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#I don’t know what means but if you asked me I would say it means they will release it eventually
pucksandpower · 3 days
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MILF
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that
Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things
Based on this request
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“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.
Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.
Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.
You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.
Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”
“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”
Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”
Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”
Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.
“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”
“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.
“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”
You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”
“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”
Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.
“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”
“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”
You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”
Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.
You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”
Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”
You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”
Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”
Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”
You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”
The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.
After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.
You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.
Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.
You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”
“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”
Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”
You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.
“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”
You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.
Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.
Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.
You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.
“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.
You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.
“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.
Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”
No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.
You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.
***
The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.
“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.
You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”
The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.
You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.
“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.
You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”
“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”
You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.
“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”
Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”
You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”
“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”
You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.
They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.
“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”
“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.
Too smoothly.
You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.
Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”
The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.
“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.
Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”
The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.
“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. “She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”
The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.
Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”
“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”
He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.
Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”
“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”
You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”
He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”
You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.
He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.
“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”
Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”
You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”
He grins. “Proudly.”
Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.
“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.
Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.
The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.
Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”
The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.
“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”
After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”
He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”
Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.
You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”
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gimmeurtmi · 2 days
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say please — han
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pairing: han jisung x fem!reader
tags: established relationship, minor dom/sub dynamics, smut!🔞
warnings: swearing, minor dom/sub dynamics, both are switches, spitting, like a lot of spitting, squirting, fingering, mess!!, use of “gross”, “disgusting”, ��messy” but in a sexy way, ji calls reader mommy, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, undisclosed use/disuse of protection, enjoy <3
inspo: ji’s insta post <3
notes: a gift for my baby juni @hyunsvngs i hope you like it it’s your fault either way <3
{ wc: 1780 }
“what?” jisung turns to you after you whine loudly at him.
you’re both lazing around in bed, have been since you arrived back home after going out for lunch. it’s getting warmer now but you’re still in sweats and one of ji’s hoodies. you don’t mean to match each other but jisung has a lot of grays in his closet, and so you end up in the same colour scheme.
“can you stop texting and give me attention?” you pout.
jisung quickly puts his phone away and turns his body fully towards you.
“you were watching tiktoks,” he pouts back.
“i’m bored of them now,” you shrug, caging his hips between your legs as you roll on top of him.
“and what do you wanna do now?” he pushes your hair away from you, gravity doing its job by letting all of it fall on jisung’s face. he splutters around dramatically before neatly tucking it behind your ears.
“annoy you,” you say, kissing his cheek.
“that’s not annoying,” he smiles softly. the movement causes his cheeks to bunch up, allowing you to take a bite from his flesh with a giggle.
“ow!” he yells, trying to push you off him.
he can’t, as you’ve trapped him underneath your thighs, and all he can do is kick around the bed while you keep biting around his cheeks.
“you can’t keep eating me,” he whines loudly, pushing at your shoulders.
you move back slightly, smirking at your boyfriend.
“what?” he gaps at you.
“you’re hard,” you point out.
“yes, what else is new?” he scoffs at you, running his hands up and down your thighs slowly.
“was it the biting?” you chuckle.
“no,” he looks away, “i didn’t know you were so strong.”
you knit your brows at his confession, cocking your head to the side slowly.
“what?”
“you can hold me down pretty well,” he pointed out, “didn’t realise.”
“alright,” you say, because you aren’t sure what else you should say.
“can i eat you out now?” he pouts, eager, as if that was the next obvious thing to say in that moment in time.
it wasn’t, so you start laughing loudly.
“it’s not funny!” he defends, “i need your lips on mine.”
you lean down to kiss him softly.
“not those lips,” he mumbles against the kiss, before sinking his hand in your hair as he deepens it.
you kiss him slowly, despite his efforts to turn the kiss messy you don’t let him—controlling the pace subtly, but jisung scums to it anyway.
when you’re both out of air you pull away slowly, jisung’s heavy breaths against your skin.
“want my pussy?” you ask, breathless.
“yeah,” he nods, eyes shiny, “yes.”
“not like that,” you click your tongue, “be good.”
“i-i am! you know how good i can make you feel,” he urges.
“i do know,” you smile at him, “i also know you have manners.”
“come on,” he pouts at you, eyes so so big in front of you.
you quickly get off him, pulling off your clothes in a hurry before you spread your legs in front of him.
“oh, fuck,” he blushes, “fuck it’s so pretty. pussy so so pretty,”
he grabs your thighs, pulling you towards him in one quick motion.
your boyfriend is so soft and sweet you can often forget how strong his arms are and the force he’s able to use on you if he wanted.
“ji, shirt off,” you tell him, and he quickly peels off his layers.
now you can see his arms, look at them as much as you’d like. it makes your mouth water. you start wondering how it would feel to bite his arms instead of his cheek, and when jisung sees you aren’t looking at him he starts whining again.
“attention,” he lets out in a whine.
you chuckle at him softly before locking eyes.
“can i now?” his face is a few inches away from your pussy, so close you can feel little puffs of air on your wetness every time he breathes.
you want to push his head right into your cunt but you don’t. instead, you just shake your head.
“spit,” you tell him, your fingers carding through his long hair.
jisung quickly does as he’s told, like he always does, and gathers spit on his tongue. he lets it fall down, maintaining eye contact, and his spit slowly starts running down your folds.
you can’t help whimpering at the feeling.
“more, more,” you ask, raising your hips to meet his spit halfway.
jisung lets more and more of it fall, a few times landing directly on your clit and you keen loudly at the feeling. “make it messy, ji, fuck.”
jisung can’t wait any longer, and he surges forward to wrap his lips around your pussy—but you stop him.
“you didn’t say please,” you tsk, “so you aren’t getting any.”
jisung’s eyes widen in realisation and he quickly opens his mouth to start begging. you fucking love it when he begs, but this time, it won’t help him. so you grab his wrist and sink his fingers in his own mouth before he can start begging and change your mind.
the sound gets caught in his throat, so does his moan.
“give me your fingers, ji,” you say, slowly moving his fingers in and out of his mouth with the grip you have on his wrist, “fuck me with your fingers.”
jisung nods eagerly.
you let his fingers slide out of his mouth with a small pop, and he wastes no time before rubbing his fingers all over your folds, spreading the spit around everywhere.
“messy,” he says, a little dazed.
he slowly sinks his finger in, and noticing there’s little resistance thanks to his dick stretching you out this morning, he quickly sinks in another one.
you let out a loud moan at the fullness.
“wanna taste you,” he whines, a louder one coming out when all you do is shake your head.
“fingers, need them,” you moan out, as he pushes in deep and fast. he adds a third finger, the stretch now deeper and so so sweet as your wetness helps him easily glide his fingers in and out.
you let him spit on your cunt again, a high pitch moan leaving you at the contact.
“tits, tits,” you don’t even know what you’re saying, “make my tits messy, too.”
jisung quickly moves up the bed, continuing the fast pace of his fingers before he sticks out his tongue above your tits.
they bounce softly from the impact of him finger fucking you, and he tries his hardest to aim the string of spit towards your nipple. it doesn’t work, so instead he rubs the spit around, smearing it around your nipple as you moan loudly from the added stimulation.
“fuck it’s so gross,” you whine, “so dirty.”
“so fucking gross,” he agrees, this time spitting harshly on your other nipple. the wet contact and his words cause you to start clenching around his fingers. “so messy, you like it so messy it’s disgusting.”
“make a mess, please, baby,” you moan.
“mommy loves it gross,” jisung pouts at you, and you feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten.
“ji, ji, i’m so fucking close,” you grab his hair, pushing him back between your legs.
his eyes zero in on your cunt, the loud wet noises and your moans filling the room as jisung starts to whine again. “please, let me taste.”
“fuck, fuck, i’m so close, fuck,” you chant, “ji!”
jisung somehow manages to fit in another finger, sinking them in all the way to his knuckles.
“ji, ji, ji, ji,” you babble out incoherently.
“mommy, i’m doing everything, please let me taste,” he begs.
“stick your tongue out, baby,” he quickly does so, his eyes wide and looking up at you as his tongue sticks out millimetres away from your soaking pussy, “fuckfuck, i’m gonna squ—“
and before you can say anything, your stomach tightens and your thighs starts shaking and your clit pulses as a gush of water squirts out as your orgasm takes over your body.
you can’t let yourself look away even as the pleasure takes over you because jisung is doing his best to catch all of it on his tongue, his face covered in your release.
your thighs are covered in it and so is your stomach and everything is wet around you and your walls are pulsing tightly around four of jisung’s fingers but before you can notice any of that jisung wraps his lips around your clit harshly as he pushes his fingers as deep as they can go and flicks them hard against your walls.
you cry out from the overstimulation and the way his fingers brush against your sensitive spot but jisung doesn’t stop, only pulls away for a moment to say, “fuck, i need you to do that again.”
so you let him keep going, the pleasure taking over your whole body as your thighs close around his head and you scream.
“ji, it’s too much, holy fuck—“
he hums against your clit and it sends you over the edge again, but for whatever reason you don’t squirt this time.
still, your orgasm takes over your body for at least forty seconds.
once you recover you open your eyes to see jisung taking off his boxers—that are soaked through his own release.
“i’m fucking the shit out of you, you don’t even get it,” he says urgently, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your stomach.
you’re leaning on the wetness now, the covers soaked in your release and jisung’s spit and before you can complain jisung grabs your hair and sinks his dick inside you. the stretch feels so fucking good, your walls looser but still not enough to accommodate comfortably for jisung’s girth. and the sensitivity of two orgasms so close together means you’re already clenching around him.
“everything is wet, ji,” you complain, and jisung pinches your nipples in response. hard.
you moan loudly and he says, “mommy likes the mess, huh? so i’m gonna push your face into the mattress you squirted on and you’re gonna thank me.”
he pushes your face into the mattress, and it smells like cum and spit and a little bit like sweat and when you don’t say anything he thrusts into you.
“thank you, ji,” you whimper out, “now fuck my brains out.”
“say please?” he chuckles, before grabbing your hips tightly and drilling into you.
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rhaenella · 2 days
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LN4 | Challenge Accepted
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pairing: lando norris x non-driver!reader
genre: one shot ✿
summary: it’s been five years since the last chinese gp, so when you and lando are set up to race each other on the shanghai circuit on mclaren’s state of the art simulator, anything is possible…
word count: 5.6k
masterlist
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・
The sound of feet tapping restlessly against the floor, alternated by the squeaking of a swivel chair spinning round, echoed through the large hall at McLaren HQ. With a sigh, you refreshed your social media—again—but there were no new posts of any kind to keep you occupied. You’d already gone through all of them.
Your boyfriend and F1 driver, Lando Norris, was somewhere in the massive building, filming interviews, challenges and whatnot for the McLaren social media platforms. He had asked if you'd come with him today, mostly because you already saw so little of each other due to his busy schedule. Not that you saw much of each other right now, but at least there wasn’t an ocean between you like there usually was. 
Besides, he’d promised he would wrap up as quickly as he could, and take you out for dinner. So. The wait was worth it. Even though you were bored out of your mind for the foreseeable future.
After walking up and down the hall’s boulevard four times over, admiring all of the beautiful, historical cars on display, you had checked out the trophy wall, which was just as impressive. But since you weren’t allowed access anywhere else inside the building, at least not without a chaperone, there wasn’t much else for you to do or see. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, spinning around in a chair like an impatient five-year-old, the line of racing cars and the lake outside whooshing by. 
“Y/N?”
The chair came to an abrupt stop. “Yea–yes?” you squinted at the blurry figure in front of you. 
Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to spin around so many times that your vestibular system now made it feel like you were on a ship battling a terrible storm. Luckily, once your vision cleared, you recognised the person instantly. It was Lando’s performance engineer, Andrew Jarvis. You’d seen him around race tracks a few times—he was always very friendly and kind to you.
“Jarv! Hi, how are you?”
“I’m good, thanks. What about yourself?”
“Oh, good, good… Enjoying the scenery,” you sneered, waving a hand.
“Right,” he drawled, looking you up and down with an amused smile. “Bored?”
“Yes,” you groaned, sinking a little deeper into the chair. “So. Fucking. Bored.”
Jarv chuckled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid Lando is still tied up. I think he and Oscar are filming some kind of… song challenge? I don’t know,” he shrugged with another laugh. “It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”
Your lips quirked up. “Imagine if it was. You could start hiding strategy calls in songs and sing them over the board radio.”
He wavered. “That would be…”
“Genius?”
“Eh, well,” he faltered, his mouth twitching all the same. 
“Right. Maybe not,” you laughed. 
Although, privately you thought it would be a hilarious idea. With a tinge of brilliance, perhaps. But the pinnacle of motorsport would probably be a little too serious to see it your way. 
“I’m obviously not an engineer, or a strategist, or a driver. So, I guess I’ll just stay here,” you sighed, patting the armrests of your new friend, the swivel chair. “And try to excel in exercising patience instead.”
Jarv nodded, his brows furrowing. “Maybe you don’t have to…” 
You eyed him with a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”
He checked his watch and glanced around before looking back to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I have an idea. Come with me.”
Jarv had already turned on his heel before you could object, expecting you to blindly follow him to wherever it was he intended to take you. Which you did… without too much thought. Let’s just say boredom got the best of you. Choosing between sitting another god knows how many hours in that chair, or doing something—anything—the choice wasn’t hard. So, you leaped from your seat, sprinting to catch up with him. 
“Wait!” 
He slowed down, and you fell into step beside him. “What’s your idea? Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
You neared the large double doors at the rear of the boulevard. Jarv pressed his right thumb on a small, glass box on the wall next to them, waiting for his fingerprint to be authorised. The system scanned his print, and the light tinged green. “Welcome, Mr. Jarvis,” a female voice said as the doors automatically opened in front of you.
“Nice.”
Jarv grinned, gesturing for you to precede him into the restricted wing of McLaren HQ. The part that the general public never got to see. You gazed around in amazement. You knew it was a large building, but it was more like a maze back here, and you quickly lost all sense of direction.
“I should probably text Lando, he’s gonna wonder where I’ve disappeared to.”
“Don’t worry, Lando is heading where we’re going, too.”
You relaxed a little at that, however your curiosity didn’t subside as you trailed after Jarv throughout the many long corridors. Where the hell were you going?
The behind the scenes looked arguably even more impressive than all the trophies and race-winning cars that were being flaunted in the entrance hall. You passed countless offices, labs, and workshops where employees were working on top-secret updates for the MCL38, or perhaps even next year’s car. And although Jarv kept up a good pace, you were still able to sneak a few glimpses here and there, thanks to all the glass walls. Most of the technology looked so futuristic, you felt like you had accidentally stepped onto the set of a sci-fi film.
Jarv made a sharp right turn down another hallway. This one only had one door at the end, and it wasn’t made out of glass like the rest of them, which prevented you from being able to see what was behind it. 
You read the sign next to the door, which only added to the mystery. 
Strictly No Admittance. Authorised Personnel Only.
“This is it,” Jarv said, retrieving a key to unlock the door, opening it wide. 
Well, there was your authorisation.
You stepped into the mysterious, dimly lit room, your eyes gradually widening with awe. 
The room was roughly twelve by twelve metres, and in the centre stood two professionally altered Formula 1 cars, both with their own 180-degree widescreens set up in a semicircle around them. The back wall was lined with large computer screens, a row of chairs stationed in front of them, which gave you the feeling you were looking at a small-scale pitwall. 
Holy… beep.
Speaking of futuristic tech, this was way up there.
“Welcome to the McLaren simulation room.”
You whirled around to face Jarv, beaming. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen a sim like this before.”
It was true. Sure, Lando had his own simulator at home in Monaco. But it was nothing compared to this piece of craftsmanship.
Jarv hummed, smiling as he walked to the faux-pitwall. “So. You ready to try it out?”
You blinked. “Ready to–wait a minute… what?”
You stared at Jarv as he turned on the computers, pressing buttons here and there that made the right car hum to life. Next, the widescreen around the car powered up as well, causing a wave of light to brighten the otherwise dark room.
“Jarv?”
He opened a cabinet, retrieving a steering wheel before he walked to the simulator. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t want to.”
“That’s not it,” you trailed off. 
“Good,” he said, turning around, looking at you expectantly. “So get in, then.”
“But… what about Lando? You said he was on his way over here. Don’t they need the room?”
“They will be here to film something in,” Jarv checked his watch again. “In a little over an hour. Until then, the room is empty, and we can use it. I presume you’ve driven a simulator before?”
“Yeah, I have… but don’t I need some kind of special clearance to use one of these?” One of these super expensive, highly accurate simulators that are solely used to train drivers and prepare the real cars and their setups for race weekends. Whatever could go wrong?
“Y/N, don’t worry about it. I’m Lando’s performance engineer. I’m one of the few that gets to decide who uses the sim.”
You shifted your weight, still unsure. “I’m not gonna be any good at it.”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have fun, or would you rather return to the waiting area?”
“No.”
Jarv’s smile widened, and he gestured to the sim, inviting you to take a seat.
You hesitantly walked up to the car, twisting your rings, a nervous habit of yours. You’d tried the simulator at Lando’s before, and like you’d already pointed out to Jarv, you weren’t any good at it. Lando had tried to talk you through it, telling you where to break and lift, but it was painfully clear you weren’t cut out to be a driver. 
And now you had to drive in McLaren’s state of the art simulator, under the watchful eye of Lando’s performance engineer. The pressure was real. You didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.
After you’d managed to, somewhat awkwardly, settle yourself in the sim’s seat, Jarv locked the steering wheel into place. It was familiar to you as it looked exactly like the one on Lando’s car, just like everything else on this sim. Except that it didn’t have a front or back wing, or any tyres.
“Alright, before you start driving, it’s important to know the ins and outs of the track you’re racing at. Which in this case will be Shanghai, the location of next weekend’s race,” Jarv said, pressing a few buttons. 
The layout of the track popped up on the screen in front of you, with a sea of information and data appearing on the sides. 
“Don’t worry about the data. We’ll stick to the basics that are of importance to you as a driver. Ready?”
You nodded.
“Good. So, the Shanghai International Circuit has sixteen corners, two DRS-zones on the main straights; one in sector three, and the other on start-finish…”
***
“I don’t know, I feel like maybe I should pursue a musical career,” Lando joked as he and Oscar followed Marion, the head of McLaren’s PR team, down the building’s corridors. 
They had just finished filming another challenge for YouTube. Or Instagram. Or both. Lando didn’t really care about the specifics. It was just another part of his job. Something he’d rather be done with soon, so he could go back to his girl.
Oscar snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be a Grammy-nominated artist in no time.”
Lando grinned, agreeing with a nod. 
“Alright, lads. One more, and then you’re free to go,” Marion called over her shoulder. 
It was absolute music to Lando’s ears.
“What is it that we have to do?” Oscar asked.
“You’ll be racing each other on the sim, just for a couple of laps, around the Shanghai circuit.”
“I thought we were gonna train on the sim in the morning,” Lando said.
Marion nodded. “You will. This is only a short challenge for a video ahead of the Chinese Grand Prix. Because we haven’t raced there in so long, we thought it’d be fun to film your initial reaction to the track driving the MCL38.”
He and Oscar shared a look. They were always down for a race. There was no question about it.
The click-clacking of Marion’s heels bounced around the hallway as the group made their way to the simulation room. When they arrived, Will, Lando’s race engineer, and a camera and sound crew were waiting for them by the door.
“Why are you all out here? You should be setting up the cameras,” Marion scolded, looking at the men expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
But the men ignored her, instead they all looked to Lando, grinning. He frowned, not at all understanding the meaning behind the knowing looks they were sending him. What was up with them?
“Someone beat us to the sim, I’m afraid,” Will explained, his eyes still on Lando.
Marion turned to Lando as well, equally confused. “What does that mean?”
Lando met her eye and shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
As if on cue, a high pitched scream came from the simulation room, followed by a distinct, “That’s more like it!”
Will and the crew chuckled, but Marion wasn’t having it. “What on earth is going on,” she bristled, pushing past them to enter the room.
Lando followed her, but he couldn’t have been less prepared for the scene they stumbled upon next. 
Occupying one of the simulators was his girlfriend, and right next to you stood Jarv, who was closely monitoring your driving, giving you short and precise instructions. You were going down the straight at full throttle, following Jarv’s pointers as you breaked and hit the curb perfectly for a smooth exit.
What the hell? 
He’d thought you were still waiting for him in the entrance hall on the other side of the building. Never in a million years had he expected to find you here, racing on McLaren’s simulator, looking like you actually knew what you were doing no less. 
So that’s why all the guys had been smirking at him…
“What do we have here?”
You jumped at Lando’s voice, immediately causing the car to spin and crash during your momentary lapse of concentration. 
“Fuck! I was on a flying lap…”
“And a bloody good one at that,” Jarv added, proud.
Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “You were what?” His eyes flicked from you to Jarv, to you, and then back to Jarv. “Mate?”
Before Jarv could utter a word, you turned to face your boyfriend with a wide smile. “Baby, guess what?! I’m not a complete loser at this!”
“I–I’m so proud of you… but,” Lando shook his head, still not understanding any of this. “Why are you two in here?”
You grabbed onto the halo and pulled yourself out of the car to face him. “Jarv came to see how I was doing, and since I had nothing better to do, he suggested I’d give this a try,” you explained, gesturing to the sim.
“Oh, I see,” Lando smiled. 
Yet he struggled to swallow the bitter taste at seeing you spending time and having fun with Jarv. All the while he had been stuck ‘working’. Not that he blamed you for it. He was the one who left you all by yourself for so long. But still… 
“Uhm, but now that you’re all here,” you said, a bit sheepish, your eyes scanning the gathering crowd. “I’ll uhm, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Very well,” Marion called, but she was quickly interrupted.
“No, no, no, no. Wait a second. I need to know something first,” Will spoke, stepping forward. “Jarv, we need your professional assessment, man. How did she do?”
Marion sighed, tapping her phone to check the time, which only made her look more impatient. Lando ignored her, his eyes sliding from you to his performance engineer, curious as well. 
“Y/N did great. She struggled a little at first, but the more laps she did, the better she got,” Jarv beamed. He turned to face Lando. “You know, I reckon she’d even have a good chance at beating you.”
Lando studied him. “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m being serious, mate. I’d wager good money on it.”
Marion’s annoyance evaporated within an instant, her eyes lighting up. “Oh gosh, that is a perfect idea, Jarvis.”
“What is? Gambling?” 
“No,” she huffed. “I mean, instead of Lando against Oscar, we can have these two lovebirds race each other on the sim instead!”
“What?” you and Lando cried in unison.
Everyone looked at you, and your cheeks tinged a soft pink. You weren’t used to all the attention, usually preferring to keep a lower profile. Well, as much as that was possible dating a Formula 1 driver.
“Guys, I’m flattered. Truly, I am. But I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I know you’re all here to do a job, and that job doesn’t include me…”
“That’s right,” Lando agreed. He shot you a brief smile before addressing Marion. “Besides, she doesn’t like to be the centre of attention, and I don’t want her to embarrass herself in front of the eyes of millions.”
Something stirred inside you. “What does that mean? You don’t think I can beat you?”
“Well, sweetheart…”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing. 
Under other circumstances, you would have agreed with him. But this last hour and a half with Jarv had boosted your confidence. It had gone really well, exceeding both of your expectations on your sim racing capabilities by miles. And maybe, some part of you, just wanted to show him that.
Like Lando, you never shied away from competition. Not if you had a chance at winning. You weren’t a hundred percent sure if you did right now. But you couldn’t deny you weren’t more than a little curious to find out. And seeing as Lando had just called you out in front of everyone, the only logical thing to do was rise to the challenge.
“You know what? I’m in.”
With that, you climbed back into the snug seat, forcing the thought of having everyone’s eyes on you to the back of your mind. 
Lando’s eyes widened. “What?” 
“Wonderful,” Marion exclaimed. “Let’s roll, people.”
Lando watched as everybody around him immediately jumped into action, including the camera and sound guys who got ready to put it all on film. Jarv grinned and grabbed his tablet, giving a slight nod to Will, who nodded in return and went to start up the second simulator and retrieve a steering wheel for Lando.
“I’ll be assisting Y/N, and just like with a normal race, Will can be Lando’s engineer,” Jarv said.
“Yep,” Will said, holding up the steering wheel as he walked to the other sim. “We’re good to go.”
“We are too!” one of the crewmen announced.
Marion smiled, but it faded when she noticed Lando still standing by the door, not having moved an inch. “What are you waiting for? Get in the car,” she said.
She started pushing Lando in the direction of the other sim, but he stood his ground. 
“Hold on. We can’t do this.”
“What? Why not?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Lando sighed. “You know why.” 
Did they? Did he? 
Lando loved to race, and he certainly loved you. So what was stopping him from combining the two? 
He wasn’t scared of losing—he never has been, and never would. Not that there was any real chance that you, an inexperienced ‘driver’, could beat him today. There was simply no way. 
He’d seen you try the sim at his house, and despite his best efforts, you were, for lack of a better term, absolute rubbish. But then again, Jarv had seemed so sure of himself. That man didn’t lie or exaggerate. He would give it to you straight if you underperformed or weren’t any good. Lando had always admired and respected that. 
So, had Jarv been able to unearth some sort of racing talent that was buried deep inside of you? Something that Lando himself hadn’t managed to uncover…
Was that why he hesitated going up against you? His sense of pride?
Lando groaned internally. If anything, that should make him that much more adamant to race you.
He looked over to see you were already staring at him, ambition burning bright in your eyes. Ambition to beat him. At the thing he did best… It was alluring, and Lando felt his own competitiveness flare. 
“No, we don’t. Honestly, what’s stopping you?”
“It’s only five laps. It’ll be a piece of cake for you, Norris.”
“Unless that’s the problem,” Jarv joked. “Maybe he needs to warm up and familiarise himself with the track first…”
“I think all of you are forgetting that I’m the only one here who actually raced in Shanghai,” Lando shot back, unconsciously taking a step towards the sim.
“And how did that work out for you, mate?” Oscar chimed in.
Lando glared at him and Oscar struggled to contain his laughter. 
“Even better,” you exclaimed, reclaiming your boyfriend’s attention. “You have on track experience and I’ve had a little time to prepare with Jarv. That’s fair enough, right?”
“Y/N… are you sure you want to…” 
He was so close to giving in. He knew it, you knew it, probably everyone did. Besides, you had one more trick up your sleeve. One that would surely make his competitive side overshadow any lingering doubts, and get him to race you in that other sim.
“When have you ever walked away from a race? Hm? Unless you’re scared you’ll lose…”
That struck the intended chord. 
Oh, she didn’t, Lando thought. 
You gave him your most innocent looking smile, but he knew damn well what you were doing. He shook himself. Fine. If you wanted to race him so badly, he would give it to you. And no way in hell would he still consider going easy on you.
Lando promptly made his way to the other car and slid into the seat with practised ease. He signalled Will, who handed him the steering wheel. He clicked it into place before glancing to his right, smiling dangerously. “Alright, you’re on, darling. Challenge accepted.”
At that, Jarv entered a bunch of commands on his tablet, which was connected to the simulator’s system, to set the race parameters. Two cars appeared on the screens, each from their own driver’s point of view, already in position to start racing at Shanghai’s International Circuit.
“As you can see, Lando will start on the right and Y/N will start on the left,” Jarv informed.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lando sputtered. “Why are you starting from pole and not me?”
“Because I clocked the fastest lap time.”
“You clocked the only lap time.”
You shrugged, smiling. “Take it up with race control, baby.”
“Don’t worry,” Will reassured, looking at his own tablet as he scrolled through the accumulated data from your runs. “Break late, and you can easily overtake her in the first corner.”
Lando nodded, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as the digital green flag was waved.
Jarv leaned in to whisper in your ear: “No, he won’t. Just remember what I taught you.”
“Aye, aye,” you said, focusing on the lights.
The cameras were all set and rolling, and Marion looked around, relishing the unexpected turn of events. This would be an enormous hit online, for sure. Her eyes landed on Oscar who stood to the back, watching the couple with an amused glint in his eye. If only she could involve him as well somehow… that would make it even better.
“Oscar, why don’t you take on the role of commentator?” Marion suggested, her tone indicating that he didn’t have much of a choice. 
Oscar startled. “Oh. Uhm. Yeah, sure.”
He moved to stand in between the two simulators, clearing his throat. “Right. Uhm. Welcome to the Shanghai International Circuit for the 2024 Chinese Grand Prix… It’s Sunday, April 21st—well, not really but let’s go with it—uhm, and we’ll soon start racing–”
“You’re a lousy commentator, Piastri,” Lando interrupted.
Oscar rolled his eyes. “How about you worry about yourself, Norris.”
Lando snickered, but he quickly sobered when the first light gleamed red. Then the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and…
“It’s lights out and away we go!”
You got away quick, but Lando was faster, years of experience siding with him.
“Lando dives into the first corner, ahead of Y/N. Can she cross back? No, no she cannot. Ah, bummer…” Oscar narrated. “She’s right behind him, though, going into turn 3. Lando nearly missing the apex there, but he recovers well. OH! Oh, never mind. Lando goes wide in turn 6! Yeah, he’s familiar with that one.”
“Shut up,” Lando snapped.
“I didn’t think so, mate,” Oscar grinned, settling into his new character nicely. 
“Y/N is back on his heels as they go down sector two. DRS is not yet enabled, but she is only six tenths behind! Will Y/N be able to overtake Norris without DRS on the straight? She’s getting closer… they’re racing each other into turn 14, and… OH Y/N, massive lock-up! She manages to keep the car on track. Excellent save! But that’s gonna cost her some valuable time.”
You crossed start-finish, eyeing the time as you entered lap two.
Oscar’s voice boomed loud. “DRS enabled! But Y/N is too far–”
“Just 1.2 seconds behind, you can still do this,” Jarv encouraged. “Line-up on the left and take the first corner on the inside. Yeah, like that. Good.”
On the other side of the room, Will was giving Lando similar instructions. It had, after all, been a while since Lando had last raced this track. During his rookie year, no less. Therefore it was currently taking him quite a bit of effort to find the correct race line, especially with the many difficult corners and hairpins around the track. 
“Steady on,” Will said. “Y/N is out of DRS. Let’s keep it that way.”
The couple sped down the track on their simulators, and even though most of your focus was spent on driving and listening to Jarv’s notes, you also marvelled at the accuracy and realism of the sim. From the sensations of the literal car you were seated in, down to the gravel Lando’s little off-track adventure had caused to spread in and around turn 6. Whatever the outcome of the race, this experience would certainly beat waiting around and lounging in that swivel chair.
“Great exit from Norris who is absolutely flying down the straight in sector three, followed by Y/N at 1.4 seconds. Still doing a phenomenal job so far!” Oscar continued, his eyes glued to the screen. “Approaching turn 14, can Y/N manage the hairpin this time? What?! Oh, no! It’s Lando that locks up this time… Oiiioii, mighty turn 14 proves to be too much for both of our star drivers.”
Jarv kept a close eye on the interval time, and thanks to Lando’s mistake, the gap had already shrunk to 1.1 seconds. “Okay, now use the extra power from the ERS to get closer,” he instructed.
You did as you were told, pressing the correct button on the steering wheel, which gave you an extra boost to get even closer to Lando.
“Y/N gaining on Norris! And she’s now back within DRS at 0.9 seconds. Whoa, what a truly remarkable performance by someone who has never driven a race car or a sim like this before! I’d vote for her as driver of the day…”
“No one asked your opinion,” Lando cut off, sounding a little strained.
“Whatever,” Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Lando Grumpy-Ass Norris struggles to maintain the gap between him and his girlfriend, hitting the curb a little enthusiastically right there. Oh, Y/N faces the same issues! It’s all about keeping the focus now, ladies and gents. Will Y/N be able to close the gap? Will she be able to attack Norris?”
Marion stood behind the cameras, watching gleefully how you and Lando raced each other around the virtual Shanghai circuit. Oh, you were even better than she could have ever anticipated. Better than anyone in the room could have ever anticipated, really. The whole crew was watching the race with baited breath. 
You were almost equally matched. With you, a real diamond in the rough, having received some training beforehand, and Lando, an experienced driver, essentially going in blind—it was a golden match.
Were you going to be able to do the unthinkable?
“We’re going into the penultimate lap, and even with Lando strategically using his batteries, Y/N has managed to close the gap to 0.7 with DRS. And there she is also clocking the fastest lap. Wow!”
“You can win a little bit of extra time in sector two,” Will analysed. “Turns 9 and 12 are crucial. You need a good exit.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Does he?” Oscar cut in. “We’ve got track limits for Norris in turn 9! He’s getting desperate now, with Y/N coming for him at 0.6 seconds. Is she going to—yes! She’s attempting to overtake Norris ahead of turn 11 but… fails… Oh, that was a bold move by Y/N! She lost a bit of time with that one, but she’s still within DRS range and knows she will be able to get close again for another attack.”
Your knuckles were turning white from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel. You couldn’t make a mistake, not now. You were so close… On the other sim, Lando was in a similar state. Although he was clenching his jaw in concentration instead. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep you behind him.
“Final lap,” Oscar announced. “And Norris crosses the white lines again! Turn 3 this time. Yep, there it is. Second track limits for Norris. He is feeling the heat, and not the good kind.”
Jarv’s mouth twitched. “It’s been five years since Lando raced here, let’s use it to our advantage,” he spoke to you in a hushed tone.
You nodded, your eyes never wavering from the screen in front of you.
Jarv checked the data, both yours and Lando’s, then leaned in. “Okay, here’s what you’ll do: instead of following the race line at–”
Will was closely observing you and Jarv from the other side of the room, but he couldn’t make out what Jarv was saying over the sounds of the simulators’ engines and Oscar still commentating to his heart’s content. He looked down at his driver, who was fully focused on the task before him.
“And then use the charged batteries after exiting turn 13. I know Lando’s defending tactics, this should work. He won’t see it coming,” Jarv finished. 
You simply nodded again, trusting your engineer’s judgement. You would give it your all to try and execute his strategy as best you could.
“As we’re nearing the chequered flag, all bets are off. Lando is fighting for his position with everything he has, but Y/N is not ready to call it quits just yet!” 
Your heart rate was off the charts, but you managed to stay calm, hitting the apexes, the metres between you and Lando’s car in front dwindling with each passing second.
“0.5 seconds, 0.4 seconds…”
“Flat out, Y/N. Let’s go,” Jarv said, his own heart rate ticking up.
“She’s chasing him, with DRS… There she comes. There she comes… round the inside! Y/N overtakes Norris!” Oscar roared. “Diving into the infamous turn 14… and… and she makes it! Hell yeah! What a mega move from Y/N! Now into the final corner. Can she stay ahead of Norris? Can she…? Yes!! Yes, she can!”
You passed the chequered flag, your mouth falling open in shock.
“Y/N wins the Chinese Grand Prix!”
“OH MY GOD!!”
Jarv's laugh pierced the room. “Get in! I told you!”
He managed to stop himself just in time before he started jumping up and down like an overly excited little boy. You shared his enthusiasm though, unable to control the slight tremor in your hands at seeing your name next to the word WINNER displayed boldly on the screen in front of you. 
Holy fuck, you did it. You actually did it.
Lando sank low in his seat. “How the hell…”
Will patted him on the shoulder, consoling. “You did your best mate.”
“Clearly it wasn’t enough,” he grumbled.
Will glanced at their celebrating opponents, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Get your mind out of the gutter, mate, and look on the bright side.”
“Which is?”
“Your girlfriend just showed you the perfect overtake manoeuvre for Sunday.”
“Ha-ha, very funny…”
Although, you really did. 
Lando turned to see Jarv help you out of the simulator, still grinning from ear to ear. You were reeling, the adrenaline of the fight and win coursing through your veins. Suddenly you understood what it must feel like to come out of a real F1 car, and to stand on the podium, basking in that feeling of winning a race.
As soon as you were out, Jarv high-fived you. “Solid race. That’s some potential, that is.”
Oscar came up next. “Awesome job, Y/N. Seriously. Great overtake at the end there. Perhaps you’ll be my future teammate,” he winked.
You giggled. “Thanks, guys!”
Even Will smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up as you walked over to Lando who was still seated in the other sim, sulking.
“Oh, come on,” you pouted, reaching out your hand, a peace offering. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Sure thing, it was,” he muttered, but he accepted your hand anyway before jumping out of the car. 
When he stood in front of you, he took a moment to look you up and down, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. His ego may have taken quite the blow today, but there was no denying he was also extremely proud of you. Jarv had been right after all, and Lando was happy he hadn’t taken the engineer up on his bet.
He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”
You shrugged, smiling. “Need to keep things fresh and exciting, don’t I? Otherwise you’ll tire of me in no time.”
“Never,” Lando scoffed, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving your lips a soft peck. “However, as much as I’m proud of you… this footage will never see the light of day.” 
You laughed, your eyes locking with Marion.
She sent you a wink. “We’ll see about that.”
***
a/n: thank you for reading <3 feedback is adored. 
by the way, should i make a taglist for future f1 fics? is that something you’d be interested in? or perhaps for specific drivers? let me know!
also posted on ao3
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sluttywoozi · 2 days
Text
Interlude No. 9 | yjh x reader
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Interlude No. 9: Jeonghan broke up with you three months ago, so why is he at your door now?
Rating: sfw (minors still shouldn’t be here) | WC: ~3.3k
Pairing: yjh x reader | Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, a lil romance
Warnings: alcohol mention, swearing, breaking up and making up
Reader Notes: drinks wine, owns a blow dryer
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You’re halfway into your second glass of wine and fully done with your skincare when a knock sounds on your apartment door. 
It sounds familiar for some reason, and though you normally would never entertain the thought of accepting an unexpected caller after 9 PM, your gut is telling you to answer. So onto the side table your glass goes before you stand on tired legs and slowly make your way to the hall. You should grab the bat but that gut feeling is still there, the one that says you have nothing to worry about, so you pass the closet you keep it in and continue on to the door. 
Closing one eye, you sweep aside the cover and look through the peephole, gasping at what, or rather, who, you find. 
Yoon Jeonghan. 
The man you dated for two years, the man who broke up with you three months ago without an explanation. 
The man you still love. 
You can’t see much, but you can see that he looks awful. His hair is long and sloppily tied back, his glasses are low on his nose, and his eyes are red, glassy. He gnaws at his lip as he waits, his posture growing worse with every minute that ticks by until he’s all but wilted onto the floor. 
You don’t know what to do. 
You blocked his contact after he left you, swore you wouldn’t speak to him again no matter how many friends you have in common, but here he is at your door, looking, for all intents and purposes, dead inside. 
You can’t see him anymore but he didn’t walk away, which means he must have finally sat down in the hall. You’re just glad he’s not making noise, your neighbors have always been nosy and you hate the idea of them knowing about this. 
He doesn’t seem like he’s going anywhere anytime soon, so all you can do is unlock your three locks and open the door a crack, just enough to spot him. 
His gaze shoots up immediately and he rushes to stand, his limbs clumsy as he picks himself up off the floor. 
“Hi,” he breathes, brushing his clothes off and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. 
You ignore the way your stomach drops at his voice, ignore the way it feels like a balm to your frayed nerves, and ask quietly, “What are you doing here?” 
He glances away and pushes up his glasses, swiping a hand over his eyes and down his face before saying, “I wanted to talk to you, about us.” 
You bristle, unhealed hurt rising up within you at his words. 
“Now you want to talk? You didn’t seem to have anything to say three months ago when you left,” you remind him harshly, pretending your heart doesn’t ache at the way he flinches and tries to hide it.
“I- I fucked up, I fucked everything up, I know that. But I’ve been trying to talk to you this whole time, ever since I walked out. Please, just listen to me this once, and I promise, if you never want to hear from me again, I’ll leave you alone.”
He sounds distraught, as close to tears as you’ve ever heard him, and you know you shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you do it anyway. 
You open the door and step to the side, ignoring his deep sigh of relief and pushing down the shock when you smell the cologne you bought him last year as he walks past you. 
You didn’t live together but he knows where to go, making his way to your living room and settling into his corner of the couch. Maybe you should offer him something to drink, but you don’t feel like playing host right now, not when the wound you thought had scarred over has started bleeding again. 
Bypassing your spot on the sofa, you sink into the chair farthest away from him, tugging a blanket over your lap as if it could protect you somehow. 
He stares at you, his gaze a deep pool of sorrow and guilt and his fingers fidgeting in his lap. 
“Well?” You prompt him when he doesn’t speak, almost wishing you had the forethought to grab your glass of wine. You could use it at a time like this. 
“I- I guess I should start off by saying I love you and I’m in love with you and I never stopped being in love with you,” he says it like it’s a vow, like he fears you won’t believe him. 
You say nothing, swallowing around the pit of anguish in your throat. 
“When I left, it was because of me, not because of anything you did. You’re perfect, you always have been. I just- I couldn’t give you what you deserved. I saw how happy you were when Joshua proposed to his partner, and we both knew I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to get married, but I knew that you were sure.”
“I wanted you to be free to find someone who could give you that, and I thought breaking up with you was the right thing to do, but as soon as I left, I knew it was the absolute dumbest and most cowardly thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“I shouldn’t have made that decision for you, I should have told you how I was feeling and let you make the choice yourself, even if the outcome would have been the same.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jeonghan chokes out, his face pinched and his eyes full of saltwater. 
Tears are threatening to stream down your face, your heart squeezing in your chest like someone is wringing it out. It’s time for you to respond to him, but you don’t know what to say. 
You’ve missed him more than you ever thought possible, and a part of you is comforted by the fact that he never stopped loving you. But another part of you is broken, your trust in him fractured and your faith in him lost. 
You feel like he’s misunderstood you on a fundamental level, like the years you spent together were for nothing because he obviously doesn’t know you as well as you thought he did. You feel like your autonomy has been stripped away, like he thinks you’re a child who can’t be trusted to form your own opinions. 
Most of all, you feel robbed, of the last three months, of the lifetime you would have spent with him, married or unmarried. 
“Why are you telling me this now?” You whisper, needing to know his angle. Is he just looking to absolve himself of guilt? You don’t know if you can do that for him. 
“Because I’m dying without you,” he nearly sobs out. “I’ve wanted to come back since I left but my texts and calls wouldn’t go through, and I didn’t want to show up at your job like a creep, and all of our friends hate me except for Seungcheol so there was nobody to carry a message for me. It’s all my own fault, and I know that, I just- I’m selfish, I can’t let you go without knowing you want me to.” 
“Jeonghan, I never wanted you to let me go. I never wanted to be free. I only wanted you,” your voice breaks on the last word, and you have to look away as you fight the urge to openly weep. 
“Past tense?” He sounds defeated, empty. “You don’t…” 
“Yoon Jeonghan, you’re a fucking idiot if you think I don’t love you anymore,” you glare, feeling like you could curse him, hex him and his whole bloodline for his stupidity. “But that doesn’t mean we can pick up where we left off. You broke us, you broke me, and I need time before I can let you in like that again.”
Finally, there’s life in his eyes again, gratitude and love shining on his face, like the fact that you’re even considering it is enough for him. 
“I’ll be here, I’ll wait forever if I have to. And I’m not saying this because I think it’ll change anything, but I do want to marry you, only you, so I mean it when I say forever,” he sends you a watery beam, his face shiny with tears. 
You can’t stop the corners of your mouth from quirking up in a smile, even if you do want to prod further into how he’s suddenly made up his mind. You fear you don’t have the energy for it tonight, not after all of this. 
You also fear you don’t have the heart to send him home alone. He looks a bit better but his cheeks are gaunt, his hair is greasy, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He hasn’t been doing well, and you want to feel vindicated but instead you just feel worried. 
“You can sleep here tonight, on the couch. Let me get you some blankets and pillows,” you whisper, rising to your feet and retreating to your bedroom before he can protest out of some misguided feeling of imposition. 
You gather up his favorite blanket, the one that’s been folded on the chair in the corner of your room since he broke up with you, and his preferred pillow. It still smells like him even though you’ve changed the case countless times, and you have to admit that you’ve been thankful for it. 
You also get some pajamas he left, having neglected to clear out his drawer because you couldn’t bear to open it. 
He’s right where you left him when you return, head tilted back as he dozes, and you set the bedding at the end of the couch before tentatively resting a hand on his shoulder to wake him. 
He blinks up at you and smiles his sweetest smile, and you feel your heart start to stitch itself back together. In a whisper, you say, “Jeonghan, why don’t you take a shower while I get the couch ready?” 
“Are you sure? You don’t have to do all this,” he mumbles, his eyes avoiding yours as he bites at his lip anxiously. 
“I know I don’t. Let me do it anyway,” you tell him, squeezing his shoulder and reaching down for his hand to pull him up and to the bathroom. 
He follows you obediently, taking the pajamas when you hand them over and grinning shyly at you one last time as the bathroom door closes between you. 
You don't have a lot of time to think as you set up the couch, knowing he takes around ten minutes to shower. You’ll probably offer to blow dry his hair when he gets out, he hates sleeping with it wet, he always thinks it’ll give him a cold. Even after three months without him, caring for him is still as easy as breathing. 
Now that you have space to think, you’re not sure how much time you really need to let him back in. 
Of course, you’re still wounded and bitter that he left you in the first place, but you can tell he wasn’t lying, that he really thought he was doing the right thing. You think he knows now that he shouldn’t ever do something like that again, and while your trust in him is cracked, it’s not as broken as you worried it was. 
Setting everything he should and shouldn’t have done aside, you have to admit that you miss him, desperately, and that you want to be his just as much as you want him to be yours. 
But with all of your feelings so fresh, you think you should sleep on it at least one night, just to be sure you have forgiven him, that you can take him back. 
You should have a few minutes left before he’s done, so you sneak back into your room and grab your blow dryer and hair brush from your vanity, setting up shop on the chair closest to an outlet. 
Soon enough, he wanders out in his baggy shirt and pajama pants, squeezing his dripping hair with a towel and grinning when he sees you. 
“Salon time?” He asks with excitement, and you smile indulgently, waving the hair dryer at him and waiting for him to sit cross legged in front of you, his back to your knees and his head at the perfect height for you to take care of his hair. 
It’s soothing to you, carrying out this routine and having this kind of intimacy with him after all these weeks apart. 
You dry and dry until his silky locks slip through your fingers, and when you finally shut the blow dryer off, the silence in the room is deafening. Jeonghan is leaning back against your legs, his head dipped low and his neck bent at an odd angle, and you realize he’s fallen asleep. 
It must have been soothing to him too, you think, gently scratching your nails over his scalp before whispering his name. 
He stirs, looking around in confusion and tilting his head all the way back to look at you upside down, a sleepy smile stretching his lips. 
“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice hushed and relaxed. 
You fight the urge to lean down and press a kiss to his lips like you used to, smoothing your finger over his eyebrow instead and replying, “You’re welcome.”
He pushes up to his feet, stretching his hands overhead and yawning loudly, before turning and reaching for you only to stop short. 
“Goodnight,” he says, folding his hands behind his back like he’ll touch you if he doesn’t. 
“Goodnight,” you whisper, trying to ignore how weird it feels not to follow it with an I love you. 
You turn and retreat to your room before the words can escape without your permission, closing the door behind you with a soft click. 
You’re already all washed up for the night so you just slide into your side of the bed, pulling the duvet tight around you to mimic the feeling of Jeonghan’s arms. 
It takes you ages to fall asleep with the knowledge that he’s just a few yards away, that you could have him in this bed if only you would ask. 
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It’s dark when you wake, your heart still racing with the nightmare that roused you though you can’t remember it. You lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling in an attempt to calm yourself, your eyes locking onto the blur of the fan, just barely visible with the moonlight seeping in through the curtains. 
You hardly ever got nightmares when Jeonghan slept over, but you’ve had innumerable sleepless nights over the past three months, and you were hoping tonight wouldn’t be one of them with him in your apartment. 
Maybe you should check and make sure he’s still here. He could have left, could have changed his mind, could have decided he was right to end it with you and gone home to his own apartment, and you wouldn’t even know until morning.
That anxiety is enough to make you roll out of bed and pad over to the door, your steps quiet and your breath caught in your chest.��
You turn the knob as smoothly as you can, pushing the door open and wincing when it creaks. But when you look over to check if you woke Jeonghan, he’s already sitting up, the lamp on the side table on and a book from your shelf in his hands. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern, setting the book face down on the table and giving you his full attention. 
“I just wanted to… check on you,” you give him a half truth, forgetting that he always could see right through you. 
“You were scared I went home, weren't you?” He murmurs, a tinge of sadness to his voice and a remorseful frown on his face. 
“Maybe,” you fiddle with the hem of your t-shirt, avoiding his eyes. “I just had a nightmare so…”
“Was it that I left again?” He asks, pulling his legs up and making room on the couch for you before patting the cushion in front of him. You take a few steps forward and he lifts the blanket up, covering your exposed legs with it when you settle onto the sofa. 
“No, I don’t remember what happened. I just didn’t get them with you around so I thought you might not be around.”
You have to fight the urge not to crawl into his lap and curl up against him, feeling especially starved for affection after waking so abruptly. You wonder if he feels as far from you as you do from him, stuck in this limbo of being together but not together. 
You think he does when you notice the longing in his soft eyes, see the way his brows are gently furrowed and his lip is bitten between his teeth. 
“How can I help?” He wonders quietly, and you only give yourself a few seconds to think it over. 
Yes, he broke up with you for a reason that he should have talked with you about instead. Yes, you’ve missed him the past three months like you never knew you could. Yes, it’s probably too soon to let him back in like this. 
But you find you don’t care about any of that. 
You just want him close, need to know he’s here and he’s staying and he’s yours. 
So you push aside your bruised feelings and whisper in a fragile voice, “Come to bed with me?” 
He looks unsure but rises when you do, his face smoothing out as he offers you his hand and lets you tug him to your bedroom. He hovers when he crosses the threshold and it occurs to you that you might have to guide him. He was so respectful of your boundaries in the beginning of the relationship that you called almost all of the shots, and you wonder if your two years of progress have been undone over the past three months apart. 
But maybe this is a good thing, you think as you lead him over to his side of the bed and tuck him in. You’re the one who told him you can’t pick up where you left off, and you like that he’s reset a bit, that he wants to treat this like a fresh start, because it is one.  
Before, you would just crawl over him onto your side, but now you walk around the bed, climbing in and tugging the blanket over your body. You pull it up to your chin, still feeling a bit chilled, and it takes you less than sixty seconds to decide cuddling is allowed even if you’re beginning anew. 
So you roll onto your side to face him, your eyes just barely able to make him out in the dark of your bedroom. He turns his head to look at you, his hands folded together on his stomach before he reaches one out across the bed. That’s the only signal you need to close the distance and tuck yourself up under his arm, your cheek resting in the hollow of his shoulder and your hand finding his. 
He tilts his head up, pressing his lips to your forehead and sneaking a whiff of your hair as he tangles his fingers with yours. You take in a deep breath, what feels like your first since he ended things, and let your eyelids flutter shut, trusting that he’ll be here when you wake. 
“I love you,” he whispers, so low you almost don’t hear him.
“I love you, too,” you mumble back. “But if you pull that shit again, it’ll be the last thing you ever do, and I mean that.”
“Please murder me if I do. Obviously I’ve gone fucking crazy if I fuck this up again.”
You fall asleep with a smile on your face. 
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AN: yayyy i wrote something!! a randomized wheel told me to write jeonghan so i did and it turned into this and then the wheel told me to make it smutty and i was like no that is not correct! so sorry lovelies but no smut today!! it just didn't feel right after them being apart for so long and jeonghan only just starting to make it up to reader and earn her back (even if she is making it easy for him)
thank u for reading, please lmk what you think!!
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golden1u5t · 1 day
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omg could you write a rose with prompts 34 and 58 with spencer reid? with spencer being the one patched up while he and the reader are undercover. thank you!
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ꨄ pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
ꨄ genre: smut. okay really just a heavy make out ses since they’re working yk
ꨄ prompt: rose 34 “do i make you nervous?” and rose 58 “Tension: one muse is patching up the other's injuries which leads to intense eye contact, lingering touches and them finally crashing their lips against each other's.”
ꨄ summary: spencer had gotten hurt on a case and it’s up to you to patch him up, which would be no problem if the tension between you wasn’t so thick.
ꨄ a/n: okay so i was picturing maybe reader who is like a ex doctor or has a medical degree and post prison reid but of course, you don’t have picture that.
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“you’re really stupid, you know that?” you state as you grabbed the bottle of hydrogen peroxide. spencer let out a chuckle that quickly turned into a low groan when you lifted his shirt and poured a good amount of the peroxide on his stab wound. his head tips back against the counter and you can't help but look up at him, your eyes lingering on the bulge of his adam's apple for far too long.
spencer looked back down just in time to catch you staring at him. you quickly looked away and grabbed a gauze out of your bag, but your hands were shaking with nerves and caused you to drop the package before you could get it open.
he watched as you bent down and grabbed the package, you tore it open and lifted his shirt again. the room you were in was so quiet you could hear each other’s breathing, or maybe that was because of how close you were. you didn’t want to look up because you knew he was already staring at you and that would just make you even more nervous than you already were.
you made quick work of finishing patching him up and cleaning up your mess. after you were done you turned around to the sink to wash your hands. spencer could tell you were washing your hands longer than needed so you didn’t have to face him. so he slid off the counter and walked up behind you, caging you in by placing his hands on either side of you.
“do i make you nervous?” he asked, watching as you tensed. you turned off the faucet before spinning around so you were face to face, you could feel his breath fanning over your face with how close he was.
“i’m not- why would i be nervous?” spencer’s gaze dropped down to your lips for a quick moment before he met your eyes again. you couldn’t help but mirror him and do the same, except your gaze lingered on his lips far longer than he did.
“your body language is telling me you’re nervous.”
“yeah? what else is it telling you?” you met his eyes again as your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips. you weren’t sure where the sudden wave of confidence came from but you could feel it slipping away with each passing second you stood there under his gaze.
“well, you keep looking at my lips and subconsciously leaning towards me. that tells me you want me, want to kiss me.” a low chuckle left his lips as he stared at you, he shook his head before taking a step back. you reached out and wrapped your hand around his wrist to stop him from walking away.
“would you do it if i asked? to kiss me, i mean.” you asked, letting go of him when you got his attention again. spencer paused for a moment, thinking of all the things he could say in response to you. kissing you is something he’s thought about many times before, hell, he's thought about doing a lot more than kissing if he was being honest.
“is that your way of asking me to kiss you?” he took a step closer to you, already ready to kiss you as soon as you said the word. there was a moment of silence between you, you both just looking into each other's eyes waiting for you to say that one word that could change everything for you.
it took you a moment to find the courage but when you did you confirmed that it was your way of asking him to kiss you. as soon as you got the words out of your mouth spencer was cupping your face and bringing his lips to yours. your arms went around his neck as you leaned into him more.
spencer’s hands fell from your face to gripping your thighs, he effortlessly hoisted you up and sat you on the counter. spencer groaned into your mouth when you ran your fingers through his hair and gave it a gentle tug. your skin felt like it was on fire because of the way his hands felt roaming underneath your shirt, the way he kissed you like his life depended on it, and the ache between your legs that was growing stronger with each passing second he kissed you.
you were sure that if he kissed you like that for the rest of your lives you would be the happiest woman alive. unfortunately, spencer had to pull away because of the lack of air but that gave you the chance to bury your head in the crook of his neck and discover new places with your lips. while you kissed and nipped at his skin he reached down and started to unbutton your jeans.
being able to go all the way with him would have been a dream come true for you but unfortunately you were still on the job and that means your moment was interrupted by emily coming into the room you were in to let you know what they’ve recently discovered.
“just to let you know-” she stopped in her tracks when she looked up to see you and spencer jumping away from each other. her eyes jumped between you two, taking in your unbuttoned jeans and spencers disheveled hair. you cleared your throat as you buttoned your jeans back up, your heart was racing so fast you could hear it in your ears.
emily was your unit chief, yes, but she was your friend before any of that so instead of making a big deal she excused herself to give you both some time to straighten back up before joining the others.
you and spencer couldn’t bring yourselves to say anything after that, the only noise that filled the room was the sound of your heavy breathing and the laugh you shared as the realization of what happened donned on you. before you made it to the common area where everyone else was, spencer pulled you behind a wall to give you one last kiss.
it made you feel like a teenager sneaking around with the boy your parents told you to stay away from but you would do it a million times over if that meant you could experience kissing him for the first time all over again.
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crvptidgf · 2 days
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Don’t Tell Your Brother
Rafe Cameron x Reader
➸ summary: you’re sick of keeping your relationship a secret, but rafe isn’t so sure about outing it yet
➸ warnings/notes: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, reader is fem
word count: 1.3k
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IF THERE WAS one thing Rafe was good at it was keeping secrets. Whether it be for his father, Barry - or even sometimes Wheezie. He was a master at it, which is probably why he found this arrangement so easy.
It wasn’t that he liked keeping you hidden. It was more that it was necessary. Your brother wouldn’t take too kindly to the kook prince “corrupting” his only sister. Plus, a part of him kind of loved sneaking around and having you all to himself (something he would never openly admit to).
Rafe listened to your heavy breathing as he brushed his fingertips across your shoulder blade. Before he met you he would’ve never been caught dead cuddling with anyone; but that was what he liked about you. You pushed his boundaries (within reason) and forced him to see new perspectives. To become better.
Lifting your flushed face to meet his, you decided to break the silence. “Rafe?”
He shifted his gaze from the ceiling to your expectant eyes. He could never get enough of how you looked in bed with him, your hair wild and your eyes glazed over as your spent body curled into his. You were breathtaking.
“Hm?” he responded.
“Will it always be like this?”
Rafe took in your glistening skin and furrowed brows. If you hadn’t been asking him a question he probably would’ve occupied his mind with counting every mark and blemish on your face instead of listening.
“Like what?” he finally asked. He already knew where this was going. Sometimes he just liked to prolong the inevitable by acting clueless - because occasionally you would give up and switch the conversation to something more lighthearted.
“Rafe,” you groaned. “I mean all this pretending we’re doing. I hate acting like I hate you in front of John B.”
Your boyfriend sighed, dejection taking over his once calm features. When you first met him you never ever thought you could be the source of his peace, much less the one to turn him into a ball of domestic mush.
“Baby,” he started to say.
“Don’t ‘baby’ me. You’re not getting out of this one so fast,” you quickly interrupted, already knowing his tricks to try and distract you.
Rafe merely rolled his eyes as his hand lowered to squeeze your waist. “Okay, okay.”
Another sigh.
“What are you in such a rush for, anyway?” he asked, his ringed digits coming to rub at the buzzed hair on his scalp. “You were the one who wanted us to keep this from them.”
You rested your head in your palm now, elbow digging into Rafe’s impossibly soft mattress. He had offered to buy you one for your room after you complained about how much comfier his bed was - but ultimately you had to refuse. There would be too many lingering questions about how you could afford such a luxury.
Truthfully that was one of the hardest things Rafe had to grapple with. He couldn’t spoil you like he wanted to without causing alarm bells to sound in all of the pogue’s minds.
“I know. And you were the one who was against it. Why’re you so adamant on the secrecy now?”
A small glint sparkled in his eye.
“You don’t think it’s hot?”
It was your turn to sigh and roll your eyes. This man always found a way to make things dirty, even when the situation was far from it. “Are you really this horny after all that?” you asked, referring to the several exhaustive minutes you guys just spent in too many positions to count.
“What?” he queried, feigning innocence. “You don’t think all the fake hate act is hot? I like seeing you get all riled up knowing that I’m still the only one who gets to take you home that night.”
Goddamnit he was good at distracting you.
“Rafe,” you all but whined as you dropped your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m serious.”
Hands caressed the back of your head, petting your unruly hair down. “So am I.”
Your hand rested on his naked chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. There was something so relaxing and homely about this. Both of you entangled in each other under Rafe’s sheets, your hands roaming over every body part you could reach, your breaths harmonizing into one. If only this was a common occurrence - not just in the confines of his bedroom at 1 in the morning.
“You’re thinking again,” stated the man bluntly. “Don’t.”
“I should get back soon.”
Sitting up you began to look around the room, attempting to find any of your discarded items and clothes. If you left now you could still get some sleep before everybody back at home woke up.
“C’mon don’t be like that,” Rafe said as he grabbed your wrist.
You shook your head in disbelief. “Be like what? If you want this charade to keep going I have to get home.”
“Just tell them you were with-“
“With who, Rafe? Who can I force to lie for me this time?”
You knew it was unfair to get mad at him, but you just wanted to be able to stay at your boyfriend’s house without stress for once. This was getting tiring and you didn’t understand how Rafe couldn’t see it.
Pulling your underwear up your legs you moved to stand up. “I know it was my idea in the first place - but I didn’t think we’d keep it going for so long.”
Your boyfriend only watched as you paced around, grabbing your bra and t-shirt off the floor. “And anyway it’s none of anyone’s business who I date. I don’t know why I cared to start with,” you mumbled.
He knew you were frustrated. Sometimes he felt that way too, but seeing how many things you and your brother had to worry about back at the Chateau, he didn’t wanna add to it by exposing your ongoing relationship so soon.
“Hey listen,” he said, trying to gain your attention.
When you didn’t so much as spare a glance at him, he rubbed his eyes in annoyance. So stubborn.
“Babe, listen. C’mere.”
Still nothing.
Standing up from the bed, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder. It was a shockingly common occurrence. You would ignore him during an argument or disagreement and he would get sick of it and carry you to bed where he’d force you to talk it out. He insisted that he hated when you ‘sulked’.
“Rafe! Put me down!”
You landed on the bed with a bounce, your shirt half on your body and your bra still clutched in your hand. Rafe grabbed it and threw it off the bed.
His hands were at either side of your head. In any other situation you’d have started jumping his bones. These thoughts left your mind as Rafe’s next words left his mouth.
“We can tell them - if you promise to let me help you with the rent this month.”
Of course he would have some sort of stupid bargain for this agreement.
“No I can’t ask you to-“
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”
He could tell you were thinking about it, weighing your options. If he could pay for this, maybe John B wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass when the eventual news came out. Perhaps he’d see how serious Rafe was about you.
Well, also, he just liked to spoil you.
You groaned. “Fine.”
With a kiss on the lips, the deal was sealed. “But only for that month, right?” you asked in between the final kiss.
Rafe nodded, letting you believe you were in control of this. What he didn’t clue you in on, however, is that he fully planned for you to move in with him after your next due date was paid. He figured he could let the surprise wait.
“Yes. But for now lemme just have you to myself,” he muttered against your collarbone.
Maybe getting home could wait for now.
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rninies · 2 days
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✮ one bite
౨ৎ veritas ratio x reader. fluff, gn!reader, ratio has bad taste in ice cream (sorry not sorry), modern!au, ratio is a model here LOL — wc: 465
notes. i love my silly tsundere also, if i open a taglist for hsr fics would anyone want to join? </3
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going out with veritas on dates is a rare occurrence, especially since he’s busy 24/7. the only few times you could go on one is when it’s either a public holiday or just a rare free day off his manager gives.
today was one of those free lucky day off. veritas has booked a restaurant in advance, so here you are, sitting in an ice cream shop after eating in a fancy restaurant (you wanted dessert and veritas couldn’t say no).
“can i get a bite of your ice cream?” you asked veritas after receiving both of your ice cream orders. “i wanna try it.”
“no,” veritas raises his ice cream cup higher so you aren’t able to reach it. “i’m not going to give you a bite because i know you’re not going to like it. then you’re going to ask me how the hell i like it, and i don’t want to listen to that right now.”
your jaw drops in disbelief. “how would you know i don’t like it?! i haven’t even tried!”
“i know your taste, and knowing what type of food you like and stuff, you will hate the ice cream i chose.” veritas points out pretty obviously.
you frowned in response, eating your ice cream in disappointment. “you’re so mean to me sometimes, i hate you. so stingy.”
“stingy?” veritas repeats, sounding offended. “i’m just trying to save myself from your nagging on my food tastes,” he gives you a smug grin, and you were so close to just slapping the grin away from his face. “plus, you have your own ice cream.”
“you know how much i love taking small bites from yours! just one bite, i promise i won’t complain about how disgusting it tastes,” you swear, placing a hand over your heart to show your sincerity (or at least you tried to show how sincere you look).
veritas stares at you for five seconds straight and lets out a begrudging sigh. “fine, but if i hear one word of complaint escape your mouth i am taking away those chips you love.”
you nodded quickly, taking veritas's ice cream in your hands. you observed it for a while before taking a small bite — veritas was right. you hated this, but knowing that he will get angry at you for complaining, you kept it to yourself. “mm… delicious…” you hesitantly veritas, handing veritas his ice cream back.
he looks at you with a weird look. “really? are you sure you like it?”
you nod, not wanting to say anything else because you know you’re going to complain. veritas leads you back to the car, driving back home.
“...that ice cream tasted so disgusting.” you ended up saying in the middle of the ride.
“i fucking knew it.”
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loveluvrs · 9 hours
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she's my pretty girl l lando norris x reader
request/summary – AHH HI MARYAM!!! it's shelbi:) i NEED a lando fic where he takes reader to the paddock for the first time and EVERYONE sees they totally like each other (but they complete oblivious idiots) — 🌟
author's notes – i loved writing this one!!! thank you to bff @keerysfreckles for the wonderful req <33 ALSO LANDO SPRINT POLE WOOOOO!!!!!
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My fingers hover over the send button. I sigh as I delete the message again. Lan, I don’t know if I can. There’s gonna be so many cameras and so many people and you know people will think we’re dating for sure, I text my best friend Lando.
Come on, pretty girl, I’ll be right there with you the whole time. I promise, he texts back.
:(( come over tonight for movie night and we’ll talk about it, I text as I felt the anxiety already growing in me.
Lando helps me set up movie night. Popcorn bowl in hand, I slot myself next to Lando, our hips touching as I slightly lean into him, placing the bowl in between us. “Time to talk?” He asks expectantly. I groan. “Oh come on, let me at least distract myself for a little bit before we start this headache of a discussion again,” I say as I scrunch up my face in playful annoyance. Lando laughs at this, placing a small kiss on the tip of my nose as he says, “okay miss dramatic.” 
I pout. “Lan, you know how my anxiety gets. And that’s just in general. With all those cameras on me? I mean, it’s gonna be suffocating,” I say with a nervous gulp. Just thinking about all the attention made me anxious.
He puts on a soft smile. “I know, pretty girl. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I just know you’ve been really wanting to go to a race, and I thought what better time than here in Silverstone so you don’t have to take any extra flights? But really, I won’t make you go unless you’re comfortable with it, alright?” He says softly with 100% focus and attention and determination in his voice. That was one thing I could always count on; if I was feeling anxious about something, no matter how small, Lando would be there to take me seriously and comfort me through it. 
“I want to be there for you, you know I do,” I say softly with a frown, “there’s nothing I want to do more than support my best friend, my favorite person, at his home race.” 
“Pretty pretty girl, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I understand, okay? And I won’t think anything less of you based on whether or not you come. I’ll still love you all the same,” he says softly as he puts my hand in his and squeezes it to comfort me. 
——
The next morning, I showed up to the paddock a little late, since I had to curb an oncoming anxiety attack in the morning. I also hadn’t told Lando that I was going to be coming, so I had no idea where to go. By the time I reached, Lando was already in the car for the first practice session. 
After the practice session was over, Lando stalked back into the Mclaren garage, talking with his race engineer about some of the data they picked up. He stops in his tracks when he sees me and immediately engulfs me in a hug. His hands wrap around my waist and my arms wrap around his neck. 
“Hey! I didn’t know you decided to come?” He says with his signature bright smile as he held me close. I hum. “I was just a bit late in the morning, sorry about that,” I say softly. “Nothing to be sorry about, pretty girl,” he says softly as he places a soft kiss on the top of my head before letting me go. 
Since that moment, unless he was in a team meeting or in the car, Lando stayed attached by the hip to you. You couldn’t decide if it was comforting or overwhelming, to be honest. On one hand, he made sure to be there so he could explain everything to you and introduce you to everyone, and whisk you away when he felt like it was getting all too much for you. On the other hand, his presence meant a herd of cameras would almost surely follow my every move if I was with him. 
Oscar, for one, got a bit tired of the fact that every time he saw his teammate, Lando was too busy making heart eyes at you to even think about anything else. “Why don’t you just admit you’re madly in love with her?” He asks Lando with an exasperated sigh after the two of them are walking back from a media briefing. 
“She knows I love her,” Lando says casually. Oscar rolls his eyes and scoffs at the response. “Okay she knows you love her, but she doesn’t know you’re in love with her,” he explains. Lando gives Oscar a confused look. “Mate, you’ve just said the same thing twice,” he says as his eyes begin to scan the crowd for you. Oscar groans before walking off in frustration, wondering when on Earth these two idiots were gonna realize they’re both in love with each other. 
Later that evening, Lando and I walk into his hotel room after he was done with everything for the day. I lay down in the bed immediately, exhausted from all the socializing I had to do all day. Lando laughs at this, “sleepyhead,” he teases in a murmur. He takes a quick shower and changes into a comfy hoodie and sweats before coming back and laying on the bed next to me. I’m sat watching some spy movie on the tv. He tilts his head at the tv, “what’re you watching?” He asks curiously. 
“Honestly, no idea,” I say with a giggle, “I just saw that Theo James was in it so I had to watch.” Lando settles into bed as we watch. Eventually, he finds my gaze on him and his lap, which was clearly not as subtle as I wanted it to be. He nudges me playfully with his elbow. “C’mere,” he says softly as he pats his lap. I, who was clearly in my own thoughts, seemed to wake up out of my trance. “Huh?” I ask in confusion. He holds his arms wide for me, “come here and cuddle,” he says softly.
I waste no time before doing as he says, laying in between his legs, my back to his chest. His arms wrap around my waist and he places a soft kiss on my head. I hum in content as I relax into him. Lando always knew when I needed some physical affection, which was useful because there was nothing I hated more than having to ask for some love. “I love you,” he whispers as his face burrows into my neck, placing a kiss there. I’m about to respond when Oscar suddenly enters the room. “Hey mate, have you seen my- uh. Sorry, am I interrupting something here?” He asks as his eyes dart between Lando and I, and the extremely close position we seem to be in. 
“Nope! Just cuddling. What’s up?” Lando asks nonchalantly. Oscar’s eyebrows raise at Lando’s answer. “You know what, never mind, I think I know where I’ve left it,” he says as he slowly backs out of the room. 
“What was that all about?” I ask in confusion. “Hmm, who knows, he’s been acting weird all day,” Lando says as he resumes placing kisses on my neck and shoulder. “I love you,” he repeats again in a gentle tone. I hum. “I love you too,” I say softly. “I’m so insanely happy you decided to come to the paddock today, honestly,” he says in a quiet yet soft murmur, “don’t think I could be any happier than having my pretty girl with me.” “Why are you trying to flatter me?” I tease him with a giggle. He scoffs, “sorry. Didn’t know I couldn’t be nice to my best friend,” he retorts playfully.  
We go out for dinner an hour later with Oscar and Lily. I instinctively sat next to Lando as usual. I’m scrolling through Twitter while we wait for our food when I feel Lando’s hand intertwine with mine. I think nothing of it, but see Oscar and Lily exchange a glance towards each other. 
“You owe me 5 pounds,” Oscar whispered in a hushed voice to Lily with a sassy smile tugging on his lips. “No, you said 5 pounds for the heart eyes,” Lily whispers back defensively. “Oh come on, that’s basically the same thing! It’ll happen in a few minutes anyways,” Oscar whispers playfully. “I so badly wanted us to be proven wrong and for something to happen,” Lily says quietly to Oscar in a sympathetic voice. “They’re both idiots, I don’t think either of them will figure it out,” he says with a laugh. 
The laugh catches both Lando and I’s attention as we look up from our phones. “Hmm? Did you two say anything to us?” Lando asks curiously. “Oh, uh no. Don’t worry about it,” Oscar says with an embarrassed smile. The rest of the night goes by with hushed remarks from Oscar every once in a while every time Lando does something like giving me some of his own dish since my portion size was small, or when he asks if I’m okay after I drop the fork under the table and hit my head on the table when I try sitting back up, or when he just simply listens to me like I’m the only person in the room. 
——
“You’ve been staring at her for five minutes now,” Oscar says as Lando stares at you from across the paddock as you talk to Lewis. “Shut up,” Lando mutters as he tries to sound annoyed by utterly fails because he could never be annoyed while you were in his line of sight. 
I walk up to him a minute later, a bright smile on my face. “Guess what!” I say excitedly as Lando’s hand instinctively wraps around my waist. He hums. “Tell me what’s got you all happy, pretty girl,” he says with a soft smile.
“Lewis said that he’d take me out tonight to visit that new café I was telling you about, remember?” I say excitedly. Lando immediately frowns. “Lewis? Why didn’t you ask me to take you there?” He asks as he tries to not let his jealousy show. “Well I know you aren’t really into that type of thing, I looked at the menu and you wouldn’t have eaten anything there,” I say casually. 
“Well still. I don’t care. I’m coming with,” Lando said with a tone of finality. Suddenly Oscar started speaking. “Guys did you know theres a new movie coming out with Zendaya? The Jealous Man?” He says with a look towards Lando. Lando took the hint with an unamused expression on his face. “You know what? I think I’ve got a team thing tonight, so I’ll have to skip out. Sorry pretty girl, but have fun with Lewis, hmm?” He says softly. “You sure? We can wait for you if you want,” I say softly, not wanting Lando to miss out if he wanted to go. Lando shakes his head. “Nah nah nah, even if you wait, I’d be far too tired later,” I says as he takes my hand in his. 
——
Lando sat staring at his phone while he sits in his hotel room’s bed. He had tried everything to keep him occupied; working out, eating, the sim, talking to Oscar, facetiming Max, but nothing could keep his mind off of the thought of you and Lewis together. He groans as he caves in, texting you. 
pretty girlllllllllll, where are you? I miss you :(, he texts with clear desperation in his text. 
hi! Lewis and I are gonna go for a walk on the beach before heading back. Is that okay? I text, not wanting him to feel too lonely while I was gone. 
Lando sighed at my message. yeah don’t worry, pretty girl, have fun, he texts back, I love you. 
When I finally get back to the hotel, I’m exhausted. I kick off my shoes to find Lando already asleep. I get changed into some sweats and lie next to him. “Lan?” I whisper softly, “‘m sorry I was late, I know you missed me.” I sighed when I got no reply back, so I simply scooted towards him, my arms wrapping around him from behind. “I love you,” I whispered into the dark. I heard a slight grumble afterwards. “Love you too,” came a murmur from Lando. 
The next morning I met Lando and Oscar at the paddock before qualifying, but Lando seemed a bit distant. So I went up to him while he was talking to Oscar
“Are you mad I went out to spend time with Lewis instead of you last night?” I ask Lando in a quiet voice with a frown on my face.
Lando turned around to face me. “Oh, pretty girl, I could never be mad at you,” he says as his voice softens, “I love you. Just missed you, that’s all.” “You’ve been ignoring me this whole morning,” I say as my frown deepens. His entire body deflates at the sight of your frown. “No no no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to. Sorry if it felt like that,” he says softly as his hands wrap around my waist to give me a hug. “Love you,” he murmurs into my hair, “I promise.” 
Oscar rolls his eyes at the scene with an amused laugh. “Heart eyes, five pounds,” he mouths behind Lando, knowing that Lando would have melted the second you came into view. 
“God, these two will stay idiots forever,” Oscar muttered under his breath with a laugh as he looked at the very obviously love-stricken pair in front of him. 
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rafesfavgirl · 2 days
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her lips on your neck — j. maybank
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meant to have this up last night, but i got fucked up lolz
❝ since you admitted it, i keep picturing her lips on your neck, i can't unsee it ❞
pairing: cheater!jj x fem!reader
context: late at night, you get back to the obx from a week-long trip to new york with your parents and decide to surprise your boyfriend and best friends.
words: 1.4k+
warnings: cheating (i don't condone it!!), might break you, no happy ending, ANGST ANGST ANGST
"what the fuck are we suppose to tell y/n?" you hear pope mention your name, as he sat with john b in the enclosed back porch of the chateau and immediately stop yourself from joining them, curious as to what else they had to say.
"dude, i don't know," john b shrugged at him, the expression on his face looking as if he was torn between some hard decision.
what could they possibly be talking about?
"i mean, it's not like they meant for it to happen, right?" john b continued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of something.
"do you really think she'll see it that way?" pope asks him. "jj just slept with kie."
john b winces at pope's words like they were too hard for him to hear and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your eyes becoming blurry with tears as anger starts coursing through your veins.
"we gotta tell her," pope adds.
they didn't even hear that you'd entered the porch, now only standing a few feet away from them.
"you just did." the sound of your voice causes them to snap their heads towards you, both of them now completely at a loss for words. "is jj here?" you speak slowly to stop your voice from shaking.
when neither of them reply and just exchange glances, you repeat yourself. "where's. jj."
"y/n…" john b starts to stand from his seat, but you don't let him finish or get any closer, before you're barging into the chateau.
you feel your body shake as jj comes out of one of the rooms chuckling and pulling his muscle tank down.
"you didn't," you shake your head as he looks at you.
"y/n…"
when kiara comes out of the same room and steps up behind him, you get your answer.
"you did," you say, your eyes shifting from kie to jj.
"babe, i-" jj begins, taking a step towards you.
"no," you immediately cut him off and hold a hand out in front of you to stop him from getting any closer. “we’re done.”
that was two weeks ago. you hadn’t seen jj, or your friends since then, actively trying to avoid them as much as possible. that didn’t stop them from texting though.
john b and pope have checked in every now and then to make sure you’re doing okay, while kie and jj blow your phone up 24/7 with empty apologies.
j<3: i’m outside. please let me explain.
you stare at the text on your phone for a second and hop to your feet to peek out the window, where surely enough, you saw jj perched against his bike on the curb of your front lawn, waiting.
letting out a deep sigh and against your better judgment, you walk towards the front door and open it, only to find that he had walked up your front porch and was about to knock.
“hey…” his voice is small, and his baby blue eyes light up at the sight of you, making your heart ache.
by the prominent eye bags under them, you could tell he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. but wasn’t that how it should have been? he was the one who cheated on you.
you don’t say a word and just turn to walk further into your living room, jj following after you and shutting the door.
“i know you don’t owe me anything,” he continues, as you turn to look at him again, your arms crossed across your chest.
“you’re right, i don’t,” you say, trying to be cold.
it was hard, though. there was a piece of your heart that still yearned for him. a piece that you had a feeling would love him forever. no matter how badly he’s just screwed you over.
“why’d you do it?” you ask.
“i don’t know,” he shrugs. “i don’t know why i did it. we were drinking… and talking… you weren’t here, and i- i guess we just…”
“what?” you feel your hand start to shake as he tried to come up with an excuse. “got caught up in the moment?”
“y- yeah…” he glances down, and you scoff.
“god, i am such an idiot!” you run your hands through your hair and take a seat on the armchair behind you.
“y/n that’s not…” he slowly approaches you while you shake your head at him.
“i should’ve known,” you say. “it was her before me.”
jj shakes his head as he closes the distance between the two of you and crouches down in front of you, a hand landing on your knee. “baby, that’s not true.”
you glance at his hand on your knee before looking at him again. “but it is.”
“look, i fucked up, okay?” he said, his tone desperate now. “i know that. but please… please believe me when i tell you that it was a mistake. and it’s never going to happen again.”
“how can i believe that?” you ask, tears threatening to brim along your lower lashes. 
“just trust me,” he tells you.
a bitter scoff falls from your lips as you stand up and cross the room, half angry and half confused, not knowing what to think or believe.
“i did trust you, j!” you say, turning to look at him again with tears in your eyes as he gets up from his crouching position and faces you. “and you screwed me over anyway.”
“y/n…” he walks towards you, and you feel your weight shift to one foot, your body feeling a little limp. 
there was a part of you that still loved him—feelings don’t disappear just like that—but you knew you deserved better. that there was someone out there who wouldn’t even think about doing what he did.
"i love you…" he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and push your hair back, your first instinct causing you to lean into his touch, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you lock your eyes with his. "pretty girl." he closes the distance between you two, his forehead resting against yours, a tear trailing down your cheek as you closed your eyes. "i am so so so sorry. i promise— i promise, i won't ever hurt you again."
you wanted nothing more than to believe him. to forgive him. to forget. but you knew, deep down, that wasn't possible.
you shake you hear against his, sniffling. "j, i can't…"
"no, no, no," he replied. "you can. you— you have to, i can't-" he tilts his chin upwards to kiss you, and though you want desperately to let him, you push him away.
"no, jj!" you shout. "you— you can't just kiss me and think it's all gonna go away!"
"okay, okay, i'm not," he backs off a little, and then takes your hands in his, baby blues pleading. "but you need to forgive me. i could never live with myself if you didn't. i— i can't go on without you… without…" he brings your hands together and clasps his hands around them as he brings them up to his lips to kiss them softly. "your touch…" he moves a hand towards your cheek again, caressing it just like last time. "your smile…" he trails it across your collar bone and down your arm to place it on your chest. "your love… god, y/n i’ve never been loved by anyone like you."
his face falls limp against you and he drops to his knees, arms immediately locking around your hips as he rests the side of his head against you.
"please… please forgive me," his voice sounds desperate now, breaking your heart even more.
"i— i can't…" you wrap your hands around his arms and try to pull him off you, but it doesn't work—he just clutches onto you tighter. "you're just not the same person to me anymore…" you shake your head. "the jj i fell for would've never ever done anything to hurt me, but now…" you bring your hands up to your head, trying to keep it together. "god! every time i look at you… all i see is her and what you did… i— i just keep picturing you guys together and-"
"and we can fix that," jj pulls away and gets back on his feet to look at you. "i mean, it's gon' take time, but eventually… you— you can forget it, right?"
there was a hopeful look in his eyes, but you knew that wasn't enough to fix things.
you shake your head and sigh, the hope in his eyes immediately diminishing. "no, i don't think i can."
"but that— that would mean that this…" his voice cracks, his mind clearly in disarray as he motions a hand between you two. "no. this can't be over."
your watery eyes lock with his, which were now red from holding back tears. "then why is it?"
if you happen to also be a rafe girl, consider this part 2 & part 3.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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heaven4lostgirls · 1 day
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I deserve better (A.H)
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warning: angst, breakups, mentions of haley's death, reader is compared to haley, breakdowns, aaron has healing to do</3
summary: aaron comes home from a hard case with his decision already made, he's in for a very rude awakening when reader sees right through his bs.
word count: 1.5k
There was a loneliness in the air that felt almost palpable after your breakup with Aaron. It felt like an amalgamation of every broken promise and empty silences you both sat in, trying to grasp onto invisible strings surrounding your love. If you thought hard enough, you could almost clearly imagine what used to be his breathing when he used to lie on the now cold side of the bed. His presence haunted every empty corner of your now prodigious apartment.
You closed your eyes in the dark as your mind unwillingly drifted to the conversation with your now ex-boyfriend.      The sound of the door opening to Aaron’s home made you look away from the television as you waited with bated breath and a smile to see your boyfriend, only the expression he held on his face when your gazes met was one you knew you would commit to memory. Guilt, anguish. Probably worse if you had bothered to push deeper but you knew that you couldn’t do that yourself.
“Aaron?” your voice echoes in the living room and all he can do is hesitate, you watch as his hands shake as he places his badge, gun and bag down before making his way to you, his steps purposeful yet cautious and deep down you knew that whatever he was going to say was going to change the trajectory of your relationship.
“Hey” he whispers as he sits on the opposite end of the couch which only cements your worries, maybe he’s finally decided that him and Jack didn’t need another addition to their family, maybe he’s decided he’s had enough of you. “We need to talk” he starts, and your only response is a small nod as your underlying anxiety bubbles under your skin like a festering wound.
 “This- This case, it really made me realise something.” He starts and you can already feel your expression shifting from worry to confusion, he must recognise your own emotions as you do his as he continues swiftly. “The unsub mentioned you when we caught him, he knew your name” he says harshly and you look at him shocked, why hadn’t he told you any of this when you’d called him after he had wrapped up the case? “I promised myself when Haley passed away that I would never put someone I cared about in the position to be used against me” he says and your heart drops.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask out of genuine curiosity. He closes his eyes and clenches his hands into fists, “I think you know.” He croaks out and you scoff which only causes him to look at you  in confusion, “You’re being selfish” you bite out and he looks alarmed at the harsh words. “You’re not even letting me choose what I want to do about my OWN safety?” you ask harshly but soft enough as to not wake Jack up.
 He’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence, “you don’t get it!” he insists as he implores you understand what he’s saying. “you-you’ve never had to hold your d-dead wife’s body in your hands, wishing for her to come back, wishing you could tell her how much she means to you” he insists as his eyes well with tears and your heart drops at his confession.
“And I hope I never have to feel that, but Aaron you can’t keep taking your grief out on our relationship, I  know it hurts, but how  am I supposed to think you’re ending this for me when you’re putting Haley first even in death?” you whisper and against your own better judgement, you feel a few tears fall from your eyes.
“That-That is NOT what is happening.” He says again and you can see the frustration boiling over for him, “That’s not fair to me Aaron, you know that” you say, and you watch as confusion shifts on his features, “Wait no hold on, I didn’t mean it like that-”
“You didn’t have to. I always thought you’d meant in a constructive way for me, consistently telling me when I make Jack’s meals that it’s not the way Haley would’ve made it, when you tell me not to buy certain perfumes and body washes because it reminded you too much of Haley. But now I realise that you’ve been carrying this dead weight after her death, and it’s not fair for me to be carrying it with you. I will never replace Haley, but I do know that I deserve a lot more than being compared to her everyday just because you haven’t dealt with your grief.”
“Honey, hold on, just wait please-”
“I was going to fight for you Aaron , truly.  I came into this conversation thinking of ways to help you not give up on us, but I can’t do that when the one thing pushing you is a woman I can never compete with.”
Aaron looks distraught and your heart feels simultaneously lighter and broken at the same time, His healing needed to take priority and you knew that his journey didn’t necessarily have space for you. And that was okay, at the end of the day the one thing you had always wished was to see Aaron Hotchner happy, and if that meant he had to do it without you, you would deal.
“I love you” he says, his eyes begging you to believe him, and your lips lift at his statement, as they’ve done a million times before, a force of habit. You shift closer to him and grasp his hand in yours as you place your other one on his face. His eyes close at the contact and he starts shaking his head, “Don’t- don’t do this right now. Please don’t do this Y/N.” his voice cracks.
Your lips quivers and you attempt to move your hand to smother the sob building in your chest but as your hand lifts off of his cheek his eyes are open wide, alarmed to feel you slipping away and he grasps you closer to him, looking into your eyes wildly as you look into his eyes, hoping all of your love is shining through them. “You know I have to.” You whisper and his expression is pained as he feels your hands run through his hair.
“I  can’t do this without you” he confesses as he chokes on his tears, his hands grasping to your hips and arms as though you’d disappear if he looked away. “You’re going to be just fine, I promise” you say, and he shakes his head before the sobs escape him and he leans his head into your body as sobs wrack through his body. Warbled cries of “I’m sorry” flood from him and all you can do is hold him through it, hoping it  brings him some form of comfort.
You console him until he tires himself out, he looks so much more peaceful when he’s asleep, his furrowed brow is smoothed out and if not for the tear tracks running down his cheeks you would never be able to know how much pain he was just in. You manoeuvre him to lay on the couch, a suitable enough pillow under his head and a soft blanket covering him. Your hand still lays outstretched in his grip, and you bite your lip as you try to let him let go.
As  soon as your hand leaves his grip, he’s  whimpering and grasping for some form of contact from you, you quickly snatch one of Jack’s teddy bears from the floor and you place it within his grasp, he grasps it almost immediately and holds it close to his chest. Your eyes mist over and you take a few minutes to breathe deeply and once calm, you quickly plan.
You take an old overnight bag you used to use before you started staying for weekends, such as this one. You pack the clothes you use the most and some work essentials before packing up your toiletries and everything else that can fit in your car. Everything looks so immensely empty when all your stuff is gone, with a quick little kiss to Jack’s cheek, you switch on your car, and you drive the route to your apartment.
In the silence and solace of your car, you allow yourself to break, sobs wrack through your body and your scream and cry as you make the drive to your place. You break again when you see the emptiness and coldness of your apartment, there’s none of Jack’s drawings on the fridge, none of Aarons past case files on the dining table, none of their shoes at the entrance and none of everything of what you loved and missed dearly.
Which brings you to now, in your bed, unable to look at the other side usually occupied by an Aaron sized lump. You don’t sleep, when the sun starts rising and coming through your room, you don’t move. When your alarm goes off at 7AM, you don’t move. When Aaron’s name flashes on your screen with multiple unanswered calls, you don’t move. You eventually get  up to go to work and exist throughout the day.
Nobody asks you what’s wrong and you don’t divulge, you know it will take you a long time to feel okay enough to even see Aaron again but for now, you can mourn and think of what could have been as you learn how to live without half of yourself.
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foreingersgod · 2 days
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Can you write a CC x reader fic about reader meeting the team for the first time.
Like Caitlin forgets her practice jersey at home and you drop it off and they all wonder who you are??
Her Jersey . CC
pairing: caitlin clark x reader
synopsis: you and caitlin’s relationship has always been low key, so how will the team react when you bring her her jersey unannounced?
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
you weren’t something caitlin was trying to hide, nor was she ashamed of you by any means. but she had requested at the beginning of your relationship to just keep things quiet. you were both busy people, having so many things to worry about. you with a fairly religious family who wouldn’t be very thrilled to see you dating a woman, and caitlin with a recently large following who didn’t want to bring unwanted attention to you. she would love to show you off on social media and in person, but risking the hate comments and your well being was too much of a risk.
so you guys kept your relationship low key, not announcing it to anyone at all, including caitlin’s teammates. as much as you wanted to meet them officially and as much as caitlin wanted to flaunt you and brag about how lucky she was, you knew it would be too risky to tell any one.
but your ‘secret’ relationship had its perks. you were the only one who got to know the real caitlin, the one who cherished you behind closed doors, no one else. yes, you were often sad that you couldn’t do stereotypical couple things. like going out to dinner dates, the movies, or do all the fun couples trends. but you were appreciative of what you had: late nights at your apartment, being treated to breakfast in her bed, long and steamy showers shared together. you found a way to make it work.
one day, as you were sitting on your couch after caitlin left your apartment for practice, you had noticed a bright yellow piece of cloth tucked into one of the cushions. pulling it free, you had realized that she had left her jersey at your apartment. it had probably gotten stuck in your couch when you heatedly pulled it over her head as you straddled her lap, eager to see her when she came over late after her game last night. your cheeks were heating up as you reminisced to last nights events.
quickly pulling yourself from your day dream (you could have sat there all day thinking about last night if you could) you shot a text to caitlin, asking if she needed it.
you: hey babe, i just noticed you left your jersey at my place last night, want me to meet you somewhere private real quick and bring it to you?
you watched as her text bubbled popped, awaiting an answer.
Cait <3: oh shit, i had meant to grab that. yea if you wanna come down here, I’ll grab it from you real quick.
you: want me to wait outside? just so that they don’t all see me there.
Cait <3: nah, it should be fine, i’ll just be sneaky ;)
you laughed to yourself, typing out your response
you: if you say so, see you soon 💋
and with that, you were out the door, jersey in hand and bag thrown over your shoulder.
you pulled into the parking lot, getting out and heading into the building pretty quickly. making sure to avoid anyone you may know that might ask what you were doing here. you crept through a few winding halls before you saw the open gym doors, peaking inside to see everyone huddled around talking to one another.
you stood, slightly out of view, waiting for caitlin to notice you. after a few moments, she saw you waiting there patiently, fiddling with the hem of the jersey. you were so cute she couldn’t help but smile to herself. she excused herself from the group, jogging over to the other end of the gym.
as she made her way over to you, you noticed that a few of the girls had been watching her as she left. they tried to discreetly sneak a look at who cait was talking to.
“hey, baby!” she panted, pulling you into a quick kiss “thanks for coming all the way down here”
“yea it was no problem” you smiled sweetly, hands resting gently on her chest as she kissed you again. as you pulled away, though, you felt eyes on you. the same girls, along with the rest of the team, were now staring in your direction.
cait tried to say something else to you, but you weren’t listening as you were trying to grab her attention, shaking her shoulder violently.
“what, what?” she looked at you confused.
“cait,” you nodded your head in their direction “i think we’ve been caught”
she quirked her eyebrows, still lost, eventually turning her head to look behind her. and sure enough, there they all were, cocky smirks plastered across their faces as they jokingly whistled and cheered. out of embarrassment, you covered your face in your hands, caitlin only laughing along with them.
“yea, i guess so” she grabbed your hand, starting to pull you into the gym “might as well introduce you then…if you want?”
“i guess there’s nothing left to hide so…why not” you chuckled, letting her lead you, hooking your arm with hers. she led you to the middle of the court, all the girls still curious as to who you were.
“caitlin with a secret woman?” kate laughed, smiling your way, you had heard lots about her. who’s this?”
caitlin looked down at you, hands still intertwined. she ran her thumb over yours, sensing you were nervous with all the attention on you, trying calm you down.
“YN, this is my team” she began “and team, this is my girlfriend, YN”
they all immediately smiled at you, quick to welcome you with open arms. each girl gave you a comforting hug and introducing themselves, letting you know how lovely it is to meet you and how they’re excited to get to know you better. and of course, there was some playful banter. gabbie and kate at some point asking ‘how did caitlin manage to date someone as beautiful as you?’, eliciting a shy laugh from you. but they were all so funny and sweet, you instantly felt welcomed into such a tight knit group.
“alright, can you guys try not to scare her away!” caitlin interrupted as you chatted with the team “she’s really important to me so i’d appreciate if you didn’t freak her out with your dumb ass questions”
you all chuckled, teasing her a bit more before it was time to say your goodbyes to the girls. you thanked them for being so kind to you and they told you they couldn’t wait to hang out with you more some other time. caitlin told them she’d be back, taking your hand again and walking you out to your car.
as you got back to the parking lot, caitlin beginning to open your door for you, you stopped her. “hey, thanks for introducing me, cait. i know we said to keep it quiet, but i’m glad you trust your team enough to introduce me. wether it was on purpose or not” you smiled, squeezing her bicep sportively.
“i’m glad too,” she said “i think it was finally time to do it anyways, i was getting tired of people not knowing that you’re mine anyways”
she continued “you mean the world to me and i love you so much, thank you for putting up with sneaking around for so long”
“it was for the best, but i’m really happy we can be out to more people now” you said. “you’re team was really sweet, i can’t wait to get to know all of them”
“me too, they already love you. they won’t be able to stop asking about you for the rest of practice i bet”
you both chuckled, relieved to finally have such a huge weight off your chest.
“just don’t tell them anything too embarrassing about me, ok?” you quipped.
“i don’t think there’s anything i could say about you that would be embarrassing” she said as she helped you into your car “you’re absolutely perfect”
with that, you kissed her one last time before closing the door and waving her goodbye. as you pulled out of the parking stall, you watched as she jogged back into the building, a smile still lingering on her lips.
truthfully, you didn’t think you’d be so happy to have gotten caught.
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hawnks · 2 days
Text
It’s not a date. You make that known, loud and clear from the outset.
“Yeah, yeah,” Gojo murmurs absently. “Whatever you say sweetie.”
It’s not a date when he picks you up from your apartment. It’s not a date when he insists you change out of your ratty sweats, or when he buys you a new outfit to his exacting standards (how did he know your measurements?).
It’s not a date when he treats you to Fancy Lunch, or when he splits his desert with you, feeding you from his own fork.
It’s not a date when he takes your hand, doesn’t let go.
And it’s definitely not a date when you finally arrive at the luxury leathergoods store, the whole point of this outing. He hovers around you, watching. He seems to be waiting on you to do something, but since he’s the one who insisted on this you’re not sure what he wants.
Finally he’s had enough of you floundering.
“Pick one,” he murmurs, eyes bright as he corals you to the collar section.
Suddenly your throat is dry as you look down the long row of them. Shiny and bold. Precious. “You want me to… pick a collar for you?”
He’s watching you, keen and hungry. He’s so close you can feel the heat of him all along your side where he’s huddled against you.
Collars have a huge significance to omegas, but you’re not quite in tune with their cultural meaning. Something about ownership, claim. You feel like you should reject this, whatever he’s trying to do here. It’s not right, and you’re not right for each other. This is a job for someone who knows what they’re doing, and besides that, someone of his social standing. You should tell him as much.
But you don’t.
You spend long minutes poring over the options. Feeling the material, testing it’s texture. Careful, you choose one with a soft inner lining, that won’t catch on the neck of his button downs, that won’t chafe when he’s running around. A subtle color, unobtrusive in his loud, bold life.
(He doesn’t ask you to put it on him, knowing, somehow that it would be too much for you, cause you to recede into your shell. He can be patient.)
It’s still not a date.
So you have no reason to be pissy when yet another alpha taps him on the shoulder, says some cheesy line about his eyes.
Gojo just snorts, rolling his eyes, not even gracing the man with a response as he pulls you along down the sidewalk, talking about what to get for dinner.
But this is the fourth time it’s happened today, and you feel like you’ve reached your limit.
You yank out of his grasp.
Immediately, he makes a grab for your hand again, scowling when you pull away, no longer acquiescing to his whims.
“What?” he demands, “What is it?”
“You could be a little more put off by it,” you say finally. It sounds petulant even to your own ears. “Like… offended, or whatever.”
It takes him a second to realize what you’re talking about.
“Comes with the territory, sweetheart,” he drawls. He’s smiling, but you can tell he’s unhappy with your peevishness. Why are you denying him? Are you disturbed by what he is, too? “Omega and all that.”
You shift on your feet, uncomfortable with your own discomfort. “How often do alphas hit on you, anyway?”
He freezes. Grins. “Are you jealous?”
You can’t even get out a denial before he’s grabbing you, spinning you both in a bear hug. “Holy shit that’s so hot, baby,” he moans.
He’s got you by the shoulders as he starts dragging you down a side street, not at all in the direction of the station you were supposed to part ways at.
“Gojo, what are you doing?”
“Making it up to you,” he says, pinching your cheek. “I think I saw a hotel this way earlier.”
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minervas-hand · 2 days
Text
Right to fear, wrong to believe
Just had a horrible realization and needed to meta it out.
How different they were before Edinburgh, when Crowley was sucked down into Hell.
Look at this flirty babygirl in the Bastille:
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I mean could he climb that tree any faster?
(This is why I really like fics that place a more physical relationship here, pre-Bastille or just post-Bastille, because c'mon look at them. )
In S1 the next thing is 1862 and Crowley asking for insurance (with a cane ffs). And Aziraphale freaking out with his "fraternizing" BS. It's jarring, until we get 1827 filled in for us in S2.
@takeme-totheworld notes in this post:
Crowley sure went from "our respective head offices don't actually care how things get done" and "nobody ever has to know" to "walls have ears" FAST after Edinburgh. And Aziraphale went from looking at Crowley with hearts in his eyes to "I've been FrAtErNiZiNg" just as quickly. I'm more convinced than ever that Edinburgh was the first time Crowley ever actually got caught and punished for fucking around with Aziraphale/doing good deeds/whatever it was they yanked him back down to Hell for, and it scared the absolute shit out of both of them and changed the whole tone of their relationship after that.
Yes! - it's clear to me as well that the Edinburgh graveyard was a very bad turning point, where they both saw that Hell was listening and would intervene. And it did change their relationship drastically, for over a century and a half (really, until looming Armageddon loosened up the stakes for them).
But what about Heaven?
See the thing is, we know Azi's been worried about Heaven watching him for the past 6000 years.
But they haven't.
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[GIFs posted by starrose17]
All this time, and Heaven had not seen them together. Hadn't noticed. Had not even LOOKED.
I want to mention what @starrose17 says about this here in this post:
What I love about this is her choice of words, “went back through the Earth Observation files.” This implies that these photos were already filed somewhere meaning somebody had to have been watching them which meant somewhere in the depths of the bureaucratic heaven there’s an underpaid angel clerk tasked with watching angels on Earth, and he’s been hording photos of his favourite Angel/Demon couple not reporting them to Michael because he wants to see what happens.
And that's exactly what this fic covers!: Spying Omens by @ednav
(Give this a read, it's fabulous.)
While I am here for this being exactly how that happens, the other scenario is colder and worse - there's no one watching, at all. It's just filing automatically and never seen until some Scrivener is called to pull a file.
From @fuckyeahisawthatat's comment here :
I found this scene to be quite chilling, actually. Not only is the idea of Heaven as a surveillance state brilliant (way to make “God is always watching” sound way more ominous) but this is exactly how modern surveillance states work. They don’t actively watch everybody all the time. That’s not physically possible for humans, and even if it is metaphysically possible for Heaven, it’s not a very efficient use of resources. Surveillance states watch people they deem “suspicious.” And once you’ve been put in the category of “suspicious,” they have massive amounts of data that they can comb through to collect a lot of information about you–to retroactively build a case justifying why you’re suspicious, to collect information about where you go and who you associate with, etc.
Yes.
So we either have secret collusion in the rank and file, or we have a surveillance state that is constantly reinforced to its subjects for fear's sake, for control.
(Well, it obviously could be both.)
BUT my point is… Up until Edinburgh, Hell has not been watching (or caring at least). And up until near the end of Armageddon't, neither has Heaven.
Oh, my poor Angel. Thousands of years, of denying yourself, of pushing Crowley away, of carrying around a tension that is it's own constellation.
After 1827 you might have reason, but for the 5000+ years before that?
Thousands of years and Heaven was not watching nor cared.
You were right to fear. And you were wrong to believe.
And that just breaks my heart.
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Text
Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 3
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
Series Masterlist
Melvania furrowed her eyebrows as there was a knock on her front door. She looked at the clock that hung on the wall just above the entryway to her kitchen and set her coffee mug down on the counter as she saw it was just after 7 am. 
“Josh?” She asked her baby brother as she opened the door, shocked to see him at her house so early. “What are you doing here?” 
“We need to talk.” He said gruffly. “Can I come in?” Mel nodded and opened the door wider for him to enter her home. 
“Is everything okay?” She asked as she followed him into the living room and sat down on the couch across from the chair he had sat in. 
“No, not really. It’s about yesterday. With Kiyana.” Mel scoffed and rolled her eyes. 
“I should have known.” She muttered, sitting back and folding her arms. “Lemme guess, princess couldn’t handle hearing the truth so she sent you here to set me straight?” She scoffed again. “She is a whore and I'm not apologizing for saying it Joshua.” 
“That’s the mother of my kids Mel, whether you like it or not, you will not say no shit like that again while my kids are around.Yes, Kiyana fucked Joe.” Josh paused and clenched his fist together, he was still having a hard time dealing with that. “But I had an affair first, aight. I fucked up my marriage not Kiyana.” Mel rolled her eyes at his little speech. 
“To be completely honest baby bro, I could care less. She hurt you and that’s all I care about.” 
“You don’t have to like her, I mean you never did. But what you will do is respect the mother of your nephews.” Josh said as he stood up from her couch and walked out of his sister's house without saying another word to her. 
Next stop, Kiyana’s house..
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“Boys!” Kiyana yelled from the bottom of the steps. “What's taking so long!” She rolled her eyes as all she got back were giggles in response. She playfully glared over at Kairo when he started to giggle in his pack’n’play. “And what so funny?” She teased picking him up just as there was a knock on her front door.  
“Dada!” Kairo squealed, reaching his arms out for Joshua as Kiyana opened the door. 
“What are you doing here?” He handed her the flowers in his hand and took Kairo from here. “Who are these for?” She rolled her eyes at the look he gave her. 
“Who else would they be for? Open it.” She eyed the box warily and opened it, shocked to see it was red roses with the letter K in  white roses. “You like it?” 
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Kiyana nodded, “Yes, thank you.” 
“You welcome ba-” He paused and stopped himself. “You’re welcome Kiyana. I’m sorry for letting Mel run her mouth yesterday and not stopping her.”  Kiyana said nothing and set the flowers down on the console table. 
“What are you doing here?” She asked again and Josh sighed. 
“I wanted to take my family to breakfast.” Kiyana nodded and bit her lip.
“Ok, The boys are already dressed. We were going out with my mom, but I guess they can go with you.” She walked into the living room and Josh followed her, shutting the front door behind him. 
“No, Key. Not just me and the boys, you too.”  Kiyana arched an eyebrow and shook her head. 
“No, that’s not a good idea. We’re div-” 
“Divorced, I know.” He cut her off. “You don’t gotta say that shit every time we see each other.” 
“We’re not family anymore Joshua. You and your family made that perfectly clear yesterday.” Josh set Kairo down in his pack n play and walked closer to Kiyana, who stepped back.  
“I’m sorry Key. I was in my feelings yesterday and I apologize. So please, can we take our sons to breakfast?” 
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 To Samara 👯‍♀️: Need to get this nigga head checked out… From Samara 👯‍♀️: Who? Lol what happened To Samara 👯‍♀️: Joshua, he showed up this morning w/ flowers and apologizing for Mel.  From Samara 👯‍♀️: …. Girl  To Samara 👯‍♀️: And now we’re at breakfast bc he wanted to take his ‘family’ out.  To Samara 👯‍♀️: Oh and he played our song on the way to breakfast and kept looking at me out the corner of his eyes  From Samara 👯‍♀️: not beauty by dru hill, lmao too little to late josh smh
“Who you texting?” Josh asked and Kiyana furrowed her eyebrows. 
“Samara.” He nodded, surprised that she actually answered him. He took a sip of his orange juice and watched as she cut up Kaiden’s waffle for him. 
“Joe’s back in Pensacola.” He blurted out and Kiyana paused her cutting and looked up at him. 
“Okay..” She trailed off with a shrug. “Why are you telling me.?” Why in the hell is he bringing up Joe? She thought and then swallowed hard as she remembered the text message she received last night. 
“Cause we had a deal, Kiyana.” Kiyana tilted her head at Josh. She then looked at he kids and noticed that they were busy on their I-PADS (yes, they’re I-PAD kids… don’t judge her) 
“Josh, we're divorced. I can talk to whoever I want to.”  Josh scoffed and shook his head, 
“I don’t want him around my sons, Kiyana.” She sighed and rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. 
“I do not and will not talk to him. Joshua. Me and Joe have nothing to talk about, okay?” She said, just to get him to shut the hell up. Pleased with her answer, Josh let out a sigh of relief and sent a smile her way. 
“Thank you” Kiyana didn’t say anything back to him, she just sighed and looked out the window, wishing she was anywhere but at that diner. 
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A.N/ Kiyana will forever love Joshua, he was her first everything. She did file for divorce first but no matter what she will always be inlove with him.
🏷️ : @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @bemybabiibish
@baconeggndcheez @purplehairgawdess @nbanenefrmdao @jstarr86
@melaninsugababy @theninthwonder @arination99 @harmshake @empressdede
@alyyaanna @m3llowww @jeysbae @badbitchcentralinc @raya-hunter01
@msbigredmachine @dietothemusic @tian-monique @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade
@allmyn1ghts @woahthatshitfat @paigereeder @amandairene88 @wrestlingprincess80
@reignsboy19 @abadbitchblogs @cyberdejos2 @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo
@scarlettnoir01 @alichesmi @xiamentshoneypot @hunnidmilly
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vodika-vibes · 2 days
Note
hi hi! for your follower event, can i request hunter with peridot or topaz? either one, you can pick! maybe something fluffy on pabu or the marauder?
This Love
Summary: There’s not a lot of space on the Marauder and most of the time Hunter bemoans that fact. Sometimes, however, he loves how little space there is.
Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader
Word Count: 785
Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love
Warnings: Uh...suggestive at the end.
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @clonethirstingisreal (tagging you because Hunter took over this story and I think you'll like it)
A/N: So this was supposed to be soft and sweet, and it still is. But someone added some chili powder to the sugar giving it a little kick at the end. Sorry.
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The Marauder is a small ship.
Originally designed to carry four men, it now carries five men, one woman, one child, and a dog.
And while Hunter would be the first person to say that he’s thrilled to have his family around him, sometimes the lack of privacy is…annoying. It means that he doesn’t actually ever get any alone time with her, his cyare.
Well, sort of. The lack of space means that he gets to share a bed with his cyare every night. Simply because there’s nowhere else for her to sleep. And while she probably could have shared Omega’s bunk, Hunter is more than happy to be able to sleep with her pressed against his side. 
Even better, she put her foot down and made little curtains to give all of the bunks some privacy.
Originally it was just for Omega, but then Crosshair wanted one. And then Echo. 
And in the end, she plopped herself on a crate in the cargo bay and sewed enough curtains for everyone to have one. And then she bullied Tech into adding curtain rods to everyone’s bunk.
It’s the closest thing to ‘“privacy” that they’ve ever had.
Taking her with them on the Marauder was probably the smartest thing they’ve ever done. Even if she does have more enemies than a woman her age should.
Hunter’s gaze drifts from the ceiling of his bunk, to the woman nestled against his side. They’ve long since worked out that Hunter sleeps better when her back is against the wall and he’s able to act as her shield, even while in the safety of the Marauder.
She stirs, as though she can feel his eyes on her, and blinks sleepy eyes at him. It’s really too early to be awake, for either of them, but Hunter just smiles at her and reaches over to brush some hair out of her face.
“Morning,” He murmurs as he allows the pads of his fingers to drag lightly down her cheek.
“Mmmorning,” She shifts so that her head is resting on his shoulder and she rubs her nose against his neck, “What time is it?”
“Early.” He replies as he lightly shifts so that he’s laying on his side and facing her, smiling apologetically as her head falls back to their shared pillow, “You can go back to sleep.” He lightly trails his fingers down her bare arm, a small smile pulling his lips up as she shivers under his touch.
“With you looking at me like that?” She asks, her voice hushed.
Hunter chuckles and shifts one more time, until he’s half laying over her, “I’m not looking at you in any specific way.” He murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers.
“Are you sure?” She teases, the exhaustion slowly leaving her gaze as Hunter allows his fingers to trail over her body.
“This is how I always look at you.” He confirms. 
Her arms come up to circle his neck, and a light tug encourages him to press his chest against hers, pinning her to bed beneath him, a pretty smile crosses her lips, “Good morning, Hunter.” She whispers.
Hunter chuckles and lightly presses his lips against her jaw, before dragging them, slowly, to rest under her ear, “It is a good morning,” He agrees, “You know, I’ve been toying with letting you get enough money to buy a bigger ship. But I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t share a bed with you.”
“Who says that we’d have to stop sharing,” She murmurs, her head tilting slightly to allow him more access to her neck, “Between me an’ Tech, we could get enough money to get a ship with private rooms-”
“Tempting,” Hunter lavishes the spot under her ear with lingering kisses and nibbles for long enough that she releases a heavy breath, and then he moves to press his lips against hers, “I’ll talk to him about it.” He nips her lower lip, “Last thing you need, cyar’ika, is another cartel after your head.”
“I’m not worried, you’ll protect me.” Her fingers tangle in his hair and she tugs lightly, though even that light tug was enough to knock the breath from his lugs.
“Kriff, you can’t do that cyar’ika,” Hunter rasps, “My vod’e are on the other side of the curtain.”
Her lips curl up into a teasing smile, “Well then, you’d better be quiet. Hm?”
He groans quietly. “Ka’ra, I love you.”
Her smile widens, and she lightly kisses his jaw, “I love you too. And, when I’m done this morning, you’re not going to remember any basic.”
And Hunter grins as excitement heats his blood.
Stars, he really is a lucky asshole.
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elvensorceress · 2 days
Text
wip wednesday
tagged by @bekkachaos @tizniz @spotsandsocks @confetti-cupcake @wikiangela @hoodie-buck @exhuastedpigeon @sibylsleaves @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus tagging if you haven't played yet 💕 @eddiebabygirldiaz @wh0re-behavi0r @eddiediazisascorpio @kitteneddiediaz @monsterrae1 @lemonzestywrites @pinklobstertale @jesuiscenseedormir @jesuisici33 @chaosandwolves @frenziedblaze @family-tree-of-ships
some more of this little thing 👀
When Buck opens his eyes, someone is sitting on the couch near his feet the way Chris does. Someone who shouldn’t be here. Buck sits up frantically and stares at the vision of Eddie, healthy and beautiful and here and unharmed. 
Buck is dreaming. That’s it. Has to be. Wow, he actually fell asleep? Enough to dream? 
“Hey, Buck,” this Eddie says softly, and it sounds so real. It’s gentle and loving and full of warmth like Eddie always is when they talk. 
Buck reaches for him. He sits up and needs to hug him, hold him, feel him alive and breathing on his own. But when Buck reaches him, he touches nothing. There’s nothing to touch. 
He’s dreaming. It’s a vision. Nothing solid. Buck sags and sits back on his side of the couch and stares instead. Maybe looking at whole, healthy beautiful Eddie will somehow manifest this into reality. “You’re not real. You’re not here. I’m dreaming, right? And talking to myself? Apparently.”
“Either that or I am,” Eddie says. 
Buck hadn’t considered that. Maybe Buck is the one who isn’t real. Maybe none of this is real and the whole of his existence is in his mind. Or in the mind of someone else? 
Who knows. It’s too convoluted and too much to think about. But he’s read about this happening before. Someone’s loved one in the hospital, near death, and how their family had dreams or visions of them visiting. Maybe relaying messages. Maybe offering a comforting presence. Maybe nothing but the imagination of a mind wrecked by tragedy. Doesn’t really matter either way. 
“Why are you here? Buck asks him even if he’s talking to himself. 
Eddie swallows and looks pained. And so real. So, so vividly real. Even if nothing is real anymore. “I wanted to be with you.”
Buck reaches for him again because he has to. Eddie offers his hand in return this time. 
Their fingers go through each other. Not touching. Nothing to feel. Nothing tangible. 
They can’t touch.
Why would they? Even in a dream, they don’t get to have anything of each other. 
“Please don’t die,” Buck says. 
Eddie gives him a pained smile. “I’m trying really hard not to.” 
Buck knows that. He knows Eddie would fight. Is fighting. He had to say it anyway. “Why did you— why? I mean I know it’s our job and that’s what we do. But what happened? Why— why was it like that? Why did it end up like that?” 
Did you do it on purpose? Did you sacrifice yourself to save Tommy? Did you do that?
Eddie looks away from him, exactly how real Eddie would. He shrugs. As if it’s nothing. As if it’s just an accident. As if there was no emotion behind anything. “I know you need him. I wasn’t going to let you lose him.”
Buck closes his eyes, bends his head, and just wants to cry again like he has been for more than two weeks. “Eddie,” he sobs and clutches himself around his chest, around his own body since he can’t touch Eddie. “I need you, too. I can’t— This isn’t okay. This is worse. This is so much worse. Not that I want it the other way. It would have killed me, too. But. I can’t do this. I can’t lose you. I need you, too.”
“I figured,” Eddie says quietly. So quiet and strained and absent and distant. Too distant. “If you had to choose. You already chose. You picked him. I couldn’t let you lose him.” 
At this point, Buck isn’t sure which is worse— if this is real and what Eddie really thinks or if this is his own mind telling him what he already feels guilty about. 
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