️ VOICE🗣️.. if i discovered that some of you have natural high tech speakers attached to your throats i wouldn’t even be surprised.

𝟐𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 may become financially stable in an early stage of their lives, I’m talking like in late teenage years, they pay for their college tuitions or something, they just have to have this responsibility on their shoulders somehow, same thing for 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄.

𝐋𝐄𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒, go blonde, it suits you so freaking much, i don’t make the rules.

𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐔𝐌 𝐌𝐄𝐍 and the chokehold they have on me, i love them so much dude.

If a 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 — 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 breaks up with someone just know that they really reached their limit, because they tend to turn blind eye on lots of things in a relationship, since they cherish harmony and love, they are one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet.

𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 dance, dance it’ll do wonders to your and your body.

𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐒 please im begging you, stop being so hard on yourselves, you are enough trust me.

𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈, 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 have the most diverse music taste in the world, it’ll literally blow your mind!, they listen to everything, any genre, rock, punk, home, R&B anything you have in mind and in different languages too.

𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐔𝐌 are very artistic it’s fascinating, really quite admirable, and if accompanied with 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 then you’ll have the most amazing multitasking creative individual ever, the type to be so good at everything, drawing, singing, dancing, writing literally whatever art related.. they have a wide set of hobbies and won’t fail to impress you.

𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 kindly give me your skin care routine right now. I’m not even joking the have the most flawless skin ever, so soft and chubby just beautiful!.

I’ll always recommend checking your 𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 until my last breath because it will never fail you, to me it is the most important 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 out there especially if you just can’t resonate with your natal chart ascendant..

.. furthermore I’m a Sagittarius rising in my natal chart with Pluto and bla bla, but for years i always thought that it doesn’t suit me, even though i have my exact right birth time, later on when i checked my ascendant persona chart IT MADE SO MUCH SENSE..

.. people used to say that i have a soft, delicate and dreamy nature to my face, like i seem lost, also they said that i look rich lmao, basically everything that had nothing to do with my natal chart rising, and when i checked 𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐂 i had pisces ascendant conjunct Uranus 7° and Moon 16°.. it was mind blowing istg.

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 – 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎/𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 fuck your self worth so bad, no because they are the type to question people love for them 24/7 because they just can’t believe it. In Neptune case it puts a veil on your face making you blind, but for Pluto it just makes you feel like you are the worst person out there and you don’t deserve to be loved… these people need a hug so bad rn.

You know who has this placement? 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎, The Versace prince Hwang Hyunjin of stray kids!, and if you remember he once said in maniac concert “i still don’t know why do you like me.. do i deserve this kind of love?.”….. yeah, i can’t do this today *proceeds to scream in her pillow.”

Now lastly on 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒—𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 you have the best eyebrows out there, just quite neat and attractive, especially if 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 it’ll enhance this placement.

#astrology #astrology observations #astrology aspects #astrology degrees #astrology notes #astrology houses #astro placements #astrology planets #astro observations #astrology asteroids #stray kids #skz felix #felix birth chart #Hyunjin #hyunjin birth chart #stray kids astrology

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tojiphile · 8 months

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you don't need other boys when you have him, your daddy’s best friend. he’s everything you’d ever need and more, better than all the boys—he’s a man. a good man. these are the words he croons into your ear every time he sneaks into your room late at night, slipping an arm around your waist and his cock in your eagerly waiting cunt.

it all started when you had a fight with your dad. even though your dad was hosting his own birthday party, you sulked all night. your dad didn’t try to hide his own snide comments, so why should you? you didn’t greet guests nor help out, instead choosing to use your phone, drink as much booze as you could and retire to your bedroom early.

as you lay in bed, you could still hear the reverberations of music and the boisterous laugh of middle aged men and women alike. you groaned and covered your head with a pillow, trying to drown out the noise. so when he knocked on your door, opened it when you didn’t answer, and walked in, you jumped when the weight shifted on your bed as he sat down.

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he says kindly, lending you a smile, “you just seemed… off, today. i wanted to check in on you.”

you sit up. this man was your dad’s best friend of years. not having any kids of his own, he spoilt you rotten. he bought you all the toys and pretty dresses that your dad refused to, arguing that they were too expensive before throwing money at gambling or whatever new woman walked into his life. as you grew up, you couldn’t help but develop a soft spot for him. when you sat still and pretty during dinners and parties, nodding along like a good girl your father demanded you be, your eyes always fell on him. his charming disposition, the way he chided your father like no one else could, and the way he’d always put food on your plate first, giving you a wink as you said thank you wordlessly.

of course, when your friends would talk about dilfs, your mind would never go to your father, the deadbeat dad who provided nothing for you. instead, you would always think about him. his salt and pepper hair that he ran his calloused hands through, smile lines set on his face more defined than any wrinkles, his toned body that you would dream about, touch yourself to every night. you were suddenly conscious that you weren’t wearing a bra. nor shorts.

“i’m fine.” you pull your blanket up to cover your chest. maybe it was the six pack of beer or the cask strength whiskey, but your head was pounding, and your heart was racing. he put a large hand on your thigh. your blanket hid your bare skin from his, but his gentle touch already sent heat pooling in your lower body.

“i’m sorry about your dad,” he says, “he’s an idiot.” he rubs your thigh reassuringly, perhaps innocently unaware of what he’s doing to you, “he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. much less his perfect daughter.”

you flush. was he really saying this? he continues, “i’ve tried to tell him so many times, y’know? how amazing you are, so filial, better than so many other daughters this day and age. he keeps blaming it on your mum leaving but god, that shouldn’t be a fucking excuse.”

he’s working himself up, you can tell as his brow furrows, his arms tense. it feels good to be validated, especially when your father was so unmoving. you place a hand on his toned arm, “i’m fine, but thanks.”

“but you shouldn’t be fine!” he stands up, pacing. you internally bemoan the loss of contact, “if i was your dad, i’d never treat you this way,” he sits back down softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, “if you were mine, i’d take care of you.”

his flushed face is inches from yours, you can smell the whiskey on his breath and see the heat in his gaze, almost blazing. he cups your face gently, eyes studying your face before falling back to your eyes, “you’re perfect, so beautiful.” you hold his gaze, you don’t know where this is going but you don’t want this moment to end.

the moment ends when you both hear your father yell and a beer bottle break. he must have lost in a game of poker. before you can react, your father’s best friend shoots up, “i’m sorry,” he trudges towards your bedroom door, “i shouldn’t have come up.”

his hand is already on your door handle and your mouth acts before your brain can stop it, “no.” he turns to look at you.

your pull the blanket off, revealing your bare legs, nipples perky against your thin shirt, “stay.”

his breath hitches, and you can see his pants tightening. he can’t peel his eyes away from you but he manages to mutter, “it’s wrong.”

you turn your body to his, spreading your legs and placing your feet on the bed, exposing your core to him.

“please.”

whatever self control he had left seems to have evaporated at the pleading sound of your voice as he clicks your door lock into place and races over to your bed, forcing you to lie flat as he climbs on top of you, slotting himself between your spread legs, trapping you under him.

“you’re beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down to press featherlight kisses on your neck, “so beautiful.” you gasp as a hand grips your waist, running down the side of your figure.

“but this is wrong…” he tries to pull away but you stop him. “i don’t care.” you yank him by the front of his shirt, pulling all his weight on top of you as you press your lips together, running your hands down his broad back. he takes a second to react but follows your lead, he nips at your bottom lip and as you moan, he slips his tongue into your mouth.

he breaks away from the kiss, sitting up to pull off his shirt, revealing his defined abs. you let yourself feel him, reveling in the feeling. he leans back down, gaze never leaving yours but just as your lips are are about to meet, he stops. you can’t help but whine, though the sound is replaced by a gasp as a calloused hand cups you through your panties.

“you’re already soaked,” he laughs, “good girl.”

embarrassed but so unbelievably desperate, you let out a sigh, “only for you, daddy.”

he scoffs, “i know.” he pulls your panties aside, revealing your puffy pussy, “this isn’t the first time i’ve come up to your room.” he spreads you with his fingers, and you shut your eyes in anticipation, “i tried to find you last week to say goodbye but your walls are really thin. i heard you call out my name.”

the last time he was over, he must have come from the gym as his damp hair along with the tightest compression shirt you’d ever seen was enough for you to squeak out a tiny “excuse me”, before running to your room before you creamed yourself right there at the dinner table.

he slips two fingers into your greedy cunt, snapping you back to reality. he moves slowly, but his long, slender digits worked their magic, loosening you up while hitting at that spongy spot inside you. his thumb finds your clit and moves in small circles, causing your brain to short circuit. he hadn’t done much but the pleasure is insurmountable, the whole situation overwhelms you, and you find your core tightening, close. “cum for me,” he kisses down your neck, sucking near your collarbone. at his okay, you chase your release, writhing under him as his fingers continue working.

“so good for daddy,” he kisses you as you pant softly.

he slips his fingers out of your cunt and display them to you, slick and dripping. “messy girl.” you squirm as he spreads his fingers, showing off your viscous juices. he maintains eye contact with you as he takes his own digits in his mouth, sucking them clean, tasting you.

"sweet, just like you." he proclaims, booping your nose with the same finger that was just in his mouth seconds earlier. “can you take more?”

you nod. he grins, pressing a chaste kiss onto your lips. he sits up, one hand caressing your face and the other unbuckling his belt. he pulls it off in a swift motion, but before he can begin unbuttoning his pants, you move your hand to do so. "allow me," you smile up at him, puppy eyes glinting.

"someone's excited." he laughs, moving his hand to allow you to work on his buttons. his other hand, still on your face, makes its way down slowly, before his grip finally rests on your neck.

you unbutton his jeans and are faced with his grey underwear, straining from his bulge. “keep going,” he nudges you with his free hand. you pull at his waistband, allowing his cock to spring free. it’s thick, veiny, and big, bigger than any of the other boys’ you’d ever been with. tentatively, you wrap a hand around his length, causing him to hiss softly. your thumb doesn’t meet your fingers, so as you start pumping him slowly, up and down, you have to use two hands to grip him tight.

“god, you’re amazing,” he says with a sigh, giving your neck a gentle squeeze, gazing at you like you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever crossed his sight. when you meet his eyes you can’t help but look away. still, you manage a whisper, “i- i want you.”

“say that again?” he asks, distracted by your hands working to unravel him. you flush.

“i want you…” you meet his eyes, “…in me.”

he barks out a laugh, spurred on by your boldness, “anything for you.”

he moves to stand up, shrugging off his bottoms. he moves to your bedside table and rummages around, looking for something. “any condoms?”

you shake your head. “i must have ran out. are you clean?”

he laughs. “considering you’re the first person i’ve fucked in a few years, i’d hope so.”

“good,” you hide a cheeky smile, before giving him your best puppy dog eyes, “because i really, really want daddy to give me his babies.”

with a raise of an eyebrow, he accepts the challenge. he always loves you best when you’re confident. makes him want to ruin you. he climbs back over you, spreading your thighs apart and aligning the tip of his cock with your dripping cunt.

he looks at you for your approval, and at your nod, he pushes his tip in. you gasp at the stretch, his thick cock opening you up like a present. you wanted him, no, needed him to fill you up, to make you feel so, so full.

you rut into him and he gets the hint, pushing himself deeper into you. it starts to feel painful, and you clench around him, trying to seek some relief. your fluttering walls make him feel so good, too good. he could feel himself coming close. “don’t do that!” he warns, but it comes out more as a moan.

you disobey, of course, and squeeze tighter. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him in deeper, causing you both to breathe in a sharp intakes of breath. any pain had evaporated into the pooling warmth in your stomach.

both of you stay in that position for a while, eyes locked. “fuck it,” he growls under his breath, grabbing onto your waist and pulling your body away from his, before snapping it back. he’s thrusting in, and pulling you off, all while his curved cock continues to hit that sweet, sweet spot that makes you see stars. you almost fall limp, but wanting to prove yourself, you start fucking yourself on his cock, lifting your hips and trying to move yourself to ease his load.

“such a good, a good girl. my good girl. my girl. my girl. mine.” he chants it like a mantra, each syllable a beat he moved along to as he fucked you silly. “who owns you?”

“you, daddy!”

he places a hand on your bare stomach and squeezes. following the curve of your body, he finds your breast. he takes your whole boob in his big hand, squeezing it so tightly it hurt. he moves to play with your nipples, rolling it around between calloused fingers, pebbling it. you moan and arch your back, allowing him to sink deeper into you.

“what a good girl you are, huh? fucking yourself on his cock. my pretty, pliant girl. ‘m gonna fill you up with my babies. wanna see your cute little stomach swell.” he lifts one of your legs, tucking it over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper than you thought he could. you’re squirming, trying to keep up with his relentless pounding but god it’s too much. his hand wanders your body, gripping at your tender flesh. he wants to feel you, every part of you.

just the thought makes the pooling heat in your stomach come to a boil, your toes curling, you cry out, “i’m gonna cum!” he continues fucking you, his stamina never letting up, “cum for me, my pretty girl, i’m close too.”

the pleasure is building to a climax and as he places a hand on your neck and squeezes, you feel your high washing over you, cunt convulsing over his cock. his grip doesn’t release, and black spots start to cover your vision, making you let out a shaky moan.

as he looks down at you, back arching and falling while he fucked you through your orgasm, the obscene sight of your precious body squirming under him is what takes him over the edge. he’s cumming into you, warm jets of white shooting straight into your cunt. his head empty other than his relentless thoughts, “mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.”

you both reach that peak together, gripping onto each other for dear life. when you’re all done, he presses a deep kiss on your lips and slips his softening cock out of you, rolling to lie by your side. still, greedily, he pushes his cum back into you, “take it all.”

he opens up and lets you roll into his arms. he places a gentle kiss on your forehead, and smooths out your tangled hair. you both lie there in comfortable silence, your eyes falling shut and his focused on you. soon, your breathing became even. when you fall asleep, he rolls himself out of your bed, looking down at your sleeping form, so peaceful and worry-free. he wants you to look like that always. slowly, he gets himself dressed to rejoin your dad’s party downstairs. tucking you in, he presses one final kiss on your head and whispers,

“good girl.”

GETO SUGURU, gojo satoru, zhongli, hajime iwaizumi, NANAMI KENTO, tetsuro kuroo, aki hayakawa

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charles-leclerizz · 3 months

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🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑The sweatshirt

🏁 Pairings : Charles Leclerc X fem! Reader

🏁 Warnings : none! just fluffy times

🏁 Word Count : 1.7k words (1792 words)

🏁 Author's note : First post! Hopefully you all like it. I am definetly thinking of new things to write so I pray that ya'll look forward to them! Make sure to lilke and reblog (anything is appreciated, but comments and reblogs fuel this sad little writer). Also, peep the word dividers (lana del ray coded) by @plum98! Note that all translations are avaible at the end, via radio comm! Thank you <3

🏁 Music player : The bones by Maren Morris & Hozier

“Mon amour, have you seen my sweatshirt?” Your fiancé’s voice rung throughout your shared apartment as you stacked the damp plates into the washing machine. The odd clunking of you organising dishes continued as he rushed out of the bedroom passing by the kitchen, where you worked, and towards his office.

“Which one?” You called back, drying your hands on the pale green washcloth that hung from the fitted hook above the sink, the new one! “No, I haven’t seen it, baby, you come back with new sweatshirts every week, just wear another one?” You offered helpfully, bending down towards the indented shelfs within the breakfast bar to grab new hand towels, wanting to replace the one’s that hung, used and abused in the bathrooms.

“But that one is important.” A worrying thud emitted from the home office, which was soon followed by a deep groan from Charles.

You hummed in support, stacking the fluffy white towels in your hands, “Why is it so important?” because! “Because what?” Leaning down to the scented fabric in your grasp, you take a large breath in, enjoying the strawberry scent that emitted from them.

“It just is,” He whined in reply, emerging from the room he had left in disarray whilst rubbing the back of his head, hissing as he pulled his fingers back to check for blood, “Why is my desk so low?”

“I don’t know my love, I warned you when you had bought it in the first place,” You scurry away from the kitchen, wanting to avoid his assessing gaze, lest he find out where his new sweatshirt really was, “Aren’t you just going to Max’s place? Why do you need it?”

“Because he wanted to see- hey...” He cuts himself off with a suspicious lilt in his voice, you try to speed up your efforts seeing the glinting metallic handle of the bathroom waiting for you to escape into, “Amour...” His voice is accusatory but amused, as if he appreciates your efforts to evade him.

“What? Charles I really need to get the chores done; I only have this weekend.” You turn around slowly and watch him approach you, his eyes crinkled with affection. Busted.

“Baby, why do you have my new sweatshirt?” He reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your cheek, caressing it with the pad of his thumb.

“’Cause,” You mumble, fiddling with the tag of one of the towels cradled on your chest, “It’s nice,” You shrug, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Even after six years, you found in hard to admit such things to Charles, despite his kind eyes and cute dimples. Emotional affection was hard to extract from your dark, stony heart, so such pitiful attempts at it, such as stealing his sweatshirt and admitting why you did it, was completely out of the question.

“it’s nice?” He cocks his head, like a small puppy waiting for a treat, “I still need it baby, you can have any other one of mine,” He smiles kindly at you, eyebrow arching sympathetically when he feels you bite on the inside of your cheek.

“Of course, amour,” You clear your throat, pushing the stack of toiletries into his chest, before writhing out of the sweater and pulling it over your head, not caring if more odd chunks of your hair had fallen out of the claw clip you had carelessly attached to the strands, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mon ange,” He chuckles when you huff and swap out the items in his hands for the sweater, “I’ll be back in an hour or so, d'accord?” He slips on the article, pulling at the sleeves and adjusting the hood, then taking your face in his palms once again to pull you closer and press his lips against your forehead.

You hum, leaning into his touch, “À toute à l'heure,” You mutter, twisting your head so that you can peck the inside of his hand.

Truthfully, you wanted to jump on his back and order that he take you with him, not wanting to feel the absence of his sunny presence. But you were aware how much he valued his time with his friends, despite his many objections to your conclusion, so reluctantly you waited until you heard the muted click of the electronic lock of the front door before you continued to re-set your beloved home.

“Je suis à la maison mon amour!” Charles calls out, toeing off his shoes by the door before walking further into the apartment.

“I’m over here!” You call out from your own office, the door slightly ajar, you hear him hum before the tell-tale squeak of the hinges to the foyer bathroom screeches through the hallway, followed by the kitchen tap running. Soon enough, he stepped into the carpeted area of your office, setting down the tall glass of water and a singular pill.

“For your headache mon ange,” He came behind your chair, resting his chin on your shoulder whilst running his hand through your damp hair.

Though to most, it would seem that Charles was being your lovable drug dealer, always managing to drop the singular brightly coloured pill to the side of you whilst petting your head wistfully. When in fact, he knew that after an hour or two of working, your temples would begin to throb mercilessly and you required your prescription, that many were not aware of.

You relaxed in his embrace, your once pin straight spine became slack and your clenched jaw felt numb with his attention, “Thank you, baby.” You twisted your neck, pressing your lips against the scruff on his cheek.

“Are you wearing another one of my sweaters?” He asked, pulling away to rotate your spinning chair so that he could step back and asses your outfit, long black flare leggings with another one of his sweaters. This one, he had ordered from a fan’s etsy account, a large grey body with a small, illustrated version of this season’s current car along with his autograph and name, printed below it.

“You said that I could,” You mumbled inwardly, pulling at the long drawstring that lay on your chest, “I’m not taking it off,” You pouted, tucking your knees beneath fabric so that only your head and red painted toes were visible from beneath the hem.

“And you don’t have to,” He pinched your cheek adoringly, coming to his knees in front of you, so that you were looking down at him from your “dough-ball” position, “But I had bought you a matching one to this, wouldn’t it be easier to just, wear that one? Juste?”

You pushed your mouth into the collar of your sweatshirt, your answer muffled by the thick fabric.

“What was the ange?” Charlese brings his ear closer to your mouth, or what would be your mouth if you would bring it out of your clothes.

“Smells like you…” You admit, eyes wide and unblinking as you wait for Charles to pull away, most likely thinking that you’re weird.

“It does?” He moves his head lower, sniffing the hoodie, “I don’t think so?”

“Yeah, well obviously you don’t think so!” You exclaim, allowing your legs to fall out of the hoodie and popping your mouth out once again. He widens his eyes at your outburst, taking in your teary lashes and wobbling lip, “Baby...”

“I only wear your stuff because I know that you’re busy…” You admit, looking away from his annoyingly understanding expression, “I’m not your only priority and this way-“ you move your arms up, showing off the baggy attire, “I can be close to you even when you don’t necessarily want to be close to me.” You conclude, wrapping your oversized arms around your torso, “And for the record, you smell like caramel and copper.” You add haughtily, up turning your nose.

“Really?” He asks innocently. You nod, one choppy movement before you harrumph and look away from his entertained face.

“Baby. you’re right, you aren’t my only priority. But you’re my first priority. And who said I don’t want to be with you?” He pats your knee, signalling for you to stand so that he can wrap his hands around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “I love you, my baby, and I’m sorry that you had to resort to wearing my clothes instead of just asking me to stay with you.” He kisses the crown of your head, inhaling the pungent smell of your cranberry conditioner.

“I don’t want you to feel bad!” You pull away from him, scrunching your nose at his guilty expression, “I like your clothes, they’re comfortable and I can’t possibly ask you to stay with me 24/7?”

“You can!” He insists, squeezing you ardently, “You’re my fiancé, and about to be my wife, you’re meant to be able to ask me. Because I will always say yes. No matter what.”

“Charles...”

“Amour” He mimics your scolding tone.

“You’re so busy my love, I can’t do that.” You nuzzle your head into his chest, making him laugh at your antics.

“You can-“ He takes your cheeks in his hands, squeezing them together so that your lips pucker comically, he leans down to leave a wet kiss on your lips, “-and if I don’t get such demands from you, I will be very sad.” He pouts down at you.

You sigh, “hmkay.” You manage to speak through your forced pucker, furrowing your brows with concentration. You knew he was merely humouring you, cajoling you like a child so that you would do as he asked, but hey, it was a good enough reason to do exactly what you wanted.

“Mia dolce bambina, così adorabile, non vedo l'ora che tu diventi mia moglie, forse allora non ti sentirai in colpa per avermi dedicato il mio tempo.” He continues to press his lips against yours, making you giggle.

“charmles, too much ithalian,” You lisp through your cheeks whilst squeezing your eyes together, accepting his affection happily.

“Too much Italian? In quale altro modo potrei dirti quanto voglio che tu occupi tutto il mio tempo senza che tu ti allontani da me? Mia timida bambolina, continuerò a ricoprirti del mio amore finché non potrai accettarlo in abbondanza."He grins at you cheekily, watching as you translate it slowly in your mind.

“Babe...” You whine, managing to wriggle free from his grip on your cheeks to hide your face in the crook of his neck whilst wrapping your forearms around him.

“You can have all of my sweatshirts baby, and all of me” He whispers, raking his hands through your hair.

“I love you,” You breathe out in reply, kissing the skin on his neck.

“I love you too.”

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion available...over

📻 Kchh...french....to english....over

Mon amour - My love

Amour - love

Mon Ange - my angel

d’accord - All right

À toute à l'heure - See you later

je suis à la maison, mon amour - I’m home, my love

Juste - Right

📻 Kchh...italian....to english....over

Mia dolce bambina, così adorabile, non vedo l'ora che tu diventi mia moglie, forse allora non ti sentirai in colpa per avermi dedicato il mio tempo. - My sweet little girl, so adorable, I can't wait for you to become my wife, maybe then you won't feel guilty for taking up my time.

In quale altro modo potrei dirti quanto voglio che tu occupi tutto il mio tempo senza che tu ti allontani da me? Mia timida bambolina, continuerò a ricoprirti del mio amore finché non potrai accettarlo in abbondanza. - How else could I tell you how much I want you to take up all my time without you shying away from me? My shy little doll, I will continue to shower you with my love until you can accept it in abundance.

📻 Kchhhhh.loosing sign....al.....kcchh....over and out...

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kiyoomi-levin · 4 months

Text

Morning Routine [nsfw]

(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)

a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!

summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you. warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing> word count:: 1.9k

6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads.

He doesn’t even need an alarm now.

Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper.

Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still.

In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them.

6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient.

I should stop.

There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you.

There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him.

Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief.

Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly.

He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all.

Until he met you.

In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you.

He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate.

More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning.

Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today.

No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.

Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin.

Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body.

When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago.

You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down.

He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always.

It’s always exactly what he needs.

God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good.

Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.

He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off.

He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer.

Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results.

The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off.

“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.

“Bad sleep? Rough morning?”

Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately.

“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”

With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning.

You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms...

He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you!

You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.

Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy.

Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.

He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway.

There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.

This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.

Unfortunately, he was also scared.

He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university.

Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right.

But he only wanted you.

Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish.

Fine then.

He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month.

Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause.

In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you.

Obviously none were taken by him!

Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries.

This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum.

None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities.

Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done.

He wants to finish with you so bad.

He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–

but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters.

It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price.

You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.

He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.

That’s enough.

He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!”

Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs.

“Fuck!”

He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop.

Thank God we came together.

Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going.

He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.

6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.

Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.

Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you.

Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours.

Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know.

The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…

Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him.

And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent.

Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you.

As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.

“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?

As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu wakatoshi #hq wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader

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glitterjay · 19 days

Note

i need fan!reader x idol!enha smut.. im having thoughts about it 24/7 and idk why but i need it so bad 🙏

⭒ fan!reader x idol!enhypen, semi suggestive content under cut, mdni

⭒ c's note: keeping it short but i will definitely make a longer series for each member individually

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin (slots are open, hehe)

idol!heeseung who:

gives his all during dance practices and music shows knowing his expressions and way of moving turn you on

flirts with engene during lives knowing it pisses you off

takes you backstage for a quickie before a concert and purposely asks you to mark his neck / chest

idol!jay who:

loves the idea of calling you mid practice to show you how hard the thought of fucking you in front of the mirrors got him

makes out with you between shows or schedules and calls it his good luck charm

sneaks in and fucks you dumb in the waiting rooms when his members are doing their respective photoshoots

idol!jake who:

manspreads during lives on purpose, smiling at your needy messages that light up his phone

gets excited at the possibility of both of you getting caught in action

begs you to suck him off anywhere at any time because he's been stressed and he needs you soooo bad

idol!sunghoon who:

loves making you sit on his lap in the waiting rooms, covering your legs with a blanket to buck his hips up once in a while

touches your legs with his under the table at fansigns

looks for you in the crowd at a concert to stare you down with hungry eyes

if you'd like me to write about something in specific feel free to use my ask! and kindly check out this post before sending anything <3

#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #engene #kpop #kpop smut #hard hours #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #heeseung smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut

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cheriladycl01 · 4 months

Text

The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader - Part 2

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!

Credit to macrazylive for the GIF

The interview was good, everyone was really kind to you and your PR team made sure that the questions were only about racing which was nice as you really got to talk about the teams and cars with the others there.

There was a joke that you were being ganged up on as there was two Ferrari drivers sat next to each other, the two Mercedes drivers sat next to each other and then there you were sat in the middle with Lewis and Carlos either side of you.

"So Y/N what more can we expect from you in 2022? We've got Saudi Arabia next weekend that I'm sure you are excited for it" he says and both Carlos and Lewis look at you as you raise the mic.

"Jeddah is one of the toughest tracks on the line up this year in my opinion. I just hope i can make my team proud and i can finish the race with some more points for them!" you smile settling a hand down on your lap.

"And Lewis as a World Champion do you have anything to say to the new rookie this year that will inspire her in her future career"

"Jheez man, you out here making me sound so much older than her! But listen you'll always here people talk about the car and driver. Sometimes the car and driver are on the same level, sometimes the car is better than the driver and sometimes the driver is better than the car. And i think today proved that Y/N is already out-performing in her Alfa Romeo and I think all the team principles will be keeping an eye on her throughout the year. Keep driving the way you are, and you know where to find me whenever you wanna talk" he smiles at you, he leans into you hugging you slightly making you blush and smile at the contact.

After the conference it was a shamble getting you back to the hotel. PR had pulled you out early while the other in the interview stayed behind a little. You hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye before you were whisked out to multiple fans. You stayed to sign stuff with Zhou who had kindly waited for you so you could go back to the hotel together.

You and Zhou knew there was no point going home or going to the factory when in a week you had to travel across the short flight to Saudi Arabia. Monday you and him went to the water park in Bahrain for the whole day. After that you guys flew to Jeddah on the Tuesday readying for the week ahead.

You had a good qualifying coming in P8 and you were happy that you were starting in a points worthy place. You'd reported to your team that something felt wrong with the car, its pace just wasn't as good today and you were told that the overnight engineers would take a look for you.

It was getting late and you should be sleeping, but you just couldn't seem to shut your eyes. The nerves of tomorrow eating away at you. It was about 11pm when you decided to throw a hoodie on and walk down to the hotel bar.

The elevator music was soft and you checked you phone, thinking it probably wasn't the best thing to upload a photo to show everyone you were currently awake right now.

You walked out and sat down at the 24 hour bar, only a few people were there, not that you took much notice of the people around you.

"Got anything to knock me out?" you ask the bar tender who looks at you in shock.

"Rough night?" he asks.

"No, just struggling to sleep" you smile lightly.

"Well if you don't like cherry juice or Chamomile tea I have some bricks out back that may help" he laughs out his offers trying to lighten your mood.

"Cherry juice?" you ask having never heard that it was a drink for helping sleep.

"I dunno, but it works!" he defends before you shake your head opting for the tea.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" a voice asks and you turn seeing Lewis steps up behind you. He opens his arms gesturing to the seat next to you.

"Oh, Lewis hi. This is so embarrassing. Sorry you have to see me like this. You can sit, only if you want to though" you smiled at him.

"Thanks. I cant sleep either" he's smiles at you before flagging the bartender and asking to have what your having.

"I think I'm just nervous about tomorrow"

"Yeah, i get that! You have a lot of pressure on you as a rookie! But your are one of the best rookies we've had for years! Qualifying was good today! Keep that smile up" he smiles at you placing a hand gently on your shoulder.

"What's going on here?" a voice behind you asks. You and Lewis both swivel to find Carlos standing there at the entrance to the bar watching there pair of you with narrowed eyes.

"Carlos! What are you doing awake?" you ask in shock, even Lewis being down here was a shock to you.

"More like what are you doing down here?" he frowns.

"I couldn't sleep, and then Lewis was down here so he joined me!" you smile, and point to the seat on the other side of you. He takes it and shimmies into the seat, waving the bartender off when he offers a drink.

"So, what are you also doing awake?"

"I also couldn't sleep, I've got a lot on my mind" he says looking over the pair of them.

"So, how do you think tomorrow will go?" Carlos asks trying to run a conversation but the vibes were awkward after his arrival. He'd stood watching them talk for a little before he had made his presence known.

"She doesn't want to talk about it" Lewis huffs out sipping on some of his drink.

"Oh i didn't realise she didn't have a voice anymore" Carlos sasses, making you shake your head an push away from the bar so you chair scrapped back, enough for you to hop down.

"I'm going to go try and sleep, i can practically smell the testosterone overload and that tea has made me far to dopey to have any clarity of this tomorrow" you admit and with that you left the two along who stayed for a little longer ... to talk.

Race day was always fun, however this year Saudi wasn't your shot. You wanted to cry when you heard the words to come back to the pit because your car had a cooling system failure and it was a danger to drive meaning you'd gone from 8 all the way down to 15.

You had spent a significant amount of time crying in your drivers room, before you went out to congratulate Zhou on his P11 finish. He hugged you and told you reassuring phrases that sort of went past you head because you were worried you were about to get butchered by your team principle Alessandro.

You didn't want to do the interviews, knowing there would be derogatory comments coming your way, but it was something you had to put up with.

"So Y/N not your best rest today" the interviewer asked the minute you walked up to them.

"Yeah, unfortunately there was a cooling system errors in three of the cars out there tonight and mine was one of them. I reported to my team that the car didn't feel right yesterday during qually, so I don't know if that was what happened out there but yeah pace was slow, car was faulty not much else to report. Hoping for a comeback in Australia but congrats to Max, Charles and Carlos for the podiums!" you smile trying to make it as quick and painless.

"Thank you for your time!" he smiles politely before letting you wonder off across the paddock.

"Carlos! Carlos Hey" you shout over to him and see his and Charles head whip round to look at you.

You run up to them, placing a hand on Charles shoulder that doesn't go un-noticed by Carlos.

"Well done on the podium today guys!" you smile, trying not to show your sadness at the lack of points you'd gained today.

"Thank you Y/N! You know, were you invited to the after party today?" Charles offers first before Carlos can even thank you.

"Oh, no I wasn't told. But I don't really like clubs so ..." you admit sheepishly.

"It's not really a party, just dinner with us, Lando, Daniel Yuki and Pierre" he offers.

"Could i bring Zhou with me?" you ask knowing you were closest to him right now and getting through a dinner with that many people, you'd for sure need him them.

"Of course!" Charles exclaims.

"I'll see you guys tonight then?" you smile before walking off to go tell Zhou the good news.

A/N: Next part is going to be this cute ass dinner, should there be any interruptions from any other drivers? Or should it be kind of a private thing?

Taglist

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x y/n

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hoyoversenews · 7 days

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subscribe to my telegram - t.me/AratakaBattleBeetlesItto o((>ω< ))o

#genshin impact #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette fanart #fanart #art #genshin fanart #my art #kindly check out their music!!!!

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teenidlegirl · 2 months

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꣑୧ ݁.﹒ bodyguard!miguel 𝓍 popstar!reader .ᐟ

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ bodyguard!au, sfw, fluff, mutual pining

( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ i’ve been thinking about this trope for months! i tried to write a series but i didn’t have a plot, failed miserably, so here are some headcanons instead! ♡

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who is hired as your personal bodyguard when you started your career. he is attached to your hip, always at your side at all times, ensuring your safety.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who attends to every event. concerts, music video shoots, photoshoots, award ceremonies, meet and greets, interviews.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who either stands in front row or backstage to the side while you preform. when he’s standing backstage, he smiles as you perform, mesmerized by your stage presence. your vocals always impress him every time. when he strands in front row, he’ll sneak glances at you. sometimes you’ll make eye contact, making you both bashful messes.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who holds your hand behind your back so no one can see, giving gentle reassuring squeezes when you feel nervous. whispers of praises in your ear. “you got this, reinita. you’ll be amazing como siempre.”

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who makes sure the paparazzi fuck off with his famous glare. shielding you with an arm, while the other blocks any idiot who tries getting close to you. he hates the paparazzi with a burning passion. how annoying it must be for people to follow and take millions of pictures of you when you’re just trying to go on about your day like grab a coffee.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who stands off to the side while you shoot music videos or photoshoots, observing while checking surroundings.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who can’t help but feel a bit jealous when you’re hanging out with a male model or actor during a shoot. on the outside, he seems like his usual calm, alerted self but inside there’s a little sting in his heart as he watches you laughing and smiling at the guy. he knows he shouldn’t feeling like this, seems unprofessional but his heart says otherwise sadly.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who carries gifts given by fans when your hands are too full with other gifts or signing autographs during meets and greets. sometimes you worry that you’ll overload him but he reassures you it’s fine. the man has big beefy arms, he can handle several bouquet of flowers, cards, and handmade gifts. you thank him every time and he smiles at you in return.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who ensures there is space between you and the sea of fans. he may be a little overprotective (even tho that’s his job) when a fan or a group of them stand a bit too close to you that he kindly asks them to move back a little. he just doesn’t want you to feel cramped up or overwhelmed by the proximity. little did he know how that small gesture makes your heart flutter, how caring he is and you appreciate it.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who fails to hide his smile when he observes you interacting with your fans. how kind and caring you are to them. the hugs you give them. taking selfies, sometimes he’ll take a picture of you and your fan(s) if asked to. you take your time with them, having cute conversations. some fans will get emotional and you comfort them to the fullest. his heart melts.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who tries his best to conceal the blush on his face when you wear outfits that hug your curves so graciously. you look beautiful in everything but in those outfits, a goddess. you always ask for his input and he automatically answers “you look incredible, mariposa.”

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who is dressed in all black, dress shirt, slacks, and blazer as he accompanies you on the red carpet. he stands off to the side while photographers snap million pictures of you and you talk with interviewers, admiring you. sometimes he has to look away from the rapid camera flashes cause it hurts his eyes.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who gets flustered when an interviewer asks you if you and him are dating, considering how close you two are, indicating that it’s more than an usual bodyguard and client relationship. his anxiety decreases when you shake your head but his heart skips a beat when you refer to him as your best friend and how important he is to you. the interviewers go berserk and demand more answers after you walk away, flashing a smile at him.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who starts thinking about his feelings towards you, realizing he slowly falling for you. however, he can’t because it will complicate your relationship. he shouldn’t be falling for his client, a popstar at that.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel whose heart skips a beat when you reciprocate those feelings during a rainy night in your apartment. you confess that you see him more than a bodyguard, how important he is in your life. from that moment on, a lovely relationship blossomed.

˖ ࣪ . ꣑୧ ⊹ — bodyguard!miguel who is not only your personal bodyguard but also your supportive and caring boyfriend. he continues to do his job but no longer has to hide his feelings. he adores his popstar girlfriend. he is your number one fan.

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓗𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 .ᐟ #bodyguard!miguel #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #headcanons #bodyguard au

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dearsnow · 10 months

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NO PROMISES

- just as you’re settling down, hobie takes you out for the night. (hobie brown x gn!reader, fluff)

word count: 1129

a/n - this is for my very good friend @literally-hobie as part of a trade we did :) go give them all my love!!

The night is a relaxing one. You have your music playing as you relax on your bed, inhaling the crisp midnight air. The gentle rhythm of your breathing matches the song’s saccharine melody and the plushies next to you smile kindly at your figure. You are completely embraced by your calm sheets, until a sudden noise causes you to shoot up.

It’s a fast rapping at your window, like knuckles covered in fabric. You move to open it, staring directly into the eyes of your official-but-not boyfriend.

“Hobie!” You hiss. “You can’t be here. My parents are asleep in the next room over, and I seriously can’t be caught with you at,” you check your phone, “12:32 AM.” Your voice is rapt with hushed concern. “What do you need?”

He tilts his head lazily, like sticking to your windowsill is the easiest thing in the world. “I jus’ thought it would be cool to have some fun tonight. Hidden concert and all that. It starts in like ten minutes, but we don’t gotta be early.” Oh, it is so like him to do this sort of thing. You bite the inside of your cheek as you weigh your options. Though it’s not the safest idea, there’s nothing that you and him can’t handle. You don’t really have anything better to do anyways, and despite the late hour, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime.

“...Alright, just don’t get me killed on the way over.” He grins, and the sight makes your heart skip a beat.

“I can’t promise you anything. Nothing is ever certain.” He says, eyes sparkling and motioning for you to follow him.

You climb out your window carefully, helped by Hobie’s rough hands and gentle touch. He keeps a secure hold on your waist, sending butterflies flitting through your stomach. He always manages to fluster you, no matter the situation.

He pulls you up, slinging a web up to your roof and setting you down upon the shingles. The view atop the world is the sweetest thing you’ve seen in a long while- excluding Hobie, of course. Stars twinkle overhead, fully visible and bright. You take a deep breath, smelling the hints of wet leaves and a touch of smoke.

“Shall we?” Hobie asks. As you nod, he swiftly picks you up and swings away without even a hint of effort.

Your heart flutters at the sudden weightless feeling, causing you to release a breathy laugh. You’ll never get used to flying through the air, no matter how many times he takes you swinging. Utter exhilaration courses through your veins as Hobie takes you from building to building until you finally reach the concert venue.

It’s set in a run-down old building that looks like it hasn’t had a roof for centuries. It must’ve been an office building or something, judging by the size of the ground floor. The walls are blown through, with many entrances and exits for quick escapes. Dozens of people are milling around the area, and all of them look extremely pumped. There are zero security guards, just how Hobie likes it.

As soon as he sets you down, right in front of the unstable looking makeshift stage, a drum beat starts. It’s followed by a guitar riff and the screaming of fans. Hobie slides an arm through yours and peers at your face, illuminated by the flashing stage lights. He’s never seen anything as amazing in his life.

The music gets your heart pumping as the band appears on stage, the melodies familiar yet nothing you have ever heard before. In every way, this night reminds you of Hobie.

“Like what you hear?” He all-but shouts into your ear, trying to be heard over the screams and rhythm. You smile wider than you’ve smiled in a long, long time as you nod. He seems satisfied as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

The music lasts about an hour, which is way too short in your opinion. Everyone else seems to agree, but it seems the band members have other places to be. Hobie pulls you aside as you walk out of the building, buzzing with excitement.

“Pretty nice, huh? I dig their commentary on the corruption of our current political system.” His voice is raspy as he stares at you. He always maintains eye contact, something you’ve noticed as you spend more time with him. He has a smile on his face, seeming to be genuinely happy. You’re so, so glad you went on this little adventure with him. Even if it was the worst experience of your life (which it definitely wasn’t), just seeing his smile would make everything worth it.

You smile back. “I loved it. You should take me out more often,” You tease, grabbing his arm. He lets out a quiet laugh, tipping his head back and staring the night dead in its eyes.

“We havta do this again. I follow the punk scene, so there’ll prolly be another show here in a few days. Would ya want to go with me?” His breath forms clouds in the cold night air, and you shiver a little bit.

“Of course, Hobie. Just warn me in advance.” You quip.

“Again, no promises.” He grins. “C’mon, there’s still night left. Let’s chill.”

He leads you away from the venue and down a street, making a game out of kicking pebbles and twigs. A laugh bubbles up from your chest as he kicks a rock so hard it dents an abandoned metal trash can. Damn, being Spider-Man really has its perks. When you finally reach the end of the road, you see a little set up of pillows and lights between two buildings and an overhang.

You take a step forward hesitantly. “Did you set this up?”

“Yeah, I figured it might be nice to have a place to ourselves.” He shrugs. There’s a sparkle of excitement flitting around in his eyes.

“Cool.” You breathe. He motions for you to sit down, and you comply.

Before you know it, he’s hanging from the overhand, face-to-face with you upside down. You laugh as his breath tickles your face. You know exactly what he’s asking for.

Your touch ghosts over his face, and you press your lips to his. You’ve kissed him before, but this is something new and exciting, something straight out of a comic book. It feels electric. His lips are a brushstroke of warmth against a soft canvas.

When you finally pull away, he is breathless like he just finally figured out how to be alive.

“We should do that again.” Hobie smirks, eyes gently peering into yours. The string lights overhead shimmer with a newfound glory.

“I would love to,” You whisper, smiling, “but no promises.”

#solar eclipse.#hobie brown atsv #hobie brown x reader #hobie headcanons #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie x you #atsv hobie #hobart brown #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #atsv #across the spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fic

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sebsxphia · 10 months

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gentle, rough and loving.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett abbott’s aftercare is the final piece to the puzzle you need.

￫ word count: 2.5K.

￫ music: listen to the incredible and beautiful playlist made by @laracrofted for this fic here! 💽

￫ c/w: endings of smut, endings of BDSM/rough sex, mentions of BDSM, rope, derogatory language used towards reader, one mention of no previous aftercare in previous relationships, sub space, soothing injuries, kissing, swearing, rhett giving you proper aftercare, rhett being an absolute sweetheart and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: i’m dedicating this piece to the wonderfully talented @lewmagoo. their writing is absolutely phenomenal, and what always gets me most, is the beautiful aftercare that they write. therefore, this piece was born! please kindly check out their writing, i cannot recommend it enough! <3 i hope you enjoy! <3 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Gentle, rough and loving are the three words you would use to describe what it felt like to make love to Rhett Abbott. He had your face pushed down with one hand, onto the hard and cold floorboards of your living room floor. His other hand was gripping at your hip so hard, you knew his fingertips would leave bruises. Yet, the hand that was pressed on your face had his fingers curling round to the rise of your cheek, so the wooden floorboards wouldn’t hurt too much. The hand on your hip worked to steady your wrecked frame, so you would never fall forward and hurt your neck.

He had secured your wrists tightly together with some rope. The rope itself wasn’t some tattered and fraying rope that he had found in his barn, no. Rhett had insisted that he purchased proper bondage rope. Your safety was of the upmost importance to him, regardless that he was treating you like a common whore in this very moment. He used his extensive, and ever growing knowledge of cowboy knots, to tie your wrists together and let them rest on the arch of your back. It was the perfect centre of gravity so that you wouldn’t topple over when his thrusts became particularly rough.

At the beginning of your relationship, before any rougher type of sex had occurred, you explained to Rhett your prior experience of aftercare with previous partners was, minimal, to say the least. It was during the quiet confines of your shared bed during one moonlit night. You remember the look on his face, shadowed gently by the moonlight filtering in through your lacy curtains. His face contorted into hard lines above his eyebrows, yet his eyes still wore a soft and loving gaze for you. He was both angry beyond belief that no one would take care of you like that, and deeply consoling to your fears and hurt.

“I promise you, I’ll never let that happen to you, m’love. You’re safe with me. I hope y’ can come to trust me, in time.”

He understood that he had to earn that trust from you in time, and he made a promise to himself that gentle night that he would.

A year later and Rhett had kept his promise.

After the scene was over and he came down from his own ecstasy inducing high, the word loving, was about to replace the word rough. He could still hear your faint whimpers that escaped your mouth in time with your body twitching from your heightened sensitivity. With heightened caution, he slowly slipped his fingers out from under your cheek to allow for your face to gently meet the floorboards. His other hand still had a hold on your hips to steady you, but his moved his fingertips an inch upwards so he wouldn’t press down on the particularly sore points. His hand from your face traveled over the base of your skull, along your spine in your neck and dipped in between your shoulder blades. This was when you first registered his voice.

“Darlin’, can y’ feel that? Feel my hand on your neck?” You let out a small grunt in response. You had intended it to be a hum in agreement, but with lack of water it distorted your voice. He understood your tone none the less and made a mental note to get you water as soon as he was able. He continued to trace your spine with his hand until he reached your tied wrists. He was allowing you to feel his gentle touch, to remind you that his far rougher touch was finished now. His fingertips reached your bound wrists and you heard him speak again.

“I’m goin’ un-tie your wrists now, darlin’. I won’t let y’ go, I promise.” He worked his set of fingers nimbly to un-tie the knots. He only ever used knots that were quick and easy to un-tie, especially with one hand. As you felt the rope be pulled out from underneath your wrists like a table cloth off a table, your wrists went limp and they slid down your hips. Rhett was quick to grasp onto them to allow your centre of gravity to stay. You huffed out a groan that he could only register as, exhaustion.

He made another mental note. “Your poor back and wrists, they must be so sore. Cream, after water.”

“Shh, m’love. I know, I know. I’m goin’ turn you over now, okay?” The hand on your hip guided you down to the floor and then slid round to your belly, to turn you around to face him. The gentle hold on your wrists let go momentarily before he gathered them back in his hand to rest on your stomach. He had you turned over and now sat in his lap, as he sat on the floor. He had one hand resting in between your shoulder blades, allowing him to hold you up right and see your face. Your cheeks were flushed a rosy red, with tear stains tracking down your flesh. Your eyes were drooping and completely glazed over, and you wore a cock drunk, lopsided smile.

He was proud that he could fuck you so good that you would end up as a wreck like this, but that was done now. It was now his responsibility to be gentle and loving with you, and take care of you.

“Can you tell me your name?” Rhett avoided using any pet names that would be used during a scene like that, as to not push you into subspace any further.

“Bambi?” You croaked out with your eyebrows furrowing slightly. His lips quirked up in the corner of his mouth, but he kept it hidden from you.

“That’s not your name right now. Can y’ tell me your name?”

Your brow furrowed deeper and you inhaled a shaky breath. Your glazed over eyes scanned his face and he felt a wave of relief when he saw your eyes crinkle in the corners ever so slightly. It was a tell tale sign that you were coming back around and you remembered Rhett as your lover and someone who was safe, to you. You called out your own name and he placed a softening kiss to your forehead with praise.

“Atta’ girl.” He beamed in delight. “That’s your name ‘nd I’m here to take care of y’ now, okay, darlin’?” You nodded in response and removed your hands from his to grab onto the collar of his plaid shirt. You buried your face into his neck, letting your cheeks scratch over his stubble and your nose inhale his familiar scent, grounding you further.

“Rhett, Rhett, Rhett…” You mumbled incoherently into his flesh.

He smiled to himself and moved his hand to cradle your head. “That’s right, sweetheart. It’s me, you’re safe now. I’m gon’ take y’ upstairs ‘nd get y’ cleaned up, okay?”

You nodded against his shoulder and let him scoop you up under your thighs, allowing himself to get off his knees and cradled you next to his torso. He carried you up the stairs to your shared bedroom, letting you down softly onto the mattress below. He shed his own plaid shirt and instructed you to sit up briefly. He guided your arms into the sleeves and wrapped it around your bare chest, noticing you were shivering slightly. You held tightly onto his biceps as he pulled away from you. There was a look in your eyes, a pleading desperation for Rhett not to leave you. He recognized it instantly and reassured you within a second.

“I jus’ need to get y’ some water and ointment first, m’love. I’m gon’ be ten seconds.” He pressed another praising kiss to your forehead. Your glazed over eyes looked almost tearful and it caused his stomach to drop through the floor. It teared at his heartstrings, knowing that you entrusted him so deeply like this.

You watched as he left your bedroom, with the glass from your nightstand in his hand. You kept your eyes intently focused on the doorway and awaited for his return from the bathroom. You heard the faucet running and the pipes shaking throughout the rest of your home. When he returned, you held out your hand, as to beckon him for his reassuring presence. He squatted down by the bedside and handed you the glass. He reached up to brush the hair out of your eyes, looking up at you with a prideful smile when you gulped down the soothing liquid within seconds.

“I’ll get y’ another glass in a bit. Can I have your wrists first, please?”

Rhett was well aware of the fuzzy headspace that you could be in. Regardless of the stage, he understood that you may be unable to communicate back to him. Therefore, asking for your permission, or telling you what he was doing was always first on his mind.

You held out your wrists and let him take them delicately into his own hands. His calloused fingertips had always been rough, since the day you met him, but somehow, when they were drawing over your skin it seemed as though it was a featherlight and tender touch. You adored how your rough and tough cowboy, could be so gentle and loving.

He moved the ointment over your wrists and asked you to sit up next so he could soothe your aching back. He could feel your eyes fixated on him the whole time. You were tracing and following his every move. But he knew it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, it was because you were finally receiving the proper aftercare that you deserved and you wanted to burn it into your memory forever. He could feel how your body was keening into his loving touch, with every simple swipe and stroke of the cooling ointment. When his fingertips ran over your wrist, he could sense your pulse coming back to a resting rate, which pleased him greatly.

When the pain points that he was aware of were covered, he moved onto your needs that you perhaps hadn’t yet communicated to him.

“Darlin’, can y’ tell, or point, to any other parts that hurt, please?” You out stretched your finger to point at your knees and he let out a quiet chuckle to himself. “Of course. I’m not surprised, y’ took me s’ well, sweetheart.”

He moved up and onto the bed, and caught your gaze in the process. Your eyes had lit up and sparkled brightly at his sweet praise. Your mouth was parted with an anticipated smile.

“I— I did?”

Your fingers twiddled with one another in your lap. He recognized how your body language shifted and the look you wore on your face. You were asking for praise and reassurance, something that you had never had prior.

“Oh, m’love,” he scooted up to where you sat against the headboard. He knelt next to you and took your face in his hands again. “You did incredible for me. I’m s’ proud of you. You’re such a good bunny for me.” He leaned down to gingerly press a kiss to your cheek but your lips met his instead. You hovered mere millimeters away from his lips and you swore you could’ve felt a zap! of electricity connect you both. You felt his warm breath fan over your lips and you gazed up at him through your lashes.

He swallowed thickly and his voice got caught in his throat. “Can I kiss you, darlin’?”

“Please, Rhett.” You breathlessly pleaded. He leaned in to meet your lips and your body almost went limp against his. The first loving kiss that came after a particularly rough fucking, was always the final piece to the puzzle. Like clockwork, you came back around and you were now fully understanding of your surroundings and who you were with. You were with your Rhett, who was gentle, rough and loving.

He pulled away, with you both letting out a small gasp at the sudden contact of air. He held your gaze for a couple of moments longer. He loved the way how you keened into his touch, how you were moving your face to press your cheeks harder against his large hands.

“Let me finish taking care of your knees, ‘nd then I’ll cuddle up close to you, okay?” You nodded in his hold and let him slip away, back down to your legs.

Moments later your body was smoothed out with the ointment, you had another glass of water down you and you had been moved back into Rhett’s arms. He’d pulled out your old laptop from underneath your bed to watch something easy, alongside some emergencies snacks for occasions such as these.

He had taken his plaid shirt off you at your request. You wanted to feel the ever comforting feeling of skin on skin contact. He was sat back against the headboard with you in between his legs. His broad and toned thighs were locking around you and keeping you protected. His hands ran up and down your arms in soothing strokes, and sketched out mindless shapes on your flesh. He occasionally dipped into the snack you had in your hand to feed you one or feed himself, which always earned a giggle from you.

“Do y’ want a bath after this, darlin’? I’ll give y’ a proper massage too, the lavender oil and everythin’.”

Your head rolled back into the crook of his neck and onto his shoulder. You let out a satisfied hum and looked upwards towards Rhett. Your hands moved to cradle the back of his skull and toy with the lick of hairs at the base of his neck. He craned his face down to catch your satisfied, yet still drooping gaze.

“Please, lover.” You paused for a second and sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. “You’re s’ gentle, rough and loving to me.”

If your hand was on his chest right now, you’d be able to feel his heart beating in double time. So fast, it could burst right through his chest. Your trust was solidified in Rhett and it made his heart feel as though there was a bed of wildflowers blooming inside of him.

“Anythin’ for you, m’love. I’ll always take care of you.”

“I’ll always take care of you too, cowboy.”

Your own statement was as true as his. After a particularly rough ride and having his knees scraped and his shoulder pushed out of his socket, you would be there. Your hands would roughly grip at his chest and shoulder to pop the bone back in its place, but your hands would turn gentle as you pressed the cotton pad to his bloodied knees. You would lovingly run your hands through his hair as he lay with his cheek pressed on your bare chest, when the exhaustion would wrack his body entirely.

You loved and cared so deeply for each other, that you both knew no one would, or could, ever match that.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @randomfandomgirl97

tagging who maybe be interested: @sunblchdfly @bradshawsbitch @rhettabbotts @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloyds @peachystenbrough @sugarcoated-lame @sushiwriterhere

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rillils · 3 months

Note

how do explain stucky from the moment they met to where they are now (together in each others arms) to my friend who knows nothing about marvel

ohh this is a tough one, honey! i think i've got two options for you:

the short answer:

stucky is a compendium of all the best tropes out there, and i'm sure i'm gonna miss a few:

soulmates? check! star-crossed lovers? check! battle husbands? super check! mutual pining? check! 'and they were roommates'? check! best friends to lovers? check check check! long-lost lover comes back from the dead? fuck yeah, check! temporary amnesia? check! dude in distress trope? check! 'they will always find each other and choose each other in every lifetime'? also check! identity porn? extra check! saved by the power of love? you guessed it: check! slow burn or childhood sweethearts? you decide!!! did they share their first kiss when steve was 16, as per a popular fanon theory? did they only confess their feelings during the war? did they only get together much later, when bucky was healing in wakanda? you can pick literally ANY point in their timeline, and it will still make sense! they're all equally valid! you can even have multiple different headcanons at once, i mean who's gonna stop you??? all you have to do is join in the fun! 💕

the long AF answer, aka:

STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 1/3

all right, let's set the scene:

imagine two young kids, let's call them steve and bucky. they meet, they immediately take to each other, they become instant besties! and as they grow up together, facing many hardships, their bond deepens. not only are they best friends; they are also each other's family. they take care of each other, and they both know they can always rely on one another in times of need.

when steve's mom (and only remaining relative) passes away, bucky reminds him that he's not as alone in this world as he thinks he is: bucky will always be by his side. bucky will always love him unconditionally, will always be there for him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, and he wants steve to know that.

in fact, he asks steve to move in with him, thus offering steve both a literal and a metaphorical home.

and steve says yes!

SO. they are each other's home, they're living together, they're getting by all right. but then war breaks out, and eventually it reaches their little home as well: bucky is drafted, and steve, due to his many health issues, and despite his best intentions, can't follow the boy he loves onto the battlefield.

it's a very difficult time for them both - so much so that they can't even bring themselves to talk about it.

they have no choice but to say goodbye for now, knowing that they might never see each other again. but here's something you might not know yet about steve: he's the most reckless, most stubborn fucker america's ever seen. he's not gonna let this stop him!!! instead, he goes and gets a very sweet, kindly scientist to fucking experiment on him, because screw it, he's going to fight in this war if it's the last thing he does. and that's how he goes from Smol Steeb to Lorge Premium Steeb.

of course, things don't go exactly as he predicted, and steve is made to be the star of a war propaganda-fuelled musical kinda thingie, which he resents (but he looks fucking precious in his costume)

BUT! he does get closer to the actual battlefield. which is where he discovers that bucky has been captured by the enemy (!!!!!!!) and is most likely dead by now. but steve isn't willing to give up so easily! he'll believe bucky's dead when he sees it with his own eyes. so, he embarks on this suicide solo mission in the attempt to get bucky back, even if it means wandering on his own. into enemy territory. where he would be shot. on. sight. with no protection for his dumb ass except for a bunch of theater props!!! but such is the power of love, y'all.

against all odds, steve finds bucky very much still alive! and as soon as bucky recognizes him, even as confused as he is, he pulls out this beautiful, ecstatic, angelic-ass smile, like he's just seen god or he got high on some real good edibles or maybe both idk, like my man here was having a serious Religious Experience™ you guys

and i just wanna say, they could have totally kissed here and it would have made plenty of sense. but that's true of like 90% of their scenes in this franchise, so *shrugs*

ANYWAY steve takes bucky in his arms (well technically yes he does) and brings him to safety, and on their way there, bucky proves once more just how hard he meant that "with you til the end of the line" from before

afterwards, steve is finally given the chance to fight, just like he wanted.

bucky, on the other hand, could very well leave the war behind and go home; but when he learns that steve is staying, he chooses to stay too, and fight by his side. and he tells steve so in this very intimate, softspoken, delightfully suggestive conversation, which can be summed up like this:

and so they walk right back into the heart of the fight, only this time together, as they were always meant to be!

but. during an especially tricky mission, they're surprised by the enemy, and as a result, bucky falls to his death into a deep ravine.

steve is devastated. overwhelmed with guilt, grief and rage, he vows to bring down the people responsible for his loss, even if it costs him his own life.

and um, it kind of does? cost him his own life?

victorious after his last vis-a-vis with The Antagonist™, steve still chooses to sacrifice himself to prevent the catastrophe set into motion by the aforementioned Antagonist™. he's flying a jet over the frosty expanse of the atlantic, and you know, from the outside, you could easily argue that he could try to save himself. if he really wanted to. but with bucky dead, and the people responsible for all this pain, either dead or captured, it seems like all the will to fight is gone from steve; and so he plunges the jet straight into the ocean, and himself with it.

is this the end of their story?, you might ask.

the answer is: of course not!!!! the best is yet to come, babes!!!

EDIT: here is part 2

#stucky just stucky #personal #stucky #yes this is very dumb but dumb is my middle name lmao #i hope the read more works??????????#are all the pictures even there????#i'm too tired to check agsdjahkasdjk #sorry it took me a while to reply honey!!!!#i hope you're having a fantastic day!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 #the silly stucky recap you didn't ask for #rillers scribbles

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everythingne · 5 months

Text

marketing ploy - ln4 / ch4

miami leads to the perfect 'date', sibling love, and a problem. Some things slot together too perfectly to be ignored, for better or for worse.

piastri!oc x lando norris / fake dating, brothers best friend

warnings/notes: alcohol, mentions of sex, mentions of hypothetical sexual situations, mentions of past loss of virginity (they're not whores guys it makes sense in context), mentions of past cheating, a singular kiss, this might be the longest chapter so far ! A lot of character growth here babes.

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06 MAY -- MIAMI, FLORIDA↴

“Of all places in Miami, I was not expecting Seaspice.” I laugh as Lando pulls up to the lavish white building. I can hear people laughing, girls in flowy sundresses and guys in their best white button downs loosely hanging by the entrance as soft music pulses from some speakers--or maybe a cars stereo. Lando huffs out of his nose, a small amused grin on his lips as he turns and places a hand behind my seat as he looks through the back window while parking, his head occasionally looking back at the backup camera and mirrors. I never knew watching someone park would be hot. I catch myself staring when he pushes the shifter forward to park and looks over a me, his black tee clinging around his frame, gold chains resting against the thin fabric.

“Max told me it was good.” He shrugs, leaning back against his seat and looking out. We’d agreed that our ‘first date’ dinner had to be good food, and I had tasked him with finding it as long as I could dress him and I got to order the most expensive desert.

“You’re trusting Max Verstappen for good food?” I ask, giving him the most incredulous look as I grab my purse form my lap and my phone from under my thigh--texting Ada that we'd arrived as Lando turns off the car. Once I glance back up, he leans over, tucking a hair behind my ear and minding my piercings as he settles it back into place.

“And Shakira.” He murmurs, eyes looking down at my lips before he clears his throat and leans back, grabbing his waller and getting out of the car. I go to open my door after double checking everything is in my puse, only to have it whacked shut, and then reopened by Lando.

“Lesson one,” he says, offering his hand to me as he places another hand on the edge of the door, “if your boyfriend doesn’t open the door for you, break up.”

I laugh wholeheartedly, taking his hand and letting him hide my body as he pulls me to my feet and makes sure my skirt is covering everything. He takes my hand and lets me step aside so he can close the door, lock his car, and then he starts to bring me along to the main entrance.

“Astrid said she’s not calling paparazzi, but she’s expecting fans to be here. So the good ol’ papas might be lingering too.” He says, sliding his sunglasses up as the Miami sun starts to dip under some of the buildings and illuminates us in a golden glow.

“For the love of everything, Lando, don’t call them papas.” I groan, keeping my hold on his hand tight as we stop at the vacant hostess stand. He turns to me with a loose grin and I wrap myself around his arm as I catch a few lingering eyes, might as well sell this as best I can.

"Papas is better than pap, I think."

"Equally terrible." I hum, lifting a hand to fix one of his necklaces thats coiled as the hostess reappears with a big happy smile on her perfectly white teeth, her long blond hair swept in a runway model-esc fashion in the low breeze.

"Do you have a reservation tonight?" She asks sweetly, "if not, it will be around an hour wait."

"We should have one for Norris? Two." Lando says softly, the woman hums, tapping through an iPad before nodding and grabbing a few things behind the counter.

"Ah, wonderful, you guys will be dining with my favorite server Jett tonight! Come with me!" She guides us to a table in a back corner, right along the water. Lando gets my chair, ever the gentleman, and then sits across from me as the hostess kindly explains the menus and specials, then says our server will be there soon with the complimentary champagne.

"I'm popping the champagne. You don't need to break anything else." I say to Lando as soon as the hostess walks away and he doubles over in laughter. The restaurant is beautiful, candle lit with twinkling fariy lights overhead and I cannot picture Max ever wanting to eat here. Then, I spot some LED panel lights and realize this place is also a club at times and it makes a bit more sense as to why Max might've stopped by.

“Oh hush," he swats at my pointing finger and I laugh, his giggle falls into a gasp as he takes his turn to playfully poke at me, "And rule two, your boyfriend should always pull out your chair."

"Why the rules, may I ask?" I hum, making sure my bag is hooked on the chair as I look out over the water briefly. My hand finding my phone to take a quick picture of the sun on the water, as Lando keeps talking. I set my phone down as he speaks, giving him my full attention in the low lighting.

"Oscar told me you'd never been on a proper date," Jackass, I scowl, of course Oscar dimed me out, but my scowl is covered as Lando waves while he talks, "And that you last dated someone in year nine. So, I made it my personal goal to give you the best date ever. I would've bought you flowers too, if I had the time. Gotta set your standards high."

"You've already bought me flowers." I counter.

"Yeah but, I would buy you flowers everyday if I could. If we weren't traveling so much, you would have fresh flowers every time the old ones started to wilt. That's how it should be. It's like twenty pounds for something so gorgeous that makes anyone happy." He explains, but before I can answer, our waiter is setting down two glasses and wiping condensation off a bottle of champagne.

"Hello, lovebirds!" He smiles, cheerily as he pops the bottle into a towel and pours us our drinks. Him calling us lovebirds make my heart pound and my cheeks flush, I hate how easily it makes me feel giddy to be considered Lando’s girlfriend. Jett recites the menu, the specials, and asks if we want any appetizers. We settle on the steak tartare and the burrata, and as our waiter whisks away to give us time to figure out appetizers, I notice Lando lifting his film camera.

"I was wondering when she was gonna make an appearance." I laugh, and he laughs in turn, holding up the camera and I pose as he snaps a picture.

"I need to learn how to develop them myself." He says as he sets the camera on the edge of the table, and I lean over to pull it further into the table so it won't fall.

"I can teach you, I did a lot of photography in school." I hold up my drink, "cheers, to us, for being Formula 1s hottest not-couple."

Lando raises his drink and grins, "and to us, in general, for making this probably the easiest media stunt ever."

We clink the edges of the glasses together before taking sips. Champagne wasn't my favorite, but I had to admit this went down smooth.

“Do they always do champagne at your table?” I ask as I take another sip, “because this shit is so good I might come back for it.”

“They had some weird package thing?” Lando leans back in his seat as he sets his drink down, “I dunno, Astrid booked it through the owner. I think she told him it was a date or something so they’d bring us special shit. Oh, I meant to ask, how was your birthday?”

Lando settles in his chair, his foot knocking my knee as he leans back and props one leg over the other.

“I was so drunk, I do not remember anything after Oscar and I fell into the pool and after, we had a heart to heart.” I laugh and he laughs in turn, cheeks puffed up in a tiny smile. Fake dating Lando was gonna be easy. The conversation flows through us ordering entrees, for me it was the Lobster Risotto (after much convincing that Lando did not care how much it cost) and then he got Wagyu steak (and I forced him to promise to let me try.)

We were halfway down the bottle of champagne when our server, Jett, came back with waters and our appetizers. The food got absolutely devoured as we talked about the upcoming race, how his season was going, and then I got to the one question I'd been dying to figure out.

"Do you know why they think us dating is going to make people think you and Max hate each other?"

"No clue." He finishes off his glass of water as I pop the last of the tartare in my mouth and hum softly.

"Like, unless they plan for you to like break my heart or something. But then that would make like... Charles, Daniel, Oscar, and Max hate you."

"I don't think I would break your heart, even if they told me to." Lando sighs, running a hand through his front curls, the warm breeze rolling across the now dark marina, "I think I'd rather give them all the money back than do that."

"Me too." I finish off whats probably my ninth glass, feeling the wooze in my arms and my legs.

"This might be a fake relationship..." He says, and I watch his cheeks dust pink as he looks into his champagne, taking the rest of it asif for courage before looking up at me, "I'm gonna treat you how I would treat anyone I've ever loved."

"I'll treat you the same." I say softly, taking his hand over the table, "you've shown me more love than anyone else has."

A smile creeps across his lips, almost like accomplishment, and he squeezes my hand as he leans over to wipe a bit of sauce off the corner of my mouth. I resist the urge to poke my tongue out and lick my lips as he stares at my mouth for a few moments before looking up at me.

"I take it you havent had much expeirence with this? The whole dating thing?"

"I'm not very... open to dating in general. I havent been looking, havent been asked." I pour the rest of the champagne bottle into our glasses, and Lando leans forward.

“Really?” He clearly doesn’t believe me and I laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you probably have girls hanging off your arms in droves. I haven’t had anyone since the guy who took my virginity like…three years ago?”

“There’s years?!” Lando gapes and I feel my cheeks redden as he looks me over, “you’re like—one of the most attractive, most kind and just—one of the best women I’ve ever met! How in the hell have you not had someone try?”

“We’re not all hot Formula one drivers.” I sip my drink, "and I work long hours, I'm always traveling, guys don't want a woman they can't have any hour of the day."

Lando scoffs as if that's the stupidest thing anyone has ever said in their life, "Well, all those men are stupid."

I laugh because I can't agree more.

"Well, I'm too drunk to drive for at least another hour." Lando sets the empty check book on the edge of the table, waiting for Jett to come and whisk it away for his tip. We wave goodbye to the owner, who happily grins as he goes to post the picture of us he'd taken, and Lando stands, offering me his hand as he helps me get organized, "Wanna go sit somewhere and talk?"

"I've run out of things to say, I fear." I laugh as I stand up. He takes my hand with one, and he grins, using his other hand to grab his phone as he walks me to the marina with a tossed thank you over his shoulder I mimic. As we settle on the docks, he pauses and opens his phone.

"One hundred questions to ask your girlfriend." He says, turning to show me the Yahoo page and I laugh in disbelief as he continues to explain, "theres simple ones, deep ones, intimate ones."

"Oh my god, Lando."

"Sexy questions, and ones for 'if you've been dating for like, ever.'" He turns his phone back and a few seconds later the link pops up on my phone, "We should pick a random question from each and ask each other."

When I agree, we find ourselves on the end of one of the docks with a pretty big pontoon boat bobbing besides us. Our legs dangle over the water, making shadows in the dock lights as Lando asks me to pick a random number one to five. I pick four. He asks for a number one to twenty, I pick nine.

"Lights on or off during sex?"

"Wow, starting strong." I burst into drunken giggles and he follows suit, his jacket laying across my shoulders to combat the breeze as we lean into each other for warmth.

"On, usually. Not that I've been fucking that many guys in my life."

"I'm still shocked that a girl as pretty as you doesn't have guys falling at their knees before her." He laments, scrolling through the questions idly as he giggles at a few that we both know are far too inappropriate to ask right now.

"What? You wanna be the first?" I ask and he nods almost too enthusiastically, catching me off guard and making me giggle. I look down at my phone and ask him to pick a number.

His question ends up being from the third section, question fifteen, "Do you like to be complimented?"

"Fuck yeah." He grins as his hand finds mine, fingers interlocking as he looks over at me, "I love compliments. Racing, my looks, my personality, anything. I melt."

I write that down mentally.

My next question is from section two, question eleven, "What would you say to your younger self?"

"I would tell her she's incredible. That... she doesn't have to base her validation off of what other people are doing."

Lando gets section three, question three, "Biggest turn off?"

His answer takes a while, before he murmurs, "My last girlfriend, a fling for only a few days really, only used me for my money."

My last question is section one, question nine, "What ended your last relationship?"

I really don't want to answer it, but I do. For some reason I feel safe enough telling Lando, even if its something I've only admitted to childhood friends

"He cheated on me."

"No way."

"Don't tell Oscar." I sigh, rubbing my thumb along Lando's hand, "I...I've never told Oscar because they're really good friends. But, yeah, he cheated on me for nine months of our twelve month relationship. And... I-I don't know why I was even dating him in the first place."

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Lando says, squeezing my hand and then wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me to his side, "One of the things I've never been able to understand is why people cheat. If you don't like the first person, or you find yourself attracted to someone else, you should just break-up."

"Yeah..." I sigh, leaning into his touch and closing my eyes. Lando sighs heavily, and curls me into his side just letting me stay there for a long while. We say a few more meaningless things, loose jokes, tired attempts at continuing the conversation before we just let the silence hold us in a sort of pause, in that moment, where it's just us.

We end up in his car maybe two hours later, his hand warm on my thigh as he pulls through the Miami streets. I adjust my instagram posts, smiling before setting my phone down as we pull up to a light.

"Oh, by the way, did they tell you about my home race?" Lando asks as one of the songs slowly pulls to a close on the radio and I snort.

"Yeah, we have to kiss on live-fucking-tv." I look over at Lando as he merges into a lane to get in the turn off lane towards the hotel, and he nods, shaking his head with a grin.

"Astrid told me we should 'practice so it's not awkward when you guys kiss for the first time on TV' because god forbid its awkward and their little thing is found out." Lando explains, but halfway through im dying of laughter and hiding my smile behind my hands as I cackle so hard tears are in my eyes.

"I know! I know!" He laughs, pulling to a stop and I look over at him. Theres a moment where our eyes meet, and I want to say something, but my words get caught in my throat. Lando watches me with a soft smile, his hand on my thigh tightening softly as his eyes flicker down to my lips and then back up to my eyes. We fall quiet, and I lean forward in my seat a bit.

"Olivia." He whispers and I bring a hand to his jaw.

"Lando." I mutter back, tracing the edges of his lips with my eyes, before looking back up at his eyes. We both swallow, and I lean in partially, our lips hovering inches away before a truck honks and we snap back into our seats as Lando pulls forward at the light.

It takes maybe thirty seconds for us to fall into awkward laughter. The rest of the car ride is quiet, Lando's hand only moving when he goes to get out of the car. I wait for him to grab my door this time, and he smiles as he opens it, helping me out and handing his keys to the valet.

Lando finally speaks again once he's dropping me off at the hotel room door, "You wanna do a movie cliche?"

"A goodbye kiss?" I say, and he nods, stepping forward to tuck my hair behind my ear before he leans in further and our lips softly meet with a flutter of my eyes shutting. It was delicate, almost like he was afraid to hurt me, and I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs as I step closer and wrap my arms around his neck. My stomach is flipping as his hands find my ribs, then slide lower along my dress to rest on my hip bones as we lean back, lips grazing eachothers before he presses in again. There's an interlock, everything sort of clicking together like it's meant to be, and I feel his fingers dig into my hips and pull me closer.

My back hits the door at one point, his leg between mine as his lips pepper my cheeks, before one final deep, teeth-clashing set of kisses has us finally pull back for space. My breaths are sharp as I slowly lean back from the kiss, him stepping back and fixing my skirt that he'd slightly ruffled up. We stand in silent, eyes met, chests rising sharply as I feel my skin buzzing with excitement. Eventually, my hand bumps the key to the door and I unlock it, pushing it open and turning back to kiss Lando's cheek as I whisper,

"Night, Nori."

I slip into the room, clicking the door shut, leaning back against it and letting out a loud giddy sigh as I bring a hand to my mouth to suppress the sound of the squeal that tries to leave my bursting chest. My skin is alight, my cheeks burning red, my hands shaking and I giggle at the bursting feeling at my chest.

"Had a good date?" Oscar calls and I nearly jump out of my skin, before Oscar laughs hysterically.

"God, fuck you! Give me a warning next time!" I whine, swinging my purse at him, "And yes, I had a very nice date."

"Good." He says softly, looking over at me from the couch before he points to a vase of red roses.

"For you."

I walk over to the bouquet with curiousity, and I'm unsurprised after I read the note attached: 'hope you had as much fun as I, happy belated birthday, my love. - lando'

Another round of giggles makes Oscar smile softly as I hug the bouquet to my chest and close my eyes. Shit. I was so falling for every little thing that Lando was doing.

06 MARCH -- IMESSAGE ↴

06 MARCH -- INSTAGRAM ↴

OLIVIAPIASTRI POSTED A NEW STORY

LANDONORRIS POSTED A NEW STORY

06 MARCH -- TWITTER ↴

f1s.newsoutlet: LANDO AND OLIVIA OUT AT SEASPICE IN MIAMI???

no.rizz4: BRO LANDOS INSTA STORY AND NOW THIS??

mclaritin: SO OLIVIA N LANDO CONFIRMED?

f1reds: norivia or oliss or oliviando or olando?

⤷ horsecarteam: I THOUGHT U WROTE ORLANDOOO LMAOO

oaklynpiastri: AND THIS BITCH DIDNT TELL ME??

⤷ opheliapiastri: girl. get with the program. check the kidastri gc.

06 MARCH -- PHONE CALL BETWEEN OPHELIA AND LANDO ↴

"Hello?"

"Lando."

"Ophelia?"

"Yep."

"Lovely to speak with you."

"Look, I'm drunk, so I'm gonna cut to the chase. I'm sure Ossie's already asked but I need to know what you're doing with my baby sister."

"Hah, uhm. Well, I'm taking her out. All of it's for her. Olivia caught my eye for a while now and I... I don't know. I haven't been able to shake her no matter how hard I've tried. I didn't want to cause an issue with me and Oscar, because I know he's the most important guy in her life and--Oscar's my teammate, so he means a lot to me too."

"Okay..."

"So, I've known her since she started working for Red Bull as head analyst, so what, two years? And ever since the first time I saw her in Red Bull's garage, I just had this pull. I had an opportunity to get closer to her, and I took it, and now we're--kinda dating? Nothing labeled yet. I'm letting her take it at her pace."

"Last question."

"Hit me."

"Promise me you won't break her heart like the last guy?"

"I would rather die than hurt her."

"Good."

#formula one #f1 #formula 1 #ln4 fic #f1 fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x oc #ln4 #lando norris fic

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