#i'll go snag it later... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

abbotsanatomy · 3 months ago

Note

I can’t stop thinking about the fluffy alphabet you did for Jack where his nightmare is you coming into his ER. I’d love if you could expand upon that please and thank you.

⨳ JUST A WALK-IN

pairing: jack abbot x wife!reader warnings: depiction of ectopic pregnancy, mentions of surgery/medical procedures. author's note: i think it'd definitely feel that much worse if he caused your visit to the ER (even if indirectly). so here's this..

It takes a lot for you to visit the ER. Lightheadedness, pain in the most random places, and three days of excruciating pain later, you've finally succumbed to the fact that this is, indeed, an emergency.

In truth, you're more worried about your husband than yourself. Jack's what the people call completely overbearing, when it comes to your health. If you could be a hypochondriac for someone, he's that. He tries to downplay it, but you know he's panicking inside every time you get a cold that lasts a little too long or tell him about that pain in your side.

That's why it's incredibly detrimental that your husband not see you in his ER. You're going to tip-toe around, asking for anyone who isn't him and hoping the nurses won't slip up and tell him they saw you around. You feel safe, for now, behind this curtain.

You managed to snag Parker Ellis on your way in. She's one of your favorites, and you know she can keep her mouth shut with Jack.

“Y'know if Abbot finds out, I'll tell him you totally threatened me, right?” she deadpans, pulling her gloves on.

She's sat on a stool beside your hospital bed. You shoot her a pouty look that you hope could soften her up. It doesn't.

“Come on! I only threatened you a little,” you yell, “Have my back. It can't be that serious. Probably just appendicitis or something.”

“You waited three days before coming in,” she berates you. “If it is appendicitis, you should be worried.”

You sigh loudly, and move to lie farther back onto the hospital bed. Ellis brings the cart with the ultrasound kit closer to herself.

“Whatever,” you whisper, pulling your shirt up to reveal your torso.

Ellis puts some ultrasound gel there. You close your eyes at the sensation. It feels too cold, especially with the preexisting pain.

She puts the transducer on your lower abdomen and moves it around, her eyes glued to the screen in front of her. You assume she's found something when her hand freezes and just stares at the screen for a minute.

“What is it?” you question, softly. You're a little scared now; you've never seen Ellis look so serious.

When the silence becomes too intense, you start turning the diamond ring on your fourth finger around. You know whatever Parker's about to tell you, it isn't good.

“Should Jack be here for this?” you suggest, unable to pull your eyes from the sparkling rock on your hand.

Ellis finally pulls her eyes away from the screen, “Yeah. Maybe.”

You nod, slowly letting your eyes flutter shut.

“Okay. Can you tell him? To come in here?” you finally look up at her, “I want him here.”

She leaves without another word. You put your head into your hands, breathing deeply. You think you're getting a moment of peace, and then the pain that's been following you around for days, maybe even weeks, it doubles.

Then, it triples.

You know this can't be a good sign. You make for the call button quickly. You're inches away, when you feel your consciousness slip away. Your vision goes black before you can do anything.

Ellis is making her way through the ER at record speed. When she finds Jack, she's even more frustrated than before.

He's operating. She can't interrupt. She isn't even sure how she was going to tell him in the first place, let alone in a room full of people, with someone's life in his hands.

Ellis is more than aware of just how much Jack loves you. She was at the wedding. She sat front row, listened intently to all of your vows. She hears how he talks to you on the phone, his voice completely morphing into something a lot softer. She notices how you’re on speed dial every time a major incident happens, because he always needs to make sure you’re okay.

She knows he'll freak out when he hears.

These things usually aren't that dangerous, but you've left it for too long. She isn't even sure if you'll make it into surgery before it gets bad. This thing's ready to rupture, and Jack should definitely be there for you if it does.

Fuck it, she decides. She walks into trauma room one with a newfound sense of determination. Ellis grabs a mask off of the tray at the door, and walks in, holding it to her face.

“Hey, Abbot?”

Jack only spares her a glance.

“Kind of busy here,” he tells her, his hands literally inside of the patient in front of him.

“You know I wouldn't do this if it wasn't important,” her voice comes off as frantic.

So much so, that it makes him look up. His eyes immediately become set into a deep frown. He quickly tells Walsh to take over, pulling his hands away. They're both out of the trauma room in seconds.

“Is it...” Jack pauses.

“Yeah, yeah. It's your wife. She's here. She came in for an emergency,” she explains.

“You didn't tell me?”

“She's freakin' scary, alright? Just—I'll tell you what it is there.” Ellis just walks away without a second glance. Jack's following, his footsteps heavy.

When they get to the hospital cubicle you were in, Ellis pushes the curtain back quickly to reveal...nothing.

“Where is she, Ellis?”

“I left her right here. Wait...” Ellis walks to the nurse's station to ask about your whereabouts. They give her the worst case scenario.

As soon as Jack hears the news, he's sprinting to the elevator to make his way to the surgical floor. You're having surgery, and he isn't there. You're having life-altering surgery, which he might've caused, and he isn't there.

His heart’s pounding so hard in his chest he think he might be having a heart attack. This is worse. It’s scarier. He isn’t scared of dying, he’s scared of losing the one thing that’s keeping him going. And the idea that he’s the one who put you in this situation makes him more uneasy.

He can't help but feel guilty, especially when they hand him your wedding ring and the band T-shirt and jeans you presumably had on, and tell him to just wait in the room you'll be admitted in.

He just stares at the glittering diamond in his hands for what feels like hours, until they wheel you in. Then, he puts it back on your ring finger and stares some more.

When you wake up, it's like being reborn. It's completely stressful, you feel like you’re learning how to breathe all over again, and you want to burst out crying. But Jack's right there, with your hand in his.

It makes you smile. Your face still feels heavy, but you manage to show a little teeth. You turn your head to the side, and he's still looking down at your interlocked fingers. He finally looks up when you squeeze his hand as tight as you can.

He can't say anything, so you do.

“I'm, like, so fucking hungry,” you whisper, and then start laughing.

Jack stands up from his seat at your bedside, leaning in. He pulls your head up with a hand buried into your hair. His lips are pressed onto your forehead and, if it's even possible, you're smiling wider.

“That was scary,” you admit.

He nods, his forehead resting against yours now. Your brows crease.

“What, uh...What happened?”

Jack shakes his head, “It was an ectopic pregnancy. Ruptured. I thought—”

He closes his eyes tight, “I thought I'd lose you.”

“You didn't.” You bring a hand up, so your fingers can brush against his jaw.

Jack takes a deep breath, but you can tell it's a little off. “I...I sit up, late at night, thinking about this. You dying, here, in this hospital. Me not knowing about it.”

You shake your head adamantly, pulling his face back so you can really look into his eyes. It takes you a good minute to form a whole sentence.

“I didn't die. I'm right here. It wasn't even close, I swear,” you promise him, offering the best smile you can in this moment.

You plant a firm kiss on his lips to punctuate your point. You let your fingers play around in the salt and pepper strands of his hair.

“But, seriously,” you sigh, “I'm totally starving. How do we get someone to bring me something to eat?”

You look around for a minute, until he starts laughing. It's more of a cathartic coping mechanism than a genuine laugh. You giggle along with him anyway.

#jack abbot #jack abbott #dr jack abbot #dr jack abbott #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #jack abbott fanfic #dr jack abbott x reader #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot drabble #jack abbot imagine #the pitt #the pitt max #the pitt hbo #the pitt 2025 #the pitt show #the pitt x reader #jack abbot fluff

2K notes · View notes

burntoutdaydreamer · 2 years ago

Text

Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

3K notes · View notes

luvly-writer · 2 months ago

Text

Basgaith: First Impressions

Xaden Riorson x Gamlyn! reader

Masterlist

Basgiath War College — Parapet

The parapet survivors were filing into the courtyard, bloodied, bruised, some limping, others sighing in relief. Xaden stood with his arms crossed beside Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, and Quinn, watching the newest first-years arrive with disinterest—until she stepped in.

Y/n Gamlyn.

“Gods,” Bodhi muttered, narrowing his eyes. “That one’s not going to make it past the first month.”

Xaden looked up, gaze snagging on the girl with wild dark curls half-fallen from her braid, her cheeks flushed from exertion, a black silk ribbon clinging on by a miracle. Her lips were glossed, eyes fierce under a veil of lashes, and she walked like she was daring someone to challenge her. Her dark red nails were unchipped. Her gold earrings glinted against sun-warmed skin.

“She looks like she belongs at a palace ball, not a war college,” Imogen muttered, though there was something wary in her tone.

“Maybe she’s lost,” Quinn offered with a snort. “Doesn’t look like she knows what she just signed up for.”

“She’s pretty,” Garrick said, then shrugged. “Shame.”

“Pretty doesn’t last here,” Xaden said flatly, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She looked up—and for half a second, their eyes met. His chest did something unfamiliar. Stupid.

Then the instructors called the first sparring matches, and the Marked Ones turned their attention toward the ring. When Y/n was called up, Garrick actually scoffed.

“This is going to be brutal.”

But it was. Just not the way they expected.

Within thirty seconds, her opponent was flat on his back, wheezing, the sparring staff knocked from his hands. Y/n twirled her weapon once, then calmly extended her hand to help the boy up. The crowd was silent. A moment later, it exploded with noise.

Garrick’s mouth dropped open.

“…Okay, never mind,” Bodhi muttered.

“Well I'll be dammed,” Imogen said taken a back.

Xaden said nothing. He just watched Y/n—still calm, still pretty, still dangerous as all hell—walk off the ring like she owned it.

And something in his chest shifted.

“She’s going to make it,” he murmured.

Quinn arched a brow. “You sound real sure of that.”

Xaden didn't respond, too busy analyzing her, assesing her.

The next time they saw her, she wasn’t alone.

Y/n stood at the center of a tight-knit group—laughing, shoulder bumping into a tall boy with dark brown hair and a devil-may-care grin. Her laughter rang out, bright and unfiltered, and the tall boy threw an arm around her with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times before.

“Wait…” Garrick squinted. “Is that—?”

“Ridoc Gamlyn,” Imogen said, recognition dawning. “Class clown and smart ass.”

“And that means…” Bodhi’s eyes widened. “No way.”

“The Gamlyn twins,” Quinn finished, crossing her arms. “Guess that explains why she looked so relieved after the parapet.”

“They’re nothing alike,” Garrick said, watching Ridoc trip one of their squadmates mid-sentence. “He’s all jokes, and she—she’s…”

“Stunning?” Bodhi offered.

“Deadly,” Xaden said at the same time, gaze pinned on Y/n as she leaned in to whisper something to Ridoc, making him bark a laugh. The rest of the Iron Squad—Violet, Rhiannon, Sawyer—were already acting like she was a natural fixture there, part of their rhythm.

“Didn’t expect her to be that close with Sorrengail,” Imogen noted, watching the way Violet grinned at something Y/n said. “She’s already got ties.”

“She’s not just surviving,” Quinn said, “she’s thriving.”

“Still pretty as hell though,” Garrick muttered. “Too pretty for this place.”

Xaden didn’t say anything, but he agreed—just not in the dismissive way his friends meant.

Because the way Y/n moved, the way she held her own, the way she could laugh in the middle of Basgaith like she wasn’t surrounded by death—it struck him. Deeply.

Then, as fate would have it, she walked right past them with Ridoc, arms full of training gear and curls bouncing behind her.

Xaden didn’t even think about it.

“Impressive spar earlier, Gamlyn.”

Y/n froze. Ridoc raised a brow and smirked.

She turned slowly, meeting his gaze with wide eyes and pink dusting her cheeks. “Thank you…Wingleader Riorson.”

The respectful address was adorable, though her voice wobbled slightly as she said it.

She turned to walk again—only to stumble over her own boot.

Ridoc caught her with a laugh. “Smooth.”

“Shut up,” she hissed at him, cheeks now crimson.

Behind her, Garrick wheezed.

Bodhi leaned into Xaden and whispered, “You did that on purpose.”

Sgaeyl’s voice filtered through their bond with mock-delight. And since when do you compliment first years?

Xaden just smirked, eyes lingering on the girl still recovering from a single compliment.

She was going to be fun.

Basgaith War College, Training Grounds

The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the sparring rings, steel clashing against steel as squads drilled with focused intensity. The Second Squad moved in a surprising-perfect sync—Ridoc’s easy agility, Rhiannon’s precision, Violet’s quiet strength—but it was Y/n who caught Xaden’s eye, again.

She moved like poetry, all sharp elbows and clever feints, fierce and fluid with a grin that dared anyone to underestimate her. Her curls were pulled into a high ponytail, tied with a sleek black silk bow that fluttered like a challenge behind her. Her nails—still somehow painted the deepest red he’d ever seen—flashed with every block and twist. Gold and pearl earrings glinted from her ears, and that small choker of soft pearls never seemed to leave her throat, accompanied by the delicate shell necklace that bounced gently against her collarbone.

Her lips were always glossy—like war didn’t dare smudge her shine—and even the faintest shift of the wind brought with it her scent: warm, floral, and faintly exotic, like a secret garden no one else had found.

“She’s something else,” Xaden muttered, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her flip her opponent effortlessly during a spar.

Next to him, Garrick smirked. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

“She looks like she stepped out of a ballroom, not a war college,” Xaden said, more to himself than to the others. “Her hair always perfect, the perfume, those silk bows… and still, she fights like hell.”

Bodhi chuckled. “That's one way of saying it.”

Quinn leaned on her staff. “She knocked out another first year who said her earrings were a ‘distraction.’ He wasn’t wrong.”

Imogen snorted. “She’s got more piercings than most cadets have battle scars, and I swear, not a single one ever gets caught. It’s like even the chaos of Basgaith steps aside for her.”

Xaden shook his head, half in awe, half in amusement. “She’s walking contradiction, a curious little thing.”

Garrick grinned knowingly. “Sounds like someone’s catching feelings.”

“Shut up.”

They all laughed, but when Xaden glanced back at her—hair wild, laughter loud as she bumped shoulders with Ridoc—it was with something quieter in his chest. Something like wonder.

A few weeks later..

The clatter of cutlery and low hum of chatter filled the Gathering Hall as the Marked Ones gathered around their usual table near the back wall. Garrick leaned back in his chair, surveying the room with casual amusement, while Imogen picked at her food, Quinn and Bodhi mid-banter about that morning’s brutal drills.

“Where’s Second Squad?” Garrick asked, gesturing with his fork toward their usual table. “They’re down one.”

“Ridoc’s here,” Imogen murmured, squinting. “Violet, Rhiannon, Sawyer too...”

“But not the twin,” Bodhi chimed in, casually scanning the room. “Not Gamlyn.”

Imogen smirked. “Maybe she finally realized this place is a death trap and bailed.”

But then the cafeteria doors swung open—and for a moment, the hum of conversation thinned, like a collective inhale.

Y/n walked in, a vision of unintentional chaos. Her hair was tied up with a strip of silk, little pieces of hair escaping to frame her face. She wore the standard uniform—leather jacket slung over one shoulder, dark tank tucked into snug pants—but on her, it looked elevated. The dark red of her nails matched the subtle tint on her lips, and the delicate gold of her earrings caught the light as she walked. Effortless. Regal. Deadly.

One beat passed.

Two.

Then a low whistle came from Bodhi. “Shit. No wonder the first years call her the Quadrant’s resident pretty girl.”

“She just stopped traffic,” Quinn said with a laugh, watching as several second-years trying to stare discreetly.

Imogen’s eyes narrowed. “She’s so... polished. In Basgiath, of all places. Make it make sense.”

Garrick chuckled. “Grace under pressure.”

But Xaden—silent until now—just watched, his dark gaze never leaving Y/n as she made her way toward her squad. The way she nodded and smiled at someone who greeted her, completely unaware of the stir she caused. Her twin rose to greet her, casually slinging an arm around her shoulder as if she wasn’t radiating goddess energy in a hall full of war-hardened riders.

Bodhi nudged Xaden with a smug grin. “Wingleader, are you even listening or just glaring at a certain first year?”

Quinn leaned over. “Be honest—first year’s got you in a chokehold already?”

Even Sgaeyl, lounging in Xaden’s mind, gave a low, amused rumble.

Xaden didn’t look away. Didn’t smile. But his voice held a low warning as he muttered, “Eat your food.”

The table erupted in laughter.

Author's note: This is a slow burn so prepare.

Taglist: @eepyfaerie @dreamdragonkadia

To be added, leave a comment. <3

#iron flame #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing xaden #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #xaden riorson #Ridoc Gamblyn #Iron squad #fourth wing x you #onyx storm #the empyrean series #fourth wing imagine

272 notes · View notes

alchemistc · 8 months ago

Text

The call comes in just after 2 PM, and Tommy's in the air five minutes later. White male, early thirties, took a tumble off the incline at one of the intermediate hiking points near Griffith Park, the engine can't winch him up without exacerbating his injuries.

It's a quick flight. Nothing remarkable at all, until Hurst has been down on the ground for a few minutes too long and then Tommy's captain is on the radio asking him to hand over the controls to his copilot the moment he lands at Presbyterian.

He's pissed about it the entire length of time it takes for the winch to pull up Hurst and their new passenger - time and a half for a 48 hour stretch isn't anything to scoff at.

And then he hears Hurst rattling off information as the door shuts, and he's desperately trying to remind himself that no amount of outside noise has ever distracted him before.

Evan Buckley, 33, moderate concussion, sprained ankle, three broken fingers, possible broken ribs, pulse is steady but BP is trending high.

Happy fucking Thanksgiving.

---

Tommy's phone rings as they're making the handoff at, and he answers more out of habit than anything else. It's Cap again.

"You can either ride shotgun back and be man behind or I can shift your time and a half somewhere else because you've had a family emergency," Hobbes says, and Tommy would love to have a snappy retort but he's still thinking about the way Buck had come out of it enough to tell Hurst his boyfriend - "ex-boyfriend, sorry" - flies for 217 too. Hobbes clears his throat. "Considering your last family emergency was when I forced you to take a holiday off, I know which one I'd choose."

Tommy blinks. They're almost to the doors.

"I'll see you in a few days, Captain," Tommy murmurs and hauls ass towards the retreating medical team wheeling Buck into the hospital.

---

He'd listened while Hurst and her partner - a loan from 136 he still hasn't actually been introduced to - pumped some pain meds to keep Buck from hurting himself more, but it's still a surprise to see how zonked he looks, pupils wide and eyes glassy as he blinks slow blinks up at the ceiling, the doctors, and Tommy.

Buck tries to tip his head sideways when he catches sight of him, and pulls a face when the C collar impedes the movement. A hand snags out, catches on the seam of Tommy's flight suit, and Tommy can't quite help himself. He reaches out and holds the hand in place.

It's easy to keep pace with the orderly as they leave the elevator, and Tommy knows exactly how many doors he's allowed through before he's got to make his way to the waiting room and figure out where the fuck to go from there.

Buck's face is scraped up good on one side, and the hand not in Tommy's is splinted too much for him to catch the full damage. There's more blood than Tommy can consciously account for in the moment, although most of it looks to be drying. The hand in his squeezes. "S-someone should ca-." He winces. Seems to lose his train of thought. Rolls back around to it right before the final set of doors. "You'll call Tommy?" he asks, a desperation on his face that does something ruinous to Tommy's gut, but the orderly has already slowed down and now she's looking a little like she'll shove Tommy off if he doesn't let go of her patient.

Tommy nods. Squeezes. "I'll call Tommy."

Buck's smile is lopsided and loopy as Tommy lets go of his hand.

"Good," he murmurs, and the doors swing wide and then shut behind him, and Tommy spends a solid five minutes staring at the spot where the red striping in the tile at his feet doesn't quite match up to its neighboring tiles.

---

He's a coward, so he calls Eddie first and puts his foot in it immediately.

"Why was Buck alone on a hike on Thanksgiving?" he asks, before Eddie's even finished his greeting, and he's glad he's stepped outside to make this call. He's not moderating his volume at all.

Eddie pauses. Seems to reboot. "Wait, what?"

Tommy recounts what he knows, which isn't a whole hell of a lot, if he's being honest. "So. When can I expect the cavalry?"

Eddie's silent for a beat too long. "I'm in Texas, Tommy. Is he - is it serious? How bad -?"

"He was conscious. Slightly more than superficial injuries. He'll - recover."

He'll be fine doesn't have the right ring to it, when he's just watched the man wheeled away without even recognizing Tommy.

"He went on a hike? What kind of idiot -?" Eddie asks, and then he's silent for a beat too long. "Tommy, don't take this the wrong way, but if there's even a small part of you telling you to make a break for it, do it now before he has a chance to get his hopes up."

Tommy feels it like the knife it's meant to be. It'd be shutting the door, really - in the short term, he'll remember asking someone to let Tommy know, and he'll assume Tommy didn't show. In the long term he'll remember exactly who he'd spoken to and he'll be pissed enough to make it a clean break.

It hasn't even been a month, and Tommy's out of distractions. No work, no house to clean and reorganize, no engines to tinker with, a phone on half battery.

"I need to call Maddie," he says, and he can hear the echo as Eddie shifts to speaker.

"No need. She's on her way. With like, half the station, apparently." He rattles off what must be a text from the group chat.

Tommy shoves down that familiar ache while Eddie sounds off everyone who is currently in the process of abandoning their holiday dinners to come sit in uncomfortable waiting room chairs and twiddle their thumbs. He should leave. Cut the loose threads, take an Uber home, convince his captain he doesn't need Friday off.

He's silent long enough that Eddie feels the need to check and make sure he's still there. There's an ambulance swinging into the bay thirty feet from where Tommy stands.

"You screwed up," Eddie says, and Tommy grimaces, swallows, ignores the thrum of anxiety pooling in his gut. "Showing up for him now would go a long way towards making a reconciliation viable. If that's something you want."

Tommy doesn't know what the fuck he wants, anymore. He's never allowed himself to have it long enough for it to settle. But he knows how it'd felt to know the first person on Evan's mind in the midst of his pain medication haze was Tommy.

Tommy pulls up the first delivery service app he sees and wonders how big a tip he should give for ordering a dozen coffees an hour before closing time on a national holiday. "You know what everyone's usual coffee order is?"

Eddie adds him to a group chat that's going to drain the rest of his battery before Evan's out of surgery.

>>>Part Two

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #happy thanksgiving everyone have some injury made them make up fic #gotta go run all my errands but i should have part two up this evening

532 notes · View notes

nonranghaes · 8 months ago

Text

heads up: poly fic <3

it's a little later than you mean for it to be when you're finishing up the last of your laundry, basket tucked against your legs on the floor as you dip down to snag another t-shirt to fold and put away. you should be in bed in a tangle of limbs right now, brain already yearning to doze off into hopefully just a blissful night of silly dreams. instead...

"i wish our baby was here." jisung lets out a long, heavy sigh. his head is tucked against minho's chest, one arm draped around his shoulders. he's not even looking at you when you glance back, instead wistfully looking out the window like he's waiting for his beloved to return from the war. "the bed feels emptier without them."

minho, on the other hand, suppresses a tiny smile as his eyes meet yours for barely even a second. "i miss them, too," his fingers comb through jisung's hair a little, snuggling closer. "sometimes it's like they're still here..."

you just put away another shirt, dipping down to grab a pair of your pajama pants. "quit talking about me like i'm dead."

"sometimes i still hear their voice." minho, too, sighs wistfully. "it's almost like they're still nagging us."

you pout a little. "if only i had two boyfriends who could come help me finish this. then maybe i'd be able to cuddle with them again..."

jisung snickers a little, but it's minho who speaks again. "i'll call chan. maybe he knows somebody--"

a sock with a teddy bear pattern hits him square in the chest, and it's finally motivation for minho to get out of bed, already racing toward you. his arms wrap around you as he immediately pulls you away from the last of your laundry (just a pile of socks you'd have to sort through to match together) and toward the bed. the moment you go to call for jisung to be on your side, he's swooping in to further drag you back to bed.

"socks can wait," jisung says, pressing a kiss against your cheek before tossing your lone sock back to the basket. "it's cuddle time."

with a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you're already wrapping an arm around jisung. "fine," you say, planting a quick peck on the tip of his nose, just to see the way his face scrunches in delight. "but you two," you pause, just to bring minho's hand to where you can kiss the back of it, "have to sort them tomorrow."

631 notes · View notes

mtcloudsworld · 13 days ago

Text

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗻𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀 ─ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖 - 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒

He was supposed to be asleep. There was no way his ass was up right now, reading your message.

Given tomorrow was gonna be a busy day for him, you weren't expecting him to be up so late.

And yet, here you were, watching, as the text bubble popped up and disappeared again, loading with anticipation.

"Oh Shit," you immediately squat down in a fetal position, your heart racing and your mind swirling.

You was expecting him to wake up to this little surprise in the morning─ just a little something to get his day going, but you digress.

He was wide awake, actually.

Fresh out the shower, body steaming hot, towel wrapped around his lower region, body laxed from all the aching.

He grabbed his phone thinkin' he was gonna text you goodnight, tell you how much he missed you and how he was gonna to see you soon... but, was bombarded by a risky photo of you and a text stating: "I miss you, bun bun ♡"

What started as a cheeky, innocent picture quickly turned into something mischievous and out of your norm.

Although your face was alluring and sweet, glossy lips pouting so cutely─ your body was something else.

"Holy fuck."

Pure almond joy, chocolatey nude goodness, buttery skin, round full tits, perfect curves in all the right places... You looked so sexy as you posed in front of the full body mirror. Braids pulled up in a bun, fresh soft face─ you looked so squishy, so huggable and kissable. He wanted you. Needed you.

He was craving for you more and more as the minutes rolled by.

And you didn't even know it, yet.

And then─ your phone rings.

You stand there in shock, watching as the contact name Bun Bun🐇🩷 comes across your lockscreen with the picture of you and him cuddled up in bed after getting your back blown out.

"Well isn't this a surprise."

"I thought you'd be asleep by now." You say, sweetly almost in a whiny tone, one that was of concern but also out of pure shock. "Why are you still awake?"

He chuckled. "Got in a bit later than expected. Was gonna text goodnight and crash, but... guess that's out the window now." His raspy voice, full of that honeyed intimacy, practically grinned into your ear.

A pout formed on your lips as you mumbled, "m'sorry, I didn't mean to get you all worked up this late."

"Uh uh, there's nothing to be sorry for, baby..." You suddenly hear ruffling and then─ a distinct jingle, "...I'm actually on my way."

Your eyes widen. "What?"

On high alert, you step out of the bathroom where your gaze snagged on the neon pink digital clock across the room, its glowing numbers stark: 2:30 am from the darkness.

"B-But... you have an early day tomorrow, Jay...you can't be up too late. You know how you are, you're not gonna get any rest."

You heard a scoff.

"I'll be fine, promise," He excuses, slipping on his air force ones. "Besides...I miss you. I wanna come see you."

If yearn was a person it would be Jason. Though he was an asshole to others, malicious and unforgiving to everybody else, to you? He was your baby, your sweet angel, your lovesick puppy who didn't want to be far behind from his owner. Secretly, he was down bad for you and you didn't mind that. In fact, you applaud it knowing it was difficult for him to show any emotion other than anger.

You heard his motorcycle roar in the background, and a familiar shriek of the garage door opening─ You were practically cheesing like a fucking idiot.

Your voice was soft and small, sweet serenity played in his ears as you mumbled a simple "Okay" through the phone.

He smiled at your acceptance.

Immediately his phone connects to his helmet as he slips it on, reving up the engine, he swiftly rides out of the dark alleyway onto the busy streets of crime alley.

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be there in 10."

You smile contently, giving him a soft sigh.

"I'll be waiting~ ♡"

©𝗺𝘁𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗱𝘀 ─ 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅, 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒, 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾

296 notes · View notes

citruswriter · 10 months ago

Text

Cybersex

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Smut, dubcon (ish), phone sex, degrading, dirty talk, voice kink, begging, fem terms, afab reader.

Creepypasta Kinktober Prompt: Dirty Talk/Over The Phone

Pairings: BEN Drowned x Fem Reader

It had been a long, stressful even. And now all you wanted to do was to relax and find some release. You had a habit you see, of rubbing one out after coming home. It was an easy way to transition from work to home mode and help your body relax. You'd shed your clothes would shed and you'd find yourself on your bed with your fingers circling your clit until you were slick and shaking with sweet, relaxing release.

But tonight seemed to be different. You came home, ready to relax and let your orgasm wash away the troubles of work but no matter what you tried you couldn't find release. You tried everything. Fingers, vibes, grinding, everything. And still... nothing.

You huff in frustration as your hand hits the bed in defeat. You roll over and snag your phone, trying to distract yourself before you heard your phone ding and a text pop up in the message board pop up.

Ben 💚: hey wanna call while i game?

You ponder for a moment before replying with yes and telling him to call you. Ben calls a few moments later and you pick up. "Hey girlie." His voice comes, smooth and low. You smile softly as you hear the voice of your best friend. "Hey Ben. How've you been?" You reply softly. "Pretty good, pretty good. Can't complain. I'm playing a new game." He said and you hummed. "Tell me about it." You said, knowing how much he loved to ramble about new games he was playing.

As he began to talk, you couldn't help but enjoy the sound of his voice. How smooth it was, how it almost rasped when it dropped a bit lower, how his laugh sounded like music when he laugh at his own jokes and holy shit you're getting turned on by his voice.

You felt guilty as you felt as you felt heat pool in your core, felt terrible as you reached a hand down to rub your pearl. You couldn't help it, you needed that release, and what Ben didn't know wouldn't hurt him right? You rubbed your pearl as he continued to ramble about the game, growing more and more desperate as you finally started to get a hint of an orgasm.

Grasping onto the strings you rubbed faster and harder , trying not to keen and gasp into the phone as Ben continued to ramble. But Ben must have noticed your silence, because he stopped talking. You bit back a whine of protest, silently willing him to keep talking.

"Hey you ok? You've been pretty quiet." He says, concern lacing his tone and your speaking before you can stop yourself. "Please keep talking, I'm so close." You whine out, desperation in your tone as you hear Ben go silent in shock. You feel that feeling of guilt rise in your chest, you were a horrible friend. Masturbating to your friend's voice without his consent.

"Babygirl you getting off to my voice?" He asks slowly and you give a soft whine, fingers moving on your clit once more. He'd never called you babygirl before. You wanted him to call you more nicknames. "Y-Yeah." You say softly and you almost melt when you hear him give an amused laugh, the sound pouring over your ears like sweet honey.

"Well fuck, sweetness. Didn't realize you were such a slut for my voice." He teases and you shudder. "Tell me what your doing sweetheart and I'll keep talking." He promises and you whine out.

"I'm rubbing my clit. Fuck I'm so wet, Ben. So close to cumming. Fuck it's been such a long day and I couldn't cum after work and then you wanted to call and your voice just sounded so fucking attractive and I just couldn't help myself. I'm so sorry." You babble out, hand still working your clit to keep your orgasm from being ripped away from you.

"Don't apologize, babygirl. I think its cute. You're all heady and desperate just from my voice. Shit I can only I can only how desperate I could get you for my cock." He breathes out and you whimper, the thought of him fucking you on his cock driving you even further, working your clit furiously.

"Please Ben. Please I'm so close." You plead, your tone becoming high pitched and desperate and you can hear Ben groan. "Such a slut. Cum for me, sweetness. Be a good girl and cum." He purrs and you cry out as you cum, vision blurring as you orgasm and that familiar feeling of sweet relaxation washes over you and you can't help but sigh out in relaxation.

"I'm coming over." Ben's voice can be heard and you squeak. "What?" You breathe out and Ben chuckles darkly. "Yeah. Now it's time for you to cum on my cock."

You were well aware of the thrill of delight that went up your spine.

Only on my second day and I'm already late with my writing. Tsk, tsk. I'm really pleased with this one tho. So, enjoy.

Taglist: @rainrot4me

#creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #kinktober #writblr #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned smut

555 notes · View notes

thewickwheat · 10 months ago

Text

The remaining bust comms from last batch are getting finished up this month, so I'm opening up to start accepting the next group!

Snag one here!

As a note, these may be the last comms I take on for a while. I'll go more indepth about my upcoming break/hiatus later in the year but just a quick lil heads up about it!

#my art #kayla commissions

427 notes · View notes

demonic0angel · 3 months ago

Note

Maybe...Dany/Cass meet-cute?

Or, if you're ok with that maybe even Danny/Cass/Steph meet-cute?

Either way, regardless of ship, I'm picturing Danny, somewhere between 23-38 years old, being a single dad to a hyper and excitable tiny Ellie, who likes to hold his hand and drag him with her to whatever special interest catches her attention at the moment.

And that's where they meet Cass, who gets to watch as a man gets dragged to all the "girl stuff" stores by his kid, and instead of refusing, kr acting embarrassed, Danny just sighs fondly, and indulges his little girl in her insistence to see him with nails painted like hers.

Maybe they bump into Cass on the way out of the latest store, and when Cass swings by their place later on to ensure they're safe, Ellie comes running to open the window Cass was perched under, and comes to greet her.

And Cass would've liked to adopt the little tyke like Bruce did her, but if she can also snag herself the Dad, she'll be even happier.

Maybe, if you're ok with Danny/Cass/Steph (my little multi shipper heart adores these thre gremlins together) , Cass and Ellie vibe while Ellie tells her about her day, and Steph is the one who's shamelessly flirting with Danny? (Danny could do with having the classic DILF build, so steph can much more accurately call him that and watch him combust and stutter)

(Sorry if this makes little sense, it's 4 a.m and the insomny hit hard tonight 😅)

Steph whistled lowly. "Hottie alert. Ooh, he has a daughter! How cute!" She was quickly distracted by the sight of the small child wandering around under her father's watchful gaze.

"No ring," Cass said, observing the man before looking back at the small child that was toddling around.

Steph looked back at the man and pumped a fist. "Hell yeah. More daddy issues, here we come! Should we go talk to him?"

Cass snorted. "Maybe later." Both of them were in the park, bored after getting a random free day for the first time in a long time. They were sitting together, people watching and particularly focused on the father-daughter pair, one who was cute and the other who was hot.

"Don't go too far, Dani!" The man called. "I'll be sitting here!"

"Okay!" Was the very adorable reply. Steph squealed and slapped Cass' shoulder, who sighed at her girlfriend's excitement.

The small child was happily kicking at rocks on the ground when something in the distance began running towards her. Her father didn't seem to notice yet, looting through a bag for something.

Steph and Cass immediately stood up from the bench when they saw that it was an unleashed dog speeding towards the child. Its face was set in a snarl and it seemed determined to get to its target. Dani, the child, started shrieking when she finally noticed it.

Both girls instantly swooped in. Steph picked up Dani, jumping back as Cass swiftly grabbed hold on the dog's collar, yanking it back. It gave a yelp and writhed from the chokehold.

Cass let it go and glared down at it as it whimpered and whined.

"Dani!" The man screamed before running over. Steph didn't notice, distracted by the shaking child in her hands and the dog's owner, who came running towards them with a furious expression.

"How dare you! I'll call the police on you! Don't touch my dog, you—" the woman shrieked.

"Actually!" Steph snarled, as Cass came back to stand by her side. Steph handed Dani to her without a second thought and stepped in front of them. "We should call the police on you! It's against the law to let your dog run unleashed in public spaces in Gotham. And your dog almost attacked a kid!"

They argued some more but Steph was eventually able to drive her off without any recuperations. Steph clicked her tongue irritably. "What a jerk!" Steph sniffed.

Cass nodded, still holding Dani.

"Uhh."

They both turned to the father, who was standing there with a vaguely amused expression, an eyebrow raised. He lifted his hands. "Can I have my child back?"

Both Steph and Cass looked at Dani, who was contentedly sitting in the latter's arms without a single care, and started. "Oh my gosh! We're so sorry!"

Cass gingerly but quickly handed over Dani to her father. Thankfully, he was very agreeable because he just laughed before hugging his daughter tightly. He gave both Cass and Steph a grateful smile.

"Thank you so much for helping me and saving my daughter. Err, could I buy you two dinner? As thanks?" He gave a friendly and obliviously charming smile.

Cass opened her mouth to refuse out of principle and Steph immediately grabbed her arm and interrupted her, "Yes! Absolutely!"

The man beamed. "My name's Danny. This is Dani, with an I. I didn't name her, by the way, if you're asking."

Steph laughed and held on even tighter to Cass, both eying him with heavy gazes. "I'm Steph and this is Cass. I think we're going to get along swimmingly, Danny."

300 notes · View notes

littlefireball · 6 months ago

Text

ʏʜ|[ᴍ]|ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪʙʀᴀʀʏ

ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴄ ʀɪᴠᴀʟ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2ᴋ

You tiptoed and stretched your arm to grab the book perched on the top shelf. Ugh, no matter how hard you tried, it just wouldn't budge. Out of nowhere, a hand swooped in and snagged the book. You turned to face the last person you wanted to see—your rival, Jeong Yunho.

You really couldn't stand him. The way he always loved to mess with you was so annoying. It felt like he never had to put in any effort to study. You could hit the books for days, and he'd still end up with the same score after just an hour of cramming. Even when you managed to outscore him, you knew he'd come back and ace the next test, leaving you in the dust. Sometimes, it felt like he intentionally flunked just to see you happy, only to surprise you later with a killer score. It was like you were just a plaything to him.

"Need that book too?" you asked, pouting and crossing your arms.

"Not really, but it looks like you do," he said with a smirk as he handed it to you. You could tell he was just looking for a chance to mess with you. Hesitating, you reached for the book, but he suddenly lifted it above his head.

"That's not very fun," he said, placing the book back on the shelf, just out of your reach.

"You…!!"

"What? Can't get it?" He laughed, clearly enjoying your frustration.

You huffed and shot him a glare, knowing he'd never pass up a chance to get under your skin.

"I'll just go find a ladder!"

Yunho couldn't help but chuckle as he watched you march off to find a ladder. You were always easily riled up, and he found it amusing how you seemed to get even more annoyed when he played his little games. He leaned against the bookshelf, his smirk never leaving his face.

Sure enough, a few moments later, you were back, lugging a tall ladder behind you. Yunho watched you set it up, trying to climb up to reach the book while also not making it too obvious that he wanted to see you struggle a bit longer.

His gaze drifted towards your legs for a brief moment, admiring the small glimpse of skin that was revealed as you climbed. He quickly snapped his gaze back up, though, not wanting to be caught staring. Yunho chuckled silently at the thought of you getting even more irritated if you knew.

"Be careful, you may fall off, you know?"

"I'm perfectly capable of climbing a ladder, thank you very much." You rolled your eyes, trying your best to maintain your composure but failing miserably.

"Really?Because it looks like…" He stepped closer, his face was an inch near your thigh. "You might fall any minute now," he teased, his smirk growing wider as he noticed the small slip in your step.

"I'm…I am not.." "Is it?" You suddenly felt Yunho's hand on your thigh, and the contact sent a shiver up your spine. You looked down at him, a smirk on his lips.

"What're you doing?" you asked, your voice a little more shaky than you intended.

"Just making sure you don't fall." He said in a sly tone, his grip on your thigh tightening ever so slightly.

His touch caused you tensed up, and you tried your best to stay focused on reaching the book on the top shelf. Although, you couldn't deny the way his grip on your thigh was making your heart race.

His hand slowly moved further up your thigh, inching towards your inner thigh. You couldn't help but inhale sharply as he was toying the hem of your panties, gently tugging at the fabric as if testing its limits. He kept his gaze fixed on your face, watching as the mixture of frustration and desire flickered across your features.

You gripped the ladder tightly, trying to steady yourself against his touch and control the heat that was building within you.

"Stop that…"

"Why? You seem to be enjoying it." He laughed a bit, his grip only tightening as he leaned even closer, dropping a soft kiss on your skin.

"I'm not…enjoying it…" you bit your lips, trying your best to suppress your moan.

"Your body seems to disagree. I can feel the heat radiating off of you," He moved even closer, his hand slowly sliding higher up to your panties. "Just admit it." Without a warning, he pulled down your panties, a sharp inhale escaped your lips as the cold hit your core.

Yunho's head finds its way between your thighs, his hot breath sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He looks up at you with a devilish gleam in his eyes, his smirk replaced by a more intense expression.

"Mmm, you taste even sweeter than I imagined," he murmured. His tongue teased your entrance, licking and exploring every inch of you, never letting up the pressure. A soft, involuntary moan let out from your lips as your grip on the ladder tightened, your knuckles turning white and your toes curled in your shoes.

"Don't…don't you dare…"

"Or what?"

"I…ah~"

Your words were cut off as he swirled his tongue around your most sensitive spot, his movement slow and deliberate. A moan left your mouth, you could feel his movement become more urgent and purposeful. He explored every part of you, flattering his tongue to skim over your core and making sure no juices drip on the floor.

He continued to tease you and tantalize you with his tongue, but then his fingers suddenly found their way to your entrance, gently sliding in with an ease that took you by surprise. You let out a gasp as he slowly moved his fingers rhythmically and precisely, as he knew exactly what to do to drive you wild.

"You're so tight, and so wet," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Just wait and see what I have in store for you." His fingers continued their exploration, moving with a tantalizingly slow pace that was both infuriating and absolutely pleasurable.

You felt your body responding, arching towards him involuntarily, your grip on the bar tightening as you let out a whimper.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air, and he chuckled softly against your thigh. He was enjoying the way you were reacting to him, and it only fueled his desire to drive you over the edge. With each push and pull, his fingers continued to work their magic, while his mouth latched onto your most sensitive spot, sucking and teasing with a fervor that left you reeling.

It was a sensory overload, the combination of his fingers and his tongue licking and swirling, sending you to the brink. You tried to speak, to say anything, but all that came out were incoherent moans and whimpers. The tension was building within you, the pressure mounting until you were at the breaking point. Just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he suddenly stopped, causing a frustrated whine to leave your lips.

"Beg." His voice was firm, commanding. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

"Please…Please don't stop. I need you. I need more."

He let out a low chuckle, satisfied with your response. "That's a good girl," He was enjoying every moment of he had you completely in his power.

"You want more, huh?"

"Yes…please…more…I need you…"

"Good girl…" He murmured against your ears. "You know what comes next."

He withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. But then you felt something else taking their place – hot, wet, and oh so good. It took you a moment to realize what it was, his tongue sliding inside you, exploring and teasing. He made a quick tap on your entrance, his tip touching everywhere to send electricity through your whole body.

"Oh…oh gosh…Yunho…it's too much…"

"Shut up." He alternated between broad, slow strokes and quick, darting movements, driving you wild with pleasure. You were teetering on the edge, your toes curling in your sneakers as the sounds of your breath, heavy and ragged, echoed through the hallway.

"Fuck…I can't hold it…" Yunho was completely aroused at this point, his own breaths coming in ragged gasps as he continued to focus all his attention on pleasuring you. He was rock hard, his member straining against his pants, the fabric doing little to hide the erection.

Without breaking contact with you, he suddenly pulled back, his hands going to his pants and quickly undoing the button and pulling down the zipper. He lifted his hips to slide his pants and his underwear down, revealing his big, long cock.

He grabbed your shoulder to flip you over, now you were sitting with your legs wide open in front of his face. Your clit was swollen and reddened because of his rough move and he clearly enjoyed the sight.

Yunho captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, his grip on your waist tightening. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting more of his touch, more of his taste. He parted from the kiss, kneeling back down to your clit to kiss it. Your back arched from his touch, burying your hands in his hair to push him deeper. He let out a small smirk as he felt the grip on his hair tightened each time his fingers collided with your sweet spot. One of his hands reached down to his hardened cock, circling the tip with pre-cum and starting to rub himself.

"Hm…hm~" The more friction he applied on his cock, the more moan he spit out. Each vocalization caused vibrations that drove you insane and almost the edge of brink.

"Yunho…yu…more…I need more." You gasped out. A little more and you could come.

Suddenly, you two heard the sound of footsteps echoing in the distance, growing louder and closer with each passing moment. You froze, pulling Yunho to leave from your clit. "Stop…stop it…" But no matter how harsh you tugged him, he remained unmoved, still eating you out like a last meal and jerking himself off.

"Yunho…ah~stop…"

"You're too loud." He covered your mouth with his hand, muffling your moan as he kept going. His heart raced and jumped like a thump, the sight of being caught causing him anxiety but excited him at the same time. He had to make it quick, not until you both came.

"Come, now." He abruptly gave you a hard bite on your thigh, that one small pain was enough to send you over the edge. Your body convulsed as you experienced the most intense orgasm you had never felt. "Fuck…" he whispered against your clit as your juices soaked his nose and mouth, making him completely mess but also bringing him to the climax. His face left your core, looking down at his cock while jerking off with a high speed. "Damn it…ahh~" With a long throaty moan, he came on your stomach, soaking your shirt with his hot sperm.

Yunho quickly straightened himself, pulling up his pants and underwear, while you hurried to fix your clothes and sit up straight, trying to look decent. But your legs gave out, and you lost your balance, tumbling off the ladder. Thankfully, Yunho was there to catch you just as someone entered the hallway.

"Ooh~~ what's going on here?" It was San, Yunho's friend and the librarian, looking both surprised and amused at the sight of you two so close together.

"Nothing! I just… lost my balance, and Yunho caught me," you said, forcing a smile while Yunho nodded awkwardly.

"Seriously?" San raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah… the book was just too high up…" you replied, trying to mask your anxiety.

"Yah…" Yunho added, helping you back onto the ladder. San looked skeptical but eventually nodded and went on his way. "Just be careful next time."

Yunho let out a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair as he shot you a sideways glance. "That was a close call," he said, sounding relieved. "We should probably leave before we end up in another awkward situation." You agreed, still trying to regain your composure.

"But hey… we're not finished yet…" He smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist to steady you as he helped you down from the ladder.

"What…" He leaned in closer, pressing against you, clearly still aroused.

"I think there's an empty locker room next to the library?"

"Huh… wait—" Before you could finish your thought, he scooped you up and carried you to the empty locker room.

—--

San was making his rounds in the library as it was nearing closing time. He paused in the hallway when he spotted you two close together. His expression shifted to concern as he noticed something white on the floor.

"What the heck is that…?"

He approached, kneeling down to get a better look. It appeared sticky, and combined with the expressions on your faces…

"Wait… wait… WAIT!!!" He couldn't believe what he was seeing. "WHAT THE FUCK YOU JEONG YUNHO!!!"

—--

Yunho let out a sudden sneeze, and you shot him a worried glance. "Are you feeling cold?" "Nah, I'm fine…" You both exchanged smiles, and he leaned in to kiss you, gently pushing his member into you.

tag list: @angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615, @monsta-x-jagi

218 notes · View notes

justlemmeadoreyou · 1 year ago

Text

5. seasoned to perfection (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

(part 1 here) | (part 2 here) | (part 3 here) | (part 4 here)

Summary: Harry comes back, and the pent-up tensions and frustrations from the day you met are released, in the literal sense. he's vulnerable too, but it's for your eyes only..

Words: 6k+

Warnings: Fluff, Smut. P in v sex in the driver's seat 🤭, kissing, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

***

Harry was back in Chicago two days later, just as he'd promised. A profound sense of relief washed over you the moment his broad-shouldered figure appeared striding through the airport terminal - he looked exhausted and careworn, but his stride was purposeful, that familiar spark of intensity simmering behind his hazel eyes.

Despite the lingering worry etched into the lines of his face, Harry flashed you a lopsided grin as he drew closer. "Well if it ain't my star pupil, coming to greet her mentor like the proper respectful protegee she is."

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, unable to suppress the matching grin that tugged at your own mouth. "Don't get too full of yourself there . I'm just here to collect on those celebratory drinks you promised."

"Is that so?" Harry's raspy chuckle sent a shiver down your spine as he closed the remaining distance between you. Up close, you could better make out the faint smudges of fatigue ringing his eyes, the weary set of his shoulders that hinted at the emotional toll this family crisis had already exacted.

"I sure am lucky you pulled through like a total rockstar the other night, darlin'," he said, voice softening with sincerity. "Don't know what kind of state my head would be in right now if that whole gala affair had gone pear-shaped on top of everything else."

You felt your chest constrict with sympathy at the undercurrent of weariness bleeding into his gravelly timbre. For all his towering self-assurance, it was still far too easy to catch glimpses of the profoundly lonely man beneath.

"Hey," you said softly, emboldened enough to reach out and give his forearm a reassuring squeeze. "It's gonna be okay, you know? One way or another."

"Yeah, I know," he acknowledged after a beat, hazel eyes crinkling faintly at the corners as he regarded you. Impulsively, Harry reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face in an unexpectedly tender gesture. "Thanks for being here, pet. I could use a friendly face right about now."

You felt your breath catch at the gentle rasp of his rough fingertips grazing your cheek as they fell away. A look passed between you, heavy with unspoken undercurrents simmering just beneath the surface.

Harry seemed to catch himself after a pregnant pause, giving a slightly brusque clearing of his throat as he took a half-step back. "Anyway, I'm betting you're just aching to hear all the dirty details about how your old mentor totally knocked it out of the park running my crazy-ass centerpiece for the gala, am I right?"

The teasing rasp was back in full force, but you could have sworn you detected an undercurrent of...flirtation? Nerves fizzing in your veins, you forced an answering grin. "Well, I definitely wouldn't say no to getting an extremely thorough debrief on all the specifics."

"That's what I like to hear," Harry chuckled, reaching down to snag your bag before you could protest. "C'mon then, let's get out of this madhouse. I'll fill you in on every juicy detail over a proper meal - hell, I might even let you buy me a congratulatory drink for once."

You rolled your eyes at his cheek but didn't object as Harry slung your bag over his shoulder and began leading the way out of the crowded airport terminal, one calloused hand at the small of your back guiding you through the milling crowds. The innocent point of contact still managed to raise gooseflesh along your skin.

"I hope wherever we're going has a full bar," you quipped once you made it outside, drawing a rich chuckle from your mentor.

"Have I ever let you down before on the booze front, darlin'? Though I gotta warn you, I might have to start cutting you off early tonight if you get too sloppy with the drinking."

You snorted indelicately. "Please, like your liver could even hang with mine these days. I'll be the one cutting YOU off before the night is over, old man."

"Old man?!" Harry's brows shot upward in mock outrage. "Well aren't you a cheeky little thing. Maybe I oughta just turn this reunion car right back around, huh?"

You grinned unrepentantly. "And deprive yourself of soaking up my full admiration for how flawlessly I executed your crazy dish the other night? I don't think so, Chef. You're stuck with me now."

A look you didn't quite catch flickered over Harry's face before his expression softened into something tender and...admiring? "You got me there, pet. I really am damn lucky I've got someone as fiercely dedicated and hardworking as you lookin' out for me."

He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as the valet pulled up a sleek black car. "C'mon then, let's go get that drink and hear all about how you made your old mentor proud once again."

With that, Harry opened the passenger door in a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture, making a theatrical play act of ushering you inside before circling around to the driver's side. Despite the lingering exhaustion evident in his features, an unmistakable lightness and sense of humor had returned to Harry's manner now that he was back in your company. You found yourself charmed all over again by his trademark swagger and grit.

Once Harry had pulled out into Chicago's hectic downtown traffic, he gave a weary but contented exhale. "God, I really did miss the hell out of this place while I was gone. Nothing quite like the thrill of the culinary world, am I right?"

"I'll say," you agreed easily, draining the last of your bottled water. "That whole gala evening was an adrenaline rush like none other."

"So go on then, darlin' - give me all the dirty deets from the frontlines." Hazel eyes glittered with renewed energy as Harry flashed you a wolfish grin. "Did Thomason end up being a totally insufferable hard-ass running the kitchen in my absence, or what?"

Unable to resist indulging him a bit, you launched into a play-by-play recap of how the evening had kicked off. "Well, I'll say this - your boy definitely mastered the art of brusque delegating from the moment I stepped through those doors."

"That definitely tracks," Harry chuckled in amusement.

You held up your hands in a placating gesture. "But honestly, he managed to not be a total nightmare for once. Sure, there were still barked insults and slews of obscenities flying around...but Thomason weirdly seemed more patient with me than usual."

"My best guess is that the hardass saw how much weight I was putting on your shoulders to make sure the night went smoothly," Harry supplied. "He knows damn well not to get in my way when I've got a white whale in my sights."

You felt an undeniable swell of pride at his matter-of-fact confidence in your abilities. "Well, whatever the reason, I can't deny Thomason at least made sure I got briefed on every single responsibility under my purview upfront. Nothing left out or unclear."

"Good, that's what I want to hear," Harry nodded in approval. "You damn well better have been prepped to the gills on every last particular after all the hours we spent running scenarios during practice."

"Oh he made sure of it, believe me," you assured him wryly. "I don't think my head stopped spinning from all the prep tasks and oversight duties he laid on me until we were halfway into evening service."

"That's my girl, always rising to the occasion no matter what fresh hell gets thrown your way," Harry said with unmistakable pride. His gaze flicked over to you with open fondness. "So go on then, I'm dying' to hear about the actual execution part. Did the crew and I at least have you guys trained up good to handle the intricate stuff?"

As if on cue, your mouth curved into a smug grin. "Does a flawless plating of your avant-garde centrepiece dish answer your question? Because let me tell you, Chef, those practice runs may have been hellish - but they paid off in spades. We didn't miss a single beat from start to finish on that thing."

Pride resonated in Harry's rumbling laugh. "Ha! That's what I like to hear. I knew I could count on you to hold down the fort and keep those yutz line cooks from falling apart under the pressure."

"Wow, you really are impressed, huh?" You couldn't resist teasing him a bit. "I didn't think I'd ever see the day where Harry dolled out such lavish praise."

Harry shot you a wry look, but his eyes were twinkling with amusement. "What can I say, you bring out the sappy side in me sometimes, darlin'. Must be all those gooey mentor-mentee feelings."

You laughed, giving him a playful shove. "Sure, keep telling yourself that's what it is. I think we both know the real reason you're so proud of me right now."

"Oh yeah?" Harry's voice dropped an octave, taking on that low, rumbly timbre that never failed to send a shiver down your spine. "And what's that, sweetheart?"

You felt your cheeks warm at the heated undertone in his words, suddenly very aware of the charged tension crackling between you in the confines of the car. Clearing your throat, you opted for a subject change. "So, uh, I have to ask - how are things with your mom? Any updates there?"

Harry's expression sobered instantly, some of the lightness dimming from his eyes as he readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. "It's...been a rough couple of days, that's for sure. But the doctors seem cautiously optimistic after running all their tests and whatnot."

He exhaled a ragged sigh, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the road ahead. "They were able to get her stabilized, at least. Still lots of treatment and recovery ahead, but...the prognosis isn't quite as dire as we initially feared."

"Harry." You reached over to cover his hand with yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "That's such a relief to hear. I'm so glad she's going to be okay."

He glanced over at the contact, eyes flickering with some indecipherable emotion before he slowly turned his palm to lace his fingers through yours. The simple gesture felt impossibly intimate in the dim confines of the car.

"Yeah, me too, pet," Harry said gruffly. He fell silent for a long moment, seeming to struggle against the swell of emotion welling up behind his gruff exterior. When he finally continued, his voice had gone low and husky.

"I gotta admit, having to leave everything and fly out there on such short notice...well, it really puts a lotta stuff in perspective for me, you know? Reminds me that there's more to life than just the goddamn kitchen for once."

You felt your breath catch at the sudden vulnerability in his tone, the rawness shining through those rough-hewn features. This was such an unprecedented side of Harry - one you'd never seen him display so openly before. He wasn't the type to indulge in sappy feelings or put his heart on display.

And yet here he was, opening up to you in a way that felt profoundly intimate. Impulsively, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, silently urging him to continue.

Harry's gaze was soft when he finally looked over at you again. "I've been so focused for so damn long on my career, on chasing that elusive Michelin star...putting in more hours at the restaurant than I do actually sleeping most weeks. It's been all-consuming, you know? To the point where I've let other important stuff get shoved to the back burner for way too long."

There was a weighty pause before he added in a quieter tone, "Stuff like...well, like relationships. Connections with people outside of the kitchen brat pack. Hell, even making time for my own family before it's too late."

His calloused thumb brushed over your knuckles, sending sparks skittering across your skin. "Being out there this week, it made me realize how much I've let slide while chasing my big culinary dreams. How many people and opportunities I've missed out on by being so goddamn single-minded about the hustle."

You felt your heart give a hard thud in your chest at his words, an undercurrent of meaning thrumming through every syllable Harry uttered. Was he actually...was this leading where you desperately hoped it was leading?

"I don't know, Y/N," he continued, voice going soft and rumbly in a way you'd never heard it before. "Maybe it's time I start setting aside room for more than just food in my life again, you know? Making space for the other shit that actually matters in the end."

Without warning, the car slowed before pulling over to the side of the road. You looked around in surprise, momentarily disoriented - only to suck in a sharp breath when you felt the warm press of Harry's palm cradling your jaw, gently but insistently turning your face towards his own.

His hazel eyes were turbulent but gleaming with unmistakable intent as they roamed over your features, seeming to drink in every last freckle and curve. "Like people," Harry murmured, deep voice gone even more rough and gravelly. "Important people who've been right there in front of me this whole damn time, just waiting for me to get my head out of my ass."

Your mouth went dry as his thumb brushed over the swell of your lower lip in a devastatingly tender caress. "You've been so goddamn strong for me lately, darlin'," he rasped. "Taking charge and killing it even when I had to bail on you guys. Honestly, I've never seen someone rise to an occasion like you did with that whole centerpiece service."

A surge of molten heat flared in his gaze as Harry slowly, incrementally leaned closer with every gravelly word. "Which just makes me wonder...what if I told you how crazy you've been driving me lately with that fierce, take-no-shit attitude and work ethic? How distractingly sexy it's been watching you come into your own in the kitchen?"

Coherent thoughts fled in the wake of his scorching words. All you could process was the heated intent burning from every line of his expression, the delicious timbre of his voice as one calloused palm slid around to cradle the nape of your neck.

Any remaining space between you evaporated as Harry drew inexorably nearer, heated breaths fanning over your parted lips. "Maybe it's time we both stopped ignoring this crazy tension that's been building between us, eh?" His words were nearly a growl, sending liquid fire pooling low in your belly.

"Tell me you want this as badly as I do, darlin'," Harry rasped, nose brushing against yours. "Tell me, and I swear to god I'll - "

Whatever devastatingly filthy promise he'd been about to make was suddenly cut off as you surged upwards to crash your lips against his in a heated clash of hunger and need. Harry made a noise of surprise that quickly morphed into a guttural groan as his big hands pulled you flush against his powerful frame, deepening the kiss with smoldering intensity.

All the frustration and undercurrent of want that had simmered untapped for months between you both finally found an outlet as his mouth slanted hungrily over yours. Harry tasted like smoky whiskey and roasted espresso, the scents you'd unknowingly committed to memory from hours spent shadowing him in the kitchen. Now you could finally indulge in the addictive flavor without restraint, losing yourself in the velvet heat of his lips and the wicked stroke of his tongue.

A desperate whimper escaped you as Harry's fingers wound through your hair, tugging just enough to angle your head for even deeper exploration. He swallowed the sound with relish, growling low in his chest as he took control of the ferocious give and take - a twin to the commanding yet sensual way he moved around the kitchen.

Time seemed to lose meaning as you kissed with reckless abandon, hands roaming wildly over the other's body. Your fingers brushing over Harry's hard pecs and rippling abs, committing every ridge and plane to memory. His calloused palms skimming over the flare of your hips, teasing at the sliver of exposed skin above your waistband as he tugged your shirts aside.

"Fuck," he growled, still cradling you tightly against his muscular frame. One hand drifted up the length of your spine to sift through your tousled hair, something breathtakingly tender. "Been wanting to do that for way too goddamn long, sweetheart."

You let out a shaky exhalation, riding the waves of tingling euphoria coursing over your skin. "Me too," you confessed in a huskier tone than you'd ever heard yourself use before. "God, Harry, I–” you stopped the rest of the words before they escaped your mouth, afraid you were going too far too fast. But he tilted his head downwards, raising his eyebrows and asking you to tell him whatever the hell you wanted to.

“I– say it, darlin’” he urged, swiping one thumb over your face, grazing it tenderly across the apple of your cheek, “No more secrets”

Eventually, the scorching inferno of desire raging between you banked to a low, smoldering burn...though no less devastatingly intense for the minor reprieve. Finally, you drew back just far enough for Harry to rest his forehead against yours, harsh breaths intermingling hotly.

You nodded, taking a deep breath and looking straight into his emerald eyes, “I–I, fuck, I need you, Harry. So–so fucking bad it–hurts”

You confessed, and the look that crossed Harry's face was one mixed with relief and the tiniest hint of lust.

You didn’t need to tell him twice because you barely had the time to catch your breath when he crashed his lips down on top of yours, claiming them once again. He slid so he was more close to you now, hands gripping the back of your head and keeping your face in place for him to kiss you hard. He had been waiting for this for so long–all the longing glances, the pent up, fucked up frustration in him–he was bearing all of it into the kiss that left your mind dizzy and lips swollen./

“Fucking exquisite”

He praised you, and you blushed into his mouth. It was all a blur after that–he gripped your thighs tightly, pulling you from the passenger seat and maneuvering you into his lap. You lowered yourself down, the front of your jeans making a slight contact with the tip of his clothed cock, and the whine he let out was pure sin.

“Gonna make me burst”

He held on to your hips, kneading them in his palms as he watched you settle on top of him. You skillfully aligned his seat as abc as it could go, so he was almost laying down while you sat on top of him.

“THose hands–they aren’t just good in the kitchen, are they?” he teased, and since now you were on top, you were feeling more powerful.

“Mhmm,” you agreed, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his chest, smoothening your hands down his golden chest, “Wait till you see what else I can do with these”

He let out a gasp as you leaned in, licking up his abs, and kissing his butterfly tattoo. His hands slid to your waist, kneading the soft flesh in his palms and letting you admire and worship his body.

“Cheeky minx “ he said, but the words were swallowed into a groan as you sucked on his nipples, biting them softly and smirking when he rolled his hips upward. He was getting desperate, hips lifting up every now and then in need for relief.

You continued the onslaught of kisses, but wanted to give the poor millionaire some relief. You reached for the button of his pants, undoing it and unzipping his fly. Sitting back up, you pulled them down to his knees, and the sight of his boxers tented…his cock begging to be released from its confines made your mouth water.

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He sat back up, making you fall back against the steering wheel but caught you just in time, resting his palms on your back. Once you were stable, he undid your jeans as well, wasting no time in pushing one hand inside.

“Oh fuck–Harry–” you cursed, and he could see it on your face–pure lust and arousal. He began to swipe his fingers between your lips, spreading the wetness around and finding your clit–expertly rolling the soft bundle of nerves between his fingers that had you curling your toes. He looked straight into your eyes while doing that too–watching you fall apart from just his fingers.

Once he was done teasing you, he circled his fingers around your entrance, which was completely, devastatingly soaked. You had been dreaming of this for so long–wanting this for so long that now when you were finally going to have him, it felt straight out of a dream.

“So fucking wet–all for me?” he asked, and you nodded, “All–all for you, chef”

“Fuckin’ tease” he cursed before pulling his fingers out, which were now covered in your slick and arousal, and pulling his boxers down, letting hsi cock spring free.

You had seen many cocks. In porn, in real life. But seeing his cock–thick and long, slightly curved towards the tip, which would make it the perfect fit for your needy pussy. The tip was a perfect shade of purplish-red, with a few drops of precum oozing out and making your mouth water once again. You wanted him in your mouth. And he did too, but right now, there wasn’t much time.

You lifted yourself up, pulling your jeans and panties down in one go, till they were near your knees just like his. Positioning yourself right on top of him, he gave his cock a few stroked before resting one hand on your hip. You placed your hands on his shoulders for support, and once your pussy was in contact, his eyes almost rolled into the back of his head.

But he didn’t push it in just yet–rubbed it back and forth between your lips, till your legs threatened to give out, and you squeezed his shoulder.

“Alright, no take backs–” he whispered, and aligned it with your hole, and you pushed yourself down on him, and fuck–was it worth it.

Once he was inside, your mouth fell open. You had been wet, and he hand;t prepped you too much because of it. But the sweet burn of him pushing it in fully–it fueled into your pain kink, and you bit your lower lip, getting up and lowering yourself down on him fully, till your hips were touching his heavy balls.

“So full, I–I feel so fucking full, Harry–” you told him, and he nodded, his adam apple bobbing. He pulled you down for another kiss, and using both hands, he began fucking you on him.

You moaned and screamed into the kiss, the tip of his cock kissing the back of your cervix, his precum leaking from his tip continuously. While you were sure you would be able to take the lead, giving up control and letting him use your body however he wanted–it made you feel really fucking good.

“Good, so fucking good, pet, so tight and snug around me, aren’t you? Could fuck you for days, I swear–”

You would get back at him on that promise for sure, later.

“Denied me of this sweet cunt for so long–gave me those fuck me eyes the first day you came into my restaurant.”

You tried to shake your head to tell him how that wasn’t true, but the words lodged in your throat. You didn’t know how you looked at him, he did.

“No–no Harry, fuck–, I–I wanted to–”

“Fuck me, hmm? The first day you saw me?” he teased, and you pulled his ear lightly.

“No, you dumbo. I–I wanted to push you against the counter and pin your hands beside you and–”

“And fuck me?” he finished your sentence once again, and to get back at him, you squeezed around him. You did it with all the strength you had, and you could swear you felt him harden just a little bit more inside you.

“And how is that different from what I said?” he asked, and you placed your hand over his mouth to shut him up. You tried to ride him this time, using his strong chest to fuck yourself up and down, till your wetness was pooling on the base of his cock. It was a wet mess–your arousals mixed together on the top of his thighs and you were positive it slipped through to the seat.

“Make me–make me cum, chef-” you said, and you felt him smile against your palm. You lifted it up, and he pinned your hands behind your back immediately.

“Chef, huh?” he taunted, and pulled you down for another kiss, halting for mere seconds before you came all over him–wetness oozing out and wetting his cock and balls. He pushed his tongue inside your mouth, the movements mirroring those of his cock in your pussy. It wasn’t long before he came too, emptying himself into your snug heat with a low groan.

He made out with you throughout–never letting your lips rest as his seed filled you up to the brim. The warm feeling had you dizzy, being filled up by the man you admired and wanted for years.

Once you were relaxed, tongues dancing in slow motions, he pulled out and pulled your panties back in place, saving his cum from falling into embarrassing places. You rolled your eyes at him, adjusting your clothes and sitting back on the seat beside.

His eyes gazed into yours with adoration, the car filled with the smell of sex and sweat. The lingering scent of finally giving into something that was building up since day one–it made you feel happy and vulnerable.

He reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, letting his palm linger against your cheek in a tender caress.

"You know, I meant what I said before about not wanting to let this amazing opportunity between us slip away," he murmured, eyes shining sincerely. "After everything we've been through, you've become one of the most important people in my life, darlin'."

You felt your heart swell at his words, leaning into his touch with a soft smile. "And you're one of the most incredible men I've ever known, Harry. I'm just...I'm so grateful we finally took this leap together."

Chuckling warmly, Harry pulled you into a snug embrace, pressing his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss. "Well, you'd better get used to having me around then, sweetheart. Because I don't plan on going anywhere."

Reaching up, you cradled his whiskered jaw, marveling at how such a hardened culinary genius could look so endearingly unsure in the wake of baring his heart. A soft smile curved your lips as you stroked along the line of his cheekbone with your thumb.

"Harry," you began, keeping your tone low and earnest. "I just want you to know...what we share goes far deeper for me than just some crush or physical attraction. You've been such an incredible mentor, certainly - pushing me to my limits and helping me discover a resilience I didn't know I had. But more than that, you've also become one of the most important people in my life these past few months."

He seemed to still against you, holding his breath as he searched your expression intently. Encouraged by the yearning shining from those soulful hazel eyes, you pressed onward.

"From the very first day, there was just...something about the way you carry yourself in that kitchen, so passionate and uncompromising in your artistry. It inspired me in a way I've never experienced before. And as I got to know the man behind the chef's coat better and better, that admiration grew into something...well, something I couldn't ignore or push away, no matter how much I tried."

You gave a rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "Not that I'm proud of how I handled that, especially at first. I was so terrified of being just another young line cook with an embarrassing crush on the big-shot chef, you know? Of risking the most rewarding professional relationship I've ever had by letting feelings get in the way. So I tried my damnedest to squash it down and keep things strictly business between us."

Harry made a low noise of understanding, one calloused palm drifting up to cradle the side of your face with ineffable tenderness. The pad of his thumb brushed over your lower lip as he gazed at you with naked longing.

"But the more time we spent together, the more I came to realize I wasn't alone in what I was feeling," you continued, emboldened by the smoldering affection gleaming in his expression. "Those heated looks and moments of banter that always left me weak in the knees...the way you'd find any excuse to touch me, even if it was just your hand on my back or brushing my arm. And don't think I didn't catch that molten vibe you gave me after the gala service the other night, Harry."

You gave a breathless chuckle at the memory, watching in satisfaction as his eyes darkened perceptibly from the reminder. "Point is, it's been pretty damn obvious to me for a while now that this crazy, inexplicable tension has been building between us. And after tonight...after you pour your heart out about wanting to open yourself up to something deeper outside of just the kitchen...well, I knew I had to finally stop fighting it."

Cradling his rugged features between your palms, you gazed at Harry with profound sincerity. "I don't want to just be another protegee you take under your wing, Harry. I want...god, I want so much more than that if you'll have me. As more than just your mentee."

The silence that fell between you seemed to stretch out into infinite stillness - until finally, Harry broke it with a shuddering exhalation. His features softened into an expression of pure affection and naked vulnerability.

"Darlin'," he murmured in that low, gravelly timbre that had haunted your dreams. "I gotta say, you're one hell of a woman. Smart, fiercely passionate, and talented as all hell in the kitchen. Any chef in their right mind would count themselves lucky to have that kind of force on their line."

One calloused thumb brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead in an achingly tender gesture. "But the more I got to know you, the more I realized you were so much more than just a hell of a cook. You've got this...this fire inside, this core of unshakable integrity, that shines through in everything you do."

A slow, lopsided grin curved his mouth as Harry seemed to drink in your features hungrily. "Truth is, I've been half in love with you since the first time you went toe-to-toe with me over mise en place and didn't back down one inch. Kidfron called me out a while back, said I needed to get my head out and stop being an idiot about my feelings before I lost my shot with you. And you know what? He was right."

You heard the sharp breath you sucked in at his unexpected confession, suddenly feeling lightheaded from the rushing euphoria of having your own deepest desires affirmed. Harry's smile softened into something unbearably tender.

"I meant what I said earlier, about needing to start making room in my life for stuff that actually matters now," he murmured. "No more letting amazing opportunities or people slip through my fingers while I'm off chasing the next culinary high, you know? From here on out, I wanna do this thing with you - the real deal, not just heated flings or fooling around when it's convenient."

One calloused palm drifted up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your wildly fluttering pulse. "That is...if you're sure you want to go all in with this crazy bastard and whatever baggage he's got. Because I sure as shit don't plan on letting you go after everything we've been through, darlin'. You're stuck with me now."

The last words were issued in a low, rumbly rasp brimming with naked want and promise. You felt a shiver of pure yearning race down your spine as Harry slowly, inexorably drew you back into the smoldering field of his orbit.

"Just to be clear," you murmured, drunk on the whiskey-smoke scent and pure masculine essence of him, "I am absolutely, one-hundred percent sure I want to dive into this thing with you, Harry . The real deal, as you put it - not as mentor and mentee, but as...as partners in every sense of the word."

A smile you couldn't suppress bloomed over your features as you nuzzled his whiskered jaw adoringly. "You, me, and whatever crazy culinary adventures lie ahead...I can't wait."

Harry rumbled out a low, contented chuckle that vibrated against your skin deliciously. "Sounds perfect to me, darlin'," he rasped, "Absolutely freakin' perfect."

Silence fell between you then, stretching out in a tender, infinitely rich moment of shared affection and promise. Of two hearts irreversibly entwined, embarking together on an endeavor that would change the course of both your lives immeasurably.

Though the road ahead would surely present its own tangle of twists, turns, and daunting challenges yet to come...in that ephemeral pocket of stillness, cradled in the heart of Harry's powerful embrace, you had never felt more vibrantly alive or certain of the path destiny had laid out before you.

No matter what obstacles or battles awaited around the bend, you knew without a shred of doubt that you would confront them as you did everything else - side-by-side with your partner, your equal, your soulmate in every possible sense. Two culinary spirits, unified at long last in a blissful, rapturous understanding.

The rest of the world could keep spinning wildly outside the sheltered cocoon you had woven together. But in this perfect, crystalline moment frozen in time...nothing else mattered beyond the blazing truth ignited between you. From here on out, you would walk through the fire of any culinary pursuit, hand-in-hand, soul-to-soul alongside the man who held your heart.

And in the end, that's all that would ever matter again.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! this series is done, but I'm always open to doing extras and check-ins!

feedback/requests | masterlist | series masterlist

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli

@tchlamqtsgf @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely

@whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @harryhitties

@mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @chesthairrry

@becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @hisparentsgallerryy @storyschanging @selluequestrian @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777

@imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa

522 notes · View notes

its-avalon-08 · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! i love daniel riccardo and lando norris, can you maybe do one where you are daniel's best friend and end up falling for lando? you grew up in an abusive childhood so daniel is fiercly protective of u, and he doesn't like that lando is flirting with u (daniel and y/n is purely platonic pls),

i'll always be your home (dr3 platonic + ln4)

tw- abusive household

the monaco grand prix was always a chaotic spectacle, but this year, the real drama was brewing off the track. you, ever the loyal friend, sat with daniel in the mclaren hospitality area, dodging champagne showers and lando's relentless teasing.

"hey bubs," lando sidled up, a mischievous glint in his eye, "think you can handle a real yacht party later? not like those snooze-fests danny drags you to."

daniel, already bristling at lando's nickname for you, snorted. "actually, y/n loves classic rock marathons. much better than your dubstep-infused ear torture."

you squeezed daniel's arm, stifling a laugh. "don't worry, honey badger, i can handle both." you'd picked up his playful nickname for himself, a constant reminder of his unwavering support.

growing up in an abusive environment had left scars, but daniel had become your anchor. he saw past your nervous flinches and forced smiles, his protectiveness a constant comfort.

later that night, under the twinkling lights of monte carlo, you found yourself drawn to lando's easy charm. you dueled with him on jet skis, his laughter echoing across the water, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. he felt like home, like a sense of comfort and safety.

noticing your growing closeness, daniel pulled you aside. his smile was strained. "y/n, are you ok?"

"yeah, why wouldn't i be?"

"lando," he said, his voice low. "he can be… a lot."

you sighed. "daniel, i can handle lando. i want to handle him."

silence stretched between you. daniel's gaze softened, a hint of pain flashing through his blue eyes. "i just want to make sure you're happy, safe. you deserve the best, y/n."

tears welled up in your eyes. you squeezed his hand. "i am happy, thanks to you. you're like a brother to me and i love you for it, but… lando makes me feel…" you trailed off, unable to articulate the unfamiliar butterflies in your stomach.

daniel chuckled, the sound laced with relief. "like you're on a rollercoaster? lando can be a bit of a daredevil." he paused, then added, "but if he ever hurts you…"

you finished his sentence with a mock glare. "honey badger unleashed, right?"

he grinned, the familiar twinkle back in his eyes. "exactly. now, go have fun. just… promise me you'll be careful, alright?"

you threw your arms around him in a hug. "always."

the next few weeks were a whirlwind. you and lando went on secret dates, stolen kisses under the guise of "team strategy meetings." daniel, ever the detective, noticed your flushed cheeks and lingering smiles, but a relieved smile played on his lips whenever he saw you genuinely happy.

the sun beat down on the budapest paddock, reflecting off lando's helmet as he peeled it off. daniel, ever the opportunist, snagged him before he could disappear.

"lando, a word?" daniel's voice was quiet, a stark contrast to his usual boisterousness.

lando followed him into a shaded corner, a playful grin fading as he saw the seriousness etched on daniel's face. "alright, mate, what's up?"

daniel hesitated, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. "look, lando, i know you and y/n have been… hitting it off lately."

lando's grin returned, a touch sheepish. "yeah, she's pretty awesome, isn't she?"

"she is," daniel agreed, his voice heavy. "but there's something you need to know about her."

lando's smile faltered completely. he'd noticed the flinch y/n sometimes had, the way she seemed to shut down in certain situations. he hadn't pushed, but it had gnawed at him.

daniel took a deep breath. "y/n… she's been through a lot. more than you know." he hesitated again, then continued, his voice low. "she doesn't deserve to be hurt, lando. not again."

lando felt a pang in his chest. the playful teasing suddenly felt cruel in light of what daniel was implying. "hurt her? mate, i would never—"

daniel cut him off, his voice thick with emotion. "you wouldn't believe the things she's had to deal with. the strength it takes her just to get through the day…" he trailed off, wiping a hand across his eyes. "i just… i promised myself i'd protect her."

lando stared at him, his heart clenching. he'd never seen daniel like this, so vulnerable. a new respect bloomed for the man who was more than just a teammate, but a fierce protector.

"daniel," lando said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. "listen to me. y/n is incredible. kind, funny, strong as hell. and the way she lights up when you talk to her… it's something special."

daniel looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "you… you care about her?"

"care about her?" lando scoffed, a genuine smile breaking through. "mate, i'm smitten. i haven't been able to stop thinking about her since that night in monaco. but trust me, hurting her is the last thing i'd ever do. i want to make her happy, to be there for her the way you have been."

daniel's shoulders slumped in relief. a watery smile played on his lips. "just… don't mess up, alright? she deserves the world."

"i know," lando promised, a newfound determination burning in his eyes. "i'll take care of her, mate. you can count on me."

from then on, things shifted. lando toned down the teasing, replaced by genuine care. he made an effort to understand your past, offering a supportive ear and a shoulder to lean on.

the hungarian twilight cast long shadows across the budapest track, the last embers of the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. you leaned against the railing, the city lights twinkling below, a bittersweet ache settling in your chest.

the race had been exhilarating, a nail-biting finish that left you breathless. lando and daniel did amazingly.

suddenly, a familiar voice broke the silence. "lost in thought, shoey queen?" lando stood beside you, his blue eyes holding a hesitant warmth.

you offered a small smile. "just reflecting on the race. it was incredible."

he nodded, then cleared his throat nervously. "listen, y/n, there's something i… something i've been wanting to say."

his vulnerability sent a jolt through you. you'd seen lando's playful facade, the charming daredevil who thrived on competition. but this lando, standing before you with a tremor in his voice, was captivating.

"alright," you encouraged, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

he took a deep breath. "these past few weeks… they've been incredible. getting to know you, not just as daniel's best friend, but as y/n. you're strong, funny, and you have this incredible spark in your eyes that makes me want to be a better person."

his words washed over you, each one a brushstroke painting a picture of affection you hadn't dared to imagine. tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of joy and a fear of vulnerability you hadn't fully conquered.

"y/n," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "i know you've been through a lot. and i want you to know, whatever it is, i'm here for you. to listen, to support you, to be your shoulder to cry on."

he reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that trailed down your cheek. the simple touch ignited a thousand unspoken emotions within you.

"so," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "would you like to… maybe go out sometime? just you and me. no strategy meetings or champagne showers, just a chance to get to know each other better."

the weight of his sincerity settled upon you, a comforting blanket against your past hurts. you met his gaze, a newfound determination sparkling in your own eyes.

"i'd like that very much, lando," you whispered, a single tear slipping down your cheek, this time a tear of pure hope.

he smiled, a radiant beam that chased away the twilight shadows. in that moment, under the budapest sky, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, you knew this was just the beginning of something special.

later that night, you found daniel by the pool, a beer in his hand. "so," he said gruffly, "what happened with lando?"

a shy smile spread across your face. "he asked me out. officially."

he raised an eyebrow. "and?"

"and i said yes."

his lips twitched. "about time, shoey queen." he held you in a tight hug. "just promise me one thing."

you pulled back, concern flickering in your eyes. "anything."

"take care of each other. and if he ever breaks your heart…"

"honey badger unleashed, i know."

you both laughed, the sound echoing through the night. you knew daniel would always be there, a fierce protector turned loving friend, and with lando by your side, you were finally ready for something more.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎��🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

505 notes · View notes