#my meeting is over now so i will try to get some replies out!!
Text
Raise
Roman Roy x f!reader (6.1k)
Summary - Roman will increase your raise substantially, so long as you don't lose his game.
Tags - 18+ smut mdni, harassment, manipulation, coercion, dubcon, blowjobs, fingering, oral, brief ass eating and play, unprotected piv, rough sex, creampie, reader has a bush but is otherwise not described, roman is dominant because i like him that way, reader has a sick cat.
A/N - hello Roman readers!! it's been a while, but I hope to write a little more of him for you this summer. Thank you for being patient with me and for all of the love and support on Invisible Line . Enjoy the smut my friends
Graciously edited by my love @noxturnalpascal <3
You’re sitting at Roman’s desk, staring at the back of his monitor, counting the number of pens in his cup. You wonder how much he actually writes with them, if he has a favorite and which one it could be. Roman’s making you wait on him, just because he can. He likes to watch you squirm. He’s got an analog clock on the wall that ticks loudly, something he probably hand picked himself. Obnoxious, just like him.
It’s been about a year of you working at Waystar, a year of putting up with Roman’s antics. It started with some light hazing, as others called it. Roman would humiliate you in meetings, going out of his way to make your day worse. He’d stick a leg out in the aisle of his jet to trip your feet, scuff your pretty heels you worked so hard saving up for. Most bullies get a rise out of their victim’s reaction, but Roman always seemed equally amused by your lack of one. He was relentless, and his tormenting only escalated as time went on. Pinching your ass cheek in a crowded elevator, groping you on the jet, whispering vulgar things in your ear. Roman, ever the walking sexual harassment lawsuit, but nothing you can’t handle. He seems to know this too.
He’s harmless, after all. Gossip is rich at Waystar Royco, especially when it comes to the family. Kendall went on another bender, Logan’s pissing in closets and losing it, Roman can’t get it up - scared of pussy, always has been, always will be. You’d heard it all before, so you know that all of his touching, inappropriate sexual remarks, they’re just a façade. But yet, you’re not immune to the anxiety he invokes within you. Your heart pounds when Roman enters the room, pounds harder when he locks the door behind him. You feel the pulse between your thighs.
Roman takes a seat across from you at his desk, papers in hand, and taps the edge of them on the wood to line them up. Your legs are crossed, you’re wiggling your ankle. Anxious tic. “Are you nervous?” he asks. “You don’t have to be. It’s just me and you, you and me. Nothing to be nervous about.”
“I know,” you reply quietly.
“Cool. So I’m gonna start us off. You’ve been here for uhhh….” Roman hums, thinking, “Little over a year now, so congratulations are in order. So congrats,” he says, motioning to you with the papers in his hand.
“Thank you,” you say.
Roman continues, “It’s been nice having you here, for a number of reasons. Number of reasons,” he smirks, his voice a little lower. You shift uncomfortably in your seat when he glances at you through his eyebrows, still mostly looking down at his papers. “I like having you here, a lot. I do,” Roman says. He’s throwing you off though, and you know he’s trying to make you second guess yourself, walk on eggshells around him. And it works. “It’s just…I don’t know. Not that impressed with your performance lately.”
“Okay…Why, exactly?”
“You tell me.”
Roman’s good at what he’s doing. He knows exactly the kind of inflection in his tone he needs to take to really get under your skin, make you pick at your nails a little more urgently, tug at that loose string in your skirt until it breaks. Roman likes you - really, he does. You’re quiet, you do as you’re told, you’re maybe a little meek for his taste, but there’s worse things than that. He had a conversation with you recently on the plane and got to know you a little better.
-
During the flight he’d noticed the cat photo on your phone’s lock screen and asked about it. “Who’s this?”
“Artie,” you replied. “He’s my baby. He’s a sick old man, but he’s my baby.”
“Sick? How sick?”
You shrugged, not really wanting to get into it entirely. It’s difficult to think about. “He’s getting uncomfortable. He’s got a few years left in him, I think, but he’s got some stuff going on. I take him in for these treatments every two weeks, and they’re getting too expensive. And he’s got teeth issues, so he’s in pain. And just - none of it’s affordable, so I’m considering…I don’t know. You know.”
Roman nodded sympathetically, then asked what vet’s office you take Artie to. You stifled your laugh when he told you that he always considered himself a cat person. Roman, a cat person. It’s hard to think of him as an actual human at times, bizarre to think of him as a human that could identify with any sort of animal. If anything, you would have guessed he’d associate with a snake. Bearded dragon, maybe. You don’t know.
“Seriously, I love ‘em,” he explained, “Dogs are just so in your face, you know? I don’t know. They’re fine, I guess. One of god’s creatures. I’ve just always liked cats.”
“Didn’t know that,” you replied with a small smile.
“You do now,” he said. He was a little too close for comfort, sitting next to you bicep to bicep, thigh to thigh. Roman whispered, “I can help you, if you ask for it.”
“Ask for what?”
“You know. You’ve got an anniversary coming up, yeah? Usually means a raise. What do you think, would five percent be enough? Take care of your kitty cat and a little extra for you?” Your eyes lit up at that and you nodded excitedly. “I need you to ask.”
“Can I have…” Nervous it might be a trap, you trail off, but Roman raised his eyebrows and nodded, encouraged to go on. It felt less like a trap than normal, though. “Five percent?”
“Oh, it’d be my pleasure. We’ll have a performance meeting here soon, we’ll bang it all out,” Roman squeezes your thigh a couple of times, you don’t even jump like you usually do when he touches you and flirts. “Yeah?”
-
You tell me.
You’re caught off guard, zero clue what Roman could be referring to. “I don’t - you - what did I do?” your voice comes out shakier, more defensive than you intended.
“Hey, relax. Just you and me, like I said. It’ll be fine.” Roman waits for you to reply, but you’re silent. “It’s not a big deal, really, and it’s fixable. You know, with discipline and all that. I’ve just noticed you’ve got quite the habit of sneaking off to the supply closet? Hours at a time, sometimes, and always when I need you most. What is it you’re doing in there?”
Still silent. Moreso now, as if that’s even possible, because you know exactly what Roman’s talking about. You wonder how much he knows, if he’s heard or - god forbid - seen anything. You’re not going to talk about it.
“That’s fine,” Roman says, “Don’t tell me. Anyway, I see here you’re asking for a five percent raise, the best I can do is one and a half. Insulting, I know, but - well - you know, keep up the hard work. I’m sure you’ll get there.”
“But the plane,” you argue, “Roman, you told me to ask for five.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not - ugh -” he groans then, an exaggerated groan, like he’s really trying to sell it. You shouldn’t have trusted him on the plane, you should’ve known he’d fuck you. He always fucks you, he fucks everyone. “I’m not happy about this either. I think you deserve your five percent. Fuck it, I think you deserve ten. But my hands are tied.”
“But they’re not, Roman, you said–”
“I know what I said, but I told you: you’re dropping the ball, and I just don’t feel that you deserve that five percent anymore. Don’t think it’s representative of the kind of work you’ve been doing here.”
Roman stares at you from across his desk, putting on his own pouty face to mock yours. You feel disappointed, both in him and in yourself. Dejected. It’s your own fault, for two reasons: A, trusting Roman to throw you a bone and B, getting called out for the closet thing. He stands up, tapping fingers on his desk as he rounds it to sit in the chair next to you and puts a hand on your thigh, always with the hand on your thigh. You’re almost used to it. He says, “You’re upset. I know. I’m sorry. But some raise is better than no raise, right?” with a squeeze to your flesh.
“Yeah. I guess. Was just excited, you and I…we talked about this,” you whisper. Poor Artie. You had told him excitedly that he’s gonna start having good days again. Good thing cats don’t speak English.
“I know. I don’t - yeah, I don’t know. That was before though, wasn’t it? Maybe if you tell me what you’ve been doing in that supply closet I’ll wiggle a bit.” Roman looks at you quietly, a sly smirk on his lips, still drumming his fingers against the top of his desk as he allows you time to explain yourself. When the silence hangs long enough, he decides to switch gears. He bends down and lifts your leg up onto his lap, escalating those touches of his again. “Nice heels. I like these on you,” he says.
“Thank you,” you mumble cautiously. Is that it? Is the meeting over? He brought you in here just to tell you that your raise might as well be nothing at all, and then what? He’s turning your foot in his hand, now, and you’re tensing up with his touch.
“Sure.” Roman says. He doesn’t ask permission when he pulls the shoe off, exposing your foot - he’d never ask permission. With his pointer finger, he traces your skin, starting at your heel, tracing up, up, he watches your toes curl as he follows the curve of each one. He tells you he likes the way your toes are pedicured.
“Roman,” you protest, trying to pull your foot from his grip. Roman ignores you and squeezes your ankle tightly with his other hand as he continues to touch your skin.
“You’re ticklish,” he says, now tracing the length of the bottom of your foot. You’re wiggling and fighting not to kick him but you do, accidentally. You kick harder than you expected, certainly harder than Roman expected as well. This much is evident when he lets out a surprised noise, a groan of pain, and chuckles at that. “Alright, alright, don’t hurt me. I’ll stop.”
Stop tickling you, maybe. But he’s not done touching you, oh not at all. He pulls on your other leg and brings it to his lap, rolls your chair until it’s as close as can be, flush with his legs. He sits your feet on top of the arm rests of his chair and his hands are traveling up your legs now, fingers skating over your kneecaps and you jolt again, one of your shins hit the hardwood of his desk and you suck a sharp breath through your teeth. “You’re ticklish here, too?” Roman asks, circling your knee with his middle and forefingers. His question is answered when you squirm and shimmy in your seat, reaching to pry his hands away as you bite down on your lip to hide the smile that betrays you. “Wow. Sensitive, very sensitive. Are you sensitive everywhere?”
One of his hands is climbing up your thigh now, his fingertips hidden beneath the fabric of your skirt. You look over her shoulder, then hear the click of Roman hitting a button on his remote. Shades descend down the vast planes of his indoor windows, concealing you and Roman in privacy.
Not that there’s many people in the office, anyway. Your stomach drops and your heart pounds loudly, loud enough that Roman might hear if it weren’t for your heavy breathing, made up of fear, arousal, anticipation. You face Roman again and the sun is setting behind him, there’s not much light on his face and he looks almost like a movie in black and white. Fuck, he’s so sexy like this, sleeves rolled up and his small, crooked smirk. He’s gorgeous, with his longish strands of dark hair, his eyes that flicker between colors of hazel and green, now darkened nearly black. He taps you, “Hey, you. I asked you something.”
“Y-yeah, I’m ticklish,” you stutter.
“Well duh, I know you’re ticklish, look–” Roman reaches behind himself to tickle your foot again, and he catches your ankle when you try to kick him away. Your foot goes right back where he wants it. “I asked if you’re sensitive. Sensitive like, what’re you gonna do if my hand goes up your skirt?”
“Roman, what are you–”
“Nothing you don’t want me to do.” he interrupts. Roman continues, “Maybe my hands aren’t as tied as we thought. I could get you that ten percent, if you’d let me.”
With one hand drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh, the other is unbuckling his belt, the sound is unmistakable. He’s palming his bulge through his Calvin Klein briefs, groaning as he does so. Then he pulls his cock out, where it springs up against his tummy. You must look shocked or scared by this, because Roman tells you to relax. “I’m not doing anything. You don’t have to suck me off, I don’t even have to fuck you. I probably will, though. It’s easy.”
“What’s easy?”
“What I’m gonna do to you,” he says plainly. He continues, “If you let me have my way with you, toy with you for as long as I’d like, however I like, I’ll get you your ten percent. Promise. I know it’s like, super off the books, but…more fun this way, I think. And you’d agree too, wouldn’t you?”
“Roman, we’re gonna…we’re gonna get in trouble, Roman,” you caution.
“But you don’t disagree, though.”
“We’re going to get in trouble,” you repeat.
“Only if you tattle. And you’re not gonna tattle on me, are you? ‘Cause that would be stupid. You know what’d happen - they’d ask if I harassed you, and you’d say yes, of course, because you know I love to. They’d ask you how long it’s been going on for, da da da. You know. But then–” Roman pushes your knees apart, opening you up wide for him and your skirt bunches up at the top of your thighs, “I’ll tell them how you spread your legs for me, how you moaned for me - ‘cause you will. Oh, I’ll make you. And I’ll tell them how you wanted it this way. Always wanted it this way, didn’t you?” he asks. “You can be honest.”
Your body will do nothing if not betray you. You nod, because you’ve fantasized about this. Oh, you’ve fantasized about all of this, about Roman. And they’re never normal fantasies, always the dirtiest and most shameful. Roman fucking you against a window he masturbates on, people below could watch if they wanted. Roman hitting you, hurting you. Teasing you. Making you cry, then kissing away your tears. You’ll squeeze your legs together on the plane when you think of these things, often sitting across from Roman or right next to him. Slip away when you need relief, desperately dance your fingers around your clit. Roman always watches you after you emerge from your hiding place, like he knows, like he can smell it on you.“Yeah, I know. This’ll be fun then. Lotta fun.”
Roman brings one of your feet to his lips and kisses it, kisses up your ankle and your leg, his stubble brushing and scratching against your skin. Remembering his rule, that he’ll do as he pleases and that you just have to take it, you ask him, “What are you, oh fuck–” you gasp and moan when he sucks on a spot near your inner knee, an area you didn’t even know could feel that way. “What are you gonna do to me?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he taunts. He kisses your other leg, swirling his tongue in circles on your skin. “Whatever I want, that’s what I’m gonna do to you. Does that answer your question?”
Roman bends forward, wriggles his hands beneath your skirt and paws at your hips until he hooks his fingers into the fabric of your panties, then pulls them down and off your legs. He admires his work, seeing as they’re already slick with your arousal. “Wet for me already,” he comments, sniffing your panties before tucking them away. You’re embarrassed by that, heat creeps up your neck and paints your cheeks. Roman continues, “But yeah, I don’t know, though, to answer your question. What do you think I’m gonna do to you?”
“Touch me,” you breathe. You’re not sure if it’s an answer to his question or a demand. Roman smiles at your desperation.
“Well yeah, of course I’m gonna touch you. I’ll touch you more than I touch myself, and you know that’s a lot. You should probably be scared.”
Roman inches closer, placing one of his hands on top of the back of your chair, caging you in. He has such a way of making you feel so small. A hand sneaks between your thighs, where he first toys with your tuft of curls, dampened by your arousal. “How nice. You shaved for me.”
He dips his fingers between your lips, dragging them through your slickened folds. You’re sighing, your head falling back against your chair as you finally feel him where you’ve been needing him most. You’re so wet, he notices, parting your flesh. Wet enough that as he touches you lightly, just teasing, your cunt makes sticky, lewd noises for him. He dips a finger inside you, circles your clit with his thumb to see what he’s working with. He wants to know how easily you moan, how he can make you whimper. He wants to find out just how sensitive you are really. You’re loud, despite your fighting to keep quiet. Roman hushes you, “Shhhh. Are you always this loud? Or is it just for me?”
You’re already close and he knows this by the way your clit twitches under his thumb, how your cunt is beginning to pulse and squeeze his knuckles. “Just for me,” he mumbles under his breath. He clears his throat before speaking, “One - one little caveat though, sweetheart, and I think you’ll wanna listen.”
“I’m listening,” you rasp. Roman’s movements never falter, but you’re not even conscious of the way you’re frantically holding his wrist. Don’t stop, don’t stop.
“If you come, you’re not getting a raise.”
You lift your head to look at Roman. “What?”
“What?” He mocks you. “Yeah,” he says, “Double or nothing. I’ll double your ask if you’re good and if you don’t come. Or - er…I mean, you’re getting one and a half percent, and a jump to ten would be…” Roman does the math in his head, “Like, six point six repeating. So technically, sextuple or nothing but fucking…whatever. Isn’t that fitting, sextuple?”
“Roman–”
“You come on my fingers, tongue, cock and you get…nothing at all. It’s a game, it’s a fun game. Fun for me, at least.”
Roman continues to tease you. You stare at him for a moment, when the eye contact becomes too intense you drop your eyes to your lap, staring at the fabric of your skirt that dances with his movements.
“Look–” he says, “You can tap out if you want. Take your one and a half percent and be on your way. You know I’m not gonna force you to do anything.”
Roman changes the angle a bit, curls his fingers until he finds that spot that makes you gasp and shudder. He hums in amusement as you squirm and bite back a moan. “Roman, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” you pant, “I need a second, Roman.”
Roman stops, to your surprise. You didn’t really expect him to. “Works out, actually, because I need a moment to think about what I’m gonna do to you. On your knees for me, sweetheart, come on,” He reaches to help you move, your slick on his fingertips now on your legs. Once you’re on your knees for him, just how he wanted. He pumps his cock a couple of times and reaches with his free hand to take you by the chin, guiding you to where he wants you. “There you go - good girl. Good girl.”
He keeps a hand on your head, urging you lower until the tip of his cock breaches your lips. You swirl your tongue around the head a couple of times to tease him, but Roman doesn’t have it. “Nuh-uh, cut that out. No teasing, down you go,” he says, pushing your head down on his cock. “Down. Hand goes here,” Roman reaches for one of your hands and spits in it before guiding it to the base of his cock where he wraps his fingers around yours. He twists your hand for you as he keeps a firm pressure on your scalp, encouraging you to take him deep. You whimper and sputter on his cock, it’s too much yet. He’s thick and long, filling your mouth entirely. “Can’t, Roman, it’s too much,” you whine.
“Oh, come on. Yes you can,” Roman pushes himself into your mouth once more, controlling the pace to his liking though it’s still too much for you and he knows it, he can feel it when he bucks his hips, cock hitting the back of your throat and you gag. “I think you’ll get used to it.”
But you don’t. Roman fucks himself deep into your mouth and your eyes prick with tears, your jaw is so sore already. You wonder if he’s even thinking about what he’s gonna do to you, like he said he would. He doesn’t appear to be, not with the way his eyes are rolling back and his brows are furrowed together as he moans softly. He squeezes your hand, reminding you to put it to use. “Look at you,” he says, holding the side of your face and skating his thumb over your cheekbone, you’d almost call it tender. “God, you’re good at this. I think you’re made for this, don’t you?” You bob your head, trace your tongue along the veins of his shaft and Roman answers his own question, “You are.”
Your jaw is still sore with the newness of it all, but you’re finally about used to the feeling when Roman pulls you off of his cock. His eyes are bright and excited, he wears a mischievous smirk as he pulls on your swollen, wet lips with his thumb. Roman takes your hands and pulls you to your feet at the same time as he stands up from his chair, he leads you to his couch and sits you on the armrest as he unbuttons your shirt, unhooks your bra. He holds your torso in both of his hands, breathing heavily as they travel up, up, where he cups your breasts, teasing your nipples with his fingers. Pinching and rolling one, flicking the other. “You are sensitive, aren’t you? I bet I could make you come like this. Maybe I’ll try.”
“Roman, please don’t.”
Roman tilts his head in amusement. “Really not your call, but I won’t, sweetheart. Maybe next time. Open your mouth for me.”
“Rome–”
Roman reaches into his pocket and pulls out your worn panties. He stuffs them in your mouth, the cotton is rough on your tongue but you can still taste your own arousal. “I guess you’re not always so quiet, huh? Didn’t know you could make so much noise. Just had to wiggle it out of you. I’ll keep it in mind,” he comments, loosening his necktie now. Once loosened, he turns you around and presses a kiss to the blade of your shoulder. “This–” he says, tying the silk around your wrists, “Is so you can’t cheat and push me away. You are going to lie here and you are going to take what I give you, and you’re playing by the rules. No coming, I mean - not unless you wanna lose your raise. It is all up to you, my darling.” Roman pushes you down then, your face in the cushions of the couch as he pulls your hips back, putting you right where he wants you. “And don’t try lying to me, either, telling me you didn’t come. I’ll know. I know the noises you make, and I’ve watched you come. You’re very obvious.”
You let out a muffled noise of surprise at that. Roman chuckles.
“Yeah, I was waiting to see if you’d fess up to what you do on your little supply runs. Been getting off to it actually, you know? Cameras everywhere. You put on a nice little show for me.”
Well, fuck. Cat’s out of the bag. Has been actually, if Roman’s telling the truth, and you know he is.
“Yeah, no. It was odd. It was last week, and you were in my office doing whatever it is that you do. And then I came in all sweaty from my workout, I don’t know. You gave me this sort of deer in the headlights look and ran off, something about needing new Sharpies. And I just found it odd for just a…just a couple of reasons, you know? Like one, I like Sharpies, those slutty little pens. So I keep them around, and two, you have an iPad. You don’t use Sharpies.” Roman finds the zipper on the side of your skirt, pulls it down slowly before pulling the skirt off of you entirely, tossing it behind him. You’re bare for him now, all exposed and your arms tied tightly behind you. “So I mosey on down to security, and I’m just curious. Naturally, of course. I take a seat and I flip through the channels until I find you in your closet and sure as shit, you’re fucking yourself. And those cameras have mics too, so I hear everything. Roman, oh Roman,” he mocks. “That was my favorite part. All pathetic and desperate for me, music to my ears. I must really do it for you, don’t I? When I’m all sweaty and gross. You’re a freak, huh? My favorite little pornstar, and you didn’t even know it.”
You feel him move behind you, anticipating the feeling of his cock breaching your entrance. But the feeling never comes. Instead, you hear the small crack of his joints as Roman kneels behind you. You let out a muffled gasp when you finally feel him touch you, his big hands squeezing your ass cheeks before he spreads you apart, spitting on your hole. How vulnerable you must feel, Roman wonders. He wonders how much you trust him, if at all. Now you’re gonna have to.
You first feel his tongue circling your tight hole, then he presses a few kisses there, all wet and sloppy. He dips his tongue inside you and you squirm a bit at the unfamiliar sensation. It’s different and unexpected, especially coming from Roman.
He pulls away from you momentarily, “I know. I promise I’ll get you off soon,” and you feel him smirking against you before swirling his tongue one last time around your hole, and then his lips travel lower. He’s kissing at your slick folds now, dipping his tongue inside your wet heat as he inhales you, your sweet arousal. He traces you with his tongue, just for fun, just for a moment before finding your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud.
He doesn’t eat you the way he should. He doesn’t savor you, there’s no love in it. Passion, determination, sure - but no love. His tongue and lips on your clit is not something he’s doing for you, it’s something he’s doing to you, for his own amusement. It’s all aggression, all fingernails cutting into your skin under his bruising grip, a relentless assault on your sex. His scruff scratches your inner thighs and rubs you raw, you’ll be feeling him for days after, skin burning under the lather of your lavender scented soap in the shower. And worst of all, you fucking love it. There’s nothing you can do about it, and you fucking love it. Even in your fantasies, all those midday supply closet visits, you always knew it’d be like this. No tenderness or adoration, not from broken Roman and certainly not like this. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
You’re moaning something but you don’t know what, not with your own panties shoved down your throat. Roman thinks it’s his name, he thinks he can hear the two syllables. He keeps you still, held tight in his grip so that you can’t writhe and grind against his mouth and take control of your pleasure like he knows you’re trying to do. Like Roman said, you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna feel his perfect, pointed nose tease that space he just fucked with his tongue. Feel his lips lap at your poor, swollen clit. He eats you voraciously, consumes you whole and you’re beginning to see stars.
Roman intently listens to all those different noises you’re making. Muffled cries and those wet, lewd sounds of your cunt being licked, sucked, kissed, lapped. And he can feel your thighs twitching with your impending release, “Don’t come,” he reminds you in a singsong tone. “I’m not gonna stop this time. Don’t come.”
Your groan of frustration is muffled too, but unmistakable all the same. Only when Roman’s jaw and his tongue begin to tire does he finally relent, pulling away from your body but not before he kisses and bites your ass cheek right where it meets your thigh. Roman stands then, pumps his cock a couple of times with his fist before he lines up with your entrance, notching himself inside you. He offers no warning before burying himself in you unceremoniously, splitting you in two. You cry out, balling your bound fists. In a small gesture of kindness, Roman reaches for your hands and squeezes, rubs his thumb comfortingly over your palm as he allows you just a moment to get used to the stretch and the ache. When the tension dissipates and your fingers relax, he pulls out of you all the way and pushes himself right back in, even harder and faster than before. “God, you’re fuckin’ tight.”
He fucks you slow at first, searching for the right pace and angle to make you squirm. You arch your back and keen into the sensation, then quickly pull away as you realize you’ve given him another tell. But Roman’s attentive. With your sweet spot now in mind, he sets a quick pace with a zealous snapping of his hips, his neatly trimmed tuft of pubic hair rubs against your ass. He works a hand between you and his couch, pressing his fingertips against your clit and using his thrusts to stimulate it. He gives you his all and you can do nothing but take it, take him. “Fuck,” he pants, circling your asshole with his thumb before pressing it inside. “Oh, fuck. Tough nut to crack, aren’t you? I’ll get there. I’ll break you, just you wait.”
It’s not easy, and knowing what you’re not supposed to do. And it’s what Roman’s not trying to do that makes it all the more impossible. He’s fucking loud, all whines and groans and swears. And you’ve heard it all before from his mouth, but the way he strings it together has you dizzy. ‘Oh, fuck’ followed by a moan and another ‘Fuck’. Heavy breathing, ‘Such a good girl’ and a sharp inhale. Your panties feel extra obnoxious in your mouth now, knowing how much noise he makes himself. Glass houses, you think. Roman pulls out of you and flips you over so you’re face to face with him and then he’s right back at it, entering you once more and thumbing your clit just like he did in the chair. He’s glad he did so, learned what kind of tight circles to paint your clit with to make you moan loudest.
It’s sensitive and you’re right there, aching for release you know you shouldn’t allow yourself. It’s a constant fight, a push and pull between indulging in your pleasure and trying your hardest to block it out. You can’t quite read his expression when Roman notices your tear stained eyes, but he pulls your spit-soaked panties from your mouth and wipes your wet cheeks.
“You’re fine. You can take it,” he encourages. He pulls you closer so that you’re face to face, chest to chest, holding you tightly against himself. “It’s a lot, I know. You’re doing good.”
“Oh, Roman,” you moan, your eyes knit shut as you lean forward and bite into his neck to subdue your cries of pleasure. It helps to stave off your impending release.
“Oh, you bite hard,” Roman taunts, “Do what you need to do, whatever you think will work.”
It doesn’t work. He continues to round your clit with his thumb as he rolls his hips into yours and you know it and he knows it. Your breaths are shallow, your moans are strangled and you’re squirming. You’re so fucking close.
“It’s gonna happen, isn’t it? And you can’t do a fucking thing about it, can you?” Roman goads, “You gonna come for me?”
“No,” you whimper.
“Oh, come on. Just let go. You know I’m gonna get it out of you, one way or another. So quit torturing yourself, just let go for me. Hey–” he pulls back to look you in the eyes, stroking your back with one of his hands and his voice is kind, saccharine. “Just let go.” Roman nods, eyebrows raised as he searches for your confirmation. When you nod back, Roman smiles. He’s got you in the palm of his hand.
It’s a just few seconds of Roman teasing your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you deeply. And then you’re there, and god is it intense. You shake and stutter in Roman’s arms, and you’re certain you’re breaking into pieces, he’s just holding you together and thank god for that. Roman’s jaw twitches and he’s about to come undone with you, but he never loses focus on you. You’re gonna give him everything you have and he’s gonna make sure of it.
“Roman, Roman, Roman,” you cry. “Oh my god, Roman, please.”
“Fuck me,” he hisses. It’s too much and too sensitive as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release. He comes with a whine, painting your insides with his hot come before his thrusts slow to a still. Roman pulls out of you slowly, groaning as he does so. His come spills onto the expensive upholstery of his couch, but he doesn’t seem bothered. He’s still close to you as he fumbles with the knot of his necktie holding your wrists together. You can smell him, the fresh sweat and faint cologne. When he unties you, you rub your irritated wrists in your hands, doing your best to process what just happened. You dress yourselves silently, the rustling and swishing of your clothes, the clinking of Roman’s belt buckle are the only sounds in the room.
The ripping up of papers startles you. Roman crumples the shredded papers that discussed your raise and tosses them in his trash can. Dramatic. You watch as he does so, your heart dropping. “Don’t start with the waterworks. You came on my cock, you knew the rules. This is on you,” he says, “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You’re fucking fine. Everything’s fine, okay?”
-
It’s been about two weeks since your encounter with Roman. You’ve avoided him as much as one in your position can do, though it’s not easy. You use a variety of techniques, grey rocking, silent treatment. It doesn’t seem to deter him much.
Artie sits in his carrier as you pull out your wallet to pay for what’s probably his last treatment. You can’t help but feel so selfish, so consumed by guilt.
“Oh–” the vet’s office receptionist says, “It’s been paid for already. You guys are good to go.”
“Oh no, that can’t be right. Here–” you hand her your card.
But the receptionist doesn’t take it. “It is, actually. There’s a credit on your account.”
“What?”
“Yeah, someone called a couple of weeks ago and put a substantial credit on your account. You’re good for a long time.”
“Who?”
The receptionist shrugs, “Anonymous donor. They left a message though, if that helps.”
“What’d they say?”
“Uhmm,” the receptionist blushes and stutters. Instead of answering you verbally, she turns her monitor around to show you.
“For my favorite pornstar and her cat. Take care of him. -R”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a nice comment <3 your words keep me motivated.
#strang3lov3#roman roy x reader smut#roman roy smut#Roman Roy x reader#roman roy x you#Roman Roy#succession x reader#succession fic#succession#kieran culkin
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This Must Be The Place: Chapter 7 - Make it up as we go along
Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader
Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Bit of assault towards Bucky (but not enough to hurt him), a just a note that this probably isn't the healthiest dynamic...
Ah surprise chapter drop! Hope you enjoy. I probably won't be able to post again until monday now. As always, I appreciate your lovely reblogs and comments. I'm so glad people are engaging with this series and I hope you continue to enjoy it!! I’m afraid I don’t have a taglist for this series, I don’t use them as I’ve had technical issues with them in the past. Sorry!
(gif not reflective of how reader looks)
You knew he was right – you needed to clear the air, and fix whatever the hell was going on between you both (if anything). But you couldn’t resist being petty, lashing out after his poor treatment of you earlier. Granny always said be the bigger person…but she was a far better than woman than you.
“Sorry. Can’t. Not on the clock,” you shot back at him as you unlocked the car.
You opened the car door and his arm moved to your shoulder, holding you firmly to stop you from getting in. You held strong, not letting his touch melt you.
“Fine. I deserve that,” he said gruffly, “but I really do want to talk to you. Please”.
The softness in his voice caught you off guard and you found you were annoyed by the sudden wobble of weakness you felt. No! STRENGTH!
You sighed heavily. “Alright. Step into my office,” you gestured to the car.
You slipped into the driver’s seat as he dropped his hold from your arm, then he followed suit by getting into the passenger seat alongside you. The Mustang’s passenger seat looked almost comically small with his big bulk spread across it.
He turned to look at you, face perfectly illuminated by the parking lot lamps. It wasn’t fair that anyone could possibly look so hot in fluorescent lighting.
“This is a nice car,” he said admiringly as he looked around the interior.
“I know” you replied curtly. “She’s my girl”.
“What’s her name?”
“Sally”.
He blinked at you.
“Mustang…Sally? Really?”
You folded your arms defiantly. “Is that a problem?”
“No…no…it’s not…” but you could see in his face he was trying to hold back one of those stupid smirks.
“If you’ve come here to make fun of me you can get the hell out…”
“No! I haven’t. Christ. It’s just funny…that’s all. It’s…cute”.
“Shut up, James”.
“Ohhh…you found that out, huh?” he grinned wickedly. “Well joke’s on you, cos I like you saying it…”
You took a second to scowl and him, then stared ahead out of the windshield with your arms crossed, hoping you looked more mysterious stranger than you did tantruming toddler. The two of you sat uncomfortably in the resulting silence.
“I’ve been an ass,” he told you, his eyes intense.
“Yes, you fucking have” you growled back at him.
“I’m sorry…really-”
“Look…Bucky,” you interrupted him aggressively. “I get it, we kissed. It didn’t mean anything to you. Fine. Whatever. But you didn’t have to ignore me…you didn’t have to parade Amber around in front of me like-”
“Sugar…”
“No! I mean how hard would it have been to drop me a text? Or tell me you made a mistake? Literally anything…”
“Sug…can I speak-”
“I’m not some random girl in a bar, Bucky! You can’t just ignore me. We work together. You’re my boss. You can’t just lay one on me and act like I don’t exist and-”
“Sugar! I’m trying to explain myself here!!” he barked, but you seemed to be on a roll…the floodgates were open.
“And another thing! Why are you getting aggressive about me meeting guys?? I can date who I like! You don’t get to be angry, especially when-MMPH!”
Bucky had clamped his large metal hand over your mouth, quite literally silencing you. Your eyes widened in shock; his tactic must’ve worked because you were briefly stunned into submission.
“I’m sorry…that was rash of me, but I literally can’t get a word in edgewise…” he told you gently, his voice quiet as if trying to talk down a spooked horse. “If you’d just let me-”
You yelped and shrieked as you wrenched his hand from your mouth in disbelief.
“What the FUCK was that?” you squawked as you struck him on the shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt, if you even could hurt him, but hard enough for him to curse and utter your name in incredulity.
Suddenly you were climbing over the seat and swatting at him, your anger boiling over. The inevitable purge after holding everything in all night. You knew it must’ve looked funny as he was so much larger than you, but your anger outweighed any self-consciousness.
“What. The. Fuck” you cried out, punctuating each word with a thwack to Bucky’s torso as he swore and tried to shuffle back, but the lack of space in the car meant he had nowhere to go. He just bumped into the passenger window as he exclaimed at you.
He quickly became tired of your attempted assault and wrapped his arms around yours, trapping them at your sides and effortlessly pulled you over the seats. “Alright,” he said tiredly. “Enough of that!”
Suddenly you were incapacitated in his hold, essentially straddling his lap as you voiced your outrage and tried to wriggle out of his hold.
“Bucky! What the-”
“You wouldn’t stop hitting me and shouting in my face! Jesus! Do you have any idea what a menace you are?”
The two of you squabbled for a little longer, faces inches apart.
“If you would just listen…”
“You can’t just DO stuff like that!”
“Why do you have to fight me on every, single, thing?”
“Why can’t you just be upfront and direct with me for once?”
A sudden silence enveloped you both as if someone had flicked an off switch, the bickering now replaced with a shared penetrating stare between you the two of you. Almost nose to nose. It was as if you both realised your close proximity in the same moment.
You weren’t sure who went in first. But it didn’t matter. He freed your hands and they flew up into his hair as he kissed you roughly, and you kissed him back just as hard. It was heated, passionate but there was anger in there too. Pent up desire and rage, a deadly combination. You nipped roughly at his bottom lip with your teeth, and he hissed and retaliated by forcefully pulling you closer into him as the kisses became deeper and sloppier and your tongue was no longer yours but a separate force you couldn’t control. His hands made their way up your back, then moved back down across your waist, then he pulled you forwards and lifted your ass up and he squeezed fistfuls of it as he moaned into your mouth. Part of you wanted to slap him and call him a pervert but you were simply too caught up to do so. It was wrong but so right. You wanted to shun him and punish him, but you also couldn’t stay away from him. Damn him.
“You’re so annoying…” he murmured softly as he dotted kisses across your jawline.
“So are you…” you retorted as you rocked your hips against his lap and stretched to get more comfortable in the cramped car.
“I should’ve implemented a skirts-only uniform policy,” he growled as his hands explored the back of your jean-clad thighs.
“Stop talking,” you managed breathily before silencing him with another kiss.
He moved you further onto his lap again and you allowed him to. He was firm in his hold but never too rough. You leaned across him to pull the lever to recline the seat but in your urgency and ungainliness you managed to hit the horn with your backside, sending a loud tone that made both of you jump.
It seemed to snap you out of your stupor as you flung yourself back against the driver’s seat, your hands recoiling away from him like your fingers had been burnt.
“No…we gotta stop this,” you panted out as you regained your composure and smoothed down your mussed hair. The silence lay thick and heavy.
He sat back against his own seat looking a little bewildered. “Yeah…sorry. You’re right. I just…lost myself a little there,” he cleared his throat.
“You hurt me,” you told him meekly and unable to meet his gaze. “I feel really embarrassed. After we kissed…you didn’t get in touch. Then tonight you almost seemed annoyed I was there when you came in. And you spent the whole time with Amber, apart from when you got pissed at me for talking to another guy”.
You chewed your lip, mortified by your own vulnerability. But you were glad you finally said it out loud. It was the most honest thing you’d ever said to him.
You could see him nodding in your periphery. “I’m sorry, Sug,” he said quietly.
He took a deep breath. “That kiss…it did mean something to me you know”.
You finally turned to look at him, surprised by his admission. “What?”
He looked back at you. He seemed…smaller, somehow. “Of course it did,” he continued. “We both felt it, didn’t we? This thing between us. I feel a little crazy around you. You’re like this…brilliant woman. Smart and funny…makes the meanest spicy ‘marg for hundreds of miles,” he grinned.
Even you couldn’t stifle a chuckle at that.
“You also get under my skin in a way nobody else does. You make me so mad. But I can’t help being near you. And when you got hurt that night…I was so angry. Angry at myself for not protecting you. Angry at you for mouthing off and not getting help. I guess…I guess it sorta pushed me to finally make a move…and then Sam interrupted and…” he sighed “Fuck. I don’t know. I suddenly felt bad. I shouldn’t be hitting on my staff. Especially injured staff…”
“Yeah…but I wanted it too, Bucky. You know I did…”
“I know…But…I dunno, I wouldn’t want you to ever think I was taking advantage”.
You swallowed, absorbing everything he’d just told you. Yeah…that was reasonable. He was your boss after all and there was always going to be a weird power dynamic there, but you still had more questions than answers.
“Bucky…” you started quietly. “If you wanted the kiss…Why did you disappear? I didn’t hear from you…and then tonight…”
He interrupted you with a noise of frustration, but seemingly towards himself rather than you.
“Alright…look. This…well, there’s no way of spinning any of this that makes me look good here, alright? But I want to be honest with you…I’m not going to lie to you”.
You nodded, grateful for his candour but uneasy about what he might say. You stiffened but still turned to him and gave him your full attention.
“Okay…so. Like I said, I wanted the kiss. And I’m glad it happened. And I was gonna text…call…and I almost did so many times, I had your contact open on my phone and everything…but I guess…I panicked a little”.
“Panicked?”
“Yeah…I mean,” he sighed. “Because I really like you. And I’m not used to that. And on top of that, I’m your boss. And…you’re leaving town soon anyway. And…our relationship is sorta, volatile? I guess? I admit this is fucked up and chicken shit of me, but I kinda freaked out. I suppose I worried that if I jumped headfirst into something with you, it might be a mess. Or worse, I might fall hard, and it would be that much harder to see you go when the time came. I know you might think this is me taking the easy way out to give you the brush off…but it’s the truth”.
You sat in silence at his admission, eyes wide and lips parted. You were surprised at how open he was. The two of you had never really done ‘direct communication’ before…and it was eye opening to say the least. You knew deep down you agreed, you already knew that finally saying goodbye to him would be tough…you didn’t want to make it any tougher.
“I still shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. I’m sorry,” he told you with sincerity. “I’m not…good at this stuff”.
“And what about you and Amber? I mean the two of you…”
He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Look…there is no me and Amber…”
“But-” you interrupted harshly. “I’ve seen you..”
“No. Seriously, it’s the truth,” he explained as he ran a hand through his hair. “Amber is cute. She’s fun. Again, I won’t lie to you – we’ve fooled around in the past. But I’m not interested in pursuing anything with her. She knows that, I’ve never lied to her about that. But she tries. And I do care for her. But it’s just messing around. We flirt and it’s fun, and I know it might look I lead her on, but I consistently remind her where I stand. I guess maybe she’s hoping I’ll change my mind? I don’t want to outright ban her from the bar…but she turns up…and some of the guys are involved with her friends…and I guess I’m too clumsy to give the situation the care it deserves because I don’t want to give her false hope, but I don’t want to be outright mean to her either. I know you probably think I’m just some meathead biker juggling girls, but I don’t like hurting people who don’t deserve it”.
You noted the concern in his voice. He really did seem to care about handling it right, even if he wasn’t very good at it. But you remembered the extent of tonight and rolled your eyes.
“C’mon Bucky…that’s all very well and good…but she was sitting in your damn lap this evening. So you’re not exactly taking a hard line with her….” You scowled.
“Yeah…and did you see the part where I rolled my eyes and moved her away?”
“Oh, come on…”
“It’s true! I told her to back off, but you’d disappeared…”
“Don’t insult me…”
“I’m not, it’s the truth!” He frowned. “Okay, fine, maybe I need to be stricter with her. We’ve just been doing this back and forth for so long I sometimes forget how it must look…”
“Poor little you…”
“Oh, don’t give me that. What about you, huh? Flirting and giving out your number in front of me?”
“That’s different! You were ignoring me…I thought you’d knocked me back!”
“I saw that message was from Wanda but you made out it wasn’t…I know what you were doing. You were enjoying me being jealous…And yes, obviously I was jealous, so don’t think make a whole thing of it”.
You stopped suddenly, your cheeks feeling hot as he’d caught you out in your game. “Oops. Um…okay. Fine…”
You both sat quietly until he spoke again.
“I guess both of us have played a part in this, not being upfront with the other about how we feel”.
“Yeah…” you sighed. “That’s true enough…I’m still mad, though”.
“That’s okay. I deserve it”.
He nudged you playfully and you couldn’t help but crack a smile. Damn him.
“Look…given how much drama there’s been already between us…Maybe we should just call it, put a stop to this thing and stay just friends and colleagues. Have quieter lives as a result,” you offered, unable to mask the melancholy in your voice.
He nodded. “Yeah…that probably is for the best”.
You felt sad…but you knew it was the right move. All this drama and angst and you’d only shared a few kisses. Imagine how much worse it would get? What if you’d slept together?? And he was right earlier, this whole thing did have an expiration date. You didn’t want to have to quit your job even if it was temporary. You didn’t want to leave on bad terms because you were banging your boss, or because you were insecure about who else he was banging. It all came back to the same bottom line…you didn’t need this in your life. Not now. Not with Granny’s house.
This was for the best. This was a mature decision. This was growth.
Wait.
Wait.
Why is he looking at you like that…?
What is he….oh.
Uh oh.
“Bucky…” you pleaded softly, but his mouth was already on yours.
“Just friends,” he mumbled into your mouth.
“Just friends,” you whispered against his.
Shit.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes#this must be the place fic#biker!bucky#motorcycle club au bucky
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Respect - Part 2 (Alt)
Hi 👋 I made an alternative version of part 2. A big more dramatic 👍
GOJO X READER! ANGST
You stepped out of the passenger’s side seat of the car. Taking a moment to stare at the place you used to call home. It’s been years since you’ve last visited, but it’s good to be back.
“I’m home,” you said to yourself.
“Yaga, did you really need me to come back? Or did you just miss me?” You smiled. “Please stay professional (Y/N),” your former teacher said. “Ok, ok, I apologize,” you replied. “Now I asked you to stop by because we need you to share some important information to the council back in America,” he explained.
“Important information?” You asked as you followed him to his office. “Yes, and I would explain it… but there’s someone here that could do a better job,” he coughed. “Oh ok, who is it?” You asked. “Well…” he trailed off.
“Oh god, don’t tell me…” you sighed, before Yaga opened the door to his office. You silently walked in and there he was. Sitting in Yaga’s chair with his feet propped up on the desk. “Hey (Y/N)~,” he cooed. “Hello Gojo,” you forced a smile. “Formalities? That’s how you act after coming back from ditching me so long ago?” he asked, with a smug tone.
You rolled your eyes, and sat in a seat across from Yaga’s desk. “After so many years… and still so childish,” you muttered under your breath. “What was that?” He asked as he dropped his feet from the table and scooted closer. “That’s enough Satoru,” Yaga said as he walked over and lifted Gojo up from his collar. He walked Gojo over to the other seat, where he quickly sat down.
“It must be hard, to have to babysit so many sorcerers,” you smiled. “Babysit?!” Gojo shouted. “It is,” Yaga added. “Don’t agree with her,” Gojo groaned. “Alright, enough distractions. Now explain to her the situation,” Yaga said.
“I’m not telling her anything,” he huffed. “Are you serious? Stop pouting and tell me already,” you said, very annoyed. “Why does she have to know anyways? She’s not a part of Jujutsu High… she renounced that the day she left m- us behind…” he frowned as he crossed his arms. “That’s it! Either explain the situation or I’ll just have her meet him!” Yaga boomed as he slammed his fist onto his desk.
Gojo stayed silent as he folded his arms in protest. “This is insane, just show me the damn files that are on your desk. I don’t have time for this!” You yelled as you snatched the folder from the desk. “Hey!” Gojo shouted.
You quickly began scanning the pages. Before he could grab the papers out of your hands, you quickly tossed them back on Yaga’s desk. You turned to look at Gojo, “You're harboring the entity of Sukuna in a teenage boy?” You asked slowly.
“Well we were originally going to kill him, but he agreed to my deal…” he said. “Deal?” You asked. “Either kill him now or later…” he said slowly. “After he’s consumed all of Sukuna’s soul?” You asked. “Bingo,” he sighed as he plopped back onto his seat. “And you’re just going along with this?” I asked Yaga.
“That’s another reason why I asked you to come back…” he responded. You looked at them, confused. “(Y/N), you’re one of the best sorcerers-“ Yaga was cut off by Gojo’s scoff. “But, we’d like to know if you think this is a good idea or not. Restoring Sukuna, we’d need multiple sorcerers who can defeat him, would you assist us in this plan?” Yaga asked. “This is stupid… I can easily stop Sukuna on my own. I did it the other night easily,” he groaned.
“That’s when he was first reinstated, I imagine… stop being difficult. It would take a few of us to stop him at his prime. On your own… you could end up hurt… or worse,” you said as you bit your lip, trying to process the whole situation.
“Take your time, we don’t need an answer now,” Yaga said. “Like I said, her being here was a waste of
time. How do you know she won’t just ditch us again if things get too rough?” Gojo scoffed. “Satoru!” Yaga boomed. “I’m just saying… She left when things became inconvenient to her. It doesn’t matter how much she cares about someone or how nice she pretends to be, underneath she’s just a sad, selfish person who only thinks of themselves,” he spat.
“Is that really what you think happened?” You asked. He completely ignored your question, “Fine then, since there’s no need for me here I’ll be going. No point in wasting my time here any longer…” you said softly as you stood up and left the room. “(Y/N)!” You heard Yaga call out, but you continued down the hallway. “Go get her!” You heard faintly.
You walked out the school doors and down the stairs to the main gate. Before reaching the gate you felt a presence behind you, but you ignored it. Placing your hand on the gate, a hand stopped you. “Wait…” he said.
You stayed put, your eyes not leaving his hand on yours. “Don’t go… I’m… I’m sorry,” he said softly. “You think a little apology is going to make me agree to your plans? Guess you’re the one that never changed,” you said as you tried pushing on the gate.
Before doing so you were spun around, forced to face him. “I said I’m sorry!” He said loudly. “And I don’t give a fuck! I think it’s laughable how you’re the one who’s upset! When you’re the reason why I left!” You shouted. “Why?! I didn’t do anything wrong! You were the one who became so upset over something so stu-“ you cut him off with a slap to his cheek.
“Yes you did! Yes you fucking did! Oh my god, you’d think that after so many years you would finally understand what went wrong between us. You never treated me right, that last incident at the dress store was my last straw! That was one, out of the millions of other bullshit that I had to put up with… because I-I… actually loved you,” you said as you felt hot tears welling up in your eyes.
“So don’t you fucking dare, try to turn this whole ‘us not working out’ on me. When it was you who never learned how to actually care about me,” you glared. “That’s why I left…” you trailed off as you stared at the red mark staining his face. “Tell me then,” he said softly.
“How was I supposed to face someone who never really cared or respected me? If I… if I didn’t leave I would’ve just ended up getting hurt again. So yes, I’m selfish! I left because I never wanted to get hurt again… And today is just another example of how you only think of yourself. After all these years you still think that I just overreacted and ran away… but it was you who pushed me to the edge,” you spat as you hit his chest. You quickly wiped away any fallen tears and looked up to see his blue eyes.
You didn’t notice when he removed his bandana, “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “You’re right… I just… I just didn’t want to accept it. I always knew that I was the one who messed everything up, but when you left I just got so angry because… you left me,” he said as he quickly pulled you into a hug.
“When you left back to the dorms I wanted to make it up to you, so I bought you your favorite dessert and flowers… but when I got back you were already gone… You didn’t even give me a chance to apologize,” he said softly. “I know… I thought about that when I left. I would wonder how it would be if I stayed…” you confessed.
“But seeing you now… I was excited but angry… Angry that you abandoned me and now you’re popping up like nothing happened,” he said as he loosened his grip. He stared into your eyes, “I’m sorry… I know I can’t take back what I did or said, but… I still care about you,” he said as he cupped your face.
“You have a weird way of showing it…” you forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah… guess you were right, I guess I still haven’t changed,” he said, before leaning closer to your lips.
You quickly placed a finger to his lips. “We shouldn’t be doing this… you can’t just…” you trailed off, pulling yourself out of his arms. “What?” He asked as he reached for you. “You can’t just come back into my life again, and try to start over so easily… Even if you do understand your mistakes, I can’t just forgive you,” you explained.
“Besides… you said a lot of crappy things in Yaga’s office, or did you forget? I can’t go back to just forgiving you, and putting up with you again…” you said as you took more steps away from him. “But-“ you cut him off. “No, I’m sorry but I can’t-“ you said as you turned away, pushing on the gates to open. “Goodb-“ you felt a hand grab your arm.
You were pulled back, turned and felt an arm wrap around your lower back. “S-Sato-“ you were cut off by his lips pressing onto yours. You pushed lightly at his chest, but this made him deepen the kiss even further.
You felt your legs becoming unsteady, and your ears burning. He finally pulled away, “Please… you can’t lie to me and say you don’t feel anything anymore!” He pleaded. What should you do?
You stared into his deep blue eyes, perplexed on your feelings for him. “I… I- I can’t. A kiss can’t make me change my mind so easily… I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I won’t do this…” you said as you pushed him off of you. Racing towards the gate, and shutting them behind you. You turned and noticed him staring at you from behind the gate.
You slowly continued walking away until you heard, “So you’re running away again?” You stopped in your tracks. “I’m not running away,” you said as you turned around to face him. “But you’re not giving me another chance?” He asked as he walked towards the gate. “I never said that…” you trailed off. “Then what are you saying?” He asked.
“I’m saying a kiss doesn’t change anything,” You shook your head. You slowly turned on your heels and began walking away. “(Y/N)!” He called out.
“Tell Yaga to go forward with your plan! And you better not die while you collect the rest of the fragments…” you said as you headed towards your car.
Leaving Satoru once again… but you’ll be back.
#anime fanfic#fanfic#fluff#x reader#anime#jjk angst#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen#gojo angst#gojo fluff#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x y/n#jjk satoru#satoru x reader#jujutsu satoru
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Black swan (part one)
tws: mentions of sex? anakin is a little shithead, some misogynistic undertones from anakin cuz yk he’s a man after all, this is probably badly written cuz I haven’t wrote in a while :( use of y/n and pet names, anakin is a virgin are we suprised no
A/n: this has been a idea sitting in my drafts for MONTHS and I finally got the motivation to finish it.
Summary: You’re assigned a mission on Naboo to protect the senator, and so is your old friend you haven’t spoken to in four years.
Anakin is the black swan to your white swan. not in a bad way. Well, that’s what you think. ever since you were younglings in the temple, he always got you in trouble. Your master, Master windu, or master window as anakin calls him, never liked anakin. Anakin always got you into rather difficult situations to get out of. But the two of you were inseparable. Up until the age of 15.
Anakin couldn’t control himself, you’re innocent, and anakin couldn’t keep up with his teenage hormones. the only time you two ever talked in the span of ages 15-18 were when absolutely necessary. Even in the most dangerous situations, whenever he looked at you, he got hard as a damn rock. He avoided you at all costs. Any time you came up to him to try and start a conversation, he would pretend he didn’t hear you and walk away.
it’s been four years now since anakin stopped talking to you, and obviously you moved on, but you always wonder what made him stop talking to you. Maybe your master told anakin to leave you alone, I mean, he did always get you into trouble.
“Y/n” master windus voice comes from your com link. “yes, master?” You reply. “You’ve been assigned a mission. come to the council chambers.” He says in a uninterested and monotone voice, as usual. “Yes, master. I’ll be there.” You say, he hangs up and you groan. Seriously, a mission? you know you’re a padawan now, but it seems like the council has been putting you on missions 24/7 now. You put your light brown robes, grabbing your lightsaber before leaving your quarters.
You head to the council chamber and bow your head. “Greetings, Young Y/L/N” Master Windu says. “You have been assigned a mission on Naboo to protect senator Amidala, and—“
“Im sorry, im late—“ someone says, entering the chambers. you turn around to see a familiar face. Anakin Skywalker. he looks so much older now, so much more— you stop your thoughts. You’re a Jedi, you can’t think of such things! Anakin lays his eyes on you and blushes, smirking slightly. Obi wan notices this and glares at him.
“I apologize for our tardiness.” Master kenobi says, looking away from anakin. “I had to search around the entire temple to find my padawan dozing off in the training room.” anakin narrows his eyes at his master, a frown on his tan and now flushed face, “excuse me—“
“As I was saying.” Master windu interrupts him, “Y/L/N, skywalker will be accompanying you on a mission to track down a assassin on Naboo that has been threatening Senetor amidalas life. You’ll be staying at a lakehouse to watch over the senetor”
“yes, master windu .” you and anakin say at the same time.
“You two will be alone on this mission, not accompanied by me or Master windu. Don’t be foolish. Stay on Naboo. I’m taking to you, anakin.” Master kenobi says, targeted at his misbehaving padawan. Anakin rolls his eyes and the meeting concludes.
Seriously, im stuck on a mission with him? You think to yourself as you and anakin leave the chambers to leave for the mission.
Anakin finally breaks the silence when you make it to the small ship. “Have you been on a mission without your master before?” He asks nervously, trying to make small talk. You shake your head. Anakin nods, “well, at least you have me.” he smiles. You both laugh and get into the ship. “You know how to fly, right?” You ask. Anakin smirks and sits in the piolets seat. Anakin chuckles, “Of course I do, i can do anything.”
you shake your head, “you’re arrogant, you know that ani?”
“Is that really a bad thing, angel?” He says as you take off.
this is gonna be a long trip, isn’t it?
#Spotify#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker smut#anakin x reader#aotc anakin#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin fic
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still thinking about the recent news of the elephant in thailand who ripped his mahout in half after being overworked in a plantation and i’m like- GOOD JOB
#;;Oυт σƒ Jαzz#;;tbd#[ very angry that elephants are considered sacred in countries like thailand AND india but the way they ABUSE them is ????#imagine how ill-treated that elephant must have been to gore its keeper with its tusks and then rip the man in half >:| ]#[ the audacity!! u're a keeper of a creature so much bigger than u with the largest brain mass on land and u go#'eyy think i'm gonna systematically abuse this gentle sensitive intelligent creature and fuck around and find out' >:| ]#[ ALSO ]#[ DO NOT SUPPORT ELEPHANT TOURISM GUYS ]#[ 😡😡😡😡😡 ]#[ anyway#i'm fired up today bc I had to wake up at 6.30 AM this morning for a meeting with the US team#and pretend like i'm a morning bird orz#now I understand why my boss is sending emails at 4 am in the mornings#my meeting is over now so i will try to get some replies out!!#hope everyone is having a good time!! ]
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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||
A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr
Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?
You weren't one for dreams of destiny.
The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.
But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.
You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.
The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.
His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.
"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."
Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.
"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."
His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.
"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.
"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."
Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.
Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.
You were absolutely perfect.
And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.
"Do you know what I am?"
You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."
"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"
You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.
"No," you decide on hesitantly.
"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."
His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.
"In this future, I am with you."
All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.
"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.
"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."
"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"
His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.
"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"
The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.
But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.
"That's unfair."
"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."
You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.
"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."
You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.
"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."
Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.
"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."
Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.
When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.
"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.
⊹⊹⊹
From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.
The first step has been made.
══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════
#paul atreides x reader#paul atreides x you#paul atredies x reader#paul atreides imagine#dune part 2#dune#dune 2#dune x reader#dune x you#dune fanfiction#dune fandom#dune imagine#dune 2024#dune part two#dune movie#timothee x reader#timothee imagine#timothee fanfic#lisan al gaib#paul atreides#house atreides#paul atriedes#x fem reader
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To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound
Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.
He can see ghosts.
The ghosts know this.
Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.
Except for this one very stubborn dog.
It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?
And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.
He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.
Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.
Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.
Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.
Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.
And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.
(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)
Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.
Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.
And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.
(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)
Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.
Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.
Cue shitstorm.
Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?
Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he’s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.
Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.
Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.
Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.
Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.
Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!
Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.
You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?
Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.
He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.
And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.
The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.
Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.
A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.
Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.
And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.
#dcxdp#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp prompt#literally Ace is too good a boy to pass on#this veered wildly into ‘Danny emotionally adopts Damian’ but really it’s what he deserves#sometimes family is an ex child assassin an undead college student and a ghost dog#also Danny gives literally no shits during investigations because he Cannot Die#he will just casually take 40 bullets to the chest like it’s nothing#if he encounters a rogue he will beat the everloving hell out of them and then give them Jazz’s card#(she’s doing confidential therapy for vigilantes and rogues)#except for the ones who are too far gone. like the joker#he’s a bitch and Danny hates him#if given the opportunity Danny would gladly kill him but Clockwork says he’s not allowed to do that#so he settles with beating the hell out of him and then covering all his stuff in glue#and of course alerting the authorities
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Jealousy, Jealousy
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: Peeta helps Johanna unzip her dress in the elevator and it makes you jealous
Masterlist
“Can I have a hand?” Johanna asked as she turned her back to Peeta. Peeta looked at you and Haymitch for a split second before shrugging and taking ahold of her zipper.
“Oh. Sure.” He said as he pulled the zipper down her back. Your head slowly turned to Peter and you stared at him with a slack jaw. Peeta looked at you and his smile immediately dropped. He adverted his eyes as long as he could until they found their way back to the scene in front of him. Johanna was looking between you and Peeta with a smirk when she turned around to pull her sleeves off her arms. Peeta and Haymitch couldn’t help but watch her as she undressed and dropped her clothes onto the elevator floor. It appeared that you were the only one able to keep your eyes on the ceiling as Johanna stripped out of her last piece of clothing.
“Thanks. Let’s do it again sometime.” She said as the elevator doors opened. She walked into the hallway fully naked and left a silence when she left. Peeta and Haymitch chuckled and exchanged looks as the elevator went up another door. Peeta then made eye contact with you and gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. You could not believe he had just looked at her the way he did. Seeing him unzip her dress and watch her made your blood boil in your skin in a way it never had before. You were so consumed with your jealousy that you didn’t hear Peeta try to change the subject and only knew she spoke when you saw his lips move.
“What?” You asked him.
“I asked what outfit you liked the best.” Peeta repeated. “I thought District 5’s was kinda cool. But it didn’t look very comfortable.”
“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I wasn’t looking at the other tributes.” You said and eyed him up and down as the elevator doors opened on your floor.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peeta’s face scrunched in confusion as he followed you out of the elevator.
“Nothing. I’m going to sleep.” You announced and headed straight for your room.
“You’re sleeping already? Aren’t you gonna eat?” Peeta asked with concern.
“I’m not hungry.” You said without looking back.
“I can meet you on the roof in a little bit if you want to hang out.” He offered.
“Not tonight.” You replied and disappeared into your bedroom. Peeta frowned and felt disappointment sink in over not getting the night with you that he thought he’d be getting.
“Uh oh.” Haymitch chuckled as he poured himself a drink.
“What was that?” Peeta asked and gestured to where you had just been.
“That, my friend, was you getting in trouble with your lady.”
“What?” Peeta blushed at what Haymitch called you. “She’s not even my lady.”
“But she wants to be.” Haymitch said pointedly and took a long sip.
“Y/n? There’s no way. She knows I like her and she made it very clear that she just wants to be friends.” Peeta insisted.
“Peeta, I don’t really know how they do things in 12 nowadays, so let me spell things out for you. That girl wants you but she’s way too stubborn to admit it to you or even herself. She doesn’t want to tell you how she feels because she wants you to just know. And she definitely didn’t want to see you undressing another girl right in front of her.”
“I wasn’t undressing her. I just helped her unzip her…” Peeta trailed off when he saw Haymitch raise his eyebrows in amusement. He realized how bad the moment in the elevator must’ve looked to you and began to panic.
“Oh no.” Peeta gulped. “Is she really mad at me?”
“Definitely.”
“What do I do?” He whined.
“Talk to her. And prepare to get hit a couple times.” Haymitch chuckled and patted Peeta’s shoulder as he passed him. Peeta thought about it for a moment and then went up to your room to do what Haymitch said and talk to you. He knocked on your door and you opened it pretty quickly as if you were expecting him. You had ditched your parade outfit and were now in some silky yellow pajamas.
“Hey.” Peeta smiled at you.
“What do you want?” You replied, making his smile drop.
“Just to talk. And I wanted to see you.”
“I’m really tired. I’m not in the mood to talk tonight.”
“Oh, okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want. I’m tired too. We can just sleep.” Peeta offered. You usually slept in the same bed to keep the nightmares away but there was no way you were letting him in your bed after what happened in the elevator.
“I’m gonna sleep alone tonight.” You told him with a tight smile.
“Oh. Okay.” Peeta said again and felt his disappointment settle in a pit in his stomach. Your cold expression suddenly melted to one of insecurity and you looked down the hallway as if you were expecting someone else to be there.
“Are you?” You asked quietly.
“Huh? Who else would I be sleeping with?” Peeta genuinely wondered, not realizing you were asking about Johanna.
“I don’t know.” You said quickly. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. See you-“ Peeta was cut off by you closing the door in his face. He sighed and put his hand on your door before walking away.
“Tomorrow.” He mumbled.
When tomorrow came, he woke up in his lonely bed and went straight to your room. Your door was open and you weren’t inside so he assumed you already went downstairs. You weren’t there when he got to the table and let out another sigh. You were clearly avoiding him and he was not handling it very well. Peeta decided not to let it get to him and busied himself by making you a plate of all your favorite breakfast food. Haymitch watched Peeta scrambling to get back in your good graces and laughed to himself. You came down just as Peeta was finishing your plate and eyed him curiously.
“Good morning.” He greeted with you a smile.
“Morning.” You replied without looking at him.
“I made you a plate.” He said and put the plate in front of you. You stared at the plate for a minute and almost gave it and apologized for your cold behavior until you remembered the way he looked at Johanna last night. That was enough to make you lose your appetite so you pushed the plate away.
“I’m not really hungry.”
“You’re not? But you didn’t eat last night.” Peeta said worriedly as he sat beside you.
“Yes she did. For a hunter, you’re not very quiet. I could hear you rummaging for food all the way from my room.” Haymitch said to you.
“You came down to eat?” Peeta asked. “You should’ve gotten me. I would’ve kept you company.”
“Maybe I didn’t want your company.” You shrugged, making Peeta frown.
“Oh. Ice cold, sweetheart.” Haymitch chuckled. “You better watch your back in the games, Peeta. This one has death in her eyes.”
“You’re still mad at me?” Peeta whispered to you.
“Who said I’m mad at you?” You said without looking at him.
“I know you are. We usually talk on the rooftop and then sleep in the same bed. And then come down to eat breakfast together. You didn’t let me do any of those things.”
“Maybe I just need some space. We spend every hour together every single day. Excuse me for wanting some privacy for a little while.”
“We should be spending every hour together before we don’t get the chance. How long are you gonna be mad at me?”
“I already told you, I’m not mad.” You whispered harshly.
“Fine. You’re not mad. But when can we be friends again?” Peeta asked and tugged on your sleeve.
“Peeta.” You said warningly and pushed his hand away.
“Come on. I miss you.” He whined and tugged on your sleeve.
“I’m right here.” You scoffed but started to feel guilty for your behavior.
“No you’re not.” He pouted. “You’re far away.”
“Stop whining so much. You sound like my cat. And I hate that cat.”
“So you hate me now? All because I un-“
“Don’t.” You cut him off and got up from the table. You passed Effie in the hallway as you went back to your room.
“What’s going on? Y/n just told me she wants to train alone today.” Effie said as he joined the boys at the table.
“She’s mad at loverboy.” Haymitch said and pointed to Peeta.
“What did you do?” Effie asked him.
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.”
“He unzipped Johanna Masons dress in the elevator.” Haymitch tattled.
“What? Are you insane?” Effie gasped. “You can’t do something like that in front of your lady.”
“Why does everyone keep calling her my lady?” Peeta asked. “She doesn’t even like me.”
“Of course she likes you. That’s why she’s so upset. She’s jealous.” Effie laughed like it was obvious.
“Jealous? Of me and Johanna? I don’t think I even said a word to her. I just pulled the zipper.”
“It’s not about Johanna, silly. It’s about you giving attention to another girl. That’s why she’s jealous. She wants to be the one you’re unzipping.” Effie explained, making Peeta choke on the water he had just sipped. He wiped his mouth once he stopped choking and sighed.
“I need to fix this.”
“Yeah. You do. Before she makes you her first target.” Haymitch told him.
“She wouldn’t do that. Oh my God. Wait. Would she?” Peeta worried.
“She might.” Effie shrugged and Haymitch nodded in agreement.
“Well what do I do? She won’t talk to me.”
“So don’t give her a choice. Go in there and show her that she’s your only lady.” Haymitch instructed.
“What if she tells me to go away?” Peeta asked.
“Stay.” Effie answered. Peeta nodded his head and got out of his seat to go talk to you. He knocked on your door but this time, you didn’t answer. Peeta took a deep breath before opening the door and going in. You were on your bed with your knees drawn up to your chest. You gasped when he came in and threw a pillow at his head.
“What are you doing in here? Get out.”
“No. We’re talking.” Peeta said and sat on the edge of your bed.
“Well I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Too bad. Because I want to talk to you. Please? I can’t take it that you’re mad at me. I don’t want to go in the arena without hearing your voice. Can’t we just talk?” Peeta begged.
“Fine. What do you want to say?” You asked him.
“That you’re a big baby.” Peeta replied.
“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened when you didn’t get the apology you were expecting.
“You are.” He insisted. “You don’t get to be mad at me for unzipping Johanna’s dress when I didn’t even know what was happening.”
“What?” You laughed nervously. “I’m not mad at you for unzipping her dress. Why would I care about that?”
“I don’t know why you care. But I know that you’re jealous.”
“Jealous? Oh, please.” You scoffed and got off the bed to get away from Peeta.
“It’s okay to admit it.” Peeta said calmly. “I admit that I was jealous when I saw you talking to Finnick. And his giant muscles that are always out.”
“They are, aren’t they?” You smiled coyly.
“Hey.” Peeta said defensively.
“You’re the one who’s jealous. Not me.” You said and pointed to him.
“Then how come you’ve been mad at me ever since I unzipped her dress?” Peeta asked and walked over to you.
“It’s not about the dress!” You exclaimed.
“Then what is this about?” He asked. You scoffed again and folded your arms to close yourself off. Peeta wasn’t about to give up that easy and put his hands on your shoulders.
“Please tell me. I miss my friend.” He said quietly. You sighed and looked into his big sad eyes.
“I don’t care that you unzipped her dress.” You admitted. “You were just doing what she asked. I care that you were looking at her when she took her clothes off.”
“In my defense, I’ve never seen boobs before.” Peeta stated, making you laugh for second.
“Me either.”
“Not…not your own?” Peeta whispered in disbelief.
“Yes my own. Never another girls.” You explained and smacked his arm.
“Oh. I was gonna say. I know we don’t have a lot of mirrors in 12 but I think they’d be kinda hard to avoid- “
“I don’t want you looking at Johanna, okay?” You cut him off. “Or any other girls. I hated it. It made my blood feel hot and my stomach dropped to the floor. And then I couldn’t sleep because I kept replaying it in my head. What is that?”
“Thats jealousy.” Peeta explained with a pleased smile now that he knew Effie was right.
“Oh. Well I don’t want to feel it ever again. I didn’t like it.”
“Well I didn’t like when you didn’t talk to me.” Peeta said quietly.
“I’m sorry. I feel like my life is completely out of my hands lately. But you and I are the one thing I have a say in. So when it felt like our relationship was threatened, I tried to gain control by shutting you out.”
“It’s okay. I probably would’ve curled into a ball and cried right in front of you if I saw you unzip some guys pants.” He admitted, making you laugh again. You chuckled and pulled him into a hug to apologize for being so cold towards him. When you pulled out of the hug, you kept your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.
“So seeing me with Finnick really made you jealous?” You asked with a smirk.
“Yeah. I was questioning our alliance the second I heard him make you laugh.” Peeta replied, making you laugh.
“Yeah. I know the feeling.”
“Why do you think we got so jealous seeing each other around other people?” Peeta wondered. You looked down at the floor and sighed.
“I think maybe we underestimated our feelings for each other.” You admitted.
“We?” Peeta raised an eyebrow.
“Fine. I underestimated my feelings. When I saw you looking at another girl, I realized the only one I want you looking at is me.”
“As if theres anything in this world that could make me take my eyes off you.” Peeta said softly.
“Except for Johanna’s boobs.” You mumbled under your breath.
“You’re the only one I’m looking at right now.” He assured you. You smiled for a second, then frowned.
“But you’re not thinking about them, right?” You asked him.
“I’m about to if you don’t stop bringing them up.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Maybe I can take your mind off it?” You asked with a shrug.
“How?” Peeta barely got the word out before you were kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you to deepen the kiss as your hands found their way to his hair. There were no cameras and no witnesses because it was just yours.
“So we’re friends again?” Peeta asked once you pulled away.
“I don’t know. I don’t get jealous like over just my friends.” You said coyly. Peeta picked up on what you were saying and felt his face heat up. He pressed his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes.
“Good.” He said. “Because I never wanted to be just friends with you.”
#peeta mellark x reader#peeta mellark fluff#peeta mellark fanfic#peeta mellark angst#peeta mellark x you#peeta mellark whump#peeta mellark fanfiction#peeta x reader
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this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!
Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)
Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.
Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol
Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx
If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.
“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.
Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”
Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”
When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.
Unknown Number
Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…
Y/n
Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.
The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.
Unknown Number
WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?
Unknown Number
YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN
Unknown Number
If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit
Unknown Number
LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE
Unknown Number
Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder
Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.
Y/n
You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!
His response was immediate.
Unknown Number
Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?
Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.
Y/n
*Image Attached*
Y/n
I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.
The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.
Unknown Number
Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.
Unknown Number
You are very pretty tho
Y/n giggled,
Y/n
Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.
Unknown Number
Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.
Y/n
How do I know this for sure?
Unknown Number
Trust me?
Y/n
Okay, ig. What’s your name?
The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.
“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.
However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.
Unknown Number
Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?
Y/n
I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)
Y/n
Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny
🏎️
The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.
Bob!
Good morning :)
Bob!
Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?
Y/n
Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.
Bob!
GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n
Y/n
Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol
Y/n
I live in London! What about you?
Bob!
Monaco
Y/n
Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?
Bob!
NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho
Y/n
Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.
Bob!
😭
Y/n
No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces
Bob!
Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.
Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.
She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.
Y/n
Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.
Bob!
Ok! text me when you’re free?
Y/n
yesss
—
There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.
Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.
Bob!
Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!
Y/n
sry, i just got home.
Bob!
Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??
Y/n
yeah
Bob!
Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you
Y/n
that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?
Bob!
you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times
Y/n
thats love fr
Y/n
but yeah its been a long day
Bob!
oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?
Y/n
Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.
Bob!
Talk to me about it then <3
Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.
Y/n
it’s ok. Thank you tho bob
Bob!
Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?
Y/n
no one?
Bob!
you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.
Y/n
We barely know each other.
Bob!
Do i look like i care?
She laughs and types,
Y/n
Bob, I don’t even know what you look like
Bob!
We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything
Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.
Y/n
People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?
There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.
Bob!
I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.
There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.
Y/n
Thank you. That means a lot.
Bob!
Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.
Y/n
When were you experiencing it?
Bob!
A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.
Y/n
You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.
Bob!
There’s not much to tell, Y/n.
Y/n
You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?
Bob!
I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.
Y/n
VAGUE
Bob!
Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs
Her eyes twinkle,
Y/n
Haha yeah right brotha
Y/n
That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.
Bob!
Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.
Y/n
You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?
Bob!
If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha
She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.
“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.
She breathes, “Bob?”
There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.
“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.
Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”
He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”
The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”
“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”
Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.
Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.
“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.
Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”
She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”
He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”
The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.
Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.
🏎️
“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.
“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.
Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”
Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”
Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”
“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.
Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”
Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.
“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.
Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”
“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.
Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”
Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”
Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.
“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.
“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.
Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”
He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”
She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.
Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”
Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”
“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.
Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”
Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”
Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”
As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”
Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.
—
Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.
“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.
Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”
Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”
Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”
Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”
“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.
Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.
🏎️
There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.
Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.
“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?
But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.
Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.
A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.
Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.
This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.
Robert Dancing does not exist.
🏎️
Unknown
Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?
Y/n
Everything is fine.
Unknown
Can I call you now?
Y/n
I’m busy.
Unknown
It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?
Unknown
Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?
Y/n
Stop messaging me.
Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.
Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”
She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”
Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”
“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.
“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.
Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”
A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”
A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”
“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.
“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.
He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”
She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”
“Y/n, I-”
She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”
A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”
Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.
He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.
What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”
With that, she hangs up the phone.
—
Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.
No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.
“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.
A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”
Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.
“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.
Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”
Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.
Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.
—
It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.
The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.
From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.
Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.
She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.
Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”
The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”
Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”
He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.
Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.
Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.
With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.
🏎️
The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.
She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.
He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”
It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.
When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.
“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”
The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.
The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.
The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.
He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”
Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”
He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.
Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”
“Y/n Y/l/n.”
He lifts his head slowly, “What?”
At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”
A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.
He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.
“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.
She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”
Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”
“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.
Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”
She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”
He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”
Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.
At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”
He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”
Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”
He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.
Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”
Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”
🏎️
The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.
Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.
So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.
“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.
A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”
Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.
When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.
Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.
He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.
He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”
He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.
The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.
Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.
“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.
She doesn’t know who he is.
He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.
“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.
Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.
“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.
“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.
“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.
Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”
What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.
“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.
She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.
“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.
“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”
Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”
He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”
Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”
Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”
Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.
“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.
He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”
Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”
His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”
She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”
He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”
Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”
Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”
She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.
🏎️
Y/n
Can you stop blowing up my phone
Bob <3
Why????? I’m bored baby
Y/n
im at work girly
Bob <3
girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me
Y/n
I think you might be obsessed with me
Bob <3
i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?
Y/n
girl
She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.
“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.
She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”
“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.
Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”
Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”
Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”
Lando hums, “An hour?”
“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”
Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”
She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”
He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”
“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.
He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”
She’d never get tired of saying it.
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris edit#lando imagine#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfiction#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fluff#ln4 x you
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Sergeant Snuggles
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky wants you to get some much needed rest.
Word Count: Over 1.6k
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, humor, reader is tired, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and the best boyfriend, okay?).
A/N: I'm tired. I want Bucky to fix my schedule. Again! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You should’ve taken the afternoon off. You knew that. There was no reason for you to remain in the building beyond your earlier debriefing. The mission you completed was successful, but you hardly slept over the last few days because of it. Describing yourself as tired was an understatement.
But you had a tendency to stretch yourself thin at times and were stubborn, a trait Bucky both loved and fought you on.
The beautiful brunette you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend leaned over in his chair as you stifled a yawn. “That’s the fifth time you’ve done that in the last two minutes,” he whispered low enough to not draw attention.
“Glad you’re keeping count,” you whispered back, feeling his steel eyes linger on you as before he turned his focus back to Steve. At least he didn’t say he told you so after you turned down his suggestion this morning to call in.
You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, the stubble on his strong jawline catching your attention. He hadn’t shaved in a few days. Hardly slept either. Still looked gorgeous.
How was that fair?
“Just take a break,” he urged, tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear. “It’ll help.”
“No, I’m fine,” you argued, picking up your drink and downing the rest of it, as if it would give you a boost. “We have a busy day. I don’t have time to use one of the pods.”
S.H.I.E.L.D. had recently built a lounge area for agents to rest and recoup during the day and between missions. Some of the pods were large enough for two people to rest comfortably together. Why not cuddle with your soldier for a short time? As nice as it sounded, you had to get through a few more hours of work.
“I love you, but you’re about two seconds away from putting your head on the table,” Bucky whispered, your heart skipping a beat. It did that whenever he professed his love for you. But you were also feeling a bit grouchy, even though he was only trying to help
“And I love you, but I’m about two seconds away from flipping this table,” you hissed before Steve cleared his throat. “Sorry,” you added sheepishly. It wasn’t his fault the mission cost you precious sleep.
The blonde’s brow furrowed. Like Bucky, he knew you pushed yourself too hard some days. You had to though. You weren't a super soldier like they were. “It’s okay,” he said before he continued.
Exhaustion veiled your normally bright and attentive gaze. The Captain had a commanding presence, yet your eyelids drooped as he kept talking. You weren’t sure if you were able to fall asleep sitting up and you didn’t want to find out. With a shake of your head, you had to try and fight the waves of drowsiness that crashed in your mind and washed over your body.
It was a losing battle. You used to laugh at memes that talked about meetings that could’ve been done in an email, but it didn’t seem so humorous now that you were living it. Why didn't you just stay home?
You jolted when your boyfriend suddenly placed his hand on your thigh and you wished you could say you blamed it on his touch. “What? What happened?” You asked. Did you fall asleep or just zone out?
“The meeting’s over,” he replied, nodding to the now empty room. You hadn’t seen anyone walk out. That wasn’t good.
“Shit.” You rubbed your temple, an ache building in your head. You’d have to apologize to Steve later because there was no way you retained anything he stated. “What time is it?”
Bucky checked his watch with a slight frown. “It’s 10:55.”
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that.
“Yeah.” Bucky’s lip twitched in a smile when you realized you said that out loud. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that.”
You huffed, your head cloudy again before you slumped in your chair. There was no way you’d make it through the day, as much as you wanted to try. You were useless in this condition. “Okay. I may need a nap,” you admitted.
He smiled softly as he pushed his chair back and held out his hand. “I had a feeling. That’s why I booked us one of the pods before we got here,” he said. It shouldn't have come as a surprise. He knew you better than you knew yourself. “Let's go.”
You pouted, but took his outstretched hand. “Are you sure I can't just try and suck it up?” You asked, covering your mouth with your other hand when you yawned yet again. “There’s still work to do.”
“And you're not going to finish it right this second,” he stated firmly, the drop in his voice making your throat go dry. He meant business when he used that tone. “You're going to let everyone else handle it, and they can handle it, and you are going to get some rest.”
You loved this man for putting up with and caring for you. “Yes, Sergeant, but I still don't want a nap,” you grumbled, wondering just how whiny you sounded.
He chuckled, the sound making you giggle. It was infectious. “Just twenty minutes. It’s all I'm asking for to start. You worked hard and deserve a nap,” he said, sneaking a soft kiss in when you pouted again. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me? Please?”
Something vulnerable flashed in his eyes before he blinked it away. Nightmares still plagued him and you discovered that he rested easier with you beside him. Your presence didn’t always chase the horrors away, but it helped. Maybe he needed this nap just as much as you did.
What kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?
“Okay, Bucko. For you,” you smiled, leaning into his side as he guided you down the hall. You’d do anything for him. “You know, my caffeine let me down,” you added.
“I know, baby.”
“It’s a betrayal. It was supposed to stimulate me,” you mumbled.
“I know, baby,” he said again, going along with your tired rambling. “But we both know I stimulate better than that ever could.”
“Yeah, you do,” you smiled. He was very good at that. “And this is a good excuse for us to cuddle.”
“As long as you get some sleep, you can have all the cuddles you want,” he promised.
A tired smile touched your lips. “I should call you Sergeant Snuggles.”
It was at that moment that Sam walked by, the smirk on his face telling you that he at least caught the nickname you just came up with. Your gaze flickered to Bucky’s profile, catching the clench in his jaw as he stared at his colleague and friend. It was a sexy look, but now wasn’t the time to think about that. And Sam, the good man he was, didn't say a word. He nodded and went on his way.
Which likely meant he pocketed the nickname to bring up at a later time.
“Sorry,” you whispered, hoping you hadn’t embarrassed him.
Fondness took over Bucky's blue eyes when he swung his gaze back toward you. “Don't be sorry. You can call me whatever you want,” he assured you, taking you into the longue.
The low light created a peaceful atmosphere and you found yourself longing for relaxation as Bucky brought you to the pod furthest in the corner. He helped you in before he climbed in beside you, his massive frame making you feel safe and warm as he held you against him. His fingers moved along your back in a slow and soothing pattern and your breathing began to match his after a minute. It made it easy for your eyes to slip shut.
You still couldn’t believe that you had someone in your life like Bucky. The man did everything in his power to put your needs first and make sure he took care of you. Not because he didn’t think you were strong or capable enough to do so yourself, but because he recognized that you didn’t have to do everything alone. That was why he was your partner.
In work, in love, and in life.
“Thanks, Bucky,” you sighed, wishing you were awake enough to say how much you appreciated him. “Sorry for whining and bitching and being stubborn.”
“You don’t need to thank me and you didn’t whine or bitch. I’ll give you stubborn though,” he said, casually tossing a leg over you before you could move away. If you asked it of him, he’d lay on top of you like a blanket. “Just get some sleep and don’t push yourself today, please. I’ll feel a lot better if you relax.”
You’d feel a lot better, too. “One more question and I will.”
He hummed as he waited for you to speak.
“What's the policy on sex in the pods?” You asked, resting a hand on his chest and feeling his heart start to race. “For future us, for the record. I love you, but we’re not trying somnophilia here today.”
He exhaled a laugh against your forehead before he kissed it, warmth spreading like a balm through your head. “I love you, too,” he whispered. Dragging his lips down to yours. “And I’m sure we can find a way to make it work, but not until you rest, okay? Need you at one hundred percent for that.”
“Yes, Sergeant Snuggles,” you replied, feeling him hold you a little tighter before you finally got some much needed sleep.
I hope this reads well. 🤣 I'm le tired. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky#bucky fic#bucky barnes oneshot#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#james bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier
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A Marriage Story
Summary: You met your husband Spencer at college and fell in love at first sight. A decade later, he’s struggling to be the man you need after spending months away in prison. Can you find your way back to each other even when outside influences want to keep you apart?
Content warnings: smut, fluff and angst all rolled into one, rough sex, oral sex, degradation, sub/dom dynamics, references to infidelity and divorce
WC: 10.7k
“Can’t sleep?” You peered into the living room to see your husband slouched across the sofa, sporting a stiff, groggy expression as he examined what looked to be a pine-green leatherbound book.
“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” He mumbled in response, barely looking up. Spencer was snarky by nature- it was something you’d grown accustomed to and even found endearing- but you were woefully unprepared for just how much would change following his stint in prison.
“You can barely read in here, it’s so dark.” You grumbled as you stretched to turn on an orange light posted in the corner. Your fingertips brushed past the bobbly canvas of the lampshade as you recalled how the appliance was a wedding gift. You weren’t exactly sure who bestowed it to you but the memory made you a little misty-eyed.
“And you don’t have your glasses either.” You muttered under your breath as you readily paced to your bedroom down the hall to retrieve his black-rimmed specs. “Here you go.” You extended your arm out, waiting for him to take them out of your grasp but he paid no notice.
“Spence.” You nudged him but he just shook his head wordlessly and retreated into his pages even more, squinting profusely. Perching beside him, you tucked his unruly waves out of his face and nestled them behind his ear before carefully sliding on his glasses, letting them rest on the delicate bridge of his nose.
“Thanks.” He whispered after a while and you tried your best not to sigh at the state of your husband. His under eyes throbbed purple, the darkness consuming them in a veiny, crescent spill. There was no avoiding the way Spencer’s eyes had gradually dullened, as if the light had drained from them entirely.
“It’s 3 in the morning, my love. Clearly that stiff sofa isn’t doing you any favours, why don’t you try sleeping in our bed tonight?” You hummed, nervously pawing at his forearm in anticipation of his answer.
“Not tonight.” He dismissed, shaking off your hand as he recoiled from you.
“You always said that sleeping with me put your mind to rest. Let me scoop you up into my arms and I’ll bet those nightmares will ease right up.” You nuzzled into him playfully, badly craving that now unfamiliar warmth. It had been 3 months since Spencer returned home from jail and another 3 since you’d even slept in the same room.
“That was back then.” He replied coldly, swallowing a lump in his throat before finally looking up to meet your gaze. “The sofa is just fine now.”
“So you plan on spending the rest of our marriage sleeping in here, do you?” You laughed in disbelief, overwhelmed by the incredible misfortune that had struck your husband- and by cursed extension, you.
“I didn’t say that.” He ripped off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with tired frustration. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I have been more than understanding.” You observed the broken man hunched over before you with both pity and unbridled anger. “But my lenience has a limit. At some point, you have to get over it.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through.” He snapped back, almost interrupting.
“Because you won’t tell me.” You countered, blood pressure rising over his incredulous obstinance. “How am I supposed to help you if you don’t let me?”
“I don’t need your help.” He scoffed, shuffling back as if the slightest contact with you made his skin crawl.
“I am your wife.” You uttered solemnly, the words beginning to sound foreign to you both. “Or have you forgotten?”
“How could I? You never leave me alone.” He stated carelessly with such absurd cruelty that it made your heart split in two.
“Who are you? I don’t even recognise you anymore.” Your voice trembled as tears swelled and you willed yourself not to fall apart entirely right then and there.
“I don’t recognise myself either.” He murmured inaudibly.
Awkwardly plumping the pillows you had flattened as you rose, you straightened out your cotton nightie and headed towards the solitary bedroom, leaving Spencer glaring shamefully at the floor.
“Do you remember our wedding day?” You whispered into the doorway, unsure whether he would even hear.
“Of course I do.” He sighed heavily, as if the memory hurt him and he wasn’t too grateful for the reminder.
Realising that those were the only words you’d be able to coax out of him tonight, you proceeded down the corridor and slumped into bed defeatedly. The right side of the bed was always kept empty, partly out of habit and partly out of hope that he might, by some miracle, change his mind one of these nights and join you. A particular quote that your husband once read aloud from a Nietzsche book sprang to mind: “In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.” He had laughed it off as the words left his perfect lips, dismissing the mournful proclamation as pessimistic melodrama- but now you wondered whether the boy genius had, for once, been wrong. Clutching a rumpled old pillow close to your chest, you thought back to better days as your melancholy lulled you to sleep.
“Spencer, you’re so annoying.” You playfully slapped his forearm once you caught sight of the little drawings he was leaving in your notebook. “This journal is for my notes, not your mediocre art. Is that one meant to be me?” You pointed at the silly stickman with long hair and a speech bubble declaring ‘I love Spencer’.
“Well you’re obviously not the ruggedly handsome one.” He gestured at the nerdy-looking bespectacled caricature of himself. It was evident he didn’t have the highest self regard but you couldn’t figure out why- to you, there was no one more perfect. “Do you write about me in your little diary?” He glided the pages out of your reach and began flicking through their contents with a sneer. Knowing exactly what he would find, you allowed him to skim through your written confession as you witnessed his expression soften.
“I met a guy today in my criminology class.” He muttered, reading an early entry aloud. “I hardly know anything about him, but I’m already certain I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Is that crazy? To love a complete stranger? I think I would let him drive me into the furthest depths of insanity if it meant I could hold onto a piece of him forever.”
You blushed hearing your own words spilling from his lips, recalling the day you met on your first day of college.
“Wait.” Spencer put your notebook down before frantically rummaging through his backpack to retrieve his own. Yanking out a pine-green leatherbound journal, he flitted through its pages before turning it around and sliding it across the library desk. “Read this here.” He tapped a passage located right around the middle with an impatient forefinger.
“Okay…” You drawled hesitantly, sliding your textbooks out of the way to focus on the script put before you. “I met a girl today. That doesn’t really happen to me. Liking aforementioned girl is even more of a rarity but today, I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. There I was, my nose deep in a second edition tome of Fundamentals of Research in Criminal Justice when someone who could only be described as a blinding ray of sunshine bounded into the lecture hall. When she took a seat in the back row beside me and made a deliciously snide comment over Garland’s incompetency in examining the Lombrosian Project, I knew I was a goner. Note to self: do further research on what it means to be ‘in love’.”
“Yours was a little more romantic.” He chuckled, observing the incredulous look on your face.
“Spence…” You shook your head as you grabbed his hand and tried unsuccessfully to convey the complexity of your feelings. “I- I don’t know what to say.”
“I love you.” He said simply, like he had many times before but you never grew tired of hearing it.
“I love you too.” You grinned, resisting the urge to kiss him and give surrounding students in the stuffy library a show.
“Can I ask you something crazy? But promise not to think about it too much.” He chewed on his bottom lip with an almost crazed look in his eyes.
“You can’t surprise me anymore.” You nodded, giggling.
“Do you want to get married?” The question made you break out into a flurry of goosebumps, contradicting your last sentence entirely.
“W-what?” You raised your eyebrows, listening intently for a sign that he was just teasing.
“Right now. Lets go somewhere and get married.” You scanned his handsome face in shock as you realised he was being serious.
“B-but we’re only 22. We’re so young.”
“Yes, we are.” He calmly responded, allowing you to run through all your doubts.
“A-and we still haven’t graduated.”
“No, we haven’t.” He shook his head.
“And oh, our parents would be so mad!”
“They very well might be. Marry me anyway.” He flashed a broad, toothy smile and the way it made your heart stop gave you the only indication you needed.
“Okay.” You smiled.
“Okay?!” He repeated in surprise.
“Okay. I’ll marry you.”
Spencer shot out of his seat, lifting you up with him as he grabbed you by the face, planting excitable kisses over your lips and cheeks.
“Don’t we need to make appointments for this kind of thing?” You squeaked out between kisses, the logistical cogs in your mind whirring.
“Well, baby.” He paused, gazing into your eyes with a mischevious twinkle. “It’s a good thing we live in Vegas.”
Grabbing each other’s hand with a fervour you thought would last forever, you headed straight to a walk-in chapel, where along with two drunken witnesses you dragged off the street and a pair of vending machine wedding bands, you officiated your love. The haughtily dressed minister, who resembled a cowboy more than a government official thanks to his white, studded getup- took several takes before agreeing to ordain the ceremony. “Crazy kids…” he muttered under his breath when you managed to persuade him, ushering you down the altar with a disapproving sigh.
Spencer marvelled at how you could look so beautiful in a cheap, rented veil and he vowed that day that he would never dare take you for granted. He would make damn sure to remember just how blessed he was, no matter what life threw at him.
He remained true to his word for the most part, proceeding to spend the next decade or so faithfully by your side. As in most areas of his life, Spencer excelled at being a husband. After his first substantial promotion, he knew exactly what to spend all his savings on: he made a beeline to Tiffany’s for a long overdue engagement ring, surprising you with the small robin’s-egg-blue box on a random Tuesday night. You loved it, of course, and gushed over the lavish diamond, proudly flashing it to anyone who would let you- though you kept your tarnished old band on your bedside table and observed it with nostalgic fondness.
Every promise Spencer made, Spencer kept. From the silly details down to the crux of your marriage, he was unfalteringly respectful, supportive and always appreciative.
You certainly weren’t too shabby playing the part of his wife either. Dinner was always on the table, the house was always spick and span and you had no shortage of tight outfits to greet him home dressed up in. You hadn’t ever anticipated your role in life would be that of a housewife but Spencer made it easy- and if you had to be one, a loving, handsome genius was the man for the job. You figured you could do worse.
When the company you worked for years ago filed for bankruptcy and you were too burnt out to look elsewhere, your husband was more than happy to assume his new position as the breadwinner.
While the thought of relying on a man used to inundate you with horror, this particular man was like something out of a movie- for him, you made every exception, choosing a life of domestic bliss in suburbia over the dreams you once had. You weren’t the most fulfilled woman in the world but you’d never had serious concerns- until this year. It wasn’t Spencer’s habit of overprioritising work, nor his stretch in prison- it wasn’t even the thousand yard stare that painted his face at all hours of the day following his release.
It was the arrival of the sudden and unprecedented thought that he might actually leave you.
As many fights as you’d had over the years, the possibility that Spencer may not be the man you spend the rest of your life with had never once crossed your mind- you had it ticked off as a definite and planned your life accordingly around that simple fact. You thought you had agreed that nothing could ever tear you apart.
But now; the way he recoiled when you came near him and the disdain that dripped from his voice when he spoke to you had you reconsidering whether the man you knew would ever make a return.
It was your biggest fear and everything your mother had warned you about; her nauseating words gnawed at you as you remembered how staunchly she opposed your impromptu decision to get married. She never really accepted Spencer- choosing instead to graciously tolerate him as a favour to you, but neither of you were under any illusions as to what her real thoughts on the matter were.
“There you are, I was beginning to think you stood me up.” The lofty voice of your mother rang out and the air sharply shifted around her.
“Sorry, mother. I- uh, woke up a little late. Got caught in the midday traffic.” You sniffled, trying your utmost to be subtle over the fact you’d spent all morning weeping pathetically in bed.
“Yes, I suppose that’s something you can afford being unemployed and childless.” She scoffed, suspiciously eyeing up your puffy face. “Though I suspect traffic isn’t to blame on this particular occasion.”
“Of course it is.” You dismissed, taking a seat before her at the garden restaurant you had agreed to meet for lunch in. It was a little too snooty for your taste, but then so was she.
Burying your face in the menu before she had the chance to inspect your somewhat ragged appearance further, you tried to ignore her heavy sighing.
“I worry about you, you know.” She lowered your menu with a pristinely manicured finger.
“Oh trust me, I know.” You rolled your eyes and snatched the menu back, eyeing up the scandalously named cocktails and wondering how many you could get away with ordering.
“I’m being serious. Your whole life revolves around him. And he’s a mess. You know what that makes you?” She reached into her handbag and fished for a compact mirror.
“Please, enlighten me.” You groaned as she checked her mauve lipstick.
“A mess by extension.” She haughtily added, snapping the mirror closed with a snappy click. “And it’s my job as your mother to set you straight.”
“Lucky me.” You muttered, disinterested.
“Listen to me, young lady. I don’t care how old you get or how much you think you know, I know better. You need to come back down to Earth and realise that your marriage is failing.” She snakes her hand across the table and places it on top of your own. “Prison changes a man. He’s not the Spencer you once knew.”
“You think I don’t know that?” You retorted stroppily. “I know he’s changed but that doesn’t mean we’re going to- we’re not getting a- you know…”
“Divorce?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, that.” You shrugged.
“It fills me with deep concern that you can’t even say the word. How are you going to function when he leaves you?”
“Mother!” You gasped.
“Oh, if and when, same thing.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively, her nimble pearl bracelets clinking against one another. “My point is, darling, you must accept that there’s a…significant possibility your life will change. You need to be ready for it.”
“No.” You shook your head, refusing to let her words sink in. “Spence wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave me.”
“Oh?” She finally removed her sunglasses and you caught sight of the genuine concern in her steely eyes. “What did he say to you before you left this morning?”
Your eyes shot to the floor as you remembered how he’d elected to go to work early, leaving the house without a farewell as was his routine these days. Seeing the anxiety and shame written all over your face, your mother sighed yet again.
“Men in these situations often seek comfort in others.” She softened her tone but not her words. “You’re too close to the situation to make him feel better about it. You know too much.”
“What are you trying to say?” You squinted.
“He needs to feel like a man right now. And you can’t give him that.” She innocently sipped from the paper straw floating in her lemon water.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismissed her, the thought of Spencer cheating inconceivable.
“Look out for the signs. If he’s working late too often, if he has secretive phone calls…” She trailed off. “It can’t hurt to pay attention.”
Although you tried not to let them, her words had a nagging way of worming themselves into your brain and never coming back out.
Later that evening, you returned to the empty confines of your house and spent several hours anxiously flitting your eyes to the clock on the wall. He should’ve been home early today.
“Spence, is that you?” You called out once you heard the faint clicking of the door unlocking. The slow thudding of his heavy footsteps was heard before he entered your bedroom, looking very weary and sporting even more stubble than usual.
“Who else would it be?” He asked with a shadow of a smile. Offering no explanation, he peeled off his blazer and loosened his tie as he perched on the edge of the bed.
“Must be a really tough case you’re working on with the amount of overtime shifts you’ve been putting in.” You cleared your throat.
“It’s, uh, it’s been a tricky one. Yeah.” A deafening silence followed his obscure reply.
“Did you give any more thought to taking time off work?” You continued, yearning to wrap your arms around him but resisting.
“No. I mean, yes I did, but I don’t want any time off. It wouldn’t help, I can hardly stand being at home.” You gulped at the hurtful connotation and he turned around to face you. “No, I didn’t mean like that. Not because of you. You know what I’m trying to say.”
“Not sure I do.” You muttered under your breath.
“I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep, stabilising breath. “I just need time.”
“Of course, Spence, I understand that. It’s only that- well, i-it’s been 6 months. 6 months of me doting on you and letting you get away with acting and speaking to me however you like. At what point does it end?” Your words had a desperate tinge to them. “I need some kind of indication.”
“I can’t tell you the exact time and date that I will forget everything that happened to me.” He stood up with a huff and you knew you’d touched a nerve.
“Don’t get defensive, I’m just trying to talk to you.” You got up and stood beside him, laying a flat palm to his chest. “To get through to you somehow, anyhow.”
You could feel his warm, unsteady breath on your skin as he scrunched his eyes shut, wanting to be anywhere but here.
“Why can’t you talk to me? You used to be able to tell me everything.” Your voice cracked as you rubbed your thumb across his cheek pleadingly.
“I can’t give you what you want. Not right now.” He gently lowered your hand and stared into your eyes apologetically.
“We haven’t made love in so long.” You murmured hesitantly and he shot you an irksome look. You hated to bring it up but the pain of his rejection was getting too much to bear- you had to let him know how badly you needed him.
“Is that why you’ve been on my case so much lately?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“No, of course not.” You sighed. “Not the only reason, at least.”
“Sorry, baby. I’ve been too busy dealing with major trauma to factor in your sex drive.” He quipped sarcastically.
“That’s not fair, Spencer.” You had anticipated such a response but your heart dropped anyway when you heard it. “It’s not just about that and you know it. I just miss my husband- all of him.”
“Things change.” He mumbled.
“Well, will they ever change back?” You snapped a little. “Tell me right now, can I get my husband back? Matter of fact, do you even want to come back?”
Your eyes betrayed you with a steady stream of tears pouring down your reddened cheeks.
“Do you still want me?” Your voice quivered, praying he wouldn’t take this opportunity to shatter you completely.
“Yes. I do.” He answered simply though there was an air of conflict about him. “I’ve loved being your husband. I just, I- not now. I just can’t. I can’t do it.”
He shook his head and paced out to the hall, shutting the living room door loudly once he was safely inside.
Your blood began to boil. All the grace and understanding you’d shown him this year and he couldn’t even finish a conversation without running away like a coward.
“You bastard. Come back here right now, Reid.” You barked out, running after him. “Or so help me God-.”
“You’ll do what?” He opened up, lean figure resting against the door frame. ”You gonna kill me, honey?”
“I just might!” You shrieked frustratedly. “I’m so unbelievably sick of you doing nothing but sulking and feeling sorry for yourself. Enough is enough. Wake up and smell the fucking flowers!” You crossed your arms, exasperated and a small smirk spread across his handsome face. “You’re smiling.”
“Such good attention to detail. This is exactly why I married you.” He winked and you slapped his arm a little too forcefully. “Yes, I’m smiling. You’re adorable when you’re bratty.”
“If being at my wits end with you means being a brat then yes, I’m the biggest brat in the world!” You started bawling- you knew it was irrational but you were too sensitive and overwhelmed with emotion to let his teasing slide.
“I know, I know. It’s okay, shh.” He pulled you in close, pressing your delicate head against his chest. “Come on, my love. You know I can’t stand seeing you cry.”
“How come you’ve been letting me do it every night, then?” You whimpered, pitiful words swallowed by the fabric of his white work shirt.
“I didn’t think it was that bad.” He looked down at you, a noxious blend of guilt and sympathy flickering in his tired eyes. “I-I thought you understood.”
“Understood what?” You let out a muffled murmur as you drew in his heady scent, the musky cologne combined with his sweat soothing your overwrought senses.
“That even though I’m in a dark place-” He lowered his face until you felt his hot breath against your flushed cheeks. “It doesn’t, for a single second, mean that I don’t love you.”
“Really?” You gazed up at him lamentably. “It was starting to feel that way, li-like nothing I did was good enough.”
“I’m sorry.” He almost winced, his regret tangible in how tightly he held you. “It’s not you, you’re perfect. You’ve been patient and understanding and I’ve completely put our marriage on the back burner….there’s no excuse.” He fell back into the sofa, pulling you down into his lap as he gently spoke.
“God it was just the weight of it all- the weight of how long it was taking me to shake it off. The longer it took, the more I felt like a failure and I couldn’t stand coming home to you every night and disappointing you. Seeing the unfalteringly hopeful look on your face and knowing it’d be wiped off after one conversation with me…I started avoiding you.”
“Spence…” You wilted like a flower at his confession.
“But that was selfish, I know that.” He took your face in his hands and professed earnestly. “I can’t apologise enough, my love.”
“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Your heart leapt as your husband’s familiar warmth flooded you- and while you were grateful to get a glimpse of the old Spencer, you were also confused by the abrupt shift in his demeanour- if not suspicious.
“Honestly? You getting pissed off flipped a switch in me.” He looked just as puzzled as you at the admission. “All this time you haven’t gotten mad once- even when you’re upset, you’re always sweet. I guess it took you acting out of character to make me see just how badly I’ve been treating you. You brought me to my senses by threatening me.”
“And I’ll make good on that threat if you keep shutting me out.” You wagged a finger at him and he chuckled, clasping your hand and planting a soft kiss over it.
“If I ever talk to you like that again, you have my full permission to kill me.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You scowled at him playfully and he patted your damp cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, drying the remnants of your tears.
“I was reading my journal from our college days last night.” He admitted as you soaked up how good it felt to be in his arms again.
“I knew that dusty old green thing looked familiar!” You bit your lip to contain the smile about to burst through. “Why were you looking through that?”
“I needed a reminder of what kind of man I vowed to be. To stay true to that little nerd who couldn’t believe his luck when he got to marry you.” He pressed his forehead against yours as he filled your head with words you’d spent the last 6 months dreaming about. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to sleep in our bed again tonight.”
“You mean it, Spence? You really don’t have to if you don’t-“
“No, I really do. You’re my home, baby. And I’ve been away from home for too long.” He pulled you in closer until his lips gently met yours, kissing you so sweetly you thought you might melt.
“God, I missed you.” You whispered as a shudder ran down your spine, his touch proving to be too much after you’d spent so long deprived.
“I missed you more. I promise I’ll make it up to you. For all my mistakes.” He cooed but you weren’t even paying attention, all your focus centred on the dizzying way his large palm stroked your back.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He whispered, nudging his shoulder against your own.
“Mhm…” You moaned lazily, allowing him to drag you up and guide you into the comfort of your bedroom, which instantly seemed more welcoming now that you knew he was finally joining you.
“There, all tucked in.” He beamed after stuffing the edges of the duvet beneath your languid body. “I just need to change and brush my teeth, I’ll be right in.” He kissed your forehead and sauntered over to the adjoining bathroom.
Before you could surrender to sleep, you pawed clumsily at the nightstand in search of your phone, overcome with the urge to message your mother- you just had to let her know she was wrong. Composing a text to assure her your marriage was no longer in danger, you sent it through with a satisfied sigh. Unexpectedly, the screen lit up not a moment after you’d put it down, accompanied by a quiet chirp that let you know she had sent one back.
“Don’t let your guard down. Guilt is a powerful thing.” Her ominous words pulsed off the screen and left you feeling queasy.
“Remember what I said. Look for the signs.” A second text flashed across the screen.
You dropped the phone with a shaky clatter, as if your hands couldn’t wait to be rid of the thing. How could she remain insistent that Spencer had been cheating when he’d given next to no indication of it? You would’ve chalked it all down to her longstanding aversion to him and fallen into a peaceful slumber- if it wasn’t for the muttering you heard coming from the other side of the bathroom door.
Like a jumpy cat, you raised yourself against the headboard at once and listened with bated breath. Struggling to make out a complete sentence as the running water smothered his words, you cautiously crept over to the door and ever so slightly pressed your ear against it.
“I appreciate that but I can’t. We’ll have to reschedule.” Spencer’s muffled voice rang out, sounding slightly stressed. “No, I’m not thinking about leaving. I know I need you. Yes. Everything’s fine, I’m just not free tonight.”
You let out an exasperated breath, in pure disbelief over what you’d overheard. Before you could gather your thoughts, the tap stopped running and you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, prompting you to leap into bed and swathe yourself amongst the covers.
“You asleep already, baby?” He whispered when he emerged from the bathroom, pressing his warm, pyjama-clad body flat against yours. You said nothing, remaining as still as a church mouse as he cosily nestled his face into the crook of your neck and dozed off. While your husband enjoyed the best sleep he’d had in the better part of a year, you spent the remainder of the night staring into the expanse of your dark ceiling, paralysed with fear.
A Saturday morning was usually yours and Spencer’s favourite day of the week; it meant you could sleep in, have breakfast in bed and make love until noon all in glorious succession. This particular Saturday was markedly different- partly because Spencer had been called into work- and partly because you couldn’t go a second without driving yourself crazy thinking about his affair.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Hotch is insisting he needs the whole team together.” Spencer rolled his eyes as he hopped around in a struggle to get his socks on. You sat up in bed and nodded complacently, not wanting to set off any alarm bells to your profiler husband. “Hey babe?” He asked, fiddling with his tie.
“Hm?” You smiled innocuously.
“How would you feel if you had to start working again?” He bit his lip and looked at you, full of intrigue. “Would you manage?”
“Umm, I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, caught off guard completely by his question. “Why do you ask?”
“Didn’t you have dreams? Goals you wanted to accomplish?” He asked sincerely and a thinly veiled panic began to rise in you.
“Sure, I guess. I didn’t plan on abandoning them but- I don’t know, life got in the way and other things took priority.”
“Hm. Okay.” He looked absorbed in thought as he grabbed his blazer. “I’ve got to run- how about I meet you for dinner at that new steakhouse in town? We’ve got a lot of things to discuss.”
“We do?” You gulped.
“I know I do.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead as you desperately tried to read his body language. “See you later.”
“Bye, honey.” You choked out as he breezed out the door, leaving you with bile rising up your throat.
You hated to admit it, but your mother was right.
“And-and then he told her he needed her!” You blubbed down the phone when you finally plucked up the courage to call her later that day. “And don’t you dare say you told me so!”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” Your mother retorted dishonestly.
“But that’s not all- before he left this morning, he was asking me how I’d feel if I had to start working again!” You whined, your body racked with so much anxiety it made you nauseous.
“He’s trying to gauge how you’d cope if you no longer had him to financially rely on.” She sighed knowingly. “He’s trying to subconsciously prepare you. It’s almost thoughtful- in his own strange, dysfunctional way. Typical Spencer.”
“You really think this is it? He’s done with me?” You sniffed, desperately hanging onto the last thread of hope. “This might just all be a big misunderstanding.”
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, the late nights, the phone call, the interrogation about your career. And the spontaneous apologetic outburst. It’s clear to see he’s bursting at the seams with guilt.” She tutted, feigning sympathy- but you knew she’d been waiting for Spencer to slip up for years. As much as it might have pained her to see her daughter like this, the satisfaction of knowing Spencer was almost out of her life outweighed the anguish.
“So now what do I do?” You whinged, the last thread snapped.
“You’re going to dress up in the tightest outfit you have, drive down to that restaurant and tell him you want a divorce.” She instructed with her signature self-assured candidness.
“B-but I don’t want a divorce.” You mumbled meekly, acutely aware of how pitiable you sounded.
“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.”
Her words resounded in your aching brain as you rummaged through your closet looking for an outfit that fit the brief, ultimately settling on a satin black mini dress- Spencer’s favourite.
Driving to the restaurant rehearsing your parting words was nothing short of excruciating. You adored your husband just as much as you did the day you first met; spotting him in that lecture hall, shiny brown hair slicked back as he twiddled a pen between his spindly fingers and scrunched his eyebrows up in displeasure at the set text. It was like a bolt of lightning struck you- love at first sight.
How did you get to the point of divorce? Your brain was racked with potential guesses as to where along the line you lost him. Were you not interesting enough? You wanted to get your career back on track but you assumed Spencer would prefer a stay-at-home wife. Is that where you went wrong? Perhaps some woman at work was more engaging, perhaps he had more mutual interests with her than his boring wife.
Pulling into the parking lot, you braced yourself to head for the entrance and find your soon-to-be ex-husband. Who would get the car in the divorce? He paid for it so you supposed the courts would award it to him.
“Oh God.” You muttered under your breath, head spinning as you waited inside for a hostess. If you went by that logic, you’d be left with nothing.
“Do you have a reservation?” The young worker hobbled over breathlessly.
“Uh- probably, under a Mr Reid.” You twiddled your thumbs as she searched her database.
“Oh, he’s already been seated, just down there.” She pointed in his direction and you saw the back of his head, luscious curls nestling around the base of his neck. You sighed, he was going to be a tough one to get over.
“Baby, there you are.” He rose from his seat to plant a quick kiss on your cheek and as always, pull out your chair. Where were you going to find someone as gentlemanly as him? “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” You managed a small smile though you were sure he saw right through it.
“I’ve already ordered us some wine, they had that white zinfandel you like.” He said, pouring you a glass.
“Trying to get me drunk, Reid?” You swirled the liquid around, inhaling the sweet aroma.
“From half a bottle?” He chuckled nervously, your mannerisms already causing suspicion. “No, I want you sober for tonight.”
“That’s unkind.” You muttered unintelligibly, knocking back your glass in one go.
“Woah, slow down.” He cautioned as you clinked your glass against the bottle, prompting him to hesitantly pour you another.
“You sure everything’s okay?”
“Yes, great. What did you need to talk to me about?” You braced yourself for impact.
“Okay, well, I know it would be a big change but just hear me out. I think in the long run, it’d be better for you if-“
“Actually, no. Everything’s not okay.” You slurred, the alcohol already impairing your senses.
“Oh? What’s the matter?” He asked anxiously, fidgeting with his wedding band.
“I want a divorce.” You blurted out tastelessly.
“You- what?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he blinked rapidly. “A divorce?”
“You heard me.” You gulped, trying your hardest to be stern even though you were about to fall apart. “You’ve run out of chances with me.”
“Baby, what? I-I know it’s been rocky but I thought we talked it through? You seemed just fine last night, I don’t understand.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised so high a painful-looking row of wrinkles stacked up on his forehead.
“I thought we were fine too, but I was wrong.” You took another glug of liquid courage as you avoided eye contact, knowing you would cave if you took even one glance at his big, round eyes.
“I know I don’t have much room to complain after what I’ve put you through but can’t we at least talk about it first?” He pleaded, heart jumping out of his chest.
“What is there to talk about, Spencer? You couldn’t come to me so you closed yourself off and found comfort in another woman- God knows how long this has been going on while I’ve been here pining after you like an idiot-“
“What?” He raised his hand, signalling you to pause your rambling.
“Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been cheating on me.” You scoffed, determined not to fall victim to his gaslighting.
“What the hell are you talking about?” His mournful expression was replaced by one of bewilderment.
“I heard you last night on the phone to her. Who is she?” You cocked your head, a little smug over the fact that you’d caught him- what kind of a genius calls his mistress while his wife’s next door?
To your surprise, Spencer broke out into a laugh, taking his head into his hands as he shook it in relief. “You got me, baby. You caught me.” He smiled dazedly.
“I did, so I don’t know why you’re smiling.” You scowled.
“You caught me talking to my therapist.” He shot you an unimpressed glare. “I started seeing her 2 weeks ago and I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t want you getting your hopes up. But Jesus, baby. Divorce? That’s where you landed?”
“It’s not just that!” You jumped to your own defence. “How do you explain all the late nights at work- and that conversation we had this morning about my career?”
“That’s what I was going to talk to you about today. I got you a job.” He stated.
“Huh? Why?” You gawked, hesitant to believe anything he said.
He took a deep breath, shuffling his chair a little closer and taking your hand.
“Look, baby, I know you try your hardest to be a great wife. Too hard, if anything, and you’ve always been exceptional and far too good for me. As much as I love your dedication, you need to think about your own needs and prioritise those for a change. It’s no secret that you’ve been feeling unfulfilled for a while now, I can see it from a mile away. I should’ve addressed it sooner but, well, you know.”
“Spence?” You shook your head in uncertainty, wondering how you could’ve been so wrong.
“I should’ve never let you give your career up. I should’ve pushed you harder but I just loved having you at home all the time, it’s selfish, I know. My job is stressful but it gives me a sense of purpose, one I know you crave.” He explained, trying not to giggle at your awestruck face and your inability to form a single sentence. “What I’m saying is, I want to see you reignite that old passion you had. How would you feel about joining me in the BAU?”
Nothing could’ve prepared you for his admission and tears of shock and immense relief began coursing down your face. “Spencer, I can’t believe this.”
“In hindsight, I should’ve talked to you about it first but I thought it might be a nice surprise- I’m an idiot, you don’t have to take it, of course, if you don’t want to.” He backtracked, suddenly aware of how flawed his plan was.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a very long time.” You uttered softly.
“R-really? You want to do it?” He raised his eyebrows in that adorably curious way of his.
“I don’t know how you managed to figure out I wanted a job before I did, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I want to do it.” You nodded, too consumed with excitement to mull over your embarrassingly wrong assumptions.
“Now, it’s only a low-level position for the time being, just to ease you into the transition but you have the potential to-“
“I’ll be with you.” You smiled simply.
“Yes, for the most part. I thought it’d be a good way to spend more time together- not including the times when I’d have to fly out and can’t take you with me yet, although-“
“Spencer.” You interrupted him. “Thank you.”
“Well, of course. Anything for you.” He squeezed your hands and you felt the anxiety throb away. “Can’t believe you thought I was cheating.”
“You gave me some major indicators!” You scrunched your face up awkwardly. “And my mother pointed out that-“
“Ah, there we go.” He sighed, unimpressed. “That woman has had it out for me for the better part of a decade.”
“Sorry, baby, you know she has a talent for burrowing inside my head.” You confessed shyly, aware you should’ve known better.
“I’m going to talk to her.” Spencer declared.
“Huh?”
“First thing tomorrow, we’re going to her house and I’m throwing it all out there. After a decade of pent-up resentment, it’s time.”
Spencer usually avoided your mother at all costs, electing to work overtime on weekends when she decided to visit and often coming down with mysterious ailments during the holidays that prevented him from attending her get-togethers.
“Can’t wait to see how that turns out.” You chuckled gleefully. “And therapy, baby? Wow. I’m so proud of you.”
“I was sceptical at first but I think it’s helping- I’m learning to compartmentalise the issues and most importantly, not take them out on you.” He stared into your eyes and your breath hitched; even after so many years, he had a way of making you feel impossibly shy.
“You sound like a new man, Mr Reid.” You teased, the wine floating around your bloodstream in a way that made you deliciously fuzzy.
“It’s all because of you, Mrs Reid.” A smirk tugged at his lips.
“So we’re really okay?” You asked in disbelief, immeasurably relieved that the rollercoaster seemed to be at an end. “What now?”
“I’ll tell you.” He drawled in a softly seductive tone. “We’re going to order dinner and dessert, I’m going to get you a little too drunk.” He dropped his hand to your thigh, trailing up it as he spoke. “And then I’m going to take you home and fuck you.”
“Oh.” You squeaked, breaking into tingles at the prospect.
“That sound good, doll?” He kneaded your inner thigh and you felt your body go numb as words failed you. “I thought so.”
Seeing that the bottle on your table was glisteningly empty, Spencer beckoned over a waiter.
“Give me your most expensive wine.” He smirked while ordering. “We’re celebrating.”
Although he was a law-abiding federal agent, Spencer ran more than a few red lights that evening given the ravenous way his wife stared at him from the passenger seat, crawling out of her skin with the desire to touch him. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, you were both in a desperate rush to get inside. You clawed at Spencer’s shirt while he shakily tried to unlock the door, trembling with anticipation.
“H-hang on, baby.” The sound of clinking keys mixed with his groans. “God…”
You left messy, wet kisses all down his neck as he finally pushed the door open, taking you into his arms and guiding you indoors.
“Right- mm, here.” You whined between kisses, gesturing at the sofa as you kicked your heels off.
“My desperate girl, can’t even wait long enough to get to the bedroom.” He teased as he pushed you down onto the couch, hooking onto the waistband of your tights with his bony fingers and slowly dragging them down your legs- leaving small kisses down your thighs and calves in the process.
You let out impatient whimpers as he folded your dress up over itself and dragged down your panties.
“Were these your ‘I’m a strong woman’ divorce panties?” He chuckled as he yanked the tiny lace garment off your feet and threw it behind him.
“I needed as much confidence as I could muster.” You pulled him closer by the tie for a heated kiss. “I was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“You could never lose me.” He stared into your eyes with a dizzying intensity that made all the blood rush to your heat. “You’re my wife…” He drawled huskily as he ripped the front panel of your dress open. “Until the day I die.” Looping his fingers around it, he tore the material further with a loud tug, leaving your bare tits bouncing out of the tight fabric. “You jump to conclusions like it’s a full-time job.” He pressed his lips against your hot skin. “But I love you.” You wanted to laugh but a moan escaped your lips instead when he wrapped his tongue around one nipple, grasping the other with a rough hand. “And my God, do you have the best tits I’ve ever seen.”
You raked your fingers through his thick, messy hair as you squirmed beneath him, sure that if he made you wait any longer you’d start crying.
“Patience, baby. You’ll get it.” He whispered, dragging his lips down your body and leaving goosebumps in his wake. He left sloppy, open-mouth kisses along your thighs, so near your heat you could feel his warm breath fanning it.
“P-please, Spence, please.” You muttered, bucking your hips to close the distance between you.
“You know I always give my girl what she wants.” He breathed heavily, snaking his arms around your shaky hips and tugging you closer to drag his tongue across your clit. You melted into the sofa as he sucked on your most sensitive spot, locking you into an unescapable vice with his strong arms.
“Mmh…” You threw your head back, still squirming as he ate you with such passion and hunger that you committed every godless detail to memory. His hair became increasingly dishevelled as you twisted it into messy knots, fidgeting with the curls as he licked broad stripes up your clit with fanatical force.
“Fuck, fuck…” You grew delirious as he sped up, legs trembling from how good he was making you feel; you desperately pressed yourself further against his mouth, wanting to be devoured until there was nothing left.
“Can-can I, please, can you- oh God.” You rambled nonsensically as he showed no sign of slowing down, worshipping you with his tongue until you felt like blacking out. He groaned in approval as he flitted across your wet slit aggressively, knowing it pushed you over the brink every time. It had been months since he’d had you wrapped around his neck like this, panting in that slutty way that drove him wild- and as much as he wanted to savour it, he couldn’t wait much longer to have you. As you pushed his head down, he sucked so sloppily that the sounds emanating were nothing short of pornographic.
“Spencer!” You moaned out sinfully while you came, gripping his shoulders with your thighs as you dissolved into a mushy, whiney mess. Your hips twitched as he pulled away from you, wiping the drool from his mouth with the sleeve of his collared shirt.
“No need to yell, I’m right here.” He grinned, deriving great pleasure from seeing you fall apart.
“Oh God, I’ve forgotten how good you are that.” You winced, trembling from the force of your release.
“I’ll make sure you never forget again.” He smirked into the kiss as he pressed his lips against yours, barely giving you any time to come to as he ripped off the remnants of your dress. “Sorry about that, doll- I’ll buy you a new one.”
“It was my divorce dress, I never would’ve worn it again.” You giggled as you helped him out of his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers, desperate to feel him inside you. Your back arched instinctively as soon as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit; your head rolled back as you felt him slide in teasingly slow, letting you feel every last inch as he spread you apart and scattered sensual kisses down your neck. An obscene moan left your lips when he buried himself as deep inside you as he could.
“Spence, fuck, I don’t know if- ah.” You struggled to get the words out as he stared down at you with amusement. “Too big, I-“
“A few months without my dick and you’ve forgotten how to take it?” He jeers, a twisted smile radiating from him. “That’s no good at all, baby. We’re gonna have to teach you all over again.”
You bit your lip to conceal the whimper that threatened to spill as you nodded obediently, hanging off his every word.
“Breathe.” He pulled out by just an inch or two, ensuring you would barely notice before slowly pushing his hips forward and plunging himself to the hilt.
His hair dangled over his forehead, the unruly locks almost tickling you as he hovered above you, waiting for you to adjust to his thick length.
“Mm…” You peeped, looking at him coyly like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Yeah?” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours before you nodded. With the thousands of times you’d made love, he knew the meaning of every subtle cue and whimper; he knew you were often too shy to speak so he let you get away with using your varying whines as a form of communication. His dirty talk overwhelmed you, leaving you flustered and speechless- and he knew just how much you loved it.
Spencer pulled out half his length this time, grabbing you by the jaw to hold you lovingly as he thrusted in and out, making sure to look you in the eyes as his swollen cock massaged your walls. Ever the shy one, you tried averting eye contact and looking away from his intense glare but he gently guided you back with a firm hand. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he made love to you, your twisted eyebrows and parted lips too sweet to ignore.
You cried out when his thrusts grew rougher, panting heavily as he fucked you even harder than you remembered.
“You can take it, baby.” He cooed as he fucked you deep and slow. “I know you can.” He pulled out almost all the way before plunging his cock back in, coated in glistening arousal. “Deep breaths for me, doll.” He breathed with you, setting a tempo as you struggled to get anything but your whorish moans out.
“You like it when I stretch this little pussy out?” He groaned, wet flesh and skin smacking against hip bone. “Yeah you do.” He smirked as your cheeks flushed red at his lewd words. “How were you going to go through with a divorce? You can’t even tell me you like the way I fuck you.”
“Spencer!” You gasped, partly at his vulgarity and partly at the way his tip just brushed against your deepest spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“What, baby?” His hands trailed their way down to your hips as he sat up, gripping the handles of your body tightly as he fucked you onto himself. “We both know you could never find someone who fucks you this good again. Who pounds into your cunt exactly the way you need it.” Your jaw dropped at his crude words- he’d always had a penchant for making you flustered but it was clear that prison had made him even rougher around the edges. As much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you couldn’t deny the truth to what he’d said; there was no upgrading after Spencer.
“You’re cockier than I remember.” You manage to breathe out, glassy eyes watering with overstimulation.
“And you’re tighter than I remember.” He smirked maniacally as he started rubbing rough circles into your clit, not slowing down the way he was sorely pummelling into you. “Goddamn, angel, you take me so well.” He muttered under his breath as he observed the mouthwatering way in which your pussy swallowed his entire length, gushing with arousal as the wet smacking intensified.
He swooped down to kiss you, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth as he pushed your knees against your chest. “You feel that?” He shuddered, guiding your hand to your stomach where his member was poking through the flesh, leaving an imprint.
“Uh huh.” You panted.
“You like having my cock this deep in your guts?” In an unexpected move, he pressed down on your lower stomach as you nodded to his question desperately. You screamed in blinding ecstasy as you reached your peak, the borderline cruel way in which Spencer continued pounding against your sweet spot proving too much to take.
“Look at that, I got my answer.” He licked his lips at the sight of his cock glazed in creamy arousal as he pulled out with a groan. You lay motionless on the cushy sofa, limbs numb as you noticed the scowl Spencer was sporting on his chiselled face, small beads of sweat running down his temples.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled darkly.
“Resting?” You upturned your eyebrows sweetly.
Before you could protest, he dragged you down the sofa and turned you over, positioning you to arch your back and expose your throbbing pussy to him.
“You think I’m going to let you get away with one round?” He spanked your ass with a firm, open palm. “I know you’ve been whining about this all the time to your friends. I know how desperate you’ve been for your husband to fuck you. Well, honey- I’ll give you something to talk about.” Before you could respond, he guided his veiny cock into your squishy walls, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch as he pounded into you from the back.
“Is this what you wanted?” He demanded as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up, holding your back flush against his body. “You wanted to be fucked like a whore? Answer me.”
“Yes! Yes, Spence, I want it so bad, treat me like a slut.” You surprised yourself with your sinful words, the rough treatment prompting you to act out of character. He pushed you back onto the bed, holding you down as he drilled into you with dizzying speed. The couch squeaked with the force of your face getting pressed into the pillows as you panted so breathily you thought your heart might give out. You bit into the cushions as drool seeped freely from your mouth and wet the dark grey fabric.
“Harder…” You murmured, barely audible.
“What was that?” Spencer asked in disbelief, slowing down a little to make your words out clearly.
“Harder. I want you to fuck me to within an inch of my life.” You confessed sultrily and a dangerous smirk crept across your husband’s face.
“Anything for you.” He was more than happy to comply with your request.
You spent all night tangled up in each other’s bodies, taking turns being mind numbingly rough and tooth achingly sweet. He whispered confessions of love in your ear one minute and he pinned you down hard enough to leave bruises the next. It was, without a doubt, the best night of your life.
Waking up the next day in Spencer’s arms gave you more euphoria than any drug ever could. He smelled of last night’s wine and sweat, intermingled with the floral detergent of your freshly washed sheets.
“Good morning, baby.” He cooed when he saw your eyes flutter open. “Or rather, good afternoon. How’d you sleep?”
“Never better.” Your husky voice replied. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while.”
“I guess I’ll have to carry you to your mother’s, then.” He chuckled, pulling you in closer so that your head rested on his smooth, bare chest.
“What? You’re not still serious about doing that.” You looked up at him pleadingly.
“Oh, yes I am.” He scolded playfully. “She convinced you I was having an affair and encouraged you to get a divorce. I’d say there’s a conversation to be had there.”
“You know, I really wish you weren’t so respectable sometimes.” You dreaded the prospect of such a confrontation.
“There was nothing respectable about the way I was splitting you open last night.” He countered mischeviously and you rolled your eyes to distract from the blush creeping over your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll buy us breakfast on the way. Get dressed.”
“But Spence!” You tried to argue but he had already climbed out of bed, humming showtunes on his way to the bathroom. With a hefty sigh, you swung your legs round the side of the bed and started searching for your underwear.
“Are you sure? It’s not too late to turn around.” You twiddled your thumbs standing outside your mother’s house, her near-black wooden door looming over you as you waited for her to answer.
“Yes. Stop being a wimp.” Spencer replied just before the door swung open.
“Oh. Hi darling.” She eyed you up before slowly turning her head. “Hello Spencer.”
“There’s my favourite mother-in-law. We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast.” He lifted the brown paper bag containing drive through diner food.
“As if I’d eat that.” She raised her eyebrows contemptously.
“Come on, mom, are you gonna let us in or not?” You piped up after seeing she had no intentions of making things easy for Spencer.
“Yes, fine, in you come.” She opened the door wide and stepped aside, letting you both enter her lavish home.
“Love what you’ve done with the place.” He commented a little snarkily, noticing the extensive remodeling work that had been done.
“Oh yes, we did it last spring. I suppose you haven’t been round for years so you wouldn’t know. Are you avoiding me, Spencer?” She took a seat across from you both in the living room.
“Me? Never. Just like you’d never convince my wife to get a divorce, right?” He quipped and your stomach twisted over how little it took them to start arguing- you’d only just walked in through the door.
“I’ve only ever advocated for what’s best for her.” She stuck her nose up at her son-in-law.
“And why are you so certain that’s not me?” He snapped, genuine curiousity tinging his voice.
“You’re not good enough.” She replied with a resoluteness that must’ve hurt.
“Why, mom? What’s so bad about Spence?” You asked.
“He’s just not who you were supposed to end up with. You were not meant to give up your life to be a housewife to a mediocre man.” She answered simply, like she didn’t even have to think about it.
“So you resent him because of my career choices?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little as she shrugged. “Mother, I chose to leave the field. He had nothing to do with it, he supported me-“
“Oh, I bet he did. Having a woman at home to cook and clean must’ve been too tempting of an offer to pass up.” She scratched at her right arm- a leftover habit from the nicotine patches she used years ago. She claimed she quit smoking but you suspected she’d be in dire need of a cigarette after this conversation.
“That’s ridiculous-“
“She’s right.” Spencer interrupted you. “I was more than happy to have you at home. I preferred it, really. And I didn’t say a word even though I knew you were making a mistake, even though I knew it wouldn’t make you happy.”
“See. The pipe cleaner admits it.” She scoffed and you shot her a venomous glare. “Not to mention what you’ve put her through this year.”
“I know I haven’t by any means been a good husband, but I wouldn’t cheat and I’d never want a divorce. I’m trying to make things right.” He confessed earnestly.
“How?” She scowled, clearly believing him to be beyond redemption.
“He got me a job at the BAU.” You chimed in, wanting to see the smugness wiped off her face.
“And I’m seeing a therapist.” Spencer continued. “I’m determined to be better.”
She sat there in silence, incapable as always of expressing any remorse.
“I love your daughter and I’m not going anywhere. I’d like it very much if we could somehow start over.” He shot her those puppy dog eyes of his and you sincerely believed if she didn’t give in, she must be the only woman in the world immune to his charms.
“Alright. Alright, Spencer.” She sighed after a short contemplation. “If my little girl is happy, I suppose I have no choice.”
“The bastard actually managed it.” You thought as you witnessed his beaming smile flood the room with light, his vibrancy so infectious you knew even your mother noticed.
“Glad to hear it, mom.” He joked and she choked on the water she had begun to sip.
“Don’t push it.”
“Told you it’d all work out.” He said excitedly while he opened the car door for you, practically skipping out of your mother’s house.
“I know, and she actually invited you round?!” You shook your head in disbelief as he started the engine and drove away from her gated residence.
“Maybe we’ll make these trips a weekly habit.” He suggested, resting his hand soundly on your thigh.
“Not every week. I need some alone with my handsome husband.” You gushed, admiring his perfect side profile.
“You must have me confused with someone else, lady.” He chuckled as he switched on the radio. “Oh my God, baby! This song!”
“No way, I haven’t heard this since, since-“
“That time in college.” He winked at you and you threw your head back in laughter, precious memories flooding your mind as the familiar pop tune hummed on.
“Yeah. That was the first and last time we ever do it on a carnival pedal boat.”
“Hey, never say never- I see a lake right over there.” He pointed out the window as you drove by.
“I don’t think so, buddy.” You slapped his arm playfully. “Those days are behind us, we’re old and boring now.”
“If this is boredom, sign me up for eternity.” A warm smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“God, I love you, Spencer Reid.”
“I love you even more, Mrs Reid.”
#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#matthew gray gubler
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Multi-chapter fic on Ao3
Steve had been enjoying a nice relaxing lounge by the pool despite it being night. He had his hearing aid off and his fruity drink and a romance novel Robin had let him borrow. He was determined to have a good time despite the circumstances.
Someone tapped his foot, scaring the crap out of Steve and making him drop his book and nearly knock over his drink.
It was a fellow cruise passenger and he was saying something. Steve turned his hearing aid back on.
“Sorry, what?”
“I asked why you were out here instead of at the concert,” repeated the man with a smile.
“Oh, um. I’m not actually a fan of metal music. It gives me headaches if I listen to more than one or two songs in a row,” Steve admitted sheepishly.
This stranger was still clearly a metal head, but he looked significantly less scary than most of the ones he had seen so far that day. Everyone Steve met had been nice, but Steve hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone he wasn’t a fan until now. Maybe because it was just the two of them out here and he was smiling so cutely.
“Not a metal fan? Well damn, not to critique your life choices, but I think maybe going on a metal cruise wasn’t an ideal choice for you? I’m Eddie, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”
There were plenty of deck lounges around, all empty, but Eddie sat down on Steve’s right next to his legs.
“Steve. So Steve, why are you on a metal cruise when you don’t like metal? These tickets were not exactly cheap and there’s no way you missed the theme, it was pretty clearly advertised,” Eddie asked teasingly.
Steve looked Eddie over, noting that he was actually pretty cute. Pretty eyes, nice full lips, dimples, and he was that type of lanky Steve was drawn to. He had good skin and his hair had some volume and texture to it, Steve could work with that. Bit of a fixer-upper, but a better starting point than most of the men that had flirted with him since his last failed relationship. He also had the vibe, so Steve decided this guy would be fine to open up to.
“Well, Eddie, I bought this ticket for my dear friend Dustin for his birthday, but then the little shit went and outed me to my parents. Accidentally, of course, and he feels like shit about it. But still, that got me kicked out of my home so maybe I’m being petty but I decided he shouldn’t get to go on this cruise after all. I forgive him, it really was an accident, but still, gotta teach him a lesson.” Steve shrugged. “And I would’ve gotten the ticket refunded but the money would’ve gone back to my parents and they clearly don’t deserve to get anything back from me. So, instead of trying to figure out how to sell a ticket to a very niche interest cruise, I figured I deserved to just come and treat myself for four days before I have to go back to living in my ex-girlfriend’s basement. It’s actually pretty nice to have the ship to myself while all you guys are in there shaking your heads to loud music.” Steve gestured to the pool and the drink.
“Ex- girl friend’s basement?” Eddie asked.
“Shut up, I’m bi.” Steve smacked Eddie on the arm with his book.
Eddie grabbed the book and looked at it as he replied, “Hey, just checking to make sure I’m not barking up the wrong tree.”
“Oh? Is that what you’re doing, barking up my tree?” Steve said, playfully.
“If you’ll let me,” Eddie flirted back.
“So how come you’re not in the show right now?” Steve asked, gently stealing his book back from Eddie’s grasp.
“Oh, I’m touring with those guys right now, I have heard them play the same set like fifteen times already. I’d much rather be out here getting to chat with you. You know you’re beautiful, right? How come you don’t live with your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?” Eddie asked, quite obvious in his fishing for information.
“I’m single and yes, I do know I’m beautiful, but I still like hearing it. Are you like a roadie or something?”
“Actually,” Eddie said, “I’m the lead guitarist in the headlining band. We play tomorrow night. Can I buy you another drink? Maybe dinner?”
“The, uh, the bill goes to our cabins,” Steve answered, too shocked that an apparently famous musician was asking him out to respond appropriately.
“Baby, I’ll put your entire tab on my cabin if you’ll let me. You are the most beautiful, and dare I say cleanest man on this entire boat. Metal heads are great, but they aren’t really my type.”
Steve takes a sip of his cold drink just to make sure he’s not fallen asleep and dreaming. The ocean is calm and the moon is full and he is most definitely awake.
“And what is your type?” Steve asked.
“Handsome men with soft hands who will let me pamper them,” Eddie said, picking up Steve’s hand and feeling his lack of calluses. He placed a kiss onto each finger tip. “These hands aren’t meant for labor, let me spoil you rotten.”
Well, Steve reasoned, even if this ended up being just a weekend fling, it was going to be worth the price of admission.
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Two Days - Jungkook
Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not?
Genre/tags: mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, friends to lovers, biker jungkook, jungkook is a goofball and a simp! :)
Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader
a/n: this is my first ever bts/jk fic, I'm just trying this out since i have some days off from work, hope y'all like it <3
“Please?”
“No.”
“You’re missing out.”
“Jungkook, we’re literally in a Burger King.”
You heard the man playfully saying, “Yes, and?” in a singing tone. All you could do was rolling your eyes in reply. Jeon Jungkook, this guy who had been begging you for his so-called masterplan that he called, “trial date” for weeks, was now yet again begging you for a chance.
You could not exactly pinpoint when it actually began. He was shy the first time you met. You had known the rest of the boys ever since you met Yoongi at an art class. The cold looking guy who was surprisingly friendly and soft-hearted, later on introduced you to the rest of the guys. Jungkook was introduced almost a year later into befriending the group. He was a guy who went to the same gym as Namjoon. They became friends ever since he offered Namjoon a ride one time.
Being the youngest amongst the guys and also the latest you got to meet, you would think that his shyness would linger at least a little bit longer. Then again, if you really think about it, he probably only stayed quiet and shy on the first meeting.
The idea of both of you together was never mentioned until recently. Namjoon was the one who started calling out Jungkook’s odd behavior towards you, but the nail on the coffin was when you all got drunk at Jimin’s house that one time.
It was Jimin’s birthday and truthfully, you knew the guy was loaded rich, but you did not know he was rich with capital R. The selection of bottles in his house was pretty much unlimited from the ones you like to the ones you couldn’t even name. It was five hours into all the celebration and you all were blurting nonsense. You were tipsy, but still aware cause for some reason you were winning all the games that night and got to drink less. But Jungkook on the other hand, who was usually winning everything, was getting pissy cause he kept coming second after you.
“This is unbelievable.” Jungkook groaned, casually throwing the boardgame cards on the table.
“You just have a soft spot for her.” Jin shrugged.
“I do not! I just have a crush on her.” Jungkook retorted back, as if his sentence made any sense.
You heard Hoseok voiced a small “oh” with his usual judgy expression, and the rest were silent for a second, including you.
“I mean…” Jungkook tried to correct himself but stopped mid-way, trying to make up words in his already drunk mind. His eyes went back and forth to everyone before he scoffed. “You all act so surprised, as if you didn’t tease me everyday right after the first time I met Y/N.”
When the room was still silent, Jungkook realized he fucked up, his blurry mind completely ignored the fact that you, the subject of this topic, was in fact also in the room.
“Shit.” Was all he muttered before he excused himself to the bathroom, and did not come out for twenty minutes.
When he was done, everyone had decided to wrap it up due to the awkwardness and the absence of Jungkook himself. He found Taehyung and Jin sleeping on both sides of Jimin’s big couch, and a small smile formed on his lips, shaking his head over the dumb expression they had in their sleep. His stomach soon flipped right after he saw you on the kitchen, making yourself a cup of instant noodle.
“Oh, hey.” You greeted awkwardly. “I got hungry from all that drinking.” You shyly mentioned.
Jungkook only nodded and took a seat on one of the dinning chairs.
“You want some?” You offered, trying to break the ice.
“Y/N stop.” His eyes widened once he realized how bad that sounded. “I mean… I didn’t mean it like that?” He chuckled dryly, it was more of a statement rather than a question.
When you kept quiet but sat down next to him regardless, and ate your noodles, he decided you were at least comfortable enough to hear him talk. “This whole huge crush on you thingy… that’s not gonna ruin our friendship or anything, right? If you’re uncomfortable I’ll just stop showing up when you’re around for a—”
“What?! No! Jungkook, I’m not uncomfortable.” You sighed. “I’m just a bit surprised, I guess.”
“Why though?” He asked innocently, his big doe eyes looking straight at you, making you slightly nervous.
“It’s just… you do realize you’re quite popular right?”
“What’s that gotta do with this situation?”
“I thought I wasn’t your type.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
That was the last civil conversation you had with him until he decided it was a good idea to cling to you almost every single day, pestering on the idea of this whole trial dating. Everyone other than Yoongi, who was neutral (read: don't really care enough to actually voice an opinion at the moment), was pretty much on board with his plan. You being single for a year now definitely did not help your case. They kept saying that you needed to lit up your dating engine again, so it wouldn’t be rusty.
It was not that you did not find Jungkook attractive. Heck, he was one of the most attractive person you had ever laid your eyes on. It was just, weird? He felt like a brother, the same as the rest of the boys. If you didn’t treat any of them different, then you should not with Jungkook either, right?
“Have you maybe considered that maybe she’s tired of your bullshit?” Yoongi blurted with a blank expression, as he continue to munch on his burger.
“It’s only been two weeks.” Jungkook protested. “Besides, you never know 'till you try, right?” He winked at you.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m good, Kookie.” You pinched his cheeks, a little bit too hard.
“H-hey!” He pouted, his cheeks forming even rounder. “Two days! Two days!” He suddenly shouted.
“Oh boy…” Hoseok side-eyed the rest of you, clearly done with the younger one.
“Give me two days, Y/N!” He said with his two fingers right in front of your face. “You don’t have plans this weekend, right?”
“Hey, maybe—“ Namjoon didn’t even get to finish his sentence before the lad interrupted.
“I’ll take you on two dates and then you can decide afterwards.” He grinned, as if that was the most brilliant thing he had ever thought of. “If you still don’t like me after that then I will gracefully back off.” He threw his hands in the air.
“You promise?” You suddenly spoke, after being silent for a while.
“Wait, you’re actually considering—“ Jin stood up from his seat, almost knocking his table.
Jungkook hurriedly covered Jin’s mouth, not letting yet another man finish his sentence again. “I promise!” He saluted, grinning so hard his cheeks almost hurt.
“Are you really sure?” Yoongi whispered to you.
You only shrugged. Truthfully, you were not sure either. But at this point, you just wanted Jungkook to get over his girl hyperfixation of the month. Which was, you.
You just did not buy the story of him being head over heels on you since day one. As if he didn’t look like a Greek god himself? As if you did not know how women and even men would kill just to get a taste of him. You just wanted him to get it over with, so he can realize how weird the whole idea was and went back to being the goofball friend you once knew.
—
Right, so.
Now here you were, basically having a mini dress-up montage moment, picking an outfit for your cinema date. Even after spending almost an hour getting ready you ended up with just wearing your usual crop top and baggy jeans, hoping it will be fine. Clearly you didn’t wanna seem like a try-hard. It was just Jungkook. He had seen you with pajamas and you didn’t hear him complain, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Why did you even go through the trouble to pick an outfit? You wondered yourself.
Ten minutes later and Jungkook was already ringing your phone.
“I’m at your lobby!” He exclaimed loudly over the phone.
“You’re early.”
“Just can’t wait to see you.” You could not see his face, but you knew he was grinning like an idiot. “Hurry down! Oh, and bring your jacket.”
You didn’t expect him to came with a motorbike. A huge one not to mention. Something stirred in your stomach for a millisecond seeing him in a leather jacket.
He took a spare helmet and innocently handed it to you. “Gotta make sure my girl is safe.” He sheepishly said.
You tried your best to ignore the nickname, and spoke. “I didn’t know you ride a motorcycle.” You said, taking the helmet he gave in your hands.
“I’m just too lazy to drive sometimes so I just lift on Hobi’s car.” He shrugged. “Why? Are you scared?” He teased.
“Of course not.” You said and put on the helmet. You did not miss his small snickers when you struggle to hop on his Harley, having to grab him by his shoulders.
“Okay, just wanna let you know, I drive like suuuuuper fast. So, you have to hug me to be safe!” He giggled.
You rolled your eyes, even if he couldn’t see. “I’m just gonna head back upstairs...”
“Don’t be such a sourpuss.” He chuckled. “I’m a good driver, Namjoon approved! But you can grab onto my jacket if you want.”
—
The movie was great.
And that was a lie, cause truth to be told, you could barely focus on the plot. Every time you caught a glimpse of the boy next to you, his eyes were already looking at you. While it was true that you had not been dating for quite some time, you could feel your spidey-sense tingling, as if you were to turn your head towards him, something would happen. Thinking about it was not exactly the best thing for you.
“We’re getting ice cream.” Jungkook cheerfully said, as you both walked out the cinema.
“That’s not a question?” You couldn’t help but to smile at the silliness.
“Not a chance I’m letting you go home yet.”
“Is this a date or a kidnapping?”
“Could be both if you want.” He laughed. “So…” He cutely put his hands in his pockets as you walked.
“So?”
“So… how’s life?”
“You did not just ask me that.” You laughed.
“What? I’m just trying to make actual conversation!” He laughed as well, but later on his expression softened. “You seemed down these past couple of days though?”
You tilted your head slightly. You didn’t think he would notice.
“You… noticed?”
“Of course I did!” He grinned, patting his chest proudly. “You didn’t talk that much at our last movie night at Taehyung’s. You usually love to debate after watching a movie.” He chuckled. "The fact that you're not even starting a discussion right now, is lowkey concerning."
That was because of an entirely different thing, but you chose not to say. “I haven't even told Yoongi.”
“Even if you tell him, he wouldn’t tell anyone either, so what’s your point?”
“That’s fair.” You broke a small smile.
“What happened?” He stopped mid-track, suddenly losing a bit of confidence in his speaking tone. “I mean, only if you’re comfortable enough to tell me…”
Your expression softened. “It’s a bit stupid…”
“It’s okay, I’ll listen!” He nodded towards you. “I’ll just quickly grab those ice cream and we’ll sit down somewhere?”
Minutes later he came back with two ice creams and a big stupid grin plastered on his face as usual. “Here you go, let’s sit down on that bench.”
You nodded and thanked him before following him to the bench.
“Come sit close to me!” He patted right next to him. When you only looked at him blankly. He added, “Please?”
You sat down close to him but left a bit of space enough so that your shoulders wouldn’t touch.
“Are you cold?”
“Uh… no.”
“Okay, good.” He smiled and took a big bite of his ice cream. “So, do you still wanna tell me? Or we could also just sit and talk shit about Jin while we eat ice cream if you don’t want!”
You smiled. Looking into his eyes, you could feel his sincerity. It could be just you, but you felt somewhat… safe.
“I used to date this one guy… We dated for three months before I ended things with him.”
You looked up to Jungkook, expecting to see a negative expression but he remained silent, only nodding to signal you to continue.
“To be fair we haven’t been in touch for almost a year, but he suddenly called me. He was drunk and said a bunch of nonsense. I still replied at first, cause I was worried for his safety. But after I found out he was drunk at home, I bid my goodbye. Then he suddenly said…” You took a deep breath. “He said that I’m a 4.5 with a bitch attitude and being picky won’t help me.” You broke into a sad grin. “It’s stupid, I know—“
“Who is this fucker? Can I beat the shit outta him? How come I’ve never heard about this?!”
“Probably cause this is how you react.” You chuckled. “It had me quite bothered for quite sometime, maybe the fact that I also haven’t dated in a while adds to it, but I guess I feel somewhat better now.”
“So that’s why you said you thought you weren’t my type?”
“Huh?”
“That fucker needs to get his eyes and brain checked.” He shook his head. “You know, it’s fine to not want to settle for less.” He said as he looked at the sun setting in the sky. “He’s just butthurt you don’t want him back.”
You stayed silent but nodded.
“His dick’s probably small anyway.” When you slapped his arm, he laughed. “What? Am I wrong? Why did you even break up with him?”
“He's sexist!”
“And his dick is small.” He followed.
“Jungkook!” You began to laugh as well.
“You know you’re easily a ten, but I’ll give a nine for now.” He said, pretending to be serious with rubbing his chin and squinting his eyes.
“Why? What deduct the one point?”
“Cause you haven’t like me back yet.”
“God, make that at least five points then, I hate you.” You rolled your eyes, but laughed.
He smiled softly. “Feeling better?”
“Well, I guess? But now my ice cream's all melty.” You pouted, trying to lick some that was melting down the cone.
“That’s why you eat fast like me.” He proudly said.
“And have stomach problem? No thanks.”
“Here let me just…” He licked a stripe from your cone and took a big bite. “There.”
You were taken aback. So stunned that you could only blink a few times at him.
“What? Don’t tell me that turned you on?” He smirked.
“You… Jungkook, that’s gross!” You whined, which only resulted in his laughter.
—
The next day Jungkook wanted a full day date. Boy kept saying that he wanted fair chance since it was his last day. He already planned a list of things both of you would do and all, and the first being eating brunch with you.
“Do you really have to come this early?” You complained as you opened your apartment door for the guy.
When the said guy sheepishly didn’t move and enter, you raised one of your eyebrows. His hands were behind his back, clearly holding something, and you can see both of his arms flexed, seemingly grasping something tightly. You were searching for his boyish grin, but his expression seemed worried instead.
“I got you flowers.” He said, sounding discouraged.
“Oh?” You replied, but wondered why he just kept standing and not move.
“I found out last minute that you don’t like flowers…” He frowned. “Yoongi told me in the group chat after I got too excited and sent them a pic of the flowers I got you.”
He looked like a lost puppy, and suddenly you had the urge to hug him to ease all his pain away. You stopped yourself before the impulse got the best of you and you grabbed him by the forearm, dragging him inside and closing the door.
“You can’t stay in that position the whole day, you have to hand me the flowers.” You folded your arms, trying to hold in a chuckle.
“But you don’t like them!”
“I haven’t even seen them.”
He finally moved his hands and revealed a small bouquet of fresh daisies. It was a simple bouquet, nothing too extravagant with a brown wrapping paper. It somehow reminded you of his smile and how radiant he looked when he did so. Yes, you did not like flowers, they were unpractical, it felt like an unnecessary addition, a waste of space. But somehow you like it. It made you feel all warm and fuzzy and it was very pleasant. It made you wanna accept it with open arms. Truthfully, the description did not really feel like it was describing flowers anymore, but you decided to not further ponder on it.
“Thank you.” You took the flowers and sniffed it, before setting it down on your table.
“I’m sorry I didn’t know, I feel so dumb cause everyone knew already and—“
“Hey, we’ve only known each other for three months.” You assured. “Besides, it’s really not much of a big deal, I actually like them.”
“You do???”
“Yeah, they look pretty. I don’t know how long I can keep them looking like that though.”
“Oh my god…” He exhaled deeply. “I was so worried it would be a deal breaker or something. I was literally shaking!”
He laughed and showed his right hand in front of you, it was shaking slightly. You didn’t know why he laughed at it, you didn’t find it funny.
“It happens sometimes when I’m nervous.” He chuckled.
Instead of saying something, you took his hand into yours just by intuitive. It was impulsive, but you let go before he had the chance to intertwine his fingers with yours. He didn’t comment on your behavior, but a smile was still on his face as he waited for you to grab your things to go.
The brunch was on this small cafe near your place. You insisted on paying this time, since he paid for yesterday. The brunch was spent with him trying to sneakily hold your hand, but failed every single time.
Next activity on the list was buying clothes together. As cringey as that sounded, and you even almost opposed the idea, Jungkook said that he needed to buy new outfit and he wanted to hear your feedback. Plus, some of his clothes barely fit him anymore since he decided to become a gym rat.
“You actually look great in those skirt.”
“You’re joking.” You denied, but twirled around in front of the mirror anyway, while trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need the purchase.
“I’ll buy them for you if you won’t.”
“We didn’t have all those money-saving talk with Namjoon only for you to say that.” You folded your arms.
“Oh come on, you look great!” He pointed to you and his lips forming into a small pout. “Besides, we’re on a date today so I think that’s a pretty good excuse.”
“I thought we are here to help you buy some clothes, not buy me skirt that I probably won’t wear that often.”
“Let me spoil you for once… please?” He begged, eyes all sparkly. His lips shined along with his two lip piercings.
“Alright, fine... I’ll get the skirt, but!” You eyed him. “Only if you buy that straight-cut jeans you just tried before.”
“Deal.”
“That’s it? You’re not gonna argue on how those aren’t on trend anymore?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I was gonna buy them anyways. You were practically drooling when I showed you.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you. “Kinda was just waiting for you to admit it…”
You only rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t open your lips to deny his words either.
After you changed back into your clothes and Jungkook paid for the purchases, he went back to you with a sly grin on his face and you immediately suspected something. He came back with a pair of matching string bracelet.
“You can just not wear them later if you don’t want to, but let me be delusional for today, okay?”
You both left the store after you let him put the bracelet on your wrist.
Next in line was spending time on a local amusement park. It was nothing too extreme, just a small carnival that has a few rides and snack booths. The guy kept insisting that you both should take a picture when the sun set.
“Cotton candy!” Jungkook sprinted to the booth like a hungry kid, his laughter could be heard even as him getting far from where you were standing.
You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you walked to his direction.
“Pink, blue, or green?”
“Blue, maybe?”
“Alright.” He grinned and paid the seller as they handed the blue cotton candy stick. “Why blue though?”
“Dunno, just kinda matches your outfit.”
“Sweetheart, I’m wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt.” He giggled.
Which should be a crime! Cause who even looks that good in a basic white t-shirt??? You thought to yourself. “Your jeans, I guess..?”
“If you say so.” He chuckled. “Wanna ride the ferris wheel?”
“Being in a such small space with you sounds dangerous.”
“I’ll protect you, babe.” He winked.
“The danger is you, babe.” You mocked.
He smirked, clearly amused. “Well, at least I got you to call me babe, that’s a win for me.”
“You’re anno— hmph!” He stuffed a ball of cotton candy in your mouth, laughing continuously at the sight.
After wandering around for a while and finishing the cotton candy, Jungkook dragged you to the shooting game. You refused, saying how you never really win these kind of games, but knowing him, losing was never really his thing. You saw how big the main prize was and you know Jungkook, you knew his ego, you knew damn well that was what he was aiming.
“If you’re aiming for that giant teddy bear, don’t. We can’t carry that thing around...”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” He didn’t listen and instead paid for the game tickets.
“We can’t carry that in your motorcycle, that’s like another passenger!”
“Just watch me.” He smirked, already aiming with the toy gun.
You rolled your eyes, there’s really no telling him on this. “Fine, whatever.”
After just two shots, you hear him jump in celebration, fist in the air and the staff rang the bell for him winning the price. You were ready to complain, but the staff handed you a small frog plushie instead. You looked at Jungkook and saw his boyish grin, his eyes almost turned into crescents. You looked back at the plushie in your hands and couldn’t lie to yourself, it was very adorable.
“You didn’t aim for the grand prize?”
“You told me not to.” He shrugged. “Plus, you like frogs, right?”
“Well…”
“I wished I took a picture of your expression when they handed you the plushie.” He laughed, a soft blush decorating his cheeks.
You finally agreed to ride the ferris wheel with him. The park was going to close in an hour anyway, and you thought why not, it wouldn’t hurt anyone to go for one ride.
You sat across him, hugging the frog plushie on your lap. It was silent for the first few minutes, but it was comfortable, not awkward. You were just looking at the view from above and silently admiring it.
“Did you have fun?” He asked. Suddenly your attention went back to him and his smile.
“Well, yeah… I did.” You nodded. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me, I had fun too.” He smiled. “Everything’s fun with you though so I may be biased…”
You didn’t really know what to say to counter his words. You just smiled and went back to looking at the window.
“Mind if I sit next to you?”
“Uh… sure. Just be careful, you might tilt the cart.”
Jungkook carefully moved to sit next to you. He muttered a small “phew” as he sat down. “Wow, the view’s better here.” He said, looking straight at you.
“What do you mean? How—” And then it clicked to you. “Oh my god… shut up!” You hit his arm, and he laughed.
“Take my compliment for once!”
“Never.” You stuck your tongue out.
The ride soon came to an end. You remembered that you promised Jungkook to take a picture with the sunset, but out of nowhere it started to rain. Although it was just small drizzle, it’s hard to take picture and avoid getting soaked at the same time. You both ran to the nearest sheltered place, with Jungkook’s leather jacket covering both of you.
You said your sorry about his now wet jacket, but the boy did not seem to be bothered, as you can see how bright and happy he was, just from running with you under the rain. You sighed, but an idea came to you as soon as you saw a photo booth machine, not far from where you were standing.
“Do you… maybe wanna do that instead?”
“Photobooth?” He looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe your words.
“Why? You don’t want to?”
“No! I want to!” He said, almost too quickly. “But it’s just weird that you suggest it. But it’s a good weird!” He chuckled.
“I promised you a picture, so we’re getting a picture.”
“Aww.” Jungkook pout his lips in a kissy way, teasing you.
“Let’s go before I regret it.” You dragged him inside the booth.
The first pose you playfully put peace signs behind Jungkook’s head, giving him bunny ears, while he only stuck out his tongue. The second one, Jungkook made a love sign with both of his hands, and you surprised him with a middle finger, which he yelled at you afterwards, but couldn’t really continue to complain as the countdown for the next photo were already starting.
Since Jungkook spent at least three and a half seconds with his protest, you both were panicking for the last picture, running out of ideas. As the countdown stating two, he suddenly pulled you closer and leaned on your shoulder. The shutter flashed and the photo was taken. You were still in awe and couldn’t process what just happened. You only followed when you saw Jungkook making his way out from the booth to collect the picture.
The guy giggled like a highschool boy, taking the printed photos, then giving one copy to you. You stared at the last picture, how genuine Jungkook’s smile when he leaned on your shoulder, while you had your eyes widened in surprise. You felt your face heating in embarrassment.
“Ugh… can we just cut out the last picture?”
“I was thinking the same thing, I’m putting it on my wallet!” He said, eyes still looking up and down on the set of photos.
When you only looked at him in disbelief, he uttered a small “what?”, and laughed.
Both of you ended up eating some cups of ramen in a nearby convenience store, as you wait for the rain to stop pouring. He took you home right after, insisting on waking you to your door.
“Take care of little Kookie for me, yeah?” He said, pointing at your frog plushie, as you stopped at your unit’s front door.
“Why is he named after you?” You chuckled.
“I’m his father!” He pretended to be offended.
“Well, say bye to your papa now, little Kookie.” You waved the plushie’s small hand to him.
Jungkook felt his heart somersault. He turned away for a second, covering his mouth. He cleared his throat. “Well, uh… thank you again, for today…”
“Yeah! Thank you too…” You chewed your inner lips, hugging your plushie close.
“I uh…” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “I just wanna let you know that what I said to you… about deciding whether you like me or not after the dates… I was just saying stuff. I don’t wanna pressure you into deciding your feelings for me or anything, I genuinely just wanna spend some time with you, and I’m thankful for your time.”
You nodded, smiling at him. Your eyes locked with each other for a quick second. Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the lamp in front of your door that you recently just got replaced. Either way, you could see the stars in Jungkook’s eyes and his skin glowed, but so did his lips. They were practically sparkling and glossy, you wondered if he had put any lip balm over it. For a moment, your attention stopped at his lips, just wondering how it would feel against yours. Would it be soft? Would you feel the cold metal of his lip piercing against your skin?
The man in front of you seemed to be lost in his thoughts as well. You swore you saw his eyes darted to your lips for a quick glance, before coming back to your eyes. Just when he leaned down a bit to your height level…
You froze. What was that? You felt your stomach turned, you couldn’t exactly point out whether it was due to nervousness, or if you were simply just afraid. You took a step back and your back almost hit the front door.
“You should head back, it could rain again soon…” You said, looking away.
“Oh.” There was disappointment in his voice. “Okay then… bye.” He waved to you awkwardly and walked away.
As you see his figure walking away, you went inside your apartment and closed the door behind you. Sitting down on your sofa, you put your hand over your chest. Funny how your heart was still beating so fast. You were panicking, feeling everything all at once. Nervousness, excitement, curiosity, but mostly fright. The unknown territory was making you scared. The new feelings you were feeling, you didn’t even know if it would be okay to feel it.
Still laying down on your sofa, you took your phone and dialed your best friend.
“You called.” You heard Yoongi’s voice from the other line.
“Why are you saying it like that.”
“You only call when you’re stressing over something, otherwise, you only text.”
You hate how smart and observant your friend was sometimes. “I think I feel something for Jungkook.”
“Isn’t that… I don’t know, good?”
“I don’t know… it just hit me like a truck, okay? One minute I wanna punch that stupid grin out of his face, the next thing I know, his lips looked so shiny and he got me wondering if his piercings would feel cold against my lips.”
“Okay, wow.” Yoongi said in amusement. “Care to elaborate?”
“What if I’m just… super horny or something? I mean I haven’t been with anyone for like god knows how long now, and I could just be desperate and Jungkook is good looking, extremely good looking may I add, and—“
“Okay, okay… Y/N, pause for a second.” Yoongi sighed. “So you think you might be just horny and you feel bad for it?”
“Of course I feel bad! I don’t wanna use Jungkook like that! Just because he has this stupid crush on me, doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want with him. I’m not that kind of person!” You exclaimed, the volume of your voice getting slightly higher.
“Tell me, how do you feel after the dates? Did you enjoy it?”
“Well yeah, I had a great time actually. I didn’t expect Jungkook to be that caring, and he’s actually very good at initiating conversation…” You wondered what else you could point out.
“During that time, did Jungkook mention or do anything sexual?”
“N-no! Of course not! Yoongi, do you take me as the fuck-on-the-first-date kind of person???” You said, slightly offended.
“So you like him.” He stated casually.
“I’m sorry?”
“You caught feelings. Just admit that Jungkook has officially win you over.”
“I… what…”
“I knew it. I shouldn’t have let you go on those dates, now both of you are gonna be so gross when we hang out...” You heard your friend groaned.
“I like him?” You asked, more to yourself rather than to your best friend.
“Maybe you should call Jungkook instead and tell him.”
You widened your eyes in horror. “No way, that guy only has a crush on me, it’s more of a hyperfixation, like I’m his girl of the month or something. I’m sure it’s not like how you think it is.”
“You should ask him yourself instead of making assumptions, just saying. And you know…” Yoongi paused for a second before continuing. “I think that kid is actually a good person, despite how dumb and annoying he looks.” When he got no respond from you, he spoke again. “Alright, I’ll leave you with your thoughts, just make sure you’ll talk with him about this, okay? Take care, Y/N.”
Yoongi hang up the call while you were still sitting down, expression blank, staring at the wall in front of you.
—
Jungkook didn’t text you at all after the date. Not like you text each other regularly, but you lowkey expected him to after. You wanted to call him, or at least text him. You wanted to say how you feel but you were again, scared. You began to think if you were reading it wrong. He was popular, you wondered if he just acted like that to everyone, if you were catching feelings, while he just wanted to hang out and have a bit of fun. After all, he never really explicitly said that he had feelings for you, all you knew that he admitted his giant crush for you while being under the influence of alcohol.
You never hear from Jungkook again until the next week. Hoseok invited you all to game night over his place. You wanted so badly to bail and fake being sick, but Yoongi picked you up, basically forcing you to come and face your problem like an actual adult.
With all these new and mixed emotions that you were still getting used to, the thought of seeing Jungkook in person sounded so overwhelming. He would probably just act like how he usually would, because of course, why wouldn’t he. After all you were the one who suddenly took a weird turn.
“Finally!” Hoseok shouted, as he opened the door for both of you and Yoongi.
“Come on, switch with Namjoon, he sucks!” Jin spoke while his eyes still not leaving the TV screen and his fingers loud against the controller.
They were playing Tekken 8 on Hoseok’s Playstation. You saw how Namjoon was basically getting his ass kicked, playing as a Panda character, while Jin quickly leading himself towards victory using the character that coincidentally has the same name as him.
Jin Kazama wins.
The oldest one screamed happily, while Namjoon’s protests and excuses could be heard very loudly. Everyone laughed at the two, so it was easy to spot the one who didn’t laugh as much, whose expression didn’t hold that much excitement, sitting on the edge of the sofa just playing with his phone instead.
“Y/N, come on!” Jin patted the on the carpet to the now empty seat next to him, since Namjoon already excused himself to get more popsicles from the fridge.
You followed and sat down next to Jin on the carpet, which was directly in front of Jungkook, who was slouching on the couch.
Sitting down quietly, you took the controller and beginning to scroll through the rooster of characters. You chose the character named Lili, while Jin stayed with his current main.
When you beat Jin and the sound of your friends cheering loudly was heard, you began to feel a little bit relaxed, at the very least you could forget for a moment about your situation with Jungkook. That was until, you heard Yoongi spoke.
“Jungkook, your turn.”
You immediately turned your head towards your best friend, eyeing him straight. How could he betray you like this was beyond you.
“Nah, you play I’m not really in the mood.” He rejected politely.
Your eyes went back to the screen because you refuse to see Jungkook’s expression. You pretended to busy yourself pressing the dpad button up and down on the character choices.
“This is the first time I’ve ever heard Jungkook refusing a match.” Taehyung said while munching on his potato chips.
“Yeah, that’s so unlike you, man!” Hobi joined. “Come on, we all know you’re good, but Y/N doesn’t know that yet!” He added.
A small groan came out from Jungkook’s mouth before he stood up, and once again everyone cheered. Jin stood to switch seats with him. The man locked his eyes with you once, before sitting down and picking up the controller in his hand. He didn’t take too long picking a character. His choice landed on a boxer character.
The match went quietly with only the sound of the video game from the speaker. Your friends behind you somehow went silent as well, and the atmosphere in the room became very tense.
“Is it just me or it kinda feels like they’re actually fighting with each other…” Jin whispered to Hoseok who was sitting next to him. Hoseok only signaled with his hand shaking next to his neck to cut it out, while the rest only widened their eyes and try their best not to make any comment.
You pretended like you did not hear any of it and kept mashing the controller buttons. The milliseconds of your attention being taken away from the game gave your opponent a leaway to break your combo and finally beating down your character.
Steve Fox wins.
“All right, Yoongi you switch with me, I’m gonna go get some air.” You excused yourself and headed to the balcony, closing the door behind you.
Technically it was not a lie. It just got a bit stuffy with eight people inside an apartment living room. Especially when the guy you suddenly had feelings for was in the equation as well.
You searched your back pocket for your pod and cursed silently when it was nowhere inside your jeans pocket.
“Looking for your vape?” Jungkook entered the balcony uninvited, wiggling your small disposable vape pod in front of you. But when you were about to take it from him, he withdrew his hand. “I thought you’ve stopped.”
“I did. I only do it when I’m nervous. That’s why it’s a disposable.” You said weakly.
“I noticed.” He replied in a monotone, now pocketing the pod inside his pants, refusing to give it to you.
“You smoke, don’t act all high.” You retorted.
“Well, have you seen me smoke these past few weeks?”
“No, actually… yeah, now that I think of it, you didn’t even smoke once when we went out—“ You stopped when the memories of your date went through your head. “Jungkook, about that…” You bit your lips, nervously facing him.
He also turned his body to your direction, looking at you directly. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly said.
“Huh? For what?”
“I feel like I’ve pressured you into something you don’t actually want. I’ve been thinking and re-thinking about it the past few days and it drives me crazy. I may have feelings for you, but that doesn’t give me the right to drag you along to do stuff with me just because you enjoyed spending time with me as a friend.”
“Wait, Jungkook, I don’t feel that way!”
“I know! That’s why I apologize—“
“No! I mean, I didn’t feel like you dragged me along or anything. I genuinely enjoyed our date and…” You looked away, taking a deep breath before continuing. “If I’m not reading it wrong, you’re saying you truly have feelings for me?”
“Isn’t that obvious already?”
“Well, I thought I was just your girl obsession of the week or something… You have celebrity crushes left and right, okay?! Hell, you even had a crush on Namjoon at one point!!!”
“The Namjoon crush was a joke. Man just got some nice thighs and I was just admiring it.” He defended.
You took another deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry as well… the emotions were all just come clashing to me at once and I just told you to go home instead of dealing with it.”
“But, you rejected my kiss...” He said with a weak voice, you almost didn’t catch it.
“Cause I haven’t figured out what I want yet. I thought I was just so touch deprived that your lips looked inviting that day.” You admitted while cursing yourself secretly inside your mind. That was lowkey embarrassing.
“Try being me, your lips look inviting every single day!” He exclaimed, his mood now seemed to be improving.
“Be serious.” You hit his sides. He muttered an “ow” but you doubted it even hurt the slightest bit.
“So now you’ve figured out what you want?” His doe eyes looking at you directly.
“I’m getting there… I guess.” You broke the eye contact, it was a bit too much for you and suddenly you felt a bit sweaty. “But I think I like you too.”
“Say that again while looking at me.”
“Hell no.” You suddenly covered your face with both of your hands.
“Please?” He grabbed your wrists, softly trying to prey open your hands. “I just want to have the visual memory of it captured in my brain.”
When you finally loosened your grip, he took his chance and held both of your hands in his. He grabbed them for a few seconds, intertwining his fingers with yours, before letting them go. He traced his fingers along your right wrist where you wore the bracelet that he got you, the one he got matching with his, and then moved his hands up to cup your face. The entire time he did all that, you could actually feel the shakiness in his hands, and it melted your heart.
“Can I?”
You nodded and he did not waste any second before dipping in and closing the gap between you.
Oh boy you were right, his piercings did feel cold against your lips, but that was only for a quick second before everything felt warm and soft, and your mind became blurry. You were moving your lips against his carefully, afraid to accidentally hurt him by his piercing, but instead earned a small bite on your bottom lip from Jungkook. You gasped and pulled away, hitting his chest. Since when were you in his embrace? That you did not know.
“We gotta head back now or they’ll get suspicious.”
He giggled and kissed your forehead. “They’re already suspicious, babe.”
“Still, we gotta head back…”
“You guys done making out?! We’re hungry!!!” You heard Jimin shouted from inside the apartment.
Jungkook and you looked at each other with widened eyes, before laughing in unison. He pecked you on the lips one more time before running back inside with you, holding hands.
Thank you for reading! 🌸
#jungkook scenarios#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#bts imagines
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Jay feels it's time to give you and your boyfriend, Riki, the talk.. with the (not so helpful) help of his other fellow hyungs
suggestive, crack, some swearing ♡ wc: 822 · requested
You and Riki exchange confused looks, he's trying to communicate with you through his eyebrows but you sit there shrugging at him in reply.. You're both just as clueless as one another.
"What's going on..?" You finally decide to speak up cautiously, "Did something happen?"
Jay and Heeseung glance at one another, crickets.
Jake's gaze is set on the ceiling and Sunghoon's next to him, looking over at Jay on the other end.
The four boys are sat lined up on a bunk bed opposite to the one you and Riki are currently sat on.
Jay had pulled you and your boyfriend into one of the dorm rooms without warning, privately, although you were sat there wondering what was private about having Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon there too.
"Nothing bad," Jay finally speaks, "I- We just needed to talk to you about something,"
Riki sighs, "Then talk..?"
It's now Heeseung's turn to speak up, "Last night we heard some.."
He gulps obnoxiously loudly,
"..Some noises, coming from your room and we just wanted to make sure the two of you are being safe,"
You can't help but try to stiffle a chuckle, knowing exactly what they were reffering to. You look over at your boyfriend, he's hiding his face behind his hands.
"I told you to turn the volume down," Riki groans, he's irritated and embarrassed. You can't help but to continue chuckling away.
"She was showing me stupid tiktoks,"
Jake laughs at the situation, knowing he was the one who originally sent you those tiktoks. He apologises swiftly when Jay gives him a look.
"Ok, well- still, you're at that age now where we should talk ab-" Jay tries to continue but is cut off by a distressed Riki,
"Why are they here," He motions towards a smiling Jake and a dead silent Sunghoon, "You may as well have invited the other two since you summoned a council meeting to talk about my sex life,"
You almost snort.
"Babe, this isn't funny,"
"Their intentions are good.." Your voice trails off quietly,
"Why are we here?" Jake suddenly pipes up, his question being mainly directed towards Sunghoon,
"I don't know," The boy next to him shrugs, "I just wanted to listen in,"
"Can we please focus for a second," Jay's borderline irritated voice is heard, "So as I was saying-"
"Wait but Riki told me they already had sex..?"
Your eyes widen at Jake's comment, Sunghoon gasps quietly. You feel your cheeks starting to warm. Riki's gaze is now set on you, he's wondering if you're going to get upset at him for sharing everything with Jake. You didn't care.
Jay's eyes close with a sigh, "Can you two get out,"
"But I didn't say anything," Sunghoon's tone is defensive, yet it only takes one look from Jay for the two boys to quickly hurry out of the dorm room.
"Is it true..? Look, we just want to help," Heeseung speaks softly, you wonder if your cheeks look as bright red as they currently feel.
"It's normal to want to explore at your age," Jay adds, the boy beside him nods in agreement.
You play with your fingers that lay in your lap, Riki coughs beside you. He's running his hands through his hair, the poor boy does not want to be there right now. What seemed like a funny situation a few moments ago has turned into somewhat of a bit more serious conversation now.
"You can always come to us with questions, you know that, right?"
"Thank you, hyung, but are we done here..?" Riki groans,
After a few more minutes of Jay and Heeseung explaining the importance of using protection, Riki successfully manages to push the older boys through the door and out of the dorm room, leaving you a giggling mess on the bed.
"Thank fuck that's over," Your boyfriend sighs as he closes the door, leaning against it when it shuts.
His eyes settle back on you, you motion for him to join you back on the bed. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as the tall boy follows your order, you're still smiling.
"You know, Jay had a good point. It's normal for us to want to explore..."
"Mhm," Riki tackles you softly backwards onto the mattress, "What are you implying?"
Your fingers run through the soft strands of his hair as he attacks your neck with soft bites, and kisses. You can't help but giggle at the tickling sensation.
"Hmh.. Should we continue exploring?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. Riki's hand finds its way under your shirt, smoothing the warm skin above your hips.
"Ni-kiiiiiiiii, are you still in there!?" Jake's excited voice is heard before he leaves a series of loud knocks on the wooden door, "Unlock the door~"
You errupt into quiet laughter as Riki's head falls into the crook of your neck with a muttered 'what the fuck...'
#enhypen hard thoughts#riki smut#enhypen imagines#enhypen smut#enha x reader#niki smut#niki imagines#enhypen hard hours#enha#riki-dazed#enhypen crack#enhypen fluff
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The Girlfriend Test
Lando Norris x girlfriend!Reader
Summary: no new LN merch is deemed ready for sale unless it passes the girlfriend test (or in which you are Lando’s favorite hoodie thief and the sight of another driver’s brand on you drives him just a little bit crazy)
You hear the front door open and close, followed by the sounds of Lando rummaging around in the entryway. “Babe, I’m home!” He calls out.
You’re curled up on the couch in his latest hoodie design, a soft charcoal grey number with black sleeves and his LN logo embroidered over the heart.
“In here!” You reply. Lando comes into the living room and smiles when he sees you wearing his new creation.
“Well hello there, hoodie thief,” he says, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before flopping down on the couch next to you. “So I see you found my newest sample.”
You grin and snuggle further into the super soft fleece. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my hoodie now.”
Lando laughs and tugs lightly on the hood. “Oh is it now? I could’ve sworn this was a prototype I brought home from my design meeting a few days ago.”
“Nope, definitely mine,” you say cheekily. “It’s so cozy I don’t think I can ever take it off.”
“In that case, I guess it passes the girlfriend test with flying colors,” Lando declares. At your confused look, he elaborates. “Oh, I never told you about the girlfriend test? I can’t launch a new LN design until you have stolen it out of my closet. That’s how I know for sure it’s comfy enough for my fans.”
You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re telling me every hoodie so far has passed this supposed test?”
“You got it,” Lando grins. “I’ll leave the samples laying around and if you end up snagging one and wearing it all the time, I know it’s prime merchandise.”
You think back and realize it’s true — Lando’s hoodies have a habit of migrating into your wardrobe. The papaya one is your go-to for grocery store runs. The tie-dye version is your favorite for lazy Sundays. Even the bold purple hoodie he released last month has already earned a permanent place on your desk chair.
“So you mean to tell me this was all part of your master plan?” You ask in mock offense. “And here I thought I was sneakily stealing your comfiest clothes.”
“Baby, if I really didn’t want you wearing my stuff, I wouldn’t make it so tempting to take,” Lando says sincerely, wrapping an arm around you. “But it makes me so happy to see you in my designs, wearing my brand.”
You cuddle into his shoulder. “That’s really sweet, babe.”
“Anything for my number one fan and favorite hoodie model,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of your head.
You snuggle together in contented silence for a few minutes, your head tucked perfectly under his chin.
“So, how was the simulator today?” You ask. “Get some good practice in for Monza this weekend?”
Lando nods. “Yeah, had a really solid session. Tweaked a few things with the setup that I think will help with the low downforce.”
“Nice,” you say. “Maybe another podium this week?”
“We’ll see,” Lando replies. “Ferrari looked quick in Spa so it could be tough. But I feel good going into the weekend.”
“Well, I know you’ll kill it babe,” you say supportively. Lando smiles gratefully and pulls you closer.
“But anyway, enough about F1. How was your day off?” He asks.
You launch into a recap of your relaxed day — sleeping in, catching up on chores, and working on some creative projects you’ve had on the backburner. Lando listens intently, asking questions and commenting on the new songs and recipes you’re dying to try. The conversation flows easily, as it always does between you two.
Before you know it, Lando’s stomach rumbles loudly and you both crack up. “I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” you say, checking your phone. “Pizza sound good?”
“You read my mind,” Lando replies. While you call in the usual order from your favorite local pizza joint, Lando queues up Netflix and scrolls through options for tonight’s viewing.
Thirty minutes later you’re back on the couch, the coffee table littered with pizza boxes and cans of soda. Lando hits play on an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and you settle in, toes tucked under his legs to stay cozy.
You’re only halfway through the episode when you feel Lando’s gaze on you. You turn and find him staring at you wearing his newest hoodie creation, a small smile on his lips.
“What’s that look for?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza.
Lando shakes his head, the smile growing wider. “Nothing really. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”
You tilt your head curiously and he continues. “I have my dream job, getting to race cars for a living. And then I come home to you and … I don’t know. It just feels really good. Like everything is kind of falling into place.”
You set down your pizza slice and cuddle up to him. “Aww babe. That’s so sweet.” You give him a greasy kiss on the cheek. “I’m the lucky one you know. I get to see you living your dream every day. And then I get to be here to celebrate the wins with you and cheer you up after the tough days. It’s pretty amazing.”
Lando wraps both arms around you in a hug. “Love you so much,” he says softly.
“Love you more,” you whisper back, your head tucked perfectly under his chin once again.
***
The next evening, you’re sprawled across the bed browsing on your phone when you hear Lando come home.
“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out in a sing-song voice. You grin, expecting him to come give you a kiss. But instead you hear his footsteps stop abruptly.
“Babe, what … is that?” Lando asks slowly.
You look up confused. “What do you mea-”
Then you spot what he’s staring at in horror: the soft teal hoodie you’re wearing with an embroidered Enchanté logo across the front.
“Oh this?” You say casually. “It’s from Daniel’s new merch drop. The fleece is so soft, I couldn’t resist snagging one.”
Lando’s jaw drops open. “You … you bought a hoodie? From a competing merch brand?”
You stifle a laugh at how seriously Lando is taking this. “Well yeah, you gotta support your friends right? And I told you how comfy it looked in his posts.”
Lando just blinks slowly, looking utterly betrayed. You almost feel bad for riling him up.
“Babe, come on, don’t look at me like that! You know I’m your number one fan.” You get up and go to hug him, but Lando dodges you.
“Nope. No hugs until that … that enemy hoodie comes off,” he says dramatically.
Now you really have to hold back your laughter. “Lando, don’t be silly.”
But he crosses his arms and sticks his chin up. “I’m dead serious, Y/N. My own girlfriend, wearing another man’s merch!” He shakes his head in despair.
You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his antics. Time to have some more fun with this.
“Well if you’re going to be like that, maybe I’ll just keep it on,” you say nonchalantly, snuggling back into the ridiculously soft fleece.
Lando’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”
You raise your eyebrows challengingly. “Try me.”
You stare each other down for a few tense moments, before Lando huffs loudly.
“Fine then. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” And with that ominous statement, he lunges forward and lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder.
“Lando!” You shriek through laughter. “Put me down!”
But he marches down the hall determinedly, you still slung over his shoulder. He brings you into the living room and gently tosses you onto the couch. Before you can react, he rips the Enchanté hoodie up over your head in one swift move.
“Lando!” You squeal, trying to reach for the hoodie, but he’s quicker. In a flash, he has the offending article of clothing in his grip.
“How could you bring this … this enemy propaganda into our home?” Lando accuses dramatically. He holds the hoodie between two fingers like it’s contaminated.
You have to press a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. Lando looks utterly scandalized at the sight of you in his rival’s merch.
“I’m sorry babe, but you left me no choice,” Lando says solemnly. And with that, he crosses the room, opens the fireplace, and tosses the hoodie in.
You gasp loudly. “Lando Norris, did you just burn my hoodie?”
“I had to protect the sanctity of this home! Can’t have you falling for another man’s branding,” Lando exclaims. But you can see his facade cracking as he fights back a smile of his own.
You get up from the couch and poke him in the chest. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”
Lando grins sheepishly. “Maybe. But you love me.”
You roll your eyes but can’t fight back your own smile. “Debatable at the moment,” you joke.
Lando pouts and gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “Come onnnn, you know I’m your favorite driver.”
You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmm well Daniel does give the best hugs ...”
“Hey!” Lando exclaims and tackles you into a bear hug. You dissolve into giggles as he squeezes you tight and sways you back and forth.
“Nope, absolutely not allowed,” he declares, still holding you captive.
You lean back to look up at him with a smile. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because you’re my girl and I don’t share,” Lando states matter-of-factly. His eyes are soft now as he gazes down at you.
You feel your heart melt a little. You stand on your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. “You’re right, I’m all yours Lando.”
His answering smile is dazzling. But then a thought seems to occur to him and a grin spreads across his face.
In one smooth motion, he strips off the neon green hoodie he’s wearing, leaving just a black t-shirt underneath. Before you can react, he pulls it down over your head, enveloping you in soft fleece that smells like him.
“There. That’s better,” Lando declares satisfied.
You snuggle happily into Lando’s worn hoodie, his warmth still lingering in the fabric. Looking down, you recognize it as the exclusive design he wore constantly last season.
Lando’s eyes crease with happiness as he looks at you swimming in his hoodie. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling you close again.
You nuzzle into his chest, perfectly content.
“Am I forgiven for my momentary lapse in loyalty?” You ask cheekily, peering up at him.
Lando pretends to consider this for a moment. “Hmmm, I guess I can let it slide this one time,” he teases back. “But only because you look so damn cute in my clothes.”
You smile and tighten your arms around him. You sway together slowly, Lando humming tunelessly under his breath. The fireplace crackles gently beside you.
After a few moments, Lando speaks again, his voice quiet. “You know I was only joking around before, right? You can wear whatever you want babe.”
You lean back to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm but serious now.
You touch his cheek softly. “Of course I know that Lando. Your hoodies might be the comfiest, but they’re not the only clothes I own.”
Lando nods, looking relieved that you understand. “I just never want you to feel like you have to choose between me and your own style or interests.” His voice is earnest. “I want you to always feel free to be yourself.”
Your heart swells at his words. You reach up and kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, Lando is smiling again.
“Thanks babe,” you say. “That really means a lot to me. And same to you, obviously.”
Lando grins. “Of course, it’s you and me against the world! Oh, and McLaren against the other teams,” he adds cheekily.
You laugh and snuggle back into his chest. “Yes, McLaren over all,” you agree, just to make him happy.
“That’s my girl,” Lando says again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
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In my life (I love you more)
Part 2 of Say Something (Alternate ending)
Summary: Navigating pregnancy is an adventure on its own, but doing it with your recently divorced ex-husband is on a whole new level. But maybe it's the perfect opportunity to find your kinship once again.
Word count: 8.3k
Tags: Female reader, established relationship, ex-wife reader, reader is an architect, cheating, smut, pregnancy symptoms, pregnancy sex, fingering and oral sex, lactation kink (briefly), chilbirth (not descriptive), lots of fluff, open ending, happy ending, not beta read
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Notes: Again, sorry if it's rushed or something, I was just going with the flow. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
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It’s different getting settled on your new, divorced life, and with a baby on the way. You kept trying to establish a new routine in your new place, while going over and over on what to do in your head.
You knew you were keeping the baby, because that’s something you always wanted. And for a few weeks, you weren’t sure if you would tell Lewis.
Then, you started thinking about going through the pregnancy alone, which you knew you couldn’t do. Then you thought if, god forbid, something happened to you during childbirth, if you died, who would take care of your child? What would happen to your baby? But also, you got lost in thoughts about the future, about the kid not having a father growing up, about your kid finding out you had hidden them from their father. You wasted only a couple of weeks until you made up your mind.
You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night keeping something like this from your ex-husband.
That’s how you were a little over twelve weeks when you finally sent Lewis an email. You could’ve called or texted him, but you were only willing to talk in person.
I’m not sure if you’re interested in hearing anything from me now, but I urge you to come meet me this Saturday at 11 am. I have some important things to talk about with you.
Attached, you sent him the address of your new home. It was a complete shot in the dark, adding the fact that he never replied to your email, you were unsure if he was gonna show up.
Hugging yourself inside your winter coat, you wondered if you did right by inviting him to your home. But then again, you didn’t want to have this conversation in public and risk Lewis being recognised.
You made tea and were waiting outside on the porch when he finally showed up, right on time.
God, he was easily the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, still. He was dressed in a dark blue coat, and simple cargo pants. He stopped when he saw you, visibly emotional.
“Hi, lo- Y/N” he almost slipped up.
“Hi, Lewis. I’m glad you came,” you whispered with a small smile.
You were just as stunning as the day Lewis saw you for the first time, beautiful skin, sweet smile and the kindest eyes.
“What happened? Do you need help?” He asked, and you just shook your head, with a small smile, and he added “you look so content. So different from the last time I saw you.”
“I am, Lewis. Still adapting but I really am,” you gestured for the house, you started walking, “come on in. It’s cold outside.”
You two entered, and removed your shoes by the door, getting comfortable.
“I need to tell you something, Lewis.”
“Is it about the divorce? You know I would come back to you whenever, you just need to say the word and I ca-”
As he started rambling, you just removed your coat, showing your little baby bump, now starting to show. Lewis stopped talking abruptly. He was shocked, jaw slack as he stared from your face to your belly a couple of times.
“I’m dreaming,” he turned around, slapping his own cheek as if to wake up.
“I’m pregnant, Lewis.”
Lewis turned around again, taking in your figure. You were wearing those elegant pajama sets you’d always wear whenever you wanted to feel comfortable at home, but the shirt was hugging your figure tightly, specifically around your middle, displaying the baby bump.
He felt a lump on his throat. He had dreamt of this throughout your relationship, but even more after he lost you. Lewis would dream of you and your family almost everyday, waking up crying over what his mistake cost him.
But now, now you were right in front of him, pregnant with his kid.
You mistook his silence for confusion, so with a heavy heart, you said:
“The baby is yours, but I don’t mind if you want to take a paternity test. I know it’s been a few months with no contact, so I understand if you have doubts ab-”
“No, no! I believe you- I do!” He interrupted your turn to ramble, “I guess I’m just a little bit shocked.”
There’s a brief, awkward silence as you two stood there. Lewis was staring at you so intently, so in awe that it made you squirm, so you walked further inside, going to the kitchen to leave your cup of tea, now empty by the sink. Lewis still walked after you, still looking at you like you had hung the moon or something.
“You’re stunning, Y/N. Just how I imagined you would be when pregnant.” He whispered. You felt yourself blush with the open compliment.
“Thank you, the morning sickness is dying down now, so I’m feeling much better these past few days.” You told him.
Someone rang the doorbell, and you went to check followed by Lewis. You opened the door to your new neighbor from down the road. He greeted you quickly, and handed you a small box full of cherry-tomatoes.
“Oh, thank you so much, James! You’re a lifesaver!” You waved at him, as he got in his car and drove away.
Happily skipping back to the kitchen, you washed and put the cherry-tomatoes on a plate, seasoning it with a little bit of salt and pepper. You ate the cherry-tomatoes raw, only after the second bite, noticing Lewis was still there, even more confused.
“Who’s that guy?” Lewis pointed to the door. He didn’t like the idea of other men coming to visit you. Especially that James guy who looked at you as if you were the most beautiful goddess to grace the earth. Well, you were the most beautiful goddess, but still, only Lewis looked at you like that.
“He’s my neighbor down the road, a couple of kilometers down. Him and his mom have a small plantation of fruits and vegetables. I told her I was craving cherry-tomatoes and she kindly sent them to me,” you said, taking another bite right after, “this is the best I’ve ever had. So fresh!” You exclaimed, eating a couple more.
Lewis looked at you, giddy with your little cherry-tomatoes, and he felt something in his chest expand. He smiled at you, looking so happy and healthy. The last two images he had of you were, you miserable around the house in Monaco, and the other was of you making love with him so passionately but so sad. The last time he touched you intimately, and lovingly, it was painfully obvious it was a goodbye to you, but to him it had been a chance, he had let himself be blinded by hope.
He had so many questions about the pregnancy, about how you had been feeling and what you wanted to do that he couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. Still, he took a deep breath and just said:
“Have you been having lots of weird cravings?” He asked, staring at you, still munching on the cherry-tomatoes.
“I’ve been craving fruits a lot this past week, the other day I wanted green mango with salt, but it’s so hard to find tropical fruits around here!”
Lewis grabbed his phone and texted Kevin, one of his assistants, telling him to find fresh mangoes anywhere as fast as possible.
“How are you? How are you feeling?” He put the phone away, eyes focused on yours.
“In regards to health, me and Peanut are completely fine. I’ve been really sleepy, taking naps all the time…”
“Peanut?” He smiled, eyes shining to the little nickname.
“So, the first craving I had was so bad I spent three days eating anything with peanuts. People have some really creative recipes on the internet.” Your words made Lewis laugh out loud, that one giggle that you had not heard in months. One laugh that used to make you so happy, “but really, we're fine. I’ve had some doctor visits now.”
“That’s good. I told my family about our divorce. Mum tore me a new one.” He gave an awkward smile.
“I know, she called me to apologize.” You let him know. You were still in touch with his mom, not having the heart to cut her off.
“Hey,” Lewis leaned in, his expression serious again, “I know I failed you in our marriage. But I won’t fail you in this pregnancy, ok? I want to be there every step of the way, if you allow me to.”
“I know, Lewis. I never doubted you would,” you sighed, pushing the plate away. You always knew Lewis would want to be there for you and his kid, “I just- I’m sorry it took me a while to reach you. I was confused and overwhelmed, heartbroken, everything at once, and I had to comprehend what I wanted to do. In the end, I couldn’t allow my baby to grow up without a father, and I know you will be a loving one.”
“Thank you, I hurt you so deeply, just- Thank you for letting me know about Peanut.”
“I know it will be difficult to get over our problems and the divorce, but I was hoping we could co-parent, as friends,” you told him.
“Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I’m aware that's not how we planned things to go…” your eyes were wet with unshed tears, sometimes you still mourned the future you had with Lewis before, “... But we can do it, right?”
“We can do it. Peanut will be so happy.”
He was so sure, so confident, that it gave you a weird sense of security, knowing he will be there no matter what, knowing Peanut would have a loving father. It was a huge weight lifted from your shoulders, and now you could just focus on trying to go through a safe pregnancy.
“Tell me about your routine, how are you adapting here?” Lewis stood up, looking around.
You told him how you had reduced your work hours, to only work during the mornings, usually finishing up around noon, then you had lunch, then if you had any errands to run, you’d go to the city, then prenatal yoga class, and doing your hobbies the rest of the day.
While you were explaining your routine, you went to the pantry and got cat food out, your new companion showing up, meowing.
“You got a kitten.” Lewis pointed out.
“That’s Olive. I’ve always wanted one,” you said as if he didn’t know it, your fingers scratching behind her ears. Your voice didn’t have any malice, but Lewis’ own blame made your words feel like a jab.
“I know.”
Lewis stared at the fluffy gray cat. You had always talked about how growing up you had a cat that passed away when you were around fifteen. You had mentioned adopting a new one a lot after you got married, and still, Lewis never felt inclined to support the idea, he thought you two already had Roscoe, who you had to leave with a caretaker most of the time. He just thought you two wouldn’t have the time for another pet. It made something inside him burn with shame seeing that now that you were divorced, you finally got the little pet you always wanted.
You kept talking, telling Lewis how your parents are constantly traveling here to keep you company on weekends, and how you had been changing a few furniture, because you bought the house already furnished, but you wanted it to feel more like you, including a flowerbed by your porch. How you met a couple of neighbors, and how you had been exploring Edinburgh’s museums and galleries at least once a week.
It hurt him hearing about how you were moving on, meeting people and places, buying things and making plans when he was still stuck in the past. He was still wishing every morning he would wake up in your arms again, how he would share one big cup of coffee with you in the mornings, how he used to hold you in silence for a good 20 minutes after you woke up because you don’t like talking as soon as you wake up. How you would peck his lips every time he had to pack a bag to leave. How he would kiss your ring finger every time before he hopped in the car for a race.
Now he would walk past your office, and your work supplies weren’t there anymore, and the furniture didn’t have charcoal stains anymore, and the house didn’t smell like your tea and the bedsheets didn’t smell like your strawberry body scrub and shower gel thing.
Lewis spent the day with you, chatting like you were just two friends catching up. There was still a lot of baggage none of you wanted to touch just yet, so you just brushed past any awkward silence, and distant, cold chatter. It took a couple of hours to feel fully comfortable with each other. You had seen Lewis as the love of your life for so long it was mind boggling now having to put him in a “friend” category.
He left by the end of the afternoon, after leaving dinner ready for you.
“Will you unblock me?” He asked, getting ready to leave. You laughed but nodded, “You can text me anything. If you need something, anything really, call me or text me, yes?”
“Will do, Lewis. I’ll text any pregnancy updates too,” you walked him to the door, “Oh, wait! I forgot something.”
You went back inside scrambling into your purse for the sonogram image you had gotten the last doctor visit. You went back and handed it to Lewis. His eyes shone with tears as he understood what it was. He ran his thumb through the picture, tears falling down his cheeks.
“Oh, wow. That’s my baby.”
You noticed how Lewis was still wearing his wedding band, and your chest constricted a bit. You knew more than anyone that it would take some getting used to remove the ring as you were still getting used to not wearing yours, but you had forced yourself to leave it behind. You wondered if Lewis had gotten rid of it after the divorce was finalized.
“Can I- Can I tell my family about the baby?” He asked you, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.
“Yes. Tell Carmen to call me after you tell her.” You smiled softly at him.
He stared from the picture to your belly, your small bump.
“Wanna touch?” You offered, and he smiled.
“Only if you’re ok with it,” he muttered. You nodded, raising your shirt up.
You pulled his wrist, placing his palm against your stomach. His hand was warm, calloused as you were used to feeling them on your body. His thumb moved up and down, caressing your bump and raising goosebumps in your skin. It took him a full minute to let go, like it was physically painful to leave.
“Take care, yeah?” He told you, walking away.
“You too.”
You went back inside after locking the house, the sun was already setting as you sat down to eat the dinner Lewis prepared. He had promised you to come back in a couple of days after his work commitments.
The next morning, you were working when the doorbell rang, and it was a delivery guy. He handed you a box and left. You opened it on the kitchen counter, and it was full of fresh mangoes and a small note.
“Anything you need. -L”
Lewis came back three days later, letting you know when he was at the airport. You knew he had told his family, since Carmen had called you and you spent a good hour talking to her on the phone the night before. You heard a noise outside and you went to your porch to see Lewis arriving in a pick-up truck.
You walked up to Lewis with a small smile. He closed his fists, physically restraining himself as to not hold your pretty face and kiss you silly.
“Hi,” you said and your voice was sweet.
“Hi, beautiful mama,” he whispered, which made you blush. You eye the back of the truck.
“What is that?”
“I bought some stuff,” he patted one of the boxes, “this is an ergonomic chair, appropriate for pregnant women, I thought it would be useful since you’ll still be working for a while. And they had it in your favorite color too!”
“Lewis.”
“I also bought a few books on pregnancy, maternity and paternity. Already sent a few copies to my place too. There’s a bunch of baby clothes over there, a few are gifts from my family but most of them I just bought because I thought they were pretty cute.” He pointed to the other boxes.
“Lewis, it’s too much!” You wanted to reprimand him, but it was also sweet how dedicated he was being.
“Nothing is too much for Peanut and Mama,” he dismissed you, “and I didn’t even buy a lot of stuff because I thought we should do it together.”
He carried the boxes inside, while you got started on the meal for lunch.
“Why is this ladder here?” Lewis pointed to the folded ladder in the hallway.
“Oh, I was going to change the light!” You told him.
“Are you crazy, woman?! You can be doing all that while pregnant!” His voice echoed from the hallway.
“I’m pregnant, not ill!” You screamed back, and he laughed out loud.
There was only silence for a few minutes, so you checked the hallway to see Lewis changing the lights. As he came down the ladder, he put both hands on his waist.
“Anything else needs fixing?”
“You wouldn’t happen to know how to fix the door handle, would you?”
“Please, how would you doubt me?”
After Lewis fixed the bathroom door handle, he came back out and started helping you with the food. You ate while Lewis told you about his family’s reaction to the news. He guaranteed everyone was happy, but they were refraining to call and text you so as to not overwhelm you.
While you were on the phone with your mom, Lewis decided to unbox the new chair and take it to your new office. He looked around, seeing how this office was smaller than the one at home, but cozier. You had a big window with lots of natural light bathing the room. Whenever you were working on your projects on paper and charcoal, you liked using natural light to draw. There were a couple of scented candles around too.
He took a little while to fully assemble the new chair, but as he came back down, you were taking a nap on the couch. He grabbed the blanket and covered you, and went back to put the dishes away. It was different, he hadn’t been so domestic in so long, and certainly not when you were married. Now he was just happy to be of service, to help you around just like things had never changed. He noticed you had put a panel on the kitchen, just like in the project for your family home, and your planner was there. It showed you had a doctor visit by the end of the week and pregnancy yoga twice a week in the afternoons, it also had your next museum visit marked for after the doctor. He took a picture of your planner, to align his to yours.
“Y/N, hey,” he woke you up softly, confused, you stared at him, “you have yoga class in like an hour, will you go today? I can drive you to the city.”
“Yes, sure.” You got ready and Lewis drove you there right on time.
“I’ll just drive around for a bit, text me when the class is over,” he said as he dropped you by the gym’s door. He ended up going shopping for baby stuff, and had at least seven shopping bags by the time he went back to pick you up. He stopped the car by the entryway of the gym, where a man had been excitedly talking to you. Lewis made a face, it seemed like everywhere he went, there was someone into you. Of course, you were radiating this glow and charm of a pregnant woman, seducing everyone around.
Impatient, Lewis honked softly to catch your attention. He bit his tongue as you said goodbye to the man, who hugged you way too tight for Lewis’ taste. You were happy and Lewis hated that you were giving that rando your sweet smile and attention. He didn’t say anything as you got closer and he left the car to open the door for you, instead, he showed you all the stuff he had bought you and the baby.
When the end of the week came, Lewis also came back as you were leaving for your doctor’s appointment. You had invited him but he also had taken a picture of your schedule.
At the doctor’s you laid on the bed and the doctor started the ultrasound, Lewis gripped your hand firmly, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“See, here, this is your baby,” she pointed at the little gray mass on the screen, she gestured to the nurse, “and this is their heartbeat.”
The sound filled the room, and Lewis felt like his world stopped and reset, a warm sensation in his chest, finding what felt like something to live and something to die for. He listened while you asked the doctor for updates, but his eyes never left the screen, where he could see Peanut.
As you left the room, with your next appointment scheduled, Lewis stopped you in the parking lot, pulled you to his chest, holding you firmly and breathing into you. He was crying, you held him and that moment, something started to heal inside you. Maybe you’d never get your husband back, but you could count on him as a friend, as the father of your kid.
“Everything’s gonna be alright, Lewis. We’re gonna do great for Peanut.” You whispered into his shoulder.
-
You and Lewis managed to get a routine, he was coming back frequently, he claimed your guest room and was staying for two or three days at a time, only leaving for his commitments. Both of you already did therapy separately but you also decided to go a few sessions with a family therapist to try and navigate the new family dynamics as divorced parents to an unborn baby. You talked about the cheating a lot, which brought big emotions during most of the sessions, with the therapist mediating until you could talk again. Lewis for the most part accepted taking you anger and sadness and hurt, apologizing profusely over and over again, reassuring you that he made a mistake he regretted every breathing moment. It took a while to make peace with the fact that his mistake shouldn’t define him forever, to accept and give him the opportunity to grow and learn for the sake of your baby.
“The season will start soon,” he told you one day, late at night as you ate quietly. You only hummed a response, unsure of what he wanted you to say or what point he was trying to make.
“Ok, understood,” you muttered, knowing he probably was letting you know he wasn’t going to come visit you as much, which honestly made you a bit sad, kinda used to his company by now.
“What I mean to ask is, can I move here? I know I won’t have much free time, so instead of going back to Monaco, I was wondering if I could come straight here. Of course, I would need to bring a few things, training gear, stuff from my office,” When you didn’t answer him, jaw slacked, he thought you might not like the idea, “But it’s ok if you rather not, too. I mean, if you prefer your privacy and all- I totally respect-”
“It’s ok, Lewis, you can move here for the remainder of the pregnancy,” you calmed his rambling, and he smiled seemingly relieved.
“Thank you, I don’t want to miss anything,” He whispered, crouching down by your side, putting his hand on your belly, “right, Peanut? Daddy’s gonna be right here.”
The next morning, you woke up, the breakfast was ready, and you looked around for Lewis, until you found him outside. He was wearing gardening gloves, making a hole on the ground with a trowel, and behind him a wheelbarrow loaded with flower pots. He was also shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin and above his tattoos, back muscles prominent with every move, which had your pregnancy hormones feeling some kind of way.
“Morning, what is going on?” You asked, hugging yourself as you approached him.
“Well, you said you wanted a flower bed on the entryway. So I had the time and thought I would do it for you.” He shrugged, removing the gloves.
“You didn’t have to, but thank you.”
As he stood up and when he turned to you, your eyes fell on his necklace, and more specifically, your wedding band hanging from the necklace like a pendant. You had wondered if he had gotten rid of your wedding ring, but now you knew where it was. Lewis swallowed like he was self conscious, putting his hand over the ring. It was so different whenever you thought about the cheating and the divorce, about the new normal you had to get used to. You weren’t angry at him anymore, but it would require a lot to rebuild the trust you once had in him. You decided to not address the elephant in the room, so you just looked away.
“I’m going to eat, thank you for breakfast, also.”
He only nodded as you got inside, swallowing the lump in your throat with a glass of juice and slices of bread. You didn’t mention the ring, but you could notice he kept wearing the ring under his shirts.
You went back to watch his races, commenting about it with Olive and Peanut, cheering when he was going well and complaining when he wasn’t. You’d hug him whenever he came back, for emotional support, you’d tell yourself.
You two decided you wouldn’t find out if Peanut was a boy or a girl, leaving the mystery to whenever they were born. And as the pregnancy progressed, it was inevitable that you and Lewis got closer, almost like best friends as he had seen your many lows of the pregnancy. That one time you craved cauliflower with barbecue sauce, or when you ate corn with sprinkled smashed cheetos on top, or when you farted loudly. He also had seen you cry because the delivery guy didn’t wave back to you as he was leaving, or when Olive hunted a small gecko and gave you as a present and you started just bawling. Or when Lewis hummed a song by a rapper you disliked and you started going off, snappy.
Honestly, Lewis took your mood swings and weird cravings like a champ with the patience of a saint. He had read about how pregnancy could cause your emotions to be all over the place, with outbursts of sadness or anger, and according to what he read, he just needed to help you let it all out. He had studied hard about pregnancy and was always willing to help. Funnily enough, you saw him more that season than all the five seasons you witnessed when you dated and was married to him.
One night you went to bed early, and when he went to your bedroom to check on you, you were moving a little, grunting in your sleep. Lewis immediately went closer, shaking your shoulders to wake you up from your nightmare.
“Hey, hey,” he called and you opened your eyes wide and you looked a little winded, “had a bad dream?”
Your eyes started tearing up, and he sat by your side, putting an arm over your shoulder for comfort. He ran a hand up and down your back as you wiped your tears.
“Are you ok?”
“It wasn’t a bad dream!” You whined like a little kid about to throw a tantrum.
“Ok, you want to talk about it? Maybe I can run you a bath?” He offered.
“It was a sex dream!”
Your words caught him a little off guard.
“I’m sorry?” He tried to understand what he should do or say.
“Goddamn pregnancy! I’m horny all the time now, but I can’t cum with my fingers! And I bought a bunch of toys but the delivery had messed it up and it never arrived!” You cried even louder now, and Lewis had to bite his tongue so as to not laugh and cause more anger.
“I could help you with that,” he offered, softly. He was actually scared you’d punch him in the nose for offering.
Instead you just stood up huffing and puffing, and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.
“Sorry!” He shouted, standing by the door. Then a minute later you opened the door again, poking your head out.
“Will you help me?” You pouted.
“Of course, baby,” he walked inside, and you stood there wearing only a t-shirt and panties, “do you have something in mind or do you want me to freestyle?”
“Freestyle. Fuck, I just need to cum.”
Lewis sat by the closed toilet and patted his lap. You walked over to him, letting him position you sideways on his lap. God, you were so frustrated, and so horny your panties were shamelessly wet from the dream. He cupped you, running his middle finger up and down between your legs.
“Lewis, fuck,” you moaned, hyper sensitive, but still not enough, “if you’re going to tease me, I better finish the job myself.”
“Calm down, woman! I was just creating the buildup!”
“I’ve been building up for the past three weeks, Lewis. I need the finishing!” You whined and Lewis chuckled, pushing your panties down until they hung from your foot.
A loud moan escaped your lips as he ran his finger over your cunt, spreading out your wetness and when the pad of his finger found your clit, your hips jerked. You nuzzled into his neck inhaling his perfume and laying your weight on him, letting him do his thing. You had been feeling so sensitive because of the pregnancy, every single touch made your body jolt, curling your stomach already so close.
“More, Lewis, please,” you moaned into his skin, and he only hummed, pressing a finger inside you. His other arm was around you, holding you firmly against his chest.
“Like that, baby? That’s how you want it?” He asked, egging you on, going harder.
You could only moan as he took his time pressing into you, curling his finger and finding your most pleasurable spot.
“Oh, Lewis, fuck-” you moaned all the way up to your orgasm that had your toes curling and eyes rolling back. It took all his restraint to not eat your moans with a sloppy kiss.
Lewis slowed down, but he didn’t stop fingering you, and when you almost felt like it was too much, he kept going, cooing you.
“That’s ok, baby. Give me one more, yeah?” As you whined, pushing his hand away, he gave you a couple of seconds and went back, “you can take it, love. Gonna sleep so well after. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
He practically pushed you into the second orgasm, shaking, hand pressing your nails into his skin and you bit into his neck to muffle your moans.
Breathless, you just melted into him, sleepy again after cumming so good. Lewis cleaned you and carried you back to bed, letting you fall into slumber.
Raging hard, he ended up in the bathroom of the guest room, fisting his own length thinking of your moans and your teeth on his neck, that’s how he finished under the running shower.
The next morning, he smirked as you walked inside the kitchen, his winning smile hidden behind a mug.
“Shut up, Lewis, or I swear I’m gonna cut your dick off!” You warned. He held back a laugh.
“I didn’t say anything!” He raised both hands in surrender.
“Yeah, but you thought.”
“Look, whenever you need release, I’m right here for you to use me any way you want.” He smiled slyly.
“SHUT UP!” You threw a grape at him, which he caught in the air and ate. “I won’t be needing your services anymore, but thank you.” You whispered begrudgingly.
“If you say so…” He shrugged.
But that same night you ended up laid on the table, your dress hunched around your waist as Lewis ate you out like a man starved for the better part of an hour. You came loudly, grinding your hips to his face, pulling on his braids as he pulled orgasm after orgasm. Until you were limp and sleepy, and he cleaned you up and took you to bed.
It kept happening, but you never kissed or fucked, he would just relieve your tension with hand and mouth, and the few times you tried to reciprocate, he denied and said you were pregnant and needed the stress relief. You’d usually go to sleep right after he pleasured you.
After he left for a race week, you received a medium box full of sex toys, ranging from vibrators to suckers and dildos. He left a note saying it was for whenever he wasn’t there to fulfill your needs.
One morning, you were working, finishing up the last of your projects before going on maternity leave, when you felt a little poke on your belly, from inside. You squealed, and in mere seconds, Lewis was speeding up the stairs and barging into your office.
“What happened? Are you ok? Do we need to go to the hospital?” He panted, getting close to you. You just held his wrist and pressed his palm against your bump, where you had felt the thing.
“I think Peanut just kicked!”
You two stayed silent as you waited, and then you felt it just as Lewis felt on his hand. You cried, Lewis cried, and then he crouched, pressing his face to your belly, feeling a little kick on the side of his face. He laughed between tears.
“Peanut, daddy’s right here! You’re going to be so strong, baby!”
As your bump got bigger, and the pains got a little bit worse, you tried new sleep positions because of the back pains. Your feet swelled and your boobs and nipples got a bit more sensitive, so you had to change bras. Lewis was such a great help throughout the gestation, that you’d always remember him as a great source of strength. Sometime after you were seven months along during Summer Break, Lewis ended up taking you to a spa resort one week, somewhere in Greece, where you had one of the best times ever. You got massages, went into the hot tub, swam in the pools and went to the beach.
One random day back home, you were feeling particularly bothered by the backache, laying down in different positions and walking around with a muscle pain tape glued to your spine. Whenever you felt like that, your mood got irritable due to the pain.
“I saw something on the internet, I think we could try,” Lewis suggested.
“What?”
“Just trust me, yeah?” He asked and you nodded.
He stood right behind you, his chest pressed to your back, and his arms circled your waist, both hands settling under the bump. Then he just pushed up softly, taking the weight of the baby. You moaned feeling instant relief on your back, your head falling down on Lewis’ shoulder as you breathed deep.
“It’s ok, take your time,” he murmured close to your ear, “we should do this a few times a day to ease the pain.”
Eventually you two sat down to discuss baby names, and decided on each making a list and then comparing if you had put the same names. The boy names list ended up with three names matching and the girls’ list had only one match. You came around with choices for both, but ultimately decided to leave the decision for after Peanut was born.
When your birthday came in late July, Lewis took you to another trip, for a surprise.
“Where are we?” You asked as he blindfolded you on your way out of the private jet.
“We’re in London.”
“Oh, I love London!” You whispered excitedly, getting inside a car.
“I know you do.”
It took a few minutes, but eventually, he took you out of the car and walked you a few steps. Then, he removed your blindfold, and you stared at a big house. Not any house, but the home you had designed, your family home. The one you would give him on his birthday, but he saw when you were at the low ending of your marriage.
And it was just like the project, the same materials, the same colors, the same height and size. With all the little details you had poured your heart into.
“Happy birthday, this is yours.” Lewis whispered, handing you a key set.
“Lewis? What?” You turned to him, feeling your eyes watering.
“I know that we divorced, and things are different now… But I think it’s only fair that you get to raise Peanut in the home we dreamed of,” he said and you just nodded, the tears falling down, “and I hope you save me a guest room, for when I want to spend time with Peanut and Mama, if you allow.”
It was time you admitted that you and Lewis had grown so much closer than you ever did while married. It was good and most of the time you’d say it was everything for the sake of Peanut, but you knew better. You could silently admit to yourself that Lewis was an indispensable presence in your life. You needed his steadfast support that you been getting throughout the pregnancy, you needed his company in the mornings and his laughter in the evenings, you needed the feel of his hands on you be it for comfort or for intimacy.
And you fucking loved him.
It was like you’ve never stopped, even through the pain and the divorce, like your heart had always been in the palm of his hands.
But the pregnancy was like falling in love all over again.
You turned around and pulled Lewis by the coat, pressing your lips into his. It felt so right, like you should’ve never stopped. Lewis held your neck, pressing you into him.
“Lewis…”
“We can talk about it, yeah? Take as slow or as fast as you want. I just-” he paused, pecking your lips twice like he couldn’t get enough, “-I love you, my baby. And we can do whatever you want.”
“Let’s just, let’s take it slow first, yeah? See what- see what happens.”
He nodded, kissing you once again before taking you for a tour of the house. It was just as beautiful as you had imagined. The house was already baby proofed, and it had electricity and water already running.
“You can move here whenever you feel like it.”
“Yeah, I think I will soon rather than later. But I’ll keep my place in Edinburgh too.”
When the due date came, you had already moved to the new home, and it was so much closer to your parents and Lewis’ parents to visit, so Carmen was coming to see you a couple of times a week. She usually cooked for you, leaving meal preps for the days she couldn’t come.
To keep everything on the low with the media, you and Lewis decided against a baby shower. No one knew about the divorce, nor the baby.
“Lewis, it’s time to pack your bags,” you said walking into the room.
You were honestly so fed up with being pregnant that you just wanted to give birth. Your body was uncomfortable, you couldn’t sleep right in any position, your breasts were so full that it was leaking all the time and the bump got in the way of pretty much anything.
“I don’t need to,” he said, sleepily turning off the alarm.
“Lewis, you’re going to miss the flight!”
It was race week, which meant he would leave and only come back Monday. Hopefully, Peanut will be born next week. You were already a little over 39 weeks so you’d give birth pretty much any minute now.
“I’m not racing this week,” he said simply.
“You what?! You can’t do that! You need the points!” You exclaimed, pacing around.
“Love, Peanut will come any moment now, I won’t be away and risk missing this.” Lewis stood up, holding your shoulders and standing behind you. He held your bump and lifted it just like he had been doing, which helped you feel immense relief.
“Lewis, I can’t believe this! You’re literally competing for the championship! You can’t afford to lose any points.”
“I won’t be able to get in the car and drive knowing you’re here mostly alone or maybe that you’re going through labor alone. This is not up for discussion, I have spoken to Toto and everything is already set.”
You wanted to cry. You had not told him about how you were worried he might miss the birth, but he must’ve picked up somehow. You two had been in an entirely new level of connection, Lewis attuned to your wants and needs without you needing to express.
You turned around, kissing him. He held you close, reciprocating as his hands explored your body. And with just a little make out you were lit up and horny again.
“Can we make love?” You asked him, between kisses.
“Are you sure?” He mumbled, nipping at your bottom lip.
“Please, I miss your cock,” you whined, pulling his shirt.
That did it for him. He undressed, and you eyed your wedding band on his necklace. You pulled your dress up and Lewis groaned as he saw you were wearing only a support bra underneath, no panties.
“We need to see what positions is more comfortable though, I-”
“Spooning, missionary or cowgirl” he kissed you again, taking your hand and leading you to the bed.
“How do you know?”
“I read a book.”
“A book about sex?” You giggled.
“A book about pregnancy sex.” He corrected which made you laugh even harder.
“Ok then, get in the bed. On your back,” you bossed him and he obeyed.
You didn’t take too much time to straddle him, his cock between your pussy lips as you ground up and down on him, leaning down to kiss him. You were dripping wet, finding comfort on the way his abdomen held most of the weight of the bump. You looked down to him, his lips were open and he helped you up until you had him lined up and into your cunt. Both of you moaned out loud. The first time for both since your goodbye before the divorce.
Lewis sat up and pawed at your boobs and you moaned with sensitivity. He tried to remove your bra, but you stopped him.
“It’s going to leak everywhere, Lewis.” You shook your head.
“What kind of husband do you take me for?” He asked as if you were being silly. He unclasped your bra and as soon as you were free, ready to complain, he mouthed your nipple, sucking hard. The relief of the milk coming out was so great it had you groaning.
“Oh, Jesus! Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you moaned out loud with the relief his sucking caused, so much that your cunt clenched with the pleasure, “that’s so good baby, fuck- you’re so good!”
You started moving your hips, the experience so otherworldly that you could only ride him, letting him suck at your tits as your mind exploded with mind blowing sex. You shook so hard through the orgasm that Lewis had to stop and hold you firmly, only moving his hips under you to cum hard to the feel of your cunt milking him.
He stared at you like you were the most beautiful woman on earth, with so much love and devotion that you couldn’t help but bash in it.
You fucked any given chance for the next few days, making up for lost time. Lewis’ favorite position was spooning while he fucked you from behind, holding your body flush against him, kissing your neck and shoulder.
Saturday evening, you started feeling pain, sometimes every few hours. Lewis wanted to go to the hospital immediately but you, having talked with your doctor, knew it was too soon, and you’d only wait for hours in a hospital room.
You slept on and off the entire night, the jolts of pain waking you up every couple of hours. In the morning, you and Lewis had breakfast and decided to watch the race to see how Mick was going to do. You didn’t make it past ten laps, when the water broke when you got up for snacks.
“Oh my god! Ok, now we’re going to the hospital, yeah?” He asked and you nodded, taking your phone to let your doctor know you were going to the hospital.
Lewis was a mess, running up and down the stairs to grab your hospital bag, then he forgot the car keys and went back up again.
“Ok, stay calm, we’re fine,” he said, helping you up.
“I’m calm, Lewis.”
“Yeah, I’m talking to myself.”
You laughed as you two got in the car and to the hospital. You still felt these jolts of pain, each contraction getting closer and closer from the one before. You were put in a bed to wait for the right moment for the baby to crown. Lewis never left your side, even to call his family and your parents to let them know, he stood by you.
When it was a little while before the time to labor, you couldn’t handle the pain anymore, opting for an epidural on the spot which made the pain bearable. Then finally came the time to push, and Lewis stayed there, holding your hand and whispering words of comfort when necessary, and words of strength when needed.
“You are doing great, love. Come on, on three you push with all you can yeah? Promise I’ll stay right here! Come on, no- no-” he held your face softly, “I know you’re tired but you can’t rest yet! Stay here, and we’re going to see Peanut soon! Come on, when the doctor calls three, you push!”
Your memory would be hazy but you’d never forget Lewis’ patience and strength dealing with you. His voice guiding you through every single hour, his eyes that were so kind and his hands on you.
“I can’t Lewis!” You cried, but he held your face, looking deep into your eyes.
“You can! You can because you’re the strongest person here! I love you so much. You can, I’m right here with you. One more push, Peanut is almost out.”
Then, there was the loud cry of the baby in the doctor's hands. Gasping, Lewis stared at the baby while the doctor cut the umbilical cord. You looked at Lewis, who was bawling, face sweaty but the complete adoration in his eyes said more than any words could ever.
“This is your baby girl, Mom and Dad!” The doctor handed you the baby curled on a blanket.
“Oh my god. Love, this is Luna, right?” Lewis leaned down, whispering and watching his baby’s face.
“Luna…” You whispered, looking at her perfect little face.
“Our Luna…” Lewis whispered.
-
You were making tea in the kitchen when you heard Luna starting to cry, progressively louder. You could hear Lewis trying to calm her down, and when you came back to the living room, he was softly nursing Luna, and she was still whining.
“Everything ok, Dada?” You asked him, saving him a mug with tea.
Chuckling, he held Luna against his naked chest, and she was getting calmer and calmer. You sat on the couch, watching them. But then Lewis started mumbling a song, softly like a lullaby, and after a few seconds he sang a bit louder so you could make up the lyrics.
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life, I love you more
Funnily enough, Luna started to drift to sleep again, curled on her Dad’s chest. He put her on the little carrier, covering with the blanket then sat beside you, pulling you into his chest.
“Can you believe that? We made the most amazing bundle of love!” He said, kissing the top of your head, “Thank you so much for taking a chance on me, for letting me be part of this. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, honey.”
“I told you we were gonna make it.”
You felt like your heart was going to burst with so much love, for Lewis, for Luna and grateful for the second chance you took on this life and these dreams. You knew there was still a lot of work to put in, not only in raising your daughter but also in rebuilding your life with Lewis, but you were sure you'd have the rest of your lives to work on it.
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1#formula 1#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton +18#f1 smut#smut#Spotify
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