#I'm going to miss Canada so much when I leave. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joosthead · 3 months

Note

SMUT PROMPT 2 PLZZZ

just too soft for all of it || j.k. f!reader

₊˚⊹⋆ prompt(s): 2S) crying crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over & 3F) gently pushing their hair behind their ear to see their face better

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader, no pronouns, reader gets referred to as his “favourite girl” one time. notfamous!reader lol also does not speak dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 4.4k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (fingering, piv), a good amount of negative self thought (i may have gone overboard—feeling inadequate as a partner, reader is very hard on themself and quite sensitive), mentions of anxiety/stress/being overwhelmed, a very fluffy and healthy joost :( aur i love him anyways, pls heed the prompt cuz that in itself is a content warning teehee, 🧀🧀🧀alert i can’t lie!!, a variety of dutch terms of endearment i'm not sure i’m using right but it’s for the sake of no y/n

₊˚⊹⋆ track of the fic: "sweet nothing" by taylor swift

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: i resonate heavy with this 🙃🙃 had the worst last few weeks of this uni year but i’m FREE!!!! thanks for requesting this, i combined this with a few other asks stated above! happy first juno joost fic to meee yippeee

rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it!! you've been warned. please do not repost this on any other platform.

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni.

To say the utter least—it had been a hard few weeks for you.

The whims of life carried you away like a tsunami to your normal routine—work and classes and friends and family and life, life that you couldn’t ignore or get away from like you wanted to do, nothing to do except doing it. And you’d been doing it, just fine for the most part, but one thing led to another, and the last week was a whirlwind of commitments, obligations, your procrastinating on all of them, somehow. You got yourself into a mess of your own making.

It certainly didn’t help that your boyfriend, Joost, was away for his own life: a festival performance in Canada, one in Belgium, one in the Netherlands but not one you could attend easily with all of the work you had for yourself. After that, he worked on the new album in Germany, putting the final touches on his 9th project, filming new content and preparing for his upcoming tour.

He left around the beginning of when your life started getting busier. If you added it up—23 days you hadn’t seen him in person, but it’s not like you were counting (you were counting, and sad the entire time about his absence.). It felt like the same amount of time you hadn’t even seen or talked to him, through the phone, on Facetime, even texting each other.

Voice memos in the bathroom at work, always apologizing for how rushed you had to be; leaving him on delivered for hours as you studied, or had an event you needed to be at, or had a person you needed to talk to, someone else who needed your time more than Joost needed yours, and it was too much. All of it was too much. Too much for you to handle easily, every second taken by someone else.

You felt like a terrible partner, not being able to speak to him as much as you wanted. Seeing all of his messages, the reassurance that he understands how busy you are and that in the end, you'll always make time for each other…his ability to be such a good partner held up next to your perceived inadequacy made you even more stressed.

In the end, it’ll all work out—today, Joost flew back home, though you still had a number of commitments and assignments to get to and couldn’t pick him up from the airport. Your mutual friend picked him up, and you bit your nails at every update given; willing the time to go slower so you could tidy up more, work on that one last piece of paperwork so you wouldn’t have to worry about it, make sure everything is perfect so Joost can have a good welcome back.

In the nick of time, you were able to get everything done, but it still felt as if there was something missing, like you'd be hit with a missed deadline in the midst of your time back together, and it would all come crumbling down.

As you opened the door, right as your friend pulled up to your street, you tried to put it aside, and you did—for now. Late afternoon and you stand at the top of your townhouse steps, watching in nervous excitement as Joost unloads his luggage from the trunk. Your friend closes the trunk and waves at you.

You wave back, but your eyes are on Joost as he gathers the two suitcases and starts rolling them to you in a sort of disorganized frenzy, just as excited as you are; you would come forward and help, but it’s cute to watch him, clumsy and stumbling over his long pants and tote bag and everything—your Joost, finally back with you.

He wears a heavy black jacket, sunglasses, a black cap that he takes off and shakes his hair out of; the sun shines off him, and you can't help but smile at the sight. His hair grew out a little, the darker blonde roots growing in. Those jeans are ones you’ve never seen before, new glasses, new clunky boots that look greatly uncomfortable but perfectly his style. Evidence of the time passed, and for some strange reason, it brings a pang to your chest that you try to ignore as you come down the steps of your house.

“Come here, come here, come here, baby, I missed you,” Joost exclaims, arms open and leaving his bags behind him to come meet you halfway, laughing.

You say as you hug him around his neck, his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t pick—”

“Don’t worry about it, I know you were busy.”

You nod as he moves his arms around your neck and you go around his waist, Joost pecking your cheek several times and making you laugh. “I still feel bad I couldn’t pick you up.”

“Never feel bad, you’d still be the best even if you left me on the side of the road.” You give him and his compliment a weak smile as you pull away.

—

The first time you get a moment to yourself in a month: Joost’s head lays in your lap as you both watch some cartoon on the couch together after eating.

You cleaned most of yesterday and some of today; you cooked most of last night since you knew you had more time, preparing Joost’s favorite meal—it was the best you could reasonably do, considering all of the other obligations you had in these last two days.

As he ate, you pushed around your own food; would’ve made it fresh, could've had a nice table setting for dinner, should’ve prepared more for all of this. You still gave him a sheepish smile as you watched him happily eat the microwaved meal you warmed up for him, no indication at all that he’s disappointed or unhappy like you are with yourself. You shouldn’t feel like this, but you do. It’s getting increasingly difficult to shake.

The colors and lines dance across the TV, spouting raunchy jokes that you can half understand with the few years of Dutch you have under your belt; the air conditioner is on, and you can finally rest. Joost is changed out of his airport outfit and into some shorts and a shirt. He’s home, and you did the best you could do, and now he’s in your arms again.

You don’t even mean to, but you sigh, perhaps louder than usual, because Joost looks up at you from your lap, brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes, says, “You’re the best, you know?”

It catches you off guard enough that you shake your head almost instinctively, not fast enough to hide…whatever feeling this is you’re feeling. “I don’t feel like it, Joosty.”

“You don’t?” He gets up from your lap, sitting next to you, and brings his face close to yours. “You should, because you are.”

Your noses are brushing, and even in the midst of your racing thoughts, you can't help but smile at him. His face grows into a smile, and you come forward and kiss him, deeply; you know it takes him by surprise, how he takes a little to kiss back, like trying to learn each other again. Nonetheless, he kisses back, holding your face in his hands, grinning into it—he's so pleased, so content, you know it by how sweetly he holds you.

The TV becomes background noise to you, the air conditioner no use with how hot you feel when you move to sit atop him in his lap, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your ass as you grind down on him, licking into his mouth.

“You're so tense,” Joost says when you pull away, thumbs rubbing into your back where there are sure to be knots in your muscles.

You roll your eyes. “Can you blame me?” you snicker and he smiles.

“I’ll relieve some tension for you, then.”

Nothing but a few layers of clothes separate you—he smells so good, tastes so good, feels so good that you pull away, run your hands underneath his shirt, feeling his warm body, his stomach. You move to take it off of him, and he’s a step ahead of you, taking it off himself and attaching his lips to yours again, like a magnet.

“You’re not wasting any time,” he says as you rest your hands on his chest and kiss down his stubble covered jaw to his neck, on top of Lola Bunny and back up again.

“I need you, Joost,” you breathe in between kisses, and he pulls back and groans which makes you giggle, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can't just say that, oh my god,” Joost whines, looking up at you pathetically, pupils blown and lips swollen from yours. “That’s so hot,” he laughs, and it makes you laugh too, how ridiculous he is. “Fuck, I love you.” He comes back in for one more kiss before he shifts so you can lay down on the couch, and he's on top of you, kissing again. He helps you shimmy down your shorts, your underwear, and in no time—his hand is between your legs.

“I would have taken it slow but—I’m too excited,” he breathes. You palm his hard cock through his shorts, coaxing a sigh out of him. Joost hovers above, leaning on one elbow and using the other hand to run his fingers through your slit, wetting them with how aroused you are. Involuntarily, your legs twitch, your breath catches in your mouth, and Joost gives you a soft laugh. “You’re so sensitive, schat.” Fingers still touching you so gently, he noses at your cheek—you’re a hairpin trigger, how reactive you are to him. “Has it been that long?”

Breathless, you nod as he presses his thumb to your clit, petting at it. “Too long, I was waiting for you.”

“I could say the same for you.”

You sit up, pushing up against him, still kissing like you can’t bear to be separated from him, but he pulls back from you—brings two fingers to his mouth, wetting them with his spit, and the sight brings your heart to your stomach with how arousing it is.

Sure, Joost sends videos; yes, you have…homemade…videos of your own between the two of you; his deep voice through the speaker in your late night Facetimes, talking you through it or his incessant compliments when you send him some pictures of your own.

Nothing compares to the real thing—the smell of his cologne on his collar even after he’s taken a shower; his blonde hair in your eyes as he kisses you; holding onto his strong arms as he fingers you, the wet sound music to your ears though normally, it would make you sheepish at how filthy this all is.

Sometimes it makes you laugh that the random guy you met with a Crazy Frog tattoo on his forearm is now your boyfriend, but it feels so serious now more than ever. You realize now how much you’ve missed him, and how much you’ve pushed down that feeling in favor of everything else.

Joost crooks his fingers inside of you and you moan into his mouth, which he smiles at. “You like it?” he asks, both of you knowing the answer. He knows you so well, inside and out. Knows that spot inside of you that renders you unable to speak, how to hit it just right like it’s muscle memory to fuck you with his fingers. He rubs your clit at the same time, using his spit and your wetness to do so, and God—you wish never leaving this spot was an option.

Your climax fast approaches you; Joost kissing at the side of your lips, your chin because you’re too lost in your pleasure to kiss back. With a few more pumps of his fingers, he brings you there, a choked moan tumbling from your mouth as you cum, almost falling into him as he takes you through the last waves of your orgasm. “Thank you,” you breathe, pressing a deep kiss to his lips again now that you have the ability to.

“Thanking me? Nothing to thank me for,” he says, but you shake your head.

“I disagree,” you say quietly, palming over his erection once more now that you’ve gathered yourself. “I have everything to thank you for,” you think, but can’t say out loud. You move so you can be on your knees on the ground in between his legs. It’s been quite a bit, enough so that the program on the TV is completely different now, the AC has turned off—he’s still so hard, still hasn’t been taken care of.

You're about to lower his shorts, take him into your mouth, but Joost takes your hand and says, “Can we skip it? I wanna be inside of you, lieverd.”

Almost a whisper, you reply, “Whatever you want,” nodding, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“You’re so quiet today. Is anything wrong?” He can read you like a book, the furrowing of your brow at his suggestion an easy giveaway.

“Nothing’s the matter,” you lie, but he still looks disbelieving. “I just wanted to give you something back.”

“This is something back and more, baby. Lie down.”

You do, too tired to argue for your side—the side that wants to give Joost everything you have and more, pay him back for the time you’ve been so absent, so distracted from your relationship and all the things Joost had been doing in the time away. It’s not as if you don’t want to lie down and have him fuck you—it’s just that you feel that you haven’t earned it yet.

Your body language gives you away—“Still so tense, lieverd,” he says, squeezing your shoulder as you adjust, legs on either side of his thighs. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Of course I do,” you purr, because of course you do, reaching into his briefs—Joost Klein branded, of course—and pulling his cock out, jerking it a few times and making him groan with the sensation. “You're so sensitive,” you quote him from earlier. “Has it been that long, schat?”

The pet name makes his cock twitch; a month away, hard work on his album and music videos, content and marketing, coming back home to his favourite girl gazing at him starry-eyed with a hand around his dick and ready to take him inside. If you peered into his mind, this is what he’d be thinking. No thoughts match your worried thinking about how you may or may not have let him down—you didn’t. That would be impossible, at least to him.

“Much too long.”

You rest your head on a throw pillow that Joost has laid for you, and he lines himself up with your entrance. Fingertips on his stomach, you stop him for a few seconds from coming forward, and you wrap your hand around his shaft, swiping it through your slit a few times, collecting your wetness and his pre-cum on the head of his cock.

Loudly, he swears in Dutch, and the latter half sounds more like a strangled whisper than any real word. “You…fuck, my god…you are evil,” he laughs, even though he’s now rubbing the head of it against your clit, making you mewl.

“You ready for me?” he asks, and you nod, licking your lips, trying to control your breathing. Your initial apprehension is long gone, though it could creep back every second—who cares? You’re finally together again. “You’re so wet,” Joost breathes as he eases the head of his cock into you. The stretch is something to get used to after so long away, but he gives time for you to adjust—seems like he might need it more than you do, how he sucks a breath in through gritted teeth, the snail’s pace he's going at. “I might cum right now.”

“You promise?” you tease, watching the slow slide of his cock inside of you, watching just like he is.

“I might have to promise with how this is going.”

“You can do it,” you giggle and then moan because he's managed to fit half of his length into you. “I believe in you.”

“Yay,” Joost smiles as he bottoms out in you, then gives you a kiss. “We did it!”

He holds his hand up for a high-five and you laugh—”I’m not high-fiving you while you're inside me.”

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

Rolling your eyes, you give him the high-five he so desperately wants and he beams at you with a toothy grin. “Never, I guess.”

“Never,” Joost repeats, and then straightens up. You look up at him through your eyelashes—his mullet is mussed from the tangles of your fingers through his hair, his chest moving steadily up and down with the exertion of this all. He moves your legs so your left ankle rests on his shoulder, the right wrapped around his hips.

His hand creeps up your shirt, and you do the rest, exposing your tits to him. Joost is normally so clumsy, so heavy-handed—what a contrast that he can be so calm dragging his fingertips around your nipple, making it pebble in the cold.

He cups your cheek after you moan, then runs his tattooed knuckles down it, slips his thumb between your lips and hooks it on your teeth momentarily—you chase it, but he continues down your chest and to your belly until his thumb is finally back on your clit and circling it slowly.

The drag of his cock out of you is wonderful, so wonderful it makes you shudder when he does it, combined with his terribly slow treatment of your clit.

“My baby, did you miss me?” Joost says softly, kissing at your calf, your ankle as he sinks back into you. The sensation robs you of a response, a sigh tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it, but he takes it as a response enough. The smile on his face—the beauty mark under his lip, those deep dimples so prominent—you could never tire of it. “I missed you more, schatje.”

It feels so good, it feels like heaven being with him again. He comes back from such a busy time in his life, where you’ve done little, and all he has is praise and warmth and affection for you—fingers you within an inch of your life and doesn’t even ask for anything in return, just takes care of you in the way you need most.

You know that he benefits from this just as much as you do—this isn’t so one-sided. But your brain is so frazzled from this last month, the nerve endings fried and in want of a fuck up to cling to like they have been whenever you’ve made a mistake at work, in class, in your relationship.

Joost interrupts your thoughts: “I was so happy to see you on the steps, I could’ve sprinted to you if I wasn’t wearing those damn shoes.”

All of the times that you forgot to reply to Joost, getting a text saying your name and a sad face right after; the times where you were too distracted to give him your full attention and could only hum your acknowledgement to him, having to be reminded about what he said later; that one time just a few days ago you fell asleep on call with him in the middle of him excitedly speaking about a breakthrough with a bridge on the most important song of the album.

The pleasure you felt earlier is now overshadowed by your racing thoughts.

“I wrote a song about you, you know?” Joost says, his voice so gentle. I was only going to let you know when the album came out, but I can’t keep a secret.” Rocking against you, his pelvis rubs against your clit and it makes you cling to his shoulders. “The voice memo I sent you earlier—it was my first draft, just me. Did you like it?”

“You…you wrote a song about me?”

Only now do you remember the voice memo Joost sent you in the morning when you were still cleaning, the one that you saw and made a fleeting mental note to reply to later on, which you promptly forgot as you vacuumed, dusted, folded.

Such misplaced priorities, and now you're paying the sad price.

“Joost,” you say, eyebrows screwing up, that all too familiar pulling feeling behind your nose and eyes—you realize quickly that all of the emotions bottled up inside of you from the past month have come out with vengeance at the new knowledge of Joost’s song about you. The knowledge wouldn’t have been new if you just paid more attention.

You try to hold it back, pushing down the feelings again, but it just won’t work. All of it spilling over at the worst possible time, tears streaming down your face before you even know it. You fail to wipe the wetness from your cheeks—Joost stops his movements, asks in a panicked and concerned voice, “Oh my—are you crying, schat?”

Attempting to pull it together once more, you cover your face with your hands and shake your head silently, but your already sniffly nose sells you out. Your shoulders shake with your crying. Too far gone now.

“I wanted—“ you sniffle, and he hands you a tissue from the side table for you to blow your nose into as he stumbles out and off of you. “I wanted to be with you tonight, but I just—so much—I never—I never listened to your memo, I couldn’t, I had to finish so much before you got here and I couldn’t and I feel so bad, like, you wrote a song about me and I didn’t even have the time to listen—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Joost coos, brushing your hair out of your eyes as you sob. “Baby, please.” His expression is so concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he pats your back. “Wait, shit,” he says, getting up from the couch and looking down at his still bare bottom half. “Let me put everything back on, I’m sorry schatje, give me—“ In a hurry, he puts his underwear and shorts back on, tripping over himself and almost falling over. “I just can’t do this naked, I’m sorry.”

That brings a laugh out of you and a laugh out of him, and you start explaining as he sits back down next to you, rubbing your arm. “I don’t—I don’t deserve you.” You shake your head, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. “I should’ve listened to what you sent me, I should’ve been there more.”

“Bro,” he deadpans, beckoning you to come and sit on his lap.

You do, still trying to get the tears out of your eyes as you settle into his arms. “Shut up, don’t call me bro while I’m crying,” you laugh, voice weak but lighthearted.

“Bro. I will do it again.” Joost gives you a second to let it out more, to breathe as he smooths his hands back and forth on your back. “You did everything perfectly, lieverd. Perfectly. We were both so busy, and you still made time to call me and text me. I would have been lost without you, I know for certain.”

You shake your head. “I forgot to reply and pick up your texts so many times, Joost, I felt like such a bad person for doing so.”

“You did? I didn’t notice. All I cared about was that you replied. You’re not a bad person at all,” Joost says, and the sweetness of his words just make you want to cry more. “I appreciate more from you the effort that you put into everything, into what we have. Not what you couldn’t or didn’t do.”

“You’re so nice,” you whisper, sniffling. You can’t think of a better compliment with how overwhelmed you are, so you kiss him, instead, and he kisses back. Even with this, you can tell how gentle Joost is holding your cracked pieces back together.

“I’m nice?” he asks, smiling. “Best compliment I’ve ever gotten.” For a little, you both sit there in the silence together. “How about this—tomorrow, we can have a day to ourselves. You can lounge and study by the pool, and I’ll be your little butler or whoever and we can just relax for a bit, hm? Order food, drink, smoke, whatever.” Pausing, he grins. “We can even listen to the whole album, if you want.”

“You finished it?” you ask, sitting up more and incredulous. That’s complete news to you.

“This morning, right before I flew back here,” Joost says, nodding proudly. “I also texted you, but duty calls, no?”

“You texted me?” He texted you? And you missed it?!?!? Again, the new information makes you cry, and he holds you tight as you do. “You should be mad that I didn’t see it,” you say in between dry heaves into his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I could never be mad at you, lieverd, and I’m sorry I made you cry again,” he says, rubbing your back, petting your hair. “I just wanted to let you know when I did it—it was just a timestamp, that doesn’t mean you needed to know right that second.”

“But I wanted to know.”

“You know now, and I know how proud you are of me. That’s enough, that’s even more than what I wanted.” You trust him and his words so fully, every passing second with him is another way to help you feel better. “I love you,” Joost says your name so seriously, a punctuation to his love letter. “I mean it.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him, deeply, moments passing that you use to thank everything you can that he’s so good with your worries, your anxieties. “I’ll take you up on that offer for tomorrow, Joost,” you say, finally calmed down enough. Your eyes are incredibly bleary—you didn’t know that was possible. But at least you aren’t actively crying anymore. “Thank you for everything.”

“Thank you for giving me something more to look forward to, schat. Now—let’s go run a bath together and listen to my song for you.”

#joost klein #joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost x you #joost klein x you #joost #joost smut #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfiction #juno's fics #answered prompt #smut prompts #juno’s smut

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quintinh43 · 7 months

Text

Fucking Canada | Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke is out with an injury, Y/n is on break from school. Obviously, the only logical thing is for them to head down to Vancouver to visit Quinn.

Pairings: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Meantions of Anxiety, Drinking (drink responsibly kids), Some light suggestive content. Use of the name Mariana. Let me know if I missed anything!

Wc: 4.9k

This one's for @toasttt11, stay awesome 🫶🏼

---

Luke had been been out with an injury for a week. And it was driving him insane. He had begged and begged the trainers to at least allow him on the ice with the team. He'd batted his long eyelashes and given them puppy dog eyes and the famous Hughes pout, yet somehow they resisted and firmly told him he was not to touch a pair of skates until after his two-week check up.

And that was only if his check-up came back all ok. So in his boredom, he flew down to Michigan to spend time with you, and then decided that as soon as your break started he was flying both of you down to Vancouver for the week, because fuck he missed his big brother.

He rolled his wrist around in its brace, and you smack him in the chest. "Stop doing that. You're gonna aggravate your wrist and make it worse."

"Baby, I swear its fine," he whined, "The trainers don't know what they're talking about."

You snort, and grab his arm, pinning it beneath your torso, being careful to ensure that the strained part of his wrist was not under you.

"Baby, please," he whined, tugging his arm gently. "Let me up,"

"Only if you promise to stop rolling your wrist." You glare.

"I promise" Luke mumbles shifting towards you to run his lips along your jaw. Your stomach flutters, pink dusts across your cheeks, and you let him go immediately. He leans on his elbows and kisses down your neck.

"Luke" you whisper breathlessly.

"Hmm" he hums, nipping at the sensitive skin along the column of your troat.

You bite your lip, debating telling him off. But kissing Luke is much much better than studying physiology, and you haven't had a break in a while. You slam your textbook shut, and all but kick it off the bed.

"You're such a menace," you huff, he wraps his uninjured arm around you, and drags himself fully on top of you, kissing gently down your neck.

"You know you love me," he grins.

"You're lucky I do, Hughes. Now get back to kissing me,"

"Yes ma'am," he chuckles, lips dancing along your collarbones.

There's a knock on your door and before you can tell whoever it is to fuck off, your roommate and best university friend; Mariana barges in.

"Enough sexy time, kids!" she says, ignoring the murderous glares both you and Luke throw her way, "If you still want a ride to the airport, we are leaving in ten." She walks out, leaving the door open. You sigh, nudging Luke with your shoulder, to get off of you. He pecks one last kiss to your cheek and rolls off you, pulling you to your feet so the two of you can get all your things together.

You slide your laptop into your bag, grab all your chargers, and make sure you have an extra set of headphones. Because God knows the worst thing that could possibly happen is being stuck on an airplane with no muisc. After double and triple checking that you have everything, Mariana ushers you out the door hurriedly.

The ride to the airport is nothing special. You and Mariana sit in the front while Luke is banished to the back. You stretch an arm back to hold his hand, and he leans his head on your seat to be closer to you.

"Have fun in Vancouver Babe," Mariana says giving you a tight parting hug, and kiss on the cheek.

"Better take care of my girl Hughes, or I'm coming for that other wrist" She threatens, giving Luke a hug. Luke laughs, patting Mariana's back.

"You know it, Mari," he grins, winking at you.

"Text me when you land, ok?" She says, squeezing your shoulder.

"I will. Thanks for the ride, Mar." You hive her one last squeeze goodbye and take Luke's hand as you head through the airport.

Everything goes smoothly, thank God, and soon you and Luke are boarded the plane. It's a fight over who takes the window seat. You think Luke should have it cause he has longer legs, and Luke thinks you should have it because you deserve the best seat.

After convincing Luke that as long as you're sitting beside him, you do have the best seat, he reluctantly takes the window seat. And makes sure to tell you that if you want to switch at any time, just tell him.

You nod, knowing that you absolutely won't be doing that, but what Luke doesn't know won't hurt him. You're set to arrive just before Quinn's game tonight, which means that the two of you won't get to see him until later. After going through your mental checklist, making sure everything is organized, you stick your headphones in and rest your head on Luke's shoulder and promptly pass out.

Luke is shaking you awake gently when it's time to get off the plane. "Wake up, Baby, it's time to get going," he says softly.

You sigh, rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, "Alright lets go,"

You grab all of yours and Lukes belongings from the overhead compartment, much to his dismay. "Baby, let me help,"

"Luke Warren, I swear if you touch any of this luggage with that wrist, I'll chop it off," you say sternly. You hand him his backpack, and he slings it over his shoulder with a pout.

You grab his injured hand gently, lacing your fingers together as best as you can with his brace on, and head off the plane. As you step into the Uber, both your phones buzz with a text from Quinn.

Q: I left a key for you guys with the front desk, Luke just has to show some ID.

Q: You guys are coming to the game right?

Luke: Yep, excited to see you Q

You: Were just heading to your place now, to get settled and then we're on our way. See you soon!

Q: Excited to see you guys too.

You arrive at his apartment, and Luke shows his ID to the front desk, and they hand over the key. Quinn's apartment is nice, but it's so clean. It looks like a place out of a modern decor magazine, except for the photos of his family scattered here and there.

There's a two jerseys folded neatly on the bed with a sticky note that says 'Don't be a little bitch' on top. "Nope" Luke says as he immediately lays eyes on it, "I'm not wearing that, nither are you."

You roll your eyes at him, but don't argue. It makes sense that he wouldn't wear it. Players have a thing about not wearing another franchises merchandise. He unzips his suitcase and pulls out two black hoodies with white stitching that says Hughes 43 on the back. Except if you look carefully, the devils logo is stitched on the sleeve.

You shake your head with a smile and take the hoodie from him. "Let me just change into something better, and we'll head out."

Luke nods, digging around for a pair of jeans for himself. The two of you make quick work of changing, and then you're on your way to the game. Quinn, smartly left the tickets under your name, lest someone spill the beans that Luke Hughes is in Vancouver to watch his brother play.

Your seats are right by the glass. When Quinn notices you, he skates over, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Bitches" he mouths with a smile, as he takes in the lack of Canuck blue in your outfits.

You grin and flash him a heart with your fingers while Luke flips him off, making sure he can see the devils logo on the sleeve. Quinn shakes his head at Luke and skates off to finish warm-ups.

Thankfully, no one really takes note of the interaction. Luke has a cap pulled low, so unless someone is really looking for Luke Hughes, then he shouldn't be recognized. The atmosphere is electric. Canadian hockey really hits differently.

The game is nerve-wracking, and for most of it, you and Luke are on the edges of your seats, grabbing at eachother hands, and slapping eachothers knees in excitement whenever something particular exciting happens. And when Quinn picks up a goal, the two of you are jumping and screaming.

The game ends with a canuck win, and as you two make your way down to the locker room to greet Quinn, you're chattering excitedly about all the good plays that were made. Especially Quinn's. He picked up a goal and three assists, making him the top point scorer of the game.

As he walks out of the locker room, he can't keep the smile off his face as he lands eyes on you and Luke. As much as he doesn't mind being on his own, seeing his family is always the best. You've been around the Hughes boys since you were growing up. From Toronto to Michigan. Your family's were really close and still are to this day.

He pulls you into a hug first, "Good to see you Y/n" he says, patting you on the back.

He goes to hug Luke, and in true brotherly fashion, he can't help but make a jab at him as does so. "I swear to God, you get taller every time I see you." Rather than standing on his tip toes to throw his arms around Lukes neck, he hooks his ankle around the back of Luke's knee and Luke's knees buckle.

Quinn catches him in a hug before he can hit the floor. You and Quinn are laughing, while Luke grumbles. He snatches Quinns hat off his head, making his hair stick up in every which way and holds it as high as he can. Quinn rolls his eyes, not taking the bait, and starts to walk.

Luke huffs and throws his hat back at him. "How did y'all get here?"

"Uber," you say, throwing an arm around Luke's waist as you walk. He drapes his arm around your shoulder, fingers brushing patters against your shoulder.

"The team is going out to celebrate. Do you guys wanna join, or do you want a ride home first?"

"Well, come with," Luke smiles, "Good game, dude, you made some nasty moves."

Pink dusts Quinn's cheeks, and he changes the conversation. "How's the wrist?"

Luke rolls his eyes, and before he can roll his wrist, you glare at him. "It's completely fucking fine."

"It's not" you say

"The trainers don't know what they are talking about." He mutters.

"They do" You add poking luke in the side.

Quinn scoffs, "Yes, im sure the people whose literal job it is to treat your injures don't know what they are talking about."

Luke pouts, "I can't believe my girl and my brother are ganging up on me like this,"

"Well, maybe if you weren't so stubborn." You and Quinn say simultaneously, looking at each other with a grin.

Luke grumbles unintelligiblly and Quinn throws his bags in this trunk. Luke takes the front seat, and this time, he's the one reaching his arm back to hold your hand. You smile, lacing your fingers together. Quinn rolls the eyes at the two of you with a smile.

The drive to the bar is filled with the light chatter of the three of you catching up about life. Unsurprisingly, Quinn has nothing interesting happening in his love life. The man eats, breathes, sleeps, and lives hockey. Luke teases him about becoming an old spinster while he glances at you lovingly. No doubt envisioning the magnificence that your lives will be together.

The bar is absolutely packed. Not surprisingly. It's a Friday night and the Canucks won. Some of the team is already there, in a roped off Vip area. They wave Quin over urgently. He grabs your hand and you grab Luke's so as not to get separated in the crowd of drunk people.

Quinn greets his teammates with hugs and back slaps and inside jokes. Some of them grin at you and Luke, wiggling their eyebrows at you and dragging Luke into hugs.

"So why are Mr. And Mrs. Huggy Jr. Here?" Brock asks, swirling the liquid in his glass.

Luke smiles at that, tracing his finger over the back of your left ring finger. "Luke is out injured, and I'm on a break from school," you shrug, playing with Luke's hand in yours.

"I'm going to get a refill," Luke hums, kissing the tip of your ear as he detangles himself from you, "want anything?"

"I'm good for now, baby," you say, kissing him on the cheek. When you turn back to the guys, they are all leaning close to you, batting their eyelashes like a group of High-school girls waiting to hear the latest drama about your crush.

Petey is the first to speak, "So when is he proposing?"

Millsy slaps him in the back of the head, "How is she supposed to know when he's proposing dumbass?"

"That man is so fucking whipped for you," Brock smirks, and you can't help the blush that colours your cheeks.

"You guys will have some cute babiess," Garland grins, just the slightest bit tipsy.

"Alright, alright, leave her alone. That's my sister-in-law you're bullying" Quinn says, coming to your rescue. He throws an arm around your shoulders, squeezing gently.

"You ok?" He asks quietly, the guys already forgetting the previous topic of conversation.

"Yeah, thanks Quinn," you smile, squeezing his hand back.

"Well, I'm absolutely beat, so I'm gonna go home. Do y'all wanna stay, or are you ready to head home?"

"We'll stay I think, me and Lukey are having fun, and I have yet to drag him to the dance floor. Are you ok to drive home?"

"Yeah, I haven't been drinking," Quinn says, smiling softly at your concern for him. "Sorry to leave y'all hanging."

"Don't worry about it, Quinn, we'll see you tomorrow. You played a good game, go get lots of rest," you smile, wrapping him in a quick hug.

He hugs you back and turns to address the guys. "I'm heading out if anyone wants a ride," Before the sentence fully leaves his mouth, Petey is practically throwing himself at Quinn. He stumbles into the two of you, and you both reach out to make sure he doesn't eat the floor. "I drank too much," he mumbles.

You laugh, patting his back, as Quinn stabilizes him. "I'm making you do bag skates next practice," Quinn says with entirely too much joy, as he practically half carries Petey out of the bar.

With Quinn gone, you dip out of the Vip section to find Luke, you spot him sitting at the bar, cheeks flushed, empty shot glasses littered suspiciously close to him. He's holding another glass that looks like soda, and there's a girl leaning much to close to him. He's leaning back slowly, looking very unimpressed.

Until he spots you. His megawatt lady killer smile appears as he all but pushes the other girl out of the way, and practically sprints to you, as well as someone can sprint in a crowded bar. Your hands rest on his arms, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Luke, are you ok?" You ask concerned, eyes flitting across his face, "have you been drinking?"

"Y/n!" He is way too giddy to be sober, "I know we said, we weren't drinking, but then I was sad about my wrist and someone said that the alcohol would make me feel better, so drank a little teeny tiny shot, and then another one cause somone got me another one, and then this group of girls asked me if I wanted to do shots with them, and I was gonna say no, but then they already ordered the shots and then-"

You cut off his drunk rambling, your voice laced with concern. "Luke baby, do you remember how many shots you took?" You ask, the calmness of your voice not giving way to the absolutely disastrous thoughts swimming in your head.

"Four, I think!" He grins, trying to count the glasses that were littered on the bar top in front of where he was sitting. There were five. Your eyes widen almost comically. He was barely gone for half an hour. He took five shots of straight alcohol in less than half an hour. Fuck.

Now it wasn't as if Luke hadn't drank before, undoubtedly he had. But definitely not that amount of alcohol in that span of time. Plus, it wasnt really recommended for professional athletes to drink anyways, so the amount of alcohol he'd consumed since the beginning of the season probably didn't even equate the amount that he'd drank tonight alone. Double Fuck.

And on top of all of that, Quinn had already left. "My wrist feels so much better!" Luke says happily, "I can take off my brace!" As he reaches for straps on his brace, you grab his hand.

"Absolutely not Luke." You lace your fingers with his to keep him from taking off his brace while you try to figure out what to do. Before you know what's happening, there's another full shot glass in front of you, and Luke is knocking it back. Triple Fuck.

"It burns," he pouts, shaking his head like he just ate something sour.

"Luke, how did you even get alcohol? we're underage!" The disbelief is evident in your voice.

The bartender hears your statement and decides that he'd better clear up that misconception before he gets into some kond of trouble. "No ma'am," he says, leaning over the counter. "I checked his ID, says he's twenty, that's legal"

Suddenly, you are very pissed that the bartender is telling you how old your own boyfriend is. Just as you're about to snap at him for clearly not being able to to his job correctly, if he thinks twenty is legal, you remember that you're no longer in the States.

You're in Canada. Fucking Canada. Racking your brain, you try to recall the legal age in British Columbia. You feel so stupid. It's nineteen. Ninteen year olds are legally allowed to drink in B.C. Luke is twenty. Fuck fuck fucking fuckitty fuck.

Before you sprial into a full-on panic, you take a deep breath. Luke is drunk out of his mind, and he needs to get home now, and you panicking will not help the situation. You slap your card down on the bar top and tell the bartender to close Luke's tab.

You don't trust Luke to be left to his own devices, so you sling his arm around your shoulder and half drag him to where you left your phone and purse with Brock. You gently guide Luke to sit on one of the chairs. He does so shakily and wraps one arm around your chest, pulling you flush against his body.

His knees are squeezing your hips, his fingers are tracing over your collarbones, and his face is tucked against your neck.

"Woah! is Huggy Jr. drunk?" Brock asks, grinning madly as he hands you your phone and purse.

"In the span of time that he disappeared, he took six fucking shots" you grumble, as you order an Uber to get home.

Brock almsot chokes on his drink. He stares wide eyes, "oh so he's fucking blackout," he takes his phone and snaps a photo of you and Luke. The glare that you send him is so murderous that if looks could kill he'd be six feet under.

"Sorry," he shrugs with a shit eating grin that says he's not sorry at all, "I need some proof of this for when he wakes up hating his life tomorrow."

"Alright, well, at least send it to me." You grumble, Brock laughs, and your phone buzzes with a notification from him immediately after. "And hey, please don't tell Quinn anything right now. He's probably home and in bed by now, and I don't wanna stress him out unnecessarily."

Brock nods, "Don't worry, kid, my lips are sealed." He sighs like an older brother, "if I was sober, i'd be driving you home."

"Oh Brock, don't worry about it. You guys had great games, and you deserve to celebrate. We'll be fine, I promise," you smile. Your heart melts a little, you've only met the canucks a few times but from the instant that you did they treated you like family.

"Alright, alright, just let me know when you're home safe, I'll feel much better."

"You got it, Brocky," you smile, standing on your tip toes to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek. Brock grins like a school boy who just got a kiss from his crush. Thankfully, drunk Luke doesn't decide to make an appearance. Otherwise, he might have absolutely decked Brock in the face.

Not that he would've succeeded, based on how drunk he is. You're almost sure he's fallen asleep. Until his lips start moving against your neck. Quadruple fuck. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud as he nips at your throat with so much care you'd think he was fully sober.

His fingers start to make patterns along your collarbones, dipping lower toward the curve of your breasts. You don't want him to stop.

"Luke," you whisper desperately, laying your head atop his gently.

His hum of response reverberates against your skin, and pleasure melts down your spine, stomach fluttering.

"Luke," you try again, voice strained as his teeth screen against the sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder, "not here baby, we're in public."

" 's go home" he murmers into your skin, "wanna fuck my pretty girl."

Your cheeks go red faster than you thought possible. What a time to find out Luke is a horny drunk.

"Luke," his name is a prayer on your lips. The fingers of his injured hand burn as they press into your waist.

" 'm starvin for you baby," he mumbles, the tips of his fingers brushing under the waistband of your jeans.

Heat coils in your stomach, and you bite your lip to keep a whimper from spilling from your lips. As if some Devine power is on your side, you get a notification that your Uber has arrived.

"Our ride is here." Your voice is practically a squeak.

"Want you to ride me." Luke says, and you can feel his lips turn up into a smirk against your skin. You have to cover your mouth with your hand. Luke chuckles darkly. "Pretty girl has to cover her mouth so everyone doesn't know what a dirty girl she is." he hums nosing at your neck. If you're here any longer, you might actually combust. You make sure you have everything because you can quite literally never return to this bar every again.

You help pull Luke out of his chair and drape one of his arms over your shoulder. You wrap your arm around his waist to keep him steady. "Gonna eat you up when we're alone," he mutters, his grin all teeth. He's so fucking beautiful it makes your troat go dry.

You're blushing like a school girl as you help him out of the bar. He's leaning most of his weight on you while he whispers dirty things in your ear. You're surprised that you even manage to get him out of the bar on your own, mainly because his comments are making you weak in the knees. And partially because he's a 6'2, 185-pound man.

You successfully get him into the backseat and give the driver Quinns address. Thank God he lives close. A ten minute drive at most. But unfortunately for you, it feels like hours. Because Luke had been very perceptive as to how his advances were making you react and continues them with no mercy.

"So pretty f' me" he mumbles, hand trailing up your thigh, lips fluttering over your neck, "gonna let me fuck you pretty girl?"

"Not here, Luke," You whisper, grabbing his hand. You kiss the back of his knuckles and looks at you with such desire in his eyes it takes every ounce of self control not strip and let him fuck you in the back seat of this random car. Your eyes flick to the driver and you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, and say a prayer for forgiveness as your lips trail up his hand.

You close your lips over two of his fingers, and he groans, his head falling against your shoulder. "Gotta be quiet, baby," you murmer, squeezing his knee with one hand before closing your lips back over his fingers.

"m' quiet, m' quiet," he murmers against your neck. Then he's grinding his hips against yours, and there's a whimper caught in your throat. The car comes to a stop in front of Quinns building, and you are hopping out of the car like it's on fire and dragging Luke out behind you.

He stumbles into your back, an arm wrapping around your waist, his lips reattach to your neck, and you can't help the moan that slips out. As soon as the elevator door shuts, Luke pins you to the wall with a knee between your legs, and you drag him down for a desperate kiss.

He tastes like alcohol and cinnamon and home. And you never want to let him go. Then he's hissing with fire, a yearning, pleading fire as he grinds his hips against yours. All you want to do is let him have his way, but he's so so drunk. And no matter how many years the two of you have been dating, and how many times you've slept together, you made your decision way back at the bar that you wouldn't go further than kissing and grinding.

The elevator opens on Quinns floor, and the two of you stumble out. You pat your pockets for the keys to his apartment, and fuck- they aren't there. They must have gotten left in his car on the way to the bar.

You knock on the door nervously. One hand wrapped around Luke's waist, and the other braced against his chest. His uninjured hand is tracing up and down your side and in a way that makes it hard not to squirm as he places tender kisses along your jaw.

Quinn opens the door, looking oh so tired, a toothbrush hanging half out of his mouth. Clearly, he didn't expect you back so soon. His eyes go wide at the sight in front of him, and he resists the urge to gag, lest his toothbrush fall out of his mouth.

"Whad da fack!" He exclaims, spitting into the kitchen sink and closing the apartment door behind you. "Is he drunk?"

"Yes, just let me get him into bed, and I'll explain," you say urgently.

"Only going to bed if you're coming with me," he murmers, squeezing your hip, "need m' pretty girl."

"Do you have advil?" You ask Quinn, ignoring Luke's statement, Quinn wisely chooses not to comment as he grabs advil and a glass of water.

You deposit luke on the bed, huffing from his weight. He pulls you down with a smirk. "Wait, baby, let me get your clothes," you say quickly.

Luke wiggles his eyebrows and lets you undress him. You strip him of his jeans and t-shirt leaving him in his boxers. "Be good and drink this for me," you say, sliding the advil into his mouth.

"I'm good for you, baby," he mutters after he swallows.

"So good for me," you assured as he slipped under the blanket. As soon as his head hits the pillow, his eyes are fluttering. " 'm tir'd."

You stroke his hair back from his forehead softly. "I know, baby, I know,"

"Still want you," he pouted.

"I know, baby, and you'll have me tomorrow. It's sleep time now, ok?"

"Mm'kay," he mumbles, barely audible. You stroke his hair and mutter sweet nothings to him as he falls asleep. You change into a pair of sweats and one of Luke's devils' hoodies before shutting the bedroom door with a quiet click.

Quinn is sitting on the couch, with two mugs of steaming tea. You flop onto the couch, leaning your back against the armrest and tucking your feet under his legs. He hands you a mug of tea, and you take it gratefully, holding it close to your face and letting the steam warm you.

"So what the fuck happened?" Quinn questions.

"After you left, Luke still wasn't back and I went to find him, I don't know what really happened on his end, but he said he was sad about his wrist, and someone convinced him alchool would make it better." You sigh, taking a sip of your tea.

"Anyways, by the time I got him, he had had six shots in the span of a half hour."

Quinns eyes practically bulge out of his head. He looks like he's running calculations in his head, and his jaw drops. "I know," you grimace, "I'm sorry, I should've watched him better, I knew he wasn't happy about his wrist, and I let him -"

"How did he even get drinks?" Quinn asks, "He's not 21."

"Hush, Y/n, it's not your fault. He's a big boy he knows what he's doing." Quinn says softly, drawing you into his arms.

"Quinn, you don't feel bad either, ok?" You say softly knowing Quinn is beating himself up on the inside. He sighs, purses his lips and doesn't say anything for a long minute.

"It's Canada," you mutter like that explains everything. And to Quinn, it does explain it all.

"Fucking Canada" he mutters shaking his head.

---

Hi guys!! I was very excited while writing this, so I hope y'all like it. Comment comment comment! I love comments, I wanna hear all your thoughts! They always make my day a bit brighter.

On that note, I'm going on a bit of a writing break for a week-ish cause schools getting a bit busy with midterms and final papers and whatnot. I'll still be active, tho (unless i feel like it's distracting, then I might fall off the face of the earth for a bit).

Anyways, with that, I hope y'all have a lovely, lovely evening. Love Soph ♡

#luke hughes #lh43 #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hughes brothers #quinn hughes #qh43 #elias pettersson #brock boeser #vancover canucks #nj devils #fuck fuck fucking fuckity fuck #megawatt ladykiller will be making a reappearance

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wolverigrl · 10 days

Text

Farewells and Distractions

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Prepare yourselves for some jealousyyyy! And well, I already have ideas for the next part! I'm so obsessed right now, send help.. :')

Warnings: fluff, angst, nothing more!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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It was early, far too early for me to be awake, but there I was, driving Hugh to the airport. He sat beside me, quiet, his hand resting on my thigh, occasionally squeezing as if to remind himself that I was still there. I glanced over at him, taking in his profile - the way his jawline looked in the dim morning light, the faint tiredness under his eyes. He was heading to Sydney to visit his family for a few weeks, and I’d be joining him the next week. We had planned it so we could have some time apart and then reconnect, just the two of us, after he spent time with his parents and siblings. But as we drove, the reality of that week apart felt heavier than I expected.

“You have everything, right?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended. I already knew the answer. Hugh was meticulous. There was no way he’d forgotten anything.

“Yeah, I’m all set." he replied, his voice equally soft. He glanced out the window for a moment before turning back to me. “I hate leaving you, though.”

I smiled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “It’s just a week. I’ll be there before you know it, and we’ll have all that time together. Just us.”

“I know,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss my temple. “But it still feels too long.”

We pulled into the airport, and the moment I put the car in park, my stomach flipped. I hated goodbyes, even temporary ones. Hugh reached for his bag in the back seat, and then he turned to me, eyes locking with mine in a way that made everything else seem to fade into the background.

“I’m gonna miss you." I whispered, my throat tight with emotion. I didn’t want to cry - God, it was only a week - but I couldn’t help it.

“I’m gonns miss you too, love." he said, and then he pulled me into a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or hurried like I expected. It was slow, almost reluctant, like neither of us wanted it to end. His lips moved against mine with the kind of tenderness that made me want to cling to him and never let go.

When we finally broke apart, he pressed his forehead against mine, and I felt his breath fan over my face. “I love you." he whispered, his voice barely audible.

My heart skipped a beat. I’d known for a while that I was falling in love with him, but those words… I wasn’t ready to say them yet, not because I didn’t feel them, but because it felt like too much, too fast. I smiled instead, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded, pulling back and grabbing his bag. With one last glance, he headed inside, disappearing into the terminal. I sat there for a moment, staring at the space where he had been, feeling an ache in my chest that I wasn’t sure how to shake off.

The week without Hugh stretched out longer than I anticipated. I had plans with Ryan and Blake - they were supposed to keep me busy while Hugh was gone - but those plans fell through when Blake called me that afternoon.

“Hey, y/n!” Blake’s voice crackled through the phone. “I’m so sorry, but Ryan and I have to cancel for this week. We’re flying out to Canada - his mom needs help."

“Oh no." I said, leaning back against the couch. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, nothing serious. She just needs an extra pair of hands for a bit. We’ll be gone for a while.”

I tried not to let the disappointment creep into my voice. “No worries. Family comes first. We’ll hang out when you get back.”

After hanging up, I tossed my phone on the couch beside me and sighed. So much for that distraction. I glanced at the screen, wondering if Hugh had texted, but the silence between us was understandable - he was busy with family, and with the massive time difference, we hadn’t spoken much.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it, expecting a message from Hugh, but instead saw Chris’ name.

CHRIS: Hellooo! What are you up to? I'm in Boston for the week. Scott, Carly and Shana are coming over. Wanna join?

I blinked, a little surprised by the spontaneous invitation, but the thought of spending time with Chris and his siblings sounded like the perfect way to take my mind off Hugh being gone. After a moment of hesitation, I decided to go.

Y/N: Might just take you up on that. Hugh's in Sydney and my plans here fell through.

CHRIS: Perfect! Let me know when you’re coming!

Hugh was busy, and it wasn’t like I was going to spend the week moping around. Plus, I would also meet my other friends, who I haven't seen for a while!

The days in Boston were great. Chris and his siblings were as always easy company, and I found myself laughing more than I had in days. We spent our time wandering through the city, grabbing food at hole-in-the-wall places, and drinking in tiny bars that didn’t care if we lingered for hours. I wasn’t constantly texting Hugh, mostly because the time difference made it hard to sync up, but we exchanged messages when we could even if it was mostly just short messages or a quick selfie.

Y/N: With friends in Boston. One day left! Miss you❤️

HUGH: Hope you have a great time. Miss you too. Can’t wait for you to get here❤️

One night, Chris’s brother snapped a candid photo of us all laughing at some stupid joke Chris had made and posted it on Instagram. I didn’t think much of it at the time - just a fun moment with friends.

After I reposted Scott's photo, I somehow got a weird feeling, because Hugh neither liked nor commented on it. He usually does that with all my posts.

But then my phone buzzed. It was a call from him. I frowned, glancing at the time. It was the middle of the night in Sydney.

“Hey!" I answered, stepping out onto the balcony to get some quiet. “Isn't it late in Sydney? What’s up? Are you okay?”

There was a pause on the other end, and I could hear the hesitation in his voice. “Yeah and yeah I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”

I smiled, leaning against the railing. “What’s keeping you up? Family stuff?”

“Yeah, a little. I miss you." he said, his voice soft, but I could sense something else there too. Something unspoken.

“I miss you too. I’ll be there soon. My flight's tomorrow at noon.” I reassured him, but the nagging feeling that something was wrong wouldn’t go away.

There was another pause before Hugh spoke again. “Yeah okay. Just text me when you're at the airport. What have you been up to?”

“Just hanging out with some friends." I said, hoping to keep things light. “Boston’s been nice. It’s a good distraction.”

“I’m glad." he replied, though his tone didn’t sound completely convinced. I wanted to press, to ask him what was really going on, but something held me back. Maybe it was the distance, or maybe I just didn’t want to have a serious conversation at 3 AM Sydney time.

We talked for a little while longer, mostly about what he’d been doing with his family - going to the beach, having long dinners with his parents. It sounded peaceful, and I couldn’t wait to be there with him. By the time we hung up, I thought things were okay between us.

When I finally arrived in Sydney, I was ready to be wrapped up in my boyfriends arms, to forget about the distance and just be with him. But something was off the moment I saw him at the airport. He hugged me, kissed me, but there was a hesitation in his touch, a distance in his eyes that I hadn’t expected.

“Everything okay?” I asked as we got into the car.

“Yeah, just tired.” he said, brushing it off, but I could tell something was wrong and I didn’t push. Maybe he was still caught up in family obligations.

Over the next couple of days, that distance grew. He wasn’t as affectionate as usual, and when I tried to kiss him or initiate anything more intimate, he pulled back, offering a soft smile but nothing else. It was confusing, and frankly, it hurt.

It all came to a head one evening when we were sitting in his living room, and I could feel the tension crackling in the air between us.

“Hugh." I said cautiously as I looked at his profile. Iis something wrong? You’ve been distant since I got here."

He looked at me, his jaw tightening as if he was wrestling with something he didn’t want to say. “Why didn’t you tell me you were spending all that time with Chris?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What? I told you I was with friends in Boston.”

“You didn’t tell me Chris was one of them." he said, standing up, pacing now. His hands were in his pockets, but I could see the frustration in the way his shoulders tensed. “I saw your Instagram photo, y/n. You and Chris.. you looked really comfortable.”

I stood up too, feeling my heart race with a mix of confusion and frustration. “I didn’t think it mattered. It wasn’t just me and Chris - his siblings were there too. We’re friends, Hugh. That’s all.”

“I know you’re friends, but that’s not the point!" Hugh interrupted, his voice rising slightly. He turned to face me fully, his eyes searching mine as if trying to find something he couldn’t quite name. "You didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you just tell me it was him?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Because it wasn’t important, Hugh! We were in a group, it wasn’t just the two of us, and I didn’t think it would bother you. Chris and I are over. We’ve been over for years."

Hugh’s face tightened, and he took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. "But you two were something once. And now you’re still close, still spending time together, laughing together. I trust you, y/n, but… it’s hard for me to ignore the fact that you didn’t think it was worth mentioning."

I stared at him, feeling my own frustration bubbling to the surface. "Are you seriously mad because I didn’t explicitly say Chris was there? You know we’re friends. I didn’t hide it. I didn’t lie to you."

"It’s not just about Chris," Hugh snapped, finally letting the words spill out. "It’s about everything. You didn't even say anything back to me at the airport! I couldn’t help but felt like you didn’t really want this and went to see him. Maybe I’m too old for this, for you. And when I see you with someone like Chris, who’s younger, who shares your world more than I do… I just start to wonder."

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. I hadn’t realized he’d been carrying all this around with him, this insecurity about us, about our relationship. "Hugh, how could you even think that? We talked about the age difference and you were the one who literally said, that it's fine! It doesn’t even matter to me, and it’s never been about that. I didn’t realize you felt this way… you should have told me."

"I didn’t want to burden you with it. Especially after you were concerned about our relationship and the media." he muttered, turning away, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It’s my issue, not yours."

"No, it is our issue if it’s affecting us like this." I said, stepping closer to him. "You should have told me you were feeling like this, Hugh. I don’t want you to feel insecure about us, or about me spending time with anyone. I love being with you and I want to be with you."

He ran a hand through his hair, still not meeting my eyes. "It’s hard. I see how easy it is for you and Chris to be around each other after you have been together and I thought… maybe I’m holding you back and the thought intensified after you didn't say 'I love you' back."

I felt my chest tighten, a knot of frustration and sadness coiling inside me. "Hugh, that’s not true. You’re not holding me back. I’m with you because I choose to be. Chris is a friend, but you’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I’m in love with. Also you caught me off guard with that and it was somehow too much for me to tell you before we said goodbye."

At that, Hugh’s eyes finally lifted to meet mine. For a moment, his expression softened, but the weight of everything still hung between us. "I don’t want to feel this way, y/n. I don’t want to doubt us."

"Then don’t." I said, stepping closer, placing my hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palm. "You don’t have to doubt anything. I’m here with you because I want to be, not because I feel like I have to. I love you, Hugh. I love you in ways I didn’t think I could. And I need you to believe that."

He swallowed hard, and for a moment, I thought he might cry, or that I might cry, but instead, he pulled me into his arms. He held me tight, his chin resting on top of my head as he whispered, "I’m sorry. I’m sorry for letting this get to me."

I hugged him back, feeling the tension slowly ease out of him as we stood there, wrapped up in each other. "I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you about Chris." I murmured against his chest. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t trust me."

Hugh kissed the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. "I do trust you. I just… I get scared sometimes too. It's my first relationship after a long marriage. It's new to me too."

"I know." I whispered. "We’ll figure it out together."

After a few minutes, I pulled away gently, looking up at him. "Do you want to talk more about it, or…?"

He shook his head, smiling softly. "No. I think we’ve talked enough for tonight." Then, his expression shifted, something playful creeping into his eyes. "How about we make some dinner? I know we’ve got some things we could whip up."

I smiled, grateful for the change in tone. "That sounds good. Let’s go cook."

Standing in Hugh's kitchen, I stirred the vegetables as the aroma of garlic and fresh herbs filled the air. Hugh was chopping some tomatoes next to me, the sound of his knife tapping against the cutting board rhythmic and soothing. We'd been talking for a while about upcoming projects - the usual couple interviews and some new film roles hat were coming our way.

He glanced at me with that familiar twinkle in his eyes. "You know, they've asked for some couple interview next month. Think we can manage to look civilized for one hour?" His lips curled into a teasing smile.

I raised an eyebrow, stirring the sauce as I shot him a look. “Do we really have to talk about that now? I thought this was our quiet time.”

Hugh chuckled and set his glass down, pushing away from the counter to move closer to me. “It is, but you know they’re going to ask us sooner or later. They’re all dying for a chance to talk to us - Hollywood’s favorite couple.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, sure. You might be used to the spotlight, but I’m still getting used to it. Besides, I think they’re more interested in you than me.”

He slid up behind me, his arms snaking around my waist as he rested his chin on my head. “Oh, they’re definitely interested in you, trust me. And I think we make a pretty good team. You’re a natural on camera.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “That’s because you’re always cracking jokes and making me laugh. You're the one who always makes some smartass comment that gets us off track, but I don’t think I could get through an interview without you by my side.”

Hugh kissed my temple softly, his lips brushing against my skin. “Exactly. That’s why we should say yes to a couple of these. It’ll be fun. We can give them a little peek into our life.”

I sighed, stirring the sauce as I leaned back into him. “Alright, alright. I’ll consider it. But only if you promise to keep it light. No deep-dive, personal stuff.”

He raised an eyebrow, his breath warm against my ear. “No promises. They always find a way to ask the hard questions.”

I turned to face him, my hands sliding up to rest on his chest as I narrowed my eyes. “Then you’re answering those.”

He laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Deal. I’ll take the tough ones.”

As I turned back to the stove, Hugh kept his arms around me, his body pressed close to mine as he spoke. “You know, I’ve been getting some new film offers too. There’s one that might shoot in New Zealand next year.”

I felt a twinge of excitement at the mention of New Zealand. “Really? That sounds amazing. Have you decided if you’re going to do it?”

He shrugged, his hands absentmindedly playing with the hem of my shirt as he spoke. “I’m still thinking about it. I want to make sure it won’t take up too much time. I’d rather spend more of it with you.” His voice dropped, soft and intimate, and I couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly he shifted from teasing to sincere.

I turned to face him again, this time resting my hands on his arms. “You’re really not going to stop making me blush, are you?”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss me again, this time slower, lingering. “Not a chance.”

We stood there, the conversation fading as our lips met again and again, the kitchen suddenly feeling much smaller as the heat between us built. It wasn’t long before the playful kisses turned into something deeper, more urgent, and I found myself wrapped in his arms, pressed up against the counter, his hands sliding up my back as he kissed me like he couldn’t get enough.

Just as I was getting completely lost in the moment, Hugh pulled back, his breathing heavy as he gazed down at me. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you." he said, his voice a little more serious now.

I blinked, trying to focus through the haze of desire. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, his thumb brushing over my cheek as he spoke. “The kids… they’ve been asking about you. They want to meet you.”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. His kids. I knew this moment would come eventually, but the thought of meeting them, of stepping into that part of his life, made my stomach twist with nerves.

“Oh.." I said softly, my voice betraying my uncertainty. “I didn’t know they’d been asking about me.”

He nodded, his expression gentle but serious. “Yeah. I called them yesterday and they’ve been curious for a while now, but I didn’t want to bring it up until I felt like we were both ready.”

I swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. “And… you think we’re ready?”

He held my gaze, his hand moving to cup the back of my neck. “I do. But it’s up to you. If you’re not ready, we can wait. There’s no rush.”

I took a deep breath, my mind racing. Meeting his kids was a big step, and the last thing I wanted to do was mess it up. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel like it was the natural next step. Hugh was such an important part of my life now, and if his kids wanted to get to know me, maybe it was time.

“I think I’m ready." I said, my voice steadying as I spoke. “I’d love to meet them.”

The relief on Hugh’s face was instant, and he pulled me into a tight hug, his lips pressing against my hair. “You have no idea how happy that makes me." he murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

I smiled against his chest, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I just hope they like me.”

Hugh pulled back, his hands framing my face as he looked down at me with absolute certainty. “They’re going to love you. Just like I do.”

I bit my lip, my heart swelling at his words. “I love you too." I whispered, feeling the weight of those words settle between us.

Hugh smiled, his eyes soft as he leaned down to kiss me again, this time slower, more deliberate. “I know.”

We stood there for a few moments, wrapped in each other, the conversation lingering in the air. But as the sauce on the stove began to bubble, Hugh pulled back with a playful grin. “Alright, we better finish this before we burn the house down.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I turned back to the stove. “You’re the distraction, not me.”

Hugh stepped up behind me again, his arms wrapping around my waist as he rested his chin on my shoulder. “You know..” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that always drove me crazy. “You could be right. But I think you like it and that we may need small breaks in between cooking."

I tried to focus on stirring the sauce, but it was impossible with him pressed up against me like that, his hands sliding up under my shirt, his touch warm against my skin. “Hugh.." I breathed, already feeling my resolve weakening.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. “You were saying?”

I let out a soft moan, leaning back into him as his hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. “You’re impossible." I managed to say, though my voice came out shaky.

“Impossible?” he echoed, his mouth moving down my neck, sending shivers through my entire body. “I think you like me just the way I am.”

I laughed breathlessly, trying to keep the sauce from burning as he continued to kiss my neck, his hands exploring every inch of me. “The sauce is going to- ” I started, but before I could finish, the sound of bubbling and sizzling filled the air, and I realized that it was already too late.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, quickly turning off the stove as Hugh stepped back with a satisfied grin on his face.

He laughed, leaning against the counter as I tried to salvage what I could of dinner. “I told you we needed a break.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “This is your fault.”

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe. But I think you enjoyed it.”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the stove. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Damn right, I am,” he said with a wink, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Even when everything else was up in the air - work, interviews, meeting his kids - knew that as long as we had moments like this, we’d be just fine.

---------------------------------------------------

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74

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lovrsm · 11 months

Text

ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ

sum: in which your brother invites you to a party, and oh god, you're so glad you accepted.

word count: 2.4k

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

warnings: drinking, curse words & insinuation of cheating.

Spotify - Apple Music

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ - ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴀᴜ

"you should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk"

Monaco was such a lovely place, when my brother had told me about it I thought he was exaggerating. I mean, it wouldn't be that weird if he had, he's always excited about everything, he's the kind of guy who makes you see as if the world is made of bright rainbow colors, and I believe him.

I arrived from the airport about 2 hours ago, I was on my way to the hotel where Lando was staying, he told me he got another room for me. How could I say no?

He called me yesterday at about 3pm

"No, I'm telling you, IT WILL BE THE PARTY OF THE YEAR!" he screamed over the phone, making me laugh.

"Lando, I just came from signing with my sponsors, they expect me to write more songs in a 4 months period, you know how complicated that's going to be?" I exhaled, taking off my heels, tossing them across the room as I lay down on the couch. I was exhausted.

"C'mon, you'll have plenty of things to write songs about, look, I can already hear it!" he started to hum a catchy tone, making the corners of my mouth go up. "Lando... Jake won't be able to be there, god, I don't even know if he'll want me to be there, you know?"

I could already see him in the doorway telling me where am I.

Sure, he was on canada filming, but what if he finds out?

"I'm not even letting you say no, I'm already booking tickets, get all you need, you can even shop here if you want, I just want my sister with me tomorrow night with me"

"You better go get me at the airport Lando Norris."

"I wont let you down peanut" He chuckled and hung up on me.

Well he kinda let me down, he couldn't come get me due to some last minute meeting he had. I don't really mind, I know having a busy life is exhausting.

I thanked the taxi driver giving his a generous tip, my bodyguard helped me get out my suitcases, I had a hoodie and black sunglasses, he had a casual outfit so we wouldn't stand out.

For being a top artist in the whole world, I did not like having that much security. But it was an obligation, not an option, I had to stick to what my manager and team asks me to do.

After a busy day of shopping and walking around the streets, I could barely feel my feet. I had gotten a beautiful short red dress. Perfect fit for the occasion. It was just 7p.m. and Lando had texted me he was on his way to my dorm.

The door opened to reveal my very festive brother in the other side "You're here!" "I'm here!" I screamed back jumping into his arms.

We catched up, he was telling me about how he checked the track, for the next season, since we were in December. Although I never really understood racing, when we were kids our parents would take us out to the karts, and I'd always crash while he was beating all of us who tried to play.

He focused on sports and I focused on music, since I was 12 years old I learned to play the guitar. My mom used to tell me that I was a genius at writing songs, I guess many people think the same.

Time passed by too fast, with him I felt like an hour were just 5 minutes.

After hating each other all our childhood, we became closer than ever after my career and his took off. I think it was because we were twins, we hated it when people said we acted the same, because physically we are not alike at all. I am so much prettier, obviously.

it was already 8 o'clock "I'm leaving, I should get ready, do you wanna come with me?"

"I'd stopped talking to you if you let me get there alone, I know none of these guys Lando."

"I'm sure you'll know somebody miss famous." He bumped my shoulder and left my room, entering to his which was next door.

I took my time getting ready. God, I love being a woman. I took a bath, fixed my hair, put on my make-up and finally there was the dress, hanging on the bathroom door. I think it is one of the most beautiful dresses I have ever seen in my life.

How did I manage to put on the mini dress correctly by myself? I don't even know, but I couldn't stop looking at myself in the mirror. God if only someone could look at me.

Oh wait! There is someone, I grabbed my phone to click his name, my phone started to ring. I waited patiently, but he did not answer. So I called him once more, this time he did answer.

I heard loud music and singing in the back. "What do you need?" he asked, I could hear the irritation in his voice. "I wanted to hear from you, we haven't talked-"

"We talked last Monday, wasn't that enough? I'm busy." He interrupted me.

"Where are you?" I asked intrigued this time.

"Uhm... I'm in the bar with some friends"

"Oh and that's just more important than your girlfriend?" I raised my voice at him, I was now sitting the edge on the bed.

"Look, I don't want to fight, just call me later." He said, basically hanging the phone. "Jake..." I said before he could do so.

"What?" He sounded desperate. "Take care." I said.

"Ok" He hung. I felt disgusted, why? not idea, I just felt dirty, as if I was forcing him to talk to me. I took some deep breathes so I could calm my nerves down.

I don't even want to go out anymore.

I tried hard not to cry, I wasn't going to ruin my makeup over some small argument, I'm sure tomorrow we'll be alright, we always end up alright.

It felt as an eternity till I heard a knock on my door, I quickly grabbed my bag, looked in the mirror once more to fix my dark wavy hair, and rushed to the door. I opened it, in the side was Lando, his back on the wall while he was looking at his phone.

He turned it off and looked at me, I smiled "Ready to go Peanut?"

"Lets go"

We finally got to the club, electronic music was blasting off, people were already drunk, and boy they didn't even tried to hide it.

We had to basically run to the VIP area, I didn't said anything to my bodyguard about this, besides, he can use a break.

Lando was immediately greeted by everyone who was in the room. "LANDO!" A man screamed to him "Ayee, we're here!" He said hugging the man, and patting him in the back. "you're so late, you were the only ones missing!"

"we're here Pierre, I'd like to present to you all my sister!" He hugged me by the side and I waved with a smile on my face. It seemed that most of them recognized me, because some of them just stood there in shock "Hey everyone, ready to get wasted?" I laughed, that made them less tense and cheered, lifting their cups.

Lando gave a me a sweet kiss in my head, "see, you'll be fine, have some fun peanut!" I let go and we both went our own way.

I started to talk to a girl, her name is Kika, I learnt she was the girlfriend of a guy named Pierre Gasly. I've heard about him but no one ever told me how fun his girlfriend was!

"Girl, you should try this margarita, the most wholesome thing you'll have in your life!"

She was not kidding with that. In a few minutes, I had asked for... about 5 of them, or maybe just 13.

I had talked to everyone in the room by 10 pm, they were all so fun, and the energy was of another planet.

"Yeah, and then Max would make that grumpy face. I swear he looks like and old man!"

"very mature Lando, so mature." I bursted out laughing. "LECLERC HAS ARRIVED!" I heard someone scream in the entrance, and in seconds half of the group was there greeting the guy.

I decided I was going to take something else than a margarita. I walked up to the bartender, who definitely did not understood me. I don't know if I was speaking too softly or if I was just way too drunk to talk, but I decided to leave, I turned around and bumped into someone.

I was about to loose my balance till his arms were wrapped around my waist, I was able to stand straight. "are you alright?" he asked.

I looked into his eyes, green eyes "what?"was all I could manage. "Are you alright?" He asked again, I now noticed a thick accent, I bursted out laughing for that.

He looked so confused, he let go and chuckled with me. For a second it was as if the whole club was quiet. I looked again at him, and I immediately looked down at the floor. He grabbed my hand, the lights went out for a second and my world spun. My legs were about to give up.

His touch was... it was, god I can't even say it.

"I'm Charles, what's your name?"

I bit my lip, what went out of my mouth was definitely not what I wanted to say. "Do you always talk like that?" I asked a bit to seriously, I chuckled so that I wasn't that rude.

"Yeah, my first language isn't english."

"Huh." I said, I felt as if he had a goddamn magnetic field and it was pulling me towards him, I couldn't stand it.

I ran off to the other side of the room, leaving him standing alone next to the bar.

All night.

All night I couldn't stop thinking about him, his hand touching my hand in the darkened room...

and I made fun of the way he talked.

I'm never drinking again.

Yet there I was, in the bar once more, asking for whiskey. Mature, so mature.

I kept bouncing back and forth between the people there, once I saw Charles walking to my way, I would ran to the other side of the room.

I have a boyfriend for gods sake! I can't be thinking these unhealthy things about him.

But, I mean, can you blame me?

Look at him.

His first two buttons were unbottened which made him look so attractive. And you should see his dimples, he's so gorgeous it actually fucking hurts!

"So you're not going to talk to me?" I heard a voice behind my ear. His chest touching my back. I didn't move, but I did answer.

"Who said I wasn't going to?" I asked playfully, with a grin on my face, knowing he couldn’t see me.

He hummed in my ear, before he turned me to look him in the eye, he grabbed my neck, but he didn't kiss me. Instead, he brought his lips back to my ear.

"Then why do you keep running, huh?" His hot breath sent a shiver down my spine. I was dumbfolded by his actions, he took a step back to look at me.

I looked into his eyes, I was absolutely taking him in. I looked at his dimples because of the grin he had in his face. His eyebrows, his slightly sweaty hair, with pieces of it falling into his face.

I couldn't help myself, I noticed how he looked into my eyes, and then to my mouth.

What if..?

I asked to myself, I closed my eyes and got closer to him, waiting for a kiss. But he grabbed me by my hips pulling me back.

"You're far too drunk, ma chou" I heard and opened my eyes, he gave me a sympathetic smile. I felt dumb for a second, but after seeing his face... I think I might be falling.

"Why don't we leave, would you like that?" I hugged him, my head in his neck. I nodded as fast as I could. He grabbed me and in a second, we were in his car.

For sure the alcohol got to my head that night.

Taglist

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #scuderia ferrari #lando #gorgeous

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mimicmimikyuwrites · 2 months

Text

I Love You's - (W/ America, Russia, England, Canada) x GN!Reader

Summary: Little fluffy scenarios where some of my favorite nations tell a gn!reader "I love you" 💕

Contents/Possible Warnings: Lots of fluff, kinda angsty tho for a lot of them, hurt with comfort, gn!reader

America (Alfred F. Jones)

He never thought he'd fall in love. It wasn't something Alfred avoided, but it also wasn't something he ever sought out. He had accomplished a lot in the relatively short period he had been around, he was still young and had opportunities to chase, and with that, he never imagined he'd have the time for romance. Still, things happened and now you were here with him, and there wasn't a happier man in the entirety of the world. With you beside him, he couldn't ask for anything better.

You were beautiful, so beautiful; both inside and out. Your hair was soft, your eyes captivated him, you understood him entirely, you loved him! He could go on forever, gushing about his awesome partner. You were the definition of perfection to him, flawed or not. He was head over heels.

"Love attack!" He nearly shouted while you were watching a movie with him in the living room one night, cupping your face in his hands as he began to pepper it with kisses. It startled you, but you loved it. One thing you adored about him was how he never tried to hide his affections. He was in love, and he'd be damned if he didn't show it.

You giggled, lightly pushing on his chest as he kissed every part of your face he could, now laughing himself. He kissed your forehead, your now reddened cheeks, your nose, and your cheeks again. When he was done he pulled back, grinning at the sight of your flustered, but happy expression.

"You missed, silly," you smiled playfully, pulling him back in before kissing him sweetly, satisfied hums escaping you both. You loved him, and you made sure to convey that with every movement of your lips together.

"I love you," He said between kisses. "My honey, my love, my baby, my sweetheart, my everything." It was true, you were his everything. He didn't want to live fast anymore, jumping at every opportunity, not when his most important one was right in front of him, and had such kissable lips, too.

Russia (Ivan Braginsky)

It was a well-known fact to those who had ever visited that Russia's house was more than just cold. It was freezing, something which you still weren't used to, even after all the years you had spent living with him. It got even colder during the night, and blankets could only do so much.

Ivan always hated the cold, the connection between it and the isolation he had endured throughout his life unable to be undone. Things were different now, though. He had you with him, someone to warm his heart, especially during those frigid nights he had dreaded so much.

"Ivan," you called out to him from the bed, wrapped up in multiple thick blankets that seemed to do nothing to keep you from shivering. "Come to bed, дорогой" You spoke with a tired smile, the last word making him melt as it left your mouth. 'Darling,' you had called him in his native tongue. He was your darling.

As he slipped into your shared bed with you he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his eyes closed in relaxation and bliss as he nuzzled his face into your hair. You made him feel warm, and that's all he ever truly wanted out of life. Someone to love, and someone to love him back.

"я тебя люблю." He mumbled against you, smiling softly. "мое солнышко." You were his sunshine, a ray of light shining through despite the clouds. He moved his head out of your hair and leaned down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. "Promise me you'll never leave," he told you, caressing your cheek gently. To anyone else, that would've sounded like a demand, but to you it was a request for comfort.

"I'm not going anywhere," You reassured him, kissing his cheek. "I love you, Ivan. With all of my heart. я тебя люблю."

England (Arthur Kirkland)

Having done so much throughout his history, Arthur savored quiet moments, even if they were little ones. The moments when he wasn't busy, and the moments when he wasn't plagued with the harsh realities of the world. His favorite moments, however, involved you.

You were kinder than anyone else he had ever met in his centuries of being alive, a true angel. You were his everything, the love of his life, so much so that he wondered how he had gone so long without you. When you were with him he didn't feel so distant from everyone else; he felt wanted.

You were curled up next to him on the couch, your arms wrapped around him as you leaned your head against his shoulder, simply enjoying his company while a television show neither of you were paying much attention to played in the background.

The one bad thing about these quiet moments was the rare opportunity for his mind to drift into places, or more so memories, that he'd rather not think about. He had fought with so many people throughout his life, some of which he had cherished. In the end, everyone left him, sooner or later, a distance soon growing. Were you the next one to leave...? What if you two had an argument one day, and you decided you couldn't stand being around him anymore? What if he—

"Arthur," your voice reached his ears, tone gentle and soft. Then, your hand came forward to cup his face, carefully turning his head towards you. "You're overthinking again, love." You frowned, making an observation. "Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head.

"No. It's nothing we haven't already discussed." He replied, smiling at you sadly. "It's my own insecurities, nothing you need to worry about, dear." With this, your frown grew before you leaned in, kissing him lovingly.

"I love you," He muttered against your lips, emerald green eyes looking into yours with an adoration reserved only for you. "I love you so much." He meant it with every part of his being. Even with his fears, deep down, he knew you wouldn't abandon him, because you loved him with every part of your being, too.

Canada (Matthew Williams)

He was used to being forgotten. Always the quiet one, he was easily overlooked, even by those closest to him. Honestly, he didn't know how he managed to start dating you, or get you to notice he was there. To him, he wasn't anything special, just maple leaves and the friend of a bear who barely knew who he was. He didn't deserve you.

"Matthew," You smiled at him one morning over breakfast. "I've been practicing my French recently, thought it'd be useful, y'know? Can I speak to you a bit and get your feedback? I'm not too good at it yet..."

He nodded, returning your smile. You were so smart, so clever, so cute. You were always trying to learn new things, especially when it came to him and his nation. You never forget about him, you were so sweet, so unique, and he was just... himself.

"Hmm..." You hummed in faux contemplation, acting like you were trying to remember what you were going to say. You knew exactly what was on your mind. "Why don't I start with a pretty common phrase? Je t'iame." He blushed at your words. You told him that every day without fail, but hearing it in French felt different somehow, more meaningful in a way.

"Y-You said it excellently." He stuttered out, heart racing as you looked into his amethyst eyes, a gleam of admiration for him in your own.

"Ooh! Let me try out another phrase, then," You grinned, leaning forward slightly over the table. "These ones are a bit more complicated. Tu es l’amour de ma vie. Tu es mon âme sœur," the words poured out from your lips, the sound like music to his ears. You said it perfectly, how long had you been practicing? You must've put in a lot of effort...

"Woah!" You gasped, standing up from your seat at the sight of small tears welling up in his eyes. You rushed over to him, holding his face gently in your hands as your thumbs wiped away his tears. "I didn't mean to make you cry—"

He sniffled, standing up to wrap you in a tight embrace. "I don't deserve you," He whispered, voice shaky. He was happy, so happy. He loved you, and he'd never stop. "Je t’aime de tout mon cœur," he told you with love, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he did so. "I love you with all my heart," he clarified with a small chuckle after you shot him a confused look.

"How do I say that, but back to you?" You questioned, tilting your head slightly in curiosity. Adorable, you were beyond adorable. He chuckled again, answering you only but kissing you lovingly. He'd teach you soon enough, but for now, he was focused on expressing his love for you in ways that involved less French.

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withonly-sweetheart · 21 days

Text

Bloody Dove

You didn't know the effect a vampire's eyes could have on you, or your life. Fooled yourself into thinking you were his pretty little dove, didn't you? Well, all pretty things must rot eventually.

a/n: aight... so... uhm... @eyesofsix UR ART WILL FOREVER HAVE ME IN A CHOKEHOLD... LOOK WHAT U MADE ME DO 😔 this one's short and sweet like u <333

the second pic in the banner of leon is by them, go check them out i cannot tell you how talented they are all my moots are so talented i cant anymore 😭

tw: mentions of blood, character death, gore, stuff like that i dont know if i can classify this as dead dove actually but just in case!

wc: 1.3k

The night was cloaked in darkness, the type only a small, secluded village could offer. The moon hangs low in its humble abode, accompanied by twinkling stars as its silvery light casts eerie shadows that dance up to you, interrupted by an occasional passing car.

It’s so quiet you can hear the wind whispering eerily outside.

Equally eerie is the man leaning against the light post, eyes reflecting light like twin stars that never leave your motions as you approach. It’s unsettling, to say the least, so after a few minutes, you turn to glare at him.

“Do you need something, sir?” you hiss.

“You’re out late,” he remarks, voice smooth and velvety, carrying a hint of amusement. There’s something hypnotic about his tone, an intensity that makes it hard for you to respond, and his expression tells you nothing more.

“I'm traveling,” you reply grudgingly, trying to make it obvious that you don’t want any small talk.

But his gaze is fluid, languid, uncaring. “Strange time of year to be traveling.”

“Yeah, well, I hear Canada is pretty nice right about now,” you grumble.

Surprisingly, that sparks a soft laugh from him, something unsettling when compared with his mysterious demeanor. The man's lips curl into a sly smile, his eyes glinting with an unknown intent.

"Aren’t you funny?" he murmurs.

On second thought, maybe booking a taxi would be better after all. But just as you’re about to pull your phone out of your pocket, he says something that startles you enough into hesitating.

“It’s become far too deserted, here,” he whispers, almost to himself, so quiet you might’ve missed it if you weren’t strangely tuned in to his voice. “It’s been so long since we’ve had a visitor.”

“I’m not staying for long,” you mutter back, almost as soft.

“Leaving so soon?” he attempts, chuckling dryly. You glance at him through the corner of your eye, admiring how his hair falls in neat waves over his eyes, reaching the corners of his lips, when pulled back reveal unnaturally sharp canines.

“Mhm,” you say absentmindedly, eyes fixed on his teeth. He catches you watching, and his sly smile widens, revealing what, now exposed to more light, resemble glinting fangs.

“I might just melt," he purrs, his voice sending a sudden spike of heat spearing into your stomach. “Watch your wandering eyes, darling. They might land a sweet girl like you into unwanted trouble.”

“Trouble?” you say, thoughts slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. “What kind of trouble?”

“Why don’t I just show you? After all, I have you right where I want,” he says, twisting to look at you, eyes softening at the corners, mouth quirking up. “You’re bolder than most, I’ll give you that much.”

"Thanks, I guess," you say, shaking your head to clear the strange haze that falls over your thoughts. "I’m not interested, though."

"Not interested?" he repeats, eyes narrowing. "You’re asking for it with those eyes."

"I’m not asking for anything," you reply firmly. "My attention just wandered for a second. It happens."

"Happens, you say?" His tone remains light, but a tightening around his swirling eyes betray his irritation. "I suppose keeping your eyes to yourself happens to be a good idea, no?'"

“I think I will,” you say defiantly, dipping your chin, not as a sign of submission, but of arrogance that you hope irritates him enough to keep him away from you.

But the silence that stretches the minutes into hours only adds to the guilt that slowly drips onto your back, drenching your shirt, an unpleasant feeling that craves to be satiated.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I mean it, sir-”

“Leon,” he interjects, letting his head fall against the metal of the pole. “Please. Not sir.”

“Leon,” you finish, testing out the name on your tongue. It rolls through your mouth like a sweet caramel, or the iron tang of blood. What? “I, uh, didn’t mean it. Really.”

For a long moment he says nothing, studying you through tawny wisps of hair that escape his neat, uniform lines. Then, with obvious reluctance, he shrugs and flashes a cocky grin that fails to reach his eyes. "As you wish, little dove. No harm done."

Of course, no harm done is never the end.

Not for you. You convince yourself that you have control over everything.

But those eyes…

How could you ever say no to those eyes?

<><><><>

Your opulent surroundings seem normal, as if silently mocking you, the tales of your past seeming to drip from the pearls of blood, running into crimson rivulets from where Leon’s teeth pierce your skin.

“You don’t put up much of a fight, do you?” he muses, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, smearing your memories across his face. In some twisted way, you admit he looks good. “I might start to assume you like this little game we’re playing.”

His eyes refract the little light that passes through your own, turning them an odd shade of green, emerald against your pale skin.

“You shouldn’t, you know,” he whispers, breath tickling your neck, fanning across your strained muscles. “Give in, this quickly. What would happen if someone else got their hands on you?”

The idea seems to spark through his mind, the consequences, everything that might happen, just as he says it. His fingers curl around your arm, and something’s switched.

You wonder why he has such an effect on you, why he’s gotten you helpless under his touch, just the ghosts of his fingertips everywhere. Your aunt must be wondering where the hell you are.

Heaven, you think, intoxicated on a feeling you can’t grasp the word for. Your life drains from every star he pecks into your scarred, far from pristine skin that seems to stretch for miles, being marked like a map.

Leon’s lips find the mountains, follow the rivers, murmur soft, loving compliments against the lakes and ponds between your legs, pooling everything that you feel, caged in his arms and legs, spread out for him to explore.

"Trouble seems to find you regardless, my dear. Perhaps it's in your best interest to remain… unfound, for now,” he suggests.

"And what would keep me from running?” you muse, mind already floating to another plane of existence, staring back down at you, ascending through dimensions.

He smiles, small and mirthless. "Trust is a luxury. I would like to think that you would enjoy being with me forever, no?" His voice sings like bees buzzing, like their sticky honey in your ears, dripping from his tongue, sweet like his words and the pout of his lips as he shifts to nose your chin.

“Think of how sad I would be if you left. It isn’t healthy, growing so attached to a little dove I’ve met so quickly and must release so soon.”

So you’ve become his anchor to peace, kept in the room of his heart, if only for a moment while you sing cries of pleasure. You can tell from the desperation clear in his voice, close to falling apart, that it’s been quite a while since this has happened.

But before you realize it, your short life soaks his sheets, painting your story in a redundant shade of ruby that sparkles in the moon’s smile.

And you slip from his embrace, the bloody, broken dove he carved you into with his fingers, sharp arrows that shot you from the night sky.

<><><><>

He doesn’t notice the roll of your eyes until it’s too late. Until you’ve gone limp in his hands, cradled in his arms. He doesn’t understand why you aren’t responding to his gentle nudges until he presses his nose to your throat.

There is no movement. No pulse.

It feels as if the world is his symphony, his to keep, to cherish. Everything around him stills and takes a breath, watching you in your dying glory.

Leon sighs wearily, slightly disappointed.

He had hoped you would’ve lasted longer than that.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy fanart #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil four #tw: blood #tw: death #tw: gore

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everythingne · 5 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ out of the woods - chapter seven (ls2)

Logan tries to give the two of short break in Bali. Which does succeed, but then the Canadian GP tears down anything Dhanishka had left to stand on. Good thing she's got Logan, the Norris' and Charles, right?

warnings/notes: alright buckle in. Like two sex jokes, car accidents, concussions/migraines, lightly mentioned injuries, the FIA doing their job, heavy heavy betrayal, me yet again trying to hint at the biggest Marketing Ploy x Out Of The Woods connection no one has noticed LMAO

Logan's arm is firm around my waist as I stir the food in the pan, watching the sizzle of the chicken against the oil underneath it. I murmur along to the song playing, and Logan sways us to the rhythm. I'm home for a weekend with him while my parents are off in Cambridge with my sister for her college visit. We'd taken the invitation to house sit, deciding to take a full break in the short interim off we have before we both have to leave for Canada.

"We should go somewhere." Logan hums, mouth peppering a kiss to my bare shoulder next to the strap of my tank top. He's been abnormally clingy, and while I would usually mind... it feels nice.

"Where would we even go, Lo?"

He smiles, beginning to pepper soft kisses to my shoulder, trailing them up my neck as he speaks, "Well, Dalton and his wife are in Bali this weekend. He told me he wants to see you again."

"Bali? That's a like.. fifteen hour flight from here." I chuckle, squirming when his kisses get a little ticklish around my neck and the air he huffs out in a alguh rolls across my skin.

"Fifteen hours there, then a twenty three hour flight to Canada." He says, "I looked into it."

I blink, then look down at him, "You already bought the tickets, didn't you?"

Logan smirks and I laugh, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, "I'll tell my parents tonight when they get back. I'm sure they won't mind."

Logan grins and pops a few more kisses to my lips, cheeks, and forehead before I shooing him away so I can keep cooking. The meal I'm making is not something I'd typically be eating, because its for Logan's meal plan, but luckily his team had let me throw in a small bit of Indian influence to the dish via a makeshift biryani dish. Which I know Logan's been missing by the way he melts when he steals a bite.

"You cook like your mom used to when we were kids." Logan groans against my shoulder and I laugh, taking my own spoonful and pouting a bit because its not as flavorful as we used to make it.

"You have to come to Bahrain over your winter break so you can have a proper Aayi Dubey biryani with all the spices and such." I muse, "it's lacking my mothers proper smothering of spices, sadly meal plans do restrict us from going full Indian mother here."

Logan nods, taking a bit more of the rice dish into his mouth and I laugh softly before making us two bowls of it to eat. He starts washing up some of the dishes while I'm setting the table, and I mange to pull him away to eat--promising we'll finish cleaning later.

We don't talk of much, other than him calling Dalton to let him know we'll be in Bali in two days their time. He taps his sock against my leg as I stare out the window at the setting sun. It's comfortable, just existing with him.

"I never thought we'd get here." Logan admits and I turn, looking at him curiously which makes him continue, "I thought you'd hate me through this whole thing after that night and we'd never speak again."

"I did too, to be honest." I laugh softly, finishing off the last of my rice and setting the bowl aside to take Logan's hands to stop him from picking at his fingers, "I called Lando about it, since he was the only person I knew in London at the time since Oscar was... I don't even remember, and Charles was in Monaco. I went to his and Olivia's apartment, the one they have over here because of McLaren? They told me I should just go through with the plan and do the whole fake dating thing because we kinda had too, but also to see if it maybe wasn't as one sided as I thought."

Logan just starts to giggle, small laughs that slowly grow louder before he brings my hand to his lips again, kissing my palm and then each finger.

"What's got you like this?" I laugh in response, and he grins at me sloppily with the most lovestruck look as his lips hover over my left hand. His bottom lip just brushing along my ring finger as he smiles and shrugs.

"Funnily enough, Dalton told me the same thing.” He firmly kisses my ring finger now, and just resorts to playing with my hands as a fidget instead, “You really fell for me huh?"

And now it's my turn to laugh, standing up to lean over the table to properly kiss my boyfriend. He grins, meeting me halfway with a gentle caress of my jaw and when we pull back, I rest my forehead to his.

"I was always in love with you, dumbass."

Hours later we're at that same table, Logan making sure the little decorative centerpiece my mother has is perfectly clean while I dot my lipstick back to perfection.

I figured cleaning the entire house and then making ourselves well pull together would keep my father from realizing we'd done nothing but laze around for the last few days.

Hey, we were on break, okay?

“Aw fuck.” I complain as I twist out my lipstick a bit more. Logan hums, looking over at me as I groan impatiently as I pull the whole tube up.

At the second groan he asks, “What’s a matter?”

“I’m almost out of lipstick.” I whine in complaint and he huffs out a laugh, stepping around the table to press a few soft kisses to my cheek.

"We can buy more tomorrow, yeah? Isn't there a Dior in City Centre?" He hums, pressing a kiss to my lips that has me rubbing the lipstick off his lips with a laugh as his arms wrap firmly around my waist.

"Yes, but it's fine, I can get it later and--"

Logan cuts me off with a firmer kiss this time, letting me wipe the lipstick off his lips again as he says, "Let me buy you a refill. For old times sake."

"Fine." I smile as the door opens and Logan retracts to just make it look like he was taking the lipstick from me to put it in my purse. I smile as Anya bounces to my side and starts babbling about the campus and such. I glance over my shoulder to see Logan with mt parents and the smile and wink my mom sends me says one thing,

This is all gonna work out.

logansargeant

liked by daltonsargeant, oscarpiastri, sebvettel, and 876k others...

logansargeant: booked the tickets before i asked her :)

tagged: dhanishkadubey, daltonsargeant, a.sargeant

dhanishkadubey: he deadass goes "my brothers in bali" 😭

user1: SHUT UP SHE WENT ON FAMILY VACATION?

a.sargeant: it was lovely having u and isa!!!

user2: dhanishka sargeant at this point fr

I'm standing in the bathroom of the hotel this time when Logan wraps his arms around my waist. I can hear Dalton and Ashlynn laughing in the connected living room, it feels weirdly homely as he presses a soft kiss to my jaw as one of his hands rubs small soothing circles against my hip bone.

"James call you?" I asked, I had been the one to hand him his phone, so I had seen the caller ID.

"He asked about you, actually." Logan rests his head on my shoulder once I've finished fixing up my hair and I hum as I lean back into his touch. His arms are firm, and the way his gaze wanders across my face tells me he's thinking as he takes one of my hands. My left ring finger is pecked by his lips before he settles them back at my waist again.

"Me?" I hum, watching the way he nods and still thinks. I assume it's the wording as his hands fiddle with something. I'm too focused on doing my eyeliner to look.

"You didn't answer your phone and he wanted to say he’s got the final draft of your contract ready to be signed.”

I laugh softly, looking at him in the mirror, “Wow, already?”

"Mhm." Logan kisses my cheek once I'm done with my eyeliner and steps aside to just watch me finish up my makeup. Once I've sprayed myself down with setting spray, I go to grab my lipstick and open it, pausing when I notice it's refilled.

Logan wears a triumphant smile.

"You." I poke his chest and giggle, capping the lipstick before turning around to kiss him. He laughs into the kiss, catching himself on the doorway as his hands slide around my lower back. One kiss turns to two, and ever since we'd fallen back in love it'd been impossible to keep off of eachother. Like we were making up for lost time.

A few seconds after a soft groan leaves the back of Logan's throat, followed by my giggle, Dalton shouts,

"I'm walking in, you both better be dressed!"

Logan and I laugh and I part from him, lifting my hands to fix up the bits of his hair that I'd jostled. Dalton smiles as he steps in and looks us over.

"What did you think we were doing?" Logan says to Dalton who shrugs, punching his brothers arm.

"Something not PG." Dalton shrugs and I blush, now taking my turn to whack his chest.

"Not with your immature ass around," I hum, turning back to finish up my make-up while Dalton and Logan talk about getting to our dinner reservation.

It's weird how naturally I slot into this little family, like I've always belonged.

Canada starts great. Luckily for Logan, and his success in straights, theres quite a few here. Unluckily for me, it means my overtaking this weekend is gonna be shit.

But, I know I'll fight.

I qualify Q3, beating Logan out by less than .5 or even smaller. I can't even really remember as the whole weekends a blur. Ferrari is practically running me ragged, insane amounts of training, simulator work, media... I'm exhausted each night when I fall into Logan's hotel room bed. His arms barely wrapping around me before I'm asleep against his chest.

He promises it's okay, but I feel like shit each morning for not spending time with him. But he just presses a kiss to my jaw and squeezes my hip as I get out of bed way too early to shower.

And after three nights of that, it's time for the race. By Sunday I feel like a husk, trudging myself to the garage with a water bottle full of Red Bull I'd stolen from Max. I go through the motions, take my migraine medication just as a precaution as I feel a headache forming.

And the first half of the race is fine, until I overtake Oscar to fight Carlos for P3. And I manage to get him on the hairpin turn, but something is weird about how easily he lets me by. The back wheel of my car clips something and I start to spin. I right myself, but narrowly dodge Carlos, who whips around me.

It's fine. I'm fine.

Something bumps me again and I check my mirrors, one of the RB cars coming very close to my side. I curse, steering in a bit more and understeering to get out of who I assume is Yuki's way before I'm blocking him from overtaking.

When did he get around Oscar?

"Wing damage, wing damage, I need to box." I curse into my headset, feeling the steering starting to go. It's always my steering first, I expect the rear wing to follow shortly.

"Copy."

I turn in a bit harder now, trying to get to the pit lane. It's becoming harder to steer and I feel panic rising in my stomach but I clamp it down. All I can do in this moment is trust myself, and trust my training.

I don't make it to the pitlane.

We go back through the hairpin and Carlos juts out, making me swerve to dodge. With my shit steering, it sends me into a spin. I shriek, grabbing my harness as the car--and the world around me, shuffles and spins. When the car stills I huff out slow breaths, willing myself to open my eyes.

I'm in the wall.

I can't move.

I force breaths in, force my hands to unstick from my harness. My hands come to the steering wheel and I shake, trying to disconnect it. Everything feels disconnected. I can't hear. The world is blurry. I feel sick. Sicker than sick. I manage to get the steering wheel out, tossing it up to the top of the car.

I realize no ones called for me over the radio, through the incessant ringing in my ears.

I click off the restraints slowly, trying not to jostle my aching ribs, and I get out of my car with shaking arms. And then promptly fall back in.

"Fuck!" I shriek, groaning and arching my back out of pure pain. Two hands come to my shoulders and I lift my head to see Lando. I know he's talking, but my head is swimming too much to focus on his words.

"C'mon, Danny." Lando's voice finally cuts through when he lifts my visor, "C'mon, we're gonna get you out, okay?"

"Your race..!" I gasp and he shakes his head.

"I can always get more points later, but I can't do anything if you're seriously injured and I don't help you now." He says and I nod. His hands grab under my shoulders and he helps hoist me up to sit on the halo. I try to focus, but find myself in a haze.

Somehow, I end up on a stretcher. My helmet is off and I blink slowly as Lando holds my hands.

"Dhanishka." He says softly. When did he take his helmet off?

"Lando." I hum back as the stretcher starts to roll. He follows, his hands tight in mine as he follows inside the ambulance. They've got me covered in blankets, and something clicks.

"Lando. Lando." I start saying, slapping his hands when he's not looking at me. He stops, taking my hands in his, but I just see that he's looking at me so I gasp out, "tell Logan to race. He's gonna wanna not because I got hit, tell him he has to. Tell him I said so."

When Lando nods, coaxing me to lay down again as they strap me in, I feel a bit more at ease... but the world is still soft and fuzzy and I still feel sick.

Concussed, strained muscles around my ribs, and something fucked up with my shoulder.

I'm out fully for a week, I'll skip Barcelona and be back for Austria.

Lando and Olivia are by my side when I'm told. Olivia taking it upon herself to use my phone to call my parents to let them know what was going on, and when she disappears into the hall, Lando keeps a soothing hand intertwined with mine. It's my first injury, ever. Not just a sore spot that'll go away.

And of course, the hazy symptom I'd been feeling all weekend had to be a major migraine on its way. So I'm grumpy, in serious pain, and quickly losing my stomach in a hospital bathroom while a nurse gently ties my hair back and rubs my shoulders while Lando goes out in the hall to grab Olivia.

I'm so weak I can hardly move, and the nurse is so kind, so gentle. It makes me want to cry as she guides me through the hardest parts of my migraine and gets some painkillers for my IV when it's clear I'm only set to get worse.

It takes off the edge as I'm coaxed to lay down in bed once more, a bucket off to the side if needed.

I learn from the TV playing in the room that Logan went on to place P5 behind Oscar, Carlos, Charles, and Max, in that upwards succession. Which makes me feel better a bit as Lando and Olivia help me get situated. It's only been maybe twenty minutes since the race ended, but I can hear more commotion outside than before.

A nurse calls out my room number and it takes maybe two seconds before Logan comes through the door, still in his racing gear, holding his helmet, panting like he’d ran straight here.

He had, hadn't he?

“Isa.” he sighs and I smile, extending a heavy arm to him. He shuts the door, blocking the hall light and makes his way inside the little makeshift room. He slots perfectly against my side and gently kisses my head, sighing once he’s got me safe in his hands. I wrap my un-IV'd arm around Logan shoulder, kissing what part of his head I can reach without moving. He settles me back against the blankets as Lando gives him his chair, going to get another from the hall.

Olivia sighs softly and moves a bit closer to check my IV, “She’s pretty badly concussed. Strained some muscles around her ribs and her shoulder. She's out for Barcelona, they're gonna try to get her back in for Austria."

"Ah, shit." Logan hums and I lean into his touch so he shifts so one of his hands holds mine, the other running through the wispy bangs by my face that have fallen out of my ponytail.

"Lo..." I murmur softly and he hums, looking down at my small pout. A tiny smile crosses his lips as he leans down to peck mine, then rests his forehead to mine as I whine, "my head hurts."

"I know, baby." He's basically crooning, kissing the tip of my nose and squeezing my hand, "you're gonna be alright."

Olivia gives a tiny sigh, patting Lando's arm and making a vague motion for him to follow her out of the room. They leave me and Logan in silence, the only sound the soft noise of his thumb running along my knuckles, the heart monitors methodical beeps, and the occasional kiss.

Logan, Lando, and Olivia take me back to Ferrari. The two Norris' waiting outside while I slip in with Logan. I'm only half sneaking him in and out, because if Ferrari even tried to raise hell with me when I was as in pain and as pissed off as I was right now, someone would be getting hit.

I nod to Charles when I enter and he gives me a half nod, trying to conceal the way I sneak Logan in by engrossing the engineer with a few more questions about... my car?

Why mine? Why not his?

I let the question slip from my mind, I figure I can ask him later, and go to my room. Logan helps me collect my stuff, having already brought me a change of clothes to the hospital given to him by Charles. Logan uses my phone to send a text to my manager Lucie to show her the damage to the suit, helmet, and shoes so she can get me set for new ones and then we make sure I have all my belongings and bounce.

I'm halfway through shutting the door when I hear Charles shout, "You did what?!"

"She's an idiot if she hasn't realized by now." I hear a mechanic say and I clamp a hand over Logan's mouth, he's about to complain (which, I'm sneaking him out of my drivers room, he has no right to) when a cruel laugh echoes followed by Charles' shocked gasp.

A short conversation in French, slowly getting louder and louder, is cut off by a loud slap and a scuffle. Eyes widening as I hear the two beginning to shout even louder and I grab Logan by the sleeve and shove him in my drivers room. His big eyes watch me as I pause, one hand on the door before I curse and look back at him with a sort of flame in my eyes.

"Stay!" I hiss, before slamming the door shut and following the hall to the garage. He feet carry me, sliding on the balls of my feet into the room as Charles shoved a mechanic against a wall.

"Charlie!" I shriek despite my head pounding, moving forward, knocking him to the ground with my shoulder. As he fall he pants up at me and I turn to the mechanic, then down to Charles, then step back.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

Charles wipes blood from his own nose and slowly rises to his feet. There's a challenge in his eyes, and a challenge in the mechanics--and I come to realize that Aakash stands off to the side with his fists tight.

"What is this?!" I shout again and look down the hall where Astrid is dragging Logan out of my room and I blink, straightening up. She basically tosses Logan at me, and my arms shoot out to grab him as he sticks to my side.

"Ferrari's been purposefully fucking up your car this entire season! Aakash and his--" Charles starts to say before Aakash moves. It's Logan who manages to intercept, shoving me behind him as he shoves Aakash to the floor. My eyes widen to literal dinner plates, backing up until my back hits something and I look up to see Olivia.

Lando seems to have given up on holding her back as she holds her phone up.

"Charles, talk." She snips and the Monégasques listens, quickly spilling everything from his lips as Logan keeps Aakash and the other mechanic at bay, Astrid glaring daggers.

"Aakash has been having the engineers purposefully loosen the steering and rear wings, causing any and all jostling to randomly disengage them. They have it all written out on Aakash's computers, even if he tries to delete the files Ferrari keeps all changes up to a month." Charles shouts, moving closer to where Olivia keeps a hold on my shoulders. Logan backs off as well when Lando calls him over, but the guys stand in front of me and Olivia, like a wall.

"Astrid's plan was to have Dhaniska continuously wreck out so that there would be positive PR of Logan coming to her aid, but bad PR for Dhanishka because she keeps wrecking." Charles says and I see Olivia's jaw tick, her eyes glancing back to Lando's who's are equally as shifty.

Somethings not right.

Olivia and Lando echo each other as they say, "Who?"

"My manager," Logan peeks over his shoulder, "Astrid Marina."

"Oh you've gotta be--" Lando starts but Olivia's shoving her phone in my hands. And I'm reminded of the time Lando had called her the 'most aggressive Piastri' at a bar during Monaco's weekend as he darts forward but not before Olivia delivers a strong backhand to Astrid.

"You fucking bitch! They're not your little PR playthings!" Olivia screams and Lando grabs her arm, pulling her back as she keeps shouting, "I should've made sure no fucking team ever hired you again but I didn't think anyone was that level of stupid!"

Logan and I share a confused look. How the fuck does Olivia know Astrid and what the hell did Astrid do to her?

“She’s Astrid?!” Charles shouts, “what the fuck?”

“Why do you all know her!” Logan shouts and the room goes quiet. Olivia's mouth gapes, but it's interrupted by a few stewards entering the garage to see what's happening. My headache flares and I grip Logan's arm when everyone starts shouting over each other and he escorts me outside where it's a bit colder and a lot quieter.

"I-I don't understand." I eventually choke out, and Logan wraps me tight in his arms. Soft kisses are pressed to my head as he coaxes me to sit with him on the ground outside Ferrari.

And when a steward approaches us, and he sits with us, I wish I could be surprised by the fact we're being interrogated.

But yet, I'm not surprised.

liked by oliviapiastri-norris, anyadubey, alexalbon, and 786k others...

f1: FIA Statement on the investigation of @ scuderiaferrari .

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taglist (thank you !)

@nichmeddar @shineforever19 @d3kstar @chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia @daemyratwst

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fanfiction #ls2 fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic #ls2 x reader #nicole wrote this

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houpss · 7 months

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REST

🧊–return to masterlist ¡! ✥

"Good day, this is JYP ENTERTAINMENT. 26.12.2021 Lily Hwang of Stray Kids is taking a rest due to worsening panic attacks and anxiety disorder, which is why her activities are suspended for a while. All of Stray kids' next events, comebacks and promotions will be released without her participation until she is fully recovered! We ask fans for understanding and all possible support, she asked you not to worry about her.JYPE will consider the artist's health a top priority and will do everything possible to support Lily's speedy recovery."

Then this statement from the Company shocked everyone and everyone was very upset by this development of events. Hundreds of thousands of letters of support were written to Lily in the bubble, they never forgot about her and encouraged her. MANIAC's comeback came out without her participation, but the students were so upset because Lily was in the teaser and in the video, but she was not in the promo or other songs.Lily appeared for the first time since her return to the bubble in May (01.05.2022), writing two messages:

[🐻]::Y/n!! hi, I feel much better. did you hear that the boys will have a world tour?:) Please visit it! I promise you'll like it (06:19 a.m)

[🐻]::I miss you and the boys, pain makes us stronger (08:32 a.m)

○○○

On the first day of the STRAY KIDS world tour in Seoul, Lily came to the concert with Mingi and Tenshi (she was the only one who was very scared), sitting in the front rows and she was shown on the big screen at the end of the concert, the boys burst into tears and were very happy to see her because they didn't know about her arrival at the concert, Lily also cried, and then she was allowed to go up on stage and they all stood there together and cried,they hugged so much:((( I can say that it was a difficult concert without Lily and the first concert after the pandemic, the boys were very upset and happy to see Stay again, but so tearful because of Lily. (this moment went viral everywhere), (date 05.05.2022)

On July 31, 2022, the video and song TIME OUT were released, with the release of which Lily left the rest, and the students were in great shock and also cried when they saw Lily in the video and heard her voice, everyone was incredibly happy about it. Then Lily wrote in the bubble:

[🐻]::Next to Y/n I am stronger, I promise to work and work and make my baby Y/n happy (11:02 p.m)

[🐻]::War is over (reference to the song) (11:07 p.m)

[🐻]::Oh...do you want for me to stay with you? (11:10 p.m)

[🐻]::During these seven months my life has become better! all thanks to Y/n's support~ (11:12 p.m)

[🐻]:: I missed you too, baby! let's continue to work harder so that we move forward together (11:15 p.m)

[🐻]:: I traveled a lot and went to a psychotherapist, so I felt better... (11:18 p.m)

[🐻]:: My close friends and boys helped me a lot (11:27 p.m)

[🐻]:: I don’t regret that the MANIAC comeback was without me! so Y/n saw the boys' talents to the fullest (11:28 p.m)

[🐻]:: Should I live onair tomorrow??

[🐻]:: I'll carry it out! and we'll have fun! (11:30 p.m)

[🐻]:: And now I'm going to bed! soft dreams, baby 🩷 (11:35 p.m)

Lily suffered all these seven months, she was terribly ill. She did not leave the room, did not eat, and did not communicate with anyone. Even SKZ couldn’t get her out of this state, not to mention Lily’s friends. Then Donghyun arrived from New York and, together with Kiri and Tenshi, began working on Lily’s condition. They organized a tour for her to different countries: Italy, France, Canada, Greece, UAE, Japan, Great Britain, and she also visited the Maldives. Lily even thought about committing suicide if it weren’t for Seungmin, who saw the prerequisites in time and sent Lily along with Chan to a psychotherapist (Lily refused to go alone). She wanted to quit K-pop completely, but her close people stopped her. What about Lily's parents? They didn’t know about it, or rather, Lily’s mother knew and quietly sent her money for treatment, but her father simply didn’t care. he abandoned his daughter back in 2017.

I can say that everyone handled Lily's rest differently, but it was hard. I think Felix and Jongin were the most depressed,Changbin hid his fears within himself , Minho became more irritable and Jisung was anxious without Lily...what about Chan and Hyunjin? They saw Lily most at this time, perhaps she only let them in and sometimes Felix, she didn’t want to see others. Seungmin observed the situation from afar and he was the one who helped her the most, but is not visible.

#stray kids female oc #stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids 9th member #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz au #skz #skz 9th member #skz female member #skz female oc #bts female member #bts 8th member #kpop #kpop gg #kpop girls #fictional idol group #fictional characters

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letsgetrowdy43 · 1 year

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Heaven on earth ☆—

This takes place the night of Quinn's NHL debut, up until the summer of 2020. It's a bit angsty, but nothing too heartbreaking :)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, lmk if anything else :)

The continuation

Au Masterlist

“You’re gonna do amazing things Quinn,” Honey mumbled as her thumb ran over the cracked skin of his bottom lip. Their legs tangled in the sheets of the shared hotel bed they were lying in, just hours before he had to get up to start preparing for his first-ever game with the Canucks.

This was one of the last nights the couple spent together before she inevitably had to leave him to go back to Michigan to start her summer internship at USNTDP to do some media for the draft and the summer showcase.

"I'm so proud of you," she mumbled as his hand raked through the ends of her hair. Quinn laid silently, his hands gripping at the exposed skin of her hip as his face buried itself in her neck. His warm breath sent chills down her spine as he placed a kiss on her collarbone.

"I worried about us now that I'm here," he mumbled into her skin as she halted her movements. A sad smile graced her lips as she reached down to cup his face and pull his attention to her, "I am too, but we can make it work," she whispered as she hugged him closer to her chest. "I just spent so long without you, and I feel like I just got you, m' not ready to let you go yet." "I'm not going anywhere Q, you're stuck with me," she promised as her lips pressed kisses to the crown of his head, he hummed in approval as he lifted his head to kiss her gently on the mouth.

☆☆☆

The summer season ended as quickly as it started, sending Honey in tears back to Umich while Quinn hopped on his flight back to Canada to continue his rookie year. And soon it was Christmas break, and both teens dreading the conversation they were going to have the moment they saw each other.

long distance had not been working, there wasn't a lack of trying, it just felt like another thing being added to both of their plates that they were quite equipt for. It pained both of them to see each other once again, Quinn engulfing her into a bone-crushing hug, her hand cupping the sides of his face as she placed a kiss on his lips, followed by a sad sigh.

The drive from the airport to the Hughes house for him to finally see his family again was tense, they both needed to talk, they had both hinted at the possible break, needing to relieve some of the pressures of life. Christmas songs played over the radio as Honey parked her car in her family's driveway, looking out the windshield at the neighbour's house where Ellen and her mother sat, each nursing a glass of wine as they awaited Quinn's arrival.

"Do you want to talk now? Or do you want to have one more good night?" he asked as his hand intertwined with hers, the chapped skin of his lips brushed against her knuckle as his attention switched from out the car window to her. "We can talk in the morning," she whispered, fighting off the tears in her eyes as she squeezed Quinn's hand, looking up to see him equally as emotional as her.

"We need to pull it together," she grinned as she watched a smile work its way onto Quinn's face.

☆☆☆

Honey returned to school a little more heartbroken than when she left, many tears shed over her breakup. The absence of Quinn in her life was hurting a bit more than she first expected Missing his texts, his voice, even just seeing his face on her phone, it was all a big mind fuck, she held so much love in her heart for him, but it didn't seem like enough when they needed it most. But now she sat with all this pent-up love for him, no way of expressing it, no way of talking about it, just repressing it into this tiny box.

She stared at the contact on her phone, his picture a photo of them on his draft day, her finger hovering over the dial button. Fighting off the urge to just hit call and praying that he'd answer, or even just hear his voicemail.

She hit call on a whim, hands shaking s she held the phone up to her ear, letting it ring three times before deciding to hang up, but on the last ring, he picked up. "Hun?" that knocked the air right out of her lungs. "Hey Q," she whispered, pathetic, she thought to herself as she craved to hear him speak again.

Quinn sat up in his bed, the phone pressed against his ear, stomach rolling at the defeated sound of her voice, "everything okay?" "No," she sighed, tears in her eyes, "this is really hard." Quinn knew exactly what she meant, he'd been battling with the issue of reaching out as well, "I miss you so fucking much," she whispered as he listened to her silent cries on the other end.

They hadn't even been apart a month yet and they both found themselves in a world of hurt.

"Do you think we made a mistake?" he asked lowly, praying that she said a simple 'yes' to ease his nerves. "Yes," she said weakly, "but, it wasn't working, neither is this, but that was much worse," she said truthfully, crushing his hopes of her asking them to put the break nonsense to an end and get back together. "I get that," he said, his hand rubbing over his face, "but, I don't want you to be completely out of my life now that we aren't together."

the two of them talked for hours on the phone that night, coming to the conclusion to not completely cut each other out of their lives, they were Quinn and Honey, the world didn't turn if they weren't talking. "I need to get some sleep," she mumbled looking at the clock on her bedside table, "I love you, I hope you know that." "I love you too," he whispered, "maybe someday in the future, this will work out the way we want it to." "I hold you to that Quinner," she said with a grin as she hung up, the weight on her chest lifting slightly as she got ready for bed.

☆☆☆

Quinn returned home to Michigan for the summer with a lot of nerves about seeing Honey again, they continued to stay close throughout the year, he even visted her during the All-star break, but something about spening the next few months so closely with her seemed like a taunting dream that was gong to be his downfall.

"Honey is stopping by tonight with her parents for dinner" Ellen said nonchalantly as she started prepping for dinner, "just thought I'd let you know."

He knew what his mom was up to, Honey told him that she suspected their mothers were conspiring some plan to get them back together. It was useless though, the timing was still wrong, Honey would now be going back for her senior year, and Quinn was still trying to acclimate his game to the level he wanted to be at, there was just too much going on in their lives for their relationship to resume.

An hour later Hun stood at the door along with her parents, a pretty sundress on as she hugged Ellen and his brothers, a smile on her face as she worked her way down the line of Hughes family members and ended up face-to-face with Quinn. He was sure he was going to pass out, mesmerized by the way her dress clung to her curves, admiring the post-break-up haircut she'd given herself, it was all too much for him.

"hey Q," she mumbled as she kept her distance, not knowing if he wanted a hug as well, when in reality there was nothing more he wanted than to be held by her. So he leaned forward and pulled her into his chest, "missed you, Hun," he mumbled as he smushed his cheek on top of her head, her arms wrapping around him as she melted into his frame.

And that was how the rest of the summer was spent, harmless flirting and fleeting touches as they danced around the idea of intimacy. Up until the Hughes brothers and friends invited her out to their lake house on her week off, boat days and bonfires seemed like the remedy for a stressful summer season at her summer internship.

The real remedy seemed to be the moment she and Quinn were a few drinks in, short glances and drunken haze brought them back together. Sloppy kisses, the taste of salt water and sunscreen on his skin as she fought back the guilty burden of knowing that this feeling wasn't going to be forever. Finding comfort in long nights of shared kisses, and gentle touches, it was like heaven on earth, but followed by the weighing feeling that this was just a summer thing, in a month's time they'd be back in their respective lives apart from each other, and that was enough to make both of them sick to their stomachs.

#thelittlesthughesau!!#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #dad!quinn hughes #luke hughes #umich hockey #jack hughes

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pursuedbyamemoryy · 1 year

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Hope you're having a good day/night! I come with a request if you want to write it (if not then that's cool!) What about a Charles Smith x reader where it's like 2 or three months after leaving with him to help the Wapiti people and reader finds out shes pregnant, and is super worried to tell him because of everything going on, of course he finds out though.

a promising future

☆ thank you for requesting! i love charles so much and i had fun writing this, i hope you enjoy reading <3 !!

warnings - pregnancy ( lmk if i'm missing any ! )

w/c - 1.8k

it had been nearly three months since the downfall of the van der linde gang. you and charles had decided to stay up north with the wapiti people and help them get to safety, rather than go back to beaver hollow. this gang had meant a lot to you, and the fact that it was falling apart was hard for you. you were close to so many members, including a couple who had unfortunately already passed away. you knew it was inevitable, but you had decided you’d rather not see the absolute end, so you stayed with charles. he was all you needed anyways, he was the love of your life, and he meant everything to you.

you and charles helped rains fall and the wapiti people pack up and move up north to canada, helping them get away from colonel favours and the army, in hopes of giving them as much freedom and peace as possible. you were happy to help, rains fall and his people were nothing but kind to you, and they deserved the best they could get. however with the stress of helping them out, you started to feel sick, and oh so exhausted. it’s just stress. i’m not resting enough. i haven’t been drinking enough water. you tried to convince yourself. deep down you knew that wasn’t true, but you didn’t want to add any more stress to you or charles’ life.

you and charles hadn’t exactly been careful when you’d slept together recently. you hadn’t had much time to yourselves, so you took advantage of every moment alone, which resulted in neither of you caring about where he finished. you had been around when abigail was pregnant with jack, and you had a lot of the same symptoms she did back then. there was no doubt in your mind that you were pregnant, and you were terrified.

you wanted to tell charles, you really did, but with everything going on these past few months you could never find a good time. you figured the last thing he needed right now was to be told that he was going to be a father, that you had a baby on the way. you knew that normally, under any other circumstances he’d be happy. but now he was working day and night, doing what he could to help the tribe get settled, helping with the sick, and getting them what they needed. you didn’t want him to worry about you and your baby on top of that.

you knew charles had noticed you were out of sorts, of course he had. he was very observant when it came to you especially, and you caught him looking at you worriedly here and there over the past few weeks. he knew you’d come to him when you were ready to talk, so he didn’t pry.

you were lost in your thoughts, helping with the laundry with some other tribe members. you heard someone come up behind you and rest their hand on your shoulder, you knew immediately who it was. he brushed your hair to the side, kissing your neck gently. you leaned into his touch, humming happily.

“hi charles” you said with a smile.

“hi, my love,” he said, placing another soft kiss to your jaw. “i was going to go out and hunt and get something for dinner, i was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

you smile, and nod. “yeah sure, i’m just about finished with laundry anyways.” you wrung the water out of the shirt you were washing, laying it out on a rock to dry. standing up, you wiped your hands on your skirt and turned around to face charles, grabbing his hand as he led you to your horses.

“have you found any good hunting spots around here yet?” you say, patting taima gently and making your way over to your own horse, tightening his saddle and giving him a sugar cube.

“i found one decent spot close to here that had a bunch of deer, other than that i haven’t had much time to hunt.” he made sure taima’s saddle was secure and mounted her, waiting for you to do the same.

you hummed in response, mounting your own horse and riding beside charles out of the tribe’s current camp.

the ride was quiet, but not awkward. there was a lot of comfortable silence between the two of you, which you never minded. he led you a short while away from camp to a grassy clearing next to a thick grove of trees, where you saw a herd of deer lazily grazing.

he held his finger up to his lips, motioning you to be quiet so you didn’t scare away the deer. you nodded, slowly and quietly getting off your horse and drawing your bow from your saddle bag, charles doing the same.

you crouched down next to him, stealthily making your way closer to the deer. you got close enough that you’d be able to land a good shot, but still far enough away that you wouldn’t scare the herd. you both drew your bows, aiming at different deer. charles landed a clean shot, and while yours wasn’t as clean you both managed to take down the two deer with just one arrow each.

charles looked over at you with a smile, “nice work as always, my love.” he grabbed one of your hands, kissing the back of it gently.

“i could say the same to you.” you said with a smile.

you both stand up, making your way over to the deer, slinging the one you killed over the back of your horse and securing it. usually a quick hunt such as this wasn’t too tiring, but you were quickly starting to feel exhausted. you watched as charles secured his deer on taima’s rump. he then made his way over to you, looking into your eyes deeply, as if he could read all your thoughts.

“are you feeling okay? i know we’ve had a lot going on but you seem... distracted?” he took your hands in his.

you took a deep breath. you needed to tell him. he deserved to know. god, how do you even tell someone this? would he be upset? would he be excited? your mind was racing, your hands shaking in his. you started to tear up, your anxiety taking over.

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he pulled you in for a hug, running his hand up and down your back comfortingly.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, trying to collect yourself and your thoughts. charles didn’t press further, he just continued to hold you until you were ready to talk.

you took another deep breath and took a step back, looking him in the eyes. tell him. he looked worried. tell him. he continued to run his hand up and down your back comfortingly. tell. him.

“i’m pregnant.”

he stiffened slightly, his eyes going wide. “really?” he looked you up and down slowly. “you’re actually…?”

you nodded, looking away from him and at some random spot in the dirt. “yes. i’m sorry, charles.” you said quietly.

“sorry? my love, why are you sorry? this is great news!” he replied immediately, his hands moving to cup your face gently.

“we’ve had so much going on lately… i was worried that you’d be upset because we’ve been so stressed between everything that’s happened between the gang and the tribe...” you rambled, pausing for a moment. “you’re happy then?” you looked back at him, your eyes starting filling with tears once again, this time happy ones.

“of course i’m happy. sure we’ve been busy, but i love you, and i’m more than excited to start a family with you. in fact i’ve been wanting to start a family with you, and now that we’re out of the gang, we don’t have as much to worry about. no more bounties on our heads and pinkertons breathing down our necks.” he grinned. “and i have to be honest, i suspected you might be pregnant, but i hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to you about it.” he chuckled, wiping a stray tear that slipped down your cheek. he looked you in the eyes, then leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

he wasn’t upset at all. he wants this, he wants a family. he’s happy. you kissed him back, wrapping your arms behind his neck.

you let out a sob as you pulled away, tears flowing down your cheeks. “i’m so glad.” you laughed, relieved. of course he was happy, why wouldn’t he be?

you giggled as he peppered kisses across your face, kissing away your tears. he pulled you in for another kiss on the lips, soft, sweet, and passionate. you didn’t pull away until you were both out of breath, resting your forehead against his.

“i love you.” you sighed.

“i love you so much.” you stayed like that for a moment before he reached into his satchel and pulled out a little envelope excitedly. “i almost forgot to tell you, i got us a place. it’s not much as of right now, but i’ll fix it up real nice for us. for our family.” he showed you the deed, which confirmed his statement.

you grinned, kissing him again. “oh charles, this is wonderful, thank you. thank you so much. how did you even afford this?”

“i’ve been saving as much as i can from all the jobs we used to go on while we were in the gang. it wasn’t much at first, but it added up.” he smiled. “we’ll still help out the tribe, of course, but i thought it was about time we got a place of our own. i want our baby to live a better life then we have, and i’ll do anything to make that happen, you hear?” he grabbed your chin gently. “i’ll do anything to make you and our baby happy, because if you’re happy, im happy.” he pulled you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head gently.

you stayed like that for a while, the rest of the world around you forgotten. for all you cared it was just you and charles in that moment. eventually as the sun started to sink below the trees, you decided it was time to head back to camp, lest the spoils of your hunt go to waste. you mounted your horses and made your way back to camp together, happier then you had been in a while. for once your future looked promising, and you were more than happy to be spending it with charles, and eventually your baby.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfic #charles smith #charles smith x reader #pursuedbyamemory writes

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mylittleredgirl · 10 months

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i had a strange dream last night that my mother, when she was in hospice, decided to go back to canada to die. we weren't allowed to go with her. she drove away in a white sedan with her dear lifelong friend who used to be a priest, and left me and my father here. we said our last goodbyes here in the driveway, and she wouldn't promise that we could talk on the phone. we just had to wait and go about our lives, mourning someone who was maybe still alive or had maybe already died, wondering if someone would call to tell us what was happening. i think my dad moved out like he did a while after she died in real life, and it was just me here, remodeling the house.

isn't that such a metaphor for loved ones dying? the hope that they will return to the place they came from and have missed, but the sorrow of not being able to join them. the hope we might receive messages, but it's long distance. that we will never know if they are in peace, in a place they once loved, or if it all ended on the way.

this morning my cousin texted me from canada to tell me that my aunt, my mom's sister, has terminal cancer and she didn't know if anyone had told me yet. (they hadn't.)

there's so much love underneath all the distance (and the family complications that came from my mom leaving the church), but i'm so far and have been since i was a little child. farther now, because i am sick and can't drive nine hours each way for a weekend like i wish i could. i'm not sure if a visit would be welcome (because she's suffering and it would be one more thing for my cousin to manage, not because i'm personally unloved). i could visit my other cousins, perhaps, or my aunts and uncles. i am my mother's representative here on earth now.

my dream wasn't necessarily prophetic, although i hope that it might mean If There Are Spirits that my mom's is going north to support her sister. last week, i re-lived the harrowing end of my mom life while i was writing a letter in support of the death with dignity act. yesterday, i re-read a story i wrote about a son watching his mother suffer from dementia. i wrote it in 2007, two years before my mother's first cancer diagnosis. back then, her great fear was that she would ultimately die from alzheimer's like her mother, who wasted away in hospice for more than 10 years. in the face of that, her dying painfully and relatively young from cancer was a relief to both of us. i guess my aunt will also be spared that fate.

i feel most for my cousin who is closest, who has to hold so much of this. i can't know her experience, but i have done the caretaking, have watched my mother suffer, have had to hold the feelings of my father losing his wife. i don't know my cousin well enough to know how to support her without that support itself adding more weight.

i'm not sure what my next step is. i texted my other cousins, and my cousin's wife who i think will be the best one to help me figure out what will be most helpful. in the meantime i'm processing, i guess.

#death tw #parent death tw

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phoebe-delia · 2 years

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a crooked love in a straight line down

This is for my sweetest friend @written-in-ash. Lyssa I love you so much and I'm incredibly proud of you. Here's to celebrating you, my lovely fandom little sister. Here's some angst, just for you.

Based on the song "I Wish You Would" by Taylor Swift.

CW: break up/make up, angst with a happy ending.

Harry's gotten very good at existing.

He gets up and goes to work each day. He smiles at his co-workers, laughs with Ron and Hermione over lunch at the Ministry cafeteria, and turns in his paperwork on time.

He leaves the office each day and floos home, where there's little to distract him from the heartbreak on the periphery of his attention. He's gotten good at blocking it out during the day; Harry's a master at suppressing his emotions when there's a job to do or someone to hide from, but when he's alone, there's nothing to stop the anguish from washing over him, hot tears running down his cheeks.

It's his own fault, too. He's kept the flat largely the same since Draco left, off to an exciting new potions research position in Canada. Harry tells himself it's because he hasn't had the time to get rid of it all; he's been busy, after all, and it's only been six weeks.

But that doesn't explain why he keeps buying Draco's favorite tea. Why he sleeps in the pajamas Draco bought for him. Why he hasn't thrown out Draco's hair brush or even moved it from its spot on the counter.

He should wipe the flat clear of anything that reminds him of Draco and find someone new. He should stop avoiding pub nights with his friends in favor of wallowing in his flat.

Maybe then he'll finally stop missing Draco with a bone-deep ache that leaves him breathless. Maybe he'll stop being so pathetic, crying and curled up on the sofa like he is now, wearing a t-shirt Draco left behind. Maybe he'll finally move on like Draco surely has with some fit Canadian man who speaks French and probably has a mustache.

Not that Harry's thought about it.

There's a knock at the door. Harry groans to himself, wondering why the world is interrupting his scheduled wallowing time. He turns over onto his stomach, grabbing a pillow and holding it over his head. The knocking turns more insistent, so with a grunt, he forces himself off the couch and over to the door, wiping his cheeks and running a hand through his hair, ready to tell whoever this is to leave him the fuck alone.

He opens the door. "What do you wa—nt?" Harry's voice cracks. "Draco," he breathes. He blinks back the tears already starting to well up again.

Draco looks infuriatingly good, wearing pressed trousers and a button-down shirt with a long trench coat. Harry resents his own joggers and the t-shirt, cheeks heating as he remembers who it belongs to.

"Hi, Harry," Draco says softly. "How are you?"

Harry crosses his arms. "I'm fine," he says, trying to keep his voice even. "What are you doing here?"

Draco bites his lip. "May I come in?"

Harry considers closing the door; he thinks about telling Draco 'no' and shutting him out of his life for good. He thinks about creating his own closure, earning back a scintilla of pride.

He also thinks about stepping aside to let Draco in. He thinks about Draco looking around as he enters, taking in every detail. Harry can see him cataloging every detail, searching for ways it's changed since he left. Harry hates him for it a little, even in his own imagination.

Instead, he says, "Answer my question first. What are you doing here?"

Draco swallows. "I hated Canada."

Harry frowns. "Why?"

Draco runs a hand through his hair, beginning to pace on the small doorway. "I thought that was what I wanted. That's one of the most prestigious potions programs in the bloody world, and they accepted me, and I—I thought I had no choice but to go."

"But you did," Harry says, not caring how bitter he sounds. "You had every choice in the world."

"Yes, I did," Draco mutters. "I did have a choice. I left, and I broke both our hearts in the process. I was an idiot. I could've tried getting over us, but I realized I just don't want to. It took spending six agonizing weeks on the other side of the world to realize that no job, no opportunity," he says the word with disdain, "is worth losing you." He looks at Harry with wide, pleading eyes. "I'm sorry, and I love you," he whispers. "I'm here. I'm home. If you'll have me."

Harry's gripping the doorframe for support, his eyes welling up with tears of relief; a release of anger and hope and love all in one. He doesn't stop one from sliding down his cheek, watching as Draco's own eyes grow teary.

Harry steps back, leaving room for Draco to walk through the threshold. Heart in his throat, he says, "Welcome home."

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batsincastlesociety · 2 days

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FINE. i'll talk about my STUPID GAY characters. number one + two are manato edgeworth and akihiro black; the protagonist and antagonist, respectively.

note: i do apologize if some things are jambled by the way, like the way i order my paragraphs! i'm trying to explain one thing while explaining the other, so they both make sense consecutively, haha!

Manato Edgeworth hails from a long line of nobles. The location that all this takes place in is called Vermillion (for now. i might change the name later, but vermillion still sounds cool), a fictional region that is inspired by a mix between Eastern / Southeastern European cultures and just fucking Canada. Except it's always fucking snowing. The time period is meant to be from 1700 - 1750. Just without all the atrocities! Anyway, Manato is the youngest heir to the Edgeworth family. This bit will become important later.

The reason why Manato ventured into Castle Black is because of two simple reasons: saving face, and greed.

There have been many counts of mysterious disappearances recently, and people have been gossiping that said missing persons may have something to do with Castle Black. (more on that later, too.) Since the local law deems the case unimportant, considering the people that went missing were "mere peasants", Manato elects to visit the castle himself to make himself look like a brave vigilante. Saving innocent peons from grave danger (and maybe a bit of a reward in it for him doing the deed as well), would make everyone in town absolutely adore him.

So, Manato packs his things and heads his merry way to Castle Black, a massive Gothic castle in the middle of the forest. In the middle of the night. In the middle of a snow-covered, freezing winter. So, obviously, nothing could go wrong!

Anyway, I'm going to talk about Castle Black itself, because that's the very area where all of these damned shenanigans are going to be held.

Castle Black is the result of another noble family called the Blacks, consisting of vampires instead of humans. However, instead of heirs automatically being assumed due to breeding without the lower vampires having a say, the way Castle Black is given to a new vampire heir is a bit strange, to say the least.

I haven't fully fleshed out the details yet, but basically, when an heir reaches a certain level of power, all the lower and higher vampires gather together to discuss the pros and cons of the heir in question. The way it goes is akin to an auction.

Say, there is already an heir, but the lower vampires get to discuss whether they would be a hindrance to the locals or not, and if they should inherent Castle Black. If not, then the vampire does not become the Heir of Black, and a new vampire must be bred and raised. If so, then the vampire becomes the Heir of Black, and they become the lord of Castle Black. In Akihiro's case, however, all the vampires were highly against the idea of him becoming the Heir of Black.

Their reasoning is that Akihiro's main schtick is that he is obsessed with humans and stripping away their humanity through killing them, torturing them, and turning them into vampires just to leave them to rot in the snow. Not in that order; he dabbles between the three. :) Anyway, the other vampires didn't like that much, because an incoherently insane lord isn't much of a lord at all, now, is it?

However, it turns out Akihiro had to become the Heir of Black whether he liked it or not, because no other vampire was a living Black, and no other vampire shared the amount of raw intelligence and power that Akihiro had. How convenient for him!

Now, Akihiro may be powerful and rich and smart, but that doesn't stop the other vampires from detesting him completely. Four other vampires have to live in Castle Black with Akihiro: May Solace, Roland Fujimura, and Leo and Lucien Yokohama. I won't delve deeper into their specific roles in this post yet, but the jist of it is basically that they have to begrudgingly serve Akihiro through means of basic, menial tasks; patrolling the castle and providing food and entertainment, to name a few.

Since I have all that set up, I'll talk a bit more about Manato, and how he and Akihiro meet in the first place. Manato may be an intelligent noble himself, and trained with a sword, but he is also, as aforementioned, going to a big-ass Dracula castle in the middle of the forest, winter, and night. So, a vampire attacks him, knocking Manato out cold and actually turning him in the process. He wakes up in Castle Black, now unarmed, bathed, and in different clothes, with gauze around his neck and fangs in his mouth.

There's a ton more to Manato's turning that I can't mention because it would be spoiling everything, but the general plot after this is that Manato is now slowly going insane and must escape Castle Black to protect his sanity and whatever remaining humanity he has left, before he succumbs to his newfound bloodlust and embraces the cruel inevitable.

so yeah! :3

#sanguine requiem #manato edgeworth #akihiro black #my ocs #original character #oc lore #long post #kind of #not really...#text post

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emmylous-world · 10 months

Text

When We Were Young

Chapter 1

Captain John Price x Female oc!Reader (Emma)

Summary: John meets his captains niece and can't seem to get her out of his head.

Warnings: MDNI, Probably will be smut at some part. Violence and Mature themes. Slow burnnnnn.

2,6k words

A/N: I'm baccckkk, I hope you guys enjoy. I proofed read this myself so forgive any mistakes.

Pls leave some likes, comments and reblogs <3

British Columbia, Canada

John dropped his bags down on the bedroom floor, letting the tension on his shoulders go, the day had been too long for him, been up since the crack of dawn and haven't stopped moving the walls were white, the floors were a tan carpet, a desk was against the wall and the bed sat across from it, the bedding was sky blue, it reminded him of summer in England, spending the days down at the river. He undid the buttons on his military jacket and threw it on the back of the desk chair. John sat down at the end of the bed and pulled his rucksack onto the bed to pull out his files and paperwork, going through the paper, trying to find that damn report to fill out.

John was staying at his Captain Oscar Powell’s sister; Sheila's place, while in between operations, giving him a warm bed and home-cooked meals, that's all he could ask for and he was very grateful. He got up from the bed and sat down at the desk flicking on the lamp, and spreading the paper in front of him, he knew he should go out and talk with the family, get to know them, but John was too tired even to think straight, socializing made him wanna crawl up in a ball and sleep, and the bed right behind him wasn't helping him with that desire. An hour or so goes by when John finishes the report and puts it with the rest of the finished work. He checks his watch, 16:05, he gets up and changes into sweats and a sweater, which his mother made for him before she passed, it still smelt like her house; cimminon (I literally don't know how to spell it, but I hope yall understand ToT) and fresh laundry. He missed the warmth of his mother's hugs and his little sister’s pestering. He kept their memories close to his heart and cherished them as hard as he could. A soft knock sounded on the door.

"Hey, dinner would be ready in an hour or so." Shelia says, "You’re welcome to join, I can also bring it up if you like?" He opened the door to talk face-to-face with her. Her face had delicate features, and wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, showing her age, she looked much like her brother, and the familiarity of her face was comforting. To John, the Captain was like a second father, he trusted that man with his life, he knew his Cap had his back and he makes sure he had his.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll come down.” His voice was hoarse; he cleared his throat and knew his captain wouldn’t be too fond of him not joining him and his family for dinner. She smiled, her eyes crinkling and lit up. He gave her a lop-sided smile back, it did not reach his eyes, he was too tired to care. “Ok, great,” she said and went back downstairs to the kitchen. John’s muscles were screaming as he went to go lay down on the bed, he tucked himself under the blankets and soon enough he fell into a slumber

John woke to his name being called and shot straight up, panicking. “Hey, dinner’s ready chap,” he heard his captain through the door. “Ok gimme a minute,” he took off his sweats and put on a pair of jeans, the most decent he could get, with it only a few pairs of jeans and a couple of black jumpers. Downstairs the Captain gestured to John to take the seat at the right-side seat at the end, John gratefully took the seat and fell into the conversation. He was asked questions and he happily replied. The food was something John was most excited about, it was hot, and it melted in his mouth, he sighed at the savory taste. He couldn’t compliment Shelia enough.

“This is so good,” John said after swallowing a mouthful and stuffing his mouth with more.

“Geez, slow down son, we’re not going back to base anytime soon,” Powell chuckled

“Sorry Sir, just trying to get as much in as possible, can’t stand those IMPs.”

Shelia smiled with pride and Powell shook his head.

“Oh, Emma is coming home next week,” Shelia says with excitement, her smile growing. John was curious who that was, guess he will find out next week. Dinner was done, helping wash up the dishes.

“Tell me more about yourself” Shelia turns to him with a smile. “I heard you’re good on the field, well the football field.”

John gave her a warm smile. “Yah, I grew up playing on my school’s team” he put a cup on the rack “Won a couple of trophies in middle school.”

That’s amazing,”

“Mhm”

He let out a breath, thinking back about his best friend from elementary. John finished putting the dishes in the rack, wiping down the countertops, and bid Shelia a good night. When he entered his room, he immediately took off all his clothing except his boxers and crawled into bed, and soon sleep consumed him.

***

The following day John woke a wee bit panicked, still thinking he was at the base and had early mornings. He checked his watch; 09:23 am, that was the latest he had slept in a while, since his last leave, which was 8 ½ months ago. John crawled out of the covers and sat at the edge of the bed, contemplating if he wanted to go back to sleep or go on a run. He chose the latter, he figured that he should at least keep a basic schedule. He got up and put on his shorts and black compression shirt. After putting on a pair of runners, he ran off the road, pushing to see how far he could go. 30 mins had passed, 2 klicks in, he knows that he can go for another few, like a switch John picked his pace up. Around 5 Ish klicks, he turned around and headed back.

When he arrived, John was drenched in sweat, his shirt sticking to his chest and back. He quickly made his way upstairs, grabbing his shower supplies, he bought a new set of shampoo and conditioner, knowing his little sister would troll and harass him for using a 2-in-1. John turned on the water, gave it a min, and then stepped in, the cool water felt amazing on his sweaty back. Soaking his hair and running his hands in it. He followed the shampooing and conditioning steps, his sister instructed him to do. The shower was done 5 mins later, he had wrapped a towel around his hips, his v-line visible, John looked at himself in the mirror, and his auburn chest hair ran down into a trail past the towel. He flexed his pecs and shoulder muscles, his shoulders were broad, and his pecs were large, he could fit into one of his sister's bras, not that he was bragging. His thighs also were massive making it hard for him to sit in tight spaces. After checking himself out, he looked at his beard, its way past the 5 o’clock shadow and not quite a beard. He was upset that he had grey hairs in some places, screw his father's genes. John let a huff out and grabbed his razor and shaving cream, getting rid of the annoying grey specks. After finishing up, he cleaned up and went back to his room. Putting on a fresh pair of clothes and deodorant, John was ready.

Downstairs, Shelia was in the garden and Captain was out back doing yard work. Today was the day John learned about the house and yard. He put on a pair of Blundstones, and a navy blue pullover rain jacket. The weather outside was dull, and the smell of rain was strong in the air, it was April, the spring rain came during this month. He walked over to Shelia, he asked her if she needed help, eager to get his hands dirty.

“Oh Please, the bags of dirt from the lean-on by the shed, could you bring some bags,” she points to the west side of the gigantic house “It would save both Emma and I some trouble.” and John sets off, looking for the shed in the direction she had pointed. The property was huge, he remembers the captain saying around it being 26 acres or so. It was a heritage house, that had been in his family since the 1880s, the house was a massive Tudor house, with vines growing all over the east side of the building. The whole property was surrounded by forest, the whole place made John’s heart swell, the place somewhat reminded him of home or maybe he was homesick, but he missed the country of England, the smell of cow manure, and watching the sunrise on the porch with a cup of tea. After wandering around like a lost puppy, he found a shed with a lean-on, there was a wheel borrow tipped over on its side, and by the shed, he flipped it straight and started filling it up with the bags of garden soil. Once it was full, he started pushing it back over to the gardens, the trip back over was longer than expected, and he reached the garden Shelia was puttering at, emptying the wheel burrow. He stopped and let out a wheeze, the military training did not prepare him for that.

“Hope that wasn’t too hard,” Shelia remarks, seeing his out-of-breath state

“Oh no, didn’t even break a sweat.” He broke a sweat,

Shelia knew that was bullshit, but she also knew that the 23-year-old had that boyish ego that all boys seemed to have, no matter how old they are, John reminded her of her brother; Oscar, but younger, both pretty stubborn and had similar mindset.

The rest of the week, John spent his days helping in the garden, he also found out that They also had a stable on the other far side of the property, there were 4 horses and a draft, once he found that out, he spent hours in the stable, cleaning, brushing, feeding and what not in there. There was also a barn with multiple farm animals, chickens outnumbering them all. When he asked out them over dinner, He was told that they were Emma’s pride and joy, jokingly saying that they’re pretty much Shelia’s nieces and nephews. John couldn’t stop his curiosity about this Emma growing, he would never admit to his excitement.

When the following Monday rolled around, John got out of bed a little too eagerly. He put on his best shirt and the cologne his sister insisted on getting him, apparently “it makes the girls weak in the knees” He trusted her, he didn’t know diddly squat about this shit, or about girls for that matter. He hoped to make the best impression on her.

The flight home was long but worth it. Emma had been waiting to come home since the beginning of the school year in august last year. As soon as she got off the plane, she bee-lined for the luggage terminal, grabbed her stuff, and headed to the arrivals, looking for her aunt, it took some time to spot her, but once she did, she quickened her pace, desperate to get out of the place. She reached her aunt and pulled her into a big hug.

“It's so good to have you home finally,” Shelia squeezed her.

“I know, it's nice to finally get out of the city.”

“Well, we still gotta leave the city and get back to town,” Shelia says as she grabs one of the luggage. “Not quite a free bird yet.” Emma rolled her eyes, rushing to find the exit.

The car ride home was long, filling her aunt in about everything that happened at UofT (University of Toronto). Diving right into her Anthropology and Archeology classes, and what she did, she was beaming at the topic of going to an anthropology excavation site.

“We have a guest staying with us for a bit,” Shelia mentions “He’s one of your uncles men, a lieutenant I think?”

“Oh?”

“His name is John, I think you’ll like him.”

All Emma could think about was a man in his late 30s and balding. She just nods, not caring much. Her uncle had some of his men stay over before, this isn’t surprising to her.

When they finally arrived at the house, Emma couldn’t help but sigh in relief, she knew she was immediately going to go soak in a hot bubble bath. Pulling her bags out from the trunk of the SUV, she walks to the front door, she walks back to the car to grab the rest of the luggage, when she reaches for the duffle bag, a hand already beat her to it, it was not her aunts, it was too big and there were too many scars. She looked up to see who the hand belonged to, and she was taken aback, his face was young and handsome, his eyes reflected the sky, a bright blue, and his hair was short and sticking up and awry as if he was wearing a hat. He put his big hand out for her to shake it.

“Names John.” His voice was deep, husky, and British. When he shook her hand, the biceps under his black shirt flexed. This was not the man Emma was expecting, so young and so attractive. She told herself to get it together, no need to simp over a man you had just met.

“Emma”

He flashed a smile at her, it wrinkled his eyes, making them bright. She couldn’t help but return the smile “Your aunt said you needed help with the luggage?” he spoke in that voice again, she shook her head yes, “Please” was all she managed to squeak out. He grabbed the heavy stuff, Emma had to look away with a bashful look, knowing if she looked any longer, she’d start drooling.

Once everything was inside and, in her room, she figured she’d unpack tomorrow. Drawing a hot bath in her ensuite, she got out when the water got cold. She got out, dried off, and dressed, she went downstairs and into the kitchen, not realizing that she hadn’t eaten since before the plane ride. Scrounging around the fridge and pantry, looking for anything. After looking for 10 mins, she decided on KD (Mac and Cheese for u Yankee's out there) putting on a pot of water on the stove, and she went back upstairs to grab her book. She sat at the island and read while waiting for the water to boil.

As soon as her KD was done and plated, she pushed the doors to the den, and groaned at the sight of John passed out on the couch, mouth opened, snoring obnoxiously and with a book laid open on his chest. She turned to go back to the kitchen to eat, but no, this is her house, she just got home from a long 5-hour flight and it’s late, wanted to watch her reality shows, she sat down at the armchair, flicked on the TV and happily ate at her noodles.

John woke to a clatter, jolting up and knocking off the book that was lying on his lap. He looked up at Emma, she had her mouth full, and the TV was on, playing a trashy reality show. He rubbed his face with his palm, drowsy from sleep.

“Sorry did I wake you?” She looks at him with her round eyes, her hair wet from a shower. He stopped his mind from wandering to far from the subject, of this beautiful woman in the shower.

“No, no s’alright.” He yawns, gets up from the couch and picks up his book. He stood there awkwardly for a second, he checked his watch, 21:14, bedtime. He bid her a goodnight and went upstairs.

Chapter 2 here

#captain john price #john price #captain john price x you #captain john price angst #captain price x reader #captain price #slow burn #cod price #cod mw22 #cod x reader #lieutenant john price #task force 141 #captain john price imagine

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