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ddoxhan · 11 months

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that summer

draw me in your world, as you let yourself into mine let me be your safe haven, for I love when you shine

word count : 4.8k words

genre : fluff with a tinge of angst; your typical summer love story but haerin does not feel the same way you do for her?; runner! haerin x literature student! fem!reader; you are an overthinker and sometimes just wish you stop thinking

t/w : none :)

a/n : this is the longest i've ever written for a oneshot and honestly, i didn't want to split it up cause i wanted yall to feel the whole thing at one go. enjoy !

"haerin-ah, wait up!"

"you're just slow! we're gonna be late if we don't hurry!"

you swore you needed to wake up earlier to avoid having to rush to school, especially when haerin waits for you every day to walk together. at this point, the two of you had been running to class for three days in a row now, not walk. to your surprise, the girl has never complained or grumbled about how you would make her almost miss the bell. but then again, she's always been like that. haerin was never someone who wouid let out her anger on you or anyone in general. you've never seen her get angry, concluding that she just doesn't know how to.

the said girl turned her head around while not faltering in her rushed steps, making sure you're keeping up with her speed. but the thing is, she's the school's top runner and you barely pass your required tests for physical education. haerin knows, which was why she opted to drag you along by your hand. the sudden grab left you slightly taken aback. well, slight is an understatement, you were very taken aback. especially when you have the most obvious crush on her.

you've always had a crush on haerin ever since you were 12. it just happened so when she saved you from some bullies, aka silly boys, running away from them as you two rest at the neighbourhood playground after. she sat you on the swing while you cried in both fear and relief. but all the fear washed away when she flashed you a smile that you never forgot till this day. the way her eyes curved up and her snaggletooth showed with that big smile of hers, that's when you fell for her.

as you busied yourself in your own world, you once again arrived at the school gate right before they closed it off, with some students sighing at how they missed it by a split second behind it. a slow realization hit that you've ran to your limit, you tried taking deep breaths but it might have made it worse. sometimes you wished you were more athletic, for these kind of situations, and also to spend more time with haerin if you were in the track and field team.

"hey, try breathing with both your nose and mouth, it can help."

the girl in front of you looks unfazed, as if she just went for a relaxing morning jog. which isn't entirely wrong as you don't live too far from school. you stand up straight again, doing what she told you to. it actually did help but as she glanced at her watch, you understood what it meant.

"go on, don't be late for class because of me."

"it's fine, there's still some time. I'll go with you."

although you were very sure classes starts in 3 minutes, you didn't argue further as it just meant you get to spend more time although it's just minutes. when the two of you were put into different classes, the time spent together reduced drastically plus haerin's training after class on some days. it was just lunch and maybe weekends if she didn't have extra training. but you felt bad for wanting her to spend her only free day with you, so you try to refrain from jumping onto her bed during some weekends.

why is it so hard to just spend some time with her?

lunch came. and that meant you get to see haerin again after the last time before classes started. at this point, you were just too infatuated with her that you were experiencing some sort of separation anxiety that you can't seem to quite explain. there's nothing you can do about it, you were just that in love with her.

but you did not guess for her to walk along to the cafeteria with him. him who? him, woonhak, the heartthrob who happens to be almost as good as haerin in the track and field team. everyone who sees them walking down the corridor would literally stop to look at how good they look together. it's to the point that they gush over the possible relationship they should have.

you were one of the people who'd look too, but you were always left slightly upset and heartbroken whenever you heard such comments. for sure, woonhak didn't do anything other than walk with her because he likes to ask and learn from haerin when it comes to running. there was no one to blame for your feelings except yourself. and at times, you just wished you could just like someone else cause the pain gets unbearable.

"hey froggie! how was class?"

it might sound like you're being selfish, but you wished haerin only ever smiles at you like that. that smile, the very same one you fell for and also the one that makes your heart clench a little. not to mention the nickname, it makes you feel as if she sees you nothing more than just a friend.

"the same. mr park is giving out work, again. I'm not surprised anyways."

"how about you?"

you swore you saw how her eyes sparkled a little when she started telling you about hers. but you don't feel that much good inside after.

"oh! you know woonhak right? him and I got chosen to be interviewed for a promotional video for the school."

"oh, him..."

"sorry, did you say something?"

"ah, yeah I know him."

"yup him, we agreed to meet on sunday to prepare ahead of the interview. I'm sorry if you wanted to come over."

"no don't be, it's fine. I can just work on mr park's project on sunday."

"but still, it feels weird that I won't be around."

"oh come on, it's literally just a few hours! and before you know it, you'll be back and I can come over if you want."

"this is why you're my best friend, I can always count on you."

well, that hurt a lot. you didn't know if it was intentional or just coincidental as she manages to throw your urge to confess out of the window every time it surfaces. all you could hope was that she didn't take notice of your feelings, or else you swear you'd never be able to face her again. the very last thing you need is for this friendship with her to shatter to the ground like glass. but you knew, the moment you fell for her, you were already walking on thin ice.

"what do they have for lunch today?"

"kimchi fried rice, today has your favourite strawberry milk."

picking up yours, you shaked it to tempt her to quickly go get hers and come have her food with you. and so she did.

whenever it came to her favourite food, she always looks like a cute little kitten who's hungry all the time. and when she spots them, she'd rush to get it and sit with you with an adorable smile plastered on her face as she eats or drinks away. you wish you were able to be someone who makes her that happy too, but along with those thoughts were the heavy consequences of your confession.

whatever you two have built throughout these many years will just shatter like glass, into fragile pieces that will not be able to be pieced together again. even if it could be pieced together again, nothing can stay the same.

for now, you'll keep it to yourself. nothing has shifted between you and haerin, so you shouldn't too.

you have no idea what the hell you're doing right now. what kind of situation is this, you don't know.

"you told me we were gonna work on that project. as far as I know, this is not part of the project."

"I know, but just, we'll work on it after. for now, I just need you to accompany me."

"bro, this feels so illegal to be spying on someone."

"I'm just making sure that boy isn't doing anything to haerin."

"you know they're like the most shipped couple in school right? and woonhak's a really nice person."

"you never know."

all dani could do was roll her eyes at how dumb you look, she looks, with this so called disguise that barely covered their identity. she told you the shades were not it when it's practically indoors, and how it literally makes them stand out even more. at times like this, she questions herself why she's friends with you, and why she's willing to be in this with you. overall you were a great person, just not when you get too overprotective of the girl you love.

"if you're just gonna snoop around, you might as well just confess."

the moment you heard the word 'confess', the coffee you were drinking through your mouth came out through your nose. dani didn't know whether to laugh or help you wipe the table cause that was the reenactment of that 'the incredibles' meme of violet. maybe this was why she was friends with you.

"w-what do you mean?"

"you're too obvious to not notice each and every time you zoom out of class to have lunch with haerin. and zoom out again when the bell rings so you can head over to the gym hall to watch her practice."

"bro why didn't you tell me?!"

"tell you what? that you're like an idiot in love but the person you love doesn't seem to feel the same way?"

"I am not an idiot! but I definitely am in love..."

the mood suddenly shifted to somewhat gloomy as those words left your mouth. admitting that you had feelings for haerin to someone else for the first time didn't feel much extravagant than you thought. it wasn't that what you felt wasn't real or overwhelming, they very much were. but the thought of her not reciprocating them, broke you a little on the inside.

you've always imagined being by her side throughout university till the day you'd grow old and get a small house in the countryside. if it were the best friend context, things would have been fine. but you want to be there for her as someone she loves, too. as cheesy as it sounds, just the two of you against the world and no one can stop you.

reality begged to differ when you see how happy she is now as she picks up some clothes from the racks in a store. with woonhak smiling down at her. you couldn't deny that they look good together, way to good that it was believable if haerin told you they started dating after this date. the more you saw the two of them together, the more it was harder to imagine you being the one who would be making her happy.

although you've known her for so long, you weren't one to express your feelings through words. 'actions speak louder than words' was the motto you've lived with all this time. but this love thing takes more than that. being a literature student did not help with that vast range of vocabulary cause there was no point of preparing a confession. it has to come from the heart, and that's what makes it so hard.

"..."

"they left by the way."

your head whipped to the direction of the store they were in, and the last spot you saw them at was indeed empty.

"let's go then! you better saw where they are heading."

not even allowing dani to finish her chocolate drink, you dragged her along to chase after the two. they were definitely fast, very fitting to be in the track and field team. and dani did not sign up for this.

in the end, dani had to drag you out of that mall before you ended up actually stalking those two poor souls. you were definitely not pleased with that decision but you two had a project to attend to, so you placed whatever that's disturbing to the back of your head. although it was sort of futile.

"well, at least we got half of this done, sorta."

"we can meet again tomorrow after school to finish it up if you want."

the australian squinted her eyes at you, as if trying to question your intention. she had the right to after what you pulled off today.

"for real, this time. I kinda want to get this over with and watch haerin practice."

"you better keep your promise."

giving a salute, all dani could do was chuckle at your attempt to lighten the mood with your antics. how can she not love someone like you when all you do was make everyone around you smile?

"hey, do you think it's possible that haerin would have feelings for me? even the slightest bit?"

"I don't see why not. you're a nice kid."

"the definition of nice is different for everyone, and so it is for me."

the older took a seat next to you on the bed, putting down her books on your study desk. when the topic about your feelings for haerin surface each time, you can't help but let your real self seep out a little, the happy-go-lucky facade faltering.

"you know, you don't have to be nice to be liked by anyone."

"but that doesn't mean I can be bad either."

"you know I don't mean it that way. it's just that, whether the person is nice or not, if you like them, you just do."

"that's true..."

it was feeling a little weird to talk about this with someone, but you were glad that it was dani. she was like an older sister figure that you could rely on whenever you needed her.

"you love haerin. and do you love her because she's nice? or because it's her?"

as you registered her words in your brain, you couldn't help but feel hopeful all over again, even after seeing those two at the mall today. maybe, they really are just friends. maybe, haerin does like you a little. maybe, you should confess.

you were so lost in your own thoughts that you couldn't feel the presence next to you, slowly clasping your hands. dani looked at you really endearingly, as if you were the person she cherished the most in the world.

"whatever you do, I'd be here to support, okay?"

giving her a reassuring nod and grin, dani's heart swelled at how your mood was lifted again. all she wants to see was you smile, regardless of who's behind it.

"FROGGIE!"

the shout from across your bedroom door grabbed your attention as your eyes darted towards it. as it swung open, the very person you two were talking about barged through to throw you into a hug. along with dani cause haerin knows her too.

"unnie! what are you doing here? the project?"

"hmm, we were just tidying up cause it's getting late."

the older slipped out from the embrace to finish packing her stuff to leave those two to their own world. maybe one day, she'd be able to find someone she loves too.

"bye unnie!"

"dani, I'll let you know what time tomorrow."

"yup sure, just ping me when you're done."

as dani left when she saw your thumbs up, you're tackled into another hug. you were wondering why she was being extra clingy after that date with woonhak. did woonhak confess to her? was she being shy about it? is she gonna tell you something? you were overthinking a lot of things and it wasn't a good sign cause that just means you're going to start doubting every single action haerin takes.

"I missed you."

you wish you would just disintegrate into dust at this very moment. everything that has happened today had already put your brain and feelings into overdrive. and for her to say this, made your heart feel heavier than ever. you didn't know why, it just didn't feel all that good although you did miss her too. but the words just can't seem to fall from your lips.

all you could do was look away and nod. because if you were to look at her, you think you are going to cry and confuse her even further.

"I should go shower first, it's been a long day."

"then we can cuddle!"

haerin slipped away from the embrace into your bathroom. with her belongings scattered around your room, it makes you feel even dizzier from all these crashing feelings. it's as if you are itching to confess to her or else you'd combust for real. that was why you could only keep your mouth shut, or everything would be over.

for now again, you try your best to act normal in front of her. for your own sake, for her sake, and to keep this friendship the way it has been this whole time.

everything went on like normal. you and dani wrapped up that damn project mr park gave, having lunch with haerin every day, spending your time watching her practice, hanging out every weekend. but as haerin's competition was approaching, she spends more time at the gym hall, even during weekends at times. you can't blame her when she's the top in her team.

this competition was utmost important for her as many big companies scout at this particular one. meaning that if she does well, she may have a chance of signing with one. but that means that she would have to move to the city if that does happen.

you were afraid to lose her. sure, you two would still be friends even if she was miles away. so that's exactly what you're afraid of, staying friends. you knew you had no guts to confess to her anytime soon. if haerin leaves, you will still be here. you can't imagine how it will be without her, because you've spent your entire life with her by your side.

even today, you're in your room as haerin is training more as days are left till the competition. divided between confessing or not, you wrote down all the things you want to get for her on your laptop. the tomato frog that she loves so much, a printed sweater with a cat, a couple bracelet that she had her eye on last month. you remembered everything like you knew the back of your hand. it wasn't intentional, but you just did. not to mention that you had quite bad memory that you took a week to remember your seatmate's name.

you were going to do it. you were going to confess. it took you years to finally make that decision and you want it to be perfect. what did it mean by perfect, you don't know. it was your first time, but you just wanted it to be from the bottom of your heart. regardless of whether haerin would reciprocate the feelings, you came to an agreement with yourself that it was fine if she didn't. she was going to move away when she wins that competition so it would just mean that you two stay friends. friends who are apart from each other.

although it may take time to heal, it was going to be fine. not everything in life can go smoothly, and you were willing to take the risk. it was unfair for both you and her. you couldn't pretend any longer that you saw her as a friend, when the way you treat her is definitely more than one. and she deserves to know what you feel for her, with no secrets kept between the two of you.

D-10.

"WOONHAK! GOOD LUCK!"

"YOU'RE GONNA DO GREAT BRO!"

"HAERIN-AH! SLAY IT!"

"HWAITING!"

screams and shouts from both sides of your ears were definitely gonna leave them ringing for some time. of course you weren't going to miss haerin's big day. you were beyond proud that she made it to the finals after beating her opponents in the semifinals. quarters were a piece of cake since she was a whole second ahead of everyone.

it was no doubt when she held the fastest record for 100m among the schools here. the agents definitely had their eyes on her the entire time, it just depends on who she chooses.

you didn't really like going out for events like these but she was an exception. although you weren't screaming your lungs out for her, you caressed that ring on your finger very dearly. the ring haerin got you when you two got into the same high school, calling it "the lucky ring". whenever there were big happenings, you'd wear it, feeling that she was with you through them. this time, you wore it so she could feel that you were with her.

"ON YOUR MARK."

the determination on haerin's face didn't go unnoticed even if you were nowhere close to the tracks. and when she flashed that smile at you before the whistle went off, you cried softly into your hands.

you love her so much. so much that this was going to be the last time you two were going to be friends. friends who grew up together, playing with puddles at the playground. finding restaurants to visit together. laughing at stupid videos in bed. taking pictures and videos of each other when one is sleeping. all those days were going to be a memory. a sweet memory for you to look back at after this day.

reporters swarmed the winner of the competition, blocking the pathway for the others who could only sigh at their defeat. some were lucky with outstanding performance.

"could you tell us what's your future plans after this?"

"will you be signing with Krux? we saw their agent approach you personally."

"is it possible to know who kim woonhak is to you?"

"i'm sorry everyone but haerin will be heading off first, any questions will be answered by me."

the coach pushed haerin into the locker room before locking everyone outside with him. she let out the breath even she didn't know she was holding.

"so, who is kim woonhak to you?"

the noise was starting to die down outside as the reporters were led to a different room for interview. the silence was growing deafening as those words echoed across the empty room.

"you're my friend."

"damn, I really didn't have a chance, did I?"

"you know that very well. plus, there's a whole line waiting to date you so why waste your time on me?"

haerin couldn't bother, as she had something better to do and someone better to be with.

"sunbae, you do know I don't like you anymore right? not after you turned down my confession the other day."

"I was just making sure. I've seen too many of you playboys in action."

"oh come on, I'm not a playboy!"

woonhak was someone who was very responsive to teases, and haerin takes every chance she gets to tease the hell out of him. if anything, he was like a brother to her and she was like a sister to him. in fact, both of them decided to sign with the same company since they were offered. it was always good to have someone on your side in the sports world.

"I know, I was just messing with you. now get out, coach probably needs you."

"why me when the winner is right here chilling?"

"because you're gonna answer on my behalf."

the scene that was unfolding could easily be misunderstood if walked in at the wrong timing. and someone did just that. but what haerin didn't expect was that you walked in on them, seemingly laughing and smacking each other, like a couple. well, it did look like that to you at least.

you felt like you were interrupting something, so you dashed out of there as quick as you could. your eyes were stinging as the humid wind cut through your tears that were threatening to fall. although haerin was deemed the winner today, you were zooming past people faster than she could, as if in denial that you lost even before getting a chance to tell her.

it was getting more and more suffocating as the people around you were overwhelming. although you could breathe better when you reached the tracks, taking in the view of the vast field, it was too much that you had to hit your chest to let out some suppressed cries.

just as you felt slightly better, you felt a pair of arms swinging across your sides from behind, trapping you with them. you didn't even need to see who it is, as their scent invaded your senses, carrying familiarity with it.

"haerin-ah, congratulations! I'm so proud of you."

you turned around to bring her into a hug, but also hiding the fact you were crying because things were to change today.

"thank you, I wouldn't have done it without you."

"no, don't say that. you.. did it because you trained very hard for this. and you'll be achieving your dreams."

"you did do something for me, you were there for me. I saw you at the bleachers and that made me more determined to win."

"why are you crying, froggie? don't cry, we'll still see each other."

haerin cupped your face with her hands to wipe the tears off of your face. but that just hit the nail on the coffin, meaning that she would sign and leave for the city. which was now or never.

"haerin-ah."

"hmm?"

the endearing look in her face as she looks at you was more than enough to let you know she would be here for you no matter what. even as just a friend. although it was starting to rain, you knew you had to do it now. the words were getting stuck in your throat as it started to get dry. but, you were going to do it still.

"I love you."

"huh?"

the confusion on her face hurt you more than it should. you should know that she does not feel the same way you did for her. you should know that she was probably already dating woonhak after what you saw earlier. you should know-

"I love you too."

it was the first time you have ever seen that smile on her face. a grin so wide, it's like she's the happiest girl in the world. the most crescent eyes you've seen on her, as if she's staring at the girl she loves.

wait. she said she loves you too.

the sunshower was drenching the two of you but you couldn't give a damn about it. she said she loves you. she reciprocated your feelings. but you were having a very hard time trying to wrap your head around it.

"I love you too, you silly."

her laughter tickled your ears as you stood there frozen. your dumb reaction had her swaying you around with her in the rain as the sun was blinding through the droplets. just as she stopped to look at you again, you still had that bewildered face.

"I thought you were dating woonhak..."

"me? and that idiot? babe, you gotta be kidding me."

the sudden endearment had your cheeks flare up as you bury your head in her shoulder, in attempt to cover your face. but your ears were shooting bright red too, earning an earthy laughter from haerin, you could feel it through the embrace.

"so that means we're dating right?"

she looked at you with a shocked face before peppering kisses all over your cheeks.

"yes, of course froggie. unless you wanna get married."

the attempt at humor cracked both of you up, but you knew that was something you see happening in the future. but for now, everything was perfect. you were perfect, and haerin's urge to kiss you was too strong at that moment.

"can I kiss you?"

all you could do was nod and as her lips touched yours, that's when things were sinking in for you. your hands slowly draped over her neck as you pulled her closer to feel the longing for her warmth grow stronger. the sunshower painted over you and her, but you couldn't care less about what's around you when the most important person is in front of you. it was true that today was the last day you two were friends, but blossomed into a new beginning as each other's love.

as you pulled back to breathe, you two had your eyes closed, foreheads touching. although no words were exchanged, you knew, many more summers were to be spent with the love of your life.

it was the summer rain, the summer rain when haerin fell for you as you held her hand and ran in the rain back home.

that summer you fell for her too.

#haerin #kang haerin #danielle #danielle marsh #newjeans #newjeans fluff #newjeans angst #newjeans imagines #newjeans scenarios #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #haerin x reader #feat woonhak #feat boynextdoor #Spotify

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reidscanehand · 10 months

Text

I Remember Halloween

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: Fluff/Comfort

Warnings: mentions of burnout and anxieties

Based on a single tiktok and this song

~ More and more I’ll catalogue my doubts ~

You could see the signs. Hell, you’d always been able to see the signs. Even when you and Spencer weren’t dating and were just co-workers, you’d been able to see the signs. You don’t see how anyone could miss any of Spencer’s tells, honestly, though he was terribly good at masking them when he wanted to. However, since semi-retiring from the BAU and focusing more on teaching, Spencer had been less careful, less guarded. It would annoy him if you said so, but you delighted in it - the openness, the guard finally down fully. Suffice it to say that when your adorable husband came home two weeks in a row, exhausted even after only teaching one class, you recognized it as burnout, even if he didn’t. Or wouldn’t - self care had never been Spencer’s strong suit. Which is why the element of surprise is entirely necessary, no matter how drastic it may feel. It was incredibly helpful that, despite living through a pandemic working in education and being a genius, your husband still is an abysmally precious mess when it comes to technology.

You’d originally thought to do a Friday, but with various friend and family celebrations almost every weekend until the end of the year, it made more sense - and frankly made it more fun - to cancel Spencer’s classes for a day and play hooky a little.

It’s a bright and slightly rainy Thursday morning - random, but purposefully so - in September. Your husband’s alarm goes off and he leans over, pressing a kiss to your temple, before getting up and taking a shower. Every so often, you’d join him in the shower, but not today. Today you get up and head to the kitchen.

You’d loved Spencer’s old apartment, but when the two of you moved in together, especially after the events of his last few somewhat traumatizing years with the BAU, a change felt necessary. The two bedroom, two bath bungalow you two found just outside of Stafford, Virginia was just as charming as Spencer’s old place. Antique, but modern enough to have better security than his old building (he is understandably a stickler for safety). The kitchen features windows looking out into your small backyard, Spencer planted a tree last year and you’re sure it was in order to watch the leaves change as fall arrives. The tips of the leaves are just beginning to yellow, the light rain a perfect background for the day you have planned. You turn on the stove and oven and open the fridge, pulling out a can of pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls and the package of turkey bacon. You begin cooking and you can hear your husband start getting ready and, just as you thought it would, the smell of the food draws him away from his typical morning routine (get dressed, make coffee, grab a granola bar if he remembers to) and brings him to the kitchen.

“Is there a reason,” he asks from the doorway, “that it smells…like, um-“

“Like fall?” you ask, smiling over your shoulder at him as you flip the turkey bacon in the pan. Spencer grins and you turn back to the food.

“Well, yeah,” Spencer says. “You planning a fun day alone?”

You wince a little at the small hint of jealousy you hear in his voice, thrilled that your response is, “No, not alone.”

“Oh,” he replies, a little shocked. “Is someone coming ov-“

“Nope,” you reply cheerfully, grabbing a mitt and pulling the cinnamon rolls out of the oven.

“Wait…wait, what?” Spencer questions, totally not distracted by you bending over like that.

“Come on, lovey,” you tease, turning to face him fully. “Put the pieces together.”

He stares at you for a moment and then looks almost overwhelmingly sad, “Honey, I have three classes today, I can’t-“

“About that,” you cut him off quietly. He arches a brow at you, but you cross to the end of the kitchen island, pulling out Spencer’s university laptop and opening it, clicking to his classes’ dashboard page on the school’s site and turning it around slowly, chewing on your lip just a little nervously.

“Dear Students,” Spencer reads after popping on his glasses. “Classes are cancelled until Monday due to slight illness on my part. Have a great long weekend - be sure to read ahead for Monday!”

There’s a slightly too long silence that makes you just a bit nervous.

“I know it might be a bit of an overstep, but you’ve just seemed so…so burned out lately and-“ you’re cut off as Spencer moves to stand right in front of you.

“You cancelled my classes for me?” he asks, a small smile poking at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes,” you reply.

“So that we could…do what, exactly?” He attempts to keep his smile at bay, but is nearly beaming.

“Well,” you smile, “I thought we could eat some pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls and bacon and, I don’t know, maybe get really cozy on our super comfortable couch and watch Hocus Pocus, Corpse Bride, and Practical Magic? Maybe throw in Crimson Peak if we’re still going strong?”

“Just to clarify, you realized I was burned out and decided to plan a cozy fall movie day to make me feel better?” Spencer asks, almost incredulous, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“That would be it, yes,” you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Damn,” he mutters quietly, looking down at you.

“What?” you giggle.

“Nothing,” Spencer beams, turning his head and eyeing your lips, “I just definitely married the perfect woman.”

Your laugh is quickly quashed by his lips on yours.

~ I remember Halloween. ~

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#spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds blurb #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #i know it’s august #but it’s basically halloween

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

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Hi could I please request with any of the moon boys afternoon in the public library selecting a lot of books because they keep finding different ones by author's you love and they're carry them all and the elderly lady behind the counter thats been watching says that they are a lovely young man and a keeper. Thank you 💜 😊

Escape (Jake Lockley x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna be tagged?

A/N: EEEE THIS WAS A CUTE IDEA. I had done something similar with the other two babies, so I hope you don’t mind me choosing Jake <3 yes the most unlikely place you’ll find this man is the library but let's go with it hehe.

Word Count: 1.6 k

Love can be blinding, and Jake feels like it is blaring in his ears through sonnets and poems. He learned from you that to love is to not hurt, but to let things be. To love is to be free. Your tender beauty and kindness had been his pride’s undoing. He didn’t realise that his heart got snatched away until it started beating by the song of your own heart.

The first time he met you, nothing in this universe could have prepared him for the blinding reality that he was going to face. He was so caught off guard by your appearance that he seemed to forget his own name. You had flagged down his cab, hair bellowing in the wind as the first droplets of rain hit the windscreen of his cab.

You immediately had struck up a conversation with him, jabbering away about how a crow stole your bagel in the morning. Jake couldn’t help but laugh at your story, letting your soothing voice rub at his hardened edges.

“Here, call this if you ever have another bad day. You don’t have to flag another cab, just give me a call.” Jake found himself saying, slipping you a note along with your change.

“Oh, you’re too sweet, you don’t have to do this!” You sighed but in reality, you wouldn’t know whether you had the willpower to not call him immediately after he dropped you off at the place you needed to be at.

And that’s exactly what you did. Jake Lockley, the handsome cabbie, became one of your closest friends. He had a sense of humour that made you feel at home, you’d always end up laughing a little too hard when Jake would cook up a joke. Soon, you were sitting in the front seat of his cab and he switched out his newspaper boy cap with sunglasses that complemented the vibe of his curly hair. You often found yourself looking longingly at him wherever he would blast the radio and start singing along to your favourite songs.

Today, you asked him whether he wanted to hang out at the library and he immediately texted you a yes, picking you up in less than 20 minutes. Jake watched as you rolled the window down, letting the wind blow in your hair as you smiled blissfully. The weather was tolerable and Jake was extremely happy. Your leg bounced as it usually did and Jake fought the urge to place his hand on your thigh and steady it, instead choosing to grip the steering tighter.

You skipped up the stairs of the library once you got there, and Jake followed you, absolutely mesmerised by the spring in your step. Once you realised that you were getting too far away from Jake, you hung back and took a hold of his hand, surprising him. He lurched forward, his chest colliding with your back. He immediately murmured his apology, still in awe with you.

You breathed in deeply, the scent of the library filling your lungs with a deep memory. Your grandma used to bring you here and read you books and she encouraged your love for them.

“If you wanted to escape, this is the safest way to do it, child.” she used to say and that's what you did every weekend.

Why did you bring Jake with you then?

The question plagued your mind as you pulled him through rows of books, the sound of Jake’s boots thudding against the carpet the only thing keeping you held down to Earth. Slowly, you let go of Jake’s hand and trailed off, absolutely enamoured by the books before you. Jake slowly drifted off too, his headmate begging for him to pull one of the books that he really needed from the shelf.

Jake rolls his eyes and pulls the book before turning to look for you. All his eyes saw were the rows of books, you nowhere in sight. Jake shakes his head and smiles to himself, gently tapping the spine of the book with the palm of his hand. It wasn’t long before he found you. A stack of books were balanced on your hip and supported by one of your arms, the other hand holding a book too close to your face as you scanned the page. You readjusted yourself as one of the books began to slip from the stack and Jake hurried forward.

He eased out the books from your grip and held onto them. You turned and smiled at him, blinking up at him with big eyes that made him feel mushy inside. You stood on your toes and placed the book you were holding on top of the pile Jake was holding, before placing a soft kiss on his cheekbone. Jake’s face flamed red hot. He’d never been kissed on the cheek before and he didn’t know how to react.

“Thanks.” he mumbled and his headmates roared with laughter like an old Hollywood laugh track.

“You’re welcome.” you smiled and turned, walking towards the next shelf, feeling proud of yourself for that move.

“She’s walking you like a dog, mate!” Steven chuckled as Jake began to float behind you again.

“As if you won’t literally pass out if you were fronting.” Jake huffed under his breath.

You frowned at the shelf, realising the book you wanted wasn’t there. You decided to ask Beatrice, the little old lady at the counter to check the records for you. Beatrice was already smiling at you, her favourite regular but there was something odd about her smile.

“Heya, Ms. Bea! I just need a title searched in the system.” you politely asked with a smile.

“Hi, darling, sure.” with a few taps of her keyboard, she announced where the book was and you grinned excitedly, almost uttering your thanks when Beatrice smiled at you again.

“You aren’t going to introduce me to the beautiful boy hiding behind the books?” she asked, and gave you a pointed look and your eyes widened instantly.

“Uh, yea! This is Jake, Jake this is Ms. Beatrice!” you quickly introduced them.

Jake carefully set the books onto the counter and took the lady’s hand, kissing the back of it. Beatrice giggled like a school girl and you gave Jake an exasperated look.

“Oh, dear, I most definitely approve. This one here is a keeper, alright.” Beatrice says and now it was your turn to cosplay a red tomato.

Jake let out a beautiful laugh that ringed deep in your heart.

“Really, trust me, my husband was like you, still is, comes here everyday bringing me lunch. I thought romance was dead but I’m so glad to see it blooming amongst the paths of unsaid words.” Beatrice says, clutching her and to her heart as she looks between the two of you.

Jake and you were frozen to the spot, your eyes as big as owls. You snapped out of it first, thanking Beatrice and pulling Jake with you, who quickly scooped the pile of books in his arms and followed you.

You quickly found your reading corner and sat down, Jake following suit.

“Sorry about Beatrice.” you say after the loud thudding of your heart settled.

“Why are you sorry about Beatrice?” Jake was taken back, out of all the things you could have said, you choose to say that.

“You’re probably weirded out by what she said, about romance and all.” you mumbled, hanging your head.

Jake was still confused at your words, trying to absorb them as silence enveloped the two of you.

“You know what, I really do not know what to say, so I’m just gonna show you.” Jake says, lifting your chin up and leaning towards you before you could make out what was going on.

His lips met yours so gently that you thought he had touched your lips with flower petals. Your eyes were wide open and you struggled to comprehend what was happening. Jake snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you against him, making your mouth drop open with a gentle lick of his tongue. Your eyes fluttered closed and you found yourself losing yourself to the momentum that had been caused by Jake hurling your relationship past the cliff of a very unknown cavern.

You were kissing Jake, you were kissing Jake fucking Lockley.

He pulled away first, keeping his face incredibly close to you.

“Okay, now I know what to say. I’m not the kind that particularly chooses to love romance but I think I’ll be okay if it is with you.” he shrugged. “Besides, I also think I don’t mind you seeing me old and wrinkly like Ms. Bea’s husband.”

You were stunned, this was not the way you intended your day to go. Your eyes welled up in tears and you busied yourself by taking Jake’s hand in yours and kissing his knuckles before holding it close to your chest.

“I was in love with you the second you threw the door of my cab open. Didn’t expect you to call at all, but when you did I felt like I took my heart and threw it at you, to hear your voice through my phone, that was everything to me.” Jake continued, gazing lovingly into your watery eyes.

“I might be in love with you too, Lockley.” you sigh, a teardrop escaping as your eyes closed. “Everynight, you’re in my dreams and you’re my escape.”

Jake let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding and gathered you close. It was going to take a lot to get him away from you. You soon found yourself with your head in his lap, your longing drifting into pure bliss as his soft poetic voice filled the air with beautiful words.

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~

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word-wytch · 1 year

Text

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 9

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 9/? 4.4k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ There are two things you are learning very well — the volumes of a few words, and the impact of a touch.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: mild angst, longing, mild exploration through touch

Frost. The first of the year.

It covered the leaves that littered the parking lot outside your apartment in swirling fractals and crunched beneath your boots.

Barely out of October and you could already feel winter knocking at your door.

The sky was awash in a pale blue-grey as the sun came up behind the overcast clouds. The rain from the weekend brought down most of the leaves, though some of the more reluctant ones still clung to the trees in patches of yellow and orange.

You unlocked the door to your red Chevy Nova and dropped your leather satchel on the passenger’s seat.

The fog that had settled in your mind lifted just enough to get your papers graded. Just enough to get most of the dishes washed. The laundry could wait.

You turned the key in the ignition and — nothing. Well, it wasn’t nothing, there was a clicking that got louder the harder you forced the key forward.

“Come on.”

Had you left your lights on by accident? It wouldn’t be the first time. The lights were turning on though. You threw your weight into the brakes as you turned the key harder. Over and over it whined and whirred and clicked until finally the engine awoke with a rumble.

You blamed the cold.

Happy Monday.

The thing about the fog is that once it settled it was hard to lift completely. You would enter the teacher’s lounge in a daze. You would go through the motions of pouring yourself your second cup of coffee, of finding an open milk carton. Of putting on a bright face and saying hello as you make small talk with the faculty, though your mind was miles away.

You would sit down on the old, threadbare chair at your desk and review your lesson plans for the day while your mind struggled to adjust to the whirring chaos around you. The fuzzy voice over the loudspeaker. The ringing of bells and hundreds of voices echoing off the lockers in the hallway. The teenagers that you were responsible for filtering into your classroom, the energy of this weekend carrying over into their laughter and antics.

You would put on that bright face and pull yourself together, though the fog was thick with thoughts you couldn’t seem to shake. Sometimes you were grateful for the distraction of your class — tangible and in need of attention. Other times the mask got heavy. It was hard to breathe behind. There were times when all you wanted to do was hide, but the mask offered little protection.

At the top of fourth period, you stood at the front of the classroom like you always did, checking little marks by the names in your grading binder as your eyes scanned down the rows. You paused when you got to Eddie’s.

His seat was empty.

Your stomach dropped, as did your face. Everyone’s eyes were on you. You wondered if they noticed the change in your expression.

Maybe he’s just running late.

Maybe he’s sick.

You steadied the pencil in your hand, took a deep breath, and continued on down the rows. Inside your heart was racing, mind spinning with every possibility. It took all of your strength to keep the mask on for your class.

It might have been the longest 50 minutes of your life. When the bell finally relieved you from your post, you barely remembered to grab your purse before your feet carried you briskly, as fast as they could professionally move, down the hallway toward the teacher’s lounge.

You snatched one of the newspapers slumped in a pile on one of the tables and began to tear through it, flipping through the pages with ravenous eyes, looking for something, anything about an accident or a death or his name or anything.

You sensed someone behind you peering over your shoulder. You could almost feel their hot, labored breathing on your neck.

It took little more than a tilt of your head to see who it was. “H-hi Doris,” you said, stilling the paper in your trembling hands.

“Boy I’ve never seen anyone read a paper so fast in my life,” she said dryly. “Watcha lookin’ for?”

You tucked your wild hair behind your ear and pulled yourself together. “Oh, um,” What were you looking for? Would it sound weird to say? Of course it would. Your mind whirred with appropriate and totally not crazy responses. “My— my car was having some trouble this morning and I uh, you know just thought I’d check the paper to see um— uh, a number for a mechanic or something.”

Ms. O’Donnell stared down at the paper. “Good luck finding one in the obituary section.”

“Ha. Very funny,” you said, folding the paper. “Say uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen Eddie today? Was he absent for your class too?”

She huffed, un-phased. “Munson? Haven’t seen him. Honestly I’m more surprised when he shows up.”

“Ah, ok.” You stared down at the paper, the words blurring.

“You know he got a D on the pop quiz I gave on Friday.”

You gave a single nod, lips forming a hard line. “Well, he wasn’t able to study, was he?”

“Course not, it’s a pop quiz. You know I’ve gotta give it to you for trying.”

“Yes, well, so is he,” you said curtly. You left the paper crumpled on the table, turning on your heel toward the door.

Tears burned behind your eyes. You knew it was silly. Maybe that’s why they stung. The whole thing was silly and he was probably just sick like half the school was this time of year. But your feet had their own agenda and that was how you found yourself standing in front of the receptionist in the main office.

“Eddie Munson?” she asked, looking over her paperwork. “No I didn’t get a phone call or anything. I marked him as an unexcused absence.”

“Oh, ok. Thanks for checking.”

“You know, his attendance has actually been… unusually good this year.”

“Yeah— yeah, I know. Thanks anyway.” Head down, you almost ran into Diane as you turned to leave.

“Hey soldier, what brings you to my side of the line?”

“Nothing it’s— it’s stupid. I should get going before my lunch break is over.”

Diane folded her arms across her soft, green cardigan. “What’s up?” she asked gently, guiding you out of the way of incoming traffic. “You seem… upset.”

“It’s really nothing. I’m just…” you glanced around the office.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Your mouth twitched but no words came out.

“Come on, that’s what my office is for.”

Diane led you across the noisy office with all the talking, and phone ringing, and copy machines whirring, through her doorway — into silence.

You sat down and looked around at what everybody else saw when they took this seat — the concrete walls painted a soft peachy-pink. The plants in her window. The few inspirational posters. The warm glow of the three lamps that lit the room. No fluorescents.

Only Diane did not take her usual place behind her desk, instead she took the seat next to you.

“I’m sorry, this is really stupid. Eddie wasn’t in class today, and I— I know it’s like, well so what, but—” you started.

“He’s the one you’ve been tutoring right?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s never been absent before?” Diane asked with a little chuckle, “It’s almost November.”

“Yeah— yeah, I know. It’s really paranoid of me. He just said that he was going to a party this weekend and I—“ you swallowed, glancing away.

Diane’s face dropped. “Oh.” She put her hand on your shoulder. “I know this is a hard holiday for you, but I’m sure he’s fine. You’re just catastrophizing. I understand where it’s coming from though.”

“Yeah— yeah I’m sure you’re right, I just…” you sighed, taking a moment to steady your breath as her hand soothed over your back. “This weekend was… hard. It’s still hard. All day today.”

“That’s the hidden toll of teaching, isn’t it?” Diane mused, “You see these kids every day and you get so… invested in them. It’s an emotional labor, you know?”

You did know. Just like the papers you graded, it was something you took home with you. Even before Eddie. That was the thing about teaching, even after you went home the job never really ended.

“You really care about him, don’t you?”

Her words hung in the air as your stomach dropped, face turning hot. You couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Yes,” you choked out. “I mean I care about all my students,” you added quickly.

If only she knew.

______

Tuesday, October 29th 1985

Eddie slid his plastic lunch tray along the counter as he waited for his turn in the lunch line like some sort of prisoner.

In his mind he was still cruising the freeway, watching state signs pass, watching the upright citizens of the world go about their daily grind as he watched like a spectator from the outside. Just rambling through. That was what he loved most about skipping school — the feeling of being outside, of wondering what sort of bullshit class his friends were having to fight sleep through as he drove on past with a mug full of coffee and a tank full of gas.

His suffering had earned him almost $300 on Saturday and he was bound and determined to put it to good use. He needed a three day weekend after that. Hell, he really needed to just take the whole week but he figured that might be pushing it.

When he saw the look on your face as he entered your class an hour ago, he was grateful that he hadn’t. He would spend the first ten minutes of it running his fingers over the subtle indents that your green grading pen left behind on his test, feeling for your hand through the paper. Feeling the braille of the lines that came together to form the words “I’m proud of you”.

He could count on one hand the number of As he had gotten in his life — this was one of them.

He would spend the next forty minutes of class watching you, as he always did, with his cheek pressed against his knuckles. He would imagine you in his passenger’s seat — cruising down the road with a mug full of coffee and a tank full of gas. How you would bring your own tapes and serenade him with Joni Mitchell’s “Coyote”. How he would much rather be a prisoner of the white lines on the freeway.

The lunch lady took his tray and slapped a helping of overcooked green beans that looked more grey than green, followed by a splat of mashed potatoes and a shriveled pork chop. Eddie was grateful for how generous she was with the gravy, it would help combat the dryness. Yum.

Eddie took the tray and gave a gracious nod before making his way to the head of the Hellfire table.

“Hey man, where were you yesterday?” asked Dustin through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

Eddie plopped both his tray and himself down with a sly smirk. He shed his jacket, revealing the bandage on his forearm.

“Oh shit were you in the hospital or something?” asked Mike.

“No he got a tattoo, you doofus,” laughed Jeff, nudging him with his foot under the table.

Mike rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah that’s super obvious.”

“It is,” Jeff snorted.

“Did you end up getting the sphinx from Powerslave?” asked Dave.

“I actually went with the puppet master, I’ll show you guys tomorrow when I can take this thing off. It’s really sick.” Eddie sawed at the hard, dry pork chop with his knife, stabbing it still with the fork in his other hand.

“So how was um, ‘business’ this weekend?” asked Dustin.

Eddie stopped sawing. He hesitated for a moment, his stomach churning as he recalled what happened. The red in Jason’s eyes as he grabbed him by the shirt. The look on all of their faces staring down at him.

Gareth caught his eyes. “Everybody keep an eye out for Jason Carver and any of his bitchboys. They have it out for Eddie,” he interjected.

The table erupted in questions.

“Why, what happened?” asked Dustin.

“Do we need to make them pay?” Dave cracked his knuckles.

“No— no we’re gonna just lay low but keep an eye out for them. Chrissy keeps talking to Eddie and Jason’s being a jealous little bitch about it. Keep an eye out for her too,” answered Gareth.

Eddie felt the pressure release in his chest and gave Gareth a gracious look. He caught the remorse in his eyes. There was another thing that Eddie was relieved by — he left out the part about you.

“Shitheads just being shitheads,” said Eddie finally. “But uh, Gareth’s night wasn’t so shitty,” he prompted with a raise of his eyebrows, changing the subject.

The table shifted audibly.

Gareth smirked. “Yeah Cindy gave me her number.”

Cheers, elbow jabs, and banging on the table came from all directions. Eddie smiled at his friend, full and genuine.

“I called her last night.”

More eruptive cheers. Louder this time.

“What did she say?”

“How’d it go?”

“Did you ask her out?”

“Woah, easy boys, one question at a time,” Gareth chided gently, raising his hands. “I haven’t asked her out yet. We just talked about movies and stuff. I’m trying to feel it out, you know? Gotta take it slow, I don’t wanna scare her away,” he laughed. “It went good though, we talked for like an hour.”

“You should take her to see Goonies,” Dustin suggested.

“She’s already seen Goonies, plus that’s like… is that really a date movie? What kind of movies are date movies?”

Dave snorted, “Stupid movies.”

“Yeah take her to A Room With a View,” Jeff laughed.

“Ew that’s like, serious isn’t it?”

“How ‘bout Rocky IV, that’s romantic,” offered Dustin through a snicker.

“No—no wait the new National Lampoon’s,” Mike chortled.

“Really helpful, thanks guys.”

Eddie chuckled distantly, taking a stab at his green beans. He glanced over toward the door to the teacher’s lounge, across the expanse of the noisy cafeteria. Somewhere behind that wall you too were at a table, eating lunch by yourself in a room full of people. He wondered if you felt as lonely as he did sometimes, a loneliness in feelings that weren’t appropriate to share.

______

Eddie sifted through the contents of his locker, hunting for his chemistry textbook amongst the chaos of loose papers without homes. The door, which shielded him in part from the noisy hallway, was stark. There were remnants of stickers inside from previous occupants, but aside from the papers with his name on it, there was no trace of Eddie Munson. He remembered his first few lockers here, how keen he was to leave his mark on them, to slap Iron Maiden and Slayer stickers on the inside that future occupants would have to scrape to get off. He was less keen to make a home of his sixth.

“Hey Eddie.”

He recognized the voice. Powder soft and sugar sweet, it was twinged with a tentative sadness. He took one look at Chrissy Cunningham and shut his locker, turning away.

“Eddie, wait,” she pleaded, chasing after him.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” he said sharply, keeping his pace.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she admitted, her white tennis shoes hitting the tile in quick succession to keep up with his much larger gait.

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“I— I just wanted to apologize.”

Eddie gave a sharp puff of air through his nose and slowed his pace.

“I’m really sorry about Saturday. I was really drunk, I didn’t mean to get you in any trouble.”

Eddie stopped, turning to her sharply. “Yeah? Well, the longer you stand here and talk to me, the closer I am to getting in trouble again, so…”

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you have,” he said curtly, turning away. His feet carried him briskly down the hall, leaving her in the gust of air he left behind.

It might have stopped her feet from following him then, but it didn’t stop her eyes from following as they searched for his across the room in chemistry class.

He would try to avoid them, but eventually the searing heat of her gaze got the best of him. He would concede, and when he did catch a glance of those green eyes from across the room he would think about the time he saw them last. Red and heavy lidded. He would think about the way she stumbled off that couch. The way she crumbled under the weight of Jason’s voice.

So he would concede and meet her eyes for just a moment from across the classroom. Behind them, equal parts desire and remorse.

______

How would you describe Eddie Munson? You had been asking yourself this question since your first encounter after school.

There were the obvious things — Plush lips. Strong chin. Soft nose. A jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Big brown eyes like a baby cow. Wild ringlets that framed his face and cascaded down his shoulders.

Then, more subtly — A summer wind. Restless and frenetic, but soft all at once. Soft in the comfortable silence that sometimes fell between you. The silence of listening. There was warmth in him too — the kind of warmth that colored the brightness of his voice when the silence was broken. He was wild, and warm, and restless, and magnetic all at once. A summer wind.

It was a question you would ask yourself after every encounter. Each time you would come away with something more.

What you did know for certain today was that nothing compared to the sight of his sweet face as he took the seat across from you.

“It’s good to see you,” you said. As if that even scratched the surface.

“Yeah, you too.” His eyes held yours as he shed his jacket around the chair. He leaned forward in it, resting his arms on the desk between you.

You were just happy to see the pink in his cheeks, the extra fluff in his hair today. You could smell the product in it even from across the desk. Your fingers occupied themselves with the pen in front of you. “I was… worried about you. On Monday.”

His eyes widened. “Shit, I’m really sorry about that,” he lamented. You could tell that he meant it too. “I was uh, getting this.” He presented his forearm with a cheeky grin.

You looked down at the inky black lines on his skin. At the gnarled hand grasping a wooden marionette cross with strings hanging down. You followed them down to what appeared to be some sort of zombie or undead creature hanging from them.

Your eyes lit up like Christmas. “Aren’t those… illegal here?” you asked in a crazed little whisper, the look on your face was wild and fascinated.

“Only in Indiana.” You could hear the mischief in his voice. “I drove to Illinois to get it. That’s why I had to take the whole day.”

You had to laugh. And you did. “Well I’m glad you’re safe. I guess it was… silly of me to worry so much.”

“No— no I should have at least called in and made up some bullshit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re ok. That’s all that matters.” You looked down at his arm again, at the dark, angry lines across his reddened skin. “Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, it always does a little. This one wasn’t so bad. I have others.” His dark eyes flashed at you as he hooked his fingers over the collar of his shirt, exposing the ink under his collarbone. “This one hurt the worst,” he said with a soft smirk. His hand lingered there, an offering to your eyes.

You cursed the animal inside you. The one that growled from deep within your abdomen and crawled its way into your cheeks. The one that whispered about what your lips might feel like on the skin that he exposed for you.

“O—oh yeah I can see why that would hurt.” Your eyes diverted back to his arm, tracing the lines with your eyes. You brought your face closer to examine, but you were more interested in the velvet skin of his forearm. How something could be strong and soft all at once. Your fingers twitched above it.

“You can touch it,” he said. An offering — an experience. His voice was barely above a whisper.

Your eyes met his. Hesitant, you accepted, lowering your fingers slowly, then your eyes. He was so warm and impossibly soft. You were almost afraid he would feel your pulse pounding through your fingertips as they traced tentative, delicate patterns across his skin.

There was a gentle puff of air against your face as he sighed at the contact.

It took courage to look up at him, but when you did he held your gaze with an intensity that made you shudder.

“Sorry, my fingers are cold,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” His voice was gentle, distant, like a trance. “It feels… nice actually.”

You lowered your eyes again, and then more of your fingers across his warm, velvet skin, sliding slowly up and down the solid expanse of his forearm. You could feel the tendons, the soft brush of hair at the edges.

“Does it still hurt?” you asked softly.

“Yeah, a little. Kind of itches more than anything now.”

His palm was facing up at you, so close to the heat of your body. His long fingers twitched.

You should have pulled away. You knew you should and you were trying but his skin was like a magnet and you could not bring yourself to do it. It was too painful.

“How was the party?” you asked as a knot twisted in your stomach.

He huffed and shook his head, “Pretty shitty if I’m being honest.”

The knot released a little. “That bad huh?”

His eyes widened, giving a crazed little look, “Yeah, it was that bad.”

“What happened?”

His brow furrowed as he searched for the words, “Just… drama I guess — involving a certain, uh, basic primate. It’s really stupid, honestly.”

Your fingers pressed concern against his arm, ever so subtly. “Jason?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, casting his gaze away. “Yeah, he’s a real dick. Anyway, like I said, it’s stupid.”

You wanted to press on, but it seemed like he didn’t care to elaborate.

“I was worried about you, at the party,” you said softly. And then you did something bold, as if possessed by a force stronger than your noble mind — you lowered your palm.

You could feel his approving hum through your hand, the vibrations rippling from under his velvet skin.

“I knew you would be. I was extra careful.” His eyes flitted up to yours. “For you.”

It was the seriousness of his tone that stirred you most. The earnest, deadpan look on his face, like there were volumes behind those two words.

It opened up a narrow passage, and you entered with the boldest thing that you had ever said.

“I really care for you.”

You wondered if he could feel your pulse hammering against his arm, feel your hand start to sweat. Your fingers twitched, mind racing with second-guessing. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You lifted your hand to remove it, but then he did something that surprised you.

His hand below you gripped your arm.

“No—no,” he soothed, his eyes meeting yours in earnest. “It’s ok.”

Time stopped — frozen as he held you in his gaze. You might have thought your heart stopped too had it not been so audibly pounding in your ears.

“I care for you too,” he admitted.

The breath that was caught in your chest released, and with his permission, you relaxed into the touch. You squeezed his arm gently — a gesture he returned, and heavy sigh escaped both of you at once.

It was only a moment, but there a whisper, no — a bold admission in the quiet of the air between you.

He smiled at you. Breathy and crooked, a wild warmth in his eyes. And for one stolen moment the fear that had nestled itself deep within your chest melted away.

The animal inside you stirred, stretching outward like a yawn, up into your neck and cheeks again. It was warm this time. Comfortable now.

The world around you fell away. The concrete walls, and clocks, and bells, and chalkboards ceased to exist. There was nothing else that mattered except hands on skin across the great divide of the desk lodged between you.

Your mouth twitched but words would not come. You feared that if they did the spell would break.

Eddie was much braver.

“I wish you could have come. To the party. I mean like, hypothetically, not… realistically. But like, another party. I— I don’t know. Sorry that sounds really stupid,” he said with a little chuckle. His arm remained locked to yours, curious fingers wandering across your skin.

“No it’s not, I— I wish I could have gone too. Hypothetically. I would have had a much better Saturday night than I did on my own, trust me,” you said with a pained laugh.

He shook his head, thumb rubbing electric circles on your arm. “Oh I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” you said.

And with that Eddie did something even braver — his palm traced its way down your arm until it found your hand. He held it in his for a moment, warm, calloused thumb soothing over your knuckles. You could feel those bones again, those strong fingers that held you steady as you threatened to tremble.

It was only for a moment. But in this moment there were two things that were abundantly clear for both of you —

1. It felt too good to stop.

2. That things would never be the same.

______

A/N: Well, well — we have an admission! After quite possibly the longest October in history, time is going to start moving a little more quickly now that our forbidden lovebirds are on the same page. We've still got some more hurdles to navigate, but strap in as we prepare for liftoff! 🚀

Another note, I will be closing my taglist. Those of you who are already on it will remain tagged, but anyone else who wants to keep following the story can just follow me (as I would sincerely hope you all are) and turn on notifications.

A smaller note — I have given Freak #3 the name of Dave.

As always, I deeply appreciate any and all comments -- keyboard smashing, theories, small novels, all of it. Hearing your reactions to my story fuels me in ways that I can only begin to tell you.

Please reblog and help others to find my precious creation! ✨

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @mantorokk-writes @loveshotzz @newlips @chainsawmunson @trashmouth-richie @carolmunson @wordscomehither @alottanothing @bebe0701 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bibieddiesgf @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @shotgunhallelujah @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @luna-munson83 @eddiemunsonsbitcch @tlclick73 @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @blue-mossbird @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @big-ope-vibes @ruby-dragon @ladylilylost @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @quinnsfineline @chaoticgood-munson @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @emily-roberts @averagemisfit03

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson older reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x teacher!reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson angst #don't stand so close to me

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cherrylovelycherry · 6 months

Text

506

pairing: childe x fem!reader cw/genre: ex-lovers, angst? masterlist! requests open!

A break-up is always painful for both parties. However, there is always one who feels it more.

The memory of his ex-girlfriend was present, even when it was time to get up, Childe looked hurriedly at the screen of his mobile phone.

No message, no call.

He sighed, lying back on his bed, closing his eyes.

Delicate, soft kisses full of love, being deposited on that freckled face of his. Being the weekend, he slept in later.

"So cute.", she thought. Running a hand through her hair, brushing away red locks that covered her face.

At the sudden touch, feeling tickled, he opened one eye first. Seeing his beloved girlfriend, there, beside him, he grinned like a fool. Stretching his arms out in her direction, grabbing her and pulling her against his chest.

The need to write to him tormented him, he rubbed his face in his pillow, trying to make those memories fade.

His bed empty, the curtains closed wide. No light in the room.

He reluctantly got up to go to breakfast, he wasn't hungry, but her insistent voice nagging him to eat had become a habit.

Hands intertwined, sidelong glances, two young people in love, each sitting firmly on the furniture, unable to cut the distance. Afternoons pretending to watch television.

He grabbed his mobile phone, inhaling and exhaling three times in a row, his hands trembling for a moment. Would it be okay if…?

He was masochistic and went through the photos he still kept in his phone's gallery. Pictures of the two of them in another country. "Will she still be travelling there like every holiday?" he wondered.

His smile lingered for a few moments longer.

Her hand felt like it was sweating, she looked at her boyfriend, being so calm and even eating a huge airport burger. She even felt nauseous from the nerves of flying. She tightened her grip on his arm now, as she checked in, the urge to go to a nice beach gone. But no, she convinced herself, he gave her lots of kisses and caresses as they sat in the plane seats, keeping her as relaxed as possible.

He did, he sent a message. He saved the number again, as a new contact. He mentally thanked himself for having stuck the paper with his number on it on the fridge.

A simple; "How are you?" was all he sent.

He felt nervous, tousling his hair with both hands.

Four hours passed, he sent another message again.

"I don't know why but I thought of you both," he sent, followed by a picture of two kittens.

Sent. The status of the messages was just sent.

The number of his flat he promised to remember forever. 506. The street where his heart lived. Where he spent more time than in his own home. With 16, where everything changed and started.

A new day, another "How are you?" message. Soon he started leaving calls, not expecting a reply, just letting her know he was there.

Little by little, becoming routine in three months.

Five missed calls, four letters, three injuries, two lucky ones.

Every once in a while, Childe would stop by the coffee shop where they would have a nice oatmeal biscuit and a hot chocolate in the middle of winter. As well as passing the bar, where they fought over drinking each other's glass, the fight ended in laughter and jokes.

He never expected a response.

Kissing in the rain after playing catch, feeling like little kids, not caring that people looked at them strangely for being in the pouring rain. A bit cliché, but theirs.

The memory of why he fell in love, remembering what made her fall in love.

A routine phone call.

Y/N was sitting on a bench, washing her boyfriend's hair, who had fallen ill. Caring for him with so much love, even though she would probably end up getting sick too.

Sneaking into his bed, on a summer night. Kisses on her forehead from him. His turn to watch her sleep so peacefully.

He was dying to hear her voice. As if it was his lucky day, he was about to hang up. However, the opposite phone was answered.

A "Hello?" from her was enough to trigger feelings that were supposed to be locked away. It felt the same, nothing changed.

The words he thought of for this moment, with no hope that it would come, were completely forgotten.

"How are you? Are you still living in 506?"

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin x reader #childe angst #childe x reader #ex lovers #genshin tartagalia #tartaglia #ajax x reader #genshin ajax #childe genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact

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swearingcactus · 7 months

Text

borrowing showers past bedtimes

remember the little thing i wrote the other day about v borrowing kerry's shower? yeah i finished it, somewhat, decided it was still relatively short (2k) and too plotless for an ao3 post. so woe, fic be upon ye. (under the cut)

It seemed like it took forever until V’s incessant knocking on Villa Eurodyne’s front door got it to swing open.

Speaking of the door, when the fuck did Kerry even get his front door fixed anyway? They had tried to fix it on a random weekend when V came over, but it kept opening stubbornly no matter what they did. And then Kerry had gotten so mad and tried to rip the door of its hinges, so they dropped the effort altogether. And–

“Oh, shit.” Kerry’s voice brought him back to the present and V blinks to realize Kerry’s looking at him with wide eyes. He pulls down his headphones he had on to his neck. His previous annoyance at being bothered in his house at this hour slipping rapidly into shocked worry at the sight of a merc covered in blood and mud and who knows what else, standing with his arms and feet a shoulder apart.

“Hey Ker, wha‘sup, sorry for bargin’ in so late at night,” V says, words stumbling over the other like a trainwreck, then he gets to the point, “Can I please borrow your shower?”

“Jesus, of course,” Kerry says, and then jerkily opens the door wider like he just remembered he could do that.

“‘m not Jesus, I’m V.” V mumbled out absent-mindedly. He whacks his arm before he gets in, some blood and bits of flesh fell off the sleeves of his jacket, squelching to the floor.

“Do you need a ripper?” Kerry asked. V drags his feet onto the concrete in hopes it’ll lessen the blood stains when he walks in the house.

“Oh, nah, I’m fine. This isn’t mine.” V says, just realizing how this must’ve looked. “I’ve been out the whole day in the rain, went from the badlands then back, got a gig near here.” V walked further into the house, avoiding the items still strewn about the floor. “Got messy. Normal shootout stuff, grenades, the like, then just–” he makes a psh-SHOOO noise with his mouth as he creates an over-exaggerated motion of an explosion with his hands.

“Gonk had a grenade on him and pulled the wrong pin.”

Kerry lets out an amused, morbid chuckle. V thinks that’s nice; he’d probably laugh about it too. If he hadn’t spent the entire day being scorched and sweating under the Badlands sun, hit by dust and dirt. Then got whacked with a storm that came out of nowhere. Then trekked his way up here just to get blasted in the face with someone’s guts. He smelled like garbage and felt so grossed out, but he was still ready to spend the entire ride back to Watson feeling like complete shit… only to find that the earlier shootout had blown off his Yaiba’s fuel tank.

But yeah, he’s fine! He’s totally not gonna lose it if he can’t claw his way out of his clothes within the next 5 minutes. But just in case, he excuses himself to the shower and practically ran in.

–

V's buck-ass naked in Kerry's shower. It's a huge shower, taking up 30% of the entire bathroom and the bathroom itself is bigger than his apartment. And now the large space and the great ventilation is getting him cold. He rubs a foot on top of the other, trying to warm the palms of his feet. He goes to pick up another soap from the rows and rows of product that Kerry had, all lined up.

It took less time to decide on a shampoo to use earlier because there were only two options, and even though he should probably peruse the purple shampoo dedicated to keep hair dye to shine and all that... he had decided to use the one Kerry probably forgot at the back. It had dust on its lid but smelled powdery.

Johnny crackles, all blue pixels and blurs of light, leaning on the glass window next to him. "Occupied, asshole." V says, gesturing to himself. "Also, ever heard of privacy?"

"You lost your privacy rights the second you took longer than 10 minutes to decide on a soap to use. At least start the water. This isn't your megabuilding, Kerry can pay the hot water bills."

Johnny made a good point, but V opted to ignore Johnny for now, as he often does. Instead, he opens another soap bottle and sniffs it experimentally. He could tell this was Kerry's go-to soap. Smelled like mint and perfumed musk. He reads the name of the scent. Gold Desire.

"Oh fucking... his pretentious ass needs a beating." Johnny grumbles. V snorts and closes the bottle. It's a scent reminiscent of Kerry, which V doesn't hate, of course. But the idea of smelling like Kerry didn't sit right with him.

A little too domestic. A little like he's playing pretend as someone's cute little input who's enjoying the high life for years by now. A little too much like wearing a costume. He's already had enough of the idea of turning into someone he's not without a stupid soap doing it for him.

He goes to sniff the next soap and dry-heaves. It smelled overwhelmingly like burning plastic that's vaguely presented with artificial strawberry and vanilla. He coughs and puts it away.

“At this point your clothes are gonna finish being washed before you do.” Johnny complains, glitching away and popping up, squatting on top of the washing machine dramatically.

V picks up another soap, “Oh Johnny, gross, you cummed in this one.”

“I what.”

“Look, ‘Rockerboy’s Wet Dream.’” V says, grinning and showing off a green bottle. Johnny rolls his eyes and pretend-flicked his cigarette’s ash onto the floor.

V continues to read the bottle, “’Citrus and Red Chili.’ Wonder how that smells combined.” V sniffs it, “Spicy!” he announced to Johnny who has now resorted to softly banging his head on the wall behind him. V decided he could just use this one and goes to turn the water on.

He enjoys how it immediately produced the perfect temperature without him even needing to fiddle with the settings or wait. Some fancy tech that detects his temperature and automatically sets the most suitable one for him once his feet hit the shower tiles.

He pours a hefty amount, wincing at how the bottle wheezed and dropped a slimy gel-like substance with beads of scrubs– which hurt when he started to slather it up. Before the contact with skin promptly starts to burn. Granted he has never used a high-end soap with an exfoliator and whatnot, but V doubts it’s supposed to hurt this much.

V picks the bottle up again to inspect it, hoping to see if maybe he’s just using it wrong or something… when he noticed a manufacture date at the top of the cap. He froze in fear. “Holy shit. This was produced before I was even born. Why the hell do Kerry even keep this around.”

He chucks the bottle to the trash bin to the far end of the room. It missed and hit the wall, bouncing onto the floor. V scrubs the rest of the offending soap on him, almost panickedly.

“You can shower with my actual cum, ‘ll hurt less.” Johnny offers mockingly, getting in the stall with him. V elbows him hard, even if he glitches away before it made any believable contact.

“Give it a couple second and you’ll feel the burn too, see if you can joke then.” V grumbles. He takes a long deep breath and spends the next few breaths just watching as the bubbles get washed along with the grime and mud that starts to melt onto the floor along with the hot water. Shoulders slowly slumping as the events of the day start to catch up and some new bruises and cuts make their presence known. He cards his fingers onto his hair and plop goes the pieces of brain matter and what could’ve been an eighth of an eye. He kicks it down the drain, and blindly takes a random bottle.

This one’s still filled to the brim. He opened it to find it still sealed, even. He struggles to open it with his nails and managed to do so... sacrificing some nail paint in the process. He sniffed it almost dejectedly. Before perking up, pleasantly surprised with its unfamiliar but sweet scent.

"Huh.." he says, taking it away to properly read what it was. "Coconut and basil."

"Do you even know what a coconut looks like?" Johnny accused, out of nowhere.

"Sure I do. It's brown, kinda round looking. Floats. Not sure what a basil actually is though." V answers easily, and finally sets the soap next to the shampoo he had picked, and gets to showering in peace.

V stepped out of the bathroom feeling like an actual human again for once, shaking his hair onto the towel roughly to dry it.

"Ker?" he calls out. He hears a faint tune being repeatedly played and walks to the far end of the first floor. Kerry sat with his back to V, with his headphones in, frowning at a computer. He had a guitar in one hand while his other hand was covering his mouth, a finger tapping onto his lips.

Kerry glanced over when he noticed V in his peripheral vision and says, "Hey," but his focus quickly turns back to the computer.

V steps next to him to plant a kiss on the top of his head. "Thanks for the shower." (He could feel Johnny rolling his eyes, making pretend-barfing motions. V made a huge point to tell him to fuck off.)

"No problem," Kerry says, obviously still distracted.

"Busy?" V asks, knowing the answer but thinking he should probably still ask it.

Kerry doesn't really answer, just hums vaguely, somewhat affirmatively.

V spreads his toes out on the floor, feels that it’s dusty, still haven’t been properly vacuumed since god knows when. He shifts his weight. "... Anything I can help with?" He offers. It's a long shot but sometimes Kerry asks his opinion on song lyrics, even though V kinda guessed it's less of asking an opinion and more of showing off an unfinished piece he’s still proud of.

As he expected, the shot fell short of its mark when Kerry replies with a clear, resounding, "No." and by then V knows he's maxed out trying to get a conversation out of Kerry.

He goes to leave Kerry alone.

–

V checks his clothes to see it had finished its spin cycle and is now being dried. Still a couple hours to go. He goes back out and climbs to the second floor, trying to find something to wear in the meantime. Kerry’s a little shorter than him, (“Not by much.” Johnny annoyingly pointed out.) Fine, Kerry’s only a little shorter than him, but his clothes mostly consisted of leather or something so cropped, might as well just go nude.

There were some hoodies, though, large unassuming jackets Kerry bought in bulk to hide from media vultures. Big enough it makes his boxers look shorter than it actually is. V decides to borrow one, goes to bite and suck one of the hood’s strings immediately once he slipped it on.

He leans over the second floor to check up on Kerry from above. Kerry tapped the space bar so hard V swears it’ll crack. He starts grumbling unhappily, then goes to fiddle another tune on the guitar. Yikes. Better leave him alone for now.

“Derivative!” Johnny yells about the tune, over the railing.

If Kerry could actually hear him there would be a bloodbath.

V passed Kerry’s bed and goes back down to the first floor, sitting on the sofa. Kerry stops playing the guitar with an uncomfortable screech and whines loudly.

“Tell him try changing it to a minor tune.” Johnny says. V frowns at him, not sure if he’s actually offering genuine musical help or if he’s just fucking around to try and rile Kerry up. Either way, V knows Kerry wouldn’t appreciate any unwarranted advice at this stage. Johnny clicks his tongue, because he knows it too, he just doesn’t like not letting everyone know what he thinks.

V goes to lean back, only to sit up straight again, looking back and noticing there’s a bong stuck behind him. He pulled it out, then sighs at the mess. Before standing up and picking up empty and half-filled glasses to the kitchen to stick them in the dish washer. He continued to throw out two thongs wedged in the sofa. Wipe the counter from the sticky, spilled alcoholic drinks and their mixers.

It took a while until the sofa and the coffee table in front of it looked nice enough, and V sits and slumps himself onto it in satisfaction, letting the sofa’s crevice swallow him as much as it could.

–

"Hey, what're you doing here?" Kerry asks, gently shaking him to wake him up.

V blinks blearily awake, takes a second to realize where he's at. Then at the question. Wanted to wait up for you sounds too cheesy suddenly and V decides to just shrug.

"You cleaned my place up." Kerry says appreciatively.

"Nnno, just the sofa area." V points out, then yawns, putting his hand into a fist and using his knuckles to cover it. Kerry lets out an 'Awww' kind of sound and V stopped yawning immediately, frowning up at him. Kerry stopped cooing, and grinned, "Come on, let's get you to an actual bed, huh?"

He pulls V up and leads him to the second floor onto the bed. V falls into it immediately, rolling so he can plant his face down onto the biggest pillow Kerry had, while Kerry went off to turn off most of the lights on the switch on the wall.

V doesn't need to see to know when Kerry shuffled into bed when the bed dips next to him. He puts a hand out to feel for Kerry and when his fingers found contact on skin, he scoots closer.

"D'aww," Kerry says again cut off harshly when V pokes his ribs, hard. "Hey you don't want me to think you're cute? Stop being cute."

"Thought you said I was a brat?" V coyly asked.

Kerry lets out a huff, "Alright, down, boy. Way past your bedtime for that."

"Sounds like I need some punishi--" V couldn't help a yawn before he could finish that sentence, "Yeah, point taken." He shuffles again, a leg lands on top of Kerry's before settling. “Sorry I bothered you while you were doing your song.” He says to Kerry’s arm.

Kerry lets out a soft laugh again, rubs the point of contact between his fingers and V's upper arm, “Yeah if you were anyone else, I would’ve told you to fuck off. Consider it a privilege that you got me away from my set and I’m still letting you on my bed.”

“Yay, privilege!” V whoops softly. “Always wanted to know what that feels like.”

Kerry snorted again. They went quiet and V thought that was the end of it. Until Kerry adds, “You know you don’t have to…” he stops like he thought better than to say it. V opens his eyes to look up at Kerry, telling him to go on.

Put on the spot, Kerry begrudgingly continues, “I dunno, just… you know I’m here for you, right? So.. I dunno, V, maybe next time, you could just think of coming over in the first place instead of it being an alternative plan? And, ugh, I know how this might sound to– Look, I’m not saying this ‘cus I’m jealous or, or clingy, okay, I know you got your own thing. Look, you don’t have to act all awkward and proper ‘round me, ‘s all. I mean, come on, V, it’s just me.”

“Uh-huh.” V says, though he doesn’t really get what that’s all about. He shuffles and drops his head back to its original position, closing his eyes. He’s falling asleep again, and he fights to hear what Kerry’s saying next, it gets jumbled into one hazy tune. Something about time, and them being friends, sometimes a little more, something about worrying about not hearing something…

He snuggled to Kerry’s arm again, concludes Kerry’s probably just stressed about the piece. So, he sleepily asks, “Didja finish it though? The song.”

“Huh?” Took a few seconds for Kerry to realize what he’s asking, “Oh… Nope. Gave up on it for tonight.”

“Should try changing it to minor key.” V hears himself say without him actually thinking it, then he groans quietly. He kicks the engram mentally, mumbles out, “Oh, shut up, Johnny…”

“Yeah, shut up, Johnny.” Kerry echoes immediately. But there’s a slight moment where V thinks Kerry’s arm had tensed a tiny bit, before relaxing, as he leaned into V’s hair. Then, "You smell nice."

Thanks, it's coconut and basil. V thinks he says, but he's not sure because he conked out within milliseconds. He thinks that for tomorrow, in-between getting home, and doing gigs, and finding leads about the relic, he’ll try to figure out what a basil actually is.

Author's Note: yeah so coconut and basil huh. The coconut that goes around getting bobbed by the sea but floats with the flow. The basil that could mean anything from a token to ward off the devil to a symbol of love. Also smells great together as a body wash. Fun! Maybe Kerry'll think there's poetry in it if V shared it the next day.

#cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne #johnny silverhand #lil guy v #writingcactus #gonna have to go and find my other ficlets to tag with that augh #i drew this tag

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my-soupy-brain · 4 months

Note

need Ted to take care of me, feeling so low :(

Boy, do I feel this one. I'm with you, friend. This request might be a tad older now - I hope you're feeling better. And if you're not, I hope you do. And if this helps, I'm glad to offer the service. I'm writing this for both of us, all of us, who need some help.

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: Mental health (depression), comfort, care

---

Depression feels like a fucking storm cloud. Just hogging up every corner of your mind with rain. A thick, heavy humidity that just brings sheets of rain.

It matched the London skies, a bit. Which delighted you in a sense. It was easier to stay in bed, on the couch, under blankets, when the sun wasn't shining.

Your eyes were puffy and red from crying. Over what? You're not sure. it doesn't matter. Because that's not how depression works.

Hills and valleys, right? That's life. This was a dark, cloudy valley. So be it.

You hadn't eaten in... well, you don't really remember. A handful of crisps here and there, a piece of bread. Enough to sustain you.

Shower? What the hell is a shower?

You'd spent the weekend like this and then called into work on Monday. It's Tuesday morning, and you just sent an email to Keeley to let her know you still weren't feeling well.

"You sure you're okay, babe?" Keeley texted back worriedly.

"I'll be fine," you answered, throwing your phone on the couch and stumbling back into your bed.

...

At Nelson Road, Ted's big, brown eyes were bunched in worry.

"Keeley? You seen y/n around?"

Keeley shook her head. "She took today off again."

"She okay?"

Keeley shrugged her shoulders gently. "She said she was, but something feels off."

Ted nodded and headed down the hallway, hands in his pockets, head down, thinking, as he walked into his office. Beard was talking to Roy about something, and Ted stared at his phone.

"Ted?"

Ted looked up and tried to listen.

"She's not here again, huh?" Beard said, practically reading his best friend's mind, as always. Ted shook his head.

"No, took today off again. She's been out since Friday. I'm worried."

Ted had enough on his plate to worry about. Your being out of the office shouldn't be one of them. But he missed your chats, your coffee, your bright laugh, your smile.

You're one of the few people around here who really get him. And he likes that about you. Along with your kindness. Your quick wit. How you've listened to his anxieties and been a friend in need.

...

It was mid-afternoon when your phone chimed on the couch. Too far to get it. Who cares.

It chimed again. And again.

Still too far away. No way in hell were you leaving this little cocoon you'd created for yourself.

Ding-dong.

The fucking doorbell? Make 'em ring again. Maybe they'll go away.

Ding-dong. Ding-dong!

Two in a row sounds...aggressive. You pull yourself off your bed, wrapped in your blanket, and shuffle to the door.

The handle turns, and on the other side is a slightly damp Ted Lasso under the pouring London rain with an umbrella.

"Hey, Ted, c'mon in," you say, moving away from the door, leaving it open for him to step through.

Ordinarily, your stomach would be fluttering with him in your space. His woodsy cologne, his soft smile, the way he tucks that one loose tendril of hair back into his mane.

You'd be more embarrassed by the dishes piled in the sink, the records on the floor in disarray, the clothes on the floor strewn from the living room to your bedroom, the piles of papers and books laid haphazardly on the coffee table.

But you don't much care. Not right now.

"Y/N?" Ted asked, stepping into the living room of your flat, his eyes still big and worried.

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

"Nah."

You shuffled toward the couch and sat down. Your messy, unwashed hair in a messy updo, half-up and half-down from not caring. Your tshirt hung off your shoulders, your cheeks a bit hollow and pale from not eating, not seeing the sun.

You stared at the TV, the Netflix banner rotating in front of you, like it's done for hours.

Ted nervously sat on the other end of the couch, afraid to approach you. Not sure what to...

His eyes shot over to you when he heard you gasp. Heavy sobs leaving your chest, your lungs. Almost a hiccup of tears pouring out of you. Your cheeks turned red, the tears fell in hot, heavy, salty drops down your cheeks.

Without a second breath, his arms were around you, tucking you against him, his voice soothing a soft "Shhh" - not to get you to stop crying but to help you calm your breathing.

"Breathe, shh, breathe, darlin'," Ted said quietly, the words rattling in your brain like a loose ping-pong ball.

You let yourself cry, cry, cry. And cry.

Ted's arms wrapped around you. He could feel your wet eyes against his neck, and he closed his eyes and let himself melt against you.

"Darlin'...you wanna talk about it?" he asked gently. "You don't have to, but I'll listen."

You cried some more, and Ted hugged you tighter. If he could squeeze the sadness out of you, he'd try.

He felt your body shake in his arms, under his hands.

His warmth became...a balm.

As you started to quiet, his hands rubbed down your back, tucked your hair behind your ear, his lips against your forehead, not kissing it - though he was tempted.

"It's okay, I'm here. I'll listen, if that's what would help," he offers in his low voice and drawl.

When you pull away, he sees the puffy, red, tired eyes. Despite all the sleep, you still look like you've not rested well in days.

Your lip quivers, you look down. Ted holds your hand.

And it all pours out.

How you feel like a failure at work. How lonely you've been. How sleep never seems to rest you. How incredibly insecure you feel about yourself.

Ted couldn't believe it. He heard the words, and couldn't understand.

Wonderful you.

The way your smile lit up his day. Your playful laugh. How witty you were. How damn generous you were with your time, care, and attention.

He squeezes you tighter to his chest.

As your litany of self-flagellation starts to quiet, he lets you both breathe. His heartbeat against your ear steadies your breath.

"I'mma tell you somethin'," Ted says with a soft voice, his thick drawl evident.

"You're damn good at what you do, at work. You make my job a heckuva lot easier with the press with those releases you put out, and the fires you put out," he adds, his large hand running down your back.

"And I'm sorry you're lonely. But I want to remind ya, you ain't really alone. Not with the family at the club, anyway. We're all here for ya, even if we aren't blood family..."

You nod and sigh.

"And I care about you in more ways than I can express, but we don't gotta talk about that right now..."

Your heart flips a bit at this.

"But you do need to know that your kindness, your gentleness, the way you treat the people around you..."

Ted clears his throat.

"You're one of the best people I've ever met."

Your mouth opens to speak, but he continues.

"My day ain't complete until I see that smile of yours. To know you're smilin' when you're hurtin' like this, well... you're just damn courageous. Add that to the list of amazin' things about ya."

Your lips quirk up slightly.

"You make me laugh. But most importantly, you make people - and me - feel seen. Understood. I ain't never have anyone be so good to me when I'm goin' through my stuff as you have."

You hold Ted a little tighter as his voice breaks. Ted squeezes back.

"I care about ya. And I'm not gonna let you sink with this, ya hear me? I'm here, and I'm gonna help ya like you've helped me."

When he feels you nod he looks down at you and smiles. Your eyes are tired, bleary, and your body feels like it ran a marathon.

"Why don't we get you to bed?"

You nod weakly as he helps you up to your room. Once you're stretched out on the mattress, your eyes practically fall shut with lead weights. Sleep. Finally.

...

In the morning, your eyes blink open. Your depression hasn't vanished but your heart admittedly feels lighter. And you can breathe a little easier.

As you come awake, you notice the clothes in your room put away, or folded on your chair.

The bathroom is tidied.

When you step into the living room, you can see the kitchen has been cleaned, and the dishes done. Your records are put away. Everything orderly. Tidy.

And a sleeping, soft-haired Ted Lasso on your couch, in an undershirt and his sweatpants, snoozing away with the remote in his hand.

He stayed. He stayed on all night. Taking care of you.

You decide to shower - finally. Another thing put off too long. And it feels good to wash away the sadness down the drain a bit more. When you change back into cozy clothes, you see Ted is still snoring softly.

A neatly folded throw blanket gets unfolded.

You slide in front of Ted on the couch, who doesn't wake, but instinctively moves his arm over you to pull you to him. You know he can't hear you, but you whisper anyway.

"Thank you, Teddy."

Behind you, Ted's lips tilt up in a soft smile.

---

Well, I'm crying. How about y'all? I've been in a not great place lately and sometimes I wonder if writing these little stories of comfort are good for me or bad for me because I lack it in my own life? But I decided it was comfortable. Something calming to read when our brains feel like thunderstorms. Thanks for the prompt, friend. And hope you're feeling better. xoxo

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso x you #ted lasso comfort

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37sommz · 5 days

Text

✼. VICTORIOUS | 2018.

CH. 03. NOW PLAYING: tio by zayn [fluff, suggestive]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela keeps winning, 2.2k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀JULY 01, 2018 — spielberg, austria

“Though it is dry here in Austria, it seems as if the Sommer Rain will never let up.”

“She won in Baku, in Barcelona, and in France. Now, here in Austria, across the finish line, it’s Michaela Sommers who secures her fourth win this season.”

“They called for her to answer to the legend of Lella ‘76, and she has responded in kind. Michaela Sommers extends her lead in the Formula 2 Championship with double wins in both races here this weekend.”

“The current placements, as they stand, are Sommers in first, Russell in second, and Norris in third.”

“Mickey!” The trance Michaela found herself in was quickly broken by the sound of her nickname pouring from the left of her.

“They’re all out for the formation lap… headphones?”

Shaking herself from her staring at the track, her hands fell to the red headphones thrust out to her by a Ferrari engineer—one whom she couldn’t quite remember the name of—and lifted them to cover her ears. Her feet bringing her closer to the large monitors adorning the garage fell to a stop as the crackle of Sebastian Vettel’s voice echoed in her ears. As he cleared the radio check, her arms crossed over her chest; the yellow of the Ferrari logo contrasting with the black of her team jacket.

Her duties to the team as a reserve driver demanded every bit of her attention the minute she stepped out of her red Prema car, her mind immediately shifting to the red Ferrari cars of Vettel and Raikkonen as they took their second-row places. Eager to learn from the two veteran drivers, Michaela had found herself tagging along to every meeting possible. She leaned in closer when they complained about the back tires or the steering and her eyes tracked their wings as they drew in and out of the breadth of Hamilton and Verstappen. Her focus on the twists and turns of the Austrian Grand Prix only relieved itself once she saw Kimi and Sebastian pass the checkered flag—second and third, respectively.

As they always did at the end of the race, her hands shook from the concentrated energy rushing through her body. One of the engineers—she knew his name, he was much friendlier than most of his coworkers—nudged her shoulder to tease her about the tremble.

“You shake as if you had raced yourself.” His eyes sparkled in amusement as he spoke to her—they always did, as Kimi had once casually pointed out to her.

“It’s all the anticipation,” She easily responded. “I wish I was the one driving.”

He chose not to respond this time, his cheeks taking on a blush that deterred his speaking.

In the few months she had spent in and around the Ferrari garage Kimi had taken to pointing out every person he perceived to have any romantic inclination towards the Australian. She would roll her eyes, mutter something about types, and hope he would let it go. If he noticed her discomfort he never commented on it, simply shifting the topic to one about engines or advice for her next race.

Sebastian was much different. Taking a liking for teasing the Australian every chance he got, Michaela had previously likened him to a friend’s older brother. Effortlessly relaxed with seemingly nothing else to do but find the humor in every situation presented to him. Blue eyes would meet her brown ones from across the room, corners crinkling in mischief before she could fully process the situation before her.

In those few months that the three of them had shared gentle conversation, Sebastian had regularly urged Michaela to take in every moment for what it was. To relax in the company of others who understood her anticipation to hurtle down a gravel track at 200 miles per hour.

Kimi would rest an icy hand on her shoulder, squeezing once then twice in a signal. He would lean over to whisper, “Your shoulders are too high”, before retreating to whatever shadow he had occupied in the distance.

She knew they meant well; both champions in their own right and well aware of her own ambitions to hoist the winner’s cup over her head. But Michaela has never been relaxed.

She doesn’t think she ever will.

✼.⠀JULY 07, 2018 — silverstone, england

The champagne underneath Michaela’s shoes squeaked as it stuck to the linoleum beneath her. Wincing at the sound, her hands steadied themselves on the pristine corner leading to the Prema quarters. Roaring cheers of “Brava!” and “Complimenti!” continued to ring in her ears as the hall grew quieter, drifting away from the continued celebrations of the scarlet team. Her head was swimming in victory and her mouth was cotton-balled from the neverending Italian phrases of gratitude and appreciation.

Finally reaching the changeroom, her race suit pulled together at her waist fell to the floor with the softest of thuds. Incapable of taking anything slowly, Michaela’s hands rushed to rid herself of the champagne-soaked fireproofs. Swapping the red of the Prema suit for the red of her Ferrari polo and her favorite blue jeans, she exited the stall with a gentle sigh. Passing her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her tanned face. Catching a glimpse of the annoying mismatch in shades from one side of her shoulder to the other, those eager hands brushed through the controlled chaos of her honey-blonde bleached hair.

Rushing back down the hall to Ferrari’s garage, her eyes spotted the lights of a camera crew standing in between herself and the entrance.

Shit.

The gentlest of forced smiles fastened to the corners of her dry lips as she attempted to sneak past. Her hopes to evade the crew without detection were made futile as soon as the producer standing in front of the host made direct eye contact with her. The smile grew wider—her discomfort pure and shining—as her brown eyes begged the producer’s equally dark ones for mercy.

Before she could open her mouth to rattle off some bullshit excuse that only another driver would be able to understand, the producer—Aaron, she remembered his name—clapped his hands together, startling her before a groan slipped from her lips. Locked in a silent argument, Aaron was the first to break the silence.

“Michaela,” Eyes peering into hers as if in a warning. “You owe me this.”

Feigning innocence she whispered lowly, “I’ve got no idea what you mean, Aaron.”

His prim English accent was firm with sincerity as he took a moment to remind her with a tired, “France?” Receiving another sigh from the Australian girl, Aaron nodded as if emitting an obviously from his pursed lips. Pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, he called over the host—the identity of whom was still unknown to Michaela.

“Michaela, you’ll be having a quick chat with Jenson. He’s just joined the Sky team for this season,” Stopping himself to clap a hand onto the blonde Brit’s shoulder and to issue a warning glance towards the starry-eyed Aussie, he continues. “Be your normal bright self, put him at ease, it’s his first day.”

The emphasis on ‘normal’ is not lost on Jenson who chuckles at the warning. At a loss for words, Michaela pulls in a bated breath, eyes transfixed on the 2009 World Champion.

“Go easy on me?”

Blue eyes sparkle as they finally meet her brown ones. All words seem to fail her, that familiar rush of eagerness subsides as she takes him in.

Of all the things to notice about the former driver—the high peak of the bridge of his nose, the sharp lines of his hair, or the wolfish tilt of his lips—the feature Michaela can’t seem to pull her attention from is the spray of sun-tanned freckles laid across his cheeks. The freckles—and the unadorned, noticeably pale band of his left ring finger—are sure to haunt her as she finally finds the trust in herself to respond to the plea of grace.

“For you? How could I be anything but easy?”

If she was unaware of how desperate the words sounded as they fell off her two-toned lips, Aaron made sure to point it out to her. A clear of his throat covering the chuckle released from the back of his throat made sure to cut the present tension between the two drivers.

“Pick your good side and get it over with,” His words are choppy as he motions for the cameramen to take their places, “Please?”

The plea, whiny with exasperation is finally the thing to sever Jenson’s attention from the pink tinge hiding underneath the roundness of Michaela’s cheeks. With a quirk of his head and the offer of a red Sky Sports microphone, Michaela’s hands are still as her heart beats with an anticipation foreign to her own body.

✼.⠀NOVEMBER 25, 2018 — abu dhabi, united arab emirates

The last round of the Formula 2 Championship had passed by in a blur. The strobe lights catching onto the obnoxious trophy—with her name on it—seated in the middle of the table only added to the massive headache clearing any and every thought in her mind. Unsure of George’s whereabouts, Michaela downed a massive gulp of the mystery drink in her hand.

“Any plans before the next season?” Alex’s words slurred together into one big nearly incomprehensible sentence. Lando, seated on the other side of Michaela, giggled incessantly before answering on behalf of the newly crowned champion.

“You should try getting laid!” Dark eyes cut across to glare at him before they both fell into a shared giggle. Alex, dissatisfied by the lack of response from the Australian’s lips, whined impatiently.

“C’mon, Mick, answer me.”

“You talk funny when you’re drunk—” She continued giggling as Lando joined in imitating the oldest amongst the three. “Mickey!” He whined once more, face buried in his hands dramatically.

“Fine!”

She hummed to herself, much livelier with the endless flow of alcohol coursing through her.

“Lando’s right…” She pouted as if coming across an epiphany. “I should get laid.”

Alex shook his head as he turned to face her once more.

“You can’t get laid yet!”

Confusion gripped the two younger drivers, hanging on to his every word.

“If you get laid, Lando’ll be the only virgin on the grid.” He could barely get the words out without a stumble of laughter.

A rumble of a laugh released itself from Michaela as she threw her head back in amusement. The driver beside her grumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he stood up with a jerk. The mutter of an excuse to grab another drink fell on lost ears as Michaela and Alex took their turn to share a laugh.

Just as soon as Lando left, his spot on the couch was taken by Pierre. The Frenchman threw a sluggish arm over Michaela’s shoulder before planting an exaggerated kiss on her temple, a “mwah!” ringing into her ears as she pushed him away.

“Mickey, félicitations, ma jolie!” His words were—impossibly—more slurred than Alex’s, clear his intoxication had impaired his ability to distinguish between English and French.

“Merci chouchou,” She responded through squished cheeks as the older driver pinched them together in his warm hands.

“Are you getting laid tonight? I have a few suggestions.” He nearly sang the words into the Australian’s ears, his arms wrapping around her affectionately—not unlike his sober mannerisms.

“We were just talking about that!” Alex spoke up excitedly before Michaela could reply. “I told her Carlos would be down but she said—”

“No! He fucks anything that walks.”

Michaela ripped herself from Pierre’s arms at Alex’s suggestion. Crossing her own arms, she began to pace in front of the couch. Reaching for Alex’s drink, Michaela fell into deep thought, carefully surveying the section before them. Full of drivers across formulae and whoever they deemed glamorous enough to join them in their drunken celebrations, it was a dark-haired man who caught her eye.

Recognizing the stillness in her stance, Pierre nudged a confused Alex before standing to join the younger woman.

“His name’s Olivier, he’s with Giovinazzi.”

Alex nodded, pushing his shoulder forward to nudge the shorter woman’s, “His trainer or something?”

Pierre’s response—whatever it was—were ultimately ignored by Michaela who simply took another large gulp of his drink before surging forward. The cheers of Pierre and Alex were matched with a confused Lando as he returned drinkless.

Making eye contact with the dark-haired man—Olivier—his smile worked to quickly spur Michaela on. A surge of confidence ran through her as Antonio, and the rest of his entourage boyishly roughed up the subject of Michaela’s confidence. With a push forward, he was suddenly eye-to-eye with the Australian driver.

His skin, nearly the same shade as her own, met hers with a heat so addictive Michaela swore she saw Eros.

His voice, slow and accented—French, she decided—tickled at her ear as he bent down to speak to her over the noise of the EDM.

His hands, lightning through her body grasping at her hips as she rocked above him late into the early morning.

His lips, were gentle like the calming patter of the rain against her spine as he slipped out of her bed, number scribbled on the hotel notepad, and a sweater marked with his scent left to lie next to her luggage.

✼.⠀taglist:⠀

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@pacmacs-macs @thearchieves @doodlehunz

@lavisenri @evie-119 @bxdbxtxh

@seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn @99snse

@ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut @hiireadstuff

@emilyval1

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sennaverstappen · 3 months

Text

ROUND 7/23 ⸺ monaco grand prix ✩ 28.05.2023

maple's rating: ★★★★ (9.2/10)

☁︎ click read more facts, highlights & experiences ☁︎

✩ facts

red bull has won all monaco races this decade

this is max's 39th win with rbr, surpassing sebastian's 38 with the team

max has not yet finished lower than second this season

max led his 2000th lap of his career! he's only the seventh person to do that

lotus has been passed by rbr for most laps led (they're now fifth)

fernando's the oldest guy on the podium on monaco since 1970

fernando's second place is his best since hungary 2014, where he also got second

it was his fifth podium finish in monaco, but first since 2012 for fernando

estebans third podium ever!

george has finished in the same position in monaco for two years in a row

✩ raceweek highlights

checo in the wall before quali even properly started

lewis almost out in q1 (but not really)

nyck making it to q2!

charles impeding on lando and immediately fucking up his chances at winning monaco once again

fernando pole! oh, charles pole? pierre pole?

fernando pole!?

MAX VERSTAPPEN THIRD SECTOR FINAL LAP QUALIFYING

max verstappen on pole position

max complimenting charles' outfit

fernando smelling the (fake) flowers

fernando and max interactions were so sweet...

the. rain.

lance's double tap as seen above

checo not knowing how to deal with the rain either, crashing twice (once into george)

carlos in the wall too

aston martin flop strat moment

oscar after the race saying "he just followed what max was doing because he knew max wouldn't crash"

just rain chaos in general

ESTIE BESTIE ON THE PODIUM BABY

max not staying after winning to jump in the pool (he wanted to feed the cats)

max surpassing sebastian's amount of races won for red bull racing

✩ maple's diary

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milflewis · 7 months

Text

1.2k sewis. The Winner’s Room. past tense

It isn’t until the main course — and seven bottles of wine in — that the conversation turns to the world champion’s pick for The Room. Sebastian, as par on course for the night and most of the weekend, is the focus of the chatter.

Everyone knows that Lewis only ever used his turns twice. He was the first ever driver to refuse to choose for The Winner’s Room ceremony. It didn’t earn him any goodwill or love but then again, Mick thinks, that has never been why Lewis does what he does. It is one of the things that Mick respects most about him.

(It is one of the things that he dislikes most about him. Mick has never done well with envy.)

"They've never shared a Room," Daniel is saying loudly, because Daniel says everything loudly.

He pauses, mouth slack at the corners.

He frowns.

There is an expression on Valtteri's face, which is enough of a concern without Mick realising that this is what he looks like when he's planning murder. He doesn't look at Lewis, who has stopped talking beside Sebastian, focused completely on Daniel.

Guanyu refills his glass to the brim and promptly swallows half of it.

"Wait," Daniel says, like a gunshot. "There was that one year, I think?"

He turns in his seat, swaying, and calls out Sebastian's name. Sebastian leans back in his chair, the ends of his hair brushing Lewis's bare forearm, half dangling off of the back of Sebastian's seat and half on his shoulders.

Lewis's fingers are curled into the side of Sebastian's collar.

"Sebastian," Daniel says again.

"Daniel," Sebastian replies.

"When did you and Lewis do The Room again? It was before '17, right?"

Sebastian hums. Valtteri's expression has grown it's own presence, seating itself at the table. Mick feels the urge to hunch in his shoulders to make himself a smaller target. He doesn't like not knowing the blast radius.

Lewis's mouth is doing the thing that he does when he would give nearly anything in the world to be wearing his sunglasses right at this moment. Mick remembers being smaller, with bonier wrists, and his dad pointing it out to him as if it was the funniest thing ever.

"2013," Sebastian says casually, eyes calm. He blinks. Daniel scrunches up his nose as he tries to remember.

Everyone goes that bit more still as the knowledge that it was Sebastian who picked Lewis, but even more importantly, it was during a time when they weren't even friends, sinks in.

Mick has known this for a long time but still, he has no idea what to do with it. He has never asked Sebastian if it had anything to do with Nico, or worse, with Mark.

Mick has known him for over ten years, and in that time, Sebastian has never given nor asked for a straight answer. It's not as endearing as he likes to say it is.

It would be cruel to ask Lewis.

Mick does not like being cruel.

"Yeah, it was 2013," Daniel agrees as if Sebastian himself hadn't just said it. "I always forget about that."

George looks like he's about to burst. Pierre isn't doing much better. Guaunyu seems to have acquired another glass and is drinking out of the two of them with several straws.

Valtteri has gone unnaturally still. Yuki eyes him from behind Pierre, fascinated.

"Was it just one of those things, you know? Like, fuck it, yeah, why not? Be a bit of a laugh."

"Something like that."

"Huh."

And then: "Well, c'mon, who gave it to who? I know Mark told me but I can't remember. Head's like a sieve." A laugh.

"Hmm." Sebastian says nothing else, only smiles placidly.

It doesn't matter. Daniel has smelt blood in the water.

He and Valtteri rowed recently, Mick knows. The best way to hit back at Valtteri is to go after Lewis, Mick also knows.

"I never got fucked," is all Lewis says, quiet. He could be saying it is raining outside. It's the same voice he used when Toto told him Mick was going to be their reserve driver, and he just said, yeah, cool, for sure, before remembering that there is protocol and social niceties to observe and properly congratulated him, smiling wide.

Sometimes, Mick can understand the urge that some of the other drivers have, especially the older ones, to shake Lewis until something, anything, falls out.

It is tiresome to remind yourself that people owe you nothing but Mick tries to do it anyway. His mother taught him well.

"No?" Daniel asks. "And what about now?"

Fernando is mimicking eating something out of his hands. An ass, maybe. Or an apple. Lewis doesn't look at him.

He opens his mouth to say something terrible and most likely going to send several people here to an early death. Mick has realised over the last few months that Lewis is, like, sort of awful and that he should be grateful that he is so busy with all his different charities and rich bitch friends who eat hummus and whale sperm and whatever to have enough time to be a cunt like he used to be.

Jenson, it turns out, has a lot of opinions.

"Why." Valtteri's eyes are bright. His hands are flat on the table. Sebastian raises an eyebrow. He's fucking amused, Mick realises. Like a fucking lunatic.

Gina doesn't like the term lunatic. She says it's inaccurate and unfair. Mick thinks it anyway.

"Are you asking," Valtteri continues. Mick wonders if the lack of inflection is a Finnish thing or a Valtteri thing. Mika is Mick's main and pretty much only frame of reference to Finland. But Mick has been told he deserves his own box and should not be compared to anyone else.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" Their waiter is tall and broad shouldered and dark haired. He has a beard. Mick fights the urge to tell him that he may have just saved Daniel Ricciardo's life right now. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, thanks," Sebastian grins. "We're doing just fine."

"Actually," Fernando cuts in, and Kevin looks up at the ceiling beside Mick with the same twist to his face that he always gets around Guenther. "Do you happen to have any peaches?"

#everyone is just. like. kind of terrible #sewis being an enigma to everyone including me who is fucking writing them #sewis #dantteri #? sort of ????#to both ? idk my head is a fucking mess and this came out pls dont at me #little fics #to come back to

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httplilyyy · 2 years

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 || 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐒

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

request: ‘an idea for a part 2 for the alexia fic. reader and alexia are dating and alexia is at another one of the readers races but the reader ends up getting into an accident and alexia spends time with the reader at the hospital having a heart to heart conversation’

summary: it’s the first race back after the summer break and it doesn’t go as well as you’d like. you end up in the hospital and have a heart to heart conversation with alexia, the both of you at the brink of breaking down

warnings: brief description of a car crash, swearing, teeny tiny bit of angst, slight sexual themes but no smut

word count: 3.0k

a/n: this is a rollercoaster of a fic, i wasn’t planning on a part two but by popular demand it’s finally here :)

woso masterlist | prev. part

It was the first race after the summer break in which you spent your whole time with Alexia, or as much of it as you could.

After having a month off you were ready to get back in your car and race again. This time you were racing in Spa, Belgium. It was one of your favourite tracks on the calendar year.

Throughout the whole weekend you had Alexia by your side and you couldn't be more happier. FP1 and FP2 went by perfectly, as well as qualifying.

Although you were not starting on the front row, placing in third, due to exceeding track limits, you still had a solid chance of winning.

It was the night before the race and you and Alexia were cuddled up in bed in your hotel room.

The tv playing on in the background, completely forgotten as the two of you shared kisses and tender touches underneath the sheets.

As the night progressed you two continued to soak up every amount of affection that you could. It was around one in the morning, the two of you entangled with each other.

Alexia’s head was resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. One hand was drawing patterns on your stomach while the other was intertwined with yours.

“You ready for tomorrow?” Alexia asked quietly, her voice just coming out above a whisper, afraid she’ll ruin the peaceful moment between the two of you.

“Yeah,” you replied with the same amount of quietness to your voice, “It’s always an interesting race in Spa.”

“Please be careful, I can't handle another heart attack like in Silverstone.”

“I’m always careful.”

“Mhm.” Alexia hummed, not saying anything as a small smile appeared on her face.

“I can feel you smirking.” You chuckled. “When am I not careful?”

“You are the clumsiest person I have ever met.”

“No way.”

“Yup.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Need I remind you of the night we first kissed?”

“That was my plan all along.”

“Sure it was, amor.”

“That was hot.”

“What? Me saying amor?”

“Sí.”

“Eres un idiota pero te amo.”

“Hey! You called me an idiot!” You sulked, “What else did you say?”

“I’ll tell you after the race tomorrow.” Alexia smiled.

“Or you could tell me now?”

“Where's the fun in that?”

“You’re mean.”

“You need to sleep.” Alexia said as pulled the covers over the two of you a little more.

“Or we could do something else.” You suggested, wiggling your eyebrows in a teasing manner.

“If you win tomorrow, then maybe, but now you need sleep.”

“Fine.” You huffed, looking out of the window you watched as it began to rain.

“Buenas noches.” Alexia mumbled, closing her eyes and letting sleep consume her.

“Good night, love.”

It was the next morning and you were awoken to the sound of rain hitting the hotel window repeatedly. Although you don’t mind the rain nor driving in it you knew it would set Alexia on edge.

Alexia’s eyes fluttered open, her face scrunching as she was met by the sound of thunder rumbling in the sky.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she rolled onto her back and raised her arms above her head to stretch out her limbs, releasing a content sigh as she did so. She turned her head to the side when she felt you wrap your arm around her waist.

The Catalonian slowly turned onto her side so she was face to face with you. She carefully raised her hand and her fingers trailed along your facial features.

"Y/n." Alexia whispered as she ran her fingers through your hair. Your eyebrows raised signalling that you were awake. "It's time to get up."

"What time is it?" You mumbled as your fingers drew shapes on Alexia’s hip.

"It's around six."

You let out a small hum before removing your hand from Alexia’s waist and turning onto your back. You held your arm out and signalled for Alexia to cuddle up next to you, which she happily obliged to.

"I don't want to get up." You groaned. "Can't we just go back to sleep?"

"I wish we could but you have a race to win." Alexia mumbled.

"Okay, give me five more minutes."

"Nope. You gotta get up now." Alexia said as she peppered your face with kisses making your face scrunch up.

"Okay, okay, I'm up." You said as you slowly pulled yourself up to rest against the headboard.

The peaceful morning was cut off by a loud beeping noise coming from your phone. The two of you groaned and you leaned over to turn your phone off but it was too far away.

You tried to reach for it again but it resulted with you falling to the floor with a thud and the woman, who was beside you, chuckled with laughter.

"Ow." You muttered as you rubbed your head and finally turned off your phone.

"Are you alright?" Alexia asked between her laughter.

"I might have a concussion." You murmured as you stood up from the floor and moved over to your suitcase to get your things out.

“And you're apparently not clumsy.” Alexia mumbled, referring to your conversation last night.

As you turned back around you saw Alexia sitting criss crossed on the bed with a teasing smile on her face. "What's got you smiling like that?"

"Nothing." The midfielder shrugged.

“Okay.” You trailed off, not really believing her.

“Come here.” Alexia smiled as her pointer finger did a ‘come hither’ motion.

Doing as told you made your way to the edge of the bed, in front of Alexia and awaited for what she was going to do. The midfielder got out of the criss cross position she was in and got up to sit up on her knees.

“Did you really forget we went to bed in just our underwear?” Alexia chuckled as she slowly grazed her fingers over your abs making them contract and harden.

“How-” You trailed off wondering how you forgot such a thing. You were brought out of your thoughts when she moved her fingers downwards, playing with the elastic of your underwear.

“Go get ready.” Alexia said as she moved away from you and laid back down on the bed.

"You're such a tease." You huffed.

"Perhaps, but for now go take a cold shower." Alexia smirked. “It’ll help you out.”

“I hate you.” You said as you made your way into the bathroom.

“You love me.” Alexia smiled as she dragged out the ‘o’ in love.

“Hello and welcome back to the world of formula one,” Crofty said, “it's the first race back after the break and all the drivers are hungry for a spot on the podium.”

“Although, it will be a tricky one today as the heavens have seemed to have opened up,” Martin added, “but that won't stop the drivers.”

“The front row looks a little different without our championship leader there.”

“Yeah, y/l/n had to stick with P3 as they exceeded track limits during Saturday’s qualifying on turn eight.”

“They usually thrive in this sort of weather, having Hamilton and Leclerc in front of them will be sure to put up a fight as well as Verstappen in P4.”

“I’m rooting for them.”

“I know I definitely am.”

“Radio check.” Tom, your engineer, said.

“Loud and clear.” You replied.

“The rain seems to have subsided for the time being but should come back in around fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, can I speak to Alexia?”

“Yeah, one sec.” Tom said before you heard Alexia’s voice through the radio.

“Hola, amor.”

“Hey.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just needed to hear your voice.”

“Buena suerte.”

“I’ll see you after.”

“When you lift that trophy.”

“Okay, y/n. You’ve got to concentrate now. Only a minute to go.” Tom said instead of Alexia making you switch your mindset into race mode once again.

You watched as the front drivers pulled ahead to start the formation lap and you followed quickly behind them, trying to warm up your tyres in the wet weather.

Weaving from side to side you noticed how slippery it was outside of the racing line, taking a mental note on which areas were the worst.

Coming around the final corner you pulled back into your position and waited for the grid to fill up and for the lights to go out.

“Its lights out and away we go.”

Pressing your foot on the accelerator you got an amazing start but not enough to pass either Hamilton or Leclerc. Coming out from turn one you were full throttle till turn five. Having control of the car you decided to play around a little.

You remembered the wettest parts of the track so you pushed extra hard around those areas, hoping to drive the car in front into a mistake, letting you go through but it was no luck.

By lap ten you were ready to change from intermediates to full wets as the rain was coming down harder and harder.

You managed to bypass Leclerc on the sixth lap, not giving you much of a fight and your sole focus now was on winning.

“Box, box.” Tom said through the radio.

“Copy.”

Pulling into the pit lane you noticed a couple of other drivers having the same idea as you. The stop was a solid twenty-two seconds overall. But as soon as you came out from the pit exit is where it went downhill very fast.

You came out the pit lane side by side with Fernando Alonso and the 2x world champion was not going to give his place up easily.

You two battled for a good couple of laps and on the thirteenth lap you were coming through Eau Rouge and as you were pulling ahead slightly Alonso tried to switch driving line behind you however his front wing clipped your rear tire causing you to lose control of the car.

You tried to regain control of the car but it was no use, you hit a particularly wet spot of the track causing you to spin and head straight for a wall.

Bracing for impact you felt the g force go through you as you hit the wall head on.

The whole paddock went silent and a red flag was immediately put out.

“Wha-? Tom what happened?” Alexia asked as she stared at the screen in front of her.

“I- Alexia-” Before Tom could finish, the answer was on the screen.

Your car was in the wall with you still in it, making no effort to get out.

Everyone watched as the stewards rushed over to your car, trying to see if you were alright however they got no response. Ultimately deciding that you needed to get to the hospital and you needed to get there now.

After multiple failed attempts of getting you out, the stewards and paramedics called for an air ambulance. The paddock now no longer had access to what was going on and they were relying on the FIA and stewards to keep them updated.

With no news for around fifteen minutes Alexia’s mind had already gone to the worst possible scenarios. She was hugging her phone as she sat on the floor with her knees brought up to her chest.

Hoping and praying a notification or a phone call will come through saying that you were alright, but that wasn't the case. She heard the air ambulance over head and she finally let the tears flow.

Alexia was approached by Tom who kneeled in front of her, placing a comforting hand on her knee.

“They’ve got her out of the car and she’s on the way to the hospital.” Tom said softly, trying not to cry himself.

“I need to see her.” Alexia mumbled as she stood up in a rush, trying to gather all her belongings.

“Hey, calm down-”

“Calm down? You want me to ‘calm down’? Are you serious?” Alexia shouted, startling everyone in the garage. “My girlfriend is on the way to the hospital and I dont even know if they’re alive and you want me to calm down!?”

“I didn't mean it like that.” Tom said apologetically, “I was trying to say that I could take you. To the hospital, that is.”

“You could?”

“Yeah, she needs you more than anything right now.”

After quite a long drive, Alexia had finally arrived at the hospital you were at. She thanked Tom as she rushed out of his car and straight to the front desk, asking for which room you were in.

However, you were currently in surgery so Alexia had to sit and wait for her to be called by a doctor, telling her where to go.

Anxiously bouncing her knee up and down, Alexia lifted her head up once she saw a doctor calling out her name with yours coming right after. Getting up from her chair she made her way over to the doctor.

“How are they?” Alexia asked as she walked aside the doctor.

They didn't say anything causing Alexia's mind to spiral until they stopped in front of a door, the doctor placed a hand on her shoulder and sent the midfielder a sorrowful look before gesturing to Alexia she was outside the room you were in.

Alexia rushed in and once she saw you laying down on the bed she broke down into tears. She ran over to the side of your bed, clutching your hand afraid if she let go, you would never wake up.

Minutes that passed felt like days to Alexia. All she wanted was for you to wake up.

"You know, if you hold my hand any tighter it might fall off." You mumbled as you tried to sit up. Alexia had never moved quicker in her life once she heard your voice.

"Y/n." Alexia whispered breathlessly. She gently held your face and brought her head down so your lips connected in a small but meaningful kiss. "I thought I lost you."

“It's just a scratch, don't worry.” You said, pulling away from the kiss and a little further from the woman beside you.

A beat of silence passed through before Alexia spoke up.

“Y/n?”

“I can't do this Ale.” You whispered, looking down at your hands.

“What do you mean?” Alexia asked, her voice breaking.

“I can't keep hurting you.” You said. “You deserve someone better than me, someone who can be there for you, it would be so much easier.”

“I don’t want easy, I want you. I don't want anyone else but you, can't you see that?”

“Ale, please.”

“No, don't push me away.”

“I’m not good for you.”

“I don't care, you’re stuck with me.”

“Alexia-”

“No, you don't get to tell me what's best for me.” Alexia sniffled. “That's my choice and you don't get to make that for me.”

“You don't understand.”

“I only want you.” Alexia said as she punctuated every word. “You hear me? I can't lose you.”

"You could never lose me." You said softly, finally coming to your senses and realising that the woman next to you means nothing but the entire world to you.

You moved over a little so Alexia could sit next to you. Carefully she sat next to you and she made sure to hold your hand as well as being mindful of your injuries.

"I keep repeating it in my head.”

“Don’t do that. I’m okay, I promise.”

“Every time I blink I just see you heading for the wall and- when you didn't get out of the car I thought you were dead." Alexia sniffled as she nuzzled her face into your chest.

"It's okay." you said as you kissed the top of Alexia’s head gently. "I'm okay."

Alexia sat up a little and looked at you, her cheeks stained with tears.

"You can't die." Alexia said as she shook her head.

"I won't." You chuckled as you cupped her face with your left hand.

"I'm serious. Like never- you can never die.. you just can't..."

"Never?" You smiled softly as you used your thumb to wipe away the tears that fell down Alexia’s cheek. "I think I might have to one day."

"Well just do it after me."

You pulled Alexia back into your embrace and kissed the top of her head once she rested her face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's you and me against the world."

“Eres un idiota pero te amo.” Alexia mumbled.

“You said that last night. What does it mean?”

“You’re an idiot but I love you.”

“You're not joking are you?”

“No, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Te amo también, incluso si soy un idiota.” You smiled.

“You knew, didn’t you.”

“Maybe.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“I thought it was cute, you thinking so low of me-” You started but were cut off by a gentle slap to your shoulder. “Hey! No abusing the injured.”

“I don't think low of you, I just didn't know you knew Spanish that well.”

“Dualingo has been a great help.” You chuckled.

“Next time just use me.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“Not like that.” Alexia smiled as she felt heat rise to her cheeks.

“I know.”

“Te amo.”

“Te amo mucho, querido.”

“When are you allowed out?”

“In the next couple of days, then I can fly back to england.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“There's no need.”

“But-”

“I was thinking of going to Barcelona instead.” You smiled as you looked down at Alexia, watching as a smile broadened on her face the realisation settling down on her.

“I’ll be out for maybe two races so I was thinking I could come stay with you?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“I can't wait.” You smiled and wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

“No way, you are bed bound and injured.”

“But-”

“No buts.”

“What about yours?” You joked.

“No.”

“You promised me last night.”

“I said if you win then you could but you ended up crashing your car so...”

“No fair, it wasn't my fault anyway, one it was raining and two Alonso crashed into me.”

“I'm only joking, as soon as you feel better we can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want.”

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine

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bleedingintogold · 11 months

Text

Okay, so to atone for my sin of killing off a character too sadly, I'm pulling a Jason Todd on Leader. Still gonna screw the guy up, no cap, but he comes back! The story will be in a few parts, coz I overcomplicated the plot due to unintentionally hyperfixating on it this weekend when I literally have exams next week.

And uh, it's gonna be a while before he gets his blanket back though. But he gets a name! If you haven't read the first part, here it is.

Leader - Lucca

Right-Hand - Rhea

Medic - Mason

Youngest - Yosef

Engineer - Eddy

Here's part 2.

-----

Safe and Sound

Part 2

Rhea drags her feet as she walks to the graveyeard, heart weighing heavy in her chest. Not even in death could Lucca be left to rest. She had been woken this morning by a call from the cemetry's caretaker. His grave had been disturbed.

Lucca had just been buried for God's sake, Rhea could still feel the cold metal of the handles of his casket in her hands when she had carried her captain to his final resting place. He had been buried for barely two days.

Out of all the graves, out of all the soldiers who had died with him and buried in the same row, fresh flowers still laid on top every stone name plate, not even fully dried out yet. It just had to be Lucca's grave that was disturbed.

But when she arrived, she realized it wasn't just disturbed. It was dug up.

6 feet beneath the soil laid an empty wooden coffin, Lucca's blanket, the handmade blanket they had gently wrapped around his broken body, held together by bandages and tucked under his chin, was soiled in mud, hanging out of the wooden box.

Rhea wanted to vomit as shaky hands pulled the blanket out of the grave.

Lucca had been taken, and by the looks of it, it didn't happen the night before. The last time it rained was the same night they had buried Lucca itself.

-----

Cold.

The only thing Lucca could process right now was that he felt unbelievably cold. He craved a familiar warmth that he couldn't quite remember. The last thing he remembered...what was it?

He then realized that he couldn't move his body, nor could he open his eyes. The first emotion he felt was panic.

"Subject has shown signs of life. Heart has started to beat strongly. Reanimation has been successful," said a robotic voice, giving Lucca a headache as it seemed to be echoing right in his ear.

"Welcome back, Captain Lucca. Let's get you all fixed up again,"

The voice was familiar, but he didn't have much time to ponder over it when he was hit by a searing hot pain across both his upper thighs and left bicep.

Lucca couldn't scream, as much as he wanted and needed to. His body was completely paralyzed but not a single bit numb to the pain. He could hear the alarming beep of a heart monitor machine somewhere above him.

"These limbs will have to go. The damage is too severe. I suppose that's what you get from walking into a bomb blast. Rather careless of you, really,"

Lucca was conscious for just long enough to feel his limbs being seperated away from his body.

#leader whump #team dynamics #leader whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #whumpee #whump #tw torture #tw permanent injury #blanket leader #team leader whump

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year

Text

Honey Bun (18+ Series)

(Aaron Hotchner x Stripper!Reader)

Part 1 // MINORS DNI

This first part is dedicated to @ssahotstuff for inspiring me <3 and to @hausofwhores who I first talked to about my idea hehe <3 <3

WC: 2.1k Words

Song Inspo: Gold Satin Dreamer - Nicole Dollanganger

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, bit of an age gap (placing reader at around 25-26), cursing, alcohol consumption, formalized sex work (Stripper/Pole Dancer), occasional angst, drama, and that's all I can think of rn but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Short and sweet intro! Things are gonna get very uhhh interesting from here on out ;) Enjoy some flirty Hotch, let me know your thoughts on this first part! I'm super excited to be writing this!!!! :)

------------------------------------------------------

“Need a little sugar in your life, gentlemen? Well, get ready to make it rain on our sweetest girl, Honey Bun! Just remember, you may feast your eyes, but no touching!”

—————

Thursdays weren’t always so busy. Sure, there were a couple of party animals who liked to start the weekend early, but rarely at such capacity.

At least you were glad that Josephine was working with you that night. She made busy nights at the Duchess Tavern much more bearable. When you first started working there, she immediately took you under her wing, teaching you all the ropes.

She had a certain matronly quality about her — probably attributed to the fact she was twenty years older than you — but she was a real tough cookie, too. On countless occasions, she’d helped you deal with rowdy customers and drunk assholes. She rarely ever needed help from the bouncers to break bar fights, she cursed like a sailor, and she also made the meanest Long Island Iced Tea you’d ever had.

You were certain that if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t have lasted a week being a bartender.

“You’re lucky you’re off on weekends,” Josephine said as she poured a row of shots for a group of college-aged girls. “This here is light work compared to a Saturday night.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be getting a lot of rest…” you countered. “Dealing with the same sort of customers, too.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just getting too old for this shit,” she sighed heavily.

“Oh please, pigs will fly before the day good ole Josie O’Donnell actually retires.”

She laughed heartily, smacking your arm in a playful way. You couldn’t help but admire how hardworking she was. She’d been at this business for years, and it was certainly no easy place to be. She inspired you to stay driven, even when you felt at your lowest. She was the only one in this place you trusted with the knowledge of your other job. Not everyone was so understanding, and plus, it wasn’t really their business anyways.

Working two jobs was in no way easy, but it was definitely necessary. Especially considering you liked living a certain way. You barely had any free time to hang out with friends outside of work, much less meet people and go on dates. Though it’s not like you didn’t get hit on, at both of your jobs, but you just weren’t interested in any of them.

Rarely could anyone keep up with your schedule, especially considering your line of work. It was unsurprising, but you weren’t really phased by it anymore.You didn’t give yourself the time to feel lonely, and you had enough interactions during the day to compensate.

As the initial swell of patronage died down, you began wiping down the bar, absently humming to yourself. Def Leppard’s ‘Bringing on the Heartbreak’, one of your favorites, was playing on the speakers.

An older looking gentleman slid onto a barstool then. You offered him a drink menu, but he waved it off and ordered a scotch, neat. He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh, and his shoulders slumped as he crossed his arms over the bar top.

“Long day?” You asked, pouring his drink.

“You could say so,” he nodded wearily. “You know, I’ve always wondered, are bartenders required to ask that whenever they see a haggard-looking patron?”

You chuckled, sliding it towards him. “Only if we think we can help.”

A ghost of a smile was on his lips at that. You studied him more closely, trying to be subtle – He was strikingly handsome, with dark hair and thick dark eyebrows. He had a strong nose and a sharp, clean shaven jaw. His eyes were a piercing dark brown, and they drew your attention the most.

He took a sip of scotch, and there was something analytical in his gaze as he took you in, as well.

“Well, I guess you could say I’m a little bit of a workaholic,” he said.

You nodded in understanding. “A common affliction these days.”

“You, too?” He raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged as if to say what can you do?

“No offense, but I can’t imagine you love spending more time here than you need to.”

You raised both eyebrows at this, only half amused. He was wearing a nicely tailored suit, had an expensive watch on his wrist, and wasn’t ordering cheap drinks. The Duchess didn’t really seem like a place he’d hang out at, and yet…

“Hmm, well, I suppose the same could be said about you,” you countered, nonchalant.

“Touché,” he acquiesced with the smallest chuckle. “But I don’t know, maybe I should give it a chance. It’s…”

“Charming?” You offered.

“Yes, exactly.”

You excused yourself momentarily to attend to another customer. He looked around, but was clearly uninterested in talking to anyone else.

Josephine caught your eye and gave you an impressed look. She wagged her eyebrows suggestively and mouthed ‘get it’.

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head a little. He was certainly very good looking, and flirting was pretty fun, but you weren’t sure if it should go any further than that.

When you returned, you refilled his glass, since he’d already polished off the first one.

“So, what’s your name?” You asked. “Or is it more fun to keep it anonymous?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You thought about it for a moment, but then you relented, telling him your name.

“Some call me Honey, though,” you added.

He extended his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron Hotchner. It’s nice to meet you, Honey.”

You shook his hand, his long fingers basically engulfing yours. Something stirred low in your belly at this, your mind going straight to the gutter. As if he could tell, a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Boy, do I feel lucky to be the one getting your attention tonight,” he said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Those guys over there have been ogling you for some time now. They’re almost panting and salivating like dogs.”

You glanced in the direction he gestured towards, momentarily meeting two hungry gazes. You shrugged it off, so used to that sort of lascivious attention that you didn’t notice it anymore.

“Well, you approached me the right way,” you said, busying yourself by wiping down some glasses. “Some think it’s flattering to be looked at like that, but it’s really not.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he sympathized. “I get what you mean.”

“Oh, it must be so hard being so attractive, hmm?” You teased jokingly.

“So you think I’m attractive?”

You gave him a look that said are you serious?

“I mean, I don’t want to stroke your ego but… Yes, you really are.”

Aaron’s smirk only grew, perhaps feeling more bold now that he was on his second drink.

“For the record, I think you are very beautiful, but I am a man who knows who to appreciate beauty without needing to take some of it for himself.”

You looked back up at him then, momentarily stunned. Then you chuckled in slight disbelief, but also totally enthralled. Just who was this man?

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d held a conversation — less so one so genuinely riveting — with a single patron for this long. At least at this job, and especially for free.

You were even beginning to consider giving him your number, should he ask for it. But that was yet to be seen.

“I’m serious,” he said.

“Oh, I believe you,” you smirked in return, not letting on if you meant it or not.

The two of you held each other’s gazes for a charged moment, trying to get a better read of each other in the low light. You saw both mirth and earnestness in his eyes — but no trace of anything that should raise any flags — and you found yourself getting just a little more comfortable.

It was easy to talk to him, but he was still very much a stranger. You didn’t want to let yourself get too excited, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t continue testing the waters. After all, he’d been pretty well behaved so far, and you always liked to reward good behavior.

Once more you had to pull yourself away to attend to someone, but at least the place was getting emptier as it got later. You could feel his gaze trailing you this time, and you glanced over your shoulder to send a wink his way.

“Psst,” Josephine hissed in your direction. “Why don’t you take fifteen? I’ve got things handled here.”

You hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” she scoffed. “Go on now, have a little fun.”

You waved her off, but smiled appreciatively. On your way to the other side of the bar, you grabbed yourself a beer and then plopped down on the stool next to Aaron’s. He turned to face you, his knees barely grazing yours. The small contact was innocent enough, but you still felt the smallest tingle down your spine. You clinked your bottle against his glass in a little toast.

“You were right, you know?” He said, looking at the side of your face as you drank. “You really are helping me feel better.”

“Aw shucks, that means I’m good at my job,” you said teasingly, which made him playfully roll his eyes.

“Tell me more about you. Why is it that they call you Honey?” he asked.

“Aren’t I sweet?” You pouted, pretending to be hurt.

He chuckled. “I think you are. Is that the whole reason?”

You nodded, omitting the fact that it also happened to be your stage name – Honey Bun. Sticky sweet; All satin and glitter and softness. Of course, that wasn’t the same you that was sitting across from him now.

“I think you have a very pretty name, too,” he leaned against the bar, resting his temple on his fist. “Is it too forward of me to ask to call you by it? Unless you prefer…”

You waved him off. “How can I decline when you ask so nicely?”

The two of you lost track of time as you continued talking and joking and teasing each other. Laughter seemed to come so easily around him, and there were virtually no awkward pauses between the two of you. It was almost too good to be true.

You told Aaron about some of the wilder things you’d witnessed working at the Duchess, looping Josephine into the conversation at one point. You never even noticed she didn’t call you back from your break, too absorbed in letting loose for once. Even if it was only for a little while, and not entirely.

Much too soon, last call was announced, and you realized that it was nearly two AM. Most people had left, and someone was sweeping as the tables were being stacked.

“Oh, wow, closing time,” you remarked. “I guess time does fly when you’re having fun, huh?”

You got up from your seat to start helping out, giving him a small, almost sheepish grin. You’d had a really nice time, but he was still a customer and couldn’t stick around as you wrapped up for the night. You tried to think of the nicest way to kick him out… even if a teenie tiny part of you didn’t want him to leave.

Aaron looked around as if coming out of a daze. He glanced at his watch and stood, gathering his things. “So it seems.”

“The Duchess just has that effect on people. I should have warned you.”

“I have to say, I think this place is growing on me,” he admitted. “Would you mind if I visited more often?”

“It’s a free country, you can do whatever you want,” you smiled, and in your smile there was an invitation— or perhaps a dare?

And in his, you could see that he was ready to take it.

Still, to your surprise and slight chagrin, he did not ask for your contact information. Perhaps it was his way of continuing to be respectful. Or maybe, this encounter had merely been a reprieve from the day to day for both of you. Nothing more.

For a moment, you wondered if things would have gone down differently had you met in the Crimson Lounge instead of the Duchess. The thought made a small thrill dance in your chest, but you tried not to chase it further. Of course things would have gone down differently. You probably wouldn’t have talked nearly as much.

So you took what you could get, blowing a flirty kiss in his direction as he departed. It was better not to get attached, anyway.

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