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#I would have given up going to the garage after the first day
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I’m unsure whether having a P’Phayu to dom me into doing my nursing school homework would have helped me pass…but I’d probably at least not be in a holding pattern.
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sluttish-armchair · 1 year
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Uh oh boys apparently the main character in one of the books that’s supposed to be covering up the fact I bought a book about sex and torture (1984) has a mistress. Ahaha whoopsie daisy
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eternally-racing · 3 months
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not private, not secret | oscar piastri
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wc: <1k (short n sweet 😌)
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
genre: fluff
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: you and oscar have kept your relationship secret for this long, but oscar can't help but celebrate with you for his very first formula 1 win.
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You were well accustomed to being a shadow in the McLaren garage. It’s the way you and Oscar had decided you liked it best.
There was no pressure from the media, no mean comments on social media, and the less prying eyes into your relationship, the better. Only a select few people on the team knew that you were Oscar’s girlfriend, the rest easily bought up the lie that you were the daughter of a very rich investor in the team who wanted to be at every race. It usually wasn’t that hard to keep quiet, but today was a big day and you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest at every turn. For the first time in his Formula 1 career your boyfriend was leading the race, and with only a few more laps to go you were praying that today would be the day that his dream came true. As you looked to the pit wall you could see Andrea’s foot nervously twitching against the foot rest of his chair, he felt it too. This would easily be the biggest moment of Oscar’s career if it comes true, and there are only a few more laps to go. 
It’s a moment you never want to forget as the checkered flag comes out for Oscar’s car. You can’t stop the tears leaking out from your eyes as you hear the jubilation on his voice through the radio. This is a moment that both of you imagined for so long, but the reality of the situation surpassed all of your expectations. It’s a full celebration with the team as everyone is thoroughly overjoyed. You’re swept up with thinking about Oscar that you don’t even notice the other papaya car cross the line after Oscar. It’s a 1-2 finish, there’s not much more a team could ever wish for in a race. McLaren hasn’t felt joy like this in years. There’s a full sea of papaya out in front of the podium to greet the race winner, and you’re not sure where you fit into things - you blend in easily with the crowd while simultaneously being swept up in it. You’ve made a couple of friends in the garage and stick closely to them as the party already seems to be beginning on the paddock. 
You’ve never seen Oscar like this before - he takes a minute in the car before getting out (you can only assume he was wiping his tears of joy, even if he is too stubborn to admit it). You have your phone out taking a couple of pictures yourself - you know that there’s 1000s of cameras around that are also pointed at your boyfriend, but you want to remember what it feels like to see this moment through your eyes. 
After hugging his engineer and the rest of the team members, you can see Oscar’s gaze start to wander around the paddock, and it’s only once he changes directions do you figure out that he’s looking for you. There’s cameras flashing and the live TV feed clearly following over his shoulder, but your eyes are only locked on each other as Oscar reaches out for you. He stays in your arms for long enough that people can probably get the hint that you’re someone special.
“I really couldn’t have done this without you love, thank you” Oscar says with tears pooling in his eyes. This is his “I made it moment”, and he wants nothing more than to share it with you. There’s so many words that you want to say, but you find yourself speechless as you stare into Oscar’s eyes. Instead, you go with the action that you’ve dreamt of doing ever since you started dating. It’s your first helmet kiss of what will be many more to follow. Oscar warned you that it wouldn’t taste very good, especially given the dusty race conditions of the day, but it brings such joy to your heart to be able to celebrate with him.
When Oscar’s up on the podium he points to you as he lifts the trophy up to the cheers of the crowd, mouthing an “I love you” to you down below that you know will make the rounds on social media. But you don’t care one bit about that anymore. People could throw all the hate in the world your way, but there was nothing like the pride of celebrating your boyfriend’s first f1 win.
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author's note: was in a bit of a writing slump working on pt.2s for a lot of my other fics so i just wanted to write something short and sweet! hope u all enjoyed it :) My ask box is still open as always if you have any requests. Until next time! - Em <3
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userlando · 7 months
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my only sunshine — george russell
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george russell x fem!reader [1.9k] summary: george feels like the whole world has come crashing down, but he luckily has you to pick him up. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, hurt & comfort a/n: i felt so so bad for george last night that i couldn't help but imagine how it'd be like to comfort him afterwards. i wasn't originally planning on writing smut but figured i'd throw it in there. anyway, hope you like this, lmk if you do!! <3
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Silence. It’s all you’re in after the day has slid toward its end, the rumbling of the car providing you with the slightest comfort as you sit next to the man who’s given you so much. So much love, hope, inspiration and everything that you can’t seem to reciprocate at the moment because you can see that he’s dissociating, eyes staring off into the distance but it’s like he’s not looking. Just… seeing.
His hand in yours is warm, clammy, but he’s holding it tightly like he can’t seem to bear to let it go in fear of breaking down completely; Like your hold is the only thing tethering him to sanity. It makes your stomach twist and your heart ache with gruelling worry.
He mumbles hello’s and thank you’s as he guides the both of you through the lobby of the hotel, saying nothing as you press the elevator button. You can’t stop looking at him, wondering what he’s thinking but you know it can’t be anything good judging by his glassy eyes, red-rimmed with unshed tears.
George had been so close to podium, so close to getting that win he deserved and fought hard for. It had almost felt like reality slipped from your fingers as you watched his car lose control, taking him out of the race before any of you had time to blink. The garage had been in despair for your boyfriend and so had you, conflicted with Lewis’ win as he raced toward the finish line. Nothing has quite managed to break your heart as hearing your boyfriend’s voice over the radio, holding back tears for the sorrow he must’ve been feeling.
You stare at the tension in his back as he walks into the hotel room, shuffling through your thoughts and wondering whether you should speak or not. You know from experience that he’ll come to you eventually, and he will seek comfort in his own, wordless way but it doesn’t stop you from desperately wanting to reach out to him.
George turns when you drop your bags on the floor, giving you a slight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and you give one back.
“Go have a shower, I’ll order us something to eat.” You grab his hand in yours and watch as his fingers scramble to hold on, head nodding slowly. You press a kiss to his open palm. “Go.”
He goes without any preamble, leaving the door ajar and you walk around the room to redress into something comfier before calling for room service.
It’s a hot and stuffy night, but you welcome the slight breeze when you crack open the balcony doors and walk outside to take a look. It’s a gorgeous city filled with good memories, and you’d hate to think that tonight would taint them.
The sound of the shower running acts as background noise, and you get lost in your thoughts before the creak of the bathroom door pulls you out of them. You turn around and timidly walk inside, trying to tamper the sudden speed of your heart at the sight of your boyfriend walking across the room in his underwear; scrubbing his wet hair with a towel with way more aggression than necessary.
It’s the first sign he’d given you that he’s angry, ever since he first jumped out of his crashed car. He sniffles, the sound too loud in the silent room and you gingerly sit on the bed because you don’t know what to say to make it better.
You know that it’s something that he’ll eventually get over. Not completely, but the feeling of sadness and disappointment will dissipate with time. Right now, he just needs to lick his wounds.
He flings the towel in the direction of the sofa, missing it completely and it falls with a thump on the floor but you don’t focus on it for too long, watching George as he finally meets your eyes.
He’s been crying.
George’s eyes are red, watery and it makes your heart clench fiercely as you stretch your arms out for him to fall into. He doesn’t say a word as he lets you hold him, the shaking of his shoulders a clear indication that he’s finally broken down.
“You’re okay.” You whisper into his wet hair, holding his head so delicately as you fight your own tears off.
He doesn’t say anything as he cries and you don’t even know what you whisper to him, but it seems to work because his sniffling eventually fades off. You stroke his wet hair and kiss his head, pulling him in closer to you, like it’s possible to be any closer than you already are.
“I fucking had it.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it.
But it’s there, and he sounds angry with himself.
“I know.” It’s all you can say, knowing that there’s nothing else that can help him.
“I just had to go fuck it all up.”
You tighten your grip on him, guiding his head from your chest to look at his face. It’s heartbreaking to see the dried streaks on his cheeks, long eyelashes clumped together from the tears but he looks as beautiful as ever.
“You didn’t fuck anything up.” Your voice is firm, thick with emotion but you power through. “Shit happens, you can never predict the outcome of these races and you know it better than anyone. It was a long race, and you did your best. That’s all you can ask of yourself.”
He shakes his head.
“I should’ve done better.” His eyes fill with tears again, eyebrows scrunching up in anguish. “I could’ve done better.”
“Maybe so.” You brushed a thumb under his eye. “But you did your best at that moment, baby. It’s a tough track.”
He made a noise of dissent and you leaned forward to press a kiss to his warm cheek, keeping your lips there. The way he subconsciously leaned into it made your chest tighten in adoration.
“You’ll always be amazing to me, Georgie.” You whispered against his skin. “I don’t know if that counts for something, but it’s the truth.”
He turned his head so your lips caught the corner of his, making you smile.
“It means the world, and you know it.” He said, squeezing your hip. “I love you.”
“I love you.” You waited until he turned his head fully, accepting the kiss that he was quick to press to your mouth.
It was like a switch had been flipped the moment your lips opened up to each other, George placing both hands on either side of you so he could guide you up the bed until he was looming above you. You sucked in a well needed breath when he trailed his lips down, kissing and sucking your jaw and throat in urgency.
“George…” The sound of his name from your lips made him stop and glance up, eyes trained on you. “Are you sure you wanna do this now?”
His answer came in the form of a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs, your legs caging his hips in and bringing your crotches together. The shudder that he let out was like music to your ears, low and heavy. Almost like some weight had been lifted off his shoulder and just that alone made you want to do more, to distract him from tonights loss and show him how great he was.
“Nothing I want more.” He murmured against your lips, fingers slipping into your joggers and underwear, slicking up his digits.
A shudder left your lips, hands gripping his shoulders and spreading your legs wider for him to properly settle between as he slowly fingered you. It was quick, thumb circling your clit just the way he knew you liked until you were coming apart under him.
He loved on your lower lip as you cried out your orgasm, eyes trained on your face because he just couldn't look away from how pretty you looked. It made him physically hurt how much love he had for you, how grateful he was that you managed to pick him up so easily when all he wanted to do was close in on himself.
No one had ever managed to simultaneously fill him up with so much love and inspiration like you did, and the adoration he felt for you in that moment felt like too much to bear. So, he hurried his movements when he felt you starting to shudder from overstimulation, reaching down to push his underwear far enough to get himself out of the confines.
"George, please." Your pleas made his hands shake as he slid the length of his cock up your pussy, wetting it in the process and hearing you moan. "Please, just hurry up and fuck me."
He didn't need to be told twice, notching himself by your hole and glancing up at you; waiting for your nod of consent before he pushed himself inside. The both of you moaned in unison, George's mouth dropping open at the combined feeling on your tightness and wetness, the warmth enveloping his cock as you reached your hands up to grab at his damp hair.
"Oh, fuck." He bottomed out, arms shaking to keep himself hovering over you. "Fuck, you feel good."
You pushed your chin out and George almost smiled at the gesture, knowing what you wanted without you having to verbally tell him. He got down on his elbows instead, caging your head in before he leaned down and licked into your mouth.
His thrusts were jerky, like he couldn't focus on one thing and you really couldn't blame him. It was clear that he needed the release and you desperately wanted to give it to him, clenching around him and hearing him moan against your ear; voice hoarse and broken.
It wasn't long before he was burying his face in your neck, hips working into you harshly before he grunted and buried himself to the hilt. George came with a bitten moan, shuddering as he shot off inside of you and it made you tighten up weakly, prompting another sound from his mouth.
The both of you laid wrapped up in each other, listening to each other's breathing and the silence dragged out for so long that you'd almost expected George to have fallen asleep. But then he made a noise in his throat and picked his head up from your chest to peer up at you.
He looked more relaxed than before, but there was still a sadness in his eyes that nothing but time could wipe away. You picked up a shaky hand to brush a finger under his eyes, watching his long eyelashes flutter at the touch.
"Japan will be yours." You said in a whisper, like it was a secret and it made George smile sadly.
"Don't hold your breath." He said it so self-depracatingly that you shook your head in a stubborn manner.
"I'll hold my breath, Russell. Better yet, I'll be right there to scream the loudest for you."
That prompted a laugh out of him, pushing into your hand when you swept his bangs out of the way.
"Thank you." He murmured and your face softened at the sincerity in his voice. "I don't know how you manage to do it, but you always make my losses hurt less."
"I'll always be here, you know that."
He nodded because yeah, you always were and you had never proved him wrong. It made something spark in his chest, something that felt a lot like hope and determination for the next weekend.
He'd bring the win home. If not for himself, then for you.
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asteroshearts · 4 months
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Date Night
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Itadori tags along for one of your date nights and wonders how you have a completely different Nanami Kento than the rest of the world.
Nanami x Reader
Tags: she/her pronouns, public nudity?, third wheel itadori
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"Good evening, we apologize for the wait. Thank you for calling Gyomei's Ginza branch. How may I help you today?"
"Hello." You could never get sick of his voice. "I have a reservation for Nanami at 19:00. I know it's last minute, but can we add another person?"
"That can be done: we can add another chair to the table you selected," the hostess responded. Grinning wildly, you turned in the passenger seat and met your fist with Itadori's. "Do you have any special requests for this party member?"
"Don't include the drink course for him," your husband stated. Broken beams of white light from the street lamps came and went across his glasses as he drove by. "He's a child."
"Of course, will this extra person need a high chair?"
A gasp rang in the car.
"That won't be necessary." Quickly shutting off the call, Nanami huffed as you burst out into giggles at Itadori's sputtering.
"Aw, he's our son, Kennie."
"Nanamin!" his pink-haired student cried from the back seat. "Why did you say that?! Now they're going to think I'm seven or something!"
"You are a child." The man didn't even bother to glance at the rearview mirror.
"Maybe we should've gone with the long con," you teased. "Do you think they would've given us a discount if we said that Yuji-kun was twelve? That could save us a bit of money at a place like this!"
"Do you think I'm broke?" Nanami scoffed before pressing down on the accelerator, taking off in Tokyo.
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Itadori hadn't initially planned to crash your date night.
Although they had finished the assignment efficiently, Nanami noticed something was up with the teen despite how quickly they exorcised the curse. From the boy's slouched posture and tucked shoulders, Nanami easily got the boy to confess what was on his mind.
"Oh…it's my grandpa's birthday today…" Eyes facing the ground, his voice suddenly grew quieter. "It's the first time I've ever had it without him."
It would've been so simple to say his monotone condolences, take a step away, and move on with his day. However, one call to you later, you had no problem with inviting Itadori along your night with your husband. In fact, you were even more certain you had married the right man when he asked permission to bring his student and help take Itadori's mind off his late grandfather's birthday.
But, Itadori didn't want to third-wheel at his pseudo-teacher's date, wouldn't that be kinda weird?
Nanamin seemed just, so – well – cold. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed the man as a mentor, but to tag along for a date? He wasn't sure how the blond managed to score a pretty girl like you as his wife, but he didn't want to spend a night with you while Nanami silently ate at his side.
However, when he brought it up to the group chat that Nanami might be paying for his meal at this place called "Gyomei", Nobara yelled at him loud enough that he could hear it through text. A Michelin-starred and free meal was something a teen boy like him couldn't pass up.
"Um!" Itadori called out to you after Nanami had parked in the underground garage of the high-rise you were going to. "Thank you again for inviting me!" Pink coloring his cheeks, you had mentioned earlier when Nanami picked you up that if they didn't allow reservation modifications, you would just let the deposit go and find another spot to have date night at. Not only were they in the most expensive area of Tokyo, but he knew from Gojo's blabbing that Nanami's coveted date nights were never a spontaneous event. They were planned weeks, even months in advance, to get you to the best venues, restaurants, and events. To think that you had just easily let him drag along…touched him more than you realized.
You chuckled at his attempt to bow in the backseat, folding your legs so you could turn in your seat. "It's no problem at all! It's always so fun to talk with you, Yuji-kun! Good thing they let us add another chair though, I've been wanting to try this place forever."
Although, he wondered why you weren't making an effort to get out of the car. Nanamin had parked a while ago, and you still haven't opened your door. Were you waiting for him to pay for your parking spot?
"Yeah! Gojo-sensei tells me these places usually don't allow modifications for reservations."
"Oh. That." Your shoulders fell before a large smile broke out on your face, laughing at your own joke. "Let me tell you a little secret, Yuji-kun." Leaning in closer and lowering your voice, you confessed, "We lie to Gojo."
Huh?
"He wants to crash our date nights all the time, but Ken would rather eat rocks than invite him," you said with a laugh. "So we lie and tell him it can't be done."
Door opening on your side, you perked up as light flooded your car and you turned you head up to gaze at your husband holding the door.
"What are you laughing about?" your grumpy husband asked. Although his voice was dull and drab, Itadori wondered how you managed to brighten up so much just at the mere sight of the blond man. He was even more confused at how you only stepped out of the car after Nanami had opened it, so much more different than the blond he knew who was strict and hated doing anything beyond the required effort.
To the Nanami who told everyone to drag their own baggage, this seemed like night and day, yet here you were, not even lifting a finger.
Where was the real Nanamin?
"Not at you," you reassured, slipping out as Nanami stepped back slightly. "At Gojo."
Face souring as if he had eaten a lemon, he quickly told you that he didn't even want to think of the white-haired man tonight, not when it was your night. "If you wanted to laugh at clowns, I should've taken you to the circus instead."
Holding on to his arm, you looked up at your husband. "Well then, good thing we have Yuji-kun with us, right? At least someone will laugh at my jokes today."
Exhaling tiredly, Nanami pushed up his glasses to hide the small quirk of his lips.
"Itadori-kun, what are you waiting for? Get out of the car."
Eyes widening, he jolted in his spot, clumsily opening the door and trying not the hit the car next to you. "R-Right!"
"Aww, maybe you should be the gentleman and open the door for him."
Rolling his eyes beneath his round glasses, he placed his hand over your hold on his bicep. "Do you think I open the door for everyone?"
In the background, Itadori watched as you were eye-to-eye with your husband.
Oh, he realized. It's still Nanamin. It was just that you got special treatment.
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"You were a sorcerer too?!" Yuji shouted in the restaurant, far too loud for your comfort.
"Itadori-kun!" Nanami snapped from beside you, wine glass held up to his lips. Gasping at his mistake, he quickly scanned the restaurant, eyes skimming across lavish tables draped with silky white cloth, dainty lighting up above, and flower bouquets scattered across the room, but thankfully no wandering or surprised eyes from other patrons that were caught up in what he had yelled out.
"Sorry…" he said, dropping his eyes to look at the first few courses in front of him. Sighing, now Nanami was even more glad that he selected the most secluded table in the restaurant, far away from the other booked tables where everyone got an obstructed view of you three, but where he could see everything in the room.
You waved off your husband's irritation and squeezed his hand underneath the table. You waited until his knitted eyebrows relaxed a bit before you even thought of looking away.
"That's alright, Yuji-kun." You had met him before this, but you were sure that you had given off the impression of someone who was pampered and privileged as you opened up the door for Nanami and Itadori that one day in nothing but a simple chemise (that Nanami covered up before the teen's eyes) and your face mask on with your hair up. Certainly not battle-ready. Not to mention, you had introduced yourself as another office worker, leading Itadori to believe that was where you two met.
"You didn't know," you said understandingly before your eyes softened. "That's actually how Ken and I met — Oh, he was so different back then. He actually gave me a whole box of poetry inspired by our favorite emo bands back in — "
"Darling," he said sharply, rather than affectionately.
Laughing off the intense aura Nanami was giving off, you continued. "You know, I come from a pretty old sorcerer family. We were a big deal back in the Meiji period, but we all died off since then." With a shrug, you added, "My mom never wanted me to be a sorcerer anyway, so I guess it all worked out that I ended up quitting after graduation."
"Huh?" Itadori tilted his head in confusion. "If your mom didn't let you, how were you able to join Jujutsu Tech?" With those old coots around every corner, it was harder to get into JJ Tech than leave.
Barking out a laugh, you grinned at the pink-haired teen. "Cause I thought I was sooo edgy back then. I thought I was being so cool." Then, suddenly — you grew pacified as the onslaught of memories hit you. When you spoke up next, your voice was a lot quieter. "I was obsessed with being different and finding myself, I thought…" When your memories conjured up a certain brown-haired boy you had lost once upon a time, you faltered. "At graduation, I realized I ended up losing a lot more than I had discovered."
A large hand landed on your thigh, and you were only called back to earth after Nanami had given your leg a quick squeeze. Nothing suggestive or intense, but as you focused on the warmth of his palm and the feather-like touch of his fingers brushing across your skin, you focused again on the present.
"I was just lucky and landed myself a good job. My brother-in-law was one of the co-founders of a well-to-do startup, and they got me a cushy position, so I'm more than happy with what I have now." Placing one of your hands on top of Nanami's you made sure to point those last words at him, just to assure him. Righting yourself up to push these memories behind you, "And besides, I'm sure Ken has the short end of the — "
Slam!
When you blinked the splatters from your eyes, you realized what had happened around you. A tripped-over waitress was hands and knees on the ground, three dishes of your lamb roast had scattered across the polished wooden floors amongst shattered plates, and furthermore, your pristine button-up shirt was warm and drenched in dark red wine sauce.
"Shit," you muttered into the quiet air, and that was all you needed for chaos to descend from every corner. Itadori was yelling something in your ear, your husband was quickly trying to pat your shirt dry, the tearful waitress was extremely apologetic on her knees, and all while the owner of the establishment came rushing forward to see what the commotion was all about.
"What is the meaning of this!" the man roared, red in the face before whirling in on the girl. "Hima — !"
"M-Ma'am, I-I'm extremely sorry," she said with her head bowed while she was still on the ground. "I hope that you can please forgive me — "
"Hey," you said easily. The last thing you wanted was for a young girl to cry. "It's alright," you tried to speak up against the overlapping voices.
"Please forgive us," the owner said, head bowed as well while he gave her a nasty glare from the side. "She's new here. I assure you that this behavior is unacceptable here, and I'll be sure to — "
"Hey," you sternly spoke through. "It's fine. Really. Everyone makes mistakes," you said gently, keeping your eye carefully on the young girl. "And it's just a shirt. This will come off." Tilting your head up toward the blond man who was worriedly hovering around you. This was something that he gifted you. "This stain will come off, right?"
Giving you a quick nod, Nanami carefully pulled out the strands of hair attached to the side of your neck from the spill. "If it doesn't, I'll buy you a new one," he said immediately.
Quirking up your lip at him, you said, "That's unnecessary. Like I said, it's just a shirt." Catching the girl's eye contact, you said calmly, "Everything's fine. Please go patch your knee up." You excused her.
The boss seemingly wanted to argue, opening his mouth to argue as the girl thankfully nodded, hidden behind a curtain of her hair before she rushed away, but the sight of your husband's dark stare from over your shoulder, as he stood large, muscled, and broad, shut him up.
"Where's your bathroom?" you asked. Your shirt was becoming transparent and sticking uncomfortably.
The owner looked extremely apologetic again. "It's currently closed for cleaning, but I'll let my employees know — no more than five minutes — !"
"That's alright," you repeated shortly.
"Go get my wife a laundry bag and a towel." The owner certainly wasn't going to argue when your husband stood like a pillar behind you. Holding his clean hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he breathed carefully. "As fast as possible."
"R-Right away." With a bow, the owner made another uneasy promise of covering your dry cleaning, restaurant bill, and that he would send someone to clean this up immediately.
"Kennie," you called. As the spill cooled, the sauce stuck to your skin and was starting to become oily and coagulated, overall unpleasant the longer it lingered. Cringing, you said, "I don't want to wear this shirt any longer, can you help me?"
No further words were needed. With a quick flash of movement, almost as fast as how he took down curses with his ratio, Itadori watched as the older man pulled his blazer off his body and stood to hold it up around you like a curtain.
The man's large arms were nearly encircling you, muscles flexing as he tilted his body and blazer to give you all the privacy you needed to change. Facing the ceiling-to-floor windows that gave you the grand view of the Tokyo skyline, you began unbuttoning your shirt.
Although Itadori caught a peek of the top of your lacy black bra, he quickly averted his eyes with pink cheeks, both out of shame, and with how Nanami's gaze could've set him on fire.
"You can put your shirt here," Nanami gestured, nodding toward the back of his chair. Nodding, you quickly dropped your wet shirt out of your hands, allowing Itadori to see the LEMAIRE tag poking out from the folds.
You patted yourself clean with the cloth napkins you had around the table, and you thanked Itadori as he handed you his. Once you cleaned off as much of the spill as possible, your bare shoulders finally met with the sleek silk lining of your husband's jacket. As you slipped your arms around the oversized jacket sleeves, Nanami finished helping you button up his jacket.
Taking a knee, the blond man cleaned up your chair before he let you sit down. The blazer was comically oversized on you, giving you broad shoulders from the sturdy padding, and the lapels gave you a low cut where your bra could still be seen, but it was better than nothing.
The blond man let out a deep sigh. If he wasn't in public, no — if you two were the only people at the table, he wouldn't waste any time to tuck his face in your shoulder or rest his head on your lap even.
"Darling," Nanami started, and immediately Itadori was shocked at how the stern and reserved Nanami seemed so soft. "This date's been a mess, I'm sorry — " Weak even, against your presence.
"Why are you apologizing?" you said with a chuckle. "The date has barely even started yet! And now we get free food!"
Giving you a frown he added, "What's the point if you had to be embarrassed like this?" Beautiful brown eyes peered up at you, and you swore you could never get sick of the sight, not even to this day.
"Embarrassed? I've done a lot more humiliating things as a high schooler — willingly too." With a grin, you reached over to pinch his high cheekbone. "And I love wearing your clothes anyway."
"I — "
"Nothing a shower won't fix," you interrupted him by grabbing his face and leaning over to give him an Inuit kiss. "And what's the matter with one 'ruined' date?" Holding up your hand, you showed off your grand wedding and engagement ring. "You locked me down anyway," you said cheekily. "I'm not going anywhere."
Yet the blond man looked regretful anyway. Ashamed that he made your night anything less than wonderful.
You wondered where it all came from, this insane pressure to give you what he deemed as a perfect life — the perfect adulthood, rather. Perhaps it was from how you constantly repeated how much you valued and appreciated him when he was being bogged down by competitive coworkers who walked all over him.
Or perhaps it was from the look on your face as you sat next to Haibara's body in the morgue, as the light slowly dimmed from your eyes.
Heart swelling with true love, you couldn't resist pulling the man forward for a real kiss. One deep and hearty, skin against skin, until space had never existed, and you could get your atoms to touch.
"Um..." Itadori squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.
Did you forget he was here?
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cheriladycl01 · 1 month
Text
I cant do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader Part 6
Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, you've worked your whole life to become an engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn't want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull Racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as your present father figure.
Credit to russellius for the GIF
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You'd texted your dad, just asking if he wanted to meet in The Luxor, it was a hotel that you knew none of the drivers would be in to interrupt and hopefully fans would be to a minimum as it was quiet an expensive hotel.
You thought it would be better, breaking the ice with your dad first before fully speaking to George. Your dad hadn't said anything as bad as George did, so you felt like now was the time to have an adult conversation with him.
So that's where you were right now, you were stood watching over the Casino's ground floor from the balcony. You felt a sort of shadow next to you, and it made your head turn left. Your dad walked up standing next to you, his arms leaning on the balcony banister pushing the cuffs of his sleeves up to his elbows.
"Hey Dad!" you smile looking over at him a soft expression on your face.
"Hello Barchen" he says softly, looking over at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen on his face. Tears welled in your eyes at the sweet little nickname he'd always used for you.
"Dad I-" you start but he places a large hard over yours, keeping eye contact with you.
"No, I'm sorry for everything I said to you. You deserved a place on the team, you've done wonderful things for Red Bull. And as much as i want you back in the garage I wont ask that off you!" he admits, your head swinging to look back over him as your gaze had travelled down back to the busy casino life.
"I, but what if I want to come back?" you ask, in shock. Did your dad not want your help?
"I know you don't want too, you've found a place in Red Bull that i wish i could have given you and I'm so so proud of you. I think I was just so scared about seeing my Little Bear grow up. I always want to protect you and I don't know, making such a big step and becoming an engineer in the team..." he admits.
"I thought, you didn't think I was good enough!" you say tears brimming in your eyes.
"Never, I'm always so proud of you, my beautiful beautiful daughter. I just fear that I'm loosing you. You've been such a big part of my life for the last 23 years that...I can't let go! You come everywhere with me"
"I know, which was why branching out was the hardest thing I've ever done. But it needed to be done. I love being the daughter of Toto Wolff, not because your Toto Wolff the Team Principle of Mercedes, but because your the man who drove me 3 hours when i slipped over in the garage and cut myself on some metal. Your the man who was there for me when i first ever had my heart broken, your the man who cheered so loudly when I collected my GCSE's because I didn't have anyone else to celebrate with, and most importantly your my dad. I love you, but I wanted to prove that I don't feed off your income, and that I can pave my own way. Honestly I don't think I even would have had the chance at Red Bull if it wasn't for your last name, but I still did it" you ramble, and all your dad can do is stare at you in awe at all the memories you recounted together.
He remembered when how scared he was when he heard a little scream followed by yells from all of his mechanics. He trusted them to look after you, and he knew it wasn't their fault but he was furious that you'd slipped and gotten yourself hurt. He made sure he stayed with you in the garage at all times after that.
He remembered holding you why you cried to him, picking yourself apart and asking him why you weren't good enough. Two hearts broke that day, as his did when yours did. Seeing his little girl, crying over such a stupid and insolent boy... Toto would make sure his changes getting into F1 were zero to none.
He remembered the day you went to collect your GCSE's from the nearest school to the Mercedes F1 headquarters in Brackley. You walked in, seeing loads of people that you didn't know all excited to see each other and showing each other what they got. Some were laughing some were crying for all different reasons. It kind of reminded Toto of the last race at the end of the season in Abu Dhabi. He cheered so loud the hall looked over at the pair of you when you presented him your amazing grades.
But recently since 2021, he'd realized how absent he'd been as your dad. In the process of wanting to keep you with him as his little girl all he'd been doing was just pushing you away. And he hated himself for that.
"I know - I know I've done a lot wrong, but I'd really like it if you could find it in yourself to forgive me!" he says, pulling you into a searing hug, so tight and so warm and you'd missed it dearly.
"You know, you guys cooked really do with my help at Merc" he smile, looking away from him and back down at the casino. You hear him chuckle from your side and he observes down on the gaming floor with you.
"Mmmmm? What would you suggest?" he asks. You laugh in turn.
"Ah, see you might be my dad, but right now you're my competitor. I can't be dealing in secrets" you admit and he looks over to you in shock.
"But I'm your dad!" he fakes his offence taken making you laugh a little more.
"I know, so technically this" you say gesturing between the two of you. "Is a conflict of interest! I can't be seen meeting you in secretive locations!"
"Well, maybe you'll consider coming back to Mercedes but I want to let you know just how proud I am of what you've helped them achieve at Red Bull!" he smiles, pulling you into a tight hug, one that you didn't want to get out of.
"So, I guess I'll see you in Abu Dhabi?" you ask.
"I was actually hoping you'd come home for a bit. The house has felt so empty despite George coming over most days in the off season" he admits, knowing he'd do anything to have you come home even if it's just for a day or two.
"Well, I think I'm needed in the Red Bull Centre on the 20th, but I'll stay with you for the rest of the week, and travel to Abu Dhabi with you!" you grin, knowing you would like to spend some time with your dad Suzie and Jack.
"You're coming home?" he beams.
"I'm coming home dad" you smile nodding.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313
@fordlita @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @samantha-chicago
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leclerclov3 · 6 months
Text
。・:*˚:✧。 P1 baby
masterlist
✰ pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
✰ warning: none
✰ summary: It was no secret that ferrari was a whole shit show this season thos however did not stop charles from giving his all to the team that didn't even care about him.
✰ word count:0,5k
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You sit in Charles' driver's room waiting for him to come back from yet another bad qualifying.
"Hey baby.." you say softly as he walks in he immediately comes over to you hugging you and nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.
"I just don't know what I'm doing wrong... I've been practicing nonstop staying focused going over strategies what else do I need to do" he says desperately.
You can't help but feel awful as he lays and rants in your arms. you rub his back comfortingly "Shh baby it's alright none of this is your fault..you've been amazing you have given them your all there is not much else you could do. You are doing your best and that's enough even more than that ough and I'm sure all of this will pay off in the future. you're amazing love don't you ever forget it" You kiss his forehead.
he looks up "Thank you y/n I don't know what I would do without you..." he smiles a small but genuine smile "I'll give it my best tomorrow I’ll try to win...for you" he pecks your lips and lays back down the exhaustion from qualifying finally getting to him as he drifts off...
Sunday comes and you can't say that you aren't excited for what today will bring after your little talk with Charles he seemed happier..more sure of himself and it gave you hope...hope that after all of this, he'd still be ok...
The race starts and turns one is as chaotic as always but Charles manages to snag P1 you know that it's too early to celebrate but you can't seem to shake off the excitement that's bubbling in your stomach...
Lap 7 passes he's still in the lead then lap 20 and then the final lap there is a fierce battle going on between Charles and Max right now and you can't help but feel anxious as they get closer and closer to the finish line...you see max over take Charles in the 2nd to last corner and as you begin to lose hope Charles sneaks back and snags P1 for himself.
The whole Ferrari garage is going wild as well as you, with tears in your eyes you run to Parc fermé getting right in front of the brackets. You excitedly wait for Charles to get here. And as his car parks right at that P1 spot and he gets out of the car you both lock eyes it's like no one existed around you too. He runs straight to you taking off his helmet hugging you tightly and then giving you a kiss that you will never forget... After that day it was safe to say that you knew that he'd be alright..
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and others
yourusername knew you could do it ❤️
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charles_leclerc couldn’t do it without you cheri
↳yourusername ❤️❤️
lilymhe the absolute cutest
↳alex_albon excuse me
↳yourusername it’s only the truth alex
francisca.cgomez so cute 🤍
↳yourusername 💕
user18 my otp
user5 when is it my turn
user92 that should be me 🎵🎵
。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:
Second fic is finished this one is a little different from the first but i still hope you liked it let me know if you have any feedback and enjoy your day <3
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cieloclercs · 9 months
Note
Could you do a Oscar Piastri x verstappen!youngersister
secret glances, eyes talk of love — oscar piastri
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pairings: oscar piastri x verstappen!reader
warnings. started out as fluff but it sort of turned into angst along the way?? not like superrr angsty but it’s definitely sad vibes
word count. 1.2k
author’s note. hi anon! thank you so much for the request <3 i loved writing this concept! ps, i’d definitely be open to doing a part 2 if anyone is interested 👀
Decked out in a Red Bull jacket and cap, it's a wonder no one outside the McLaren garages notices you. Maybe you've grown so used to sneaking around that it now comes as second nature. It's been like this since the start of the season: the secret kisses in quiet corners, making up excuses to get away from the Red Bull garage (and your over-protective brother), and, of course, your fair share of close calls. You aren't exactly inconspicuous in the paddock. There are eyes following you almost everywhere you go — but over time, you've learnt to avoid them. You can only thank your lucky stars no one seems to have caught on yet.
Sometimes you wish it didn't have to be this way; that you could be like any other normal couple on the grid. Kiss him when he triumphs, comfort him when he falls. The feeling can grow intense, especially after a day like today. You have to watch him on the podium like any other supposedly indifferent onlooker, pretending that your cheers are only for your brother on the top step. Oscar's first top-three finish in Formula 1 (albeit in a sprint race) is by no means insignificant, and all you want to do is pull him into you over the railing and kiss him. But you can't. Not here, not with your brother and father, and the whole world watching. You've already agreed that keeping your relationship a secret is best for the both of you. Yet that doesn't stop you from wishing for more.
Instead, you’re left to sneak into his driver’s room as soon as your brother’s back is turned. He’s caught up in the media pen, chatting with Charles. Another thing you’ve learnt over the past six months is never to miss an opportunity when it presents itself – this is as good as any you’ll ever find, because Max is talkative at the best of times, but even more so when his childhood rival is around. You leave them somewhere between ‘safety car restart’ and ‘left-hand tyre degradation’. He won’t even notice you’re gone.
Oscar is halfway out of his suit when you arrive. His back faces you, covered only by his white fireproofs. You can see every move of his muscles beneath them. You murmur a soft greeting as you step into the room and close the door behind you, heart lifting to see him turn to you and grin. To the world, you know Oscar will appear calm and level-headed about his result – but with you, in private, he’s as happy as a puppy dog being given his favourite treat.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.” You whisper into his shoulder as he wraps you up into a hug. “You drove so well.”
His lips curve upwards, and you feel it against the skin of your neck. Oscar’s hands fall instinctively to your hips when you pull away, rubbing slow circles that he probably doesn’t realise leave burning trails against your flesh. You loop your arms around his broad shoulders, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, just as he likes. He lets out a contented sigh.
“I panicked at the restart.” Oscar smiles down at you sheepishly. You roll your eyes. It’s typical of him – always so critical, even when he’s just produced one of the best rookie performances in Formula 1 for years. Sometimes you wish he could see himself the way you see him. Then maybe he’d celebrate a little harder, look a little prouder when things finally start paying off for him. It’s not that he isn’t confident – but Oscar’s confidence is the quiet, self-assured kind. Sometimes you just wish he would shout from the rooftops about how incredible he is: because if you can’t do it, then you need someone to.
“It doesn’t matter.” You tell him firmly, “No one was going to be able to hold off that rocket ship. Not even you.”
He giggles at the term. It’s such a lovely sound, you think. Your favourite in the entire world.
“D’you think you can get him to slow down a bit? Give the rest of us a chance?” Oscar asks, arching an eyebrow mischievously. You grin back, a little reluctant to shake your head.
“I wish I could, but he’s just not wired that way.” You sigh. It morphs into a giggle when he grips your waist tighter, pulling you into his chest. You look up, and he’s already gazing down at you expectantly. His hair is still a little sweaty from his balaclava, but you find you like it that way. He has the cutest little ringlet sticking out from the rest of his relatively tame curls. You fight the urge to tug on it.
“You still haven’t given me a kiss.” Oscar remarks with another cheeky raise of his eyebrows. He leans forward, puckering his lips the slightest bit, and you laugh, louder this time.
“You’re such a dork.” You snort. But you press your lips to his anyway. Somehow, they always taste like some kind of citrus fruit – what exactly you can’t put your finger on. It overwhelms you, clouding your mind and your senses, making your knees weak. They’re soft too, his lips, like pillows. You can feel him smile into your mouth, swallowing your soft sighs. It’s not fair, you think, that a person can make you feel this way with just a kiss; not fair that you’re grappling at his shoulders for support, afraid your knees are going to give out if you don’t. He never lets you fall though. His arms are always there, pulling you in, crowding you against the wall, in your hair, all over your body, lighting every inch of it on fire.
Then there’s a knock on the door, and the spell is broken.
You turn towards the sound, breathing heavily. Oscar glances at you, with a look that reads keep quiet. He clears his throat, calling through to whoever is stood outside his driver’s room.
“What is it?” he croaks.
There’s some shuffling from the other side of the door. Then: “Uh – Team meeting in ten minutes.” The person says. Oscar calls back some kind of affirmation, but you don’t hear it. That feeling is back. The one where you long not to hide in secrecy. It’s so unfair that he makes you feel so safe, so loved, and you can’t even show it to the rest of the world. You want people to know that he’s yours.
“You ok?” Oscar asks after a beat of silence. Your eyes find his, and you nod. I will be, maybe, you think. You want to tell him that you’re sick of hiding, but you’re not sure how he’ll take it. You both have a lot at stake. What if he can only love you in secret, never in front of the world?
He kisses you goodbye, and you allow yourself to believe that’s not the case. Oscar isn’t shy about his affections – he’s soft and he’s clingy and his eyes when he looks at you are full of love. They’re your own reflected straight back at you. One day you’ll walk into the paddock, and it’ll be with his hand in yours. You swear it.
But if he doesn’t want that, a life in the shadows is surely better than a life without him.
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adventuringblind · 10 months
Text
Two Things to Celebrate
Oscar Piastri x Reader
Genre: fluffyyyyyyy
Summary: Reader gets sick during the race weekend. When she comes to congratulate Oscar on his race the next day, he finds out there is more to celebrate than just a good result.
Warnings: talks of sickness and pregnancy. Mentions of sex. Not proofread... *Snape impression* obviously.
Request: Yes, I'm here for it, I didn't know I needed this in my life until now. Also, requests are open. Specifically for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and possibly Danny Ricc.
Notes: written in second. This is out of my comfort zone.... much better at writing angsty things me thinks XD
Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!
Masterlist
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Oscar is the gentleman that everyone expects him to be. He opens the door for you. Buys you flowers on random occasions. He had pratically given you the role of passenger princess (not that you protested).
You, on the other hand, got the privilege of knowing that he is not always a gentleman. The side of Oscar that was only for those close to him.
He doesn't like showing his more vulnerable emotions to everyone. Lando, who had recently gotten close to Oscar, was shocked when he started yelling in frustration.
You knew there needed to be some reprive for him. The season had started off terribly. Often leaving Oscar in shambles after races.
He'd be calm for that camera. Always trying to find the positives of the weekend. Then found himself breaking down at home.
You hated seeing him like that.
Depending on the mood, you would simply listen and run your fingers through his hair. Other times, you distracted him with a nice meal and a movie of some sort.
When he was angry, though, you found yourself letting him use your body for reprieve. Letting out his pent up frustration and adrenaline from frustrating weekends became part of the routine during the season. Sometimes getting so frustrated with his results that you let him have his way with you for hours.
You two didn't think much of it. The sex was great, and the aftercare care even better. The thought of a second form of contraception not crossing either of your minds. You were on the pill and thought it would be enough.
That's probably the reason you got yourself here.
You were in Silverstone with Oscar. Both of you keep your fingers crossed that the car upgrades work as well for him as they did for Lando. It was killing you waiting for Q3 to start.
Maybe it was anxiety for Oscar, but you hadn’t been feeling the best for a few weeks now. You’d assumed it was just because of everything going on. Today seemed to worse then any other. The nausea becoming increasingly overwhelming.
Drinking water was only helping the pain so much. You needed it though. You are determined to watch Oscar finish. It was his first time getting into Q3 and you wanted to be ready and cheering with him when he came back. Whether he was tenth or not didn’t matter, he’s driving brilliantly which is always something to be excited about.
Then the feeling caught up to you. Quickly having to excuse yourself and find the nearest restroom. Only to to feel the water you had been drinking burning up your throat.
The feeling didn’t stop either. Your body deciding to continue ridding itself of whatever was in your stomach. Meaning that you spent the rest of Q3 locked in the restroom. Forced to watch from your phone.
You burst into tears when Oscar qualified third. Sobbing like a maniac over how proud of him you are. The suddenness of it making you keel over again.
Oscar got back to the garage as fast as possible. He couldn’t wait to find you thank you for having so match faith in him. Maybe he would take for a nice dinner to celebrate.
When he got there, however, you were nowhere to be seen. He knows you wouldn’t just leave without saying something, but where would you have gone?
He finally started asking anyone who would have been with in the garage with you. Eventually getting his answer.
He approached the bathroom door and knocked gently.
“Are you alright, love” Oscar wasn’t sure what had happened so he tried to keep his voice calm.
“It’s not locked I don’t thing.” He heard you rasp from the other side. Immediately he tried the handle to find that it is indeed not locked. He pushes the door open revealing your body barely able to hold itself up agains the wall. You were trying to stand on shaky legs but smiling excitedly and him nonetheless less.
You were grateful when Oscar came to help up upright. “I’m so proud of you.” You sobbed.
Oscars mix of emotions overwhelmed him. He had questions and concern for your well being but was smiling and embracing with joy.
Finally coming down from the high, he is able to address the current situation. His eyes scanned over you body and face. Particularly noting how your eyes are puffy and your cheeks shiny from tears. “Are you ok.” He finally managed to get out.
“Yes, I’m just not feeling the greatest. I think I might of picked something up.” Your throat still hurt from dry heaving leaving your voice broken.
Oscar move you to the side of him so he could help you walk out. “Lets get you home then.”
“But don’t you want to celebrate?”
“We can do that at home, in bed with tea to help you get well.”
Oscar bid farewell to the team. Telling Zak that it was urgent he get you home.
Being the gentleman he is, Oscar got you changed and into bed. He then decided soft foods were necessary incase you got sick again.
“Aren’t you worried you’ll get sick also?” You ask.
Oscar just smiles and crawls into bed with you. “And give up a cozy movie night? Never.”
You wonder for a moment how you got so lucky. Almost crying again at the thought. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to celebrate with you.”
Oscar whips his head around to look at you. An exaggerated look of shock plastered on his face. “Don’t you dare apologize for getting sick because you know it’s out of your control.” He pulls you into him and threads his fingers through your hair. “I do think you should go to the doctors in the morning though.” He admits.
Night came and went to quickly. Hating that you and Oscar had to say goodbye and go your separate ways. You’d taken his advice and decided to see a doctor just in case it was something more serious since you’d not been feeling well for a long while now.
A month ago you’d contracted an infection and had to be put on antibiotics. It was miserable but you thought you were on the mend. Seems you were mistaken.
The waiting was killing you. It had taken so long that you had to call Oscar to wish him luck then watching the race from your phone. It hurt you because you have a feeling it’s going to go amazing for him.
Finally after some tests, the doctor came in with the results.
“Congratulations,” she smiled. “You’re pregnant!”
Your fall falls open in shock. How did this happen? We’re you ready for this? You and Oscar had mentioned kids in the future but would he be ok with now? Your mind reels with emotion. Tears again in the verge of spilling. “How?” Was the only question you managed to get out.
“Well birth control doesn’t always work, and you had an infection recently correct?” She asks. You nod your head in response, slightly confused at the correlation. “Antibiotics negate the effects of birth control.” She explains.
Realization settles into your stomach. How could you not have know that? You mentally smack yourself for being stupid.
You thank the doctor and quickly get into your car. There is still time before the race ends and you’re determined to be there.
The drive goes by in a blur, listening to the race going as you drove. Getting slightly frustrated with the unlucky safety car but happy that Oscar was still up in fourth.
You finally got parked and practically sprinted to the McLaren garage. Just in time for the last few minutes. Everyone cheering wildly at the boys placing second and fourth.
When Oscar was finally able to get back to the garage after doing some interviews, he was not expecting to have you jumping into his arms.
He spins you in the air as you two embrace each other. “I’m so proud of you.” You smile at him. He only hugs you tighter and mumbles like ‘thank you’s into your skin.
When he sets you down, he looks relived. “Good news from the doctor then?” His eyebrows lift in curiosity.
“More like interesting news.” You immediately find that it’s much harder to tell him then you thought. Playing with the sleeves on your shirt instead of looking at him.
Oscar is immediately filled with concern again at your sudden change of emotion. “Whatever it is love, we’ll get through it.” He cradles you face in his hands. Gently coaxing you into communicating with him.
You inhale deeply, steeling yourself for whatever reaction he might have. “I’m pregnant.”
You find his eyes and search for any sign of anger or disappointment. Only to be met with an ear to ear grin. “I’m gonna be a dad?!”
Oscar picks you up and spins you again. “I guess we have more then one thing to celebrate tonight!” He shouts. The rest of the garage now staring at the two lovebirds. “I have to tell Lando. He’s going to be thrilled.”
You giggle at the relationship between the two boys. They’d gotten so close through all the struggles this season. Thankfully it didn’t take you long to find him. Not like it was that hard considering he is wearing neon yellow.
Oscar almost tackles him into a hug. Lando laughing at him, not having see this side of the Australian yet. “What’s going on with you.” He laughs. “The adrenaline getting to your head?”
Oscar makes a quick recovery and catches his breath. “I have to tell you something.” His smile so large it might come off his face. “We’re expecting.”
Lando stares between you two for a moment. Processing what he just heard. Before finally he shouts in happiness for you. “Oh my gosh this is amazing!” He smiles and throws his hand up. “I call being the godfather. I called it first so you can’t say no.”
You laugh at his antics. Both boys now coming back to you with cheery words.
As you and Oscar went home that night, you realize just how much you love each other. It might not have been what either of you planned, but neither of you would have it any other way.
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deltaromeo3 · 11 months
Text
ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ⋆ Lando Norris
pairing: Lando Norris x childhood!friend reader
summary: Good or bad, she was always there for him. But things between them changes once he starts to become rich and famous; but it’s not for the reason you think it is.
requested by: this ask
A/N: changed it up a lil! Hope you don’t mind. Enjoy!🫶🏼
How could he forget the one person who was always there for him?
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You knew Lando since he was racing in karts. Heck, maybe even before that. But this was a given since your brother was best friends with Lando.
Of course, with that comes the inevitable; liking your brother’s friend. You had no idea when it started but maybe it was that one summer day in Italy.
You were on summer break with Lando, your brother (of course) and their group of friends. This was a yearly thing, and they would always head down to Italy. This year, you decided to tag along after much bugging from Lando.
You were laying down at the back of Lando’s yacht reading a book while the rest were out swimming. Your peace and quiet was rudely interrupted when Lando splashed water on you, getting you wet.
“What was that for?!” You yelled.
“C’mon!” He gestures. “The water’s nice!”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “I will if you promise to buy me a new copy,” You showed him your now damp book.
He laughs, “Just one? I can buy you ten.. a hundred even.”
“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes. Cocky.
Nonetheless, you jumped in the water. He swims up to you.
“Liking Italy so far?” He asks.
“Yeah. It- it’s good.” You stuttered as you were shocked by the sudden closeness in proximity.
He smiles. “Good. I’ll make sure to bring you back here every year, kay?”
“You don’t have to,”
“I want to. I like having you around. Your brother? Not so much. He’s such an annoying-“ The conversation cuts off when your brother splashes water on the both of you, well mostly Lando.
“Oi!” He calls out.
“…prick!” Lando splashes water back at him and they start fighting.
You laughed at their antics. It has always been like this since young.
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With the closeness, came questions.
It was obvious that you were someone important to him.
Whenever you came by to his home in Monaco, the fridge would be stocked with your favourite drinks and the pantry would be filled with your favourite snacks. When your brother found out, all he said was “Oh I see that he has favourites. And it’s not me.”
You liked spending time with him, and he made it very clear he liked having you around.
Fans would even ask about you on his live streams.
And most of the times, he would call out for you (if you were with him of course.)
You would always smile and wave to the fans and it was like they would go ape-shit over you. Some even asked if you two were really friends, and you confirmed it by saying yes. He didn’t like you like that anyway.
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It has been a month. A month of Lando giving you the cold shoulder.
It started off when he didn’t acknowledge your presence in the garage. You knew something was off, but you didn’t want to bug him about it.
Usually, after every race he would bring you to dinner at a fancy restaurant. He would even go as far as asking recommendations from other drivers.
He knew you loved food and that it was your first in every country you went to with him, so he made a promise that after every race, good or bad, he would always bring you out.
But that night, after his race in Monaco, all you got was a “sorry I’m calling it an early night” text from Lando.
What a prick!
You were gutted as you were already dressed up. You sighed, throwing your purse on the bed.
That night, when you lay in bed, scrolling on Instagram, you saw his Instagram story. Lando did not call it an early night. In fact, he was partying with the other drivers. This obviously surprised you but you thought nothing of it.
Of course, you still went to his races, but it was like you were invisible now. Suddenly coming every Sunday started to feel like a waste of time; the person you supported didn’t even acknowledge your existence.
“And where are you off to?” Your brother asks.
You shrugged. “He doesn’t even want me here anyways,” You took your headset off and left.
You walked away from McLaren’s garage to go walk around the paddock… and right to Ferrari’s.
What better way to spend your time, right? Going somewhere you were actually wanted.
You walked into the garage, a sea of red hitting you. You weren’t used to this… you were much more familiar with the orange walls instead of red. The workers greeted you and you did the same.
“Cariño!” He shouts as soon as he sees you. He walks over to you, engulfing you in a hug. “What are you doing here?”
You smile. “Why? Can’t I come see my favourite driver?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Favourite?” He laughs. “Isn’t your favourite Lando?”
You rolled your eyes at the question. “Not anymore. It’s you now.”
He blushed. “Well, I’m honoured. And please, stay as long as you want.”
“I will.”
“Good. I’ll be back.” He disappears into the sea of mechanics and you stayed, watching him from the back of the garage.
This had been going on for a while, and obviously your brother had caught on.
At first, he too was confused to as why his best friend wasn’t talking to his sister anymore, he figured it was because the two of you fought, but that wasn’t the case. The pair of you never fight. A few disagreements maybe, mostly because Lando wouldn’t last a day without talking to you.
But soon, the reason behind that became clear on one night he was over at Lando’s, gaming with him.
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The laughter dies down. So I decided to pop the question. Y’know, rip it off like a bandaid or whatever.
“Lan,” I call out.
He hums in response.
“What’s up with you and y/n? Everything okay? You know I can always talk to her for you right?”
I see him let out a heavy breathe. “Nothing’s wrong,”
I squint. I know he’s lying. “Really?”
He nods.
“Cmon Lan.” I nudge him. “I’ve known you for years. What is it?”
He sighs, “It’s nothing Dylan. Nothing is going on.”
I sigh, “Well she’s saying she thinks it’s because you’re famous now, that the fame has gotten to your head. And I know that’s not it cause I’m sitting here playing games with you. She’s upset, Lan. Talk to her, will you?”
He laughs, but not because what I said was funny, more like in disbelief. “Tell her to talk to Carlos instead.”
I snap my head towards him. “Carlos? What does he have to do with this?”
“You should ask your sister,” He says, unhappily.
“Now why would I do that? You know I dont like prying into her life.”
“But you should. They’re getting close.” He scoffs.
“And what’s wrong with that? Wait, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
He laughs, again. “I’m n-not jealous!”
“You’re lying! Lando!” I smacked his arm.
“Dylan I swear, I’m not!”
“You like my sister!”
“I do not!”
“You son of a bitch! I knew it! You like my sister.” Now it was my turn to laugh in disbelief.
“Shut up.” He says. “If word gets out I know who I’ll have to kill.”
“Your secret’s safe with me. But you have to talk to her though.”
He just hums in response.
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You were scrolling on tiktok, waiting for Carlos to be done with changing. You came across a video of Lando and you. It was posted by what you assumed was a fan.
The video showed him looking at you. And it wasn’t a “that’s my bestfriend” kinda look… it was more of a “i adore you” look.
You scrolled past that tiktok video, brushing it off. Maybe you were overthinking it.
The video below that was of the same thing, just from another angle. You were so engrossed in the video you didn’t even realise Carlos was calling out for you.
“Cariño?”
You snapped out of the trance, quickly switching off your phone.
“Carlos,” You smile.
“Ready to go?”
You hum in response.
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You no longer joined Lando for race weekends anymore. As sad as you were, you figured well, this was one way to get rid of a crush and someone who has been there for him this entire time.
You picked up your phone, calling your brother.
The line rings, and finally, “I need to talk to you,”
There was silence on the other end, “It’s about Lando, isnt it?” Your brother asks.
You sigh, “How’d you know?”
“You’re my sister. I know everything. What’s up?”
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“Lando!” I shout as I entered his room.
“Lan! Lando!” I yell out once again.
“What!” I hear him respond. Sounds like it’s coming from the shower.
I barged in to the shower, Lando quickly covering himself.
“Relax. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked.”
“Fair point.”
He relaxes and continues to shampoo his hair.
I took a seat on the toilet. “You said you’d talk to her, right?”
No response. He just goes silent. “Lando?”
“I…I have. It’s sorted.”
“Is that so… then why did she call me, crying?”
“What?” The water stops. Lando opens the glass door, poking his head out. “She’s crying? I made her cry?”
“Yeah. You did.”
“Well, shit. I fucked up, didn’t I.” He pinches the bridge of nose.
“Yeah. You did.” I repeat myself.
“I didn’t mean for it to get this bad, I swear Dylan. Everytime I try to talk to her, I can’t do it. Mate she’s got a thing for Carlos, not me.”
I laughed at the absurdity.
“Mate, you got to be shitting me. It’s my sister we’re talking about here.” I stopped. “Do you not see her lock screen? Even after all this while it’s still a picture of you during your first Euro Championship win. She still saves your contact as ‘bubba’ because that’s what she used to call you.“
I can see him form a slight smile. “Well that’s funny. I still have her contact saved as ‘nugget’.”
We laugh. “Icing her out like this is no way to do it. You love her Lan. Don’t let her think otherwise.“
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You were tossing and turning, hoping to fall asleep. You figured it would be easy to fall asleep as it was raining. Usually the sound of rain usually lulls you to sleep easily. But tonight just like the other nights you were wide awake, thinking of Lando.
How could he forget me? How could he just toss me aside after all the times I was there for him? Did he just forget me because he’s rich and famous now? Do I not fit into his lifestyle? I know I’m no model but… God I miss him.
Suddenly, there was a knock on your door. The knocks were just getting more impatient. You groaned, leaving your bed. “I’m coming! Jesus.”
You unlocked the door in frustration, but all that frustration went away when the person who stood in front of your door was none other than Lando Norris.
“L-lando?” You croaked. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“Hey,” He smiles. “Can I come in?”
“Uh, o-of course.” You stepped aside as he enters.
He clears his throat. You were still confused. When did he come home?
“So, listen.” He says, as he takes a seat. “I’m…” He exhales. “I’m here to apologise. It’s not that I forgot you, or that you don’t fit into my lifestyle. You do, and you are one of the few people that understands this more than anyone. So,” He pauses, gathering all the courage he has. “I’m here to say that, yes.”
Yes what?
“Yes, I do like you. I’ve liked you since you took that trophy off my hands in Italy. I’m sorry I hurt you. And please, don’t ever doubt your place in my life, you’re always on top… after my career of course.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “What took you so long?”
“What?”
“I said, what took you-“
“No I heard you the first time. I dunno.” He shrugs.
There was silence between the two of you. “Okay.” Was all you could say.
He leaves your apartment, relieved but unsatisfied. Maybe he was expecting a kiss. A hug? Maybe even for you to jump on him and cry?
He unlocks his car. It was pouring. When he was about to enter his car, a familiar voice stops him.
“Lando!” You stood, under the rain.
He rushes over to you. “What are you doing?! You’re gonna catch a cold! Your brother’s gonna kill me.”
You laugh. “I forgot to tell you,”
“Tell me what?”
“That I like you too. About damn time!”
He smiles. The widest you’ve ever seen. “Really? You don’t have a thing for Carlos?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve always had a thing for you though,”
He smiles, again. “Well, me too. I’m sorry it took me so long,”
“It’s okay. I was waiting. I was here all along.” You smile. He holds your face, brushing the rain on your face away with his thumbs. The gap between you two closes as he kisses you under the rain.
You pull away, “It’s not safe for you to drive home. And I need someone to keep me warm,” You flash him a cheeky smile.
“I’ll gladly be your human heater,” He says, kissing you once again.
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scarlettohairdye · 7 days
Text
Home Ownership Was a Mistake
This is for @trickybonmot, who may or may not use some of these stories in a fic.
Okay. So.
In the year of our lord 2010, my wife and I were lucky enough to be gifted $20k by my parents, which in those days (given it was a historically low point for real estate prices in Seattle) was enough for a down payment on a house. It was an astounding confluence of luck and privilege that led to us being homeowners, because if they gave us the same money now it would go precisely nowhere.
Anyway, it was not enough money for a large house, or a fancy house. We looked at a lot of places, only some of which were move-in ready (and one of which was absolutely just a tear-down) and eventually settled on our current place, which is a 1910 bungalow with a detached garage that was finished and turned into a studio.
Was it the most aesthetically pleasing house when we bought it? No. The walls were white, the carpet was light beige, and the paint had seen better days. That said, it was move-in ready and the owner was pretty desperate to sell, so we took it!
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The inspector let us know that some of the wiring was still the old knob-and-tube, so we'd want that updated sooner rather than later, but it looked pretty good. About half the outlets were grounded, so it didn't stop us from plugging in three-prong appliances. We just had to use more extension cords than maybe we'd prefer.
The Electrical
The first big house thing we paid for was to have the entire place rewired. Our circuit breaker was a mystery, we didn't have enough outlets, and we were tired of being stuck with specific layouts of our stuff due to the lack of grounded outlets. We were expecting about half the wiring to be up to code, and the rest would need an update.
Spoiler alert: HAHAHAHAHAHA.
The rewiring took about a week, and every morning the electrician sat down with us and told us what new fire trap he'd uncovered.
"Yeah, so the knob and tube wiring going to the lights in the ceiling? Knob and tube gets hot when it's running, and yours is under three layers of insulation."
"You know how you thought your outlets were grounded? They weren't, actually, the ground wire just went elsewhere into the house and wasn't connected to anything."
"So there's wiring in your crawlspace? Whoever put that in nailed some sheets of wood paneling over it, so we had to rip the wood paneling out to access it."
I think the job was about $15k when it was done, we had many many more outlets, and our house was no longer one bad day from lighting itself on fire. Victory, I guess?
The Studio Window
This was leaking a bit, and we knew it was leaking when we moved in. (South facing walls get all the weather in our region.) We were not handy enough to replace it ourselves at the time and we also didn't have money because I got laid off shortly after we bought the house and was making my living doing costume commissions. Solution: Trade costuming work to an acquaintance who did carpentry.
The window, we discovered, was not so much a finished window as it was a single sheet of glass sandwiched between some boards.
Badly.
The carpenter was not entirely she that she was qualified for the job, but she did manage to remove the single sheet of glass and replace it with a window that was insulated and actually capable of opening. She used caulk around it. It was way better than we had before. Maybe someday we'll have both studio windows replaced by a contractor who actually does windows, but this is not that day!
The Siding
The cedar shingles were no longer cutting it at a certain point, so we had the house resided. (Houses are money pits, in case you didn't know.) This was a $30k job (MONEY PIT!) and had several layers of badness.
Bad: Our house had no insulation. It was cedar shingles over the original siding, with nothing in between that original siding and our INTERIOR WALLS. There was occasionally a newspaper. Our PM asked if we wanted insulation? And we said yes, please!!! We did not have a lot of time to think about insulation or research the best type, so it's just sheets of the pink fiberglass stuff in there, but it exists and we have it now!
Worse: Underneath our laundry room was a horrorshow. The laundry room is an addition that was added to our house probably sometime in the 50s? And, uh...
Well, the siding guys pulled off the siding, took a look at what was under it, and immediately called the project manager. The project manager came out, took a look, and then called us. He said that the siding guys thought it really needed to be reinforced and stabilized before they re-sided it, which is very fair, because I think the people who built it originally were drunk when they did it. It was a fucking Wild West cowboy construction situation under there.
Yes, you heard that right: A LOAD-BEARING SHINGLE.
Our project manager also informed us that the siding guys couldn't do the reinforcement, because they're just siding guys. They don't do structural. This is very fair.
It also needed to be done by Monday so we could stay on schedule for the siding work.
We learned this on Friday.
I immediately called my general contractor dad and got his voicemail, because (I remembered belatedly) he was in Mexico getting dental surgery. There was absolutely no way we could get another contractor out to do the work over a single weekend.
It was up to us.
My wife and I (mostly my wife) went HAM on it. We rented big jacks from the tool library to prop the laundry room up while we replaced one of the entirely rotten support poles. One of the big telephone poles was so wrecked with dry rot we could kick it out of place. (It didn't even touch the BIG ROCK that was supposed to be its foundation!!! It was floating!!!) Several of the joists were also fucked, so we ran new joists alongside them and married them together. My wife dug holes while crouched in a 4' high space, filled the holes with gravel, compacted it by putting a piece of wood on top of it and hitting it with a mallet, and then installed an entire additional support system from 4x4s and deck blocks. She actually attached the support system TO THE FUCKING HOUSE, which was a big improvement from the way it was originally held on by vibes and paint.
Here's a tasty little before and after:
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(Yeah, see how that visible joist at the front just... stops at the far left? There's a new joist right behind it now.)
This was completed with resounding cries of, "Good enough!" and "It's better than it was before!" The siding guys thought it was fine and sided over it. Someday hopefully we will be able to afford to tear the whole thing down and rebuild it with a properly poured foundation, but in the meantime the spin cycle on the washing machine no longer shakes the whole house. Victory?!
Ridiculous: The purple paint saga. My wife and I are lesbians who tend toward maximalism in our decoration style. Construction companies find this baffling. We paid extra to our siding company to get the extended color choices (if you order the siding with the color baked in it lasts longer, but you're limited to a particular range of colors) and spoiler alert: 90% of them are boring as fuck. We basically paid extra to have access to 400 shades of white and 400 more shades of beige. There were like three saturated colors in the whole book. Pathetic.
Anyway, we chose the one nice teal that was available and decided we'd paint the door purple, since all the purple colors were gray at best. The project manager then forgot to put in our order, and when he remembered he'd forgotten, ordering our siding through his company would have pushed back the start time by six weeks. We could still make the original start time if we ordered through a different company doing the same thing, though!
Me, immediately: And we wouldn't be restricted to your color palette, right? Him: Yeah, they can do custom colors. Me, slapping down a color card called "Fully Purple": MAKE IT PURPLE.
Bless this man, he went to the siding company and asked for Fully Purple. They told him they couldn't do that color, and also is he sure anyone wants this color? He called them on the phone and informed them yes, we did want that color, and also that he'd worked for them and he knew damn well they could do that color, they'd just have to custom mix it, so they needed to do their fucking jobs. Suitably chastened, they finally sent us a sample of the siding, and it was... okay. It was purple for sure, but a little de-saturated. Not the purple of our hearts.
I asked if they'd actually started manufacturing our siding yet or just sent the color sample. The project manager confirmed they hadn't, and if we ordered this imperfectly-purple siding now, it would be several weeks before we could get started.
"We're gonna paint," I decided, and our project manager put in the orders.
The paint store called him and said, "Hey, are you sure you want this color?" Yes, he assured them, that's the right color.
The guys doing the painting opened up the can and then called him and said, "Are you sure this color?" and he told them yes! They want that color!
At this point I told him he should just start responding with, "They're lesbians!!! Yes! They want the purple! They're lesbians!!!"
Eventually we cleared every hurdle god and the construction industry put in front of us, and now our house is Fully Purple.
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It also has insulation, wiring that won't kill us, and a laundry room that hopefully won't collapse anytime soon. We got a heat pump installed that took shockingly little time and worked immediately, and our next project will be having the roof redone. Check back in to find out what fresh horror awaits us then! I think it'll be a second roof under our existing roof made of lead and asbestos tiles, probably!
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vax-merstappen · 1 month
Text
press delete pt.2 (cl16)
summary: even though he’s dating a new girl, charles still keeps the pictures of you on his phone.
warnings: breakup, general angst
hope you all enjoy this highly requested part 2! i actually liked writing this one more than the original lol
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Charles had spent all day with the supermodel he had been seeing ever since your breakup. She was good company and had known Charles when he was a kid. He got along fine with her, but they were just friends. Someone he could talk to, even if they would never dance in the rain together or stay up late at night drunk on his balcony.
Just someone to fill the void.
After he had dropped her off back at her place, Charles had driven home himself. He had taken a shower before collapsing on his couch. As soon as he opened his phone, he saw that pictures of them together were already on social media. He wondered whether you had seen. Whether you had cared.
He opened his camera roll, looking back at all the pictures he couldn't bear to delete.
--
It was the first time he had invited you to come watch him race, his personal guest in the Ferrari hospitality. You had shown up wearing a T-shirt with his name and number on it, a red Ferrari cap on your head. He remembered how just seeing you in his team gear had made his heart flutter.
You had run over to him in the paddock, pulling him into an embrace. The cameras were flashing, but he knew you didn't care. Charles hugged you back, whispering in your ear how glad he had been to see you. He vowed then and there that he never wanted to let you go.
He gave you a tour of the paddock, showing you the places he knew the cameras wouldn't follow and the best places to grab food before the race. He had spent so much time in various tracks like this that he knew it like the back of his hand. He only hoped you would one day feel the same, having come to many more races of his.
When it was time to head on track, he had given you one last embrace. And before he went, he asked if he could take a picture with you. Him in his race suit, you in Ferrari gear. You happily obliged and he took his favorite picture of the day, just the two of you in his garage.
He would look back at that picture whenever you couldn't make it to a race, remembering that you were cheering him on from home. Even though he hadn't won that day, getting to spend it with you had been its own sort of victory.
As he looked at the photo now, all he felt was regret. Regret that maybe you didn't understand how much you had meant to him and how much better he felt with you around.
He couldn't make himself delete the picture and so he scrolled on.
--
A few minutes later, he found another picture that brought back memories. He chuckled to himself, remembering that day.
It had been Christmas time. You both had spent Christmas Eve with Charles family, as they celebrated the holiday. On the actual holiday, you had asked him to spend a cozy day in instead of celebrating in an extravagant way. He had agreed, wanting nothing more than to spend the day by your side.
But he had to still get you a present, no matter how many times you had insisted the only gift you wanted was to spend time with him, away from everything. He had searched endlessly for the perfect present for you, finally settling on something he knew you would appreciate. It was tickets to see a band you both listened to in concert. One of the first things you bonded over as a couple was your love for their music. It was perfect and he was so excited to see the look on your face when you opened the tickets.
Christmas had rolled around and as promised, he spent the morning cuddling with you in bed. Around lunch time, he had got up to make the two of you a brunch. His cooking skills were lackluster to say the least, so you had joined him the kitchen a few minutes later. He could still remember how you looked in the soft morning light and how you sounded when you laughed at how poorly he had chopped the ingredients of your favorite dish.
About halfway through the meal, he had handed you the envelope with the tickets. He had tried to hide how excited he was, but he knew you could read his emotions like a book. You opened the simple card he had bought and your eyes had widened when you saw the tickets.
But instead of getting all excited as he imagined, you burst into laughter. He felt his face getting red and he started to panic. Had he messed up? What was so funny?
"Mon amour," you had said, finally pausing in your laughter. "Go look under the Christmas tree."
Not knowing what else to do, he had stood up from the table and walked over to the tree. There was a small box underneath. He grabbed it and walked back over to you with a look of confusion. You nodded and he opened it.
Inside were two tickets to the same concert.
"You bought the same thing?" he had asked incredulously.
"Yes. I thought you would love it."
"Well I love it so much that I bought you the same thing," he laughed, now understanding what was so funny.
He had taken a picture of the two of you together each holding the tickets the other had bought. Your smiling faces stared back at him now from his phone. You had known each other so well. How had a relationship so deep crumbled?
He couldn't bear to let go of the memory. He scrolled to the next photo, stopping himself from pressing delete.
--
He had finally reached the last photo from your relationship. It was you, standing on his boat. One of his oversize shirts was on your shoulders. He always thought they looked better on you. With the image, the circumstances under which he took them came back to him. That he would delete it when you two got back together.
He thought back to that fateful day.
You had gone out together on his yacht. He had hoped it would be a lighthearted and relaxing break from the stress that had been plaguing your relationship. He saw you standing close to the edge of the boat and he had remembered a time where you had pushed him into the water, jumping in after him yourself. He walked over with the intention of recreating the fun moment.
But the second he pushed you, he knew he had misjudged the circumstances. You had shouted at him.
"Mon amour, it was just a joke Don't take it all so serious. We are here to have a good time, no?" he said, trying to smooth over the situation and bring some brightness back into the day.
"Not if you are going to throw me in the ocean."
He had sighed, wishing you could just appreciate the day with him. You two had descended into an argument afterwards. He didn't remember what he had said, only that he had wanted to make you see that he wasn't always the villain. Sure, he had neglected you in the past in favor of his career. But he was here now, wasn't he, trying to make it all better?
The rest of the argument was a blur in his head. Up until the point you had uttered the words that finally broke him.
"I don't think this is going to work anymore."
He had tried so hard for you. But his best wasn't good enough and he could see that now. Somewhere along the line you both had lost your understanding of the other person. Your relationship had become built on memories of the past and differing ideas of the future.
He had blinked back tears behind his sunglasses. He didn't want you to know how bad you had hurt him. Charles knew he had his fair share of blame for how things had turned out. He didn't want to cry in front of you now. He could hold it in until he got home, as much for your sake as his own.
The words he said next were crystal clear in his mind.
"Okay. We can take a break. But let me get one last picture of you to remember you by. And when we get back together, I will delete it off my phone so we don't have to remember this day? Ok, ma cherie?"
Charles had taken the picture that stared back at him now. Even now, he could tell how unhappy you were in the picture. It was clearly a fake smile that you had given him.
But even though the picture and the memory of how it all fell apart had pained him, he couldn't bear to delete the picture off his phone. The hope and the promise that he could still end up with you were too much to throw away.
Instead, he clicked onto your name in his messages. He selected the picture of you on that boat. His finger hovered over the send button. He had a choice to make.
But surely if you had wanted to see him again, you would have said something. You were probably happy now without him. He didn't want to ruin your peace. So he clicked out of your messages and into hers.
He sent another text back to the model, asking if she wanted to see him again next weekend. If you had wanted him out of your life, he owed it to you to make that happen. Even if he couldn't make himself delete your memories from his phone.
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charlesslut16 · 8 months
Note
yn being nervous to meet Carlos family for the first time because she never had a good relationship with her family
-you are family now-
summary : pistanthrophobica : fear of trusting people due past experiences with relationships gone bad : y/n is nervous to meet carlos family
PAIRING : carlos sainz x fem!reader
WARNINGS : a bad relationship with family, anxiety, insecurity
note : CARLOS IS ON THE FIRST PLACE ON THE PODIUM!!!! I FEPEAT : CARLOS IS ON THE PIRST PLACE ON THE PODIUM! I'm SO proud of him!
masterlist 
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Today was the day. The day you would meet carlos's family. Carlos was so happy that you had agreed to meet them. If you said that you were nervous, it would be an understatement. 
The relationship between your family and you was, you could say, bumpy. You had never gotten the support and love from your family. They always had something better to do. You were never a priority. 
The child that had to play alone because her family was never there for her. No one of your family was there. With 18, you had, finally, decided to leave and build your life without them.
And now you were sitting in carlos's car driving to his parents' house to meet his family. The whole car ride, you were in your thoughts. Playing with your hands and bouncing with your leg.
Carlos being carlos, he noticed instantly that there was something going on. He laid his hand on your thigh to calm you down and distract you, as he knew that you were deep in your head.
“Cara mia, what's wrong?” Carlos asked with concern laced in his voice, while running his hand up and down your thigh. He wanted you to be happy and comfortable. My beloved.
You hadn't even heard his question, too deep in your thoughts. But minutes later, Carlos took your hand in his. The car had stopped and was parked on a side of the road. 
“Are you okay? We can still turn around, and I can tell my parents that we will come another time. They will understand.” And just as carlos pulled his phone out of the console, you answered him.
“I- I… I just… I'm nervous. What if your family does not like me, or what if I do something to embarrass myself. What if I disappoint you, and you will want to not date me anymore?”
Carlos was taken a back on your answer. How could you think that you could disappoint him? You are his everything. He hated that you had such cruel thoughts in your head.
“This will go perfect. You are perfect. You don't need to worry, if we have each other, we are okay.”
You nodded with a smile and carlos squeezed your hand as a reassurement. He started the car and started driving the car again. His hand finding the spot on your thigh again.
For the rest of the car drive, you distracted yourself by playing with carlos big veiny hands or him telling you some facts about his family to calm you down fully.
And then the time came. Carlos parked in front of his parents' house. This was the time. You took a final deep breath, stept out of the car and took carlos hand in your for assurement.
At the front door, Carlos rang the bell, and you waited for the door to open. A few seconds later the door opened and his mother, Reyes, opened the door with a welcoming smile.
She looked at the both of you for a second before pulling carlos into a warm hug. Reyes let him go and just as you wanted to stick your hand out to greet her, she had pulled you into a warm, welcoming hug.
After the hug, she welcomed you in the house and you three walked in. You were still a bit taken back because of the hug. It was something new, to be given such a sincere, loving hug from a mother.
You shook the feeling away and walked into the living room where te rest of the family members were staying. The first person that greeted hugged you was his father, carlos.
Then his older sister, Blanca, and his younger sister, Ana. After the both of them came his cousin Carlos, who you already knew from the Ferrari garage. Knowing that he was there two made the whole thing a bit better.
You let out a breath, knowing and realizing that they were all very friendly and nice to you. It was like the load disappeared from your shoulders, and you could breathe normally.
Every family member asked you question after question, but you were happy to answer them, feeling great that they were so happy to meet you. It felt absolutely amazing that people were interested in you.
You ate dinner and talked about carlos and you, his family, or about normal things. At first, it was weird talking to so many people at dinner, but after some time it came naturally.
It felt like you had experienced it before. Like you were a pro. But you didn't. You never had a family dinner, where you talked about the things that were important in your life.
It felt… It felt like you had a new family now. One that would not judge you or hate you for a decision you made. They accepted you and loved you like they own. Well, that was what his mother had said to you.
After dinner, you all cleaned up the table and when you brought your plate into the kitchen, carlos cousin pulled you to the side, so no one could hear what he wanted to say to you.
“And was it that bad?”
“What?”
“Carlos told me that you were really nervous to meeting us all.”
“It wasn't that bad” you joked, and he gave you a side hug until you saw carlos coming in your direction. His cousin left and was replaced by carlos who snuggled into your side.
And a while later you returned to the table because they all wanted to play a game together. This was also something you had never experienced with your family.
You played until the late evening and stopped as everyone was starting to get tired. You packed every thing away and you and carlos said goodbye to his whole family. The last one was his mother.
“Mi dulce querida, you are a part of the family now. I'm so happy to have met you. You are a lovely girl. Carlos and you are perfect for each other.” My sweet darling.
And as you sat in the car and drove home, you thought about the entire day. 
You were finally excepted and loved by someone who you didn't even know till yesterday. It was like a new you was born. A new you that excepted herself as she is.
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hee0soo · 9 months
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My drunk Baby
Summary: Filming a certain episode of Wanteez has left you with a more than just tipsy boyfriend! Lucky for him, he´s cute!
Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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You didn´t know what exactly what woke you up. Was it Byeol who had decided to grace you with her presence or maybe the honking of passing by cars? You honestly didn´t know!
With a quick glance at your LED-alarm clock you realized that it was already close to3 in the morning and San, your boyfriend had yet to join you in bed for the night.
It wasn´t unusual that he was staying late at the company or that he decided to go back to the dorm with Seonghwa and Mingi because of an early schedule, but today you could swear that he would be coming over after he was done filming.
Something about filming new content for Wanteez and having the day after off to recharge their energy!
San hadn´t gone into specifics about what exactly they were going to film and you had long given up asking since he had kind of made it a tradition to watch their content with you to see your reaction.
This time however you got a bit worried as your boyfriend always made sure to at least text you when he wasn´t coming home. That´s why you forced yourself to became a little more awake to reach for your phone in the dark.
The brightness of the screen almost blinded you and you had to blink a few times to get your eyes used to it.
Surprised to see that you had a couple texts from not just San but apparently half of the other members too, you read through them all.
The first thing you noticed was that all of them had apparently lost every sense of grammar they had.
The second thing was Hongjoong apologizing for something you couldn´t quite figure out. Wooyoung sending you at least 20 pics that wouldn´t load due to KQs horrible Wi-Fi and San sending you a voice message with almost 5 minutes in length!
The last one was a message from Seonghwa.
Pls come pck up yur boyfrien and tak care if him??? ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅  -received 2:23 am
Are they… drunk???
Your suspicion proofed to be correct when you started listening to your boyfriend´s voice message. You could feel yourself going soft as you cooed at San stuttering his way through the message, repeating the same thing about 3 times before trailing of and end the message with a soft and tired, “…nd I luv *hicks* you m´bby…”
Not being able to spot the giggle from escaping your lips followed by a sigh, you sat up in your bed.
Byeol, not happy about being woken up from her slumber threw a sassy glare in your direction before going back to sleep.
“I´m sorry cutie,”
Your phone lit up again. Another message from the groups oldest member.
I knw your up! DON INORE ME AN GET SANNIE HOM!!! -received 2:34 am
Alright, alright! I´m on my way… Dorm or company? -sent 2:35 am
drm -received 2:36 am
thanxx ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ -received 2:36 am
With a loud groan which made Byeols ears twitch gently, you threw the warm blanket off of your body to get dressed, opting for a pair of grey sweatpants which belonged to San judging by the size and one of his shirts laying on top of the clean laundry basket, you had yet to put away, you grabbed your phone, a mask and your car keys and walked out of the apartment with a pair of cat ear slippers on your feet.
They had been a birthday gift from Haneul, your boyfriends sister claiming that she couldn´t not buy them for you, seeing as San was basically a human shaped cat!
The drive was shorter than usual with just a few cars passing by. It was in the middle of the night after all!
Suppressing a tired yawn, you parked the car in the private garage of the apartment complex, greeting the security guard who already knew you from your countless visits at the dorms and vanished inside the elevator taking you to the correct floor.
You always found it impressive how they always managed to be loud enough to already be heard outside in the hallway and knowing that they probably wouldn´t be able to hear the doorbell either way, you punched the security PIN into the lockpad and let yourself in.
What you saw, was definitely not what you expected.
Yes San, Seonghwa and Mingi weren´t the type to say no when offered a cuddle, but seeing 3 fully grown men clinging to each other like koalas to their mother, whispering and giggling in hushed voices together was not on your bingo card for the night…
Leaning against the wall, you continued watching the 3 unnoticed for a while.
You didn´t know what they were talking about since their hushed whisper was soft enough to not be heard where you were standing.
“hmm an y/n does ths thng with their tongu-“
“Sannie!?” hastily you cut the drunk boy off, preventing him from spilling more than he probably already had.
Sans head whipped around at the sound of your voice, happy to see you.
“YEOBO!”
Mingi flinched slightly at the sudden increase in volume from the older 99-liner.
You were honestly surprised he was able to pronounce the word properly with how droopy his eyes were, face dangerously red from alcohol and seemingly close to falling over even though he was still sitting, leaning against the back of the couch.
“Come on you big baby, let´s get you home and in bed!”
Upon hearing those words, the performer got up, looking a little like a newborn lamb I doing so, and stumbled over to where you were. Pressing a loud but still sweet kiss to your cheek before wrapping his arms tightly around your middle!
You waved at the two other boys left behind on the couch, fondly rolling your eyes as they continued giggling.
Careful, as to not let him fall flat on his face, you helped put on his shoes and led him out the door.
It was a short walk but turned out to take way longer as San kept swaying, slowly losing the fight against the sleepiness.
The security guard waiting in the garage, couldn´t hide an amused smile as he watched you drag your half conscious boyfriend to the car.
Once he was seated and you took your place behind the wheel, you wanted to start the engine but were ultimately stopped by San grabbing your face in his hands clumsily, turning you to face him.
With wide eyes and squished cheeks you stared at him.
“Kiss?” he pouted, lips pursed cutely and waiting for you to follow his request.
His eyes were almost completely shut sitting there patiently.
You weren´t able to deny him a kiss even on a normal day, let alone like this!
After having received his kiss, he happily let you go to lean back. Smiling satisfied.
“Cute,” you said quietly to yourself before putting the car in reverse an dpulling out of the parking lot.
It wasn´t a surprise that the giant boy fell asleep and thankfully he wasn´t as hard to wake up as you had expected with the way he had started snoring.
Byeol greeted you two at the door, wrapping herself around your lour legs before doing the same to San.
“Byeol-ah! Oppa´s home!”
Bending down to pet the cat, he almost lost his balance if you hadn´t reacted as fast as you did.
“Yes and oppa needs to go to be right now!”
He let himself get dragged into the bedroom, flopping on the bed and closing his eyes, ready to let sleep take over but you forced him to at least get rid of his jeans and into his sleep shirt before whipping the remaining make up away for his face.
Dazed, he watched as you gently took care of him, enjoying every second of the pampering.
“Why are you looking at me like that San-ah?”
The boy shrugged.
“Luv you so mch my bby! Thnk you for takin care ´f me!”
His words made your face feel exponential warmer than before.
Throwing the makeupwipe into the trash can, you came back  to sit next to him, pulling the blanket over him before pressing your lips gently onto his.
“I love you too my drunk baby!”
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shardsofmarxx · 2 months
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Lost | Spencer Reid x GN! Reader
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Criminal Minds Songfic based on/inspired by the song Lost by Dennis Van Aarssen. (This is a cover of the song "Lost" by Michael Bublé)
Summary: After a long case, Spencer decides to surprise you with a visit to your apartment. Once he arrives, he realizes that you've been struggling, and he does his best to comfort you.
Warnings: Talk of medication, and bipolar II. Reader is clearly going through a depressive episode.
Word Count: 1.8K
A/N: So sorry for the delay in getting a new fic out!! Between my busy college schedule, my mental health, and writers block, it took me wayyy too long to come up with a solid idea for a fic. I was randomly listening to this song one day and was suddenly hit with the inspiration for this, so I ran with it! I really hope you guys enjoy this one :)
Spencer rushed to his car, excited to see you after dealing with a long case in Florida for the past two weeks. He didn't tell you that the team finished the case because you two just hadn't talked much today. Now that he was thinking about it, he realized you two hadn't talked much at all these past two weeks, aside from casual good morning and goodnight messages. Regardless, he was sure you'd be happy to see him.
Spencer drove out of the parking garage, whistling some tunes and tapping his fingers as he winded down the road to your apartment. He got there relatively quickly, seeing as you only lived a 5 minute drive away from the BAU. He parked his car, got out, and eagerly headed up the stairs to your apartment.
Once he got to the door, he fished out the spare key you had given him when you two first started dating and unlocked the door, opening it very slowly so as not to startle you awake. He walked in, quietly taking his shoes off and placing his messenger bag by the door. He carefully walked through the hall and saw light coming from the living room, accompanied by the low sound of the TV. He stood in the doorway and found you asleep on the couch, watching Friends reruns. As he walked towards the couch, he noticed miscellaneous wrappers and bottles strewn around the floor. He furrowed his brows and diverted his path over to the kitchen, only to find the sink full of dishes and the trash slightly overflowing, along with takeout containers spread across the counter. He walked back into the living room and over to the couch, kneeling on the floor beside you. He looked over at you and moved some stray hair strands out of your face, being careful not to wake you. He saw your eyes were puffy and your cheeks were still a bit wet, which he deduced was from crying.
Spencer’s profiler brain quickly began putting everything together. He knew you had been struggling with bipolar II for a while, but things had been getting better. He made sure that you were seeing the best people in the field for your treatment. Your therapy sessions, along with the current medication you were on, seemed to be working fine, so he didn’t understand why this was happening. There was no way you would have hidden your symptoms that well from him; after all, he was a profiler. He sat there, racking his brain, trying to figure out what could’ve gone wrong.
Suddenly, it hit him.
Spencer quickly, but quietly, got up and walked to the bedroom. As he walked in, he turned on the lights and went straight to the nightstand on the right side of your bed. He quietly looked through the cabinets until he finally found your medication. He picked up the bottle and saw it was much fuller than it should be, confirming his suspicion.
You hadn’t been taking your medication since he left.
Spencer knew this feeling all too well from all the times his mother would refuse her medication. He felt a wave of guilt rush through him as he sighed and returned the bottle to the nightstand. He slowly trudged back to the couch and sat on the floor so that he was right by your face, completely enthralled by your beauty as you slept soundly.
As Spencer stared at you, his mind began to wander. He felt guilty for not realizing the implications of your distance from him over the past two weeks. Although he loved his job, he hated how busy it could get and how it could cause him to neglect the things he cared most about, like you. Most importantly, he felt guilty that he couldn't be there for you. He did his best to push all these thoughts out just as quickly as they came, telling himself that he should just focus on the present. He was here now, and he was going to do anything and everything he could for you. He sat by your side, gently caressing you until you finally awoke, stirring for a few moments until your eyes fluttered open.
“Spencer?” You croaked, your voice slightly raspy from sleep, “What are you doing here?”
“We landed a while ago, and I figured I’d come surprise you,” he replied softly, accompanied by a warm smile.
You sat up and rubbed your eyes for a few moments in an effort to wake yourself up. As you looked around, you realized the mess that was your apartment, and memories of how you'd been spending the past two weeks began to flood your brain. As this was happening, you came to the realization that Spencer has seen all this too, which means he’s definitely figured out that you’re off your meds. You immediately stand up, and Spencer does the same, a look of concern forming on his face as you lead him to the door.
"Well, Spence, this was a lovely surprise, but I have a busy day ahead of me. You really should get going,” I said, handing him his messenger bag. As you reached to open the door, he grabbed your wrist, his warm touch causing you to turn back around.
“Unfortunately for you, I can't be fooled that easily.” His voice trailed. “I'm not leaving you, darling.”
He grabbed the messenger bag from my hand and kneeled down to place it back by the door. He stood back up and placed his hands in yours, giving you a soft look with his warm, hazel eyes.
You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. All you could do was stare at the floor and mumble. “Nothing's going on, Spencer, really.”
“I doubt you would go off of your medication for nothing,” he replied matter-of-factly, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “Listen, I understand that dealing with this kind of stuff is hard, really hard, but you can't keep me in the dark forever. I'm your boyfriend, and I'm always going to be by your side, no matter how hard things get. We're a team, remember?” He paused for a moment and cupped my face, making sure you were looking him in the eyes for his next sentence. "You're not alone, honey. I promise.”
As his words echoed in the room, you felt tears form in your eyes. It had been so long since you had heard those words— so long since you had someone express such genuine care and concern. You were so used to the shame, disgust, and scolding from others in moments like these, yet he displayed none of that. It wasn't long before sobs began to creep out of your mouth, and you stuffed your face into Spencer’s chest. He just held you tightly in response, rubbing his open palm on my backside and whispering words of love and care in your ear as you wept.
Eventually, you lifted my face and met his eyes once more. He gave you a small smile as he gently wiped the tears off your cheek.
“I say we go over to the bedroom and talk; does that sound good?” He asked softly.
“I think that's a good idea,” you answered.
He held your hand tightly as he led you to the bedroom. When he entered, he lay down on the bed first, motioning with his hand to the empty space beside him. You laid down, and he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in and completely enveloping you in his warmth. You both laid there silently for a few minutes, basking in each other's company. You lost yourself in the sound of his gentle heartbeat for a bit before you remembered what you two were here to do. You took a small breath, lifted your head from his chest, and began to speak.
“I didn't like the way I felt when I was on my medication; nothing felt right once I started taking it. I felt like I was a robot or something.” you began. “One morning I woke up and had enough, so I stopped taking them, and I felt great; I felt alive... Well, at least I did for a bit. After a day or two, it felt like reality just came crashing down and-” You paused, feeling a sob creep up your throat once more. "Suddenly, any trace of happiness was gone, and I crashed. I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed, leave the house, or talk to anyone, especially you. I just felt empty.” You stopped for a couple more moments, glancing over at Spencer, before speaking again. “I was lost and didn’t know what to do, Spence, I’m so sorry…” You finished, your voice trailing.
Spencer never stopped comforting you as you spoke, raking his fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to speak up once you had finished.
“Unfortunately, that happens a lot to people when they're on medication. I’m really sorry I couldn’t be there for you, honey,” he said, holding you tightly. “We can make an appointment with your psychiatrist to discuss changing your medication as well as looking for other treatments that might benefit you.” Spencer began rambling about various treatments for bipolar II that he had recently read about. Once he got word of your diagnosis, he poured countless hours of research into learning everything there was to know about it. He wanted to make sure that you received the best treatment possible, and, most importantly, he wanted to make you feel as understood as he could. After all, he knew all too well what it was like to not be understood by anyone around you.
He began rambling about things he had found in his most recent research on bipolar II, and you felt your heart swell with joy. Even though all you could really do was nod your head every once in a while and let out a few “mhms'' and “hmms” to assure him that you were listening, mainly because you didn't understand what he was talking about half of the time, you appreciated this more than he would ever know. After all, it was his way of making you feel loved and understood. Eventually, Spencer ran out of things to say and stopped talking. He turned his head down to look at yours, moving some stray strands of hair out of your face before he spoke once more.
“Y’know, because this case took so long, we got a 3-day weekend from Hotch,” he said softly. “I could help you clean up the apartment and keep you company these next few days, if you’d like.”
You met his gaze and smiled warmly at him. “I would love that, darling.”
Spencer smiled back at you and jumped up from the bed. You were barely able to get a word out before he bent over and picked you up, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding you securely against his chest.
“Spence, what’s gotten into you?!” you said, trying to stifle a giggle.
“C’mon, let’s go get breakfast,” he said, wearing a wide grin on his face as he carried you out of the bedroom.
Thank you so much for reading! If you have any ideas for fics you want me to write in the future, feel free to send them in my ask box!
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gothicflowers · 5 months
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Alejandro x Reader
“You speak Spanish?”
SFW Fluff
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Warnings: Fluff
It was just a crush at first. I mean he’s tall, dark, handsome and a voice that will make your knees weak. You felt like a teen again blushing every time you were around him. It’s been six months since you stepped off that plane and were greeted by Alejandro. He quickly picked out an affectionate nickname for you. Unknowingly to you he loved seeing you blush whenever he called you it.
He admires your eyes, your laugh, the way you fidget with your clothes when he talks to you. But most of all how caring you were. You always checked in on everyone after missions. You had a way of speaking and showing love and compassion in everything you do. He wants to give you the world. He wants a necklace around your neck with both your names engraved. He realized it all when he found you lounging on the old couch in the garage wrapped up in his blanket reading book.
“What is that book your reading about”
“It’s a love story”
“You read love stories, I didn’t take you as a reader”
“Most people read to escape a reality to go to one they want to be in”
“Is that what you desire”
“What”
“Love, and romance. That is what you want.”
“I guess so”
“Do you not have that waiting for you at home”
“No, I don’t think there is a man who understands this job and could meet my needs who would be willing to love me. Do you have someone?”
“I have my family but not someone to come home to”
Being in tf141 made it almost impossible to have a relationship. How each of your teammates had spouses was something you couldn’t figure out. You had given up on dating or any idea of a future relationship. But over these past months you’ve grown extremely close with Ale. He would bring you books, small trinkets that reminded him of you. Flowers would randomly appear on your table whenever he got back from scouting. Always having your coffee made when you walked into the meeting room. Things that where small but so important to you.
-
The mission was done. A small celebration was held with everyone involved in the operation. The night was finally unwinding and most had turned into their beds for the night. But something had caught your attention. Alejandro’s office door was cracked open and his was talking to Rudy, you’re not one for ease dropping but you could play it off like you where going to grab something from your bed so why not listen in momentarily.
“Me he enamorado de ella pero no quiero alejarla. Ella es todo lo que quiero, todo lo que jamás podría soñar. No quiero que t/n se vaya sin que yo diga lo que tengo que decir.” (I have fallen in love with her but I won’t want to pull her away. She is everything I want, all I could ever dream of. I don’t want y/n to leave without me saying what I need to say) his voice was desperate and full for worry. It was clear in Rudy’s body language from what you could see that this wasn’t the first time Alejandro was talking about you this way.
Entonces ve y dile cómo te sientes hermano. (Then go and tell her brother) Rudy was practically begging and laughing at the same time for Ale to confess to you.
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He felt the same way about you. Slowly backing away from the door you practically skipped like a child to outside to your recent lounge spot. What do you do now?
-
It was well past midnight when you heard footsteps coming up from behind.
“Seen you out here so I thought maybe you’d like some company” Alejandro’s deep voice said.
“I always enjoy your company” you shyly say to him with your cheeks blush covered by the night sky.
He sat next to you on the bench for two. The crickets chirping and the breeze was a soothing silence. You needed to tell him, just get it off your chest. The mission was over. So if this conversation doesn’t go well you will be heading back to base in two days anyways and you could forget about him.
“You know all you have to do is ask”
“What do you mean mi amor” his eyes staring deep into yours.
“Pídeme que me quede contigo y lo haré. Te escuché hablar con Rudy y he estado tratando de encontrar una manera de decirte lo mismo” (Ask me to stay for you and I will. I overheard you talking with Rudy and I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you the same thing.)
Ale looked at you in shock. Partly in shock that you just said that all in fluent Spanish but that you’re asking him to take you.
A brief second of panic sets in when he continues to say nothing. Then his lips are crashing into yours. His lips are soft and are in perfect sync with your lips moving against his.
“Stay with me. We can build a life together.”
“I will stay for you Alejandro”
He pulled you in for another passionate kiss. After what felt like eternity you both pulled apart for air. Foreheads still touching. His eyes blown full of joy and love for you.
“You didn’t tell me you spoke Spanish”
“You asked if I knew enough to get by, not if I was fluent”
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