#but I am glad you all have stuck with me for this long
Note
hello! I see you have requests open...(?) for the hobbit/lotr, and I was wondering if I could request a modern!thranduil x reader fanfiction? the reader is some sort of barista/baker/other thing, and Thranduil is obviously all rich and shit and comes in once, is enamoured by shy, flustered reader and then becomes a regular? obviously, they end up together in the end. thank you!
Lattes and Love | hobbit
pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑
it's a rainy monday, perfect for a meet-cute with the new, handsome and rich customer that you totally don't embaress yourself in front of
tags/warnings: coffeeshop!au, fluff
wordcount: 2,7k
an: oh, this was such a good request! Thoroughly loved writing it :)
+ masterlist + rules +
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3
"Falling for customers strictly forbidden!" was the non-negotiable rule for anyone who found themselves working at the loveliest café in Laketown; 'Beans & Leafs'.
Despite being written out on a wooden board behind the counter and in the kitchen, this rule was obviously ignored by more than half of the employees; the others were either happily coupled up, had no interest in romance, or had such an unhealthy work-life balance that this didn't matter anyway.
You, on the other hand, a longtime single and die-hard lover of romance novels, were one of the employees who couldn't go a month without an over-the-counter crush, serving coffees and teas as well as heart eyes and shy blushes.
You had perfected your craft of pouring coffee while thinking of scenarios where, instead of getting a tip, the handsome brunette with the gentle smile would wait until the end of your shift and invite you out for not coffee, but a drink, perhaps.
These fantasies did no one any harm; you would even go as far as to debate that the love you pledged for the customers was an ingredient that fitted exquisitely into the crushed beans and steamed milk.
There had never been any complaints, so there was no reason whatsoever why your boss, Bard, flung his arm out and pointed at the sign when the doorbell chimed one rainy Monday morning.
The weather had been particularly awful the entire weekend, clouds hanging low and leaving you to barricade yourself into your apartment, and when you'd left the house this morning, paddling away on your bike and avoiding muddy puddles as well as you could, the skies were still gray and gloomy. Inside the café the warm lamps tried their best to fight against the pale sunlight that fell through rain-streaked windows, coloring everything in washed-out watercolors.
When you followed the length of Bard's hand however it was as if the sun broke through, even if it was only for the few seconds you stared at the man who just entered the shop and stepped into the small line of customers.
He was breathtakingly gorgeous, right up the alley of models you saw in fashion magazines with his sharp cheekbones and the pair of high-waisted jeans that hugged his waist perfectly. Even his long black coat seemed like it was tailored for his broad shoulders and he looked, by all means, expensive.
"Eyes, Darlin', eyes."
It was only when Bard gently nudged his hip against yours as he passed you from behind and tapped one finger against the sign again, that you bewilderedly realized that hadn't been a direction to the customer's eyes – oh boy, they were twinkling like starlight – but rather a command to advert yours.
"Stop bossing me around," you groaned quietly, glad for the jazz music that played from speakers over your head and the chatter of the few other customers that had found their way into the 'Beans & Leafs'.
"I am your boss. I have every right to command you 'round," Bard said, knocking his knuckles against the sign, "And a rule 's a rule. Doesn't matter if you're the best worker I've got 'round here."
You stuck your tongue out at him of the corner of your mouth under the pretense that it was nothing but concentration over the milk you were pouring into a cup for the customer in front of you.
"You're so annoying," you said as you turned your back on the counter to grab a new cup. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
The question was directed at Bard but it's not his warm voice that answers your teasingly snappy question, but a deeper one without the familiar drip of Bard's accent:
"Yes, actually, so I would appreciate my latte with three shots of espresso for takeaway please."
You immediately flew around, hot shame bubbling up straight into your cheeks as you squealed, "Oh shit– I mean, shit, sorry!"
Of course. Of course, the 6ft beauty was the next in line, casually resting one arm on the counter and scrutinizing you with those captivating bright eyes that, now that he stared at you and there wasn't anything between you except the bar and miles of shame, did look exactly like starlight. This was so unprofessional and it didn't help that you were frozen on the spot.
You heard Bard's rough laughter, saw him shaking his head in not-so-quiet disbelief out of your peripheral vision and it only fueled the blush that took over your whole face. "I'm so sorry," you apologized and lowered your chin to look away from the customer and down to the coffee machine instead.
Flaming red cheeks reflected in the silver metal greeted you as you let the machine take over for the espresso – arabica beans from Brasille, rich, sweet and slightly nutty, and, if brewed correctly, which you always managed, would leave a lingering taste reminiscent of dark chocolate. "Whole milk, oat, almond, or soy?" you asked, swallowing the lump of embarrassment that was lodged in your throat.
"Oat, please."
You nodded and fell into the rhythm that you were used to, that, despite the hope the ground would tear up and swallow you completly, comes like second nature. "I just want to let you know that I truly wasn't talking to you," you started and foamed up the milk, hiding behind the steam.
The customer huffed out an amused laugh. "No? You're only that cheeky to your employer?"
Great, now he thought you were an employee who didn't respect her higher-ups. "No no! It's a joke," you cringed at the nervous chuckle you laughed, "Nothing serious, just joking. He knows I would never disrespect him, he's a good boss, one of the best actually! And–" you heard your rambling and wanted to close your eyes at the next blink and never open them again, "– and I should probably stop talking now."
Bard passed you again, patting one hand fatherly on your shoulder though this helped barely because the slight touch immediately zipped straight through your spine. In what could only be described as unfortunate timing your arm flinched forward, breaking the carefully concentrated pouring of steamed milk into the paper cup, and to your horror you watched as the foam parted through the coffee.
And created the perfect heart.
You gave yourself a second to breathe, to stare down into the paper cup and this was totally fine; you made latte art all the time and most of your favorite customers got a heart one day or another. And even if you didn't know the man at all and already made a fool out of yourself, other coffee places did this as well.
It's just coffee.
But it was never just coffee with all the love you poured into it, wasn't it?
So you steeled yourself, ignored the churning of your stomach, and plastered on a flustered smile. "Here's your coffee, Sir." The heart cheekily smiled right back, foam bobbing on top and this was definitely a moment you would be thinking about, maybe even use as an opportunity to reevaluate the importance of Bard's stupid sign. "Cash or card?"
He already pulled out a sleek wallet, manicured nails and long fingers pushed a neat $20 over to you. He wore a smirk, the corners of his mouth turned so far up that white teeth showed and dimples buried themselves into his cheeks. "Cash. I suspect the tips go straight to–" one finger lifted and pointed straight forward, "you?"
"Me," you repeated and quickly shook your head, "I mean yes, they go to me."
"Good," he chuckled, "wouldn't want anyone else to share what you earned rightfully, don't we? Keep the change."
"But Sir!" you protested because this tip was ludicrously big for a latte; more than double the amount of what he had paid for the drink on its own without the free show of you being a complete fool.
The man arched an eyebrow though it carried nothing but curiosity instead of the superiority that it would communicate by an older, more stuffy guy.
You busied your hands, cleaned the frother, and emptied the remaining ground coffee into the trash before you ran a rag over the machine, or otherwise, the probability of ruining your nailbeds was much too high. "The coffee's maybe not to your liking – what if you absolutely hate it?"
"Then I will simply order another one another time," he replied and the hope that sprung up inside your chest, another time– another visit, he would come back– bounced around your ribcage and threatened to burst right through.
Your throat clicked as you swallowed, looking up from the dark brown coffee that filled the next mug, coffee black, arabica beans imported from Peru, fruity and perfect for the cappuccino order, up to the man, this stunning beautiful man who tipped like he could throw away money and not notice the amount missing, the epitome of all what you've dreamed about and exceeding those standards the longer he stood around.
You grabbed the opportunity, damned the sign because why the hell should anyone be forbidden to fall in love with him and bit down on your lower lip, smiling softy.
"Could I get your name?"
"I already have my coffee," he said amused and the heat was back in your cheeks. "But it's Thranduil. Nice to meet you," Thranduil's starlight eyes dropped to the name-pin buttoned to your apron and flittered back up, warm and deep voice wrapping around your name in a manner that was close to too overwhelming. "Now, let's try this drink, shall we?"
Completely entranced by his soft-looking lips that twitched back into a smile at the sight of the heart, eyes locking on yours again as he lifted the cup, you watched him take a sip.
A soft hum.
Long lashes fluttering shut against the apple of his cheek.
Yep, there was no way back from this. By the end of your shift, you would probably bike home and dream about this moment, when Thranduil opened his eyes again and you were still staring, caught despite the line forming behind him, other customers held up by Bard, this wonderful man you would never ask anything of him ever again, and Thranduil competed in the new game of who would look away first.
"Sweet," his voice was still deep, coated by a warmness that only satisfactory coffee would bring, and you swore you tasted the chocolate on your tongue as you bit down on it.
The way your eyes scanned the work area to check if you had accidentally poured sugar into his coffee, he didn't order any, right? – and while the oak milk carried some sweetness with it, it wasn't much but what if– were a clear message of slight panic, nervousness of having gotten his order wrong and Thranduil quickly deescalated the deep frown forming in your eyebrows.
"Ah, don't worry. I wasn't talking about the coffee," Thranduil said, and, lifting the cup to his lips, he winked at you over the rim.
He left you like that, mouth hanging slightly open while your mind ran the calculation of whether or not he had flirted with you.
You spent the rest of the day in a haze, only managing the midday and afternoon rush with the memory of Thranduil whom you swore, you saw rushing past the window of the shop in the evening, long hair flying in the wind at his quick steps and if your mind didn't play tricks on you, his head turned when he passed you, eyes finding yours in a second that quietened down all the sounds.
The next day, he came in again, a phone pressed to his ear and an apologetic voiceless: "So sorry," when the call was seemingly important enough for him to take his latte, foam-heart included, and dashed back outside, leaving you another hefty tip but no further interaction.
You sighed.
For good measure, you even glared at the sign.
Thranduil stopped by on his way to work every morning from Monday, Thursday and Friday, ordering his latte until it waited for him at exactly 7:45, the heart inside the coffee wandering onto the takeaway cup when you started scribbling his name onto it, first on the dot of the 'i' and then, later, when you were brave enough, next to the name.
It was a hurdle, more than often you had the sharpie pressed into the paper, blacking out from sheer panic that seeped through you like the dark ink that ended up either a smiley or a flower or full stop.
Thranduil would come in, sweep you off your feet by simply smiling or smirking at the new doodle on his coffee, steaming hot as soon as the bell announced his arrival, and leave. Never without tipping you enough for you to buy a new bike at the end of the first month of him visiting the 'Beans & Leafs'.
On Saturdays, Thranduil came in and settled his tall body into one of the window tables, entirely oblivious to all the ogling he got from passersby as well as customers, they stared all the same at his beauty and the weekend always got better because his sole focus was on you.
On Saturdays, he got his coffee, a Cappuccino served in dark blue mugs that complimented his white-blond hair and the rosé of his lips that savored every last drop, and he started asking you for your opinions on the breakfast options.
The first time he did it, long legs crossed over each other and his head propped up on his hands listening intently, you rambled on the entirety of the menu, babbling on and on and on:
"We got wonderful apple rose tarts, that truly look like roses, and rhubarb pie or a lemon shortcake – that one goes perfectly with the chocolaty taste of the coffee beans! And we have croissants, banana bread, and a cheese Danish!"
"Mhmm, all of those sound ama–" Thranduil started but was interrupted by your nervous continuing chatter:
"And of course, you could have a chicken and avocado sandwich, if you want something more savory. Or our chefs make a mean bacon and egg one with arugula and a blueberry vinaigrette?" you asked and threw a quick look to Thranduil who hid his amused smile that lit up his whole face behind his fingers. "Oh, or are you a vegetarian? Then I would recommend the olive, tomato and hummus bagel, but maybe you don't like olives. For that, we have a walnut quiche–"
"Yes, I am vegetarian–"
The smile bloomed past the, noticeably large, hands, the corner of his mouth curling up while his eyebrows furrowed in the concentration of keeping still, watching you in awe as your breath held on far longer than his ability to remain calm and it was only a matter of time until you were done.
Your eyes landed on the dimples, the soft crow feet next to his eyes, and low on oxygen you finally managed to detangle yourself from the menu that you had previously, in preparation for this moment, had carefully written down on your notesblock, the page now crinkled at the edges and most of the ink smeared under the hard press of your thumbs.
"Great! Do you want me to repeat the vegetarian options?"
Thranduil ordered all of your recommendations.
Not all at once, it wasn't past you to bring out dozens of plates at his request but Thranduil kept to two cups of coffee and worked his way through the display of cakes, pies, breads, rolls and sandwiches, always prepared by you.
You served him his first coffee with a heart in his mug and a plate for him to eat and after rushing through the next hour, eyes locking across the room now and again whenever you looked up from the coffee machine and he from his plate, you would bring him his second cup, carrying the heart-coffee and another one for you to sip on during your break, legs brushing against each other under the small table.
It was there, at this table, that Thranduil asked you out, not two months after the first interaction.
It was also at this table that he kissed you for the first time, tasting like love, lattes and a bit of chocolate.
©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart
#📁files: thranduil fanfics#thranduil x reader#thranduil oropherion#thranduil fanfiction#king thranduil#thranduil x you#the hobbit x you#the hobbit x reader#the hobbit fanfiction
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2 Cents
(Get it? Cause it's all about change? I'm hilarious)
The response to SAS has been stunning, to say the least. Duh, of course you know what I'm talking about -- Woooahhhhh the major anti-endo is pro-endo now!!!
Only, I really don't want to frame it like that. And... I'm so relieved to see so many taking it in stride and not framing it like that.
Me and Dude have been friends for a very, very long while -- or at least it feels like a long time. DID makes it hard and all to really realize how much time passes. But I consider Dude one of my close friends at this time, and I hope people can see why. He's a person who's willing to change, albeit stubbornly, and he works so hard to be kind -- even when the world has been so much less than kind back.
And one thing I've always known is that Dude was anti-endo, but willing to compromise on those opinions and beliefs if it meant furthering the science of it all, and understanding more about all of this. As time went on, it became understanding more about CDDs than ever before, fueled less by frustration and more by genuine curiosity. It's what attracted me to this friendship in the first place.
Seeing Dude repeatedly start to say that he is pro-endo warmed my heart, but not because of the pro-endo part; it was because of the change part. Because so many people struggle with that, with the idea that they can change. Me being one of them.
It's been... so difficult trying to carve out a place in syscourse. In life. I started out pro-endo and manipulated into very nearly thinking I wasn't a DID system at all. I moved to this nebulous area where i was harassed for stepping out of line. I was neutral, I became anti-endo, neutral again -- constantly flip flopping because I didn't have anyone or anything to hold onto. I didn't get to have a community. I didn't get to be anything other than The Bad Guy.
While I was in a CDD server, I at least had that community, but even that wasn't what I wanted. Even that wasn't good for me, even if it was good in other ways. Maybe I'll find the good again someday.
But seeing this outpouring of support... As someone who now no longer uses any syscourse label (Call me what you want, I really don't care), it's a goddamn relief to see someone being accepted with open arms. It's a relief to see people being so kind and generous, both with asks and with comments. I have to be blunt and say how jealous I am, seeing the outcropping of support.
But I'm also relieved to see my experience really is far from the norm... while also acknowledging that I am incredibly braced for impact at the moment due to those experiences.
I'm an incredibly stubborn person, I'm able to admit it. I struggle to change. I'm incredibly set in my ways. But I also do change, rapidly, flipping on a dime when I think it's what the other person wants. (Honestly, part of why I appreciate Dude so much was his insistence on slowing down, getting the facts, and making an educated decision based on that). And recently with syscourse, I've felt as if I have to slam my fist into the table and shout and scream about How Pro-Endo I Am, just in case anyone was lumping me in with those anti-endos -- but then I saw how some pro-endos were acting, and I felt I couldn't say anything about it-- ugh, I'm rambling.
All that is to say, I've felt so... stunningly alone lately, even with the support of my friends. I'm alone in syscourse. I'm alone in recovery. So many of my friends are moving on, healing, growing, and... Here I am, just a silly little circle on their blog, young and stupid and dumb.
So I'm glad people are accepting Dude, not as a pro-endo, but as someone who has grown. It gives me a lot of hope for my future. A lot of hope for finding a community -- not as a pro-endo, or anti-endo, or syscourse anything.
Just as a person.
Does that make sense?
I hope other people out there, stuck in syscourse like me, feeling very alone in a very large world, can see how willing people are to extend a hand. I hope I've extended my own enough. I just... have a lot of hope for the future.
@sysmedsaresexist Thanks for helping give me that right now <3
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2 Years With Panda-Writes-Kpop
2 years. Holy shit.
The last two years have been chaotic and adventurous, entertaining and draining, and fun and emotional, but I wouldn't take back any of it. ❤️ I've had so much fun maintaining, managing, commenting, and being this online persona that you've all come to see, interact with, and enjoy. I mean, 1,300+ followers is absolutely nuts to me - I just enjoyed writing for the sake of writing and self-improvement. To see engagement on this level has been mind-blowing and phenomenal, and I'm so thankful. You've all helped lead me to new friendships and new experiences, and I couldn't be happier and more thankful to all of you.
So, here comes some good news - I won't be fully ending this blog. There just won't be regular posts or longer fics with complex storylines. I've come to the realization, over my 2 month hiatus from writing, that I enjoy writing for K-pop idols in smaller amounts, like with drabbles or reaction-style content with the idols that I currently write for. In simpler terms, after December 1st, I'll be taking a one-month hiatus before posting content that is similar to the slushie prompts and other reactions that I've done in the past.
There's a lot of work that I want to get done to help transition into the phase, and I think you'll find these changes helpful and necessary.
And the easiest, introduce you to @kit-kat-katie 😌 This is my writing blog for other fandoms like the Hunger Games and Obey Me. This blog will also hold any longer-style fics or fics that feature a different writing style than what you might be used to here. (I'm putting up a Ryujin fic in a week or so.... so you should go follow if you wanna see that. 🤭)
Separate and re-vamp my rules for writing and my navigation page. It's an absolute train wreck right now, and the end goal is to make it user-friendly to me and to you.
Revamp the masterlist - again, mostly because I think I'm about to hit the link limit on mobile for the Dreamcatcher page, but it also needs some fixing up, plus I want to add some more groups to the main masterlist.
Add more groups and soloists to the masterlist - this is just me needing to sort through variety content for these groups, but if you're curious, here are the groups. (Aespa, New Jeans, IVE, Somi, Eunbi, and more to come, probably.)
Re-open requests. This should be the last and final thing I need to do for this blog. I'm going send out a post when I do, and I'll be encouraging requests to help me finish the slushie prompts since that'll be my goal for 2024. 🥰
Revamp @archive-of-queens - This blog was supposed to be about archiving this blog, but since I'm no longer doing that, it'll serve as a graveyard to all the ideas that never came to life. I just need to fix the intro post, and then I can start to release the content that's been sitting there for a while.
I also need to overhaul the WIP page, but that'll happen in that one-month hiatus.
I'm so excited to start a new era - an era that will be less stressful on me but still provide quality content for you all. I will not be missing the schedule of the WIP that I currently have 🫣 so I'm hoping that having more freedom with less time constraints can help the creativity flow more. ❤️ Thank you for being along for the ride, and I'm so happy that you all will hopefully choose to stay with me for what's to come.
Thank you for a great two years, and here's to next year. 💗
#2 years is nuts tbh#but I am glad you all have stuck with me for this long#announcement#katie talks
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Simple Math / Part Eleven
Simple Math masterlist
Ghost/Soap/female reader
6k words - AO3
Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic depiction of domestic violence. This fic contains mature themes. Mention of pregnancy. Nurse!reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Bun is in pain, goes to a doctor. Dissociation. Lots of despair, fear, anxiety. The 141 reunites. Nightmares. Comfort. Tenderness. Angst.
Welcome home.
“Knock knock.”
“Bunny.” Johnny murmurs, lifting an arm, urging you close, a moon to a tide.
“Hi.” You bend, moving into the hug, pressing your face to his neck for a quick second before straightening.
“I miss ye.” You survey him, glancing at the monitor, the brace on his leg and hip, the disconnected fluid line. He’s doing well. You’re so relieved to see it with your own eyes, ribs rattling with a long exhale. Satisfied, you smile, tension bleeding from your spine.
“Simon says you’re terrorizing your night nurse.”
“Am not. She’s jus’ not gentle, or quiet. Wakes me up.”
“That’s her job.” He scoffs, waving you off. You settle in the chair at his side, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips, dotting kisses across your knuckles. His affection is freeing, sweet and easy, a warm breeze on a spring day. It overflows your heart with warmth until you think it might spill over, and you go with it, following his lead, even though your better judgement, the girl in the mirror, wails.
“Ye look good. Better. Swellin’ gone down?” He cradles your chin, turning your face from left to right, inspecting with a crystal-clear sapphire gleam.
“Yeah, my shoulder is still sore but… yeah. I feel better.”
“’m glad. Simon keepin’ ye off yer feet all day then?”
“Oh my god.” You laugh. “He keeps telling me to lay down. Or asking if I want to take a nap.” Johnny chuckles.
“Sounds right. He’s a bit o’ a mother hen, that one. He cares though, we both do.”
“I know.” You squeeze his hand. “And I missed you too.”
“He said ye an’ him had a nice chat the other night?” Your cheeks burn. Oh god. Did he… “I’m a wee bit jealous.” He complains, turning his nose up and away in a mock pout, and you roll your eyes.
You laid in bed all night and thought about these moments. Thought about Simon’s mouth on yours, his hand on your ass, squeezing and stroking. You thought about how he tasted, how he smelled, the way he looked at you, like you were a part of their world, a piece of them.
And you thought about Johnny. Johnny alone here, Johnny trapped in the hospital, healing, unable to leave or even get out of bed. How anxious he must be, being separated from his family, how frustrating it is to spend so long trying to get better.
You wanted to give him something. Wanted to make him feel better, see him smile.
Here goes nothing.
Leaning, standing, you dip into his orbit, lightly bumping your noses together. It takes no time until his good hand is around the back of your neck, crashing your mouth into his, and he breathes you in, holding you steady, tongue and teeth and lips swirling together in a ubiquitous, overwhelming haze. He tastes like summer rain, the feeling in the air before a giant storm, electric and blazing, brilliant glow transferring between the two of you, lightning striking a mountaintop. He nips your bottom lip, heat flooding your stomach, and you pull away slowly, his eyes jeweled and shimmering, brilliantly blue.
“Bunny,” You try to swallow a quiet giggle and fail. “I’ll have to tell ye I’m jealous more often.”
“Don’t take advantage.” You playfully scold.
“Me? Take advantage?” He pretends to be outraged, voice piquing higher, and you laugh again. “How can I take advantage when ‘m the one stuck here in this bed while ye two are at home, playin’ house, takin’ couch naps and gettin’ butt rubs. No one cares about Johnny, no-“
“Shhh.” You press your lips to his, silencing him, remaining in the kiss that’s long and soft and saccharine. He sneaks his tongue back between your teeth, mischievous and wild, every bit the man you’re drawn to, an attraction you can’t fight.
“Well.” Simon clears his throat from the doorway, brows raised, mask snug. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” You don’t know why, but you fly backwards, nearly stumbling, cheeks on fire. You feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, and that feeling, the pit in the bottom of your stomach, is all too reminiscent.
It frightens you.
“Whoa, hey.” Johnny tries to snag a finger around your wrist, but you step out of the way.
“It’s alright.” Simon moves inside fully, clicking the door shut behind him. “You’re not in trouble. Nothing is wrong, I was just kidding. That’s my fault.” You shake your head.
He’s not mad. Johnny is fine. Everything is fine.
You’re overreacting. You’re making a mess of this.
You shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place. What’re you doing? Who are you kidding?
“I’m s-sorry.” You stammer, hands wringing together anxiously.
“Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry about.” Johnny protests, still trying to reach for you.
Get it together. You have to get it together.
You close your eyes.
Deep breath. In and out. You can do it. Just breathe.
It works. You’re steadier, and you meet their watchful gazes as your eyes open.
“You okay?” Simon murmurs, moving very slowly to the other side of the bed where you’re standing, like he’s approaching a spooked, scared, wild animal.
“Yeah. Sorry. Just… had a moment. I’m fine.” Not entirely true, but that’s alright. You feel a little unsteady, a little unnerved, and Johnny frowns.
“Ye should sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“Bunny, please. For me?” He bats his eyelashes, and you want to groan.
But you lower yourself in the chair all the same.
Quiet falls over the room. It’s awkward and stiff, and you curse yourself for ruining the moment.
“Hey.” Simon soothes, reading your mind. “Hey, you’re alright. Everything is fine.” You nod, unsettled. He squeezes your good shoulder and dips past you, leaning to press a gentle kiss to Johnny’s brow, before dotting his nose and pushing their lips together. Their kiss is long, languid touch melting away to expose their connection, trust and love on full display. Delicate and rare, their affection makes your heart flutter, pulchritudinous whispers given to one another as Simon holds Johnny’s hand, stroking a familiar pattern into his skin, something similar to the way he touches you. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Wish they’d let me out of this bloody bed.” Johnny grumbles. You clear your throat.
“They’re waiting on your wrist. Once your wrist can support your weight on crutches, then you’ll be able to start PT and be released.”
“Ach. I know.” He’s frustrated, it’s clear. You know it’s not easy, being here, being separated, stuck in a hospital.
“It won’t be too long.” You try to reassure him, and he nods, still a little forlorn. “Here,” you stand with a burst of confidence, knocking his arm with the back of your hand as a direction, “scooch over.”
His eyes light. Simon laughs.
You fold yourself onto the edge of the bed, turned on your side, curled along where he’s the least banged up, careful of the sensitive graft lurking beneath his hospital gown.
“There. That better?” His good arm wraps around you carefully, settling on your ribs, a thumb tracing the wrinkle of your shirt.
“Aye, much better.” Your knees are bent, and cool air ghosts over your lower back, where your shirt has ridden up and exposed your skin. You shiver.
“Cold?” Simon murmurs, and you nod. He’s close, hovering, pulling a blanket up from the end of the bed to cover both you and Johnny. He tucks it around the two of you carefully and leans forward, pulling his mask down again to brush his lips across Johnny’s brow.
You watch in a daze. They don’t speak, but there’s something happening between them, something being said in their eyes as Simon holds his face briefly, and Johnny nods.
They both look to you, your bottom lip caught between teeth.
“Want one too?” Simon hums, cupping the back of your head. “Here.” He kisses you, lingering in it, heat of his naked mouth still a shock to your system.
Johnny is beaming, and cuddles you as close as possible, cheek resting atop your forehead.
They make you dizzy. All of it feels like some kind of dream, a world impossible, a fantasy suddenly turned real life. You’re on the verge of spinning out of control inside it, losing yourself.
It doesn’t help that everything you’ve done over these last few years, this identity, this life, the work that went into hiding and planning and saving and scraping, trying to stay unseen and unnoticed-
Was all for nothing.
“Bunny?” Johnny whispers, bringing you back to them. Simon is settled in the recliner, the same one from the ICU room, but his arm is stretched past your head, fingers playing idly in Johnny’s very long mohawk.
“Sorry. I’m here.”
“Where did ye go?” He tightens his hold, and you snuggle in closer, hiding away from everything bearing down on you, the pain and the panic and the doubt. You hide your face from it, refuse to acknowledge it, desperately trying to stay in this moment, hoping to just be… be here with them. In the sun.
“Nowhere.”
A day passes. Then another, and another, and another. Your face nearly looks normal, puffiness and swelling practically gone, and your neck aches less and less with each passing day.
Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a problem.
It never stops hurting. You struggle to get your arm through your shirts, can barely lift it, can't pick anything up, and it’s so sore, tender, and stiff, like it’s been dislocated or worse, broken. You’re worried, worried about going back to work without a full range of motion, worried about being in pain.
Worried about being even more permanently damaged than you already are.
Just another tally mark. Just another thing you must live with now, a permanent remnant of him, a forever reminder of just how foolish you really are.
You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re damaged.
The pain breaks you down. It prevents you from sleeping, keeps you twisting and turning through a roil of dark dreams. It depresses you, sinks its teeth into your flesh and gnaws on the pieces touched by the sun, the parts of your heart still beating, somehow.
It reminds you of everything you’re desperate to forget.
It all comes crashing down one morning. The despair. The helpless feeling brewing in your stomach. The loneliness. It keeps you there, in bed, in agony, past breakfast.
It keeps you there, until you hear the creak of the stairs, a firm knock.
“I’m coming in.” Simon advises, trying the door, cracking it enough to stick his head through.
You’re crumpled in the middle of the mattress, pillows strewn about from trying to find a comfortable position, tears already dried. Your shoulder hurts so bad, and you don’t know why, don’t know why it’s not getting better, not healing.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” He sits at your side, hand resting on your hip, inspecting the worry lines, the frown tugging at your lips. “What’s going on?” Guilt swamps you.
“It’s nothing, my shoulder just kept me up, so I’m a little tired. That’s all.” You paste on your work smile, forced and believable, but he only shakes his head.
“Don’t do that.” He thumbs your brow. “I think you should see a doctor.”
“N-no.” You can’t. He doesn’t understand. They’ll want to take x-rays. X-rays lead to questions.
He never takes you at face value. Always pushing. Always digging, looking you over. “Why not?”
“It’s… it’s not necessary. I’m fine, it’s probably just a deep bruise.”
“You’d be experiencing less pain if that was the case.” You raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. “I know a little bit. We all have basic medic training, and I’ve been reading up, for when Johnny gets home.” He pats your hip. “Let’s make you an appointment.” You shake your head.
“No!” It’s too sharp, too insistent, and he freezes. You wince. “I’m sorry. It’s just-“
“You can’t go to a doctor.” He finishes, like he knows. “Tell me why, sweetheart.” You take a shaky breath.
You can’t. You shouldn’t.
Sunlight taps against the iron that’s encrusted around your heart. It knocks, wanting to be let in. It searches for weakness, places of opportunity, slivers of space where it can find its way.
Your mouth starts moving before you give it permission, like it knows this is where you’re headed, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how deeply the survivor’s logic is ingrained in your brain.
“It… it’s not safe.”
“It creates a trail.” He surmises, and you nod. For a wild moment, you wonder if he’s a plant. If they’re a trap, designed to get you to lower your guard, fabricated to encourage you to trust, to love, just so the jaws of Philip’s cruelty can close around you at the most opportune moment.
They wouldn’t. They’re not. You’re being ridiculous. You’re paranoid.
“We’ll make it under my name. Our primary is service member focused, and very discreet. You’ll be safe.” He makes it hard to argue, even though you want to. You should.
“I- I don’t know.”
“I can’t stand to see you in pain like this.” He rebukes, and then smiles softly, eyes lighting up. “Besides, I’m going to need your help. Johnny’s coming home on Friday.”
“He is?” You push upward. “Really?”
“Really.” He’s beaming, radiant sunshine spilling from his lips, and it makes you emotional, seeing him so happy, so weightless. “He passed a strength test on his wrist this morning. He needs a few days of PT in hospital, and then he can do it outpatient. His care team has signed off, and he’s ready.”
“Oh my god, that’s great!”
“It is. But I want both of you on the mend, not just one. Please.” It doesn’t take much more for you to concede, unable to find an excuse or a good enough reason, one he’s not able to combat.
“Alright, I guess.”
“Simon. Good to see you.” The doctor extends his hand and Simon shakes it readily, keeping his body positioned between you and the physician, one hand still on your knee.
He’s had a hand on you for the last half hour. You’ve been rattling on the exam table, shifting and fretful, disquieted energy spilling forth since he coaxed you into the car this morning.
“Dr. Fitch.”
“This is my patient?” He motions to you, and Simon stands to the side, concentrating, eyes focused above the mask. You give your name, and the provider repeats it with a warm smile.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Fitch.” You raise your good arm to shake his hand, and he pulls the rolling stool underneath him, taking a seat opposite Simon at your knee.
A warm palm flexes at your lower back. It’s soothing, comforting.
I’m here, it says. You’re safe.
“Simon says you’ve been having some shoulder pain?”
“Yeah, I had… I had an injury. Thought there was some soft tissue damage, maybe some minor bruising, but the pain is too persistent.”
“Mind if I take a look?” He points to the side you’re clearly favoring.
“Sure.” It’s not comfortable, to have another man’s hands on you outside of your job. There’s no trust there, no familiarity like there is with Simon and Johnny, and your body knows it, practically vibrating as he walks his fingers up your scapula. Simon stays close, still with a hand at your back, watching intently.
Dr Fitch holds your elbow, and slowly lifts your arm until you’re telling him to stop, pins and needles radiating through your shoulder and up your neck.
“I think we need an x-ray so we can really see what’s going on.” Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm.
Fuck.
“I… I think I just need a sling, or an immobilizer for a few weeks. Give it some time to heal.” You try to protest, but he shakes his head.
“I can’t be sure of any of that, without an x-ray.” Oh god. You think you might throw up.
He’s right, though. You know he’s right. You know no good provider in their right mind would sign off on a treatment plan without knowing the extent of an injury. He’s not going to let you dictate what you need.
“Bun.” Simon murmurs, and you blow out a rough breath.
“Okay, fine.”
Dr. Fitch is grim when he reappears almost an hour later, throwing the films up for both you and Simon to see.
You spot what’s soured him immediately, and there’s a sharp intake of breath behind you, the tell-tale sign of Simon noticing it too.
“This side of your body has seen a lot of trauma.” The doctor says gently. He’s not unkind, but still clinical. The kind of provider you’d like you work with, you think. “These old injuries, your clavicle, acromion, even this break in your ulna, make your scapula a very delicate part of your body. I think an MRI would show a fair amount of cartilage damage in these areas.” He motions around your joint, and you close your eyes.
You can’t do this.
If Dr. Fitch sees your unease or panic, he pushes past it. “You have a rotator cuff tear. The good news is, it’s not surgical. I recommend physical therapy for injuries like these, along with activity modification and lots of rest. I want to do a corticosteroid injection for your pain as well. Today, if you’d like. You’ll need to rest your arm for twenty-four hours afterwards, make sure you’re not lifting anything or moving it…” He continues, but you lose track, lose focus, staring at the vinyl tile, weird grey and pink and green patterns all worked together to make some of the ugliest floor you’ve ever seen.
You zone out. Lose yourself. The films mock you, their ugly, horrific images hanging you out to dry, showcasing the truth, the reminders you’ll never be able to escape.
The pieces of you, changed permanently.
It’s hard to look at. Hard to think of.
You’d rather be considering survival. Counting your cash and researching new places to live. New communities to disappear inside, a new life to assume.
It’s easier to run.
You can’t look at Simon. Can't bear the shame. Can't believe he's seeing this, your nightmares on display.
You keep your eyes fixed on the wall.
The girl in the mirror is falling apart. She despises being confronted with your failings, your weakness, the results of your stupidity.
It’s far less common now, these mistakes. These slip ups.
But before… before… they indulged Philip in a beautiful game of cat and mouse. You made it fun, made it exciting. A wolf with his prey. Playing with his food before he eats. Before he strings it up and breaks its collarbone because he likes to hear it scream.
Simon is talking to the provider, asking questions, receiving answers. You can barely hear him. You’re underwater.
The only thing that tethers you to the earth is the hand on your back, the warm, gentle, broad, grounding pressure.
There’s more conversation, and then Dr. Fitch is vacating the room.
Is it time to go?
You try to stand on autopilot, but Simon holds you steady.
“We’re going to do the steroid, for your pain.” He drifts into your line of sight, pulling the mask down. “Bunny, look at me.”
When you can’t, he follows your gaze.
The films come off the wall within the next second, ripped down by the long reach of his arm.
Gone.
“I have to go.” You whisper.
“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to get this injection, and then I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”
He doesn’t understand your meaning.
Or maybe he does.
Home. The word rings in your ears like a punch. It’s like you’ve been hit with it, burned with it.
Home.
He’s not forceful, but you still feel the pressure, the insistence. You expect to rail against him. To cower.
Instead, you slip inside it. Allow him to tell you what to do, to make the decision. You fall easily into him, and he holds your hand through it all, while the injection site is swabbed, when the needle goes in. He holds your hand out to the car, holds your hand as he buckles you in. He holds your hand as he tucks you into a bed larger and softer than the one you've been sleeping in. It smells like him and Johnny, soft sheets and pillows piled around you like a wall, false sense of security building every time you twitch, testing where is he is, if he’s left yet.
The last thing you feel before you drift off to sleep is your hand, still in his.
You don't know how long you sleep. You sail in the darkness, navigating turbulent seas, waking every now and then, sometimes alone... sometimes not.
The baby monitor blinks pale green, little circle fuzzy on the edge of your vision, appearing and disappearing throughout the day.
Sometimes the bed is warm. Sometimes it's not.
When it is, you seek him out on instinct, trying to crawl inside his ribs, frantic with your effort to hide, to run. He holds you through it, rocks you gently, tells you you're safe, says you don't have to be afraid anymore, he's here now. He'll take care of you.
There's a rope around your ankle, tied too tight, tethered to the ocean floor. It drags you down, rips you away from him, fills your lungs and silences you.
You didn't make it.
All you can see behind closed lids is those films. All you can feel is the phantom ache in your limbs, the remnants of a shadow, still living and breathing inside of you.
The girl in the mirror is silent. Nothing to say for once in her life, she weeps like her chest is being carved open, sobs and screams pouring out in a flood.
I know you'll be here when I get back, won't you?
The house is vibrant today.
Lou has been here, stocking the fridge, precooking some meals, and her husband is helping Simon rearrange the living room, moving pieces of the couch to be more accessible, laughing back and forth quietly. Occasionally, he stops into the kitchen where you’re seated next to Pen in her highchair, checking in, but never encroaching.
He doesn’t get too close, right now. You’re still underwater somewhere, lost in a current. You’re here, but not really, silently drifting like a ghost, watching and waiting for something or someone to shake you out of it.
Simon hasn’t yet, but he’s watching. Always.
He’s intentionally careful, loud. Announcing himself everywhere he goes in the house, telling you everything he’s doing.
You didn’t understand why at first. Didn’t realize you hadn’t spoken in eight hours, and then ten, then twelve.
Trapped in a tomb of yourself, locked away with the girl in the mirror.
Guilt burns like a wildfire.
This should be a happy time. A wonderful time.
But all you’re doing is making a mess of their life.
Lou, thankfully, doesn’t push you either. She’s content to let you sit there, next to Pen. She keeps an eye out, glancing over at you occasionally, but your placating smiles seem to satisfy her.
Simon steps in front of the counter, ducking his head down to catch your eyes. “I’m going to pick Johnny up.” Somewhere, in the pits of hell, excitement blooms. Happiness tries to sprout. “Do you want to come?” Definitely not. They’ll certainly clap him out, and there’s no way you can be there for that.
“No, I’m… okay.”
“Okay. Penny is coming with me, but John and Lou are staying here. Kyle is coming by. If Johnny’s feeling up to it, I’m hoping to do dinner all together.” Acid is tossed around, tempestuous in your stomach. Lou smiles around his side.
“Want to watch something while we wait?”
“Sure.” She disappears down the hall, saying something to John, and Simon slowly pulls Pen from her chair, kissing her cheek and nose before cradling her to his chest. She’s not a small baby, but in his hold, she’s tiny, soft and delicate, content in her dad’s arms, still a little sleepy from her afternoon nap.
“We’ll be back soon.” He whispers, turning to go.
Your hand whips forward instinctively, out of control.
It latches onto his.
“Simon. I’m… I’m sorry.” You’re sorry you’re ruining everything. You’re sorry you’re fucked up beyond belief, you’re sorry he had to see all that in the doctor’s office, you’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry.
He squeezes. “Shhh, hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He shifts, still holding Penny, but stooping down to crouch at your knees, his own popping with effort. “It’s okay, if you have to go somewhere else for a little while up there, as long as you're not lost in it.” He motions to your head. “Nothing has changed. We’re still right here, everything is alright. Huh, Penny girl?” He bounces her, and she shrieks out a giggle, reaching for his face. He kisses her hands like he’s trying to eat them, rumble in his voice making her squeal, and he catches your faint smile. “There she is.” He kisses your forehead. “We’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
You hear Johnny before you see him.
There’s a scrape of crutches, his voice animated, talking to his baby, Penny giggling wildly outside on the walk. Lou and John exchange a comfortable smile, and she manages to get the door open before Simon can get his key in the lock.
“Welcome home!” She exclaims, and Penny squeaks, clapping excitedly. She’s wriggly, wanting to get down immediately upon crossing the threshold, but Simon holds her firm, turned around so Lou can snap their picture.
“Ach, Price, can ye do somethin’-“ Johnny laments, but the captain only laughs and looks on.
“Hey! Come on, you’ll want this, later. I promise. Look over here.” They’re picture perfect, Penny cradled between them, Johnny’s hair moved out of his face, his posture a little slouched because of his hip and leg. His head rests on Simon’s shoulder, an arm stretched across his middle, right under Penny, who glows from her perch, the center of attention.
An ache unfurls in the middle of your chest, a sore spot, growing, spreading through your body.
They’re so lovely, it hurts. This moment is beautiful, a homecoming, a story of survival and perseverance. Johnny’s strength and determination. Doing something you know a lot of people initially doubted.
The dark spot of pain passes, fleeting.
Johnny’s eyes find yours. “Ye goin’ make me hobble all the way over there?” He teases, and you shake your head.
The two of you can only give half hugs, but you make it work, holding onto him, fingers fisted in the back of his shirt.
“Welcome home.” You whisper in his ear, and he pulls away, notching his forehead against yours. His eyes glitter, heavy, trembling breath filtering through his nose, and he kisses you slowly, so painfully slowly it’s like you’re the only one in the entire house, in the whole world.
“You too, bunny.”
Dinner is lively. Kyle arrives shortly before it’s time to sit down, greetings and warm wishes passed around as everyone gets settled, Penny positioned in highchair between the guys with mashed potatoes and peas already scooped onto her tray. Johnny’s on your left, with Lou on your right, and Simon sits at the head of the table, across from who you realize now, is his old, or kind of still, boss.
He looks perfect there, half turned towards Pen and Johnny, radiantly smiling at his partner and daughter, trying again and again to catch your eye. Johnny's knee stays steady against yours, fingertips occasionally brushing your thigh, and the two of them try to draw you in, pull you towards them, over and over.
Conversation flows easily. They’re all talking, laughing, swapping stories, poking at one another. Kyle tells you about a time he fell out of a helicopter, and they all tease Johnny about nearly dying this time, or a different time, you can’t be too sure.
“Ye jus’ wish ye had the natural ability I do.” He sniffs, and Kyle chortles, struggling to swallow his food.
“I’d probably be dead, mate.”
“’Cause ye cannae handle it!” He retorts, and Simon laughs, causing Penny to giggle too, and then the entire table erupts in it, attention redirected, cooing at the adorable girl with mashed potatoes smeared on her face. Johnny and Simon fuss over her, a perfect family in unison.
There’s a whining, buzzing noise in the back of your head. It’s an off-key tenor, annoying and coarse, like the snag of rough skin texture against a soft sweater.
What are you doing here?
The world, this room, these people, spin and spiral around you. Talking, laughing, loving. Making connections with each other, feeling the warmth of love and friendship, of happiness.
The buzzing gets louder.
You’re vaguely in it now, still seated but not here, not anywhere. You’re drifting, falling away, slipping behind walls and layers, hiding.
The girl in the mirror approves.
What makes you think you have any right to be here? What makes you think you could ever possibly belong here? With them? With their friends? Their family?
You’re an intruder.
You’re risking their safety. You’re making a mistake.
Lou boasts a sharp laugh, and you nearly flinch.
You don’t belong here. You’re supposed to be alone. It was supposed to be okay, to be alone.
You’re selfish.
Simon reaches for Johnny’s hand, stretching across Penny’s spot, eyes heavy with love. There’s so much in his expression alone, dedication, devotion, borderline obsession bleeding through, and he holds Johnny like he’s holding his lifeline.
You’ll never be loved like that, known like that, cherished and protected… like that.
And why should you be?
You’re standing before you announce it, trying to hold yourself together. Both guys look to you, Simon’s expression changing from amusement and love to worry and concern, while Johnny mirrors it, and tries to grab your hand.
“Ye alright?”
“Bun?”
“I’m fine, just… uh. My stomach.” You lie, motioning away from the table, like it makes any sense. You excuse yourself quickly, apologizing, and practically run up the stairs.
The guest bathroom door locks, and you slide down against the tub, slumping over to rest your cheek on cold tile. “Fuck.” You whisper, rubbing at your cheeks. What is wrong with you?
You lay there long enough that your shoulder starts to hurt. Everything aches, your heart too, and wipe your cheeks over and over, trying to regain control of a sinking ship.
God, you really, really hope they aren’t mad you bailed.
The bed is your only option, your only salvation, and you sink into without fuss, burying yourself beneath a pile of blankets, hiding yourself away from the world.
At least when you sleep, you can’t think.
At least when you sleep, you can’t feel.
“Philip, please.”
“You made a fucking fool of me tonight.” He grips your upper arm so tight it feels like he’s cutting into your flesh, branding you, burning you down to the bone.
“No, I- I wasn’t trying to, I swear.”
“I think you were, spitfire. I think you wanted to see me sweat, didn’t you? Wanted to play a little game, huh?”
“No!” you’re crying, chest heaving with giant sobs, and his fist tightens in your hair, dragging you down to the ground. “No, Philip, stop. Stop!”
“Shut up.” You’re crawling on your knees, trying to keep pace, trying to stay in stride with him as he tugs, practically pulling you down the hallway to the bedroom.
Once he gets there, he jerks you upwards.
The hardwood floor is the next thing you see as your face crashes into it.
“S-stop.” You’re barely audible, buried in sobs. He mocks you.
“Stoooop, babe. Stop please.” Your arms cover your head, trying to protect your delicate bones there, your skull, your nose, your cheeks.
His foot rears back.
The world goes cold.
“NO!” you jerk your knees up to your chest, rolling away. “No! I’m pregnant!”
You think he’ll be happy. You think he’ll be pleased.
Instead, it’s raw, concentrated fury you see lining his face, lightning and thunder gathering in his eyes.
“You’re what?”
You come to trembling, coated in a cold sweat.
It’s okay. He’s not here. He’s not. You’re safe.
You clasp a hand over your mouth to ward off the volume of the sob, nausea rising until you’re almost gagging.
It’s okay.
You can do this. Get it together.
Time ticks away, but the agony of your memory, your nightmare, doesn’t fade. It settles in your bones like a sickness, infecting your mind and heart, keeping you from closing your eyes.
You can’t go back there. Not in real life. Not in your dreams. Not ever.
You would die before that happened.
Johnny and Simon sleep down the hall. You wonder if they’re wrapped up together, if Johnny is comfortable, if their room is cozy and homey, bed heavenly and full of love.
You could…
No.
The clock on your phone reads three in the morning. You feel like you haven’t slept at all, but every time you try to close your eyes, dread spreads, tenebrous and sticky, clinging to every synapse in your logical brain.
You eye the door.
You could…
Should you? Would they be mad? Would they welcome you? Would they even answer?
You don’t know how you convince yourself to do it, to drag your weak will down the hall and knock on their door, but you do. You’re a child the whole way, padding up to a parent’s room in the middle of the night, looking for salvation and sanctuary, desperate for comfort.
It takes almost no time after your timid little rap for the door to swing wide, Simon standing behind it, little lamp flicked on where Johnny is half sitting up, mostly still asleep, rubbing his eyes.
“Hi.” You whisper, distracted by Simon’s naked chest. He’s wearing sweatpants, but they’re slung low on his hips, soft tummy with wispy light brown hair peeking out above the drawstring. You think you’re staring, and you force a blink, trying to appear normal.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing, I just… I had a nightmare and…I… I can’t…” the rest doesn’t come out, laying heavy on your tongue, trying to organize itself so it doesn’t seem so intrusive, or weak.
He doesn’t make you feel bad. Or guilty. He doesn’t even ask, he just steps aside, motioning to bed, clicking the door shut behind him.
“Take the middle.” He whispers, and you crawl across the expanse, timidly smiling at Johnny, who’s still yawning. He’s got his bad leg and hip set up on a bunch of pillows, and the spot next to him is still warm.
“Hey pretty girl.”
“Hi.” He pats the empty space, shoving the blankets down to the best of his ability to let you get underneath them.
“Bad dream?” He drawls, slow and sleepy.
“Yeah.”
“C’mere.” He tries to tug you closer, but Simon scolds him softly.
“Johnny, easy. Your graft.” He turns, sliding, encouraging you to settle on your side, with him at your back. “There we go. That’s better, hm?” It is better. So much better. Warm and safe. Blocked in on either side by them, your hand resting on Johnny’s sternum, grounding yourself with the rise and fall of his breathing, Simon nestling you into his chest, heavy arm slung across your ribs to hold Johnny’s hand.
It's so nice, tucked between them like you belong there, things start to spiral a little bit, doubt and worry fueling a cycle of second guessing. You shift restlessly, and Simon rubs your hip, soothing whatever he senses amiss back to neutral, lips humming just above your ear. “Close your eyes, little bunny. We’re here. You’re safe.”
#peaches writes#simple math#ghoap x reader#ghost x reader x soap#ghost x soap x reader#simon riley#john mactavish#simon riley x reader#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghost x reader
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park jimin fic rec list (Ⅲ)
woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask 😊🖤
a- angst s- smut f- fluff
series
plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a
↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.
a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s
↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.
it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects
↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.
so it goes by @/dovechim f s
↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.
love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a
↳ A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?
the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a
↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.
FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk
↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.
after the applause by @foxymoxynoona
↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.
saved by @to-star-lake s a
rockstar au deep subjects read warnings
midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a
↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?
Easy. You forget about it.
heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s
↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well.
drifting by@hongcherry f a
↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.
growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a
↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.
tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg
↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.
stardust by @venusjeon f a
↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.
drift by @snackhobi f s
↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.
the deli diaries by @jimlingss f
↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.
best of me by @xotoosweet f a
↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.
the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a
↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.
strip by @yoonia f s a
↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?
falling by @/yoonia s a
↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?
wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a
↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type
baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a
↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.
love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)
↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?
our little family by @nightbts f a
↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary
one-shot 35
brand new eyes by @missgeniality s
↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.
waves by @shina913 s
↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.
failure to communicate by @gukslut s
↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU
physical by @ppersonna f s
↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.
good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s
↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?
ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a
↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.
100km/hour by @chateautae s
↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?
what it's like by @jimilter s
↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.
feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a
↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.
the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk
↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.
scream your panties by @opaljm s a
↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend’s delicious self between your legs.
first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a
↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.
antifreeze by @winetae s
↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute
what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s
idol au husband au marriage au
only you by @personasintro f s a
↳ you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad
sucker by @/personasintro s a
↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.
please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a
↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"
summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a
↳ childhood friends to lovers
neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a
↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?
serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3
↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.
the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s
↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.
Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a
↳ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.
blue blood by @joonbird s a
↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”
i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a
↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?
locked in love by @parkmuse f s a
↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.
peaches and cream by @snackhobi s
↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost.
reset by @/dovechim s
↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.
the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s
↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes.
Unconditionally by @kstopping s a
↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.
Instinct by @evangelene f a
↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.
eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a
↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”
foul play by @kimvtae f s a
↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.
lost and found by @/kimvtae s a
↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.
if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a
↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.
the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s
↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too.
hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a
↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?
↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library
#kiki's recs#moon's recs#kiki!fic!rec#jimin#park jimin#park jimin x reader#park jimin fic recs#jimin fanfic#jimin fanfiction#bts fanfction#jimin fluff#jimin angst#jimin smut#jimin x reader#jimin series#jimin oneshot#jimin:fluff#jimin:smut#jimin:angst#jimin:oneshot#jimin:series#favourites!pjm#jimin drabble#jimin bts#jimin fic#bts jimin#jimin fic recs
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He had a name before he was assigned to a battalion, even though everyone called him Shiny until he proved himself in battle. Though once he did earn the right, he decided to stick with the name given to him by the other cadets.
“I’m called Two Tone,” he told his Captain, who raised an eyebrow. To the silent question, he shrugged. “No one told me why.”
And that was the truth. He wasn’t inclined to whistle or sing. He got the name long before he reached the age of his voice cracking in forced puberty. Just one day in class, one of his batchmates laughed and called him Two Tone, and it stuck.
Somehow, he never figured out why he was called that until after a joint battle with General Unduli and General Kenobi, fighting to take back a planet from the Separatists, at the request of the local government. Everyone was giving him weird looks ever since he had painted his armor, and he just told himself it was probably because of the design. He always had problems getting it correct on his armor, and he didn’t want to ask someone for help, so he was stuck with his own quality.
Cleaning up after the fight was normal, trudging around the battlefield to find any fallen comrades and equipment, seeing the medic if hurt, packing things away again. Two Tone thought it was weird when he didn’t bump into anyone from the 212th, but figured it was because they might have been on the other side of the battlefield. He did his best sticking to his brothers as things began to get loaded into the LAAT/is, tired and quiet as he road the drop ship up to the Venator.
He assisted with unloading things, feeling the ship shudder faintly as it transitioned into hyperspace, though his movements came to a halt as he saw General Kenobi walking by the area. Frowning, he turned to the Clone beside him.
“Why isn’t General Kenobi with the 212th?”
The Clone frowned at him. “This is the 212th…”
Two Tone prided himself on being levelheaded, so when he started to panic so hard that General Kenobi came to an abrupt stop and looked at him, he was proud that he didn’t run away or collapse or simply imploded.
“Are you all right, dear one?” General Kenobi asked and a part of Two Tone’s mind was amused to learn that the rumors were correct about the endearing terms the man used.
“I apologize, sir,” Two Tone managed to squeak out. “But… I was assigned to General Unduli… I’m on the wrong ship.”
General Kenobi’s head tilted to the side curiously, glancing over Two Tone’s armor.
“Have you been tested for colorblindness?” the General asked curiously.
***
“Deuteranopia colorblindness,” Obi-Wan said, giving Luminara a faint smile. “The poor man was so embarrassed. Evac tested him and decided to do a ship wide test. Apparently colorblindness isn’t too uncommon among the Clones.”
The holo of the Jedi Master shook her head, a fond sigh escaping her. “When he painted his armor orange and green, I thought he was living up to his name. I am glad to hear that we hadn’t lost him in battle.”
“No, just temporarily misplaced,” Obi-Wan said with a chuckle.
“Joint custody then, until you can return him to me?”
“Well keep him safe, I promise you.”
#star wars#star wars fanfiction#obi wan kenobi#the clone wars#Star Wars clone wars#Clone Wars OC#Clone wars fanfiction#clone wars fluff#Star Wars fluff#SkybreakPrime#SkybreakPrimeonAO3#luminara unduli
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Bedside Manner
Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.
Word Count: 2,587
Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell
CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures
A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!
"Dear? Everything okay?"
The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.
"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.
This could not be happening.
"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.
"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.
"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"
"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.
______________________________________________________________
The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.
"It's open!"
Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.
"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"
"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."
"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.
"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.
"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."
"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.
"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.
"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."
"Where are we at?"
"Thirteen minutes, sir."
The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.
"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"
"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.
"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "
"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."
"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.
"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."
The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.
"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."
You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."
The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."
______________________________________________________________
Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.
"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"
"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"
Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.
"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"
Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.
______________________________________________________________
True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.
The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.
You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.
Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.
______________________________________________________________
"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:
"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."
"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.
"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.
"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."
"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."
"What? How do you know?"
"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."
The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.
"Left? That takes us the wrong way-"
"How do you know where we're at?"
"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"
Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.
______________________________________________________________
"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.
Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.
"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.
"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"
"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.
One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could.
The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-”
Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.
“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."
Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.
______________________________________________________________
You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.
“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.
“Thank God for that,” he replied.
“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”
“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.
“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”
“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”
On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”
“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”
You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.
#cod ghost#cod ghost fanfic#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fanfic#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#mwii ghost#task force 141#john price#soap mactavish#gaz garrick#kate laswell#mwii fanfic
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Domestic Bliss
characters: diluc, wanderer, childe
content: sfw, modern au, established relationship, fluff !!
a/n: i was scouring pinterest looking the most fitting inspo rooms for each of them hehe
Diluc
Your shared home is an old-fashioned but charming house with a tiled roof and a brick archway leading to the entrance of the door. Diluc has a good eye for style — all the furniture pieces you select together are warm and elegant, perfectly matching with the vintage style home.
He’s a bit of a craftsman, and when you moved in he custom built bookshelves just for you. Your house has traces of Diluc’s handiwork: a wooden tissue box cover, tile coasters, a ceramic chess set.
Being a peak acts of service man, if he notices that there’s something inconveniencing you that can be mended, he’ll try to find a way to fix it. That wooden chair that wobbled yesterday when you sat down on it? The next day, it’s miraculously levelled. Always struggling to find your keys before you leave the house? There are now little hooks on the wall where you can easily hang them. He doesn’t make a huge show of it, but you’ll always kiss him on the cheek and say that you should repay him with something.
“There’s no need. Seeing you happy is more than enough for me.” He replies, running a hand through his hair, the tips of his ears turning red.
The house is IMPECCABLY cleaned — the chores are shared out between the two of you, and the both of you work like a well-oiled machine. He’ll insist that you shouldn’t carry anything too heavy though! He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself :(
One of the things that Diluc wouldn’t ever trade is getting the chance to cuddle with you in the evening on the couch. He’ll let you play with his hair and try out different styles, comforted by the feeling of your fingers running through it.
Sometimes, he’ll come home late from work tired and perhaps a bit grumpy, but the sight of you will change his mood completely.
At the sound of jangling keys and the front door creaking shut, you rush out of the bathroom and down the stairs.
“(Y/N), I’m home!” You hear Diluc’s voice call out to you.
The day had felt far too long for him, and with far too many headaches for him to deal with. The only thing that he looked forward to at the end of it all was to see you again.
Hearing the patter of your slippers, he looks up. It takes everything within him to keep composed at your appearance. Having just gotten out of a hot shower, your cheeks were tinted pink, hair still damp and slicked. Diluc’s eyes trailed to your clothes, a matching pair of flannel shirt and shorts. He loosens his tie, suddenly finding his breath stuck in his throat. It baffled him how gorgeous you were even in pyjamas.
Wordlessly, he reaches towards you. You look down at his hands and see as they fasten the remaining top two buttons of your sleeping shirt. In your hurry to greet him at the door, you forgot to dress properly.
“I can’t believe I missed that...” You sheepishly say, observing his hands as they linger on your shirt. Your senses told you something was off. “Did you have troubles at work today?”
The worry in your eyes melts his heart. Of course you were the one to peer through him and know exactly how he was feeling.
“A few clientele at the bar today were-” He sighs, still fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt, recalling the events of the day, “-difficult to manage to say the least.” He lifts his head to meet his gaze. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”
Your arms instinctually wrap around him and he collapses into them. Tightening your embrace, he rests his head on your shoulder.
“Diluc, I just took a shower.” You say with a light giggle, trying to pull your hair away from his face.
He feels your breath close to his ear and he wishes he could have recorded that laugh for himself to hear it over and over again.
“I could tell.” He breathes deeply. “Is this a new shampoo?”
“Well yes, but what I meant from that is that my hair is still wet!”
You feel him smile against you. “It doesn’t bother me. Just a few more seconds, please. I need to recharge.”
Wanderer
You share an apartment together since you travel to and from the same university. Although you’re studying different degrees and have different schedules, you’ll both make an effort to spend time together at home during the weekdays.
You and Wanderer leave little notes cheering each other on and stick them to the walls or the fridge before you leave, or sneak them into pencil cases or onto laptop screens. He has a small box on his desk where he collects all your notes, neatly folding them up to preserve them.
Wanderer enjoys having the home quite minimalist. Just the essentials will do, but the two of you do splurge a bit more on your study space — the comfiest chairs, wide desks, tactile keyboards — anything to liven up having to do assignments all the time.
When you’re feeling too tired or distracted from your own studies, you’ll walk over to his desk and try to sit on his lap while he works. He’ll attempt to exert some self-control and reject your wishes, but eventually gives in after seeing your pout.
“Just because you’re distracted doesn’t give you any right to bother me.” He grumbles, resting his chin on your head.
He warns you that if you do decide to put plants in the house, you are responsible for them. Little do you know that he’s secretly also invested in their health. On mornings when you’re in a rush and forget to water them, he’ll spritz them with your spray bottle thinking to himself: If you died (Y/N) would be devastated, so don’t even think about it.
His favourite room is the bedroom. It’s a place for both of you to escape the stresses of being a student and relax together.
The alarm clock beeps and you wiggle in bed, reaching over a hand to quickly silence it. Bright sun filters in through the curtains, its light diffusing into the room.
You force your eyes open and sit up, your body bent over like a crooked branch. Movement beside you pulls your attention as Wanderer shifts in his sleep. You can’t deny how pretty he looks even at rest. His long lashes fanned out under closed eyes, the steady rise and fall of his chest with each deep breath. His expression is that of pure peace. You know that’ll soon disappear when you both need to properly wake up and prepare for classes.
“Hey, it’s time to wake up,” you whisper, carefully coaxing him from slumber.
Wanderer opens his bleary eyes ever so slightly, then immediately closes them. He mumbles something of refusal. You roll your eyes in resignation. When it comes to sleep, he acts like a child sometimes. You turn to get out of bed.
Two arms wrap around your waist and yank you back. You stumble into the sheets with a yelp. Wanderer adjusts the blanket over you and pulls you closer to him with one hand.
“Not yet.” His voice is low and scratchy, his words slurred. “Want more time in bed… with you.”
You sigh softly, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair to detangle it. “You do this almost every morning. You’re never going to attend your lectures on time.”
He replies by nuzzling into your neck, and you hear nothing but his slow breaths. His peers would have sooner called identity fraud than believe the stony and scholarly Wanderer to be this clingy and affectionate in the morning. However, in the privacy of just you, it’s become easy for him to let down his guard.
“Don’t try to get out of this by pretending to be asleep.” You say, deadpan.
There’s a stutter in his breathing as you catch his obvious charade.
“Stop worrying. I’ll just watch the recording.” He finally responds.
You realise in a fluster just how close your faces are, barely inches apart. As if sensing this, Wanderer opens his eyes once again, this time there’s a glint of mischief in them.
He taps his forehead lightly against your own. “And besides, why would I want to spend my mornings in a noisy lecture hall when I can be with you in peace and quiet?”
Childe
You’ve been living together for a while now, and your home has transformed into what can only be described as organised chaos.
If Childe kept up with his interior designing eagerness, it would have been complete maximalism, but you were there to contain his excitement and still ensure your home was still practical.
The two of you love collecting pillows, plushies and blankets, which adds even more to the cosiness! However, one day you tried to sit down on the couch and realised it was more pillows than actual seat space. In a fit of laughter, you and Childe ruled that you would rotate between different cushions every so often so you could get your couch back.
Childe will still come home with flowers or sweets (sometimes both) as gifts for you on random nights. He’ll stand on the doorstep looking like a lovesick teenage boy asking his crush out on a date. Taking them from his hands, you’ll ask what the occasion is.
“Well, there isn’t a particular occasion.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Celebrating you should be an everyday thing.”
Board game nights are taken very seriously. You have a bookshelf filled with different types of them. Whether it’s a classic game of UNO or Jenga, or something a little more strategic, he's always hyper-competitive. You also have special punishments for if one of you loses, which are harmless but maybe a little embarrassing (One of his favourite punishments for you is ‘For the entire day tomorrow, Childe will only call (Y/N) by the cheesiest pet names’).
MASSIVE kitchen since he loves to cook. He keeps a book of recipes from his mum and has since added new ones of his own that he has shared with you.
“Could you come over here, baby?”
You follow your partner’s voice and the scent of something freshly baked into the kitchen.
Childe is standing behind the counter, his face in deep focus. He takes one of an array of heart-shaped biscuits and dips half of it in a bowl of chocolate before placing it on a lined baking sheet. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up, exposing his forearms. His muscular build is sharply juxtaposed by the cream-coloured apron tied around himself, which has a little teddy bear embroidered in its centre.
You approach the kitchen bench, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are they ready yet? Can I try one?” You eagerly ask.
“Not quite, I need help dipping the rest of these into chocolate.” He stretches his arms out in front of him, shaking the tension out of them.
“That being said,” he grins, extending a hand towards you across the kitchen bench as an offer, “would you do me the honour of being my baking assistant for a little?”
Chuckling at his dramatics, you delicately place your hand in his like royalty. “I’d be delighted to help.”
Childe guides you to his side and helps you put on your apron. As he ties the strings together, he relays the instructions to you.
“You just need to dip half of the biscuit into chocolate, and then add some sprinkles on top before it sets.” He tightens the bow around your waist to secure it.
How hard could that be? You think, nodding along to his words.
Demoing an example, Childe deftly coats half of the biscuit. Angling it just right, the chocolate drips off and evens itself out, leaving a perfect covered half. After placing it on the tray and adding the finishing touch of sprinkles, he gestures for you to try it yourself.
You confidently take one biscuit and dunk it.
“Ah!”
Underestimating its consistency, when you lift the biscuit, the chocolate slowly spreads onto the other half of the heart and drips onto your fingers. You quickly place it onto the baking sheet. Childe stifles his laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
“My one looks so much worse compared to yours…” you mutter, licking your fingers to remove the evidence of your unsuccessful attempt.
Seeing the frown on your face, he gently bumps your shoulder with his own in encouragement. “Don’t say that! I think your one has a lot more charm.” He says, adding the sprinkles onto your heart. “I’ll run some extra baking classes with you to build up your skills, how does that sound?”
#the domestic trope will always be so dear to me <3#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin x you#genshin headcanons#genshin impact diluc#genshin diluc#genshin diluc x reader#diluc x reader#diluc x you#diluc x y/n#genshin impact wanderer#genshin wanderer#genshin wanderer x reader#wanderer x reader#wanderer x you#wanderer x y/n#genshin impact childe#genshin impact tartaglia#genshin childe#genshin childe x reader#childe x reader#childe x you#childe x y/n#genshin modern au#✏️〰odorawrites
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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part two.
INSTAGRAM.
liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and 17,349 others
tagged: logansargeant
yourusername from a little boy meeting his heroes to a young man racing alongside them, getting to see all you’ve accomplished throughout the years makes me the proudest sister in the world. 2024 better watch its back, because sargeants always come back swinging.
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logansargeant we pack a mean punch too 👊
↳ yourusername the meanest 👊
user wait no cuz this is actually so cute omg??? i want a sister to make cute posts about me
user definitely can’t wait to see more y/n at the races in 2024
williamsracing It was lovely having you in the paddock this season Y/N! We’re already looking forward to seeing what 2024 has in store!
↳ yourusername it was a genuine honor to be there! plus i look great in blue 😉💙
↳ user wait does this mean logan is re-signing??
alex_albon me and lily would love to have you both come round during the break if schedules align!
↳ yourusername awwww alex!! speaking on behalf of logan, we’d love to!!
user i’m living vicariously through the sibling bond that the sargeant twins have
INSTAGRAM.
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 426,972
tagged: oscarpiastri
mclaren Some of our favourite meme-worthy images of Oscar from 2023! Which is your fav?
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oscarpiastri guys…
user mclaren admin knows what the people want
↳ user mclaren admin feeding us well on this fine day
user these are actually so funny omg mans ain’t got no face filter
landonorris yea so this won’t be necessary for me pls and thx
↳ mclaren We already have the pictures ready! 👍
user i’ve made all of these faces at my tv this year
yourusername oh to be a rubber ducky in oscar piastri’s ice bath
↳ user OH? MY?? GOD???
↳ user UMMMM
↳ user real
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 835,781 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
landonorris papaya pals! looking forward to another season with you mate
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user going into cardiac arrest
user damn oscar looking caked up
↳ user i’m glad i wasn’t the only one thinking it
oscarpiastri of all the pictures
↳ landonorris i giveth thy people what they want
↳ yourusername and we thank you for it sir lando 🫡
user MANIFESTING MORE PODIUMS FOR 2024
mclaren Looking forward to another year, boys! 🧡
danielricciardo you’re only posting these to show off your ass
↳ landonorris and if i am?
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yourusername i can still recall our last summer
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logansargeant it’s december 1st???
↳ yourusername it’s summer somewhere
user i wish i lived in florida
user MAMMA MIA REFERENCE
oscarpiastri ☀️
↳ yourusername 🌊
user i’m so delulu about what this could mean
↳ user it’s probably just an aesthetic caption?? y’all are fr crazy
↳ user no cuz it’s literally winter rn in the states so why would she post about summer?
↳ user bc she lives in florida?? where the weather is like summer all the time??
You lower your phone and look back to the dark waters crashing against the shore. Logan’s time in Formula 1 has meant you’ve been traveling around the world, getting to experience so much more than you’d ever imagined you would in your lifetime, but nothing compares to the familiarity and comfort of Florida— of home.
And your friends.
“So,” Sophia bumps her shoulder against yours, eyes alight with mischief when you turn to meet her expectant gaze. “Come on,” she teases, “tell me about him.”
You’ve been friends with her for a few years now, ever since moving back to the United States. She was born and partially raised in Belgium, so after spending so long in Europe, she’s the only one who understood the minor culture shock of moving back. You both clicked, and you’ve been stuck together ever since. You’ve learned, however, that if there’s one constant about her, it’s without a doubt her need to gossip about anything and everything— but specifically boys.
You huff out a laugh, “There’s no ‘he’ to tell you about.”
She hums into her glass of wine, eyeing you skeptically.
“There isn’t!” You laugh, shoving her lightly.
She gasps and feigns falling back onto the blanket spread out beneath you. She’s dramatic, too, and that’s another reason you matched so well. She feels like the sister you never had, which makes moments like this feel even more special.
“This back and forth with a certain OP-eighty-one suggests otherwise,” she sing-songs back at you as she sits up, making kissing faces and cackling when you shove at her again.
“I’m not sure how you even know about that,” you grumble. “You don’t even use Instagram.”
“Maybe not, babes,” she casts her gaze out across the ocean, “but I have my sources. So come on, between us girls and us girls only, tell me what’s going on.”
You heave a sigh, gulp down the last mouthful of wine in your glass, and then pour yourself another while she waits. You’re not getting out of this, and part of you does really want to talk about things. On top of being your brother and therefore way more protective than he needs to be, Logan is also Oscar’s best friend and you’re not sure what “bro code” is exactly, but you imagine not dating your friend’s sister is part of it— so he’s out of the question. You’d go to Dalton if you were sure he wouldn’t tell Logan, but they’re loyal to each other and have some sort of unspoken pact when it comes to your love life. You joked once that instead of your dad, it’d be them waiting at the door with a shotgun if you ever brought a guy home, but you’re not sure it was a joke at all with how they act sometimes.
“It started in Bahrain,” you begin, rolling your eyes when she wiggles excitedly and turns her undivided attention to you. “I’ve known him for a while because he and Logan have driven together since they were young, so I messaged him after the race to say that it sucked he had to retire so early into it.”
“And?”
You shoot her a look. “And, we kept talking. One thing led to another and we met up for drinks…” You fiddle with the rim of your glass, glancing back out to the water. You can’t tell if the heat on your face is because you’re embarrassed, or from spending so much of your day under the Floridian sun. “That’s it.”
“That’s it?” She asks incredulously.
“Well—” you purse your lips. “We kissed. Once. When he dropped me off at the hotel. But it was probably just the alcohol or something. I don’t think he wanted it to mean anything. I bet he just wanted to have fun but couldn’t because he had to leave early in the morning.”
She sends you a look. “He was sober enough to drive you back… but you think it was alcohol influencing his decisions? And he kissed you, even knowing he wouldn’t be able to ‘have fun?’ Right. Didn’t mean anything at all.”
You shake your head and huff. “He was upset because he’d had such high hopes for his first Grand Prix and it ended poorly, and I was there to comfort him, so maybe that’s why. He got caught up in the moment, or something.”
“Y/N, I love you. I do. You’re my best friend and you’re like a little sister to me,” she cups your face in her hands and turns you to look at her. “But you can be so dense sometimes, do you know that?”
“Then why hasn’t he brought it up?” You ask, your voice garbled slightly from the way her hands squish your cheeks together. “We saw each other again in Melbourne, to celebrate him getting his first points, and he didn’t say anything then. Or Miami, or England, or Japan.”
She gives you another look and lets your face go. “It’s a two-way street, babe. Why haven’t you brought it up?”
And… that’s a good point. You technically could’ve brought it up, too. You’d just been so afraid of how he would’ve reacted that you’d chosen to keep quiet, preferring uncertainty over rejection. It’s the same reason why you so rarely pursue the things you want. A fear of rejection stands in your way, and you realize suddenly that you could’ve ruined things with someone you genuinely like just because you were afraid.
“You know, like, Schrodinger’s cat," you start meekly. "If you don’t open the box, the cat is dead and alive, because you don’t know. So I never brought it up. Because not knowing is better than him telling me it was nothing.”
She reaches out and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side. When she speaks again, her voice is calmer, less accusatory, a murmur against the ambiance of the hissing tide— “But what if he tells you it’s something?”
You groan. “He probably thinks I’m not interested.”
“Y/N—”
“Oh God!” You pull away and bury your face into your hands. “I ruined it all!”
She pries your hands away and looks you in the eye. There’s a sparkle in her gaze, it’s the look she gets when she has a plan.
“You haven’t ruined it. We just have some work to do.”
━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis
━━ a/n: i am overwhelmed by the amount of love on the first part of this! genuinely did not anticipate it at all, and i'm so thankful. so here's the second part! i hope it does justice to the first!
#formula 1#formula one#f1#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri imagine#social media au#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#logan sargeant#alex albon#lando norris
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The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.
Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader
Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.
Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience
Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog
A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!
As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.
Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread
Word Count: 3.5k
~
Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.
“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”
“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”
“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”
“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”
“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”
She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”
“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”
“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”
Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.
-
“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.
“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”
“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”
With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.
“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.
“What was that, hun?”
“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.
“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.
“God, yes.“
-
You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.
It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.
JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.
He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.
Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.
Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.
-
“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”
You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”
“Will do.”
She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.
“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.
“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.
“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”
“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.
“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”
“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”
You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”
“That’s it? Damn.”
“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.
“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”
“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.
As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.
JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”
“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.
-
You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.
Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.
You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.
You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.
“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”
“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”
“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”
He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.
“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.
“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.
“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.
“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”
You don’t answer.
“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.
You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.
“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”
“What on earth does that mean?”
You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.
“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”
“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”
“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”
JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”
“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.
“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.
‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.
“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”
JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.
“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.
You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”
“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.
“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”
The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.
“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”
“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”
“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”
JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.
“I love you, too. Always.”
With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.
-
You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.
If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.
The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.
Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”
You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.
Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”
“No. But I have to be.”
It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.
You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.
You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.
Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.
“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”
Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.
“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.
“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”
JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.
“What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you, talk to you.”
You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”
“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”
“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”
“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.
You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”
“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.
“JJ…”
“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”
“I don’t want a life like this.”
“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”
You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”
“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”
You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.
“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.
“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”
You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.
You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.
Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue
Y/N Y/L/N
You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.
“Ready to get off this island?”
You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”
-
JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.
You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.
Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.
She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”
JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.
“Daddy!”
“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.
“The princess and the pogue!”
JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.
“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.
“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”
“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.
You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.
“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.
“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”
You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”
~
Writing Masterlist
#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank fic#jj maybank angst#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank x y/n#obx x reader#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx#outer banks#outer banks x reader#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks fic#stars writes#starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies
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Hi!!! I love your Get Off My Screen series so much! I was wondering if I could do a request for that?
Basically the idea is that Vox and the reader are just texting at night maybe and he lets something slip about something he misses from his old life on earth and because of that the reader remembers that the person they’ve been talking to for like over a year by now probably used to be alive and just spends the whole night learning everything they can about vox when he was alive (I imagine this would happen whilst vox was asleep and we’re just googling him) and then maybe I feel like we’d also google Alastor as a joke to see what all the fuss is about and then we find out that the person vox is ~~crushing~~ hating on is a serial killer and then just telling everything we learned when he wakes up.
Sorry if that’s really long I just fell like this is 100% what I would do in this situation
Old Times Gone By
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: I'm so glad you guys are requesting scenarios within the series, heck- I'm glad y'all enjoy it this much already hahaha! This is somewhat of an aftermath to the "You Could Do Better(With Me)" which is why it's not as cheery as the other chapters- but it's definitely not straight up angst. Just vulnerability and late night chatting between friends. Haha "friends"- And as always, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and happy reading!
A/N: Again, I kind of deviated from the prompt a little to better fit the narrative but Reader does know about Alastor and who he is because of Vox's ranting. They're aware that her demonic crush has a weird obsession with a cannibalistic radio serial killer deer dude and it's still not the weirdest thing he's done so far HAHAHAHA
If there was one thing Vox had to say he hated about drinking-
It had to be dealing with the hellish hangovers come morning.
Especially when he'd been wasted the night before.
A sharp jab in his side caused him to wake up this time.
He grunted, nearly falling off his chair when he shifted ever so slightly.
Huh-
Wait, why was he in here???
He could feel the migraine start to pound in his head.
Vox wasn't looking forward to today already.
When he tried to stand up, a clink of a bottle made him look down by his feet.
Picking it up to give the darn thing a once over, he scoffed.
He must have been absolutely hammered to have finished this yesterday.
It was a brand he despised the taste of too.
"Vox-? Oh, you're up."
His head whipped around so quickly once he heard your voice.
When had he even connected to your TV?
Not that he complained, he managed to see you sat up on the couch and stretching.
Your hair stuck up in odd positions and you even looked to be half-awake.
Why was that fucking cute???
"I- mhm. I guess I am. Was I... drinking yesterday?"
"I don't really know, I just knew you were drunk out of your mind last night. I can only see your face remember?"
"Ah... right."
Vox couldn't really bring himself to say much this time, not while he was still trying to grab the bits and pieces of his memory on yesterday's events.
Did he really wander into the monitor room just because he missed you?
That was low, even for him.
"Good morning anyhow, not that I think it would be if you're dealing with a hangover."
Vox just chuckled, watching you get up and disappear from the TV's view.
He wasn't in any mood to work at all, especially when he had a shitty headache to deal with too.
Eh, his empire could last a day without him.
He notified his secretary to just cancel all his duties and appointments for today, just ignoring their panic as you returned back into view.
"What are you holding?"
"Coffee."
"I thought you said you hated coffee?"
"Not hate, I just don't prefer it. But I need the caffeine to function today and I'd rather drink this bean juice than those energy drinks."
Vox wouldn't admit it, but talking to you again was already starting to make him feel a little better.
Especially after your noticeable absence.
He'd rather die again that outright say he missed you, his pride wouldn't allow it.
Cracking his joints, he just watched you sleepily stare up at him from where you sat on the couch.
Granted, it was probably because your TV was probably perched higher or on a shelf.
But Vox still thought you were kind of short.
Not that he had the right to say anything-
He was a 7ft tall giant compared to you.
"Again with the bean juice thing, and what's wrong with energy drinks?"
"They taste like straight up chemicals."
Vox just gave you a weird look when you rolled your eyes at him.
Still you just kept talking to him inbetween taking sips of your hot beverage.
"I'm not surprised you enjoy them, but your palate is probably shit."
"Oh you do not wanna go there-"
"What if I do huh? Watcha gonna do about it?"
Vox just grinned, you getting up to move closer to the screen as you challenged him.
The wide mischievous grin on your face mirrored his own and you both quickly devolved into just either bragging about exotic foods you've eaten-
Or straight up going for the jugular about each other.
"You eat McDonald's daily? I can't believe you'd feed yourself garbage Vox-"
"It's not garbage, and don't act like you've never eaten fast food."
"You are what you eat, I guess!"
"Ohoho! You bitch!"
Vox didn't seem to mind the numbing headache he felt when you were back to being your animated rambunctious self.
He wondered if it was because of the caffeine that made you all hyped up but he couldn't really bring himself to give a shit.
Not when he was still pretty tired.
It seems you noticed his retorts weren't making their usual mark though, and you crossed your arms over your chest while leaning towards the TV screen.
Vox just narrowed his eyes at you in confusion, what were you doing?
"You my good sir, need a hot cup of coffee more than I do. And freshen up while you're at it, I need to go take a shower too anyways."
You-
You did not just do what he think you did.
Were you actually mothering him??
Vox just rolled his eyes at your words, not really intending to go until he realized you weren't budging an inch either.
"Didn't you just say you needed to go clean up?"
"Not leaving till you are."
"Stubborn much?"
"Not that different from you, no."
The tech overlord laughed at your insistence, eventually relenting and disconnecting himself from your devices.
He stretched again when he got up from his chair, picking up the empty alcohol bottle near his feet not intending to clutter up or dirty his workspace.
Vox perked up when his phone buzzed though.
The darn thing catching his attention before he forgot it was there.
He checked on it with his free hand, chuckling when he realized it was just a message from you.
"Go and freshen yourself up, get a cup of coffee too while you're at it. I'll be back soon, kisses!"
You almost caused him to break his phone from the grip he had on it.
Kisses???
What the fuck was that supposed to mean?!
Vox seriously stood there staring at his phone for a good ten minutes just buffering and rebooting-
Dude is actually broken the second you do literally anything with vaguely romantic undertones.
Still he stomps all over his own hopes and feelings in fear of misinterpreting your friendliness.
Yeah, both of you were fucking clueless.
You stayed true to your word and did eventually come back after you'd cleaned yourself up.
Vox had just been waiting on your TV again and the screen brightened slightly upon noticing you.
It was a subconscious reaction, don't bring it up or he'll definitely throw a hissy fit.
So that's what you both did the whole day, talking and just catching up.
While Vox did mention you skipped classes for the day, you just shot back that he threw his work to the backburner as well.
Not that he bothered to refute it, instead just moving on with the conversation like normal.
Hours passed and time flew.
Before you knew it, the both of you were talking well into the evening.
"And that's kind of the reason why I think spaghetti is superior to penne."
"Doll, they're straight up just different kinds of pasta."
"The fact there's different kinds of pasta mean that people clearly can't decide on a superior noodle shape."
Yeaaah... your conversations kind of stopped making sense an hour ago.
Not that either of you minded, even laughing about some stupid thing way into the AM.
"So like- he thought he was really some hot shit taking on the leader of the exorcists but he got his ass absolutely handed to him!"
"Bro almost got turned into demonic venison HAHAHAHA!"
Though of course, late night conversations always went deeper than those normally held within the day.
"Say... Vox?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you miss being alive? With, ya know- talking to me and all."
Vox paused slightly, it's been a long time since he reminisced of his living days.
When was the last time he even did?
"Not necessarily, I miss some things but not a whole lot."
"Like what? When did you die???"
"Hm... I don't remember the exact date, but sometime in the fifties?"
Vox recoiled when you just gawked at his screen, why did you react like that?
"Holy shit! You're fucking ancient!"
"Haha... very funny doll, I'm not that old! I died in my thirties."
"Ehhhh? You're not much older than I am then. How??"
"Don't remember, it was a long long time ago."
You made a weird face at him, to which Vox just smiled and chuckled.
It was the same expression you wore when trying to figure things out.
As... weird and cute as it may be.
Then you suddenly yawned, causing the tech overlord to consequently do the same.
Something you poked fun at him for since when did TVs yawn apparently.
Rolling his eyes, Vox took a glance at his internal clock.
It was four in the morning?!
How long had you both been talking????
"Vox? You good?"
Apparently his bewilderment was evident on the screen, so he just switched his attention back to you.
Vox's screen glitched slightly when he was caught off guard by how close you got to the TV.
Almost all up in his face even.
"Y-Yeah, just zZst- fine. Say... Doll, do you know what time it is?"
"Uhhhh- no, not really- why?"
"It's four in the morning."
"And?"
"You need to sleep?"
You rolled your eyes and turned your back to the TV, plopping down on the couch with a pout.
"Hey."
You ignored him.
"Heeeeeey-"
Vox couldn't help but chortle from your antics, you really seemed like a grumpy child right now.
"Look dollface, I don't want the fun to end either but we've still got tomorrow."
"I don't wanna say goodnight. You're just going to disconnect when I do."
"What, you can't expect me to fall asleep hooked up to all your stuff again can you? My chair isn't the most comfortable place to fall asleep."
"Still!"
Vox rubbed his face with a sigh, he felt the inexplicable urge to just pinch your cheeks.
He would if he could but he didn't exactly have hands as a TV.
Why did you have to be so cute?
"How about this? I'll stick around until you pass out. You won't even notice I'm gone come morning."
"Fineeeeeee."
It didn't take too long for you to fall asleep on the couch.
Similarly to yesterday, you were just haphazardly sprawled across the furniture with a thin blanket to cover you.
Despite his words, Vox still stuck around for a while to make sure you were asleep.
You looked so serene while you rested, like you didn't have any worries.
The overlord let out a tired sigh, he'll just stick around for another five minutes.
Just a little longer in this peaceful moment with you.
Vox totally fell asleep in his chair again, he woke up that morning in an awkward position feeling more sore than ever too.
"Oh for fuck's sake-"
"MORNING VOXYYY!!!"
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin vox x reader#vox x you#Get Off My Screen Series
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bye bye baby ☆ dr3
genre: angst
word count: 2.5k
inspired by this !
cherry here!... the req was to write about danny boy, but the concept of this was that i was feeling very dramatic, per usual, duh. wrote this today since i’ve had bye bye baby stuck on REPEAT. 2 posts in 1 day, YIKES. enjoy! :)
The ups and downs that take place in your relationship once Daniel is left without an F1 seat.
“What do you mean you’re out?”
Furiously, Daniel unzips his fireproofs as he ties the sleeves around his waist. Rummaging through his duffel bag, he grows more and more impatient. Taking a cautious step forward, you hand him his water bottle. “Thanks,” he lowly mutters as he takes a long sip. He shakes his head as he looks blankly towards the white wall. “They want someone younger. More talented.”
“But you’re talented, Daniel! You’re better than anyone here!”
Letting out a weak smile, he angles himself lower to hug you before pulling away and brushing your hair behind your ear. “No, I don’t think I am anymore.”
That was 2 months ago when news came out that your boyfriend would no longer be driving for McLaren. It was a complete shock, considering everyone loved the bubbly Australian, but it honestly didn’t hurt anyone more than it did you. Often, he would remind you that he was the one left without a seat and that you should be glad you would both have some time to disconnect and be together.
Shaking your head as you munch grumpily on a stack of pancakes, you say, “I love that you’re around - of course I do - but what they did to you was completely unfair. Who in their right mind expects good results for a shit car? That’s their fault, not yours.”
Walking around the kitchen island, he lets out a smile. “Relax, baby. I get it. You don’t want me around.” Narrowing your eyes, you fling a pair of gloves at his chest - from his recent addiction to dirtbiking. Don’t even, you warn. He lets out a sigh as he opens his mouth for you to pop in a bite. Digging your fork on a piece of pancake, you raise your arm up to feed him. He hums at the taste. “I was kidding, but seriously - it’s okay. I’ll get over it. You should, too.”
As much as he said he was doing fine, you knew something wasn’t right. He was hurt; felt betrayed and it did him no good to keep rejecting his feelings. But you didn’t bring up the topic anymore. You knew he didn’t like the reminder of what once was.
-
Dirt crunches underneath your boots as you walk up to him and Scotty. The Australians are hunched over, trying their best to fix their bikes as they share a bottle of cheap beer underneath the blazing sun. The 29 year old spots you first as he squints his blue eyes at you. You’re up early. You flip him off as you pretend to kick a pile of dirt at him. He comedically raises his arms as he wiggles his brows. “Chloe is looking for you. I think she’s gonna beat your ass.”
He quickly stands up as he blows a deep breath directly to your boyfriend's face. You cringe. They share a quick look before Daniel shoots a thumbs up. “You’re good.” Thanking him, Scotty rushes past you as he hands you his left over beer. Making your way over to the brunette, you take a seat next to him as you spill the remaining dark liquid.
“Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”
“Isn’t it too early to be looking so beautiful?”
You muster a glare. “Don’t change the subject, Daniel.” Avoiding eye contact, he just keeps his tired gaze entertained on an Acacia tree. Bringing the bottle up to his lips, he lets out a low whistle. It’s hot. A cold beer helps. “Right,” you mumble as you flicker your own eyes towards the green tree. You can still spot it - your initials and his engraved. He had done it one evening when he and Scotty had one, too many drinks. He had stumbled all the way to you just to drag you and show you. Because I love you. Even when I’m drunk, I love you like crazy.
“Trees getting old. Might be time to cut it down.”
You flinch at his words. “Can I have a sip?” He raises his brows as he hands you the bottle. You just had one, he tries to joke as he watches the way you chug it down. Drying your lips, you crane your neck to look up at the blue sky. “You never minded sharing before.” He can distinguish the way your voice sounds - as if you’re upset over something he might’ve said - but he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. Standing up, you hand him back the glass bottle.
“Cut the tree. I don’t care.”
-
“And to my beautiful girlfriend - you’re everything to me and I love you. Without a doubt, the best birthday present I could ever ask for.” Raising his Coca-Cola can, the brown eyed boy sends you a wink with a bright smile plastered across his face. A face you’ve grown to recognize. The one you love.
Making his way over to you, he throws his arms over your shoulders as he rocks you side to side. You smile against his chest. “How does it feel to be 34? Do you have bad knees already?” He lets out a toothy grin as he slaps your ass. “It’s just a question!”
“My knees are fine. As long as I can still kneel down in front of you - that’s all that matters, no?”
You blush at his words as you jokingly push him away. This only makes him cling onto you harder. Squinting your eyes up at him, you trace heart shapes against his biceps. You sincerely feel the happiest you’ve felt in ages. This is the Daniel you knew like the back of your hand. “I was thinking maybe we can take a trip. Anywhere, really. To celebrate-”
“My birthday?” He beams. “This is why you’re the sweetest girlfriend in the entire world!” No problem, you shyly respond as you pinch his t-shirt in between your fingers. Kissing you one last time, he excuses himself to go welcome some late-comers. Chole zig zags her way over to you as she gives you a side hug.
“How’d it go?”
You sigh. “He forgot. He completely forgot. I don’t think I can entirely blame him - I mean it is his birthday.” The fact that you have to defend him makes the blonde furrow her dark brows. Shaking her head, she hands you a slice of chocolate cake.
“Never in a million years did your guys’ anniversary slip his mind. What a dick.”
But you’re not even listening. You’re too flabbergasted that he cut his cake without you being there with him.
-
Whether it was a trip to Vermont for his birthday or your anniversary, it didn’t really matter because you loved every second. It’s almost like he needed this break. To do something different that didn’t feel like a forced routine. You went hiking, apple picking, to a million bars that only served barbeque ribs - and you never felt more at peace.
Handing you a bouquet of flowers, he kneels down in front of you. You roll your eyes as you take the colorful peonies from him - though inside you were shaking like a 17 year old getting her first glimpse of love. “What’s this for?” He shrugs as he takes a seat next to you.
“Just because.”
Those were your favorite types of flowers. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you both continue chatting about anything and everything that crossed your mind. As you both pass by a peach tree, he lets go of your hand as he brings up his camera with sudden determination. Stand right there, baby.
Trying to express your happiness as best as you can, you hug your gift close to your face as you smile so wide, your eyes nearly shut.
“You’re mind blowing,” he murmurs as he snaps the picture. He takes a moment to admire you as you jog over to him. Show me! He clicks his tongue. “It’s digital. You’re gonna have to wait.” You pout as you pinch his cheek. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, he presses warm kisses.
“I have something to tell you.” Your heart stops; suddenly filled with nervousness as he smiles with giddiness. What is it? “I’m going to be driving again! I mean it completely sucks for Nyck, but I’m just so happy to get back into an F1 car.”
“Nyck? As in the Alpha Tauri driver?”
He nods. “I got the call last month - a few days after my birthday. Best present ever.” Once again, his words cut you deep without him even noticing. Nevertheless, you force a tight smile.
“I’m so happy for you, Danny. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted for so long.”
-
When you both get back to Australia, it surprises you a bit how normal things have stayed. He’s smiling more - if that was even possible - he’s laughing louder, too. Roaming the house, you rub your eyes from sleepiness. Scotty and Chloe share a laugh when they spot you. “And Sleeping Beauty has finally woken. I didn’t think that was possible.” Chloe smacks his chest as she sends you a wink.
“Humor me, why don’t you?” Your gaze flickers across the living room. “Where’s Danny?”
“Outside.”
Sliding the door open, you step out as you try your best to adjust your eyesight to the bright sun. As soon as it does, your stomach drops. You run up to the brunette as you pull the ax from him.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Startled, he jumps up as he takes his earphones out. “Holy shit. You scared me, don’t do that!” Tears fill your eyes as you analyze the chopped tree. You’re no expert, but even you can tell that there’s no going back. The only result that comes out of this would be for the tree to fall down. Rushing over to you, he checks you everywhere to make sure you weren’t hurt. You brush him off.
“Why would you do this?”
He cocks his head to the side, brown eyes filled with confusion. “I’m so lost, what did I do?” Anger bubbles up inside of you as you force yourself to not yell at him. “You’re okay, so why are you crying? Oh no. Did Scotty wake you up again? I told him not to do that anymore!”
“I’m done.” You wipe your tears as you let out a bitter laugh. “I am so done.”
“What do you mean you’re done?”
“I’m saying I give up! Fuck, I give up. That’s it. You win. I just - can’t.”
He tries to take a step closer but you only distance yourself twice as much. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
“I’ve tried so hard to understand you, I really did, but I’m just as tired as you are. I tried to ease your pain when McLaren let you go, but you kept pushing me away. I tried to be there for you on days you felt like nothing, but to me you were always everything. I tried to not let you see how much it hurt me when you forgot our 5 year anniversary. I tried to not act like it bothered me when you cut the cake I spent hours baking for you, without me. I tried to not act surprised when I found out you kept the news from me about you returning to F1 for one fucking month. But I can’t try and pretend that you cutting down this tree hasn’t broken my heart.”
“It’s just a stupid, old tree-”
“I don’t think you understand! It may be old and it sure as hell could be stupid, but it was ours.” You grab his hand harshly as you drag him to the other side of the tree. His eyes grow wide. I didn’t remember - I swear I forgot that was even there! You let out a wet laugh as you toss your hair over your shoulder. “You’re hurting me, Daniel. Can’t you see?”
“You’re the one who said I should cut it down. You can’t seriously just be blaming me.”
“And who came up with the idea first?”
He lowers his gaze as he runs his left hand against his clenched jaw. “I’m sorry.” He connects his desperate eyes to your glossy ones. “But don’t say all those things, please. You’re right. I’ve been an awful boyfriend, but no one understands me better than you.” Placing his hands on either side of your face, he lets out soft pants. “You’re everything to me, how could you have possibly felt that way? I love you.”
“Love me like what?” He furrows his brows as he searches for an answer. You scrunch your nose as you push his hands down. “I thought you loved me like crazy.” His stomach churns. “Listen, I love you, Daniel. I love you so fucking much, but even I can see that I’m not you’re happiness anymore. Not the way I used to be, at least. You have other priorities; other plans-”
“No, you’re my priority. You always have been.”
“Except I haven’t. For a moment, you went radio silent. It was a one-sided relationship, but I loved you so much that I stayed. I pushed past it. Then - one random day - your shine came back. You were insanely happy and I thought-” You shut your eyes. You can feel your salty tears trickle down your face. “I thought it was because of me. Now I realize, it hasn’t been about me for a while now. It’s so obvious that the only reason you were cheerful once again was because you got what you wanted. You got a seat.”
“You’re wrong-”
“I’m not.” You let out a shaky breath as you bite down on your lip; a weak attempt to not out loud sobs. “I would have gladly taken part in your pain, but you never let me join you. You never let me get close enough to help you out.” Making your way up to him slowly, you tippy toe as you lean in for a kiss. What hurts the most is that all of a sudden - he’s kissing you the exact same way he did when he first told you that he loved you. He was giving it his all. Pulling away, you let out a low whimper as you feel your chin tremble. Your smile wobbles. “Can’t force something that’s not there anymore, can you?”
Taking him in one last time, you rub his forearm as you gently pat it before you walk away. Daniel feels paralyzed as he watches you go. He’s expecting you to turn around at least one last time and he’s expecting his body to let him run after you, but neither of those things happen.
Hesitantly, Chloe and Scotty make their way to their frozen friend. They had heard the fight, but decided it was best to not intervene.
“She left.”
The couple share a concerned look as they take in the weak tree that was clearly about to fall at any moment. Chloe sighs as she walks away, making a beeline to find you. Though, she knows you better than anyone. You weren’t going to return. And she completely understood.
Scotty takes a step back as he shakes his head in disbelief.
“She fucking loved that tree.”
#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo angst#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo one shot#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc smut#carlos sainz#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz imagines#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz icons#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz f1#carlos sainz fluff#charles leclerc f1#anon#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#daniel ricciardo x female reader
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Max Verstappen x YouTuber!Reader - Social Media AU
This was a request but I kept having issues posting the original directly and I am so sorry that it’s shorter than usual but I am in the middle of taking finals and feeling super drained.
yourusername
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yourusername on our first date i told max that i want a man that makes my heart race … so he took me out in a sports car going 320 km/h
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maxverstappen1 had to make sure you knew what you were getting into
yourusername i stuck around after you almost made me puke so clearly it worked
maxverstappen1 almost? i had to throw the shoes i was wearing out
yourusername there’s some things you don’t have to tell the internet 🤫
f1wagupdates he understood the assignment
y/nupdates how long have you been together?
maxverstappen1 14 months, 2 weeks, 3 days, and 7 hours but who’s counting?
yourusername everyone thinks my boyfriend is aggressive on the track but he’s really just a sweet teddy bear off of it
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 from youtube to wetube
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yourusername i love you and your cringy captions
maxverstappen1 there’s nothing cringy about my puns, schatje
yourusername just don’t quit your day job, babe 🫶
supermaxbros this is my multiverse of madness
f1wagupdates look at how happy they are together 🥹
y/nupdates they deserves everything good in this world
verstappenupdates i’m so glad they found each other
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#social media au#max verstappen#instagram au#instagram imagine#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#red bull f1#f1 instagram au#instagram edit#f1 blurb#fake instagram#f1 fandom#f1 fluff#formula 1#insta edit#f1blr
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Hey I hope you have a great day.
So I just saw the post with the wrath of the creator on Azar and I had an idea.
I am very emotional and I bailed my eyes out when I did the chasm quest with xiao and he nearly died AND I got a sad cutscene of the adepti after so my traveler was just stuck in the dialog with Xiao while I was crying a whole waterfall and sniffing really loudly and the only other quest where I had that was when we were in the chasm with dain and he tells us that the hillichurls are cursed people from Khanri'ah. I stood in front of the corpses and cried heart out.
So I wanted to ask the characters reactions to that. Especially Xiao, the archons we know (because khanri'ah and its destruction is a big thing here) and dainsleif.
I'm sorry this got so long. If you want to change something or want to add someone or take a character out it's okay, this is just my 5 am thought I just had.
Alr, Anon! Coming right up! Imma just focus on the Perilous Quest lol-
Creator Having A Meltdown During Perilous Quest
(Warning: Might Be OOC & Spoilers to the Perilous Archon Quest!)
Yelan
She wasn't going to lie, she wasn't expecting you to cry your heart out so freely. Raw emotion was hard to come by when people grow. They tend to be more...seclusive, with their emotions.
You, on the other hand, were free-balling it. You did NOT care if people were gonna look at you weird, you are gonna cry because you are sad! And honestly, Yelan's glad that the Almighty Creator is expressive and sentient. It proves just how much you care for the characters.
"It seems the Almighty Creator is far more connected than anyone thought..." She wonders what she can do with this information, but at the same time, keep it under wraps. Letting this information slip into the wrong hands was always dangerous.
She wouldn't gamble your safety. Never. Safe to say Yelan's got you covered.
Itto
Woah, woah! He did not expect you, the Almighty Creator, to be crying their eyes out the moment he wakes up from passing out and all that—what he miss? What happened while he was sleeping?
Wait, they're not in the Chasm anymore? Oh Archons, someone just tell him what happened! Why the heck is the Creator balling his eyes out?
"Huh—? What's going on? We're out of the chasm?" Poor guy is so oblivious, and no one's bothering to fill him in—at least, at the moment.
He'll pester Shinobu about this later. Just, someone, stop the Creator from crying! Those are sad tunes, not something you want to hear when you should be celebrating about leaving that gloomy place!
Yanfei
She was NOT expecting you to be this emotional! Yanfei feels a little guilty not being able to do anything about it, to be honest...
She has to resist the urge to shake Xiao out of his stupor, because a) that was unprofessional, b) she's more relieved than anything, and c) Yanfei wasn't sure if you, the Creator, would think she was okay if she started acting out like that.
So, instead, she tries to ground herself, and do her best to make sure that the situation is fine, and that everything will be okay. That's the least she can do to reassure you, and everyone else, right?
"Hopefully, Their Grace will stop those tears...Hearing them sad makes me feel sad..." As a lawyer, Yanfei knows how to sympathize with her clients. This, however, felt like she could really understand what you were going through—there was a bond between you and everyone.
She doesn't want to make you sad. That's one thing for sure. Yanfei wouldn't be able to sleep out of guilt otherwise.
Shinobu
She wasn't expecting you to be crying your heart out, but she loves how sentient you are. It shows just how you truly care about Xiao, and about everyone.
She really appreciates you. She can see how you connect with every character—how you cheer with everyone, cherish the moment with everyone, rejoice, and mourn. This was visible proof of it all.
"Hm...How should we comfort Their Grace..." Shinobu wants to do something—for the sake of the gang's gratitude for their Almighty Creator. And everyone here as well.
You contributed much of yourself for them. For that, she's grateful.
She'll have to explain to Boss later...but that's besides the point right now.
Xiao
He feels guilty for making you cry. He heard you call out his name several many times. He hears how you ball your eyes out, thinking you were gonna lose him, only for Rex Lapis to save him just in time.
He doesn't know if the Lord of Geo heard your divine prayers, or if he went on his own accord, but he feels guilty. He placed a heavy burden on you. He didn't mean to.
"How should I make it up to Their Grace..." He listens to how you scream and cry (out of joy now) that he was alive. You, the Almighty Creator, already connected yourself to someone like him. Your bond was too severe, and he tried to cut it off.
But the way the Traveler is smiling at them with a reassuring smile, Xiao wonders if he will be forgiven. Perhaps far quicker than he imagined.
Ghost Rebel Side Notes: This honestly feels too OOC—I don't really know Yelan's personality all that well, and honestly I don't think I caught the full potential of Yanfei, Itto, and Shinobu. I do hope you enjoyed this, but I'm also sorry if this came out disappointing.
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
#genshin impact sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#sagau x reader#genshin self aware#sagau#sagau genshin#yandere sagau#genshin cult au#sagau brainrot#sagau cult au#genshin imact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#sagau yelan#sagau yanfei#sagau itto#sagau shinobu#sagau xiao#sagau aether#sagau lumine#sagau traveler#sagau paimon
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Wet Dream
Pairings: Bsf!JJ x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Talking in sleep, Perv!JJ, somno (?), non-con oral (f & m receiving), talk about p in v, kissing, hickies daddy kink, etc
Summary: You were having a wet dream in front of JJ.
Authors Note: I hope you like this one!
Y/N was laying on the couch, peacefully sleeping while I played on my phone, sitting in the chair across from her. Everyone else had gone to bed already or went home. Y/N and I were spending the night but she was supposed to sleep in the bed.
"Jayj..." She must be awake now. "What's up?" I never looked up from my phone, I waited for a response but it never happened. I glanced at her and saw that her eyes were still shut. She must have just gone back to sleep.
"Mmm Jayj..." I looked back over to her, but nothing. I'm assuming I'm just hearing things, especially because the room was silent for another 10 minutes.
"Mm yeah right there..." My cheeks flushed. I didn't know what to do, I don't think she remembers that I'm here. When I moved my eyes back to her body, she was still sleeping. "Yesss, jus-just like that." Was she having a wet dream..?
Fuck this is the hottest thing I've seen in a long time. But she is my best friend I can't act upon this. "Mmm" She was moaning and making some beautiful sounds. "Jayj, stop teasing.." My heart burst and my dick sprung up. She was having a wet dream, and I was in it.
My hand slowly met my dick through my shorts. I couldn't help but palm at myself while I watched her face and listened to every word she said. "your tongue is cold..." She moaned. It's crazy how well she's forming these little thoughts, but I'm so glad she's able to. I stroked myself slowly through my pants and bit my lip.
At that moment I had a beautiful idea. Was it wrong? Yes. Did I care? Not really. I walked over to her spot on the couch and put my hand on her thigh, underneath the blanket. I rubbed up and down gently. Luckily I've been around Y/N before when she sleeps. She can be a very heavy sleeper. I'm praying that's how she is today.
I flipped the blanket off her legs so it would sit on her torso. My hand went to her pajama shorts and moved them to the side, that's when I realized, she wasn't wearing panties. That's even better.
I needed to see if she was going to wake up or not so I dipped my head between her legs and gave her a small kitten lick. "Mmmm" Her moan scared me but she's still asleep, so I think I'll be okay to continue. Who am I kidding? I would've continued regardless.
My head found its way between her legs again. I started slowly licking stripes up her cunt. After a few good licks, I stopped on her clit. My lips wrapped around the sensitive bud and I sucked on it.
A gasp escaped from her lips but her eyes were still closed. It wasn't until she put her hand in my hair and started pulling, that I realized she was awake. "Fuck yes-don't stop- please..." She dragged out. It was my mission to make her cum now. My middle and ring fingers found their way into her hole. "oh fuck" She almost yelled before I put some fingers from my other hand in her mouth to shush her. "Gotta be quiet *lick* don't wanna get caught Y/N/N" I realized just exactly what I was doing when I said her nickname, but I couldn't stop now.
I tried my best to keep her quiet while pushing my fingers in and out of her noisy ass pussy. "Fuck Jayj- I think I'm gonna cum-" She said and I couldn't be happier. I stuck my tongue in her hole and used the fingers that were in there, to rub her clit in fast circles.
She was wiggling and made little shrieking sounds, so I knew she was close. I fucked her with my tongue a little faster until I felt her warm liquid spill onto it. "oh jay...." she moaned as her hand tugged at my golden locks.
I kissed up and down the inside of her thighs. Once she came down from her high, she came back to reality and gasped. She shot up, fixed her shorts and hid her body under her blanket. Y/N was all balled up in the corner of the couch just staring at me. "What? Do I have something on my face?" I wiped the side of my mouth with my thumb, clearly being a smartass.
I dodged the pillow that was thrown at my head and let out a giggle. "That's not very nice to do, especially after I just made you cum." Her cheeks turned red. "What were you doing?!" She nearly screamed. "Shhh, don't yell, we don't wanna wake up JB and Sarah." I shushed her. "Why did you do that JJ?" She questioned quietly this time. "You were begging for it!" I said and quickly realized when I saw her face that what I said came out bad. "No no no! Not like that! You were legitimately begging me. I heard you moaning my name, and you looked so pretty...I-Im sorry.." My hands flew to my face, I felt like such an asshole.
The next thing I knew I felt someone tugging at my shorts. A pair of hands moved mine away from my eyes and made me pull down my cargo shorts. "What are you doing?" I asked almost like she did earlier. "I can't be the only one to cum Jayj. Since you already made this a thing, I'm gonna at least finish you off so we are even instead of us never talking to each other again."
"You think we'd never talk to each oth-" She cut me off by wrapping her lips around my tip and slowly swirling her tongue around it. "ohhh fuck.." I rested my hand on her head and I tilted mine back and bit my lip. I lightly pushed my hand down to make her start bobbing up and down. "Mmm faster baby.." I didn't care about the nickname right now, I'm sure I'll call her some other things soon. When I asked her to speed up she did, and fuck it felt amazing. "Just like that- fuck just like that..." Y/N was going even faster, and apparently she didn't care about making too much noise...or a mess. There was so much spit on my dick I couldn't fucking think straight. This was the best head I've ever received and I haven't even cum yet. Well, I was about to. She reached down with one hand and played with my balls while the other was stroking some of my length. Most of it was in her mouth but when she needed a moment to breathe her hand had no problem taking over. "I'm almost there, fuck don't stop." My head fell back again.
"Cum for me daddy.." She said which caused me to whip my head up as I came in her mouth. It caught me so off guard, but it did help me cum. I watched as she swallowed my load. My best friend just sucked my dick and swallowed my cum...what the fuck is happening. "Feel better Jay?" She asked innocently while retrieving some toilet paper from the bathroom to clean me up. "So much better."
About 30 minutes later we were cuddling on the couch, setting up a movie. I sat up and she straddled my lap. "I think we need to talk." She said putting her arms around my neck. "I couldn't agree more." I smiled back, placing my hands on her ass. "But that's for tomorrow, let's have fun tonight." Her lips met mine. We moaned into each other's mouths as she grinded her hips downwards onto my dick. "Someone's not satisfied with my impressive pussy eating skills?" I giggled. "It was very impressive from what I was awake for, and you'll have another chance to impress me with that tongue, but I wanna see what that dick is capable of..." My eyes widened, not only did she say I would have another chance, but she also wanted me to dick her down. FUCK YEAH!
"Just gonna sit there with those googly eyes, or are you gonna take me to the bedroom and show me what you're made of bestie?" She taunted.
I picked her up and entangled our tongues once again before walking us to the bedroom.
After I closed the door we heard a loud "THANK YOU" come from John B and Sarah.
"I guess we were a little loud baby." I giggled when I set her down on the bed and crawled between her legs. "Sorryyyy" "Never said it was a bad thing baby..next time we are home alone, I promise to make you scream for me." I smirked and started attacking her neck, leaving only hickies behind.
"You're my bestest best friend ever." She moaned out as I stuck my dick in her. "Stop friend-zoning me, especially while I'm fucking you." I pushed in harder waiting for her to respond. "Fine. Fuck me harder! Fuck me until my legs shake Jayj! I'm all yours daddy!" I stopped what I was doing because she called me that name again. "And that's why I don't call you that! Fuck me Jayj!" She teased. "Call me daddy again..it's fuckin hot." I said as I slapped her ass. "Stick your huge fucking cock in me and fuck the shit out of me...daddy.."
I did as she asked. By the end of the night we were tired, sweaty, and definitely more than just besties.
#outer banks#jj maybank#rudy pankow smut#obx fic#rudy pankow x reader#obx x reader#outer banks smut#jj maybank smut#jj maybank imagine#smut prompts
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Your Casanova
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~800
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You're the team's jet pilot who always looks forward to spending time with Spencer Reid. His love for you is unconditional.
Square Filled: jet pilot (2021) for @cmbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
You’re in the middle of doing your checklist when Spencer walks onto the jet. He looks to the cockpit and sees you there doing your thing. A bright smile etches on his face, and he steps aside to let his coworkers past him so he can talk to you.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Spencer!” you grin and look at him. “I’m glad you’re here. How has your week been?”
“I finished ten more books. I would have finished more, but I was a bit busy playing chess at the park with the other kids. I also went to the local library and participated in the local science fair. The kids had good ideas but I helped them hone their craft.”
“Sounds like you had it good.”
“It would have been better with you by my side.”
That makes your cheeks heat to which your copilot smirks. You nudge her leg to get her to shut up. She knows of the little crush you have on Spencer ever since meeting him a few years ago. Hearing about his week makes your day tenfold. You’re the main pilot for the BAU for both A and B Teams. A Team is by far your favorite team because it’s the team Spencer’s on.
While you have to focus on flying, there are times when you can take a small break and let your copilot take the reigns. You and Spencer always have something to talk about no matter the subject because as much as it makes your day to hear about his, it makes his day to hear about yours.
However, it’s not always sunshine and rainbows as Penelope likes to put it. Spencer will be one way when you pick him up at the airport but be another way when you get to take him home. The stress of the case will weigh heavily on his shoulders, so you like to do the little things to help him feel better even if you don’t think they’ll help.
Spencer walks onto the plane after the grueling case you took him to, and you notice how his shoulders sag a bit.
“You got this, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll finish the checklist.”
You leave the cockpit and join Spencer’s side in the small kitchen where he’s making himself some coffee.
“Hey, sunshine,” you say to him.
“Hey,” he says and gives you a half-smile.
“I’m not gonna pretend to know what you’re going through, but I think under the circumstances, you’re doing a good job. You’re the strongest person I know.”
Derek smirks when he hears you subtly flirt with him, which Spencer doesn’t pick up on.
“Thanks,” Spencer smiles.
You get back to the cockpit to get ready for take-off. This flight isn’t as long as some of the others so sPencer decides to spend it taking a nap. When the plane lands, you allow the agents to get off first before you and your copilot do. Spencer and Derek are quietly arguing about something as you pass by them, and then you feel someone crash into your back.
“I am so sorry,” Spencer chuckles nervously.
“That’s okay. Did you need something?”
Spencer looks back at Derek who gives him an encouraging nod.
“Would you like to go out with me on Friday? I know a great Indian place.”
“I love Indian food,” you grin.
“So, is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Um, here is my number.”
He fumbles with his FBI card that has his personal number on there.
“Great. I’ll call you,” you grin and walk off.
As they say, the rest is history. You and Spencer have been in a loving and stable relationship for a year now, and you fall in love with him every single day. You’re piloting for B Team this week, so Spencer planned something special for you when you return. You told him the date and time at which you would be touching down, and he told you he’d been waiting for you at the pickup area.
When you land, you rush to get your things so you can see Spencer sooner. You step into the pickup area and frown when you don’t see your tall boyfriend. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic or trying to find parking. You wait five minutes and grow concerned. He’s never late.
The irrational part of your brain thinks he’s cheating or that he doesn’t love you anymore even though you absolutely know he’d never hurt you like that. You look at the time when you hear two security guards laughing to your right. They’re looking at someone lying on the bench next to them, and when you walk closer, you see it’s Spencer. He’s so tired that he fell asleep waiting for you on the bench with flowers in his hands.
“Man, I bet he’s whipped,” one of them chuckles as they walk past him.
You walk over to him with a smile on your face and put a hand on his cheek gently.
“Spencer, baby?”
He jumps awake at your touch and looks up at you apologetically.
“Sorry, I fell asleep.”
He hands you the flowers that are slightly squished from his body.
“They’re beautiful,” you chuckle and lean down to kiss him. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s go home and fall asleep to Disney movies.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he grins.
x
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