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coolemmasulivan2 · 3 days

Text

It's Always You

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: You and Lando share a mutual attraction, but you've kept things professional due to career implications. However, after his first win race, things may change, blurring the lines between friendship and something more.

Word count: 6013

Author's note: First time writing about Lando. I started writing this on the day of the Miami Sprint and then when he won the next day I told myself I would publish it. Tell me what you think.

It's you, it's always you Met a lot of people, but nobody feels like you So please don't break my heart, don't tear me apart

Miami heat wrapped around you like a steamy August day and even if American tracks weren't your thing, the paddock was definitely one of your favourites.

Working with McLaren since 2019 felt like winning the lottery. Travel, new faces, and a taste of different cultures – it was everything you dreamed of. Hospitality put you in the middle of it all – the team, the fans, even the families. Being young, you clicked quickly with the drivers: Carlos and Lando from the start, and Oscar when he joined.

Carlos was your rock, a protective older brother even after his move to Ferrari. Daniel was a blast, always making you laugh with his great sense of humor, and Oscar's calm personality mirrored yours. He became your trackside best friend, sharing everything over coffee and off-track adventures with his girlfriend, Lily.

Then there was Lando. Your relationship with Lando was different. Unlike Carlos, you saw him not as a brother, but as a friend... friends that had feelings for each other.

He was shy at first, stealing glances when you weren't looking. But time made his shyness disappear. Flirting became his game, playful touches here and there and unexpected hugs wherever he felt like it. You ignored the signs until his confession left you speechless in the middle of the night in Monaco.

"I have something I need to tell you." He said.

It was 2020. Monaco was hot that night. Everyone at the team dinner was buzzing about the upcoming classic Monaco Grand Prix. Like always, after the dinner, Lando offered to walk you back to the hotel where the team was staying – nothing new. You even joked about Carlos doing the same thing.

Like all the other times, you didn't think much about the gesture. It was something he used to do, and in your head, it was just a friend helping the other. After all, Carlos did it from time to time. Why should it be any different with Lando?

"What's up?" You asked, the streetlights shining on his face. "Getting nervous about the race? The car feels amazing, right?"

Lando messed with his hair. Your voice, normally like music to him, made him forget what to say. "Uh, no, not the race."

"Then what is it? Now I'm the one freaking out." You tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. "Did you lose your house key again? You're not staying with me."

He wished you'd just be quiet. "Fuck, Y/N!" He blurted out. "I like you." The words came out fast, just like his orange F1 car. Did you hear him right? When he saw the surprise on your face, he knew you had. "I, uh, I mean more than a friend." He stammered. "Like, a lot. You're always in my head, even in my dreams. All the fucking time. I can't even look at other girls because you're all I see. I just had to tell you. I couldn't keep it in any longer."

You suddenly froze, your heart pounding like a drum solo. Time seemed to slow down, with only the two of you and the warm glow of the streetlights as the real things around. You wanted to speak, but the words simply wouldn't come out.

"Please say something!" Lando begged, his voice shaky. "Anything! Even if you don't like me back, just tell me. But don't let this mess up our friendship!"

It didn't destroy your friendship, but it sent your world spinning. You realized your little crush on the driver was a full-blown fire, and with each passing year, the flames only licked higher. But every time Lando flirted, the same words you had said to him tumbled out: "It's inappropriate."

He hated those words. He'd always argue with you about it. "Come on, I like you and I know you like me too. I know it! Who cares about work? We can keep it quiet. It can be our secret." He always had a solution for every worry, but you remained strong.

You wanted to believe that you could remain strong.

The problem was, your feelings were turning into a rebellion. Keeping them bottled up was a losing battle, and you weren't sure how much longer you could resist the pressure from the driver.

Lando strutted into the paddock beside you, his black clothes and crisp white shirt doing nothing to hide his cocky grin. "Finally figured out why I haven't won a race yet." He announced, his cologne a heady wave in your direction.

You peeked over your sunglasses. "Oh yeah, Sherlock? What's the conclusion?"

He leaned close, his voice a low rumble. "No good luck kiss from you, that's what! Maybe we should fix that? Make it a tradition if it works."

A laugh escaped you. "So it's my fault, huh?"

"Exactly!" He grinned. "And if I lose again without a kiss, everyone's gonna hear about it."

"That's your best shot at flirting?" You teased. "Seriously, Lando, you're terrible."

A playful smirk tugged at his lips. He draped his arm around your shoulder, leading you towards the McLaren hospitality area. "The only girl I flirt with is you, love. Guess you'll have to show me how to improve."

Heat flooded your cheeks, betraying your fake indifference. Lando wasn't an idiot. He knew you felt the same way, a truth as clear as the Miami sunshine.

A booming voice shattered the playful tension. "Whoa there, puppet, keep your hands off of her!"

Carlos emerged behind you, clad in his new Ferrari blues. You turned to see him glaring at Lando, who simply scoffed and moved away, the arm around your shoulder replaced by Carlos's protective arm.

He leaned down, a quick peck on your head followed by a wink aimed at Lando, who rolled his eyes with a playful huff.

"Or what?" Lando challenged.

Carlos pretended to consider, then grinned. "Or I'll run you off the track at the race. And don't even think about getting jealous. It's a bad look on you."

Agree to disagree, you thought. Jealousy did look good on him. The way he tapped his foot impatiently, the way he chewed his lip with a focused intensity – those were the subtle giveaways that made your heart skip a beat.

"Leave him alone, Sainz!" You swatted playfully at Carlos' chest, the contact sending a blush blooming across your cheeks.

"Oh, look who's defending the love bird." He teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You blushed once again. "Shut up." You whispered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lando fighting a smile as you continued towards McLaren hospitality. A quick goodbye to Carlos later, you disappeared inside, ready for your daily tasks. Lando watched you go, his gaze lingering long after you were out of sight.

When he finally turned back to his friend, Carlos was waiting, arms crossed, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "What?"

"Ugh, the both of you." Carlos rolled his eyes. "All this mooning and staring, it's getting pathetic. Just take her out, will you?"

Lando sighed. "I've been trying for years. It's always 'inappropriate.'"

"Well, try harder!" Carlos pressed. "Last thing you need is someone else catching her eye."

Lando's playful demeanor vanished. "What do you mean?" He pressed, a sudden seriousness tightening his features. Carlos simply offered him a pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Lando with a gnawing sense of unease. "Hey, what do you mean?"

The sprint had been a disaster. It all ended so quickly that it didn't give him enough time to think, no chance to catch Max and the others at the front. To make matters worse, the Stewards imposed a heavy fine of €50,000 for crossing the track while the rave was still ongoing.

Later, back at the hotel, he was torn between feeling exhausted and frustrated. A cold shower did little to wash away the bitter taste of defeat. He pulled on fresh clothes and collapsed onto the bed. Closing his eyes, he focused on the tension leaving his body, hoping for a moment of peace.

A loud ringing sound shattered the silence and startled him out of his daze. He groaned as he searched for his phone, buried somewhere in the crumpled sheets.

Y/n: Hey, Oscar and I are planning to watch a movie and grab some food. Wanna join us? We're in my bedroom.

Lando smile, looking at your text.

Lando: You know I like you. You shouldn't tell me when you have other guys in your bedroom. It breaks my heart.

Although he couldn't see you, he was certain you were rolling your eyes after reading his message.

Y/n: Shut up and get your ass here.

A laugh escaped Lando's lips as he pushed himself out of bed. He stalked over to the mirror, running a hand through his damp curls. With a flick of the switch, the room dropped into darkness, and Lando walked out of his room.

Your room was on a different floor, but soon a familiar knock came at your door. Your heart kicked into a familiar rapid-fire beat as you swung the door open.

"Hi!"

"Hey, beautiful." He cupped your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Osc!" He jumped in your bed and in one smooth motion, he snagged a chip from the bowl you'd set on the nightstand.

"Hey. What do you feel like watching?" He quickly looked through your Netflix library, skipping over the typical romantic comedy options.

"Anything but that mushy stuff." Lando declared, earning a playful jab from you.

"Take your shoes off the bed, Lando!"

He chuckled, kicking off his sneakers. He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long. You were a black Simpsons shirt and matching sporty shorts, your bare feet resting comfortably on the cool sheets. A small anchor could be seen on your ankle, sparking his imagination about what other hidden treasures lay beneath your clothes.

The spell was broken by a knock on the door. With a quick smile, you ran toward the door, returning moments later with a stack of takeout boxes.

You settled next to Lando on the bed, while Oscar sprawled out at the foot like a contented cat. With the Avengers movie playing softly in the background, you devoured your food, a comfortable silence settling around the three of you.

Two hours passed by quickly as the credits rolled. Oscar groaned and got off the bed. You mimicked his stretch, feeling the pleasant ache of a relaxed evening.

"Looks like someone's having a sleepover!" Oscar teased, pointing a playful finger at Lando. The driver was sprawled across your pillow, a peaceful look on his face.

A soft gasp escaped your lips. "Oh, Lando!" you whispered, torn between amusement and a flicker of panic. He looked undeniably adorable, a mess of soft curls framing his face. You glanced at Oscar, who was already pulling on his sneakers. "We have to wake him up, right?"

Oscar chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "We? Seems pretty comfy to me, Y/N. Let the man enjoy his rest." He started towards the door, but you reached out.

"Wait, where are you going? He can't stay here." Panic bubbled in your chest. The thought of him sleeping in your bed sent shivers down your spine.

"So wake him up!"

Your cheeks flushed crimson. "I… I don't want to wake him." The words came out a soft mumble, barely audible.

Oscar leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Then don't. Trust me, asleep is the only state he'll stay put. Besides, wouldn't you rather wake up to a grateful cuddle buddy in the morning?"He winked, leaving you speechless, alone with the British driver.

Oh my god, you screamed to yourself.

You tiptoed around the room, unsure of your next move. Finally, drawn by a strange magnetism, you found yourself kneeling by the bed.

Lando's serene face was illuminated by the soft bedside lamp. His chest rose and fell gently in sleep, a single black curl escaping the gentle mess of his hair.

An irresistible urge to touch him washed over you. Without thinking about it, your fingers reached out, tentatively brushing against the perfect curl. As if sensing the intrusion, Lando stirred, and his brow furrowed slightly. You quickly retreated to the bathroom, heart pounding as you slammed the door carefully behind you.

Leaning against the door, you let out a shaky breath. You hurriedly changed into pyjamas, suddenly aware of how thin they felt compared to your day clothes. But it was hot, and you hadn't brought anything else.

Peeking through the crack in the door, you peeked out, praying for the best. Relief flooded you when you saw Lando, thankfully still asleep, but now facing the other side of the bed.

You were wondering if that little couch in the corner was worth sleeping on. It looked quite small and uninviting. Sleep on that uncomfortable excuse of furniture, or share the bed with Lando? The answer, realistically, was obvious.

You climbed in, scooting over as far as possible to create a respectable amount of distance from the body next to you. Sleep, thankfully, came quickly. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the day, or perhaps the unexpected warmth and sense of security that came with having Lando beside you, but you drifted off faster than usual.

Sunlight, snuck into the room, painting stripes across Lando's face. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. Hadn't he closed those curtains last night? He sat up, surprise jolting through him as he realized he wasn't in his own bed.

Even more shocking was the sight beside him. You, cuddle against him, your thin pyjamas offering little to make him look away. One of your legs peeked out from under the discarded sheet, and Lando felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the morning sun.

What in the world? How had he ended up, tangled in your sheets? A quick glance around revealed his phone abandoned on the nightstand. It was still early, but Jon would be expecting him in his room soon. He needed to get out, get cleaned up and get ready for the day. But leaving felt like ripping himself away from something precious.

He stole a glance at you. Your face, relaxed and peaceful, was turned towards him. A stray strand of hair tickled your cheek. Hesitantly, he reached out, tucking it behind your ear. The touch, light as a feather, was enough to stir you awake.

Lando didn't flinch and when you fluttered your eyes open, his face was inches away. A wave of yearning swept through you, a desire for more mornings waking up beside him.

"Did I die and go to heaven last night?" His voice, husky with sleep, sent shivers down your spine.

"You fell asleep." You admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "And I didn't have the heart to wake you up."

"Right." He breathed the word out, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that both surprised and delighted you. A blush crept up your neck as he murmured, "Lucky me." Then, a sigh escaped his lips. "I have to go. Jon will be at my room any minute."

You nodded and smiled, despite the disappointment tugging at your heart. You watched as he hesitately rose, groaning at leaving your bed. His hair was a mess of adorable curls, and his rumpled clothes added a touch of vulnerability that made him look even more adorable.

He grabbed his phone and sneakers and then paused, a playful smirk on his face. "So, about that lucky kiss for good luck?" He teased, a hint of hope lacing his voice. "We already slept together!"

"Go!" You muttered.

"Fine, fine." He chuckled. "See you later, love."

He turned towards the door, and an impulsive urge surged through you. Before you could overthink it, you were out of bed and racing towards him. He reached for the doorknob, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and spinning him around.

For a moment, confusion clouded his features, but it quickly melted into surprise as you planted a kiss on his cheek. It was a chaste kiss, lingering just a beat too long to be considered entirely platonic. When you pulled away, his eyes held a mixture of shock and something deeper.

"There's your lucky kiss." You whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "Now go."

Lando stood speechless for a moment, the kiss still tingling on his skin. Then, a slow smile spread across his face "Today is a day full of opportunities." He declared.

With one last lingering look, he opened the door and disappeared into the hallway. You leaned against the wall, your heart pounding against your ribs.

You had never felt more nervous before in a race. At the start, it seemed like Oscar could give Verstappen a run for his money, but then the safety car came out and it felt like you were barely moving until the end of the race, with Lando being P1. It wasn't until the checkered flag waved that you finally exhaled, a shaky breath that escaped with a nervous laugh.

The McLaren hospitality buzzed with excitement. Lando had finally done it. His first F1 victory, a triumph long overdue. You joined the celebrations, a wide smile plastered across your face, not just for the team, but for Lando himself. It was a moment he deserved.

"Great race, Oscar!" You exclaimed as the Australian driver entered the hospitality area and hug you. "You had Red Bull sweating for a while there!"

He chuckled, pulling you into a brief hug. "Thanks, Y/N. I gave it my all, but the real winner tonight is Lando." He winked. "I'm sure your champion will be here any minute, looking for his girl."

You slapped his arm playfully, a blush creeping up your neck. "Don't say that in here!"

"Everybody knows." He whispered back.

As if on cue, Lando appeared. His eyes scanned the room, a triumphant grin splitting his face when they landed on you. You saw as he and Oscar hugged each other and the rest of the team.

He weaved his way through the crowd, a trail of congratulations and backslaps following him, but it was you he was drawn to. Everyone else faded into the background as he reached you, his victory grin melting into a tender smile reserved only for you.

You welcomed him into a hug, a sweet and loving embrace. He buried his face in your neck, the scent of champagne and his signature cologne an intoxicating mix.

"We did it!" He murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

"You did it!" You corrected, pulling back to cup his face. "I'm so proud of you."

Everyone was engaged in their own celebrations as he took your hand. He led you away from the loud crowd, a silent understanding passing between you. As you slipped inside his driver's room, he locked the door behind him, a thrill of nervousness ran through you.

He closed the distance between you, his eyes roaming your face before settling on your lips. With a tender touch, he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing a seductive path across your lips.

"Please!" He pleaded, his voice low and urgent. "Just this once…" You knew exactly what he craved.

"Lando--" You began.

"Please!" He repeated, his voice laced with a desperation that mirrored your own.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. A part of you, the part that had spent months pushing him away, hesitated. But the other part yearned to give in. You nodded.

He cupped your face in his hands and pressed you against the wall. The next moment, his lips were on yours, the taste of champagne a sweet surprise against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. You clung to his fireproof shirt. The world melted away, replaced by the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against yours. All the reasons you'd held back faded away.

But just as the kiss deepened, a knock on the door jolted you both back to reality. You broke away, gasping for breath.

Lando groaned. "Yeah?" The voice from the other side told him they were expecting him. Lando rolled his eyes. "Just give me a minute."

When you heard the footsteps fade away, you reached for the doorknob, but Lando's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist.

"Stop it, Lando." You whispered.

"Don't!" He pleaded. "You can't tell me you didn't like it. I could feel it, Y/N. Don't deny it."

"I'm not denying it." You admitted your voice barely a whisper. "But you know why this can't happen."

Lando's jaw clenched. "It's NOT inappropriate! Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I waited this long for my first win. I can wait for you, just as long."

He cupped your jaw and before you could react, he leaned in and kissed the corner of your lips. He unlocked the door in one swift motion and stepped out, leaving you breathless.

You'd politely declined Lando's after-party invitation at the strip club near the hotel. You weren't the nightclub type, and deep down, Lando knew that. You assured him that you hadn't rejected it because of the kiss, but the way the call ended, left a pit in your stomach.

"He's mad! I know it." You mumbled to Oscar, who sat beside you at the hotel bar. The rest of the team was split between a game of darts in the back and loud conversations over drinks by the pool. "He didn't say 'bye, love' or 'see you later, beautiful', we just said bye."

Oscar facepalmed as he looked at his drunk best friend rambling about their mutual friend who was likely doing the same thing at the party.

"You're his friend, Y/N, not his girlfriend." He teased, sending a blush creeping up your cheeks. You stammered a reply, but the words got tangled up in your throat. "He's probably getting lucky tonight." He continued. "Deserves it after that win."

The implication hit you like a punch to the gut. "Lucky? You think he'll...?"

A mischievous glint danced in Oscar's eyes. "Oh, absolutely."

You downed the last of your drink, feeling a hollowness in your chest. "Good for him." You mumbled, the words lacking conviction.

Oscar groaned, frustration etching lines on his forehead. "Jesus, Y/N! The only girl he wants to get lucky with is you. Stop playing these mind games and making yourselves miserable!"

You rested your head on your hand, a wave of emotions crashing over you. "Oscar," You confessed, looking him straight in the eye. "I really like him. Like, never liked anyone this way before."

A slow smile spread across his face. "Then do something about it."

Lando was having the best time of his life, celebrating his first win with his friends. He felt his chest vibrate with every beat of the bass, as he laughed with his friends. Despite the fun he was having, he was also experiencing a dull ache. Your absence stood out.

He'd downed a few too many drinks to drown the disappointment steaming inside. When you declined the club invitation, his frustration boiled over into a harsh goodbye, which he quickly regretted.

"Did you see who just walked in?" Max shouted into his ear over the loud music.

"What?" Max pointed towards the entrance, causing a frown to appear on Lando's forehead.

Your arrival sent a jolt through him, he felt a surge of adrenaline and his earlier frustration vanished as a smile stretched across his face.

"Go get your girl, champ!" Max patted his shoulder with a wink.

Lando needed no further encouragement. He navigated his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on you.

You scanned the room with a hint of apprehension. Even in your tipsy state, a voice of reason whispered in your head, questioning this impulsive move.

Just as you turned to leave, a warm hand closed around your wrist. You didn't need to see his face to know who it was. His familiar touch sent a familiar spark across your skin.

He wore a playful smirk, but his eyes held a hint of concern. "I thought you weren't coming."

You tried to appear casual, but your voice betrayed you. "I wasn't."

"How much did you have to drink?" He asked you, and you furrowed your eyebrows. How did he know what you had been doing? You stuttered in response, unsure of what to say. "Did Oscar let you come here drunk?"

"I'm not drunk! And how do you know I've been drinking?"

"Then why the sudden change of heart?" His gaze softened, searching your face. "And Oscar's been keeping me updated."

"Why doe--"

"Why are you here, Y/n?" He asked you.

You felt your face getting hot as you looked around the club, the among of bodies suddenly overwhelming. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, the words catching in your tight throat. "I need a drink."

As you made your way towards the bar, Lando followed closely behind. You approached the counter and asked the bartender for a drink. He nodded and began to mix your order. Lando stood by your side, looking a you.

"How did you get here? Does Oscar know?" The concern in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded and then drank the entire drink that was placed in front of you all at once. "Yes. He called me an Uber and told the guy to drop me here." Lando looked surprised as he noticed the empty glass in your hand. You hadn't intended to drink it so quickly, but your nerves got the best of you.

"Whoa, slow down there."

"I thought you wanted to celebrate!" You said to him as the bartender handed you another drink. You took it and walked away. Lando's face was adorned with a smile, but worry still lingered in his mind. Despite that, there was a sense of happiness as the night was finally complete.

You leaned heavily against Lando, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, as the elevator ride made you feel dizzy. He, somehow, seemed frustratingly sober.

"Hey," He chuckled, his voice warm despite the coolness of the metal walls. You managed a watery smile, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. "What are you thinking about?"

"Dogs." You mumbled. "Do you think they dream about bones?"

Lando's laugh filled the small space. "Maybe. I don't know beautiful."

"Do you think I'm beautiful?" You blurted out, smiling innocently.

He stopped in front of your room, his gaze holding yours. The concern that had flickered in his eyes earlier was gone, replaced by something more intense. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." A giggle erupted from your lips. Lando reacted instinctively, clapping a hand over your mouth. It was late, and the last thing they needed was a noise complaint. "Shh." He murmured. "Gotta be quiet, love."

You nodded. "Okay!"

"Where's your key?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation. You shrugged, the simple action requiring more effort than you cared to admit.

"Lando?" You whined. "Sleepy..."

He cursed under his breath, scanning the empty hallway. Walking up to the front desk for a key wasn't exactly his ideal scenario.

"Alright, you're coming with me." He said gently, scooping you up in his arms. A sleepy protest tumbled from your lips, but you clung to him instinctively as he carried you back towards the elevator.

"Can we go to the beach?" You mumbled as the doors closed.

"The beach will be there in the morning." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's almost five am."

A giggle escaped you. "Naked swim?"

He cleared his throat, the sound a little rough. You'd been a delightful firecracker all night, and he was struggling to keep his cool. "The shower's a much better option right now."

The elevator doors slid open, and with a sigh, he carried you out, your head chilling against his shoulder. He fumbled with his keycard, finally pushing the door open with his foot.

In the room, he gently laid you on the bed, the soft sheets making you relax and close your eyes.

For a moment, he stood there, watching you. The urge to pull you close, to feel your warmth against him, was killing him. But your vulnerability state held him back.

"Hey, love?" He said softly, his voice laced with concern. "Can I take off your shoes?"

You mumbled something incomprehensible but managed a weak nod. He carefully removed your heels, his fingers brushing against your ankle for a fleeting moment that sent a jolt through him.

"Maybe a shower would be good." He suggested, his voice gruff. "You'll sleep better."

"With you?" She asked him, excited.

Lando, still feeling the effects of alcohol, ran his fingers through his hair, feeling hot.

"You can't imagine how much I want to say yes... But no, not tonight." You pouted. Grabbing your hands, he pulled you up. "Ask me again tomorrow!"

He gently led you to the bathroom and helped you sit down. He waited for the water to warm up, and when it was ready, he turned around. Suddenly, Lando's breath caught in his throat.

Without him realising, you had taken off your clothes. You stood bathed in the soft glow, vulnerability etched on your face, wearing only your black lace lingerie.

He tore his gaze from you. His heart beat a frantic rhythm against his ribs, mimicking the feel of the alcohol in his veins. Only if you weren't drunk...

"Are you okay?" Your voice was so gentle and innocent, nothing like it normally sounded. You reached out and touched his back. He flinched the innocent gesture a powerful trigger for his already steaming desire.

"Y/N, please!" He pleaded. "If you keep touching me..." The sentence trailed off, the implication hanging heavy in the air. The more he looked at you, the more his willpower crumbled. Shame washed over him. "Love, just take a shower. You need to sober up." He gestured to a pile of clothes on the counter. "There are some of mine there. I'll be outside when you're done."

You stayed in the shower for a while, the hot water feeling good against your skin. You weren't completely sober, the world still held a gentle sway, but the edge of drunkenness had dimmed.

Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel Lando had left out.

As you dried your hair, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Even in the state of mind you were, you knew you were going to regret it in the morning. You put on the clothes he had left you and shoved the feeling down.

Lando, scrolling through his phone on the bed, looked up when the bathroom door creaked open. Relief washed over him as he saw you wrapped in his clothes.

"Feeling better?" He asked. You offered a small nod, leaning weakly against the doorframe. The playful energy that had fueled you earlier had dimmed, replaced by exhaustion. "Good!" He said, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sleepy?" You simply nodded again. He cleared his throat, the silence growing heavy in the room. "So... Are you comfortable sharing the bed, or...?"

"It's fine." You mumbled. A playful glint flickered in your eyes. "And I promise I won't, uh, bite."

Lando chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Don't get me wrong, love," He said, his voice dropping to a raspy whisper. "You could do whatever you wanted most nights, believe me. But not tonight."

He gestured to the empty spot beside him on the bed, inviting you to join him, an unspoken tension lingering in the air.

You waddled across the room, the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your body. Climbing onto the bed, you scooted closer to him, a nervous feeling running through you, despite the lingering effects of the alcohol still dancing through your veins.

"Can we at least...?" You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper. "You know... a goodnight kiss?

"You're a menace when you're drunk, you know that?" He teased, a playful sparkle in his eyes.

You batted your eyelashes in a way you knew usually worked. He sighed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Alright, alright!" He complied. "But on the cheek. Lips are off-limits tonight."

You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face. As he leaned in, the faint scent of his cologne filled your senses. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He murmured, his voice sending a flutter to your heart. "Hope you'll remember this tomorrow morning."

"Goodnight, race winner." You replied, a hint of sleepiness in your voice.

Sunlight pierced through the blinds, finding your eyelids and forcing them open with a groan. Your head felt like a maraca that had been shaken all night, and your mouth tasted like a desert. Sitting up cautiously, you winced at the throbbing in the back of your head.

Memories and fragments started to come back. The kiss, the club, the dancing, Lando's strong arm around you... and then... a complete blank. Panic started to rise in your chest. What had you done? Had you said something stupid or done something worse?

The bedroom door creaked open and Lando entered, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. He looked like a vision with his rumpled hair and a smile breaking out on his face as soon as he saw you awake.

"Good morning, sunshine!" He said, his voice sounding awful to your pounding head.

"Don't yell!" You mumbled. "Water?"

He chuckled, handing you a bottle of water. He sat on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes. You took a grateful sip, the cool liquid easing the dryness in your throat.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" He asked you, sitting on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes.

You took a deep breath. "I remember... bits and pieces." You admitted, shame creeping up your cheeks. "Lando, I am sorry if I did something or said something wrong... I must have been awful. I was very, very drunk."

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I wish you felt that comfortable around me all the time." Lando reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch sent a jolt through you. "You know how much I like you... Y/n, I'm in love with you."

Your heart hammered against your ribs at his confession. A real and pure confession.

"Lando--" You breathed, your voice thick with emotion.

He took your hand in his, his eyes filled with a gentle understanding. "I know..." He said, his voice a soothing balm. "Just know that I'll wait for you. However long it takes." He squeezed your hand.

Tears welled up in your eyes. The years of running, of pushing him away, suddenly seemed pointless. All you wanted was to be here, with him.

Leaning forward, you met his gaze. Then, you cupped his face gently and placed a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. It was a kiss filled with apology and relief.

"I'm tired of running." You whispered against his lips. "I'm in love with you too. I've always have."

Lando couldn't help but grin as you hugged him. First, the win, then the kiss and now the girl of his dreams confessing her feelings. Yeah, you could definitely say it was a very good day for Lando No Wins.

"I love you, Y/n." You smiled, a genuine, heart-melting smile.

"I love you too, Lando." You knew, at that moment, hugging the person you had been in love with for years, that you were finally home.

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #lando norris imagine

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hees-mine · 2 days

Text

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟓 (𝐞𝐧𝐝)

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, angst, fluff, crying, age gap, taboo relationship.

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, minors do not interact!

WC: 3,099k+

⟱⟱⟱

When the early morning came, you were stirred awake by the feeling of heeseung’s palm lightly stroking your side as he placed a few soft pecks on your cheek. “Morning, hee,” you whisper groggily, your eyes still closed with your back facing him.

You scoot into him so he can cover you in his warmth, and he snuggles up to you, pressing his naked chest flush against your back. “Morning, my princess,” he giggles, and you can feel the soft rumble in his chest, making you smile. “Sorry to wake you. Didn’t want you to wake up to an empty bed.”

You hum, acknowledging him. “What time is it?”

“5:06, so I need to leave soon,” he mumbles against your neck, tickling you.

You groan in disapproval, but you know there’s no way he can stay. That being said, you don’t say anything, nor do you make any moves to bid him goodbye because you don’t want him to leave.

“I’ll miss you.” he kissed the back of your neck, his toes playing with yours under the sheer white sheets. “Everything you said to me last night, is that all still true?”

“Of course, hee, you know I never stopped loving you.” You placed your hand over his, which was still resting on your waist.

“Me too, love. Just thought maybe you’d come to your senses the morning after,” he jokes, but you don’t really find it to be amusing.

“Hee…” you squeezed his hand for reassurance. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s hard not to when you fuck up the way I did. I’m surprised you even want to see me, let alone talk to me and make love to me.” his voice drops even lower than it already was, and it made your chest ache the way he was beating himself up. It’s not like he intentionally hurt you.

“You didn’t mess up. Everything you said last night was true, right?” You reversed his question on him.

“Yes, mam, so true,” he hums.

“Then I’d be a fool not to want to see you, talk to you, and make love to you.” You smile and scoot even closer to him, your lower parts pressing together, leaving no space for the other not to say either of you wanted space.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he held you tighter. “Thank you for forgiving me, y/n, and taking me back.”

“Thank you for explaining yourself and keeping our promise,” you whispered.

“Of course, baby, you know I couldn’t just let you go like that” he kisses the shell of your ear as he rolls his hips into you testing to make sure he wasn’t getting the wrong signal from you and he knew he wasn’t as soon as he heard you moan quietly and grind your ass up against his crotch. “Really, princess?” He teases you. “You need me this early in the morning?” He whispers in your ear, licking the shell of it while he bucks his hips, matching your rhythm with a soft groan.

“Hee,” you whine, already feeling yourself becoming wet just from his touch. “I need you all the time.”

“Fuck princess, so do I, every fucking second,” he says and closes his eyes, not even trying to hide the effect you had on him while he succumbed to the pleasure, his warm shaft thick and pulsing on the soft flesh of your backside. “We gotta be quick, though, okay?”

You nod as soon as the words leave his lips, and you don’t care how quick you two have to be. You just need him inside of you right now.

You could feel his precum sticking to your ass as he humped his cock against you repeatedly, his hot breath on your ear getting heavier with every motion.

He moved his hand from your waist long enough to grip the base of his length and push the head of his cock in you.

“Hmm,” your opening clenched around his shaft, and he slowly pulled out just to push in again, entering you with much more ease, the stretch fueling your each and every desire for him.

Your hot, wet walls guide him in inch by inch until he bottoms out and reaches your cervix.

He reached around you, his hand gripping your breast while he started out slow to feel every dip, curve, and ridge of your pussy; your silky walls squeezed him in all the right places to have him biting on his lip to stop himself from making too much noise. “You always feel so fucking good” he circled your nipple rolling it between his fingers. “I’m so obsessed with you.”

You arched your back at his words. With the new angle, you could feel him pushing even deeper than before, and your toes curled at the sensation of his cock pumping your dripping wet hole.

You placed your hand on the back of his neck, your fingers gripping his soft hair. “Heeseung,” you moan, not as quietly as you would have liked, and he is quick to do something about it.

He took his palm off your right breast and held his thumb in front of your lips. “Suck on it,” he whispered in your ear, and you complied immediately, sucking on his thumb the way you would his cock.

“Atta princess,” he quickens the pace of his hips as beads of sweat form on your bodies. “Fuck, I’m so lucky to have you,” he says out of breath already. “I fucking love you so much.”

You want to say it back, and he knows it, but the harsh clenching of your walls tells him all he needs to know as his hips meet flush against your ass, and he fills you to the brim with his thick cock over and over.

You can only moan around his thumb, softly swirling your tongue around his digit as you soak his shaft with your creamy wetness, losing your mind to the pleasure.

He pressed his face against your neck, licking and kissing beneath your earlobe as he started to twitch inside you uncontrollably. “I’m really close,” he whimpers softly, his kisses turning wet sloppy, and desperate the longer he strokes deep inside your warm cunt. “Keep quiet, pretty,” he says before withdrawing his thumb from your mouth, his hand traveling between your quivering legs to play with your clit.

“Oh god, yes heeseung, yes right there, don’t stop,” you say as best as you can, keeping your sounds to a minimum as the heat builds in your lower stomach, and all that’s left is to patiently wait for that inevitable pressure to release throughout your body and disperse into the most intense euphoric sensation you’ve ever felt. “Kiss me.” You turn to him as best as you can, your eyes locking on every last beautiful feature of his face.

His eyes were lidded with arousal, the strands of his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, and his lips were parted as shallow breaths came out, making him the most attractive sight you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

You pulled his head closer by the nape of his neck, your lips messily locking in the first kiss of the morning.

He groaned into your mouth, his tongue immediately swirling with yours as you exchanged saliva and soft moans of pleasure. “C-cumming,” you mumbled into the kiss, your orgasm hitting you hard as your walls spasmed around his veiny pulsating length, and you both weren’t just connected physically but mentally as well as he let himself go, following your lead into bliss.

“Me too.” his words get lost in the messy, heated kiss as you both struggle for air, never parting for even a second until your orgasms fade and you’re filled with every last drop of his love for you.

Heavy breathing fills your bedroom as you stare into each other's eyes, and out of nowhere, you both smile and break out into a fit of giggles as he holds you close. “I love you too,” you tell him since you didn’t get to earlier.

“God, you make me so happy.” he smiles and squeezes your figure, and as much as he was enjoying himself, sadly, this moment would have to come to an end. “I don’t wanna leave you,” he whines jokingly, but you can see his eyes are a little watery.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper, looking back at him. “I’ll text you all day today, and I’ll call you tonight, and maybe if you’re up to it, you can sneak over again.” You smile shyly as he grins at you.

“Okay, princess, sounds like a plan.” he kissed your lips softly and gently pulled out of you. He checked the time again, and you both lay down a little bit longer. “Seven more minutes”

After the few minutes were up, he peeled himself off you with a lot of protest from your end. “I’m not leaving just yet, princess. I'm just gonna grab some tissue to clean you up with.” You shyly hid under the sheets, and he winked at you, going to the bathroom and grabbing some wet wipes off your counter.

He removed the sheets slowly from your body and began wiping your intimate area. The soft look in his eyes while doing it made you melt, and you couldn’t believe you got so lucky to be with someone like him, and the aftercare was a big plus.

He discards the used wipes in the bin next to your bed, and all you can do is smile at him, not even noticing him rummaging through your drawers until he is handing you a pair of underwear and a shirt. “Here, baby put those on.” You do as he says while he dresses himself as well.

Once you both finish, he covers your body with a comforter, tossing the dirty sheet to the side and kissing your forehead before he gets ready to leave. “Love you, my princess. You promise you’ll text me?” He says with a pout, getting all cute on you out of nowhere.

“Promise, hee,” he smiles, leaning down to peck your lips one last time.

“Bye, love. I’ll be waiting for your text.”

“Okay, bye,” you whisper, and the last thing you see is his bright smile before your door closes.

You sigh sadly, but you know he has to go before your parents wake up. Luckily for him, he was able to sneak out of the house quietly, but he was gonna have to get used to this cause he’d definitely be coming over quite often to see you.

It was 3:05 when you received a notification on your phone. You were chilling in your bedroom, texting back and forth with heeseung like you promised, and when you heard the chime, your phone made you smile, reaching for the device.

You tapped the power button expecting to see a text from him, but your heart dropped to your stomach when your best friend's name flashed across the screen.

You immediately dropped the phone, and a loud gasp left your lips.

The absolute last thing you were expecting was a text from her, and your mind went to the worst places possible.

Did she find out?

How does she know?

What is she texting for?

“We need to talk”

You opened the message, reading the text over and over again, your heart racing in your chest rapidly.

You grip your phone tightly, your thumbs shaking with nerves as you type a reply.

“Sure, what time?” You try to respond as casually as possible.

She replies immediately.

“Now”

You’re so scared you leave the text on read and rummage through your closet, throwing on anything that’s suitable for going out.

You rush downstairs, your mom calling after you, and you say a quick bye before slipping into your shoes and rushing out the door.

Your mind was riddled with the worst thoughts possible, and your legs couldn’t move fast enough to arrive at your ex-best friend's house.

When you finally did, you knocked on the door, balancing on the balls of your feet until the door swung open, revealing your best friend.

Before you can even greet her, she shuts the door after you take a few steps in. “I know,” is all she says, and your world feels like it’s coming to an end.

That means she knew you were still going behind her back and lying to her, plus heeseung was doing the same. You felt terrible.

But you could only imagine it felt much worse for her to be lied to by her father and her best friend. It was the most heart-wrenching betrayal, and you played a big part in it.

You were shaking with nerves, eyes starting to water with tears. “I’m sorry”

You apologize through a sob. You weren’t sorry for being with her dad cause you loved that man with everything, but you were sorry for doing it all behind her back.

The silence is loud as she chews on her lip in thought.

You tried to step forward and hug her, but she moved back, and you felt your knees grow weak. “Please forgive me. I’m so sorry,” you cried, now, wet tears dripping down your cheeks cause you missed her so much.

It takes about another minute of silence before she finally responds. “You’re really sorry?” She asked, looking you dead in the eye.

“So sorry,” you reply hoarsely, wiping your tears with the cuff of your hoodie, only for more to take their place.

“And you love my father?” Her tone is one of questioning, but her voice is calm as if she had already thought long and hard about this before asking to talk with you.

“More than anything in the world,” you whisper quietly.

“Then okay,” she says and smiles afterward, which shocks you completely.

“O-okay? What do you mean, okay?” You reply, confused, your eyebrows furrowed, and you're not so patiently waiting for an explanation.

“Then you two have my approval.” She nodded to herself. Now that the words were coming out, her heart felt lighter, and she knew this was the right thing to do, even if she was a bit uncomfortable with it.

Just as you’re about to respond, Heeseung comes through the door from his shift. “Sweetpea, I’m ho-“ he stops dead in his tracks when he turns around and sees the both of you in his living room.

His face goes pale as he looks between you two. The same thoughts that were running through your head earlier are now running through his, and he tries to do his best to de-escalate the situation once he sees that you have tears in your eyes. “Sweetpea, it’s not what you thi-“

His daughter cuts his words, repeating the same thing she told you. “I know everything, Dad.”

His shoulders slump, and his head drops with disappointment. “I’m sorry,” he mutters with his head down. “I really am. I tried so hard to make things right, but I just couldn’t see a way to do that without going behind your back. You’re the most important girls in my life, and I just wanted you both to be happy after all this time. After the divorce, I wanted to be happy too, but all I did was complicate things, and y/n, I’m sorry for everything.”

He stared at the ground, his fingers fiddling with the seam of his suit pants.

It went silent again, but after he felt his daughter wrapping her arms around him, he forgot everything else, dropping his suitcase and immediately hugged her back in the tightest embrace he could muster.

“I know, Dad. I’m sorry, too. I know I was selfish, but I was just hurt, and I felt betrayed because you both hid things from me. But seeing you so down for years after the divorce, I realized that I just wanted you to be happy, even if it was with my best friend,” she sobs onto his shoulder.

“Oh sweetpea, I won’t ever hide anything from you ever again. I wanted to tell you, but I just didn’t know how.” A tear ran down his cheek as he rubbed her back to comfort his baby.

You watched the two of them talking through everything that had transpired over the past few months, and for once, you didn’t have to hide the love in your eyes for your best friend's father.

The scene before you was so wholesome you’re just happy that they were able to work through things despite what happened in the past.

He kissed her on her forehead as they separated from the hug. “Promise?” She stuck out her pinky, ready to swear on it.

Heeseung smiled proudly at his daughter, so grown but still just his little baby at heart. “Promise.” he looked over to you, and your smile made his heart feel at ease, and he could see a whole future with you in your eyes. “Come here.” He beckoned you closer.

His daughter stepped back, giving you space to reunite with each other. “I love you,” you whispered in his ear as you engulfed him.

“Love you, my princess,” he pecked you on the lips.

“Eww, not in front of me, not yet, at least.” Your best friend looks at you both with a disgusted look, but behind it, you could tell she was trying to stop herself from smiling.

“Hey! Group hug,” heeseung cheered as you three formed a circle and hugged each other.

“Okay, that’s enough.” his daughter pulls away first, and he ruffles her hair, getting a glare in return.

“There she is, back to herself self,” heeseung laughed as his daughter walked upstairs.

“No kissing in front of me, no flirting, and y/n, you’re my best friend, not my mom, so don’t even try it.” With that, you hear her door close and then turn to look at heeseung as you both release a relieved sigh.

“So…” he breathes out, his smile growing wider the more the reality sets in.

“Sooooooo?” You chuckle and wrap your arms around him.

“I’m so happy,” he grins and closes his eyes, pressing his lips to yours softly. “I love you.”

You held each other in the middle of the living room, the same spot where you both fell in love. It was definitely a bumpy ride, but you’d do it all again if it had this same outcome.

You hum against his lips. “I love you too.” You confess your love to him, and that definitely won’t be the last time.

here it is, I hope yall are happy. 😒

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

⟱⟱⟱

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours

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yuri-is-online · 3 days

Note

Hi hi so can we have an expansion of middle school Floyd completely being his unfiltered self around yuu (maybe even octotrio going like "Oh please don't believe that merculture is like this" because middle school Floyd is embarrassing them in front of their crush) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Hmmm

So Floyd says morays are cowards right, but my experiences with little kids tell me that they don't always have the best sense of self-preservation. I picture little Floyd as one of those kids on crack. He thinks this human is cute! Especially because they don't have the sense to be afraid of him at all and are calling him cute, that's real funny. What if he just takes a big chomp outta ya, will you still think he's cute? As for the embarrassment, well...

Azul

It comes from how blunt little Floyd is.

He's got even less patience for Azul's plans than big Floyd does, and the complete inability to see the value of waiting for the pay off. He's actively getting angry at him and throwing temper tantrums every time Azul tries to smooth things over with Yuu.

"No you can't get the ability to breathe underwater from kissing a mermaid Floyd is making that up. And no not all merfolk are obsessed with legs that's just a him thing-"

"Nah Azul really likes your legs and pretty much everything you do with them!" Little Floyd is loud enough that other people than just you are looking at him in confusion (Azul is convinced it is overwhelming judgment) because he's choking on a mixture of spit and air because how did he pick up on that already?!? Azul thinks he's so subtle when he admires you, he's got to be so you don't think he's weird.

He can't wait for this to be over, he can handle being made fun of by the twins now since they've got a good rapport and he can give as good as he gets but little Floyd is like a sea otter with a clam, he just won't let this go because he thinks octopus courtship is boring and he's not above saying that. Outloud. In front of you.

Jade

It's from how willing he is to throw Jade under the bus.

Floyd knows Jade pretty well, even if it's a younger version of him so he knows just how down bad stupid Jade is within 15 seconds and he is determined to "help."

Said help is mostly just humming a very specific song while swimming around you in circles and doing little tricks to "set the mood." Or asking you what you think about Jade when he thinks he's out of earshot, something he's never once been since little Floyd got summoned.

He thought this would be fun, Floyd is always so delightfully unpredictable and now there's two of him! But instead of bothering Azul he's decided to torture Jade and ruin his carefully cultivated image instead. He sort of gets why Azul was so determined to get rid of all his childhood photos now, you're never going to look at him the same after this.

When his efforts don't work because Jade is too much of a coward little Floyd starts just telling you a bunch of stuff they got up to as kids in an effort to embarras him. It clearly works from how quick Jade is to shove him to the side but you're polite enough to keep the laughter to a minimum. For the most part

Floyd

It comes from how much of a coward he is.

Floyd is waiting for the right time to speak with you, when he's extra sure that you feel the same as he does. When he knows you'll accept everything he wants to give you and more.

But no. Little him has to say everything that comes into his mind. "Are your legs soft? Why are you leaking seawater? Do all humans really only have ten toes and can I count them-"

If you find this funny, I think it might depress him somewhat. He wants you to see all the ways he's smart and not brush him off as an unserious joke. If you think it's cute, well that's a mix of emotions. He doesn't want you to see him as cute now, but it's ok if you find morays cute, and even nicer if you find baby morays cute. That thought alone perks him up.

Until little Floyd starts telling Yuu he thinks they're cute. Then he gets possessive and starts competing with himself like a looser. Probably by picking Yuu up and carrying them away since his legs are longer and he can get away faster.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #I'm writing this on my phone so apologies if there's any typos #I'm thinking about getting soup #or pizza #... probably just gonna have some cereal though

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nvuy · 2 days

Note

I saw the Boothill text messages leaks and he physically can not cry. How does this info make u feel 🎤

GIVE ME THAT 🎤

“Theoretical question…” Boothill gratefully takes the glass of wine you hand to him before you sidle up next to him in the grass. “…But say the sun was g’nna blow up tomorrow, and you were the only one that knew about it. What would you do?”

He pulls off his hat and rests it by his feet. He feels you staring at him. Your gaze is warm, yet something about it bothers him. Like you’re trying to read him.

He presses his lips together in a thin line.

“That’s definitely a question,” you murmur beneath your breath. “Why?”

He says nothing for a moment.

The warm breeze is gentle.

He’s still staring at the sunset when he replies, “dunno. ‘M curious.” His words are accompanied by a casual shrug.

He hears you shift, maybe slightly uncomfortable. The wine in your glass sloshes.

He takes a sip from his own glass. It’s not his favourite, but you can’t really afford anything to his tastes. But, for what it’s worth, the wine is nice, and good enough to take his mind off how his metal fingers still seem to tremble when he mentions the end of the world.

Sweet and benign on his tongue, just like you. He hums and studies the drink through the glass. Maybe cheap booze ain’t too shabby.

“I guess I’d spend it with my family,” you say. You, too, shrug.

“Would you tell ‘em?” He turns his head to look at you. “That the world’s endin’?”

He watches as you inhale.

Then, you say, “no.” There’s a light shake of your head to accompany your words. “I don’t want to scare them.”

That’s what he did, too. Many, many years ago.

He remembers seeing red smeared all over her little face. How it slowly turned a deep purple as she held her breath. How it then faded completely with its colour, and he lost sight of her gorgeous pinkish cheeks when she took her final breaths.

“What would ya say to them in the last minute?”

He can’t remember her voice anymore.

That lump in his throat swells, and it feels like a cold marble. He’s so tired of trying to swallow it.

“I think I’d be too busy crying like a baby, but…” It was a lighthearted joke as you nudge him in the side. He only lets out a humourless puff of air through his nose. “I’d tell them I love them. That they’re the best people I’ve ever known.”

Something heavy weighs in his chest like hot iron, burning and bubbling at the base of his throat. “Yeah. I get it.”

You touch his cheek gently. “You okay?”

He’s not. “‘M fine.”

“Would you stay with me?” you ask him. “Theoretically. If the world ended tomorrow?”

That cracks a smile on his face, though it’s light. “Sure I would. Theoretically.” The sun always felt nice on his face.

Your skin was even nicer against his. You rest against his shoulder, and he leans his head to press his ear to the side of your face.

“If my metal body’s good for anythin’, I’d try to shield you from the blast.”

You snort. “I appreciate it, though I don’t think even a cyborg can withstand the sun exploding.” You reach up and pet his hair. The white strands pool along your fingertips like running water.

He leans into your touch. “Still. I gots ta try.”

You sigh and flick his forehead lightly. “All theoretical, Boothill.”

The cowboy hums, and you feel it ripple across your skin like waves. “Course.”

“Hopefully the world doesn't end tomorrow,” you add. “You still haven’t taught me how to play the guitar.”

Boothill turns his head so his nose presses to the side of your face. Although his skin is cold, you feel warm and fuzzy. “Even if the world ends, I’d be happy right here.” He reaches down and pats your lap firmly.

He feels your face heat up and you groan. “You’re terrible.”

His cold lips press to your temple and he snickers. “You like it.”

#$. love mail #$. anon #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill hsr #boothill x you #hsr boothill x reader #boothill

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totheblood · 14 hours

Text

white horse

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer notices a change in you and helps you in his own spencer way

warnings: mostly fluff, grief mentions.

a/n: wrote this short thing to fix my spencer reid obsession! AI AUDIOS in the fic also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 1k

"my heart always wants to run."

Spencer was unfocused.

The hum of the air conditioner in the precinct wasn’t enough to drown out the thousands of thoughts in his head. What he should have been doing was analyzing the geographical profile of the current unsub, maybe even collecting witness statements or completing paperwork, but no. Spencer Reid was unfocused on the case and completely focused on you.

Ever since Hotch presented the case your entire body language had changed. It was like you had folded in on yourself, deflated in a way that made Spencer’s heart crunch. On the flight to LA, you nervously bit at your nails as the team spoke, bouncing ideas off each other, not contributing to the conversation like you usually did. You took a backseat in this case and for the life of him, Spencer couldn’t figure out why.

The minute you joined the BAU you were as elusive as they came. You barely spoke about yourself, never attended group gatherings, and kept conversations strictly professional. Spencer used to brainstorm reasons as to why you were so reserved, but he stopped once he started thinking of ways to get you to like him.

He would bring you the mini muffins from the cafeteria that were always sold out by noon, but you would always politely decline and claim you had just eaten. He would sit next to you on the jet and make small talk to which you replied with one-word answers. He always made an effort to include you in conversations not pertaining to work but you just would not budge. The only time he got a glimpse into the real you was when he made a stupid off-hand joke about Aristotle and you chuckled from your desk. He did his best to ignore the feeling that swelled in his chest.

Now he was getting a glimpse into your life in a way that he didn’t expect. You were on edge. Something about this case was personal to you. He noticed it in the way you took small gasps every time a new body was found, or how you opted to do paperwork instead of being in the field. As someone who has seen you do a million takedowns with a smile on your face, Spencer knew something was wrong when you opted to stay back. The unsub was kidnapping pairs of sisters, murdering one, and letting the other live. It was gruesome and cruel, and he was accelerating. Spencer should have been doing literally anything to help, but his attention was on you.

“I can feel you staring,” you breathed from your place at the large conference table, not looking up from the paperwork.

“Oh, uh-” Spencer fumbled as he sat up, “I’m not- I wasn’t really staring, I would say I was observing.”

You put your pen down and looked up at him, eyes squinted as you looked at his face, “Why?”

There was an edge to your voice, like you were already pissed and he was just making it worse.

“Well, you usually write faster, you have a notch in between your eyebrows like you’re thinking really hard about something, or trying not to. And you, uh, scratch the back of your ear when you’re nervous,” he blurted out, sitting up straighter, “and uh, I wanted to make sure you were… okay,”

His last sentence made you sit up straighter as your whole face softened. You looked down at the papers in front of you then back up at him, “I didn’t realize anyone noticed,” you whispered voice low.

“Well,” he started, getting up and moving to sit down next to you, “you’re one of us… aaand we’re profilers, we kind of notice these things.”

You let out a small laugh as you shook your head and looked up at him. His hazel eyes were practically sparkling as he stared at you. If you were being completely honest, it was intimidating.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been,” you squint your eyes, thinking of the word to think of, “distant. I’m just not used to all of this, it’s overwhelming.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said almost instantly, voice soft, “This job is a lot, I don’t blame you. But today… this case,” his voice trailed off.

You took a deep sigh, resting your hands in your hands as you shut your eyes for a minute before you spoke, “My sister… she died. I don’t want to talk about it but, this case reminds me of it. Reminds me of her.”

“I understand,” Spencer hummed, in such a soft voice that it almost instantly soothed you.

“God, it happened so long ago I just don’t understand why I can’t get over it,” you shook your head, rubbing at your face before speaking again, “it’s like every time I remember it, I shut down. It’s like I’m broken or something.”

Spencer paused for a moment, looking you over before speaking, “Did you know that grief can actually alter your brain chemistry? Research has shown that the intense emotions associated with grief can increase levels of cortisol which can impact memory and cognitive function. In fact, there's evidence suggesting that the brain of a grieving person might resemble that of someone with a traumatic brain injury.”

You looked over at him, eyes a little wide as if you were taking in everything he just said.

“I don’t know if that helps but-” Spencer started but was cut off by the sound of your voice.

“It helps,” you breathed a laugh, “it really helps, so uh, thanks.”

“You know, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to-” He spoke before tumbling over his words, “I mean we’re all here if you need someone, not just me but all of us.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile which he returned, “Thank you, Spencer,” you looked back at your paper before glancing back at him, “I might take you up on that offer.”

With his cheeks tinged pink, he nodded, picked up his messenger bag and exited the precinct conference room where Derek was stood in the doorway, clapping a hand on his back as he exited, “You’re in deep, pretty boy,” he commented with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Spencer said under his breath, his cheeks now growing a shade or two darker.

You had said maybe the most you ever had to him in your entire four months of working there and Spencer left the room blushing. He was for sure in deep.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic

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th3lovely1 · 3 days

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Caitlin Clark Headcanons

♡♡♡♡♡

-Bullet point form😗

- Heated stuff and all that

♡♡♡♡♡

Sfw

• Is protective of you but not in the crazy obsessive way. She just feels better when you're in her view in public and likes to make sure you're next to her.

• When someone's hitting on you, she knows that you can handle it, but if the person can't take a hint, then she has no problem stepping in. I don't see her as a big fist fighter, so she tries to deal with the situation by talking, but if it doesn't work, then she'll throw hands for you.

• Lovesss laying on you

"Hun, I can't breathe"

"Just a little longer, beautiful"

"I can't hold my breath for that long"

• She will always joke about your height no matter what. If you're taller than her or shorter, she doesn't care. She makes so many corny jokes. If you're shorter then her she does that thing where she rests her arm on your head. And she'll also just pick you up sometimes and leave you in the air. She thinks it's so funny.

"Cait, you better get your arm off me"

"Y'all hear that?"

And it's the same if you're taller than her. She'll still make corny jokes whenever she can.

"How's the weather up there?"

"I know you're not talking"

• She's not very public about your relationship. She'll still post you on her socials and stuff, but she's not doing it every day. But when she gets questions about you in interviews or lives, she always makes sure that people know how big her love is for you.

"Oh, Y/n? She is the light of my life. She's always supported me through this and has been the rock that keeps me stable. She's part of the reason why I'm here today. I wouldn't ask for anyone else"

• Her love language would probably be physical touch and gift giving. She gets busy with basketball, so she gets you little gifts when she can. And when she's shopping and sees something you like, it's automatically in her cart. But when you guys get alone time, she's all over you. She'll follow you like a lost puppy😭. And even in public, she feels better whenever she's touching you. Doesn't matter if it's holding hands or just your arms touching

Nsfw

• The eye contact, omg. Doesn't matter if she's finger deep in you or how messy you think you look, she wants you to look at her

"Eyes on me, baby. I know you can do it"

• Sooo much praise. Always makes sure that you know that you're just doing so good for her.

"Just like that, sweet thing. There you go, such a good girl"

• I don't think she'd be too big about degradation. She uses it but only when she's upset or something like that. But when she does, it's not hard-core. More stuff like "slut" and "brat" just the basics.

•Her hands. That's all I gotta say

• Makes sure that you finish at least 2 or 3 times before she gets attention. But even then she's still making you cum

"You can take it, babe. Don't worry, I got you"

• Anything in public is a no-go. The only thing that she'll do is some teasing.

• Loves when you pull her hair

• Aftercare is the best. She always makes sure you're taken care of

"Did such a good job for me, hun"

#x reader #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #wlw post #wlw #lesbian #caitlin clark headcannons #wbb #wnba #fan fic smut

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akxmee · 3 days

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★ 03. 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗬𝗘𝗧.

You looked at the man in front of you, processing his offer. Yeah, a little bit of help wouldn't hurt since you had no idea of what to pick for Satoru and Suguru. Since he was a man too, he would know about it right? Besides, it won't take more than five minutes.

"I mean, why not?"

He gave you a nod, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head to the side as he looked at you up and down.

"So..for who might it be? Don't think you're looking for male clothes just for ya', are you?"

"No, they're for my friends."

"Right." He looked at you, then at the clothes you were looking at just before he appeared. "And how are they?"

"Nice, i guess?"

A short pause was made, the black haired man raised an eyebrow as if he didn't understand what you just said.

"..I was refering to the size. Tall, medium, short?"

You reacted immediately, embarrassed of what you had just said. He on the other hand, snickered because of that.

"Oh. Uhm, yeah. They're tall"

"How tall?"

"Really tall."

He hummed, looking through different clothes around. If they were tall, then their clothes would probably be some large size ones. He asked for you to follow him, and you did. This man who you didn't even know his name was actually pretty nice; he was between casual and polite, asking you about your friends and their style even if he mentioned he wasn't really an expert at shopping. Turns out he even had the best wallet-friendly tips and recommendations too, that's a bonus.

When you reached a specific section, his hands moved to grab a pair of hoodies, both of the same brand and in different colours.

"Then this is for you, doll." He motioned to give the clothes to you. "Won't disappoint, trust my word. I use them every now and then."

"Thanks, mr.."

"Call me Fushiguro, no need for formalities. I'm not that much older than you anyways."

He answered, folding the hoodies and helping you to get them into your cart. You thanked him, thanks to Fushiguro you were able to find lots of clothes for the boys to wear for an economic price. He didn't know a lot about combining clothes, but with a little description of satoru and suguru he had been able of making a few outfits each.

The two of you walked through every corner of the store, talking about trivial things while you collected what you thought it was best. Sometimes he corrected you and told you to pick a bigger size since that one wouldn't fit someone tall, and some other times you were the one that corrected him because your friends wouldn't wear something like that even if you paid them to. Of course, jokes were also exchanged between the two of you while the clothes were being chosen. Bad ones enough to make another clients glare at you two, but jokes nonetheless.

This time you spent with him, approximately 20 minutes, was not as awkward as you expected it to be at first. He wasn't really as intimidating as you expected him to be and his sarcasm was kinda funny, so time flew faster than anticipated.

So now you were chatting with him now about some brand he told you about while grabbing the last pair of shoes of the day to put them inside your car when, out of nowhere, a voice calls your name.

"Y/N, where were you?"

You looked behind you, finding Suguru.

Fushiguro smiled.

"So Y/N it is? Cute name."

You looked at him, realizing now that you never even told him your name. How unpolite! He told you his and you forgot something as important as that.

"Ah, yeah it is! Sorry, i didn't even introduce myself properly."

Suguru looked at you, then at the man next to you. He just looked at Suguru with that shit-eating grin still present on his face, placing his hand on your shoulder. Suguru's jaw clenched at this, but smiled nonetheless.

"No worries, doll. Is this one of the 'friends' you were talking about?"

You look at Fushiguro somehow confused because of what he just did, not knowing if it was okay for him to touch you when you met him twenty minutes ago. However, seeing how he is, he doesn't look like the type of man to care about things such as boundaries with strangers so you didn't think too much about it.

"Yeah, that's Suguru. Suguru, meet Fushiguro." The long haired male listened to you as if he was looking for an explanation, so you gave it to him. "He helped me pick some clothes for you both."

"That's right, I was just about to leave anyways." The man shrugged, taking his hand off you. "But I'm glad I made a friend. I'll see you around, yea?"

"Right! Thank you, really. I hope to see you soon!"

Oh, he was sure he would.

And Suguru was too.

And that was bad. Oh, so bad.

But he couldn't tell you, not yet.

So he simply positioned himself next to you peeking at your mini cart where you carried all of the items, pretending like nothing happened.

"Well Y/N, what did you two find for us? Don't be so shy now, tell me.."

"I can't believe you really like those cheap glasses over everything i just bought you."

Satoru just smiled, putting the glasses on and looking at his reflection in the window of the car as he posed and looked at himself from different angles.

"Watch your mouth! They're actually cool. Isn't that right, Suguru?"

The white haired man grinned, his gaze now focused on his friend. He recieved no response for a few seconds, the man was looking intensely through his window. A price tag he just ripped off the glasses was thrown at Suguru, trying to get him off his mind. He scoffed, but replied anyways.

"Sure, they suit you."

His tone wasn't teasing as he expected it to be. It held no emotion, as if his mind was somewhere else. And Satoru knew his best friend too well, so he scooped closer to him even if you protested about the fact that he didn't put his belt on. Then he talked, whispering in order for you not to hear them.

"You good, man?"

Suguru blinked, as if he didn't notice when he got suddenly closer and changed seats. However, he was soon looking at his bestfriend's eyes debating whether to tell him or not.

"I saw him today."

He finally managed to breathe out. There was no need to specify who, since he knew satoru would easily catch up on who he was refering to.

"You mean him, as in him?"

Just as expected.

"Yes."

Suguru expected some shock from him, but Satoru sighed in relief getting confortable in his seat as his body relaxed now that he knew what this was all about.

"Phew, you had me worried over there for a sec. We taught him a lesson last time, what got you all worried now—"

Suguru didn't even let him finish before adding an important factor.

"He was with Y/N."

Oh, that made more sense.

Satoru's breath hitched and he swore his seat never felt more uncomfortable than right now.

This couldn't be happening.

Not so soon at least.

Silence filled the room, a tense atmosphere filling the car's air.

"All good behind boys? You're awfully quiet."

You asked noticing the silence, you weren't dumb enough to ignore it. It was very unlikely to happen, and it always did happen when the two of them were up to something not good. You knew them too well, after all.

"Not at all! How long is it until we get home?"

Satoru asked. You smiled when you heard his voice again, excited as ever. Yeah, they were planning some kind of prank for sure. It had to be, so you better be prepared for when you get home!

It was okay, you knew every hiding spot they had at home in case they decided to call this a prank day. You knew everything about your pets after all.

But maybe you just didn't really know them as much as you claimed to do.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 🌷

—𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘: kind of short chapter, idk?? Next one we'll have our boy choso <33 btw, thanks for all the support lately! Love ya 💕

—𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

@kingshitonly @snake-lover-artist-blog @ashers-playpen @pizza-market @channies-bbg-room @pdacex @spindyl @foliea @queen-luna-007 @labelt-san @shiggys-chapstick

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chemicalarospec · 2 days

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one thing I've noticed so far about Merlin is that everyone in this show is attracted to each other? Epic bisexual polycule potential.

#yes i rephrased the whole post because i didn't like it. almost added in an XD but i don't think it would read clearly as ironic lol #OK TBC ALL THE YOUNG PEOPLE.#merlin bbc #merlin #bbc merlin #gwen #uh idk her full name but she's at the center of everything #morgana pendragon #bested only by clueless in my viewings but i think i've seen someone make this comment about anotehr show in the past #after i watched Clueless i was going to make a chart of the polycule bc there was A Lot going on but i never did #my joke was that my mom and i finished the movie with very different impressions #I said this

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hughes86-43 · 15 hours

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prompt - “If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle”

note- idk what this is, I kinda just started writing it out.

warnings - none? some grammar mistakes.

For several years now, it has been known that you and Jack did not get along. Honestly, you’re not really sure when it all started that you two just did not like each other. You just know that both of you haven’t let up with the comebacks you both throw toward each other, and people and friends know how aggressive you both get towards each other, nothing bad but it can get heated. Despite how good of a friend you are to Luke, you just cannot get past arguing with Jack, and he wastes no time doing the same to you.

Summer was right around the corner, and to celebrate the end of the hockey season and to bring everyone together, it was decided that a vacation was the best option for everybody. You were excited as you haven’t seen everyone in forever, but that would mean that you would have to see Jack, and he was the last person you wanted to be around.

Everyone decided that the perfect vacation spot was to a beach house in Tampa, Florida. Quinn, Trevor, Luke, Jack, Cole, Alex, and some other girls and guys that are friends of them arrived earlier than you. Once you made it, Luke picked you up from the airport. After hugging you he wasted no time to tell you to be on your best behavior around Jack. Throwing an arm around your shoulder, Luke says, “Now I know how you and Jack can get around each other, and me and the others are just begging that you keep the arguing on the down low.”

Smirking at him, you say, “And did you tell this to Jack as well? It’s as much him, as it is me, ya know?”

Luke throws his head back laughing, because he expected you to say something like that. “Yes, we all told Jack the same thing. Now let’s go, everybody has been waiting on you!”

Finally arriving to the beach house, Luke grabbed your bags and helped you inside. As soon as you were inside, everyone came and welcomed you as they were so excited to finally see you. However, that happiness died a bit for you when you saw Jack.

After hugging Cole last, you see Jack out of the corner of your eye leaning against the wall. He speaks up when he notices you looking at him, “Glad to see someone finally made it, ya know this whole thing started hours ago?”

As soon as he started speaking, you wanted to pull his hair out, one by one. However, Luke told you to behave so you would do just that. Repeating in your head, be nice be nice be nice.

Breathing out, you say with the biggest smile, “Glad to see you too, you ass.” Technically, you were still being nice, you smiled and greeted him. Everyone just stood there glancing between the both of you, waiting to see if this exchange would turn into a full on battle.

“Nice to see you haven’t changed, now have you heard the news?” Jack says with a smirk.

Giving him a glare, you ask, “What news? Oh my gosh, are you leaving?!”

“No,” Jack replies with a glare, “Since Lukey here didn’t tell you, I guess I will, we are going to have to share a room.”

As soon as he said it, you start busting out laughing, “You’re joking, aren’t you? You and me share a room? That’s crazy!” You look around to everyone but nobody is laughing along, mostly just taking in this whole scene.

Slowly Luke and Quinn move forward, wincing Luke says, “It’s not a joke, you two are going to have to share a room. I should’ve said that, but we’re down on rooms compared to people, and Jack drew your name in the “roommate” draw for this weekend.”

Quinn reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder, “Sorry, my advice is just to not kill him, but I know he can be a bit too much sometimes.”

“Hey!” You hear Jack yell out.

Speaking up, “Okay, it’s okay! It will be fine! I won’t kill him, as long as he doesn’t do anything that would require me to do so.”

Jack walks forward toward you, “Well don’t make it difficult, and I won’t do anything!”

“Me make it difficult? Have you met you? You make everything difficult!” You point a finger into his chest.

Quinn quickly goes between the two of you before this argument gets blown out of proportion. “Okay! That’s enough, you two can argue all night long! For right now, it’s late and tomorrow is a big day of adventures, now go to bed!”

Feeling like you were scolded by your dad, you follow through with what he said. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s head to bed,” you grab your suitcase, turning back to Jack, “Cmon roomie! Let’s go check out our room!”

Jack grumbles, but leads the way to your shared room.

Faintly behind you down the hall, Quinn says to the others, “You think they know there is only one bed in there?” The others just laugh. Five seconds later, they soon figured out the answer, and then start making there way to their rooms so they can’t deal with the aftermath.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” You yell.

“One bed! You’re joking!” Jack yells.

“You!,” you turn towards Jack, “you did this, didn’t you! You knew there was only one bed, so I could get the floor!”

Jack spins around, “Me? I had no idea there would only be one bed! I just drew the stick!”

Sighing, you bring your hand to your throbbing head. You walk towards the bed and sit down, trying to think this through. “Okay, I’ll be the bigger person, I’ll sleep on the floor and you can take the bed.”

Jack immediately shakes his head, “No, you can get the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Jack, you were here first, you can get the bed. It’s just a couple nights, I can sleep on the floor.” To prove your point, you grab your pillow and blanket and make a spot on the floor. Once the spot is laid out, you lay down and act all bundled up, despite the fact it’s the floor and it’s hard as a rock.

You close your eyes, but you immediately hear Jack laughing. Opening one eye, you glare at him. “What? I’m trying to sleep?”

“Y/N, take the damn bed, we both know the floor isn’t comfortable.” He extends his hand towards you to help you up. You think for a few moments on the idea, and then take his hand.

Once you’re up, you put your pillow and blanket back on the bed. You can feel Jack staring at you behind you. You know you’ll regret the words that are going to come out of your mouth but you say them anyway. “You know, we would just both sleep in the bed?”

“And share the same bed as you?” Jack says, but he immediately regrets it. “Wait, I didn’t mean it so badly.”

“Wow, if you’re going to be all rude again, just go sleep in the bathtub,” you sigh.

Thinking about it, the bed is not really that big so it would mean you both would be super close to each other. However, you didn’t want to sleep on the floor and he didn’t want to sleep on the floor, so it made since to share the bed.

“Ugh, fine, we can share the bed,” Jack says, immediately bringing his pillow to the other side of the bed. “Just don’t steal my covers!”

“Mhmm,” you agree.

Going back over to your suitcase, you pull out some pajamas. “I’m going to change real quick, I’ll be back.” You thought you would be sleeping in a room by yourself, so you brought your tiny shorts and tiny tank top to wear, and now you’re regretting that decision. Making your way to the hall bathroom, you notice someone is already in there, sighing you turn back around to go back to the bedroom.

“Welp, someone is in there, so I’m just going to change in here, you don’t have to leave, but do you care to just turn around?” You ask Jack, as he is laying down scrolling through his phone.

He nods and flips over onto his side that isn’t facing you. You hurry and change into your pajamas. Clearing your throat, you say, “Okay, you can look now.”

Jack flips back around, and immediately notices your tiny pajamas and takes in the sight. He notices how much bare skin is showing between the bottom and top of the tank top and shorts. Swallowing, he says, “Cute pajamas.”

Turning around from grabbing your charger, you look at him. “Thanks, I guess,” you reply, “Um, I thought I would be in a room by myself, so I didn’t think these pajamas would matter that much but I’m not by myself.” You shiver under the intense glare that he is giving you.

“Nah, they’re cute. Now, I’m tired, let’s head to bed,” he says from his spot still laying on the bed.

You grudgingly make your way to the bed and plug your phone up before getting under the covers. You slowly realize this bed isn’t big enough for the two of you. You’re practically smushed into his side, and he has a leg already over yours. Not knowing where to put your arm, you just decide to awkwardly put it above your head.

You’re still moving around ten minutes after Jack turned off the lights. Sighing, he flips over to look at you. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get comfortable, what are you doing?” You say back to him.

“I’m trying to sleep is what I’m doing, but I can’t when someone keeps moving!”

“Well, I can’t help it when this bed was only made for one person!” You throw your hands up, frustrated once again by this situation.

“If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle, ya know?” You hear him say next to you.

Slowly moving your head, you glare at him again. “Cuddle, with you? I’d rather just sleep uncomfortable.”

He just gives you a smirk back before saying, “You know what, we’re going to cuddle. Because I know if you don’t get good enough sleep, you’re going to be in an even more grouchy mood tomorrow! So come here!”

You just stay right in your spot, not moving. That is until you feel arms move around you. “What are you doing!”

“We’re going to have to cuddle to fit, I just said that so that is what I’m doing!” He moves you closer to him so that your head is on his chest and his arm is wrapped around your shoulder. He has one leg over yours.

Not wanting to admit it, but he is right that this was the better option. You slowly relax into his embrace.

He must’ve noticed, because you can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “See, I told you it was the better option.”

“Yeah, yeah, go to sleep,” you say with a small laugh.

The next morning, you wake up still in his embrace. He has the softest look on his face while his hand is covering your arm and leg stilled wrapped around you. For some reason, you realize that there is not any where else you would rather be, and you’re finding comfort from the one guy that has been anything but to you. So you just continue laying there in his arms until the alarm goes off with the biggest smile on your face.

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #nhlhockey fic #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey fics

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bloodyshadow1 · 5 hours

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I get people being sympathetic to the Rat grinders, I really do, but the way people will out right lie about canon to make the Bad Kids the villains. The Rat Grinders are kids, they're being groomed by charismatic and dangerous teachers who they trusted, they're corrupted by rage so they're not thinking straight. At the end of the day, that makes them cultists, pitiable and sympathetic, but still villains who are perfectly willing to create a hell on earth for the plan.

I've seen posts condemning the bad kids for killing the rat grinders, I've seen posts calling the Bad Kids bullies this season, I've seen posts that blame the Bad Kids for the whole thing saying the rat grinders are just kids who are being tricked. It's all bullshit, whatever your headcanons, whatever your feelings on the Rat Grinders, they're not the good guys here and are very much the villains this season.

The bad kids killed the 3 of the rat grinders this fight, Ivy, Oisin, and Ruben. No, they didn't stop to try and reach out to them, to try and make them see the light. The Rat Grinders are trying to condemn a whole town to become the domain of a the new god of rage and murder a goddess to usurp her domain. They are high level with the capacity to cast 9th level spells regardless of their hp, with two epic level pc's with super abilities that normal class features don't cover. If the Bad Kids hesitated they would be dead, they knew that, the Rat grinders tried to murder them little over an hour ago. They've hated the bad kids for years and now decided to make their vendetta known, they fucked around and found out.

Which leads me to my second point, the Bad Kids are not bullying the Rat grinders. They're not pleasant to the rat grinders, but you don't have to be nice to the people who hate you. Other than Fig, who I will admit was messed up with how she treated Ruben this year, but also the Rat Grinders did something similar, they were just bad at it, the Bad Kids mostly ignored the Rat grinders. The worst thing the other bad Kids do to the Rat Grinders is make fun of Kipperlily's name, that's it. They don't even do it in front of other students, unless they legitimately forget her name, other than that it's only in front of each other or not other students like Alewyn or Jawbone. It's not great, but that is literally all they have done.

The Rat grinders however, have done all they could to make themselves enemies of the Bad Kids. Ivy was a mean racist bitch who helped steal the cloudrider engine and place pingpong balls all over seacaster manor for the plan. Ruben tried to get the bad kids to take drugs knowing it would get them in trouble. He intentionally had frosty fair held at Gorgug's home to corrupt it, putting not only Gorgug's family in danger but countless other people. Sure Jace had a hand in that, but at best Ruben was an accomplice. Buddy was a smug creep who vandalized Kristen's locker, threatened her brother, and demeaned her and her goddess, without being corrupted by rage. Mary Ann legitimately didn't do anything wrong this season she was just there and did her best on the field as she was supposed to (not even saying this as a joke, she has literally done nothing bad on screen so it's hard to judge her like the rest). But Oisin tried to honey pot Adaine the first week of school, stole the cloudrider engine and the pingpong ball trap, and sent a whole pack of dragons on them to murder them and hundreds of other kids. Kipperlily has been goading the bad kids since the first day of school, she has tried every dirty trick to try and win. She has murdered people, not even people affiliated with the bad kids, but people like Buddy who was on her side, she's tried to murder the bad kids or at least make sure it's harder for them to come back to life if they die, she's stolen from them, she's tried to kill them, she's done everything bad the fans have accused the bad kids of but worse.

And that's just the Rat Grinder's individually. Why are the Bad Kids monsters for killing dangerous people who have tried to kill them, but the Rat Grinders aren't? The Rat Grinders literally tried to commit mass murder of their school a little more than an hour. 500 students of the Aguefort adventuring academy were in Seacaster manor when it was brought into the sky and beset by dragons. 500 innocent bystanders, almost all children, half of them younger than both parties.

I'll get to the rage stars in another post, but I just want to finish this off with, the Rat Grinders are kids, kids who are being groomed by evil men and corrupted by magic. But the Bad Kids are just kids too. They're kids who have been specifically targeted by the rat grinders. The rat grinders started this feud, the Bad Kids retaliated and were better at it. If you're going to take a shot at the king you better not miss, and the rat grinders have been missing their shots this whole season. I don't get why people are blaming the bad kids for trying to save the world but it pisses me off. I apologize for the rant but the tag is for everyone

#fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #the rat grinders #the bad kids #riz gukgak #fig faeth #kristen applebees #gorgug thistlespring #fabian seacaster #adaine abernant #long post #fantasy high meta #d20 #d20 spoilers

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knavesflames · 1 day

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Hey knavesflames. New follower here.

Hope you are having a great day.

This is my first time ever requesting a writing and I know you could cook up a wonderful piece with it.

So basically got this idea after listening to Mitski's Washing Machine Heart (yes my life is mitski coded). So anyways, the prompt goes like how Arlecchino views the reader as a replacement for the Clervie, something along those lines (and the lyrics of the above mentioned song). All three of them were also living together in the House of Hearth during the reign of the previous Knave (I forgot her name) who Arlecchino defeated.

(I don't know if anyone else have come up with this idea).

Would love to see an angst filled story with this.

Thank you!!!!!

P.S - love your writings💙

Hello! My day is fine thank you:) the fact you trust me to cook here made me smile very much, I hope I cooked enough. Thank you for liking my stuff!!

Contents: angst, non graphic moment of sex that just turns sad as hell, arlecchino sharpen urself up

Word count: 2873

Fic under the cut:D

She was different from you and Clervie. You and Clervie were very similar, most of the kids called you twins. Happy, cheerful, protective, always talking to the other children. Peruere was not like that. She was reserved, almost cold-blooded, quiet. It quickly became obvious she cared about you both when she would quietly invite you to watch her spider do something, or when she would catch three fish instead of one, because you and Clervie were simply too loud for one to stay still. You were a trio, one the entire House of the Hearth knew, and ‘Mother’ knew. She let you all be friends, for now. But it didn’t mean she stopped punishing Clervie. If anything, she was punished more. Often coming back to your room (where you all mostly sat, because your room was the biggest) with shaky hands and a tight lipped smile after having a photo frame thrown at her, or a red face where ‘Mother’ had slapped her. Or, as she got older, even worse, when she would come back with cuts and scrapes that you and Peruere would bandage for her silently. You learned that making the bandages look pretty cheered her up, despite her always having an outward smile. And when she opened the window that night, promising that you’d all go to Snezhnaya and see the dancing lights in the sky, something in Peruere changed that day.

She became more protective, more cautious of things.. when Clervie was involved. As you entered your teenage years, you would often come back to your room, devoid of people, only to hear two people giggling in the next one. You were still a trio, you always had been and always will be. But growing up means indulging in feelings, and they seemed to have more feelings for each other than for you. They were not cruel, no. They did not mean for it to be this way. They invited you out on walks and you caught fish together like usual, but it just felt.. different. The small jokes they made, clearly private jokes you didn’t and wouldn’t understand did not go unnoticed. Neither did the small pit of loneliness that began growing inside of you. You were jealous, yes. Your two best (and only) friends seemed to like each other more than they liked you, if only in a romantic sense, and they let it cloud them when they were with you too. A bitter person, you are not, so you endured it. You still loved and cared for both of them (especially Peruere, but you refused to let Clervie feel the way you felt then) and wanted the best for them, you just wished that for a second, things could go back to the way they were.

But they didn’t. Especially not when you and Peruere stood frozen over Clervie’s fallen body, both of you trembling and breathing fitfully. ‘Mother’’s fight to be king has finally infiltrated your friendship, and Clervie was the one to fall. With Peruere holding the blade, you were convinced you’re next, with your eyes widened and filled with unshed tears (though, the past couple of years, all of your tears have been unshed).

“Peruere, please don’t.”

“I’m going to murder her.”

“..who?”

“Mother.”

“Moth-..”

Your voice trails off as it shakes, your ears thoroughly listening to Peruere’s admittance of her plan, of the future matricide she did in fact go on to commit. You were the one to bury Clervie and place lumidouce bells around her body, closing her eyes and placing the small teddies you three had of each other next to her. Arlecchino was the one who avenged her, brutally murdering her before quickly being imprisoned.

Eventually, after taking Crucabena’s place as the Knave, after becoming ‘Father’, changing her name to Arlecchino, you both began dating. A drunken night turned into dating and living together. Perhaps it was grief stricken, perhaps she really did feel that type of affection for you, the way you have for her for so long. The way you have silently yearned for her has not gone unnoticed by the people around you. What is also noticed, what has been noticed since the day you met Clervie, is your similarities. You both are very similar, you always have been. Kind, cheerful, you both even say the same things, enjoy the same foods. Most used to joke that you were secretly twins, you and Arlecchino know that, but the joke came to an end when Clervie met hers. It was never spoken of again, and neither was she. Barely, anyway. Years went past, and it seemed both of you were happy in the relationship you both had carved from tragedy. Though, you ignored the niggling feeling in your chest when Arlecchino would come home and surprise you with a bouquet of flowers. It wasn’t the fact you received flowers, no, that made your heart warm. It was about which flowers and what she said along with it.

“I saw some lumidouce bells as I walked home. Here, dear, your favourite.”

The phrase alone is all good and well, but.. they are not your favourite flowers. They never have been. You have always preferred lakelight lilies, and she should have known that after over a decade knowing you. Lumidouce bells were the favourite of Clervie, not you. The strange feeling in your chest swells with every new bouquet you receive, until receiving flowers is no longer a pleasant thing. The feeling is pushed back again and again, until she comes home one evening, the keys jingling against the door. The familiar sound of the paper around the bouquet is audible again, and you feel your stomach sink slightly when you see the familiar lumidouce bells.

“Look what the florist had today, dear.”

“So they did. Thank you, love.”

You take them with a small lump in your throat and a tight smile, delicately placing them in water and giving one a small pat, a habit you picked up many years ago as a nod to your best friend. Your mind wanders, though, and eventually, you bite the bullet and ask.

“Did they have any lakelight lilies?”

“They always do. Why?”

You wonder why she doesn’t buy those instead.

“No, no reason. They’re pretty, don’t you think?”

You are not talking about the flowers when you ask this, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling softly. She glances up with the faintest smile of her own before continuing to undo her heels, the heels you know she has killed many with.

“Not as pretty as lumidouce bells, in my opinion.”

You have to turn swiftly to hide the twist of your expression, the hurt that flashes over it as you grit your teeth together so hard they should have turned to dust already. You manage out an “alright” before beelining towards the kitchen to make dinner. You don’t even know if she knew you were not asking about the appearance of the flowers, if she understood you were asking about your own, to try to find some affirmation in the sea of self loathing. It stung nonetheless, but you realise you cannot be angry if you didn’t say it outright. Still, the thought lingers, eating away at you as you zone out, letting your hands chop the carrot too finely before shaking yourself out of it. You can’t stay upset for long though, when her hands snake around you and she praises you for your food making skills, murmuring that it smells good. So, the thought is forgotten, left behind for a night of overthinking that will inevitably come. For now, though, for tonight, you enjoy dinner. Steak tartare, (you scrapped the carrot), laughing lightly when she draws an ‘x’ over it with sauce to match her eyes. The rest of the evening goes the way all of your evenings go. Contentedly, quietly. She agreed long ago to not bring Fatui doings into the home. You grew up with that and you don’t want to deal with that again, which she respects, so, you don’t speak about work, a relief for both you and her. You watch a movie, a boring movie neither of you really like, that leads to channelling the inner teenager and making out on the sofa. You can’t hide the giggle that escapes you when she lifts you up, carrying you and placing you on the bed before proceeding to undress you. Before long, you’re naked, moaning her name softly in pleasure, both names of hers. ‘Peruere’ is reserved only for this, only for moments of intimacy or when you’re alone. In return, she loves to whisper sweet nothings against the shell of your ear, enjoying the way your body squirms against her.

“It’s good. Please keep going.”

“Good girl. You’re so pretty, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, Clervie.”

Oh.. oh. You freeze. She doesn’t. Despite her movements still continuing, the pleasure is gone as quickly as it came and your ears begin to ring as you pale. A shaky hand comes to her chest, pushing her away as you shake your head, swallowing hard.

“Stop. Stop it. I don’t want—“

She stops immediately, a concerned look on her face. Her hand moves to comfort you, to ask what’s wrong but your own hand slaps hers away gently.

“What…? What happened?”

The way you sit up, your once pink cheeks now pale, your eyes wide and your breathing shallow concerns her. When you don’t speak, she stays silent, staring at you as your mouth opens and closes. You know you heard her right, it was clearer than the sky in Fontaine during June. The worst part is that she doesn’t even realise she’s done it. Your stomach is twisting, your chest aching harder than it has in years as you finally manage to speak.

“You called me by her name.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

When you think about everything in hindsight, the way she (accidental or not is still hard to tell) indirectly said you weren’t pretty earlier with the flowers, and now, during sex of all things, told you that you were the prettiest girl she had ever seen, only to call you by someone else’s name makes you realise it wasn’t you she was talking to at all. She wasn’t calling you pretty, she was calling Clervie pretty. And she wasn't thinking about you at all. Suddenly, the fact you’re naked becomes all too apparent and your hands clutch at the various blankets, covering yourself out of insecurity. A wave of nausea fills you for a second before you speak again.

“I’m not her. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“I was naked underneath you and you were not even thinking of me.”

“I was, I..”

How many times has she thought about Clervie while having sex with you? How many times has she wished it was Clervie underneath her instead? Your brain begins a whirlwind of thoughts, barely giving each one time to form before another one comes. Then, the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, your shaky, quiet voice echoing the room and cutting through the awkward tension.

“Do you wish it was me that died instead of her? Do you even know me at all?”

“Of course I know you.”

She didn’t answer the first question, it dawns on you. It hurts too much to bring it up again, not when you know how her avoidance of the question is an affirmative.

“What is my favourite flower, Peruere?”

Her true name comes out of your mouth in what seems to be an attempt at a sneer, but ends up as a sad whisper, your voice quivering with the force of your contained tears. Arlecchino’s own voice is quiet, softer than it usually is.

“Lumidouce bells.”

“No.”

“You loved them as a child, you had a necklace—“

“No, Clervie had a necklace. I like lakelight lilies.”

Arlecchino’s own face pales slightly at the memory of your earlier question. The way your face looked at her with your crooked smile that held that slight tinge of hope, only for you to immediately turn (not before your face fell, she noticed that, but didn’t understand) and walk away. She goes to speak, but you cut her off, a tearful, small voice that’s so unlike you.

“When is my birthday?”

“April 23rd.”

“That is Clervie’s birthday. My birthday is in December.”

“But—“

“You don’t think I’m pretty. You think she is pretty. You have not moved on, you still love her. You— you do not love me and you do not know me at all.”

The silence that follows confirms everything, and a choked sob fills the air at the newfound knowledge. You let your head fall to your knees, quiet sobs wracking your frame as Arlecchino sits beside you, a hand hovering over your back.

“My dear.”

“Do not call me such a thing, Peruere. Not when it is not me you wish to be saying it to. Say my name. Say my name, and tell me you love me and mean it.”

“You must take a breath.”

She does not say it and your heart shatters.

“You do not say it because you can’t. You did not ever love me, you loved her. I am the closest thing you can get to her, so you settled for me and you live your life pretending I am her. What is it, exactly, about me that isn’t good enough compared to her? Why not me?”

“I don’t know. You are wonderful.”

“Yet I am not enough.”

“You are.”

“Not to you.”

The utter heartbreak and anguish in your voice rips through Arlecchino’s body. Not many things get to her like this but her best friend lover crying like this, the insecurity and shame radiating off of her body is heartbreaking to her and she feels the guilt rise in her stomach. You have your head buried into the blankets as your body wracks with soft cries. Being stabbed would hurt less than this, you think. Hurt less than being used to live in a fantasy where Clervie didn’t die.

“Should I go for a walk?”

“Yes, go.”

How enthusiastic your response was, she wonders. Though, she knows what she has done even without meaning to do it. She stands up, clothing herself silently before slipping out of the room. You hear her feet padding down the hall, and eventually her leaving the house and her softly muttering to herself as she passes the window. You want to hate her, you want to punch her and throw all of the flowers out of the window. At the same time, you can’t even bring yourself to think of looking in the mirror and seeing the face your girlfriend does not find pretty. Nor can you bring yourself to walk to your living room and find a picture of the face your girlfriend does find pretty. All you can bring yourself to do is dress yourself in the first clothes you can find before letting yourself fall back into bed, sniffling with a look of misery on your face. You wonder when she’s coming back. You wonder if she’s coming back at all. You wonder if you care. You do, but you wish you didn’t. You wish you didn’t love her the way she loves Clervie. Or, rather, you wish she loved you the way she loves Clervie.

#arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #genshin impact #arlechinno genshin #arlechinno x reader #arle #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact fic #Arle fic #arlecchino fic #arlecchino angst #genshin impact arlecchino #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact x reader

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rosetterer · 2 days

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How about Buck taking care of a sick or injured Tommy? 🥹

Hi anon! I didn't edit or even read through what I wrote so I hope it makes some kind of sense, lol. Also, apparently, my thought of a short little story is almost 2000 words so... here you go:

The last time Buck was at the hospital had for once been for a good reason: his sister’s wedding. The memory of getting to kiss Tommy in front of strangers without a care in the world was a good addition to the day that Buck definitely thought about every once in a while. Well, actually, Tommy, in one way or another, was constantly on his mind these days.

He just wished that he could’ve kept thinking about their dates that had happened, some better than others, and the ones that were to happen in the future. Instead, his mind was filled with worry, and yet, still Tommy.

He knew, better than anyone, that being the partner of a firefighter could be stressful. Not everyone could handle it.

And now, as he was rushing around the hallways, trying to find the room number he’d been told over the phone, he understood. He wasn’t sure if he could handle this.

”Wait, wait, wait,” a nurse, much shorter than him, stepped in between him and the door that Tommy was supposed to be behind.

”My boyfriend’s in there!” He huffed out, a little more loud and aggressive than he meant to sound.

”Are you Evan?” The nurse asked then, her voice softening.

”Yeah,” he breathed out.

”Well, go on in then. He’s been talking a lot about you,” the nurse said, now smiling, and opened the door for him.

They hadn’t told him details of what had happened but the words ’Tommy’, ’injured’ and ’hospital’ had made him panic and leave his shift early. But Tommy, apparently, was talking and as Buck stepped into the room, he could see that he was also sitting there, chatting with another nurse, and most importantly, he was still breathing.

”Tommy,” Buck gasped out his name and hurried to stand next to his bed.

His hands hovered over Tommy’s shoulders, his chest, and he didn’t know where he could touch him without hurting him. The nurse was placing some kind of bandage on his leg and there were bloodied tissues thrown off to the side.

”What happened? D- Did the helicopter go down?” Buck asked, hearing and feeling the way his voice trembled. ”Or we-were you on the ground? Did you-”

”Evan,” Tommy interrupted him, taking his hands into his. ”I’m okay.”

”You’re in a hospital,” Buck reminded him. ”Do you have a concussion? Do you-”

”Tell him that I’m alright, please,” Tommy asked the nurse, his voice a little raspy now that Buck really focused on it. There was some soot on his face.

”No concussion,” the nurse told him, standing up straight now that the bandage was on. ”But twelve stitches is no joke.”

”Twelve?” Buck asked, genuinely shocked. ”How-”

”Baby,” Tommy interrupted him once again. ”I promise I will tell you all about it once I’ve gotten some rest, alright? I’m exhausted.”

Right. He’d been on a 24-hour shift.

Buck tried his best to pull himself together and cleared his throat, ”Right. Right… Well, can we leave? You’re coming to stay at my place.”

”Evan, you don’t have to-”

”Actually, I’m coming over to your place. The loft has stairs and I doubt it’ll be easy for you to climb them with your leg like that,” Buck wondered out loud, completely ignoring Tommy’s reply to him. ”I don’t have a shift tomorrow and I doubt you’ll be going back to work for at least a few days or until those stitches come off, so-”

”Evan, I’m fine,” Tommy told him once more. ”You don’t have to worry about me.”

”I’ll go get your discharge papers,” the nurse commented quickly before Buck could reply and slipped out of the room.

”You are not fine,” Buck huffed out, sitting on the edge of the bed. ”And you don’t need to pretend like you are, babe. Injuries suck. I would know.”

”Yeah,” Tommy said with a dry chuckle. ”But I swear, it doesn’t hurt much and they told me that I’m allowed to walk normally as long as I’m careful, so I can take care of myself, you don’t have to-”

”I want to,” Buck whispered to him, finally daring to touch Tommy’s shoulder. ”I want to take care of you. I want to come home with you and I want to make sure you have everything you need. You scared me.”

That seemed to finally make Tommy speechless. He looked at Buck for a while and Buck desperately wanted to ask him what he was thinking about but decided to wait instead.

”Okay,” Tommy said eventually.

”Okay,” Buck sighed, relieved.

”I didn’t mean to scare you,” Tommy continued then, resting their foreheads together.

Buck shook his head, ”Not your fault. This is what our job is like. As long as you just keep being as careful as possible, I’ll… I’ll be able to handle it.”

”Right back at you,” Tommy said with a small smile.

Buck pressed their lips together for a short moment.

Tommy was lying on his couch with his leg propped up by pillows that Buck had gathered from around the house. Buck had made a quick meal of the ingredients he’d found in Tommy’s fridge, which often was chicken and vegetables, and that was no different today.

And now, he was just staring.

Tommy had been napping on and off for the past three hours they had been at home. Buck kept his distance, not wanting to disturb his sleep any more than it seemed to be disturbed by his dreams already.

And it was only when he woke up with a gasp more violent than before, Buck finally rushed over to his side. He ran his hands through the curls that had appeared after the very interesting shower session they’d had (nothing sexy, just difficult because of his leg injury) and hushed him.

”It’s okay, you’re at home,” he whispered to Tommy, who was now blinking up at him. ”I’m here.”

Tommy took hold of his free hand, squeezing it so tightly that it almost hurt. He licked his dry lips and swallowed, before resting his head back against his pillow, taking in a deep breath.

”Christ,” he mumbled under his breath.

Buck kept gently scratching his scalp with the tips of his fingers, ”You’re okay, it was just a nightmare. I’m here.”

”Thank God for that,” Tommy whispered to him, somehow holding onto his hand even tighter.

”What did you dream about?” Buck asked once Tommy’s breathing seemed to be under control.

”Today,” Tommy replied, shaking his head a little. ”The call we got was horrible.”

”I’m sorry,” Buck whispered, dropping his hand to Tommy’s neck and rubbing the warm skin there.

”We were called to assist because we were nearby, even though they didn’t air support,” Tommy explained to him. ”Some kid had set the school on fire and with the way the building looked, I doubt it was up to any kind of code. It was like a piece of paper, just burning away.”

Buck nodded, listening.

”There was a spot where the fire was at its worst. Obviously, we started from there,” Tommy continued. ”We went in. There were a lot of kids still stuck inside and we just… We had to get them out. The hallways were confusing… The fire seemed to be everywhere. And the screaming…”

Buck sighed, now gripping Tommy’s hand back, just as tightly.

”The floor gave in, me and two other firefighters went down with it. None of the kids did, thank God,” he said. ”The next thing I remember is being carried out of the building. I don’t think I even hit my head that hard, I mean, I don’t even have a concussion, but… I don’t know if it was just the shock that made me black out for a moment.”

”And what happened to your leg?” Buck asked softly.

”I’m not sure…” Tommy replied. ”Something sharp must have sliced it on the way down. I don’t remember being in pain. Not until I was in the ambulance anyway…”

Buck nodded, ”I was so scared when they called me.”

”I’m sor-”

”No,” Buck stopped him immediately, placing a finger against Tommy’s lips, ”I don’t want you to apologize for getting hurt. I want to know when these things happen and I want you to tell me about them because… I know what it’s like to suffer through these things alone. To keep those thoughts inside your head. I don’t want that for you. You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

The smallest of smiles spread on Tommy’s lips. He tilted his head a little.

”Noted,” he said, bringing his hand to rest against Buck’s cheek. ”Thank you, baby.”

Buck kissed his palm.

”Do you often get nightmares after something like this happens?”

”Not really, no,” Tommy told him, sounding genuine. ”In my nightmare, you were there. Don’t get me wrong, the whole call was horrible, especially because kids were involved but… In my nightmare, you were there and went down as well and I couldn’t find you-”

He paused to take in another deep breath.

”Hey,” Buck whispered, leaning closer. ”I’m right here.”

”I know,” Tommy said, now looking at him intensely, the way that he often did when he wanted to make sure Buck was truly hearing him. ”The thought of losing you… Terrifies me, Evan. When I met you for the first time, I- I thought you were cute but I couldn’t have realized how much you’d end up meaning to me.”

”You mean a lot to me too,” Buck told him. ”And the thought of losing you terrifies me as well but I guess that’s- that’s the price that we’re going to have to pay for doing what we do and being together. I’m willing to live with that. Are you?”

Tommy nodded, ”Of course, Evan. Of course.”

”Good,” Buck said with a small smile, trying his best to ignore his eyes welling up just the smallest amount. ”Because you’re not getting rid of me. I am not going anywhere, Tommy, and even if the damn universe tries to take me away from you, I won’t let it.”

”That is… a lot,” Tommy chuckled gently.

”It’s the truth,” Buck whispered and pressed their lips together.

He allowed himself to linger, knowing that no one would interrupt them.

”Now rest up. I’ll heat up some food and when you’re feeling like it, we’re going grocery shopping. I know you’re all about working out and all that but I will not have my boyfriend only eating chicken and vegetables,” Buck rambled to him as he got up from his seat and started making his way toward the kitchen.

He turned to look back at him before stepping into the kitchen and found Tommy looking right back at him.

Buck smiled, ”I love you.”

And Tommy smiled right back. ”I love you too, Ev.”

They would be just fine.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fanfiction #prompt fill #rose answers #911 on abc

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webslingingslasher · 3 days

Note

i’m seated for some sneak peaks of things you have in the drafts hehe

here's a blurb for munch frat!peter:

'hand this card to the last person to eat pussy.'

tarrent has a gleam in his eye as he proudly pushes it into peter's chest. 'drink up, bro.'

you're not watching, the content of your cup is more interesting. but you're listening to see exactly how peter plays this one off because he hasn't even tried- let alone offered to go down on you.

peter hands the card back. 'nah, i don't do that.' he says it like it's a joke and his friends laugh with him, like he's too humble to accept the crown title of carpet muncher.

---

here's a blurb for hockey!peter fighting for his life over a jersey

'hey, can i have a kiss?' the audacity. you cross your arms again and look to the side, 'no.' peter frowns, you lean away when you feel his lips on your cheek.

'no? not even after i just won?'

'you didn't deserve it.' you grumble it from the side of your mouth, peter catches it and feels offended. 'don't get pouty and tell me i deserved to lose.'

you turn to him, your eyes screamed fire at him. 'don't humilate me and demand a kiss then.'

---

here's a blurb for cherry!peter who's doing the best he can to make cherry's sex dream come to life

'i've been so good, haven't i been so good for you?' peter can sense a little bit of a praise kink in you, it's fitting. 'you're always good for me. you're my good girl, aren't you?'

a whimper, it's so much better when it's real. 'i'm your good girl.' a harsh grind, you clutch peter's forearm while you throw your head back. 'yeah? that feels good?'

'call me your pretty baby.' peter doesn't know where the direction is coming from but he likes it. 'does my pretty baby feel good?' an audible moan, he's fucking perfect at this.

---

here's a blurb for bf!frat!peter with a girlfriend who should always come first

peter is totally saving you for last and you're about to go nuts on him. sure, there might be a line of people and sure, you might be the one in the least danger but you're owed some sort of urgency.

'hello?' you call it out, you sound impatient. 'spider-man?' you are impatient. you call for him again, he holds up a hand and you gasp. 'oh you little- spider-man, you better come help me right now or i swear to god i'll...' you have no real threat. 'just don't tempt me!'

peter doesn't come help you, he's still helping an older woman and you're about to throw yourself into a fire for some attention. 'excuse me? i'm looking for my boyfriend, have you seen him?'

---

here's a blurb from that blurb... you know... the one where peter has hooked up with trouble's friend?

if peter was a brat, he'd say that you're not supposed to be talking to him. instead, he extends his hand out and watches heavy footing beat up the staircase. the second his door slams, his best friend is asking what the fuck happened with his eyes.

'she's mad at me.' his door swings open, you shout down to him. 'i'm not mad! we're broken up!' another slam. ethan's expecting a lot more from peter than a shrug. 'no we're not.'

his door hits the wall, another scream, 'yes we are!' a third slam, this time, he's got two friends coming out of their rooms and glancing between his bedroom door and the lower level where peter had crossed arms.

'what's going-' peter flails his arms around, trying to stop the impending question and what he knows is all you need to give him a round two, but worse because now you're no longer in public.

a sheepish grin crosses over a brother's face when his door explodes open, peter thinks there might be a hole behind his door where the handle matches up perfectly.

---

here's a blurb where ethan walks in on sexy time :(

'liar! he saw me from behind!' you know he did, it was all on show. everything's ruined. peter's trying his best to be soothing. 'hey, even if he did, he won't say anything. it's ethan, you know ethan.'

you do. that's why it's so bad. the reminder makes you cry harder, peter connects the dots. 'oh jeez, trouble. here, come give me a hug.' it's a pathetic reach, you want nothing more than to be locked away in his hold, hidden and secret from the outside world.

'he-' you suck in air, curling in even closer to peter as if you weren't on his lap already. 'he saw me having sex.' you pull peter's arms tighter around you, it almost hurts it's so tight. it's what you need.

'i know, baby. i'm so sorry.' at least he's being honest.

'how much did he see?' peter doesn't know either, he was a little busy underneath you. he just knows the second he saw his door open, his instinct was to protect you.

'very little.' you feel kisses over your head, 'please stop crying.'

---

here's a blurb where nerdy!peter has no filter when he's drunk

'hi, honey.' you hold his arm tightly, 'don't lean over.' bending at the waist you reach for the keys, peter groans and shouts an exaggerated 'oh my god!'

you fly up, the metal tucked between your fingers. 'what?' you look around, peter's busy staring down your skirt while his teeth sink into his bottom lip. 'your ass is so nice.'

you suck in a deep breath and ignore the flush of warmth covering your chest. 'thank you, petey.' you ignore the slight shake in your hand when you shove the key in.

peter's door gets stuck a lot and you have to shove your shoulder into it a little. while you're doing your best to raid the door, a hand slides up the back of your thigh and gives you a tight squeeze. you jump and yelp, your hand reaching back to throw his off.

'peter!' he giggles and turns his head like you wouldn't be able to see him anymore. 'i just wanted to touch it a little.' peter's fingertips lightly drag up your thigh, you slap it away again. he giggles harder, the sound bubbles out of him.

'i'm trying to get us inside, leave my butt alone.' you have his promise, and you nudge the door a little, a sharp smack has you wipping around to face him. peter shoots his hands up, 'last one, i promise! that was the last one!'

#just a tease....#thanks anon!

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wolkoshka · 21 hours

Text

Paranormal II

summary: after your injury in the birthday party, Ghost takes you home, takes care of your wound - and finally gives you a night you’ll never forget… Simon Riley/Ghost x Reader

warnings: slow-burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, mutual pining, excessive drunk flirting, slightly dark!Simon, touch-starved Simon, trying to get into Simon’s pants (and sort of succeeding??), nsfw-themed

•this is a simon riley ficlet, I repeat, this is not a one-shot but contains a bit of plot and character development, bcs god knows we need 'em

•part 2/3

an: here is part ii, and yes, yes, I know! It’s long overdue. You’re gonna have to forgive a girlie and her lack of awareness to the passage of time.

"I said go get him, not split yer head open. Ooch, lassie, look at ye bruising up. That's an ugly one."

Johnny hassled over you, thumbing your temples as he examined your wound.

Ghost had temporarily dropped you at the bar to go hunting for a med kit. When your gaze had arrayed the room, your best friend had caught your eye, smirking - only to then gasp and push his way to you.

"So what happened?"

"Mating dance," you retorted dryly.

You pressed the glove back to the wound when Johnny released you, leaning against the counter in a snort.

"Did he fall for it?"

"Hardly." Your shoulders slumped defeatedly. "I don't think he likes me very much, Johnny."

"That's Lt for ye, lass. Guy wears a skull for a face. Says he sleeps soundly in it. Shudders, I tell ye. You'd think that'd make ye think twice before approaching him, eh?"

"I think my brain short-circuited precisely for those reasons. I think maybe this hit to the head will remedy that. God knows I need to get him out of my system. A full-on purge. Like those, uh, uh, really intense only-water-for-dinner kind of diets."

"It's hard to get someone ye don't know out of yer mind."

"Exactly! Jokes aside, this is insane even by drunk me standards. Never thought I'd have a crush at this age, but, whelp, here goes nothing! Will get him out of my mind as soon as I stop gawking at those muscles, okay?"

Your friend chuckled.

Over Soap's shoulder, you caught sight of Ghost's form paving way to you, broad shoulders squared, back straight and gait commanding. And yet, there was an almost endearing swagger to his stride, subtle as it was, and it only added to the unmistakable confidence simmering underneath that quiet outfit.

Suddenly, you were air-headed. In the manner people jumped out of his path like he was the most lethal being they'd ever beheld had you seeing rainbows and hearing angelic hymns.

A stupid girl with her big, stupid crush. When was the last time you got one, anyway? High school, that's when. And you felt like a silly schoolgirl again, all those eighth grade magazines on how to talk to boys and attract your crush flooding back.

You wondered what three-way advice they would spell out for someone like Ghost.

Bathe in the blood of his enemies. A sexy look can go a long way!

Rip out the heart of his enemy and gift it to him. All men enjoy a sincere show of affection every now and then!

Take a bullet for him. Take several! Nothing says I have the hots for you like bleeding out in the arms of your crush!

When his eyes found yours, uncompromising and intense even from such distance, the choir increased until you felt like your chest might implode.

"Never mind," you dreamily sighed. This particular crush wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"Johnny," Ghost voiced, coming around the man. To you, he crooked a finger. "They got band-aids, but I need to stitch you up. We'll resolve the matter in your place."

Your head perked. "We will?"

Was your night actually going to end with Ghost in your apartment? Maybe even bed?

You looked at Johnny, Johnny looked at you - and you both raised your eyebrows in a knowing look.

"What the bloody hell you two peepin' at each other for?" Ghost growled.

"Peepin'? What's peepin'?" Johnny.

"We're not peepin'." You.

Eager, you hopped down - and immediately regretted it when your vision swayed. Whoops... You clutched your head tighter.

"Easy there," Johnny voiced, hands supporting your shoulders.

Once you righted, you looked up at Ghost. Expectant. Would he carry you?

You kind of, sort of, definitely desired his arms around you again.

As if seeing right through your needs, the muscle below his eye twitched. He set a challenge with his gaze, forcing you to admit defeat and walk a soldier's walk.

You faintly winced. Shrugged. "Owh, my poor head. I feel...dizzy. So dizzy. Don't know...might even trip in the rain. Get a concussion..." Another meek yet daring shrug. "So inconvenient, no?"

"Maybe ye need to go the hospital, lass - Umpf!"

You shut Johnny up with a backward punch to the groin, attention never wavering from Ghost.

There was a soft inquisitive sound, an arch of your brow, before he conceded with a weary blink of his eyes. You had to love the way his lashes fanned every time he did that. Long, thick, and softly curled, they might just make a girl jealous.

Internally, you performed a victory dance. Externally, you outstretched an arm.

His killer biceps bulged around your frame, tugging you close, as he lifted you off your feet. When you corded your arm around his neck and nestled your face on his pec, lashes batting up at him, Ghost looked like he was near to dropping you on your arse and dragging you by your heels instead.

"Don't get used to it, poppy," he grated low.

You wore a look of mock-surprise. "Never."

Gaze too slow to leave your face he spoke to Johnny next, "I'll meet you at the base." He strode past, strong legs falling into pace. "Don't be late. And for fuck's sake, Johnny, get some rest."

Johnny grinned, the act slightly laced with pain due to your earlier assault. "Ye got it, Lt." To you, he gave you a proud thumb's up.

Over Ghost's shoulder, you blew him a kiss and mouthed happy birthday, and I love you big time, you sucker.

When the bar door closed behind you, you pointed out to Simon that he'd forgotten your umbrella and proton pack.

For the umbrella, he said the rain might help sober you up. As for your proton pack, he didn't even bother providing an answer as he took down the street, all pleased with himself as rain mercilessly pelted your face.

When lightning crackled and thunder roared overhead, you thought you felt his arms slightly draw you closer, a bit nearer, but dismissed it, blaming it instead on your active imagination and stupor.

What the bloody hell was he doing, Ghost questioned, standing in your open kitchen and preparing tea for two.

Steam curdled up, obscuring his masked face as he poured green tea into two cups. Clasping the handles, he turned from the counter to place them on the marbled island.

Your abode was a spacious loft with four large windows peering out into the bustling city, the London Eye and the River Thames a distant view, with a ceiling that rose six meters high.

Before him was a sitting area with a comfortable couch, plush armchairs and a TV stand. Fully-stacked bookshelves flanked either side while pots of myriad flowers and wild ferns decorated the space.

A dining table perched to his left, a family photo and Mesopotamian antiques lining the dark cherry wood surface in display. He spotted Johnny in the frame, younger than he's ever seen him, dimples deep in a cheery smile, and he spotted you, hanging onto his shoulders with an eye-crinkling laugh of your own, also young and exuding innocence.

To his far right was your bed, propped against the wall and neatly made, accompanied by nightstands and a reading lamp. To its left was the entrance, separated by a narrow wall of stained glass depicting two mermaids frolicking about. By that, he clearly meant the large cock sprouting from the merman's groin and gripped by the mermaid's slender fingers, their tails entwining as deeply as their tongues, their bodies writhing in unabashed pleasure. It was beautiful, no doubt, made to come alive in colors coral blue, golden, and violet, but Ghost also knew it was custom made.

Anyone would've missed the unorthodox tableau at first glance, but he wasn't anyone.

You had wild fantasies, it appeared, and he wanted to bash his skull in for taking interest in that.

Just like he wanted to bash the mug of green tea in his hand because he couldn't will his feet to walk away.

Granted, you'd asked he stay, at least for a little while, to thank him for taking care of your wound, and sprinting to your bathroom thereafter for a quick shower.

It's been ten minutes now, and Ghost should've been long gone. He couldn't be here. He didn't do one-night stands. He had a number for that, a special visitor, that took care of his needs without him ever needing to undress. Left just as wordlessly when the deed was done. No unnecessary pillow talks, goodbye notes, or call me laters. No strings attached, just as Ghost preferred it.

But you...

The way you wanted him, the way you watched him, eyes growing dark and heavy with desire, it made him realize he'd never been pursued that ardently. Sure, he had instances where he attracted certain women his direction - any bloke with a look like his warranted that - but a simple glower from him had them scurrying off just as quick.

He should be scaring you off too, not exciting you.

Not making you out to be an intoxication he was uncharacteristically impatient to divulge in.

Hell, with his given background and formidable expertise, no one even dared to hold his gaze for longer than three seconds. When he talked, everyone shut up. His reputation preceded him. Yet you... Bloody hell, you not only held your ground, but also eye-fucked him every chance you got.

Ghost didn't quite compute; you were a perfect stranger to him, someone he met but once, and yet you had a face that could make a man happily dream into an early death.

God, there was something about you that made his palms itch for a touch...itch to wrap that hair of yours around his fist, lift his mask, and descend for a proper feeding. A sick, twisted part of Ghost perhaps wanted to see how good you could get him to pillow talk.

It was a passing thought, but chills abraded his forearms. The challenge in it gave him a heated rush of red.

What the hell was the matter with him? he questioned for the umpteenth time.

He shouldn't be wanting such nonsense.

He shouldn't be caring for it either.

He should walk away now. But...

The moment he chose to act, turning, the exit his target, the shower stopped running. The naked pad of footsteps resounded. A towel flapped open. More footsteps, and then -

You emerged from the bathroom, all robed and clean, leaving steam in your wake. It looked like you'd just walked out of a dream, cherub cheeks flushed pink and skin dewy, almost satiny, and - fuck. He internally groaned. He wanted to bite.

What in nine hells? He popped his jaw in frustration.

Upon spotting him, excitement flashed in your eyes, and you nearly skipped over.

"You stayed," you breathily commented, the towel you were using to dry your hair tossed atop the dining table. Traces of vanilla and coconut saturated the air, infiltrating his mask, and his mouth involuntarily watered.

He needed to call that special number tonight, he decreed, or else he wouldn't survive the coming days. Days? More like hour. Keep it together, soldier.

Such unpalatable delight seeped from you, he slowly shook his head.

If only you knew he sewed another man's skull on his mask, beaten to a pulp before stripped clean of all tissue. A constant reminder of what he’d lost. Who he'd lost. If only you knew he viewed the outside world from the eyes of a dead man. If only you knew poison swam in his veins, immortalizing the infectious ichor that damned any soul to near him. Touch him. You would flee the other direction.

You would curse at him, curse him, see him for what he truly was.

A rotting corpse unleashed to the world to haunt. To terrorize.

Would you crave him then, knowing those very hands you wanted wrapped around you had ended lives, and most not so humanely?

He wasn't capable of holding you without hurting you.

Anything good and decent in him had long ago been buried away, and in their stead festered rancid tendencies that worked his mind and body tireless.

Nothing survived him, and you would be no different.

Even tonight, his somber mood a result of the death toll that ripped through his heart, deadened as it was, when he heard - witnessed - the scream of little children blown to pieces by a human bomber he was meant to stop, was no coincidence.

His main objective was to retrieve classified documents, but it had come at a cost when the enemy understood they were compromised.

He had done a bloody good job clearing the entire building, knives soaked crimson, fists even more so, but he'd forgone the basement, a bunker where bombers kept their own hostage. It was a gruesome tactic the enemy utilized to throw their foes off balance. He had a moment's decision before the bomber pressed the button - shoot him with the off-chance of saving the children, get obliterated to pieces and fail the mission, or succeed.

It was either them or the classified intel. He’d ducked for cover.

Choices have consequences, he remembered telling Johnny once, and, fuck, if he didn't hate himself for his.

He tasted the sulfur, the clogging dust saturated with human remains, in the back of his throat. He couldn't wipe those deaths from his eyes no matter how many times he bathed, scrubbed, scraped.

So, no matter you being a perfect stranger, feeding him look upon look of insatiable hunger any man would gladly sacrifice a limb for, he couldn't go down that road.

Especially when you meant so much to Johnny, his brother-in-arms, a man with a heart of gold that reminded Simon of his own. He couldn't do that to him, to you. Christ, he couldn't walk through fire again.

He wouldn't survive it.

And - bollocks, he nearly chuckled - he never sounded more miserable. It didn't matter. He'd be dodging a bullet with you, all right. All his physical needs, he could deal with them like a grown man in the confines of his own four walls.

Besides, he was a goddamn mess tonight, his feelings and thoughts blown asunder. He hadn't slept for seventy-two hours and was in desperate need of some shut-eye.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," your lilting voice broke through his thoughts. He blinked down at you. You shrugged, a small smile forming. "Funny how that works, don't you think?"

Maybe he should give you a taste of what it meant to know Simon Riley. Maybe then, and only then, would you understand the favor he'd been extending you.

Silently, he pushed the steaming cup of green tea your way.

A soft gasp. "A man after my own heart." Your fingers came around the mug, hugging it close to your chest and taking a cautious sip. "Mmm. Just what I needed."

"You feelin' better?" Christ, he might as well have spat out shards of glass with how rough he'd sounded.

You licked your lips, pink tongue darting out. "Yeah. Much," you whispered. "Thanks."

Your lips enclosed around the rim again, plump, red and eager. Red as poppies. He imagined them closing around something else, something harder, hotter, sweetened by your spit.

His muscles stiffened, the itch flaming his palms. Palms he then curled into tight fists - before releasing.

He unsuccessfully cleared his throat. "Right, then, you get that rest, poppy."

He turned on his heel, the exit never appearing more distant as he marched to it. At the end of the island, he'd left the box of med kit and his glove, and he reached for the latter as he bypassed.

A blur of white and he was staring down at your delicate features again.

"Wait, wait, you can't just leave. And you definitely can't take this." You snatched the glove from his grasp and quickly hid it behind your back. You pursed your lips at his quiet glower. "Because I'll, uh, wash it for you. More polite that way."

Bollocks. You meant to keep what was his, you wily little thing. He could easily wrestle it out of your hands, but he didn't want to give you more incentive to put your hands on him. Or, worse yet, his on you.

"You got somethin' you wanna say?" he roughed out.

"Only that I want to thank you. Properly."

"Properly thanked. Now out of my way."

He meant to sidestep but you halted him with a soft, warm palm on his chest. His heart, for the briefest second, quickened at the gesture. Didn't need incentive at all, it seemed.

You struggled for purchase. "Well - Well, what about your tea?"

"I'll live, poppy."

Another step, another pressing of your hand against his body. More adamantly this time.

Bloody hell, such a tiny thing, you were, but he'd never encountered a bigger hindrance. Especially when he was oh, so close to the exit. He was positive you were going to lock your door and swallow the key if he did not indulge you a moment's courtesy.

His abrasive exhale of defeat finally brought your palm down from his chest, and he - what? Wanted to beat your white-bricked walls in at the loss of contact? Absolutely not - couldn't have felt better.

His lids dropped, and his look of defiance rivaled yours. For a second too intense for his liking, both of you were stuck in a battle of wills.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four se -

Christ. That pulled a reaction from him, primal and almost aggressive. The kind that had the blood in his veins rushing hot and wild.

His low, grumbling voice, a contrast to the sudden, violent need unfurling in his lower abdomen, vibrated the still air between you.

"Properly thank me how?"

Of all the answers he could've expected, with how your teeth worried your lower lip, nibbling at the fleshly petal, or how your lashes fluttered, somehow nervous, or even with how your cheeks dusted pink in evident arousal, that is, a meek, "Biscuits?" was definitely not it.

His head jerked back, a frown creasing his forehead. "Biscuits?"

He fuckin' loved biscuits.

"Yes. With tea?"

Hell, he loved that more.

He let your words sit for a while. Then, "You got any ginger nuts there, poppy?"

A bashful smile revealed a row of straight, white teeth. He wanted to scrape his own against them, his tongue coaxing in to steal a little taste of you. At the heady image, he tensed.

Growled.

You swallowed. "You don't have to be so angry about it. I've got them. Come on, then, I'll share my favorites with you."

In under five minutes, you had the Ghost sprawled atop your bed goddamn picnicking with a plate of biscuits and a mug of tea in hand.

Having made away with his leather jacket, he leaned back into a heap of pillows you'd placed for him, and - oh, that felt good - his muscles hissed in pleasure at having finally relaxed.

He grunted, his lids threatening to drift shut. Your bed was warm, soft, and smelled of wild lilacs - all qualities Ghost was estranged to in the field, which happened to dominate the better part of his life.

"You'll love this," you said from your spot next to him. He'd momentarily slacked off, and your voice brought him back from the abating garden of flowers he was surrendering himself to.

He breathed in deep, pulling focus.

Having dimmed the lights to your loft, you wiggled to a comfortable position and succumbed to your own nest of pillows.

You smelled like a peachy sunset over a beach of glistening sands, and if he touched you, you'd feel even better.

And now he was turning into a bloody poet.

If 141 ever saw him like this, Ghost would never live it down.

He balanced his plate of biscuits and mug of tea on his lap, but when you pressed your shoulder to his, he nearly spilled the hot liquid over his pants.

It also chased the sleep from his burning lids, and, quietly, he suffered your presence.

His body seared where you touched him, but he made no show of it.

You outstretched your lithe legs, soft and enticing, over the bed, and crossed them at the ankles. At the movement, your white robe parted in the seams, revealing the supple flesh of your thigh, but you made no move to cover it. You simply lay there, still delectable with a kind of sweetness Ghost wanted to languidly lap at with his tongue.

So much so that the muscle now ached in his mouth.

He swore under his breath, his own legs shifting to distance his body from you. His booted feet, he dangled at the edge of the bed. He wasn't that barbaric.

"I thought you were the patient one," you chided, misreading his mood. In your fingers, you clutched some kind of a remote. It possessed two buttons. "Watch this."

You pressed the green one.

A soft whine reverberated from above, and then a portion of the sloped ceiling slid up to, inch by inch, reveal the thundering clouds in the sky.

Not many things had the power to surprise Ghost, but this... Well, suffice it to say, his jaw slightly slacked open.

Rain dazedly pelted the glassed frame, the droplets snaking down in rivulets, and distant strikes of lightning illuminated the cloudy world above, and in consequence, the dark room.

You dreamily sighed, sinking further into your pillows. You reached for the biscuits on his thighs.

Simon hadn't realized he'd placed them too close to his groin, and thought you went in for a different feeding, body abruptly tensing.

The faintest drop of your hand's weight on him had his throat contracting.

Subtly, he had the plate relocated to his abdomen. Much better.

"I had it installed when I moved in. It helps me sleep better at night. Oh, especially in such nights." You hummed out a chuckle and pointed. "Look at that cloud. Kind of looks like the head of a chihuahua, don't you think?"

Lightning crackled. The sky brightened in hues murky gray and electric blue - before plummeting into darkness.

He followed your finger, and released a contemplative sound. It was all he offered, but it seemed to be enough for you.

There was something about the sound of rain and your soft breathing that had Simon lulled to a cozy quiet. Snugged by the pillows, his weight sank deeper into the mattress, and he thought he was in a haven of your making.

This could put him dead out if it weren't for the tempting graze of your shoulder against his, forcing him awake ever time his lashes sluggishly fluttered shut.

You sipped your tea and reached for another biscuit.

Slowly, he lifted his own mask 'til his nose and watched, warily, if you'd sneak a peek. You did no such thing.

Ignoring the twitch in his brows, he bit into the biscuits. The tea smoothed them down his throat, and the warm nourishment felt good in his stomach.

All the while, you talked about your sweets and pastries, the corner shop you bought them from, and how it was your favorite with it having opened almost eighty years ago. And how he also should visit it once he gets the chance.

You finished your tea and placed the mug on your side of the nightstand. Brushing the crumbs from your fingers, you plopped back down, head on your pillows this time.

You still did not look at him.

Sober you seemed to have a few bit reservations than wasted you, it appeared, faintest traces of amusement pulling at the corners of his revealed lips.

Downing the rest of his tea, he put away the empty plate and mug to his side of the nightstand. With that, he masked his lips anew.

In the silence, the only sound the pouring rain, he dwelled in the dark with you.

Then, so softly, you said his name.

"Simon."

His breath hitched dead center in his chest. His eyes arrowed down at your lying figure.

You continued to look away, spiky lashes fanning delicate cheekbones.

"You can stay the night, if you want," you made out, swallowing tentatively and moistening your lips. With a tiny jump, you turned over - and finally tilted your face up to look him in the eyes. You cupped the underside of your cheek. "We don't have to do anything. Not that you - Not that you said you wanted to. I'm sorry. I only mean, it's late...and you must be tired." Then, oh, so gently, "Heard you had a long night, too."

Ghost remained silent for the duration of your speech, and at the last sentence, quirked a brow up. "Yeah? And who told you that?"

"Johnny," you murmured.

"Johnny," he echoed. A low crackling sound sizzled in his chest, but it dwindled out before ever reaching his throat. "You discuss me with Johnny, do ya now, poppy?"

Your eyes dropped from his masked face, and your fingers drew small circles into the pillow next to his.

"Sometimes, I do, yes." So effortlessly admitted. Fuck. "It was merely an evaluation of your person, is all. I could see it too. Your eyes are red. Bit groggy too."

He rasped out a low chuckle, if it could be called that, seeing as some sounds tended to get lost in the wide expanse of his chest. "That it, eh?"

A small smile crinkled the corner of your eye, and if he had a heart, he might've gone as far as to call you a darling right then and there.

You shrugged. "Yeah."

He ran the tip of his tongue against his teeth. Simon knew it was best he end the conversation now, rise from your bed, and exit your apartment. Your life. He got his proper thanks, after all.

But, like a damned fool he could only blame on his exhausted state, he stayed put - and probed further. "What else you bothered Johnny about me, mm?"

You licked your lips again, the tip of that tempestuous pink muscle wetting the seam, and he bit back a wanting grunt.

He'd never been more arrested by a mundane act.

Focus, soldier.

His eyes trailed the gentle curve of your jawline...and down your slender neck.

No, not there, you daft geezer. Away.

"Your mask," your tentative voice filled the room.

"What's wrong with it?"

Your soft hair rustled against the sheets as you shook your head. "Nothing. It's merely got something honest about it, is all. As paradoxical as that may seem, I realize now. It's pleasant."

Pleasant? That's a new one.

But he couldn't have you building false notions about him like that. Maybe it was time he warned you away for good.

"I have more blood on my hands than the one running in your veins, poppy. There is nothing honest about me," he coldly provided.

"Well, I think you're wrong."

Bloody hell, what would it take to dislodge you?

You moved, body climbing up the pillows until your head rested close to his shoulder. And then a little bit more, until you leveled with his face.

The sheer heat emanating from your skin traveled past his clothes, seeping into his pores.

Yeah, you were a darlin', all right. A damn appetizing one, at that.

You shifted slightly, weight on your left hip and bared legs so dangerously close to his.

Through the thick rim of your lashes, you regarded him. "Ghost," you said, and he nearly corrected you. "Would you like to know what else I discuss with Johnny?"

A burning sensation infiltrated his cheek, and he realized you were tracing your fingertips over his masked features. Carefully, cautiously, so as to not chase him away.

"For one, those pretty eyes of yours," you hummed lowly. On cue, you gently trailed a finger down his brow bone.

Heat speared his cheeks at that, and he was grateful for the coverage. Simon Riley, blushing. His lashes fluttered a bit, but other than that, you remained clueless as to his expression.

"And they change color every time I look upon you. Sometimes blue, sometimes silver, other times brown, like sweet caramel, and my favorite, pitch black. How do you do that?"

You studied him enough to have a favorite? At that revelation, his throat tightened.

Wordless, he performed a small, almost undiscernible, shrug, the pillows underneath shifting.

A slow, deep smile curved your cheeks. "You should let me study them in broad daylight. I'm sure I'll solve the mystery in no time." With a cheeky air, you booped the tip of his nose with your finger.

Quietly, he watched your face, coal-dark eyes intent and focused, the only sounds from him his steady breathing.

"God, they're so black." Tenderly, you ran your knuckles across his jawline, angled your head, and then softly guided his face closer to yours.

Once, someone had told him he had no present, past, or future, and he'd told them that he'd see them in hell. Now, Ghost realized hell was here, in the breath of a space between you, where you sat so close to him, and yet he could not close it.

"None of that, poppy." He nudged your hold off.

Disappointment colored your eyes, drooped your shoulders, and brought those pearl-white teeth to gnaw at your fleshly lower lip. And with so much bite, he spotted teeth marks form.

"Easy there," he murmured, fingers acting without his explicit permission and pinching your chin.

At that, the discouragement washed away and your eyes clouded with something dark and promising, putting the storm outside to shame. There you went again with that look. If his career in the Special Forces hadn't driven him mad, this surely would.

Understanding that he shouldn't have touched you, he made to move away, but your fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him close - and sliding your body closer.

The second your hip meshed against his, his muscles seized up, locking tight upon his bones.

God, you were hot against him. Burning up.

Simon nearly bolted from the bed when he felt your legs entangle with his, the blistering tension having unwittingly made away with much of his resolve and rendering him stimulated in places he'd rather not feel stimulated in.

Your toes teased his legs, rubbing up against the coarse material of his pants. Then, they glided over them, finding purchase in his inner calves - and massaging. Up, up, they traveled, then dooown they dropped, creating a spine-tingling friction.

Ghost grunted, shoulders bunching before undulating. He straightened a bit. Good God. He was suddenly too aware of his own body heating up and all his intimate areas. All too aware of his blood pumping and where it was rushing.

"You better stop that before you get hurt, yeah, darlin'?" he grated past his teeth.

You sighed, no doubt relishing in his deteriorating strength. "A little pain never hurt nobody. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

As you said that, you wedged your leg more firmly between his, parting them, and slid your knee upward to lightly grind it against his sensitive groin.

Christ. He grunted with less control now, the feeling slowly slipping through his fingers.

You shouldn't be using that kind of language with him. Shouldn't be talking in such a tone. Because addiction was another sin he didn't mind adding to the list.

His body sweltered from the inside and his heartbeat increased, beating in his ears. He had to leave.

Jerking slightly at another shiver inducing motion, he pushed at your leg.

A final, "No, poppy," scraped past his throat.

"Simon," you tugged at his wrist, voice hoarsely breaking at the end and so desperately, it nearly unmanned him, "I - I'm on fire. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Need... I need you. I can't stop. I don't know why I can't stop. I just - God, I've been needing you for so long now. Every night, I dream of you, do you know that? Every night. Please, please...I'm going insane. I'm - "

That did it.

With a ferocious snarl that was more animal than man, his arm shot forward, calloused fingers latching onto your cheeks and unchivalrously burying your head in your pillows with the abrupt maneuver of his body over yours.

His weight suffocated you into the mattress.

You gasped, eyes gaping wide in alarm.

His ire flared, his desire, even more so.

"Shut the fuck up," Ghost gritted in your face, now panting hot and fast. "Shut your fuckin' mouth now, poppy. Fuck. You ever heed a warning? You ever heard of using your own goddamn fingers? You ever use that pretty little head of yours? Bloody fucking hell, darlin'. Bloody. Fucking. Hell."

You squirmed under him, releasing small, breathless sounds.

The image of you rendered so helpless roused the most primal parts of him and his cock painfully hardened, straining against the strap of his pants.

It was blooming into an ache his hands alone wouldn't be able to assuage. Goddamit.

Your eyes searched his, arraying back and forth, attempting to grasp what just occurred within the span of a blink.

Then, they narrowed, pretty lashes fusing. "I have," you ground out, baring your teeth at him. "I do. But they're never enough." Fuck, you were talking about your fingers. You almost pouted insufferably. "Never what I want. Need. Crave."

"And I am?" he growled out, baring his own teeth. You seemed to like the intensity he exuded, even heatedly roamed your eyes over his masked lips, expression devoid of all fear.

You nodded eagerly.

Yes.

He cursed under his breath.

Lowly, lethally, "How hard did you hit that head of yours, mm?"

You bit your lips to suppress a moan, "Hard enough to get you in my bed."

"That mouth of yours is goin' to get you in trouble, poppy."

You keened at the warning. "Promise?"

At that, he couldn't will himself away even if he wanted to. Not even all the soldiers in his team combined could drag him away when you stared up at him so wantonly, so desperately, silently begging to make away with the terrible ache that shadowed over your every need.

So be it. You would learn your lesson.

"Open your legs," he growled - and slipped his hand underneath your robe.

an: i made it into 3 parts bcs, well, i just had too much fun writing ghost suffering in his self-imposed ✨ agonies ✨

suffice it to say, the next part will be pure filth. pinkie swear this time. strap your seatbelts, girlies, we’re going to the horniest, dirtiest bangtown.

on another note, if anyone is willing to chat/discuss fics relating to cod or any other fandom of their liking, I’ve created a new discord server and pinned it on my blog; all are more than welcome to join ✨

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