#and after some crying and heart to heart after fighting for so long they decide that maybe they arnt responsible for the universe

[evanescencelovrr]

You have a tough week at work

hey yall—tough ass week here. i needed to write this cute fluffy moment with reader x simon x price ughhh. my poor heart is mush atp. enjoy!! pls like comment and reblog to share the love <3

notes: she/her pronouns used, lots of fluff & reader struggles for acceptance affection. Lovie, lovebug, love nicknames are used.

I think after a long week and shedding tears over a tub of ice cream—Simon & Price decide you’ve had enough.

First you come through the front door frowning, your usual scowl and eyes twitching from the lack of sleep. Your neck sags, shoulders hunching from the heavy bag and responsibilities weighing on you. You feel like you’re never enough.

Immediately Simon rounds the kitchen corner, not hesitating to take your shoulder bag off—lengthy fingers curling around the strap. You could see the warm lamps are lit, the fireplace on and going which never failed to make you feel at ease in tough times. The flames roared with life.

You trace your eyes to look up all puffy eyed and your nose red—most likely from just crying in frustration. You stiffen up for a moment at him seeing you like this, and faintly you could hear Price cooking in the kitchen. It smells of warm food.

“Lovie, give it up.” Simon said gently—much gentl(er) to you than he would with anyone. His brow was raised and he’s got that scolding look to him.

One that told you to bite down on any resistance.

So you did, too tired to fight and knowing it would be useless. You give the bag to him, and Simons’ hunky form maneuvers to the couch, where he placed it down. His mask if off, wearing sweatpants and a longsleeve knit you got him. His rugged features glow softly in the fire light, oranges and yellows lighting his irises.

Price then calls out from the kitchen, “Is the love bug back already from work?”

“Aye, I got er’.” Simon responds gruffly—turning around when he heard you groan.

There you were trying to take your shoes off, bent over and fingers sluggish working the laces. Damn thing wouldn’t undo itself. Tears sprung up in frustration, finding the simple task so demanding and exhausting. And it didn’t help every muscle protested in pain.

“Lovie—“ Simon closes the distance with his house slippers and holds up upright by your elbows.

“I-I can’t do it.” You say weakly, frowning. Apart of you feels like you needed to “adult,” better—but this week? This week was a mess.

You hear a clank from the kitchen.

“Lovie, come, none f’that, yea? Let’s get you sorted.” Simon briefly caresses your cheek with warm tender fingers, and you find yourself aching for more when he pulls away, round wide eyes gazing.

Simon doesn’t miss the look you gave him and knows. He knows what you need. He gently leads you to the couch, making you sit. He makes sure the pillows are fluffed and places one behind your back to support you, and occasionally hearing your sniffles.

“I’m sorry—“ You begin to say, voice shaky and on the verge of sobs. You felt guilty for making them care, but then again it was their job as well. They looked out for you, you looked out for them.

Simons heart aches as he hears you. The woman he knows who is determined, strong and wise is now hurting. Vulnerable, cracked open. He knows what this must feel like, since he did too at some point of his life.

It was a hard choice—sharing how you felt. And be found himself appreciative of how you let him take care of you tonight. He was determined to put your stressed soul at ease, doing whatever you asked for if you did.

So, his warm voice floated in, as deft fingers loosened your shoe laces, gentle warm eyes peering up at you from under his brows.

“Lovie, its a’right. A big man like me can untie y’er shoes, no?” Simon says lightly, lip lifting up slightly.

That earns him a swift grin from you despite the tears and your chest warms. You know Simon could do a lot more. It was so secret anymore who he was, his past, and Price as well. His large hands slide under your ankles, supporting it up into his lap.

Price then turns the stove off and you hear soft padding. Simon slips off your shoes and tosses them aside—his attention immediately back onto you. He could care less of the shoes. He wanted-needed to know if you were okay.

Price wiped his hands on the rag—his face falling when he saw you, his love bug all teary and crestfallen.

“Dove, let me make you a cup of tea.” Price said firmly, without question. He knows you must be a bundle of nerves and felt frazzled. A nice tea outta do it, he thought. Inside, he was worried.

He worked with ease at the kitchen, tall form hardly needing to stretch an arm up to open the cupboard. He already reached its height anyway.

Immediately he steeped a bag, a nice peppermint tea. In your cute little mug you always loved—the one with pink and white fluffy clouds, with golden stars painted and the moon. He found himself warming at the sight—you.

You were everywhere and he loved it. Little remnants.

He returned and Simon got up to sit next to you, a hand rubbing your back. He softened at the sight and crouched down in front your resting form. He saw the eye bags wearing you down, the redness of your eyes and how irritating the skin was from all the rubbing. Most likely wiping your tears off.

He could see the frown lines, the way your eyes had glossed over in exhaustion.

He felt even more concerned—maybe even livid at the way work had drained you. Nonetheless, his priority was you, not blowing up because of your work.

“Love bug, d’ya think you could sit up for me?” Prices’ warm voice said, one large hand holding your cute mug, the other resting on your knee.

You gently nudged your head in acknowledgement—which was resting on Simons shoulder. All warm and content.

You moved to sit up and uncurled your legs, warming at the sight of Price holding you mug.

Not just any mug.

And the tea you loved too.

Tears sprung up again and you grabbed at the mug, holding it.

“Lovie—“

“Love bug—“

They both said immediately at your tears.

“I’m okay…just overwhelmed by your support.” You managed a small smile, eyes flitting to meet both their concerned ones.

Simon had his brows furrowed, an arm slung back behind you. But now he moved to lean in, a hand touching your back again.

He nodded, meanwhile Price continued rubbing your knee in a comforting manner, thumb drawing circles now.

“Love, you have nothing to apologize for. We know its been hard for you lately.” Price said in a soothing low tone, brows raising. He lowered his head to get a look at you—although not staring holes into you.

He watched as you drank your tea, sighing in relief.

“I-It was.” You began, “I lost track of time and missed some deadlines at work. My Boss has been upset.” Your voice cracked as you explained, and the tears sprung up.

Both of them knew how late you were staying at work, and to hear your inconsiderate Boss only add fuel to the fire was maddening.

Simons’ chest puffed out, taking a breath in—and Prices’ eyes flashed momentarily, only to soften when he spoke to you.

“Just let it out lovie.” Simon said softly, a large hand brushing your hair aside as you cried. Tears dripped down and Simons calloused hand cupped your cheek, rubbing them away. Gently. He wasn’t used to this—but with you, it came so naturally.

There was this feeling in him you reached deepest. It only amplified in moments like this. He didn’t even know he was capable of being gentle still, yet you brought it out in him.

Price patted your leg softly, “Easy love. Let me get you some good food in that tummy. I made you your favorite.”

With that you look up at him as he arose, and Prices’ eyes crinkled underneath with his warm smile. His heart melted—a mixture of concern and care as your eyes were watery and half lidded. He reached a hand to cup your jaw, stroking the tender skin before gliding to the kitchen.

You sniffled and leaned into Simons arms, needing warmth and comfort. Immediately he accepted—no questions asked. He didn’t stiffen up the way he would when you first met him. He let you in completely, loving you the way you did to him when he was lost.

He knew you needed someone to lean on. Both physically and mentally.

“Love, we got this, aye? You jus’ let us do the big work. Don’ worry bout’ bein’ big. And doin’ the big things.” He would whisper soothingly into your hair, a large arm wrapping around your shaky form.

It curled around you so easily, and you closed your eyes, cheek nuzzling his chest. He softened even more, hand reaching up to wipe your face.

But before he did, he made sure to tilt your head up so he could get a good look to clean it.

“There she is.” Simon whispered, affectionately.

He heard Price shuffle back and you gave a soft smile—although weary.

The rest of the night was spent with Price feeding you, even if you complained about doing it.

Simon held you, your back to his chest while he figured he could learn to braid your hair. Halfway, as Price fed you a spoonful, perched onto the coffee table—Simon grumbled and spoke up.

“Lovie, you ave’ such nice hair—I don’t want to be an arsehole, but how in the hell do you manage it?”

Simon whipped the braid over your shoulder so you could see it. Price held the spoon up, cocking a brow at the braid—to which Simon glared.

What you saw had you laughing. It suddenly bubbled out—chest shaking and smile breaking out. Hair was sticking out, untucked properly in the braid. His tension was off so it looked like some braids were bigger than the other, and he fumbled with the hair tie which was slipping off.

“Lovie.” Simon whined roughly—although he couldn’t lie, seeing the lights on in your head again and the way you laughed—it had this man crumbling.

And Price—Price looked proud. Almost like: I knew we’d get her back. His smaller eyes were wide in joy, drinking in the way your shoulder scrunched and lips stretching.

“Simon—this is so sweet.” You say, sighing. God, laughter really was the best medicine, you thought.

And with that, Simons fingers began gently prodding your side to tickle you. You squirmed and hands scrambled to hold his broad shoulders—once again laughter pouring out like bubbles.

Price grinned, a lip quirking up, as he set the bowl aside, “I’m tryin’ to feed her.” But he was enjoying this well enough—

“Oh come on old man, you like this.” Simon teased, his voice slightly shaky as he tickled your squirming form.

He wasn’t wrong.

“Okay! Okay!” You stated, panting, and face red. You were still smiling, leaning to the side and holding up your hands with the widest grin at Simon.

“Good, lovie?” Simon asked.

“Good.” You repeated.

——

Lets just say, HR received multiple complaints from “two” anonymous sources who relentlessly called over and over.

It piled up until both got what they wanted—your Boss suspended for verbal harassment and having employees work overtime.

When you heard the news—you were glad and relieved. Didn’t need to deal with him ever again, you thought.

As you hummed and blasted your music in your headphones, tucked away in your room for the night, both Simon and Price grinned at each other.

[fishybehavior]

I have ideas that are stuck in my head

[taeyongdoyoung]

chase and attract

summary: your best friend decides to fulfil yet another one of your freaky shared fantasies... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: cnc/primal play, chasing in a forest, public indecency but there are no witnesses, fingering, finger-sucking, doggystyle, unprotected sex, praise, degradation, reader wants to use the safeword but doesn't, reader experiences subdrop, insecurities, crying, aftercare, pet names, the word daddy is mentioned but after they're done having sex, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: hello hello, this is the second part of my wolf & bunny series, i think i'll write one more to tie up the loose ends 🤍 part one & part three word count: 1.7k

After a number of discussions and precautions, you and Chan are finally ready to embark on your next sexscapade. He's reassured you multiple times that he knows the forest well enough that you won't get lost and as a safety measure, he brought a compass and his phone. You purposefully leave yours in his car to further heighten the feeling of danger you two had in mind.

“Are you ready?” Chan asks you gently.

“Kinda. I'm really nervous, Chris,” you confess, your hands shaking in your lap as you are still sitting in the passenger seat.

“Remember that you can stop this at any moment, right?” he reminds you sweetly.

“I know that,” you sigh. “But I want this, I really do.”

“Okay, then, there's nothing to be nervous about. You know I'll keep you safe. Always, yeah?”

You nod, trusting him completely, despite how insane this whole thing might sound to a stranger. You are fully aware that Chan has your best interest at heart.

“I'll give you a five-minute headstart this time,” he sets the timer on his phone. “Ready, set...go!”

You dash out of his car faster than ever and speed through the forest. You've got this. Last time your stupid legs gave out due to being in a box for too long but now you've trained for this moment for a week and you feel confident enough that you'll have a blast. Sure, you know that the point of this game is for Chan to eventually catch you. And boy, do you look forward to that moment. But the more you run, the more your heart will jump out, the more thrilled you feel.

You begin to lose track of time as you go deeper and deeper into the forest. Have five minutes already passed? You don't hear Chan's footsteps so either he hasn't started chasing you yet or he's going in another direction. Whatever the explanation, you keep running even though you're beginning to lose your breath. How much longer? You still don't hear him and you are in desperate need of a break. You should have brought a bottle of water. But carrying something like that would only slow you down. You're thinking too much again. You just want him to catch you already and fuck you until you can no longer think. Truly the best feeling in the world.

Finally, you hear leaves rustling. You don't hear his voice but you know he's getting near. Shit, what if it's someone else? No, that can't be it. Chan made sure that people rarely walk this path and it would only be the two of you. Still, you're terrified at the thought of someone other than Chan catching you. The mere suggestion of that is enough to send speed to your muscles and make you faster.

But all good things must come to an end (or maybe the good things are just about to begin...) and you are engulfed by a pair of strong arms. Before you can react or try to fight your attacker off, he's pressing his hand against your mouth.

“Shhh, don't scream,” Chan's voice is both a comfort and a threat, sending mixed signals to your core.

“Mmpf,” you struggle to make some kind of noise but it comes out muffled against his rough hand.

“This will all be easier if you don’t fight it,” Chan says soothingly and you shake your head in disagreement.

He momentarily removes his hand from your lip.

“Please, somebody help me!” you scream loud enough to paint the scene more vividly but not loud enough to actually attract attention in case a stranger passes by some forest. Which honestly seems impossible at this point. Chan really picked a very secluded trail.

“No one’s gonna hear you, sweetheart. And even if they did, do you think they’d help you? Silly little bun, you brought this on yourself walking in the forest all alone, wearing this dress…”

Fuck, why is he so good at this? You try not to wonder if he’s had prior experience with such a scenario or he simply just has great imagination to come up with such lines.

“Please, don’t do this,” you pretend to be afraid as your best friend pushes you on your knees and situates himself behind you. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Why not? I’ll fuck you so good you’ll want to brag about it,” Chan chuckles coldly and sticks his thick fingers inside your pussy unexpectedly.

“Nnghh,” you cry out and are beginning to lose energy of all the running and no longer feel like faking it, letting out moans and whimpers of pleasure.

“See? You’re all wet for me, so obviously you’re enjoying it,” Chan gathers the evidence of your satisfaction with his fingers and pushes them into your mouth.

You don’t need an order to know what to do as you lick them clean of your arousal.

“Fuuuck, good girl,” Chan praises you and briefly breaks character, stroking your hair gently.

Oh, shit. You think you’re falling for your best friend. But such thoughts will only bring complications, especially in the current context, so you push them down as much as you can.

Chan makes sure you’re wet enough by mercilessly stroking your pussy and finally, fuck, sweet finally, enters you from behind with his cock.

“N-no, d-don’t do this,” you scream and try to escape his strong grasp but of course, it’s no use.

“Such a useless slut, only good for fucking and nothing more.”

The degrading words sting but you’re trying not to dwell on it too much.

“So fucking wet for a stranger. Disgusting,” he says.

Fuck, this hurts. Not the cock stretching you out to the fullest but what he’s saying. Is it really true?

You want to say the safeword. But you also don’t. By the time you make up your mind, Chan has already painted your walls white and you are also coming with a shudder, loudly and devastatingly.

You feel broken. Bad broken. You want to go home and cry and sleep and eat ice cream. What went wrong? You were having such a great time. So why are you suddenly having such dark thoughts? And not dark in the sexy way…

Chan picks you up gently and checks up on you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, I just want to go home,” you respond briefly.

He nods, quietly wondering if he did something wrong or if he’s just imagining the sad, empty look in your pretty eyes.

Chan helps you walk back to his car and makes sure you drink water and cleans you up to the best of his abilities with some tissues he prepared in advance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again as he parks the car in front of you place. “You haven’t said a word during the whole ride. Usually you have funny stories to share and…”

“Gee, sorry for not always being the class clown, I guess,” you snap at him angrily with an eyeroll.

“Okay, don’t give me that attitude,” Chan scolds you gently but firmly. “If we want to do this healthily, you gotta communicate with me. If I did something wrong or if you felt uncomfortable at any point.”

You shake your head, still in denial.

“If you don’t wanna talk, I won’t force you. But you gotta remember that you mean the world to me, yeah? Even if these games end, I need to have my best friend in my life, am I clear?”

You blink and finally gather the courage to look at him.

“I’m sorry, Chris,” you admit and burst into tears.

He pulls you into a hug and pats your back.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Well, the truth is I wasn’t all that into it when you said that thing about me being useless, only good for fucking and disgusting,” you confess.

“Oh, babygirl, you know I don’t mean these things. I only said them ‘cause you mentioned you’re into degradation.”

“I was, I mean, I am, but for some reason, it really hurt me this time, sorry. I should have said. I just don’t want you to think poorly of me.”

“Alright, first of all, stop saying sorry, it’s completely normal to get caught up in it and feel insecure sometimes. As a dom, I should have been more careful and checked up on you more frequently. And second of all, please, remember that you are very smart, sweet, funny and not to mention incredibly beautiful so there is no way in hell I think lowly of you. Now, did you put that down in your pretty brain of yours?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer enthusiastically and your tears have dried up, instead a bright smile appears on your face. “Thanks for saying that. I guess I really needed to hear it.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Just next time if you happen feel like that, say the safeword and talk to me. About anything, I mean it.”

“You too, Chris. I know that’s particularly hard for you to open up but whatever you tell me, I would never judge you.”

“I know, babygirl,” Chan chuckles softly and does something that further confuses the already blurred lines of your friendship. He kisses you on the lips, deeply and sweetly. Not like how you kiss your best friend but how you kiss a lover.

“Do you want…to come inside?” you offer, not knowing what exactly, considering you just ended a very overwhelming scene.

Actually, you know what you want. You want him to hold you, to watch a dumb movie and eat popcorn together. You want…more than you can have.

“I gotta get some work done,” Chan says with a wince. “I’m really behind on stuff.”

“Is it…my fault?”

“No way. I just can’t stop thinking of…our games even when I’m supposed to be working,” he admits.

Phew. You’re glad he didn’t say he can’t stop thinking of you. If he had, you wouldn’t be able to let him go to work.

“Right. Same here,” you reply dumbly.

“If you need anything and I mean, anything, just give me a call or a text. I’ll keep my phone nearby.”

“You really shouldn’t, I’ll keep annoying you,” you mumble self-consciously.

Chan grips your hand and squeezes it comfortingly.

“You could never annoy me, okay?”

“Okay, daddy,” you say it playfully, eliciting a giggle out of his beautiful mouth.

“Do you have any particular wishes for…you know, next time?”

“I do, but it’s kinda mild compared to what we’ve done already,” you shrug. “Dunno if you’d be into it.”

“Name it and it’s yours,” Chan assures you.

“How do you feel about…fucking me while I’m asleep?”

To be continued…

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki’s masterlist ♡ !

lil blurbs ! ( i'm just talkin'):

katsuki likes to make you laugh

katsuki's love language

katsuki is so dramatic

katsuki likes to bite you

childhood bodyguard! katsuki

katsuki x popstar! reader

katsuki is fun to mess with

katsuki really likes the way you smell

hockey player! bakugou

sleepy kisses w katsuki

katsuki and compliments

katsuki doesn't give a fuck

goodnight kiss (or the one where katsuki isn’t good at asking for, well…anything.)

suck up katsuki

could've fooled me ( or the one where you peel your orange yourself and katsuki is not happy)

katsuki and your naps (or the one where katsuki hates kaminari)

katsuki is a big baby

katsuki and (non sexual) hickies ! more !

no good thief ! (or the one where katsuki finds out who’s been stealing his clothes)

sleeping on the couch

katsuki and petnames…kinda

katsuki in a suit

katsuki is dramatic again (or the one where katsuki isn’t worried..really.)

katsuki and ice cream

katsuki and changing

katsuki doesn't give a fuck, again !

your almost boyfriend katsuki

baby suki

lil fics ! ( i ramble a little longer) :

katsuki is in trouble

katsuki's extra clingy when he's sleepy

from the start (or the one where you've been katsuki's for as long as you can remember)

you are not the father ! (or watching the maury show with katsuki)

katsuki hates seeing you cry

unchanged apologies (or the one where katsuki's childhood habits remains the same)

fire-breathing roommate chronicles (or living w dragon bkg)

baking cookies with katsuki

can't love anyone more than you

katsuki can't say no to you (not that he wants to) (or the one where katsuki takes care of you after you get drunk) part two !

déjà vu : a french term that translates to "already seen." It is a phenomenon where an individual feels a strong sense of familiarity or recognition with a current situation.( or the one where katsuki thinks about you) bnha manga spoilers !!

the bet (or the one where your classmates make a bet.)

this night has opened my eyes (or the one where katsuki cleans up your injuries)

valentine's day troubles (or the one where katsuki's friends help him out for valentines day )

boyfriend for sale ! (or the one where your boyfriend forgets to ask you to be his valentine) feat. shoto todoroki !

ewww, katsu's got cooties ! (or the one where katsuki is too cool for cooties)

two of hearts (or the one where katsuki wakes up) bnha manga spoilers !!

31 days (or the one where katsuki surprises you)

habits (or little habits katsuki's developed ever since he's met you) slight bnha manga spoilers !!

while i search for the way to your world, leave a mark on your way (or the one where katsuki has his first real fight with you)

jealous, jealous, jealous girl ! (or the one where your boyfriend gets too much attention)

half return (or the one where katsuki decides to go home for the weekend and brings you with him) bnha manga spoilers !!

longer fics / mini series ! ( get comfy 'cuz this one's a multi-parter !) :

♡ fire-breathing roommate chronicles !♡ when an injured, mysterious, and incredibly handsome dragon man blasts through the wall of your apartment, you decide to let him stay with you until he's fully healed. despite the struggles of co-habitating with a mythical beast, his mysterious past and annoyingly sharp tongue, you find you can't help feeling drawn to him..

♡ fire-breathing boyfriend chronicles ! ♡ some short ‘n sweet little extra’s following the events of fbrc starring our favorite now dragon boyfriend bakugou !

ring pop proposal ♡ 1 2 3 ♡ the three times where mitsuki realizes that her katsuki is in love with you (and she realizes you love him back)

♡ ring pops, chocolates proposals ! ♡ katsuki loves you throughout the years.

an explosive birthday (collab event for the days leading up to katsuki's birthday !) see masterlist

shadows of affection : orphaned at a young age, katsuki knows nothing but endless violence and the feeling of his bruised and bloody knuckles. until he gets taken in by a mob boss and is tasked to become his daughter's bodyguard..

and then some more ! ( extra's !)

the morning after : katsuki confronts you about what you told him the night you got drunk

♡ fire-breathing boyfriend chronicles ! ♡ some short ‘n sweet little extra’s following the events of fbrc starring our favorite now dragon boyfriend bakugou !

♡ ring pops, chocolates proposals ! ♡ katsuki loves you throughout the years.

[thef1diary]

Kiss My Wounds | L. Hamilton

Request: Makeup or jealousy sex // Lewis comes home to her, because he had a really bad fight in the club (because of her, as some of his friends said something nasty about her) and even though they are not together, because they broke up..you know what happens next

Summary: read the request

Warnings: 18+ smut, angst, getting back together, protected sex (for the first time ever?!?!) riding, porn with plot (lots of plot)

Pairing: lewis x fem!ex!reader

wc: 2.9k

You were sitting on the couch with your head tilted back and your palm resting over your drooping eyes. So close to dozing off when your phone buzzed.

Startled by the vibration against your skin—as you had left your phone on your stomach—you picked it up and saw a text from him.

I'm here

Simple and to the point, because you two didn't text each other as often anymore. You were tempted to scroll and read through the conversations you shared when you two were still together, but you didn't want to break your own heart all over again.

You sighed and decided to get through this before you were able to think about everything that could go wrong.

Lewis was here to pick up a package that was accidentally delivered to your address instead of his.

When you texted him about it and asked when he would be available so you could drop it off, he suggested that he will come pick it up instead. Then, he was busy with races, so he never came around until now.

You opened the door, watching as he quickly pocketed his hands before looking at you. He wore an oversized jacket similar to his Mercedes one. The hood was covering most of his face and on top of that, it had a higher neckline that he raised further to cover his mouth.

You weren't new to this look, it was a habit of his to disguise himself so he wouldn't be recognized on the street.

However, it hurt knowing that he disguised himself because he was on the way to your place. That he didn't want to be recognized while coming up here.

Opening the door wider, you allowed him inside, letting him notice all the changes you made to the apartment in the last two months. There weren't any drastic differences, except for the fact that his touch was gone.

The small decorations he helped you choose when you first moved in were gone. He didn't utter a word, silently walking in and standing there, pretending like he didn't know every inch of the apartment.

You didn't wait for him to say anything, instead you went to the guest room to pick up the package so this could be over soon.

Having Lewis in your apartment again, in fact even seeing him again after breaking up, wasn't something you could've been prepared for. Not so soon.

The package is heavy, you remembered as you picked it up, almost tripping over due to the weight. That's why the doorman helped you bring it up when it first arrived.

Now, you wished you had asked if you could leave the package downstairs so Lewis wouldn't even have had to come up.

As you walked back in the main room, struggling with every step since your view was obstructed due to the size of the box, it was lifted away from your hands. Fingers grazed your own, and you let Lewis take the weight of the package since he was easily able to place it near the door.

He looked at the sealed box then at you, "you didn't open it?" You wanted to laugh at his question, out of all the ways he could behave, he wanted to keep it casual. It was so easy for him and realizing that, if you didn't laugh, you'd cry.

"It's not my business," anymore. You added in your mind but the implication was heard loud and clear.

He didn't say a word, but his eyes expressed the emotion you never wanted to see, hurt. "You know you don't have to keep that on while you're inside," you lifted your hand and gestured to his hood.

You didn't want him to stay long, but god did you want to see his face again. However, once your hand was raised, you noticed something on it that wasn't there before; blood.

When Lewis' hand grazed against yours earlier, he also accidentally smeared his blood on your skin. "Lewis?" You breathed his name as you looked at him, but his gaze was stuck on your hand.

There wasn't a lot, but you were still concerned as to why he was bleeding, and if not his, then whose blood was it?

He pocketed his hands again, and now you realize why he's so covered up. Forgetting about everything else, you rushed towards him, only stopping inches away.

Although hesitant but choosing not to ask, you removed his hood and pulled down the neckline to reveal his face. You gasped once you saw his busted lip, and there were surely some bruises beginning to form.

"What the fuck happened to you?" You asked, but he just shrugged. "Training accident, you know how those go."

You wanted to shake your head, to say that you didn't know. Not once has he ever come home injured because of training while you were together. Lewis looked at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

He knew that you knew he was lying, but he was so desperate to hear your voice, even if it was arguing with him. He was that desperate.

"Training?" You asked, and if it weren't for the worry that threatened to overtake you, you would've been amused at his attempt to lie.

"Can I see?" You gestured to his pocketed hands, and he nodded, removing them and wincing a bit when the wounds grazed over the fabric.

He held his hands out, letting you see his busted fists, both lightly covered in drying blood. "Fucking hell, Lew," you muttered, using his nickname which was so familiar to you that it still easily rolled off your tongue.

"You gotta clean this up," you spoke, looking at this hands then moving your gaze to his face, "all of it."

You dropped his hands and pushed him back, urging him to sit on the couch. "Wait here," you left the room before he could utter a word. Truthfully, he was just stunned into silence by your actions.

A few moments later, you walked back in the room, holding a first aid kit in your hands. Setting it down on the free space beside him, you took out a disinfectant with a cotton ball.

In a rush to clean up his wounds, you straddled him without hesitation. Lewis sighed, possibly in relief, but you didn't see it.

Holding one of his hands in yours, you lightly dabbed the soaked cotton ball on the drying blood. "Fuck," he hissed, and you muttered an apology.

Lewis' gaze was stuck on your face, watching as your brows knitted together in worry as well as the way you lightly bit your lip, completely focused.

After cleaning up both of his hands, you moved onto his face, and your eyes widened slightly when you realized he was already looking at you.

His intense gaze reminded you of the moments when you were together, how he looked at you when he was undoubtedly in love with you. "Lewis," you muttered.

He hummed in response and it almost pained you to say the next words, "close your eyes, please."

Shaking his head, "no." His response surprised you, but the words he said after left you speechless, "I want to look at you." He spoke so quietly that if you weren't looking at him, you probably wouldn't have known he had spoken.

Knowing that he wouldn't listen, you continued your task, taking a new cotton ball to dab on his lips.

You truly have no idea why you were doing this for him, perhaps it was because a part of you still cared. But, maybe you shouldn't have.

He made the simple task so much harder as soon as he parted his lips. Sure, it was in an attempt to help you, but your mind was flooded with many thoughts, and none of them could be said out loud.

"Do you want to tell me what actually happened?" You asked to get rid of the unholy thoughts brewing.

Since you were no longer holding his hands, Lewis rested them on your thighs as if it was a natural instinct. It was, once upon a time, but you thought he would've moved on from it by now.

You didn't comment on it and neither did he, instead he chose to finally tell you the truth. "I got into a fight," he said with a shrug.

"That seems obvious, but why?" You pressed on the matter further, and because he took a moment too long to answer, you increased the pressure on the cotton ball.

The pressure forced a hiss out of his mouth, and when his eyes connected with yours, he knew you did it on purpose.

A smile threatened to break out on his face, mainly because while everything changed between you two, it was still the same.

Then, realizing that you were still waiting for an answer, his face concealed the smile well. "Some of my friends started saying shit about you," he didn't want to go in the detail of what was said.

"And your first thought was to punch them?" You asked, almost amused but also worried because he wasn't ever violent.

"The second thought. You know I don't like people judging our relationship, doesn't matter if it's coming from my friends or not," Lewis explained.

"Lewis, we're not together anymore, so you have no reason to get into fights because of me." Lewis didn't like those words, so he shook his head.

You threw the cotton ball to the side once you were done, and finally, finally, noticed the position you were in.

He noticed the exact moment you realized, and tightened his grip on your thighs once you attempted to move away.

"You still care about me," he states like it was a fact but little did he know you were still undeniably in love with him.

"I would care about anyone that is hurt, you're not that special," you respond, trying to gain the upper hand. You relaxed in his grasp as one of his hands moved up and down your back in a soothing motion.

"Is that so?" He leaned back with his lips turning up in a lazy smirk, and that's when you knew that you'd lose this little back and forth battle.

You nodded, choosing not to say anything out loud. Lewis tugged you closer, bodies touching and lips only inches away.

Before anything could go further, even though you desperately wanted to kiss him, you had an important question. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" You wanted to ensure that you wouldn't increase his injuries.

He chuckled, "why don't you check?" The implications behind his words was clear. Your fingers found the zipper of his jacket, unzipping it at a teasingly slow speed.

He shrugged the jacket off and your fingers inched underneath his shirt, but this time Lewis couldn't wait. "Stop teasing, darling."

You removed his shirt and fortunately, there weren't any bruises forming. You traced his tattoos with your finger, following the ridges of his abs before stopped right above the waistband of his jeans.

"Hm, I don't think you need me anymore, you don't have any other cuts to clean," you stated, knowing that it wasn't the reason why Lewis wanted you to take off his shirt. But then again, you almost wanted him to beg.

His hands returned to your hips, and this time he tugged you oh so close, where you were able to feel the bulge of his erection through his jeans. "I think you and I both know how much I need you."

One of your hands rested on the nape of his neck, while the other was on his cheek. "Maybe you should show me," you suggested before pressing your lips against his.

Lewis bucked his hips up as soon as you let him deepen the kiss, which made you let out a sigh, swallowed by him.

His hands inched up your shirt, and you allowed him to take it off. Lewis tilted his head back with his eyes closed as soon as he got a small peak of your bare chest again. "Fuck," he groaned.

Then, his lips trailed kisses down your neck towards your tits, tongue circling your nipple before he engulfed it in his warm, wet mouth.

You tilted your head back in pleasure, allowing Lewis to rest his hand on your throat. He didn't restrict any airflow, but he just liked the way his tattooed hand looked resting on your throat.

"Fuck me," you muttered and Lewis was quick to capture your filthy mouth with his, stealing your breath from you.

His other hand dipped underneath your jeans, palming your ass but his gaze connected with yours. "Can I?" He asked, like he always did.

You nodded and leaned up, resting on your knees because you didn't want to slip off his lap. Lewis quickly unbuttoned your pants before sliding them off as much as he could.

You helped him remove the rest before straddling him again, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan at feeling you envelope his lap.

His hands roamed everywhere, as he had missed feeling your skin underneath his palms. "I think I might lose my mind if you don't ride me soon," he gritted out once you began grinding down on him.

You chuckled, stealing a kiss from him as your hands worked to unbutton his jeans. He managed to slip them off in record time, eager to be inside you.

Once you freed his cock from his boxers, he sighed in relief before his abs tensed as your hand moved up and down his length.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, even though you two stopped using one when you were together. But you had to ask because it had been two months since you broke up and had no idea what Lewis did in that time.

"In my jeans," he answered, and you grabbed his pants that were discarded on the floor earlier. "I don't know if I should be impressed or disgusted," you stated with a teasing smile on your face, revealing that you weren't disgusted at all.

"Definitely impressed." His smirk was back, but it faltered as his lips parted once you rolled on the condom. "I don't know, it seems like you planned it."

"Maybe," he revealed with a grin on his face. But then, he turned serious before muttering the next words, "for the record, I haven't been with anyone else after you."

His words warmed your heart, "me neither." You were glad that you weren't the only one holding back.

You tugged your panties to the side, thinking that it would take too long to properly remove them, before you sunk down on Lewis's cock.

The two months apart almost made you forget how much he stretches you out, able to feel every ridge and bump a lot more this time

You stilled once every inch of him was inside you, breathing out slowly to get used to his size. He didn't rush you, enjoying the warmth he dearly missed. He was actually glad you stilled, or else it would've ended embarrassingly fast on his end.

His hand rounded to your front, fingers toying with your clit. You dropped your head on his shoulder once you started moving, gasping at the added pleasure of Lewis circling your clit.

His other hand remained on your ass, aiding your movements up and down, slowly picking up the speed until you were a moaning mess. He wasn't any better, choosing to be completely vocal.

"I don't think I'm going to last long," Lewis muttered, warning you but you agreed with him, "me too, fuck, you feel so good."

You pressed your lips against his again with the need to kiss him while your hands rested on his shoulders. Though, it ended up in sloppy kisses with little breaks in between because of gasps and moans you couldn't contain.

It didn't last long enough, both of you spilling over the edge without needing much stimulation but still not completely satisfied just yet. You slowed down before fully stopping.

"I missed you," Lewis stated, and you agreed, "I missed you too."

You eased off his cock, allowing him to get rid of the condom. Sitting side by side, his hand found yours and easily threaded his fingers between yours.

Lewis tilted your face towards him, "I still love you, I don't think I've regretted anything more than letting you walk out of my life."

You had a sad smile on your face, "we all make mistakes, some are more costly than others."

"Do you still?" He didn't have the heart to finish the question, maybe because he was still scared of the answer.

Your palm rested on his cheek, "I don't think I ever stopped loving you, Lew."

A genuine smile crept up on his face, "good," he pulled you back on to his lap, "because we have two months worth of sex to catch up on."

You chucked at his words, but didn't deny it. You were about to kiss him but he leaned away, realizing something. "Hold on, I can't believe you threw out all my stuff,"

Once again you let out a laugh, "I didn't have the heart to throw it out, it's sitting in the guest room in boxes. Now are you going to fuck me or not?"

He didn't give you an answer, instead he lifted you and began walking towards your bedroom.

[tteokdoroki]

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. the damage is done.

about. when satoru decides that he wants you (his ex) back, his foolproof plan starts off by making your new partner extremely insecure..

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, non canon, toxic relationships, love bombing, exes to lovers, gaslighting, infidelity, cheating, breeding, fingering, multiple orgasms, couch sex, oral sex ( f! receiving ), unprotected sex, ex boyfriend!gojo, fem!reader.

ex!gojo who slides into the dms of your current partner to slowly make them insecure.

he acts like a nice guy, offers advice on what to do when you’re mad, what you like to eat, how to keep you all sedated and happy. your current partner starts to gush about how cool of a dude satoru gojo is. how could you pass up on such an amazing guy? he’s rich, funny, caring — they can see how you fell for him.

but what they don’t understand is the greedy side of satoru — the one who one who wanted you all to himself. the guy who never let you go out, who made you cry but made you cum with the promise of never hurting your feelings again.

sometimes the advice gets a little too specific. how does satoru know where you keep your sex toys for kinky nights of fun. why does he know the spot that makes you arch your back off of the sweaty sheets just like that? or how many fingers you like to take? or how long it takes before you start gagging on cock.

it makes your new partner insecure, gives them performance anxiety and ruins the vibes of your bedroom. they can’t communicate with you, at least not properly — it leads to fights that are all too familiar. conversations you’ve had with satoru before. your little insecurities and biggest fears are thrown into your face, things they know will hurt you deep down you. these are some of the first times you cry because of your new partner.

it’s all too familiar, these are things you’ve gone through before with your ex — the recognisable twinge in your chest and feeling of guilt after being gaslight is something you know all too well.

“he was right, you really are just a cry baby.” they say. “since he knows so much about you, maybe you should go back to fucking him.” which feels like a bullet to your heart because you’ve spent so much time proving to your partner that you’re over your ex and all the bullshit that satoru put you through. all the drama and all the trauma he left you with.

your partner leaves for the night, leaving you alone with your tears and the tiny voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s all satoru’s fault. it goads you into calling him, his number which you blocked but kept written down in your notes app in case of emergency. it’s been forever since you last spoke to your ex and told him you wanted nothing to do with him — so you’re surprised when he picks up on the second ring, seemingly happy to hear your voice.

“what did you do, satoru?” his name on your tongue is foreign yet also familiar. you’ve said it a million times before, in many different ways (lust, love and loss) but this time you’re angry. like the last time you spoke.

“what do you mean?”

he plays coy and you feel your temper bubble. “we got into a fight, i know it’s your fault. what did you say to them?”

“shouldn’t you be making up with them?” gojo answers your question with a question, his all-knowing smirk transcending down the static on the line. “why was your first thought to call me?”

that makes you falter, stops your typhoon of rage in its place.

the truth is, you know why you called. deep down you know that gojo could fix this, when you fought as a couple you would always call him first and in tears — letting him calm you down. gaslighting you in the process. he always knew what to say to scab over the wounds of your arguments, patching over deep cuts with little white lies even if he would reopen them and leave mental scars in place.

when you fight with your partner now, you seek the same sort of unhealthy comfort in the only person who you know will give it you and that’s exactly what satoru wants.

“let me come over,” he states, suave. “let me help you fix this.” he takes advantage of your emotional torment, butters you up with the promise of comforting you and against your better judgement — you let him. your partner abandoned you, satoru wants to help you. you’ve always known that he still loved you, at least he wouldn’t leave, at least he’s not like your partner.

regret will come in the morning, you think, when you let satoru into your apartment and back into your life. he knows that everything on the walls are different, the picture frames are now brown instead of white and hold photos of your current life in place of what you had with your ex. the furniture has moved and the diffuser at the entryway smells different. but as much as you’ve tried, you can’t get rid of your ex, satoru gojo. he will always make his way back to you.

he makes sure that you’re aware of this when he kisses you on the couch that you kept from your previous relationship. satoru tells you that you’ll always need him when he pins your hips to its leather with a strong arm and buries his white head of hair between your warm, thick thighs. he proves it to you with the way that his tongue licks broad strokes against the entire length of your sex and flicks at your clit because he knows that how you like you it, he knows you’ll cum in seconds if he eats you out like that.

there’s going to be a stain in the couch from just how much more you gush on satoru’s skilled fingers and tongue, as he moans against your sopping mound and tells you how he’s the only one who could ever make you see stars this way. his face gleams with your arousal and his eyes sparkle knowingly because it’s true. you’ve never felt as good as you have with satoru in comparison to anyone else. it puts doubt in your mind, makes you question why you even left him in the first place.

though, you don’t have much time to dwell on the thought…because in hurried yet precise movements — gojo is making you cum on his fingers again. the rough pad of his thumb possessively writes the letters of his name against your pulsating clit — hardened by blood that rushes to it, carrying lustful hormones from your frenzied mind. he loves how you taste when you cum, how you cling to him, how he knows that you’ll never forget this phenomenalfeeling after tonight.

it’s a little too intimate for two exes when satoru makes you ride him. his legs spread wide while you straddle his lap, creating the perfect angle for his cock to nudge against that one special pleasure spot inside of you. you’ve missed his cock, it’s perfect length and thickness — it’s pretty pink tip that oozes so much precum that’s all for you. it’s only ever been for you.

the way satoru’s large palms cup the globes of your ass and guide you back and forth over his lap unlocks a nostalgic and loving feeling in your rapidly rising and falling chest. he kisses you with so much passion that you’re reminded of the good nights you spent with him — making love until sunrise while his tongue rolls over yours and licks at your teeth. you’re naked and chest to chest, noses becoming neighbours while the course of your breathing syncs up. it’s overwhelming, how adored you feel in the moment, all while fucking your ex on the couch.

you grope at each other like it’ll be the final time you ever have sex like this. your hands settle at the base of satoru’s neck and his on your waist while you languidly move together in a salacious dance routine you’ve done so many times before. you’re perfect partners, it’s evident in the way you reward his throbbing cock with dribbles of your creamy arousal — droplets of soft white running down and catching on veins on his shaft.

“i’m always going to love you, baby,” satoru’s soft laments echo through the home you’ve made with your over lover — barely audible over his balls slapping against your peachy ass and your cunt selfishly squeezing down on him, squelching with every thrust. “i’m always gonna want you like this, even when we fuck up. e-even when we’re not together,” he growls and rambles, blissful blue eyes darting all over your face twisted with ecstasy and right down to where you paint him with arousal and suck him in so well. “fuuuck, i wanna cum…s-say you want it, say you want me.”

it’s overwhelming, how much love you have for satoru. for your ex. it washes over your feelings of guilt in regard to your infidelity, any bad emotion or thought of your partner cannot compare to the burning and bright lust that flickers in your tummy. when you fuck yourself down on gojo’s throbbing girth he pulls back out of your snug, salacious sex — creating a delicious cycle of friction that you never want to forget. that you miss so bad.

“i want…i want you!” you stutter, tears brewing in your starry eyes. “i miss you, i love you,” the words rush out of you before your hazy mind can even catch up and register them. you barely manage to register that you’re fucking your ex just mere hours after arguing with your special one. it doesn’t matter, not right now and not in this moment. not when satoru teases your clit until you’re able to cum all over him, painting his thighs with your slick as you slump against him.

even though he shouldn’t, even though he’s ruined your relationship, gojo cums inside your quivering cunt. fills you to the brim with his viscous, scorching seed and there’s so much of it that it seeps from your entrance — pooling okto the couch below.

“i love you.”

“i know.”

“come back to me, baby.”

“i…i don’t know if i can…”

you want to so badly, especially the damage is done, sealed by stolen kisses that’ll mean nothing in the morning.

satoru’s gotten what he wanted, to make you question your relationship and remind you of why you should come back to him. you fell asleep an intertwined mess on the couch and he leaves in the early hours of the next day.

all so that your current partner will never know the events that occurred on the night of your fight — you don’t have to heart to tell them when they come back the next morning with your favourite flowers and an apology. they shouldn’t have left you. they shouldn’t have gone to satoru behind your back. they love you.

but it’s already too late, a seed of doubt has been planted in your mind by your ex. you release that you still want him, that you might even miss him and the foundation of your new relationship becomes shaky and unstable.

you’ve grown insecure and you will always be comparing your current partner to your last partner. to gojo.

and your lover? now they’re insecure too, because you’re always so distant and you always smell a little different when you come home these days.

because you’ve started going behind their back to be with your ex, satoru, too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[forhappysake]

"Because I love you."

A/N - Guys I'm really into these sappy pieces recently. Pls feel free to send requests for something else if inspired. Also, I might be doing a pt.3 to Teach Me at some point, I just have to pick where the story is going.

Summary - A showdown with an unsub leaves you in the hospital. Spencer can't help but feel guilty. Could almost losing you push him to confess his love? (spoilers: yes it does)

Warnings - spencer x reader, BAU level violence, some angst on Spencer's part, fluff, and a love confession

You stared down at your hands, battered and bloodied from your futile attempts to fight back. Caught off guard during an interview with a man who was only supposed to be an eye witness,  not the unsub himself, forced you to fight for your life. By the time the neighbors heard the scuffle and called the local police to come to your rescue, you figured you looked like you’d been through seven rounds of an MMA fight. Your head ached, your eye was swollen shut, and you nearly cried in agony with every breath as you were certain you’d broken a rib. 

After a tense standoff with the local police, the unsub was in custody, leaving you on the floor with your many wounds. You managed to stand yourself up and walk out the door to the waiting ambulance, only to collapse into the EMT’s arms. You felt yourself being loaded in the back of the vehicle as they started an IV. As consciousness drifted away from you, you couldn’t help but wonder where your team was. 

***

You awoke in the hospital to the steady sound of your heart monitor beeping and muffled conversation from outside your room. Your bloodied clothes had been traded in for a hospital gown at some point, and your midsection was bound tightly with some sort of bandages, you assumed to keep your rib in place. You managed to open your good eye in an attempt to find the source of those muffled voices. Your eyes landed on Emily and JJ speaking in the corner of the room, voices hushed. 

“He can’t blame himself. None of us saw this coming,” Emily said, her voice stern but laced with concern. 

JJ shook her head. “He feels terrible, Emily. I’ve seen him come in and out of here crying three times in the last two hours. He rarely cries.” 

Who could they be talking about?

Emily looked at the floor in silence, trying to formulate a reply. JJ cleared her voice to speak again. “They’re partners, Emily,” JJ said, “Of course he’s going to blame himself.” 

Spencer. 

Deciding you’d had enough of eavesdropping, you did your best to sit up, only to let out a whimper when a sharp pain pierced your side. JJ and Emily turned to face you, surprised looks on both their faces. 

“Hey, just lay back,” JJ encouraged. She rushed to the bedside, placing a soothing hand on your arm.

“How long have I been asleep?” you asked. 

Emily shook her head, “Only twelve hours, which isn’t very much considering what you’ve been through. I’ll tell the doctors you need another IV and some pain medication.”

As she turned for the door, you shook your head, “Emily, wait.”

Emily turned to face you, coming to stand at the foot of your bed. “What is it?”

“Where’s Spencer?” you asked. Emily looked to JJ, the two of them sharing a knowing glance. You and Spencer had always been close, as partners and friends. 

“He’s been going back and forth between pacing the parking lot and the lobby for hours. I can’t imagine how many steps he’s taken,” Emily joked. “I’ll go get him for you.” With that, she turned and left the room, leaving you and JJ to catch up on what you’d missed in the last few hours. 

JJ explained what happened after you’d passed out: how the unsub was in custody, finding another victim in his basement, and the team realizing that they’d sent you out to interview the lunatic on your own. “We just thought he was going to give you some information about the case. We had no reason to think that he was the one who-”

You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop her. “I didn’t think so either. It’s why I agreed to go alone. Nobody’s at fault.” 

JJ nodded, a solemn look on her face. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. We were all so worried once we connected the dots. I was telling Emily - I haven’t seen Spencer so stressed in years.” 

As if on cue, both you and JJ turned to the sound of rushed footsteps coming down the hallway. Spencer’s tall frame was running (no, sprinting) down the hospital corridor. You felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips as he burst into the room, hair danging in front of his eyes and clearly out of breath. 

He approached your bedside, leaning down so he could be face-to-face with you. You could only see him with one good eye, but you did your best to smile to show him that you were doing alright. You brought a hand to his face, pushing the fallen strands of hair out of his eyes so you could see him more clearly. “Hello to you too,” you joked. 

“Y/N-” Spencer started, the tears quickly gathering in his eyes, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve gone with you. I should have known that-” 

“That the guy who called into the tipline was actually the unsub? Spencer, be logical. None of us knew. I was just telling JJ, nobody is at fault.”

A single tear fell down his cheek as he examined your injuries. With each scratch and bruise he found, he felt another crack forming in his heart. He hadn’t protected you. Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? He was your partner. Your best friend. He loved you, that he knew. He’d forced that love to be as platonic as he could make it, trying to avoid ruining your perfect friendship. It was moments like this that made that more difficult than ever, as he tried to reckon with his love and his guilt. 

Your bruised hand was still cradling his face. He could feel the bandages against his stubble, and he cursed himself again. It was only then that the other presence in the room became known to him. JJ stood on the other side of the bed, another knowing smile gently painting her lips. Spencer knew what he had to do. JJ knew what Spencer had to do. He looked at her, his eyes subtly asking her to leave the two of you alone. JJ took the hint with a small nod, leaving the room without another word as you and Spencer continued to examine each other. 

“So, JJ’s filled me in on what I missed,” I said, breaking the silence. “Sounds like a pretty exciting half day,” I joked. 

Spencer shook his head, pulling away from your hand. He didn’t go far, though, intertwining his own with yours as he leaned back from the bed. “I was worried sick,” he said. 

“I can tell, Spence,” you said, trying to prop yourself up with your pillow. “You really shouldn’t have been. You know I always come out of these things relatively unscathed.” He raised an eyebrow at your statement, taking in your swollen and bruised features. “Well… maybe not unscathed. Alive, at least,” you quipped. 

An eerie silence fell over the room. You could feel the tension increase as the gears turned in his head.

“But what if you don’t someday?” he whispered, his voice far away. You looked over at him, his eyes fixed on your heart monitor and the gentle green lines rising and falling accompanied by the signature beep-beep-beeping. 

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to bring him back down to Earth. “I’ll always come back, Spencer. It’s what you and I do. We come back alive for each other.” 

The tears that had pooled in his eyes earlier spilled over his cheeks as he let out a small whimper. He leaned down, gently wrapping his arms around you as he wept. “Hey, it’s okay Spencer,” you tried to calm him. 

“No, it’s not. It-it’s not because,” he trailed off. You could still feel his shoulders shaking as he cried. 

“Why, Spencer?” you asked once more. “Please, you can tell me anything.” 

Suddenly his sobs slowed. He pulled back from your embrace, taking in your features. Bruised and battered as you were, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He felt like his heart was going to explode. Before his brain could catch up with his mouth, the words came tumbling out. “Because I love you,” he said simply. 

Your jaw dropped open at his words. While you should’ve seen this coming, nothing could prepare you for the way your heart jumped. If it wasn’t evident from the expression on your face, the heart monitor picked up its beeping, nearly doubling its pace. The sound wasn’t lost on Spencer, who frantically looked at the screen.

“Oh no,” he mumbled, quickly walking to the monitor. “Did I upset you? I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ve just felt this way for so long and if I keep pretending like I don’t-”

“Spencer,” you cut him off, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in minutes. “I love you too.” 

The look on his face was priceless, and you wished you could have taken a picture, but you did your best to engrave it on your brain forever. His brown, teary eyes brightened in a moment, a glimmer of hope shining from within. “You do?” he asked. 

You laughed, allowing your head to fall back on the pillow behind you. “Spencer, I volunteer to work with you during nearly every case. We split a room every week. I only wished that you’d said this sooner so we could’ve split the bed, too.”

He stared at you in shock. The tears in his eyes long forgotten as a smile crept on his face.

A soft laugh left his mouth as he leaned down to you once more, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, careful to avoid any injured area. “Well, I promise that next time we can,” he said. “And,” he started once more, “I’m never letting you go anywhere by yourself again.”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers over his own. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Heart V

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You're sick

Ingrid knew there would be health issues throughout your life. She knew that routine doctor's appointments would happen every year for you. She knew that the medication you took lowered your immune system.

She knew that at some point, you'd get sick.

She didn't realise it would be this quickly.

You woke with the sniffles which turned into a sore throat and then a headache and a bad tummy. It all spiralled from there.

It started on the weekend.

Saturday was spent going to a check up. Sunday was game day but on the drive home, you threw up all over yourself.

Monday was a day off and it was clear that you had no hope of getting better quickly. You were sniffly and tearful and it was an all-around bad time for everyone.

They take it in shifts with you. Ingrid stays with you for one half of the night. Mapi takes the rest of it.

There's twenty minute powernaps fitted in between it all when they can manage but most of their time is spent up with you as you struggle to find sleep.

"Mapi!" Ingrid calls," Come on, we've got to get to the car!"

She paces the length of the apartment with you in her arms. Your nose is all stuffy and you've woken up with the worst case of blocked ears of your life.

It's clear your ears are giving you the most grief. You whine and huff and desperately pull at them as if it will dislodge the build up in them.

Mapi's getting changed from her evening shift with you and Ingrid can do nothing but pace and pat your back in the hope of settling you back down.

It's been another bad night. You slept in short half an hour bursts in between crying, puking and crying some more.

Mapi skids into the room, still in her socks as she throws things into your bag, stocking up on medicine and water and your favourite toys. She hops around the room as she forces her shoes onto her feet before practically sprinting out of the door.

You make it to training just on time despite your awful wails the entire journey.

Patri and Pina both wince as Ingrid walks in with your sobbing form.

"What's wrong with her?"

"She's sick," Ingrid says plainly," Badly. The doctor said it's the flu."

As if to prove her point, you burst into a violent coughing fit and Mapi is instantly trying to soothe your throat with water as soon as it's over.

"Did you give her medicine?"

Ingrid angrily drops her bag into her cubby. "Oh, wow, Patri! What a revolutionary concept?! Giving medicine to my sick toddler! Why didn't we think of that?!" She snaps.

Ingrid sighs deeply as she looks at herself in the mirror.

"Sorry," She says after a long breadth of silence," I'm tired. I didn't mean to shout."

"No," Patri says quickly," You've clearly got a lot on your plate. I hope the little one feels better soon."

There's a respite briefly during training when you decide the hot Barcelona sun is perfect for napping in and you sleep under a tree nearby, wrapped up in a blanket despite the warm weather.

Mapi learnt very quickly not to fight you when you said you were cold despite the fever ravaging your body. All she can do is hope that the extra warmth breaks your fever so you can feel better when you wake up.

She's kind of happy with the outcome of your nap.

You've sweated out your fever which is good but you still feel bad. Your nose is still stuffy and you keep rubbing at your ears to unblock them.

The worst part of this now is that you've got clingier than ever before. You latch onto Mapi as soon as you see her and refuse to let go.

She's kind of glad all they're doing now is general fitness stuff because there's no way she could do anything technical with you still attached.

It's pushing it doing fitness stuff too but Mapi had come prepared.

It was an impulse purchase when you first fell sick and Ingrid had laughed until she cried when it arrived. Mapi was not dissuaded and she brought out her purchase, ignoring the snickering from Patri and Pina behind her.

With you still clingy and wanting nothing more than to crawl into Mami's skin, you let her manipulate your limbs into the toddler carrier.

She straps you in and then straps it to her chest.

She stands and has to find her balance quickly before triumphantly turning around to show everyone her solution.

They all laugh but Mapi doesn't care, not with the way you relax so easily against her and not when you fall into another fitful sleep.

[ddiidi]

bf!Bangchan x gn!reader (felix mentioned)

Masterlist

When he calls you clingy, so you distance yourself

Previous Pt. 3

Pt. 4

Next Pt. 5 (last part)

!Warnings: angst, reader is confused about their feelings, Chan gets pushed away (no actual harm done!), fake!texts, swearing (lmk if i missed anything)

Side-Note: *does a happy twerk dance bc I actually came up w something even tho my brain is fried rn* No but rlly, I didn't even want to do a 5th part but I had to find a way on making it work between them and this part turned out to be too long☝🏽😞💔💔💔💔💔💔 now I'm heartbroken... ANYWAY ENJOY

It's been 2 days. 2 days and you already miss him. It's not that he doesn't deserve it, but you really just want to hug him right now.

You've spent the last 2 days, crying in your bed and not a single text message from chan. The other members did message you, but you only want one from him...you know you told him not to message you, but it's his fault in the first place.

You stood up and got out of bed. Maybe unboxing my stuff will get me on other ideas, you thought to yourself and made your way to the living room, taking your time unboxing and placing your items on the furniture you bought weeks before.

Everything went well and your mood brightened up till you got to one specific box. The box, filled with Polaroid pics from your date, loveletters and poetries written by chan for you and more. You just stare at them for a while, but then decide to close the box and take a nice warm bath, maybe then you'll relax for a bit and not think of him.

You went to your bathroom, and turned the bathtub water on, taking off your clothes next. You take some bathing salt and a bath bomb out of your cabinet, throw them in the half filled bathtub and step inside. You've nearly melted at the feeling of the hot, but not too hot water on you skin. Since you're together with chan, you've barely looked after yourself, you nearly forgot how good it felt to just spend you time and have no one else around and suddenly, it wasn't that bad that chan isn't around anymore. You actually felt, relived, so you just close your eyes and relax....

xxxxxx

You must have fallen asleep, because when you open your eyes, the water was cold. You've rubbed your eyes, washed yourself, wrapped your body in a bathrobe and left the bathroom. You yawn out and went straight to your room, when you hear your phone vibrate. Someone is blowing up your phone and in the back of your head, you wished that it's the person, it actually is. Chan.

You throw your phone on your bed and walk over to your wardrobe and bang your head against it. What. The. Actual. Fuck Y/l/n Y/n. Why would you possibly ask HIM, to come into your apartment after you told him you wanted space???

You grab some clothes out of your wardrobe, flinching as you turn around, as someone widely bangs open the door to your bedroom.

"Y/n?! Y/N!" chan screams, excited and runs over to you like an excited puppy, just to stop in his tracks as he remembers that you warned him not to touch you, so he stands still in front of you, with a giant smile on his face.

"Get out of my room. Can't you see i'm changing right now?" you coldly reply to him, fighting your inner demons to not jump right in his arms and hug him. His smile drops and he just blinks at you confused, which nearly breaks your heart. How is it possible that he was so mean to you, but is also so freaking cute which makes it so hard to hate him? "I-I don't understand.. why do I have to go out, it never was a problem to you-" "Do you want me to kick you out of the apartment instead?" you ask, as you walk over to your bed.

"NO, no i'll leave.." Chan lowly responds, walking out of the room. You weren't going to risk him calling you clingy again, for changing while he's in the same room, not happening.

xxxxx

After you've changed into something comfortable, you've asked him to come back inside and sit next to you on your bed, with a good amount of space, which Chan stared at with a questioning look, but didn't comment it any further.

"So? Why are you here?" you started asking, "I mean, why did you come to my apartment. If you came to just apologize, you can go again, because what you said needs more than an apology. Just because you'll feel better after apologising doesn't mean-" "-Doesn't mean that it's actually okay, I know baby.." Chan interrupts you, as he stared down at your arms "Can I...hug you?" "Excuse me?" you ask confused. Since when does he ask if he can hug you..? "I mean, sure I guess" you just say and with that Chan grabs you by you waist with one hand, putting his other hand, securingly on your neck, hugging you. You were about to hug him back, but stop midway.

Why did you just stop? Isn't that what you wanted? He's here now so why don't you hug him? Could it be that you're...scared? Scared that he might think you're actually clingy and annoying? Scared of that he'll push you away if you make a move? Or are you...

"You smell so good...i missed you so much..." chan's words pull you out of your thoughts, as you push him off. He looks at you, confused. Why did you suddenly push him off? "Wh-" "You should go." "Wha- But why.." "Please Chris just go." "Can I at least get a kiss-" "GEEZ CHRIS JUST GO!" you yell. You didn't intentionally yell at him, but you needed some time for yourself to collect your thoughts, and he's only in the way.

"Please...just go" you mumble out, and Chan stares at you for a while, before standing up from the bed. "I'll text you when I'm home" he casually says, with a hint of sadness in his voice. He mumbles out a quick and quiet >>I'm sorry, for everything<< out, and makes his way out of the apartment.

What was wrong with you? You've missed him so much so why would you not hug him back? Why would you ask him to go? And why...why didn't you kiss him?... You've loved to do it before....so why not now?..

What....was wrong with you?

Are you really...

As clingy as he said?

⁺˚*･༓☾✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧☽༓･*˚⁺

@stay-tiny-things @finnbbl @emilyywhyy @wolfs-howling @justastraymoa @loveyouamory @muraae @callmekdab @seungquokka @vive-la-v-i-d-a @sunghoonnolgy

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

Y’know what would be hilarious?

Ace does not give Zoro a shovel talk. He watches, and he observes, and in the end he decides that that poor dumb swordsman is so clearly whipped for his idiot little brother that drawing attention to it would be cruel. Luffy can look after himself anyway, and honestly? His whole crew seem pretty protective of him. He’s made good friends. If he and Zoro ever somehow do get their shit together, Ace will be happy for them.

Sabo does not give Zoro a shovel talk. He’s been gone for so long, and by the time he’s back in Luffy’s life Luffy and Zoro have already been an item for a while. As much as he wants to stand menacingly at Luffy’s shoulder and demand that Zoro have him home by ten, it’s too late for that. He doesn’t need to threaten Zoro anyway; the guy is obviously gone for Luffy, and if he DOES make Luffy cry, Sabo will just kill him. No need for the build-up.

Garp does not give Zoro a shovel talk. Or at least, not in so many words. The man does seem to take extra pleasure in beating Zoro up whenever they cross paths, but it’s unclear if that’s actually happening or if it’s just in Zoro’s head. If Garp brings up their relationship at all, Luffy doesn’t say, and Zoro doesn’t ask.

Dragon does not give Zoro a shovel talk. He stands in a shadowy corner and stares at Zoro very intensely for a very long time, and then he silently walks away without Zoro ever even knowing he was there.

Shanks does not give Zoro a shovel talk. He just slaps him on the back of the head, hands him a beer, and wishes him good luck. Then he tears up when Luffy asks him to be at the wedding.

Dadan does not give Zoro a shovel talk. Why should she care about who that brat shacks up with? Ignore that she’s cleaning her guns threateningly on the table. She’s a bandit. They do things like that. She does not care at all that Luffy is dating Zoro, and if Zoro breaks his heart then that’s Luffy’s own fault for falling for some roguish swordsman. None of her business.

Makino… Makino gives Zoro a shovel talk. Plz imagine Makino smiling sweetly and coming to stand in front of Zoro while he's sitting so that they're eye level. Plz imagine Makino looming menacingly over Zoro. Plz imagine Zoro letting her do that. Plz imagine the Staw Hats all watching as The King Of Hell falls all over himself to “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” and “right away ma’am” this tiny non-combatant with zero fighting skill or experience.

Plz imagine Luffy just nodding approvingly. That’s Makino! Of course you have to respect Makino! She’s Makino!

[sourbinnie]

☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

maknae line

a/n: first reaction ¡! i decided i would go with the "compares you" part. hope i did it well for yall and to the person who requested it, thank u!!! i'll publish maknae line whenever i'm free:]

chan ✉

arguments could get pretty heated with chan sometimes (he's a libra at the end of the day). it could get stressful since you've been going back & forth for so long now, as you tried to make him understand that he wasn't taking care of himself but it only brought back hurtful words that you were letting it pass under the excuse that he was "too tired". maybe you were too naive at that moment thinking that he would calm down and you guys would solve it like you always do.

then you heard it, he didn't say their name but you could only imagine who he was talking about at that point and time. 

"they would just leave me alone and let me be, why can't you do the same? ah right you're not them and you will never be." he said and horror washed him instantly as they realized what they did. fights were inevitable but you can always keep comments to yourself right? it was just the heat of the moment that made him slip out such cruel words. as soon as you were turning away to leave, he was trying to find his way to you but it was too late anyways. "baby nono, don't leave not right now, it's late and i was fucking stupid. i'm so fucking sorry-."

"i just need some space right now, yeah? i need to be away from you." you said and that only made him worry even more as that's the last thing he wanted right now. "just let me christopher, we'll talk when i get back." 

"don't call me that, i'm still your channie, your boyfriend and i still fucking love you. listen i'm sorry but please don't go." he said close to the tears falling from his eyes and you just shook your head as you grabbed your things and he followed you around the house like a lost puppy. "(y/n) let's work this out yeah? i'll go to the dorms tonight and you'll stay here."

eventually knowing he wouldn't give up, you just nodded as you went to your shared bedroom and sighed. letting the tears finally from your eyes and hearing the door close was enough to let your sobs out from how much those words stung in your heart.

minho ✉ 

fighting with minho wasn't easy. his witty responses and his hurtful comments always stood out like daggers in your heart. he usually didn't fight at all but when he did, most of the time he took it too far and it wasn't easy to forget what he said. as the new comeback approached, you tried your best to be supportive but when you couldn't see them on their first win, it hurt minho. he wanted you to be there, backstage or in the crowd cheering for them but he did not see you anywhere. turns out you were too late, had a "work" emergency, he called bullshit on that.

"i'm sorry min, i'll promise i'll be on the next one. my boss really needed me and-." he cut you off immediately, not wanting to hear it.

"it's fine. it's not like they would miss out on this like you did. maybe i should just get back with them." he muttered and it was enough for you to walk away from him. all the boys were there to talk to him about what just happened and why were you crying but he was completely petrified from your reaction and how you just went away without a word. "god i'm such a fucking idiot." he said as he chased after you through the hallways.

"don't even try talking to me. i get that you're fucking mad but that doesn't give you an excuse to say stuff like that." you said as you still walked away and didn't even look in his direction. minho tried to process what was happening all at once but couldn't bare to see the look in your eyes as the tears were still going down your face.

"please listen to me for a second. it was stupid that i got mad, i should've understood you from the beginning but please stay and i'll make it up to you. i promise." he said and even if it did sound sincere, you just couldn't do it.

"i'm sorry, i think i wanna be alone tonight." you said as you looked at him one last time and kissed his cheek before muttering "goodbye minho" and walking through the door. leaving a distraught and regretful minho behind.

changbin ✉ 

it wasn't rare for you to fight with changbin, what was rare was when he got mad. this time when you were at the studio, making sure 3racha were feeling well and not overworking themselves, you were met with a furious bin. it surprised you, you've never seen him mad and maybe something else was happening that you didn't know or you chose the worst time to visit the studio. whatever it was, it made you feel so small and like you were in a place you did not belong. jisung and chan weren't even there to witness it but you guessed that as soon as they heard, they left you guys alone.

"look i'm sorry. i don't know what i did wrong but that doesn't excuse your attitude and how you're treating me right now!" you said but it wasn't enough to his ears as he gave you the next words.

"god i can never say anything, at least with them they would let me express myself. i should've never broken up with them if i knew i was gonna end up with you." ouch was all that could be said about that as you nodded and felt the water in your eyes grow slowly. "shit- i'm so fucking sorry, i don't know what came over me baby."

he tried to get close to you but you just took a step back and that broke changbin's heart completely. it made him feel like a monster in front of you but he couldn't blame you for that, it was all his fault in the end. when he saw you walk away, as much as he wanted to, he decided not to follow you and let you go. he couldn't describe what he was feeling when he saw you practically run away from the building and not answer for jisung's calls since he was just walking in with chan. 

"what the fuck happened hyung?" jisung asked as he crossed his arms and that's when changbin lost the control of his tears. he wasn't one to usually cry but he was now gonna be haunted with muttering those words to you and what he made you feel in that moment.

"i fucked it up like i always do." he said brokenly.

hyunjin ✉

as much as you loved hyunjin, he got so petty in fights it was irritating. he was the definition of drama queen and he could fight on & on about the tiniest of details. like right now when you just got home and you forgot to do some things in your shared apartment. tiny things like the dishes or the laundry usually didn't piss him off but today when he got home practice and saw, in his words, that the whole house was upside down, he got stressed. 

"look i'm sorry, i forgot to do it and i know you've been busy with practice. i'll do it tomorrow since i get to go home earlier." you tried to explain but he just shook his head and crossed his arms.

"tomorrow? are you serious? they would've done it right here and now and wouldn't be putting up excuses like you're doing." he didn't even have to mention them for you to know who he was talking about. it felt like twisting the knife on the wound as you just looked at him with the most hurtful stare.

"of course they would. they didn't have a job in the first place and relied on you for everything!" you said and laughed bitterly but in a sad way. "if it's my job then it's a problem but with your job there's literally no excuse right? 'cause it's more important. grow up hyunjin." 

"look babe i'm sorry. i don't know what the fuck i was thinking when i said that." he tried to make up an excuse at the moment but he knew nothing would justify what he said and implied with his words. it was met with a sigh from you and it was your turn to shake your head. "i don't think your job is less important and i shouldn't have said what i said-."

"but you said it." you whispered and decided to head to your shared bedroom to lock the door. you needed some time alone not only because of the harsh words but because it made you process your whole relationship in a flashback. 

[flammingnachos]

“𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 （）𝗋𝗈𝗋𝗈𝗇𝖺 𝗓𝗈𝗋𝗈 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 （𝘔）

𝖲𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌；You know that Zoro's hygiene has been, to put it lightly, lax. You decide that enough is enough, and with a little encouragement from Nami, you decide that there's only one option to convince him. Shower sex.

It’s been 6 days. You think to yourself with a small shudder. The first few days, you almost don’t mind. It’s kinda sexy, the musty scent. It’s a reminder of the hard work that he puts himself through daily. And of course, the visual benefits of that work are certainly worth a mild stench. But 6 days? It’s beyond a mild stench now. It’s a fucking identity trait. You’d only been together for a couple months, so you don’t exactly know what the proper way to bring up this kind of shit. Like “hey babe, I’d love to really take a trip to the bone zone and all, but if we do right now, Brook isn’t gonna be the only dead one on the ship.” Even if you did say that, he’d be so confused, the adorable idiot, and probably pretty dejected too. You sigh, squeezing your eyes closed and press your fingertips to your temples.

“I’m just gonna have to manipulate the poor boy.” You decide out loud, having no idea how to manage that.

“Who are we manipulating?” Nami pops her head in the room with a sly grin. You nod your head in a greeting to her.

“Zoro,” you say with exasperation. “To take a shower.”

Nami laughs loudly. “Good fucking luck,” she’s almost crying with how hard she’s laughing. “I’ve been barking up that tree since the literal day I met him.”

This is not what you needed to hear. You groan and flop back on your mattress, clapping your hand over your eyes. After another few moments of laughing, you feel Nami sit next to you on the edge of the bed.

“Y/n, the answer is obvious.”

You raise an eyebrow and glance up at through the parted fingers over your eyes. “Oh?” You ask.

“Shower sex, duh.” Nami replies, sticking her tongue out at you with a wink.

You flush. Goddamn it. You think. Seductive manipulation is not precisely your forte. Especially with someone as completely dense as Zoro. In some ways, Zoro is one of the most intelligent people you know. He’s instinctual, able to observe his environment, adaptable and cunning in a fight. But with other people? That he actually likes? Let’s just say the wheel is spinning, but the hamster’s dead. Very dead.

“I was afraid of this,” you say gravely.

Nami rolls her eyes. “Christ, y/n. You’re acting like it’s such a chore to have sex with your boyfriend.”

“UGH.” You throw a pillow at her, and she cackles again as she stands up to walk towards the door.

“You’re a true champ, y/n. From all of us Straw-hat Pirates, we thank you for your service.” She salutes, dodging another pillow that you chuck her direction as she walks out the door.

As you sit on the edge of your bed, you grab the last pillow left and shove it into your face, letting it stifle the almost inhuman, frustrated screech that rips through your throat. The sound dissipates, and you stand up, heading up to the Crow’s Nest, where you know the smelly swordsman will be. Nami and Robin snicker at you as you pass and you flip them off crudely. You climb up the ladder to the Crow’s Nest and open the hatch, pulling yourself inside.

You smell him before you can see him.

Why am I doing this to myself? Why?

You turn towards the sound of heavy breathing and you see Zoro, in all his bare-chested glory, doing one-armed hand stand push-ups while he used the free arm to curl a massive dumbbell.

Oh yeah, that’s why.

His back is to you, so you’re able to watch the muscles of his back and shoulders ripple beneath his tanned skin effortlessly. He’s taken his long green coat off, leaving him in only his pants and boots. You can see droplets of sweat dripping down his back, each bead following a different muscular curve. He makes soft grunting noises with each rep and you feel the knot in your stomach tighten and your heart race. You clear your throat softly, hoping to gain his attention. He doesn’t turn, only switching the role of each arm.

So, you try again, this time a bit louder. You watch him stiffen at the disturbance, his head shooting up between his arms to look at the intruder. His steely eyes meet yours and soften, along with his body and he gives you a grin, clearly pleased to see you. He pushes himself up and flips upright to land on his feet before turning to greet you.

“Hey y/n,” He smiles again and grabs a towel off a rack to wipe his face and hair.

He begins to walk toward you and you almost forget your mission. He looks so handsome, especially with that wide grin that he typically only reserves for you. His green hair is damp, making it a slightly darker shade than usual, and he drapes the towel over the back of his neck. He halts in front of you, his hands moving to grip each end of the towel casually. “What’s up?” He says.

You realize you haven’t taken a breath for a few moments, and you inhale to reply to him. Rookie mistake.

The smell of him hits you again, and you cough without warning. Shit, you think. Don’t screw around, y’n. Get this damn mosshead in the shower with you pronto.

“Hey,” You reply, forcing yourself into a smile. “Just came up here to check on you. How are you doing?”

He smiles again, the oblivious bastard. “Oh, okay. I’m fine. Just doing the usual,” he replies. “Shit, your face had me going for a second. I thought something might be wrong,”

He chuckles. You pause a beat too long. He notices. Fuck.

“…is there something wrong, y/n?” He asks, now somewhat nervous.

“Oh no!” You say too quickly. “No, no, nothing’s wrong. I just came up here because…”

You know you need to calm down if you’re going to attempt anything that mildly looks like seduction. You take a breath and drop your gaze, now looking at him from underneath your eyelashes flirtatiously.

“I came up here because I was about to take a shower...” You place a hand on his warm chest and push up to the shell of his ear. You lower your voice. “And I was wondering if you might want to join me?”

You feel him stiffen again beneath the hand on his chest and his breath hitch. His hands come up to lightly grip your hips.

“You what?” He asks, his voice suddenly a little rougher.

You kiss the soft skin just beneath his angled jaw. “Join me. In the shower.” You repeat.

His grip on your hips tightens for a second before he grabs your hand suddenly, pulling you towards the hatch of the Crow’s Nest. It’s so fast that you almost can’t process what’s happening. He opens the hatch with his foot.

“Oh, so you want to come?” You manage. He swoops you up into his arms and jumps down the hatch without regard to the ladder. You land firmly on the deck below and he doesn’t bother to set you down.

“Zoro?” You ask, mesmerized by the concentration on his face. He shifts to hold you with one arm as he opens the door to the bath house room, slamming it behind him. He sets you down and wraps strong arms around your waist, kissing your neck.

“Get in the shower. Now.” He commands. Internal screams. And in that moment, as the water turns on and your simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette quickly strips away the rest of his clothes, you don’t know what you’re more excited about, the amazing sex that you’re about to have, or the fact that the simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette is finally going to be fucking clean.

“Get in the shower. Now.” Zoro commands.

Holy shit, you think. If I’d known this would be the reaction, I’d’ve done it ages ago.

Zoro can barely keep his hands off of you, only pausing for a brief moment to reach behind him and turn on the faucet. His calloused fingers roam your clothed body, and you instinctively arch into him. He hums with approval. His lips, hungry for contact, pepper your jaw and neck with affection. You sigh and push closer, only slightly embarrassed when you feel him smirk against your skin. He knows you want him. The knot low in your stomach confirms this. His hands grip your ass, pulling your hips together, and you feel that he wants you too. Through the rough material of his pants, you feel his insistent desire and you can’t help but moan quietly. This elicits a moan from the greenette as well, his head falling to your shoulder, and you pull yourself out of your depravity long enough to feel smug.

“A bit excited are we?” You tease in a whisper.

He growls and pulls your shirt off of your shoulder to bite your collarbone. “Did you not hear me the first time?” His hands go to the waistband of your shorts. “Get. In. The. Shower.”

Your vaingloriousness quickly falls to the wayside as he unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down swiftly along with your underwear. You feel a rush of heat over your body and your urgency now matches his. Deftly, your fingers do away with his pants and boxers as one of his hands now gropes your naked ass. The other, ever more impatient, moves to the nape of your neck and the collar of your shirt. All of your attention, by necessity, is on getting him naked, so you almost don’t notice the rip of fabric being torn from your body until you feel your nipples suddenly harden with exposure to the air in the room.

You mewl as the steam fills up the small cubicle. He doesn’t give you any more time. He lifts you up. “Wrap your legs around me.” It isn’t a question. You comply. With a moan, you feel your core tighten as another flood of wetness seeps out of your pussy.

He groans too. “Fuck,” He can feel your wetness against the base of his cock. He steps the two of you into the shower.

The heat of the water is only matched by the heat between the two of you. Your legs, already wobbly, drop to the floor as he pushes you against the wall, the water streaming down his back as he leans back to look at you. Zoro is sex personified. It’s almost too overwhelming to take in all at once. His breathing is ragged. Your eyes and hands devour his broad chest, feeling each hard plane and individually curated muscle. His hair, now saturated with water, has evolved from its usual hue to a deep jewel toned emerald. His jaw is tight, but his full lips are parted with anticipation. His silver eyes, intense and hooded, bore through you, disarming you with their fervor.

He can’t take it anymore.

His lips crush to yours and you groan loudly against his mouth. One of his hands tangles through your hair, holding your mouth exactly where he wants it. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, and you gladly open your mouth for his perusal. His other hand moves to your full breast, massaging it roughly for a moment before he deftly flicks his thumb over your erect nipple. You squirm under his touch. He hums because he knows you love when he plays with your tits. Your hand drifts down to his length, gently caressing the skin there.

“Y/n,” He breathes, ripping his mouth from yours as you wrap your delicate fingers around the base of his cock. The water, hot and unrelenting, streams down your arm as you do so, and you sigh at the warmth of the contact. You’ve always been impressed by every part of Zoro, and his penis was no exception. You marvel at his thick length like it’s the first time you’ve ever been blessed with the opportunity to touch such a monument of masculine sexuality.

As you continue your ministrations, his lips trail down your neck and collarbone slowly, all the way to the height of your breast. He intentionally avoids your sensitive peak, and you squeeze his cock lightly as if to say, no fair. The hand in your hair moves to your hip.

He chuckles and slowly, painfully, flicks his tongue over your nipple. Once, twice, three times, before he begins to swirl it around the area. And to make matters worse, he mirrors his movements on your other breast with his opposite hand. He is playing dirty.

Dirtier than he is after 6 days without a shower, you think sarcastically to yourself.

He interrupts your thought by suddenly taking your erect peak into his mouth and sucking harshly. Your other hand immediately shoots grip to his green tresses, urging his mouth to continue. You begin to pant, the steam from the shower making the air thick and hot and damp. You feel the hand that was on your hip suddenly playing around the edges of your wet folds. He starts with your inner thighs, only his pinky brushing up against your aching core. You begin to pump him faster, moving to play with his balls every so often. Though he is trying to remain composed, his ragged breathing gives him away and his patience with teasing you begins to slip. Zoro’s thumb begins to rub your clit while his fingers move to your dripping opening.

Despite his own almost unbearable desire, he can’t resist taunting you a little. He pulls his mouth away from your breast to look at you. “Is that the shower I’m feeling, or are you really this wet, y/n?”

You see the cocky glint his eye and you want to wipe that smirk right off his face. Without warning, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, hoisting yourself up to hover right above his stiff cock. Though he is taken off guard, he does not falter as he reflexively moves his hands to catch you. His strong hands hold you up under your ass as his mouth falls open slightly in surprise. He had enough strength for the both of you, and he holds you up with ease, keeping his balance and ensuring your safety as well.

You raise an eyebrow and tease your wet opening over his hard cock. You envelope the very tip of him, groaning as you feel him already stretching you. You both shiver with the promise of what is to come. Or who, is to come.

“Goddamn it, y/n, I can’t take it anymore,” He growls and slams you down onto him, immediately filling you to the hilt. The fullness nearly overwhelms you, your sight momentarily leaving you as you feel every thick inch of him against your inner walls. One strong arm wraps around the small of your back as he continues to hold you up. You love that he doesn’t need the wall for support, and your hand goes to grope his muscular shoulder and bicep in appreciation of his power.

Zoro, as with everything he does, is always intense in sex, and this time is no exception. The concentration is palpable on his face, a small v creasing between his eyebrows. His face is contorted in pleasure and a groan rumbles through his chest. His jaw is tight but his mouth is soft as he begins to thrust roughly into you.

“Oh God, Zoro,” You head lolls back, exposing your neck to him. He seizes the opportunity to begin kissing your neck and jaw, whispering your name again and again each iteration a little more wild, a little more broken. His cock feels incredible inside of you, the angle of each thrust stroking that undeniable pleasure point. The scene is entirely erotic. It’s all too much—far too much.

Each thrust is punctuated by a moan and the slapping of wet skin to wet skin. You feel Zoro’s body stiffen and you know that he’s getting close. The tell-tale build in your own core reflects the sentiment. With each stroke, you climb higher and higher and higher until your ecstasy is inexorable.

“Z-Zoro…” You manage with a gasp. “I’m about t-to…” He growls and his thrusts become even more wild—hard, manic, sure. Your lips find his ear and you gently tug on his earrings with your teeth, your last conscious action before your climax overtakes you. This is Zoro’s undoing.

“Y/n!” He yells, and you feel his seed spill hot inside of you.

You drown together in your pleasure, the waves crashing over both of you relentlessly. When your body is spent, you crumble against his chest and he wraps both of his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head, and rubs your back affectionately as he whispers your name under the still warm water. After a few moments, he sets you down. He offers his arm for stability and you take it with gratitude, leaning against him for another few moments before you separate. He smiles lazily down at you, almost bashful at his display. He rubs his free hand against the back of his neck, a slight flush on his face. You grin back and grab the bottle of soap from behind him and place it in his hand.

“Now,” You say after a long moment. “Get clean, marimo.”

He narrows his eyes. “You tricked me,” He says knowingly.

You grab your own body wash and begin to lather up. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

He stares for another long moment, considering, before he finally shrugs and squeezes some soap out onto his hands and begins to do the same.

You smile and kiss his cheek.

“Honestly,” He says, that grin creeping back on his face. “If this is what showering is going to be like with you around, I’ll shower every goddamn day.”

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy (2)

PART 2 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I was wondering doing a bonus part about Fernando POV throughout everything (to show he was ALSO miserable), but I don't know if i have the time and energy for it. Let me know if you guys would be interested in it and I'll do it in headcanons/topics.

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was taking way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

PART 1 | FERNANDO'S HEADCANONS

You were moping and crying in the living room when the phone started ringing. Looking at the little screen that showed the number that was calling, you knew it was Fernando. You had memorized his number at some point in your lifetime. Your parents weren’t home, so you hesitated. You took so long that his call went to voicemail.

“I know you’re there,” he said, voice sounding tired, low and inpatient, “please pick up the-”

You pulled the phone cable, unplugging the call and silencing him. Wiping your tears, you stared at the unplugged phone on the little side table for what felt like hours, until your parents returned from work, when you got up to plug the phone back and pretend like you didn’t spend the whole day mourning a friendship you always thought would last forever.

After two days ignoring all calls, even Flavio’s, you decided that you’d shield yourself from now on, and you wouldn’t give Fernando any more ammo to hurt you. You met with Flavio at the next race, face heavy with makeup to cover up the sleepless nights you had gone through. You put your bag down and stared at Flavio across the table.

“Good morning. Let’s go back to work,” you said, gently pulling the stack of papers from his grasp. He called your name in that tone, of someone wanting a heart to heart.

“We should talk about the f-” He started but you cut him off.

“No, I don’t want to talk about that,” you said.

“I talked to Fernando and he-”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. He’s dead to me.” You repeated slowly, finally looking up at him. Flavio must’ve seen something in your eyes because he let the topic go.

You didn’t see Fernando for two more days, and when the weekend officially started, you avoided him like the plague. Even when you two were in the same place with other drivers, you’d ignore his existence for the most part. Whenever you were in a little circle chatting with other drivers and he arrived, you’d leave immediately. Press conference, you convinced Jenson to switch places with you so you could be as far from Fernando as possible. Even with team debriefs, with Flavio trying to make you talk to Fernando, you refused.

The rest of the season was insane, during team meetings and debriefs you were cold and barely talked to him. He didn’t try to talk to you either, and the silent distance only grew.

You were head to head in a race, you were P2 and Fernando P3 right behind you.

“Switch with Fernando,” your engineer said on the radio.

“He won’t fucking pass me,” you said into the radio, holding your position and pace. He was less than a second behind, and you refused to let him pass.

“I repeat, let him pass,” That was Flavio.

“If he manages to overtake me, he can go.”

He didn’t. You knew you had more pace, but still he insisted, and through the mirrors, you could see him closing in behind you. He tried to overtake but you pushed the car fast, and when he couldn’t anymore, he turned into you, touching his front right tyre to your rear left tyre. You were too fast. The mere touch of his tyre bursted yours. You couldn’t even get angry as you lost control of the car in a millisecond, the speed making your car fly into the air as it hit the gravel. With your car overturning a few times in the air, you watched your sight going ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.

Then you blacked out.

When you woke up, you were on a stretcher being placed carefully inside the ambulance, you tried to get up, dizzy and someone handed you a bag where you threw up inside.

You had an insane headache as they took you to the medical center. Apparently, everything else was alright as you checked your own body for any injuries or problems. The doctor checked you but still made you through a round of tests and injected saline solution diluted with pain medicine in an IV drip. They also decided you’d stay overnight to make sure nothing was wrong. 

Your dad, who was watching from the garage, was the first to find you in the medical center, visibly worried and crying. He hugged you for a whole minute, before taking a step back and touching your face to make sure you were really alright.

“I’m ok, Papá. Just passed out when the car was spinning in the air,” You smiled softly, wanting to dissipate his worry.

“When you didn’t answer the radio-” He choked back tears.

“It’s ok, I’m ok now.”

“What are you feeling, darling?” He pressed, holding your hands to look for injuries in your arms.

“I’m all in one piece, Papá. Just a little sore, but that’s normal whenever a racing driver crashes,” you let him know, and he nodded.

“Let me just call your mother. She was so worried she wanted to get into the first flight here,” He told you.

“Tell her I’m alright and I love her,” you whispered and he nodded, going outside.

You sighed as you were left alone, trying to find a comfortable position where you didn’t have to move too much, since your whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The door opened and you thought it was Flavio, but you were faced with Fernando, still sweaty and in his overalls. He looked disheveled, but he was full of worry, even his eyes looked a little misty as he stood there a few meters from you.

But you couldn’t look past the anger when the memory of him diving into your car came back. He had gambled with your life, out of pettiness, out of envy, he couldn’t pass you, so he decided the next best thing was to take you out, not even caring about the danger he was putting you through.

“Leave.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Please,” he begged with his voice softer than you had heard for almost a year, “let me just-”

“Leave! You could’ve gotten me killed, Fernando. Get out!” You said, louder. “Do you have any idea that you could have ruined my life in a moment of anger?! That you could have gotten me seriously injured or worse?! I would have never done that to you!” You pressed your index finger to the nurse button repeatedly, and a few seconds later, a nurse came in, “Ma’am can you escort him out please?”

You could see in his eyes that he was hurt by your words, but in that moment, all you felt was blind rage, for what he did the last time you spoke and because he crashed into you on purpose. You didn’t want to hear any excuses now that he realized he put your life in danger just because his ego couldn’t take a hit.

The next day, after you were discharged, you traveled for a meeting with Flavio at Renault’s headquarters. He met you alone in the meeting room, talking to you about the accident, and after making sure you were physically fine, he went off.

“What you did yesterday was reckless and you went against express orders from the team and from me. This is not happening again, or you will be risking your seat at Renault,” He said, his voice never leaving room for debate, you swallowed and nodded, “When the team orders you to do something, you do. No questioning, and no going against it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fernando was really worried about you yes-”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” You cut Flavio off.

“You two are best friends, it’s really sad to see you lose all that because of Formula 1” Flavio said, gently.

“He put my life at risk, Flavio. This is not something a friend would do,” you stood up, walking away but you stopped by the door, “Kinda curious how motorsports, the very thing that brought us together, is the same that tore us apart.”

Then you went to meet the engineers for the next race strategies. 

That night as you laid down at home, you thought that you’d never compete with Fernando solely because he was Flavio’s favorite. If it ever came to Flavio to decide whether you would win or Fernando would win, he’d always pick Fernando. You could’ve been fighting for the championship this year, he had promised you, instead you were being used as a step in Fernando’s path of glory, when you could be fairly racing him for the championship. You’d always come second to him there. That was also the moment you stopped seeing Flavio as a friend, and confined him back to a position of Team Principal.

You reread the Sauber proposal that came to you that year to start racing for them the next season, tempted to just go and make your name somewhere else. Somewhere where you’d be put first.

But deep down, a sense of indebtedness had rooted into your heart ever since the day Fernando told you the truth. You had to pay Flavio back for his trust and for his money, and the only way you thought you could do it was by becoming world champion under his team.

There was still a little kid inside you, a little kid who aspired to prove Fernando wrong, to become a champion and prove to yourself you’re more than him. More than who he wanted you to be, more than a loser.

You turned down the offer from Sauber.

The rest of the season you went almost robotically. You still gave your all every race, but your mood would always damper when you had to follow team orders.

“Ask if me and Fernando can switch, I’m faster!” You said on the radio. You kept driving, Fernando a little less than two seconds in front of you, but you were getting closer and would catch up to him in two laps.

“Negative, protect his position.”

“There’s a McLaren right behind me! They’ll pass us both!”

“Negative, team orders.”

You swallowed and held your position, trying to maintain your P2 and Fernando P1. But when the McLaren got close to you, they managed to pass you after a brief battle, going for Fernando a couple of laps later.

Later, you stood on the podium, looking ahead knowing that P3 could’ve been a P1 if they had let you fight for it. You didn’t look at Fernando on the other side of the podium, you just stood there, eyes watery. You pretended to take part throwing champagne for a few seconds, forcing a smile knowing that it would look bad not to.

The post race interviews were torture, and you wanted to go home and vent to your parents.

“How has it been to manage your friendship with Fernando outside the track?” A reporter asked, and your smile disappeared from your face.

“We were never really friends,” you shrugged, annoyed, you added “Are there any questions about racing instead of my personal life?” The reporter was silent, visibly taken aback by your responses, you had rarely been hostile toward a journalist before, you knew he would have a field day with just those replies, especially when your PR manager gave you a hard stare, “No? Thank you, see you around.”

You finished P2 in the race Fernando became champion for the second time. When you got out of the car, you watched as Flavio and Fernando hugged, jumping from the ground and celebrating. The number one and your team principal. After the podium ceremony, you didn’t bother to stay to spray champagne, just leaving and going straight out.

You got a couple more proposals from other teams, and you were tempted, until Flavio told you Fernando was leaving for McLaren the next year and offered you an extension. You took it under the condition to become the number one driver now that Fernando was out of the picture.

A part of you mourned the death of the dream, the one you had at fourteen to become teammates with your best friend. So many things had happened in between everything, now you would miss it. Only the good, not the bad and ugly. You wish you could go back in time, redo everything, and never allow yourself to lose your best friend on the way.

The next year you ended up striking an unexpected friendship with Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and eventually the two rookies Lewis and Sebastian, who had been very vocal about being fans of yours.

You didn’t go back to talking with Fernando. You didn’t try and he didn’t either. It felt like the bridges were too far burned to recover.

One day as you walked out of the garage, you saw Fernando with a girl on the opposite side. She was clinging to his side, whispering. You knew he had his fair share of fun with grid girls but he never invited them to watch the race from his garage. You wondered if he was dating again, after a couple of years being nothing more than a player. You also wonder why it made a pang of pain flare through your chest.

You don’t linger too much. He had no reason to tell you. You weren’t even friends anymore.

You moved on, as much as you could. And eventually, you met Kaka, or Ricardo, as you preferred calling him. He was a footballer, a big name in the sport, playing for a big team in Italy. You actually met him at a gala party, the both of you being silly introverts, bumping into each other when trying to find a way out. You two ended up talking for hours on the balcony, watching the city lights.

He reminded you of Nano before Formula 1.

And you actually wanted to smash your own head against the handrail as you thought that.

After exchanging numbers and calling a couple of times, you managed to convince Ricardo to come to a Grand Prix. His presence was calm, funny without being mean, and so gentle. It was actually the calm between the storm your life and job was.

You were pacing around outside the motorhomes to try and see if he had arrived yet, since the last you had talked to him was when he was on his way. While waiting, your eyes found Fernando’s on the opposite side in front of McLaren, he was sitting down with his girlfriend telling him something. You stared at him for a whole minute, and for a brief moment, the anger left his eyes for something softer, something like-

“Hi, minha linda!” Ricardo showed up out of nowhere, and he hugged you so tight he actually swiped you off your feet.

Once the surprise passed, you hugged him back, your fingers finding their way through his hair. And he laughed, spinning you before putting you down. You talked for a bit, your face lit up as he told you about his day.

Your eyes unconsciously turned to Fernando, because you could feel that he had been staring at you for as long as Ricardo was there. His face was back to anger.

“You want me to give you the grand tour?” You offered, just so you could escape the weight of Fernando’s glare.

You took Ricardo by the hand and showed him all around, even introducing him to part of your team. After that race when you placed third, Ricardo invited you to a date, the first official one. After a couple of months and a few kisses, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You only hesitated for a second before smiling and squealing a yes.

Being the main driver of your team allowed you to live an entirely different season as a racer. You didn’t want to be arrogant, but you had it in the bag. You had the best car, the best engines, and just the perfect amount of boldness. Add insane strategies, and you were unstoppable.

Despite Fernando being your close rival on track, he was way too busy beefing with Lewis, his surprisingly great rookie teammate.

During summer break that year, you were on a trip to Brazil with Ricardo, but still, the night of July 29th, you got up at two a.m., slowly went to the fridge, where you got an ice cream pint. With a spoon, you sat on the handrail in the balcony, and watched the waves breaking on the beach a few meters away.

It was weird keeping the ice cream tradition alone, but you supposed it was even weirder not keeping the tradition. Staring at the stars, you wondered if Fernando had any ice cream to celebrate his birthday that day.

“Hi,” you heard Ricardo behind you, his hands sneaking around your middle and he hugged you from behind, laying his head against your shoulder, “everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted a little treat,” you mumbled, closing the lid on the ice cream, because a selfish part of you didn’t want to share the tradition with anyone other than Fernando. It was silly and stupid, and still… you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the ice cream back in the freezer and smiled at Ricardo as he pulled you into his arms and carried you back to bed.

You came back from summer break with a renewed sense of focus. Deep down you knew that was your season. Your season to become world champion, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. As you won the first two races after summer, you became first in the standings, this sense of purpose being the one thing motivating you every weekend to give your best.

It was Interlagos that year when you needed only a podium to become World Champion, pretty much the same as Fernando two years before. The race was tough, and it felt like Fernando was out to get you, especially in a moment right in the middle of the race, when you were behind him in P3 and he tried to brake test you again, but this time you were quick to react, avoiding his rear and using his own dirty trick against him, turning sharply to overtake him from outer side, moving past him fast enough to gain some precious couple of seconds.

After that, you managed to smoothly overtake the P1 with a carefully planned pit stop that allowed you to come out first. Later on, you saw a crash, nothing too bad, but you found out it was Fernando and Webber.

“Are they ok?” You asked via radio to your engineer.

“Yes, they are already back on the pitlane.”

You sighed and focused back to your race, keeping your P1 safe, and going smoothly to take the checkered flag.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You’re a Formula One World Champion!”

You felt the tears coming down and dampening your balaclava, as you took one last lap to parc ferme, waving at the crowd that went insane.

It was like a huge weight was lifted from your chest. Because you were now world champion. You were there, and you deserved to be there, among the best. You didn’t need to prove yourself anymore, and you had finally paid Flavio back.

You jumped out of the car straight into your team, jumping with them, and Flavio ran up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Jenson also found you and hugged you firmly, patting your back and Nico also hugged you, both of them were on the podium with you.

As you looked down from the podium, with a watery, emotional smile, you saw your dad crying like a baby and clapping his hands. Unconsciously, your eyes looked for Fernando, silly hoping it mattered something to him, that at least in the name of your former friendship, he would be there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and you felt like that was another nail in the coffin of your friendship.

Deciding to forget it, you drank champagne straight from the bottle, laughing as both Nico and Jenson paired up to drown you in champagne, looking happy for you.

After talking to your mom on the phone, you stood up, taking your bag and going out to look for your dad. You didn’t make it very far, as you came out in the hallway, you found Fernando, leaning against the wall. You paused, looking up to him while your heartbeat went up.

“I’m happy for you,” he whispered. And you wanted to believe it really badly, but thinking about him brake testing you during the race, trying to take you out, made you roll your eyes at him.

“Sure, you are,” you said sarcastically. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed you didn’t believe him, “my debt is over now.”

“What?” He frowned, confused.

“I just paid Flavio for his investment,” you explained, “I’m not just here because you asked him to support me, I’m a damn great driver. I’m here because I deserve it, not because you took me out of pity.”

Fernando stared at you completely shocked at your words, something painful stabbing at his chest. He never thought you’d think like that over disgusting words he said in a moment of anger. Words that never meant anything to him, that he didn’t even believe in himself. The hurt in your eyes was the same from the day he said the words, when you cried looking into his eyes and telling him he was dead to you.

You walked past him and away. He wanted to shout that he never meant those words, that you were so much more, so much better. But you just left. Fernando followed you outside, trying to catch you and explain himself, maybe fix things between you, making peace.

But as he got outside, he paused, seeing you jumping in your boyfriend’s arms, laughing at something he whispered to you. Fernando swallowed, closing his fist and jealousy burned through his limbs, with such force that it felt like a fever.

Right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, Ferrari got in touch with you, offering a two year contract to become teammates with Kimi Raikkonen and drive for what was one of, if not the most classic team in Formula 1. After negotiations, it was a no brainer. You didn’t owe Renault anything any more. And that’s what propelled you to meet with Flavio that winter break in a cafeteria in Monaco. When you had called, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, which was convenient.

After pleasantries and small talk, you were ready to start, but Flavio cut you off without noticing.

“I have to tell you something,” he started, carefully, “Fernando is coming back to Renault next year.”

You froze for a second, not wanting to think too much about the implications of that. The fact that Flavio was willing to force you and Fernando to be teammates again even after the catastrophic ending you had before. Sighing, you covered your face for a second.

“I know you have reservations, but I’ve talked with Fernando and he’s willing to-”

“I’m going to Ferrari.”

And Flavio understood, after talking for a while. He knew Ferrari was most drivers' ultimate dream, and you weren’t immune to that either. Unfortunately for you, Fernando released the news he was going back to Renault a week before Ferrari announced you, and the media had a field day with that, tabloids and media outlets doing numbers of articles about you avoiding being teammates with Fernando again, since he was coming back and you were conveniently leaving almost at the same time.

Your races with Fernando kept being dangerous, one always trying to one up the other, dangerous moves and overtakes, close calls of crashing into each other, and more and more jabs publicly. The attacks at each other never stopped, and the media seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it ever so often.

One occasion, you were going for a win, and the only thing between you and that damn P1 was Fernando Alonso. So you kept your P2, biding your time as you tried to close the gap, leaving your chance at overtaking for the last few laps. When a fast turn came, you advanced, overtaking him, Fernando tried to defend his position, but you were getting the lead, and both of you were in high speed. Someone had to back out, otherwise you two would crash. But you were feeding off of anger and hurt, and you didn’t back down well into the turn, but suddenly, Fernando slowed down, giving up defending. You took the P1 and after a few laps, the checkered flag. You knew on the podium that Fernando was seething, his face didn’t hide that. Later, at an interview, someone brought up the dirty move.

“So, a very dangerous move at turn 2 during lap 47, no?” The reporter asked, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I thought it was a pretty common battle, no?” You said, a condescending tone imitating him.

“Well, it could’ve caused you both to crash.”

“I took a risk, either I would pass and win, or we would both crash and DNF. Alonso was wise and went for the safest option.” I gave the reporter a fake smile.

You knew that answer would piss Fernando off, and a part of you knew he deserved it. Sometimes you acted on pure rage and pettiness, feral and way more aggressive against Fernando on track than you really needed to be. But he just pissed you off. Walking around with his model girlfriend, his attacks at your racing abilities, his pretty eyes that always seemed to find yours at the most inconvenient times.

Then, the race weekend would end, and everything that was left was shame. Your burning shame every time your mom’s eyes shone when she asked about Fernando, hoping you two would have made peace. You, looking away from her face every time you told her you knew nothing about Alonso because you didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Later that year, after your two year anniversary with Ricardo, you accidentally found a ring box in his suitcase. A proposal ring, a beautiful big diamond ring, probably worth a small fortune. And you tried to feel happy about it, but you could only find dread in your heart. Despite loving Ricardo, you knew you didn’t love him as much as you could. And certainly not as much as she loved you. You didn’t love him as much as you loved-

Closing your eyes, you also closed your heart, and after that just like the coward you were, you broke up with Ricardo the kindest way you could. He was confused, because your relationship was tranquil, without many problems. It broke your heart to break his heart, but you couldn’t lead him on, you knew Ricardo was husband material, and the earlier you let him go, the earlier he would find his true happiness.

Ultimately, you decided to only pursue love after your Formula One career. Having a bit of fun here and there, and a couple of casual relationships even with other drivers, but nothing serious or public. When you found out Fernando was single again, a flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but when you saw him go back to his playboy ways… It died down.

Sometimes you would dream of a different life, of one you never lost your best friend… or even better, one that you never had to suppress the love you felt for him. And sometimes it felt too much, like all this love was just filling up your hollow heart, filling up until it overflowed, until you felt like you were drowning in it, because there was nowhere for this love to go. And you wondered, what do I do with this love, there's no one to give it to, there's no recipient to put it. So you would just ground your teeth and bear it, holding onto anger because that much love, that much longing did nothing but cause you pain.

Every time someone mentioned him outside race weeks, you felt ashamed.

Despite being in a top team like Ferrari, you’d only get a few wins, and some podiums here and there, so it wasn’t like you didn’t achieve anything. But you were a woman so it was obviously not enough, and the media started questioning your career and your place in Formula One.

After two years of you driving for Ferrari, Domenicalli, your team principal, sat you down to let you know Fernando Alonso would be joining the team the next year, and you bit the inside of your cheek, considering just retiring. The criticism was getting to you, and the perspective of living hell with Fernando as your teammate was a broken heart all over again.

When an opportunity arose to drive for Red Bull Racing, with a two year contract, you didn’t think twice before accepting. It would be your chance to turn the tide in your career.

It sent the motorsport world into a frenzy when your new team announced you and a week later Ferrari announced Fernando as their future driver. The same narrative of you running away from him was passed ahead. And of course, it got to the paddock. Most drivers that were close to you actually congratulated you, but of course, nothing was ever good for Fernando. And despite not fully talking to him, he was always willing to throw a mean comment at you any given day.

“And people said you’re washed” Fernando said right after the news broke, the second to last race of that season, his voice dripping with venom. You knew it was a backhanded compliment, he always did that when he wanted to get a rise out of you. He smirked, waiting for your feral clapback, as you always had one on the tip of your tongue.

But when he looked back at you, your face was stony, and you were looking ahead with your chin raised. You didn’t even look at Fernando, nor answered his taunting. You pretended he wasn’t there but he noticed your eyes were misty.

That had been a low blow, even for him. He didn’t know shit about your feelings regarding your career, but he knew exactly how the world had been treating it, and it made you burn with shame that he could add insult to injury this easily. You wondered why he would say something like that if, just like you, it had been years since the last time he was champion of the world. Two years pushing yourself to the maximum so you could achieve your second championship.

Fernando had been your best friend for so long, he knew exactly what buttons to push when he wanted to hurt you.

When someone else arrived, greeting you, you cleared your throat briefly before answering and plastering a smile that never reached your eyes.

“Are you running away from me?” Fernando cornered you later that same day.

“What?” You paused.

“I went back to Renault and you left, now I’m going to Ferrari and you’re leaving,” he shrugged. You scoffed.

“I’m not sure if you know, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Fernando.”

“Well, that’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

Fernando paused for a second, his eyes searching yours, he looked vulnerable, open like he hadn’t been in so long. He looked every bit your best friend from years before.

“I miss you, I-” He started, then cleared his throat.

“I miss the old you,” You swallowed a whole bunch of your pride just to be able to say those words.

“Things are different now…” Fernando started, his eyes full of hoping, of longing, “We could- maybe we could-”

“Fernando, we’re too far gone, what we said- what we did…” You muttered, feeling a lump in your throat, “how do one come back from that?”

“We could restart. Try again-”

“You lost me forever that day, Fernando.” You muttered, the tears holding on to your eyelashes. You didn’t need to specify the day, he knew, he had seen in your eyes the moment he lost you, “I spent so long hearing your voice in my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I shouldn’t be here, and I- I hated you that day. And I had to hold onto this hate, because the alternative was overwhelming sadness.”

There was a numbing silence for a couple of minutes, as you stared down at your own feet, trying to stop all the feelings you spent years carefully locking away from breaking free. So much had happened, you believed you and Fernando were too far to recover now.

“I’m a woman here, the first and only woman in so long, and the whole world was against me. You have no idea how it felt that my best friend, the person I trusted the most, was also against me,” You shook your head, feeling the tears drop.

“I’m sorry, Nena… I’ve never- I’ve never meant any of that.” He muttered, and you didn’t look at him to see if he was being genuine. You had formed walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartbreak, and you now had a hard time believing him.

“There are some things… that are not meant to be.” You didn’t look back at Fernando after you said that, choosing to walk away with this broken heart feeling ever present.

It was hard to keep going everyday. You had always faced backlash for being a woman in Formula 1, and you were used to it. But the media took a turn over the next few years. When you didn’t win more championships, when years passed and you were still there, along with other champions and future champions. They started to call you old, washed, telling you to retire and placing bets on when you’d lose your seat. It was baffling because it had been six years since your championship, but it had been seven years since Fernando’s, but still, you were the only one whose spot was questioned all the time. It was unfair, and whenever they came up to you talking about it, you’d ask them if they’d ask the same to older drivers or other champions. They would leave you alone for a week and then come back stronger, ready to throw your whole career under the bus.

Finally, you got another chance at the championship in 2013, after an unbelievable start of the season with five consecutive wins. That had put you first in the standings for the championship, and from there on, your team molded the season around you. Smooth sailing through the season, you became world champion in Suzuka, way too far ahead in the championship to anyone be able to catch up to you.

When you stood on the podium that night, you cried happy tears. You had once again proved wrong years of demerit from the world. As you looked down to search for your family, your eyes found Fernando right beside them, a proud, emotional look on his face as he kept a hand over his heart, listening to your national anthem.

He nodded at you with a small smile, and a part of you healed a little bit.

You enjoyed a couple of days of pure bliss after becoming world champion. Parties, celebrations and trips, they were all you did for the next few weeks.

When the FIA Prize Giving ceremony came, you had another bombshell to drop at the world. You were the most stunning you ever felt that year when you arrived at the ceremony, in a beautiful dark blue dress with little crystals all over the bodice, a beautiful hairstyle and even more beautiful makeup. Never in your entire career in Formula 1, you had felt so fulfilled, so happy.

Hearing your name being called as the winner, the number one, was different this time, and had much more weight, and it made your heart burst with happiness. As you walked up the stairs to the stage, receiving your trophy, you stopped by the mic.

“Thank you so much. I’d like to thank my family for supporting me from the beginning, my team for making the perfect season, and the perfect car for me to be able to achieve this. I’d like to thank all my teammates that, in one way or another, taught me some valuable lessons as a racer. Thanks to Flavio for taking a chance on my career when probably no one else would.” You said, with a smile. You took a good look around, all the people in this sport who made Formula 1 the most important category of motorsport, all your peers, all the teams. “I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1, as of right now.”

There was a wave of shock and loud gasps in the whole room, flashes and flashes bulbing harder than before, journalists scrambling to take notes… But you kept smiling, hand firm around your trophy as you let the news settle down before speaking again.

“In 2007 I wanted to pay Flavio back for giving me the opportunity to be here today. That debt was paid that same year. After that year I wanted to win for myself, to write my name in the history books, and my dream is now realized. I feel like I should move on and make space for new upcoming talents.” Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, but you smiled, the first genuine smile in a few years.

Fernando felt his heart drop at your words. Things weren’t supposed to go like this, you two should be best friends, drive together, retire together. Go down in history together.

“I’m grateful for everything this sport provided me, the adventures, traveling around the world, the people I met and the people I lost,” there was a calm pause, and Fernando wondered if you were talking about him too, “Now it’s time to go and achieve new dreams. Thank you very much.”

You turned around and walked away under the applause.

Later, after the ceremony was done, you were getting ready to leave when Fernando came to find you. He was dressed in a beautiful suit, looking like a million dollar man.

“Nena…”

It made you pause. It had been a while since he called you like that with that specific tone. 

“What? Came here to gloat?” You couldn’t help but be defensive, worried.

“What?”

“I knew you’d be one of the happiest when I retired.”

“No, I would not-”

“You would, Fernando. You did. Many times you said I was done, that my prime was over, that I should retire…” 

“I never thought you’d easily give up!” He shouted at you, “Like you did in 2006, not competing against me.”

“That’s because they didn’t let me compete! Do you think I couldn’t have competed with you back in ‘06? I could, but every time, they would tell me to back off, to let you pass, to not fight you, to not overtake you-” You threw at his face, because you wouldn’t stand there and let him look down on you like that. You refused to back down now that you were finally free. “Pat threatened my seat if disobeyed team orders.”

“What?! Why did you never tell me that?” Fernando looked shocked. His fighting stance was completely gone now.

“You were going to be World Champion again. I would never take that from you,” You whispered, voice failing.

“Nena…” He said, like he wanted to drop everything. “Please, don’t leave. If Red Bull don’t want you, you can find another spot with another team, we can think of something.”

“Fernando, I’m not leaving because the team doesn't want me. In fact, they offered me a 3 year extension.”

“That’s not how it was supposed to go, remember? We planned that-” His voice was kinder than it had been to you in many years, “We would go down in history together. Win together, retire together.”

“When push comes to shove, only one wins… We learned that the hard way.” I say, with a sad smile, “Life doesn’t always go as planned. And I got everything I could ever want from Formula 1. Now it’s time for new stuff.”

“What new stuff?”

“I want to have a family, Fernando. People don’t stick around long for this lifestyle, you know that-” You shook your head.

With one last look at Fernando, your eyes watered, and you walked away.

Sitting on the porch, you looked up at the sky, thinking of what’s next for you. It had been months since you announced your retirement from Formula 1. The new season had already begun. It was your birthday, a refreshing new one.

You heard steps coming closer and your heartbeat sped up as you saw Fernando walking up to you. He sat down by your side, holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. He handed one to you and in silence, you started eating ice cream.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

“Was it hard to find me?” You asked, with a tentative smile.

“It only took me my whole life to find you again…” He said, wistfully, his eyes shining under moonlight and you didn’t know if those were unshed tears or not, “my best friend, my nena, my girl…”

“I’ve always been here. Right here.” You said, eyes watering. You weren’t sure you could explain what that here meant, but somehow you knew he would understand.

Fernando took your hand, gently placing it on his chest, right above his heart.

“Right here,” he whispered, pressing his hand above yours, over his beating heart, “you were always here.”

Then, he kissed you. For the first time in more than a decade, for what felt like the first time for both of you. As his other hand pulled you closer, the kiss deepened, like a prayer and a promise. Both of you knew there was a lot of resentment to navigate through, and a lot of feelings you’d both have to unravel and understand. But there was one thing that was always there, through hate, anger and hurt… And it was love, unshaken, steadfast love.

As you broke apart, Fernando pulled you into him, hugging you tight for a few minutes, before pulling away to hold your face with both hands, his eyes looking into yours with so much devotion it melted everything away.

“We will be alright.”

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[magics-neptunes-things]

Calm After Storm

Hi guys!

It was way too long since I didn't write for Leah, so here is a sweet little thing.

I'm so happy Arsenal won yesterday, even if I almost cry three times and had two hearts attacks. And of course I think about Frida, hopping she's ok :(

TW : Lover fight, Angst.

______________________________________________________________

Leah is intense. Always have, always been and that’s how you love her. You love how much she can be passionate about everything she’s doing. You love her love for football, for her family, for her friends. She is always here to help her relatives for everything. She’s here for her grandmother when she needs help for groceries, she’s here when her mother can’t walk their dog, she’s here to get her brother to the airport at 8 in the morning even if she played a game the night before, she’s here to support her teammates through injuries.

She’s everywhere she can be, at every time.

You, in another hand, you’re calmer. You’re a little shy and need some time to observe the people you don’t know before opening up. You are as affectionate and attentive to your loved one than Leah, but in a more discreet way.

Those differences are the meanly reasons of why you didn’t understand at first why Leah seems interested in you. You met her thanks to your friend Lotte and Leah took the time to talk to you every time you came to watch Lotte plays. When Leah did her ACL, she attends almost every game, and you talk a lot during this time. That’s where she asks you out for the first time, after having asking Lotte if you are into girls.

You said yes, obviously.

If you didn’t think that Leah must be interested in you, you were deeply charmed by the personality of the blonde. She’s funny, intelligent, great to talk to and you have a lot in common. And yes, you must admit that you find her unbelievably attractive. Like almost half of the population but hey, you’re just a girl.

Leah kissed you at your second date. She asks you at the fourth to be her girlfriend and introduce you to her family after six months of dating. Of course, they already have known about you. And you knew them thanks to the Arsenal VIP room. But it was the first official diner with the Williamson and relatives.

You are not living together for now, but you find yourself a lot at each other’s house. You love being at Leah’s, everything smells like her. But she loves being at your house too. At Christmas, Leah gave you the keys of her house and you gave her the keys of your flat.

You love her, a lot. And you know that she loves you back, even if those precious words were never pronounced to each other. At least you both know that you care for each other. A lot.

That doesn’t mean you never fight, to be honest. Not later than yesterday, you had a really stupid argument about something really stupid. But with Leah’s stress about football and her comeback and your proper tiredness thanks to your job, it was sometimes happening. Some means words were exchanged, and Leah ended up leaving your flat, slamming your door.

Stubbornly, you decided not to write to her. In your opinion, she was wrong, and it was even more wrong to leave the way she did. You were hurt a little bit too, by the argument and after by the fact that Leah didn’t call you or at least send you a message. Not the same night, not the day after.

Almost two days later, you still didn’t have talk to each other. You ask casually to Lotte how Leah is doing when you have her on the phone. But your cousin answers that she was Switzerland in your love life and that she didn’t want to be involved in anything. Unless it’s for marriage or children. So, basically, you don’t know how Leah is today.

You saw the video and the pictures posted by Arsenal’s admin on Instagram, but that’s all. You choose not to go to the game, not sure that Leah wants you here. It’s an important game though, so you decide to watch it on TV. Leah’s starting and it’s strange to see your girlfriend’s face on your TV screen. She’s focused, her glare well fixed on her face. Her blue eyes are piercing her opponents.

But that doesn’t help Arsenal to win today. It wasn’t a big loss, but it was a loss anyway. Leah seems particularly sad, and you feel your heart cracks. So, you decided to jump in a jean, in your car and to go to Arsenal’s stadium. Leah gave you a pass to access to the parking lot, so you just use it to get in it.

You know that Leah went to the game with Beth, so you’re not surprised not to see her car. But, when you get out from yours, you can’t help but feel a little bit uncomfortable. What if Leah doesn’t want you here? Maybe your idea wasn’t as good as you thought at first. You almost decided to leave when Leah passes the door.

She’s looking at the ground, not listening to Beth or Laia Codina who are walking with her. The other blond spots you first and elbows Leah who looks at her. Beth then points in your direction and when Leah spots you too, she seems as surprised as she is relieved.

You don’t move, only waving shyly at her. She gives you a little smile in return, turning into Beth to says her something. You don’t know what it is, but Beth rolls her eyes and push Leah in her direction with her hand before mimic a kick in the ass.

“Hello” you say softly when Leah is next to you.

“Hi” breaths Leah.

You reach out to take her bag, putting it on the back seat of your car. Then you went to opens Leah’s door, but you cross her eyes, and she seems so upset that you can’t do nothing against that. So, you reach out to her again, so that she can grasp it this time. And, when Leah almost jumps on your hand, you take her delicately against you. She hugs you back, putting her face in your neck almost immediately.

“You played good” you whisper after some seconds.

“You weren’t here to watch” Leah objects, her face still in your neck.

“I watched you on TV.”

At your explanation, Leah pushes herself even more against you and you tighten your arms against her. No one like to lose obviously, but you’ve never seen someone with such an ability to take all the blame on themselves. You know that tomorrow, Leah would pass half of her day watching the game, analyzing her mistakes and noting them in her notebook. You hate that damn notebook.

“You still watched me?”

You can’t help but smile, hearing how small your girlfriend is when asks you that question. Leah Williamson, captain of England and Euro champion looks like a little girl right now. No one ever saw this part of Leah, or her mother only maybe. But you do.

“Of course.”

You could have tease her and answering that you wanted to watch Katie, but it wasn’t really the good timing. Leah takes a deep breath and release you, looking attentively at your face before trying another smile. You smile back and stroke her hair before nodding at your car.

“Can I take you home?”

“I’d love to.”

You don’t really talk during the journey to your house, but Leah captures your hand in hers almost immediately. She strokes your fingers and plays with your ring all along, looking out by the window. You let her, knowing with time that she needs some quiet sometimes to figuring things out.

When you get out of your car, you take Leah’s bag with one hand, your girlfriend’s hand with the other and go to the ascensor. In it, you can smell Leah’s shampoo and that’s make you smile. The blonde surprise your smile in the mirror of the ascensor and you just shrug. She doesn’t have the time to question you though, the doors opening just after.

“Do you want to order pizzas? Or I can go to Tesco to take you a ham sandwich if you prefer?”

“Nah, pizza is good Babe. Don’t worry”

You let Leah orders your diner, using this time to wash her dirty laundry before heading back to the living room. Leah had made herself comfortable, lying on your couch. But she stands when she spots you, making you frown.

“We need to talk. About our fight.”

You feel your face fall, hopping to never discuss your fight again. You hate fighting with Leah, and you hate the way you feel after. You were hopping that you can have like a silence contract to forget it. Plus, the We need to talk sentence is never really good. But Leah seems to understand really fast what’s happening in your head, because she takes your hand when she sits down on the couch again, taking you with her. You are almost sitting on her lap when she talks again.

“I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I don’t even remember why the fight start, but I shouldn’t have left like that. It was childish and I’m really sorry. Are you still angry with me?”

You shook your head negatively, relieved to learn that Leah doesn’t want to break up or something like that.

“No, I’m not. To be honest, the same night I was more sad to sleep without you than angry.”

“Why didn’t write me?” Leah asks with curiosity.

“I wasn’t sure you’d answer me and I was afraid I’d be even sadder.”

Leah sighs softly, stroking your back. Her eyes are looking at you with intensity and you bite unconsciously your lip.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Leah asks you soon after.

You nod, taking advantage of your position to cuddle against her. Leah puts her chin on top of your head, and you can hear her heart when she talks again.

“I was sad too. I was hopping you will come to the game but when I didn’t see you, I realize how much I fucked up. And after the game, all I was thinking is that I will have to deal with the loss all alone. Almost everyone was going home to their partner and mine was probably angry at me. I just wanted to go home and hide under the cover. When I saw you in the parking lot, I was thinking of the best way to apologize and get you back. I knew it was my fault, but it didn’t ease the sadness of it, it was even worse I think.”

“Don’t say that” you mumble “It was my fault too. We were both arguing.”

Leah hums and you look up at her before kissing her cheek. It was nice to know how much your presence means to Leah whether it’s during the games or at home. You love being here for her obviously.

“But we’re good now, right?”

Leah smiles, with her real smile and you feel your heart fluttered.

“We’re good, my girl.”

Then you kiss her for the first time since the fight and you get lost in your embrace. The kiss is sweet, tender and you feel like floating somewhere above the ground. Maybe your exchange will change in something more passionate if your pizzas weren’t already here.

You eat them in front of the TV, but still cuddling against each other. Leah finishes her pizza first and takes you more against her soon after. She kisses your cheek several times, not really interested in the movie she picks before. When you feel teeth against the skin of your neck, you decide to forget your meal to roll on your girlfriend.

Leah smirks, happy to have all your attention and catch your lips in an intense kiss. You whimper, surprise by the intensity of it but didn’t waist time to answer it.

“Thanks for coming for me tonight.”

Leah whispers it way later, when you were under the cover of your bed, almost asleep. The pizzas were eaten, you forgot the movie to better activities and after that you took a hot bath.

 Leah’s body is warm against yours and you hum at first for only answer.

“My pleasure” you mumble, half-hiding your face in her.

You yawn and Leah start scratching your neck, just like she knows you like. You only need thirty seconds to fall asleep after that. Leah needs a little more time, but she watches you sleep to pass time. She knows she’s lucky to have you and she swears to herself not to leave you angry anymore.

[starlostseungmin]

husband!han

✰ notes: posting this a day early since i’ll be out of town please enjoy <33 not proofread. REBLOGGING, COMMENTS AND LEAVING TAGS are highly appreciated! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin （ han ）changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Han who asked the baker and chef to put the ring inside the cake. You thought it was kind of old school and yet you cried when you saw the ring. He went down on one knee in front of the crowd as the waiter/waitresses came for assistance. “Will you be the mother of Bbama?” “Yes!” 

Husband Han who wrote a song that he’d use on the day of his wedding proposal. The lyrics consist of words about his feelings, how deep his love is for you, how thankful he is, and how you are his favorite person apart from his Minho hyung. He went on the small stage of the restaurant and grabbed a small piece of paper so he wouldn’t forget what he had written. 

Husband Han whom you can order around. He complains but still does whatever you ask for. Sometimes he just obeys quietly or if he’s in the mood, he looks like a kid who’s happy to help his parents with that adorable and proud smile plastered on his face.

Husband Han who loves to stay home and watch your favorite movies then proceeds to cuddle you all day. He also buys things that will serve good for your convenience and cause less effort. He is a home buddy for a reason. 

Husband Han who is happy as a clam when you visit him while he’s at work especially when you bring him and his members with a ton of food.

Husband Han who is a loud introvert and hits high notes effortlessly on a random Wednesday morning. 

Husband Han who overreacts, and screams at any small inconvenience when he gets a chance. Hyunjin would be the one to cover his mouth because his ears suffer the most. 

Husband Han who has a lot of feelings and takes everything to heart (playfully) during a nonsense argument and will say some things nonstop until both of you just laugh them off. Yet also the type to be calm and straightforward that would pierce your heart if it’s serious especially when he does have a point. 

Husband Han who sometimes doesn’t listen to you and is stubborn. 

Husband Han who apologizes hours later after thoroughly thinking of what he did or said wrong during the fight. He would hug you tightly when he sees you crying and say “I love you” instead of  “I’m sorry.”

Husband Han who listens attentively to your worries and gives you useful advice. If he feels like you don’t want to hear anything and just sit there in silence, he will hold your hand or bring you into his arms while kissing the crown of your head. 

Husband Han whose love languages are physical touch, quality time, and words of affirmation (through the songs he wrote). 

Husband Han who gets jealous when you pay too much attention to BBama instead of him. He would sulk at the corner and refuse to talk unless you baby him until he decides to forgive you. 

Husband Han who gets sentimental when sad so you let him lay on you and bury his face on your neck while you hum his favorite tune or just play with his hair while whispering some things that he needs to hear. He loves it when you do that. 

Husband Han who loves cheesecakes especially when you’re the one who made them. He’d devour them immediately with some iced coffee he got from Seungmin.

Husband Han who gets round when he eats something or just mainly his cheeks are the cutest that you want to kiss, pinch, or suddenly goes nom nom nom. 

Husband Han who doesn’t mind you wearing his clothes. He loves them on you. 

Husband Han whose voice you want to listen to all night after a long day because it’s soothing to hear and brings you comfort, especially when he is talking softly and in a gentle manner. 

Husband Han who gets undeniably shy when you kiss him, especially when you’re in public. He is all giddy and a blushing mess, expect to make out with him when you get home.

Husband Han who can sleep everywhere that you get jealous but he would ask you first if you want to cuddle until you fall asleep in whatever comfortable place you’re at. 

Husband Han who texts or calls you before going home from work just to ask how your day went and if you want him to buy something. Sometimes you do it the other way around. It’s a must in this marriage. 

Husband Han who spoils you a lot. 

Husband Han who respects whatever decision you make, especially when it comes to the thought of having kids. Just like anyone else, he doesn’t pressure you and wait until you’re the first one to initiate the topic. 

Husband Han who promised to love you and never leave until death do you part.

Husband Han who thinks that having you in his life is the greatest gift he could ever have and the best thing that ever happened. 

Husband Han whom you love, protect, and spend the rest of your life with along with Bbama. 

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©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Twelve - Beautiful day for a wedding

♡♡♡

The invitation arrived in your mail the very next day. You looked down at the writing of Violet Bridgerton on the letter. Daphne and Simon were to be married the very next day.

Your mother ushered you to the Modiste for a dress. You didn't have time for a new one, so she altered one you owned already. You bought a couple of new accessories and headed home.

You did not get to see the Bridgertons at all.

When you arrived at the church with your mother, you found yourself almost shocked at how few people were present, but you also supposed this was best.

On the duke's side were Lady Danbury and Will and his wife. On Daphne's was her family and you.

Benedict looked up just as you entered and smiled at you. He sat with Colin on a pew behind his mother. You smiled back and found your seat with Hyacinth and Gregory. Hyacinth made Gregory swap seats with her ao she could side beside you.

"Isn't this exciting?" She asks softly.

"Very," you smile.

"Daphne will look so beautiful in her dress," Hyacinth smiles.

"I'm certain of it."

You glance up to see Benedict still looking at you. When your eyes meet his, he turns away to talk to Colin again. You're confused by this strange little exchange, but don't dwell on it.

Violet spots you and waves at you with a smile. You return both gestures, and she turns back to Lady Danbury.

The duke stands quietly at the altar, awaiting his bride. As you look at him, you wonder what he must be thinking. From what you understand, this wasn't exactly ideal, but somehow you know, deep down in his heart, he loves Daphne.

He just needs to admit to himself.

His display to the queen, going by what Violet had said, was the most romantic declaration of love there could have ever been. You knew it had to have been true to some extent.

The sound of the door opening has everyone turning to look. You all rise when you see Anthony and the bride enter. You feel yourself gasp softly as you look at her.

Flawless.

Daphne looked beautiful. She was exactly what a bride should be on her special day. Anthony led her down the aisle. As she passed you, she gave you a small smile. She looked like she was putting on a brave face.

You smiled back and watched her pass.

Simon turns to look at his soon-to-wife. Even he couldn't deny how beautiful she is, surely.

Violet was trying so hard not to cry.

All of Daphne's family looked at her so proudly. This was the bottom she had been waiting for. The moment she would become a wife to the man she loved.

Though she had expected love to be true and pure like her parents had, for she knew the truth behind this wedding.

She practically forced Simon into it.

Anthony smiles at his sister and hands her over to Simon Bassett. The two stand beside each other while Anthony joins his mother at her pew.

You all sit.

The ceremony begins.

Hyacinth holds your hand as you watch the couple. You wonder what both of them are thinking.

They face each other. Simon holds out his hand. Daphne places her in it. He removes her long silk glove with ease. Her hand is now bare to him. He places the ring on her finger. Daphne remembers to breathe.

"I now pronounce you man and wife."

They're married.

♡♡♡

The ball after is full of life and cheer. Upbeat music plays on the violins. Though the wedding was an intimate affair, the ball was for all the ton.

Hyacinth and Gregory chase each other through the party while Daphne speaks to some of the guests.

Penelope tries to help Marina find someone other than Colin Bridgerton to marry. After all, Penelope had been in love with Colin for quite some time, though he was unlikely to view her the same way.

You laugh at something Anthony tells you on the other side of the room. Benedict comes over and looks between the two of you. "Is my brother that funny?"

"Quite, actually." You chuckle.

"At least one of us has charisma," Anthony says sipping his drink.

You laugh in the most unladylike manner and try to cover your mouth. Benedict looks at you in shock and in awe. Anthony smiles and shake his head.

"I never knew you could make such a sound," Benedict teases.

"Neither did I until now." You manage to control your laughter, ignoring anyone looking your way.

"A fascinating woman," he grins.

"I'm full of surprises. Even to myself," you smile.

Benedict looks at you curiously.

"Excuse me," Anthony says, nodding at you both and then taking his leave to catch up with someone.

You turn to Benedict only to catch him staring at someone.

"Benedict?"

"Excuse me..." He walks off but is soon cornered by the man he had seen. You sigh and decide to take a stroll of the room instead.

"A most enjoyable party," Henry Granville says to him.

"Indeed."

"Um, Bridgerton... Um... The other night..."

"What happened the other night?" Benedict asks, pretending he did not know. "I do not believe anything happened at all."

Henry chuckles softly. "Very well." A woman joins them, and Granville smiles. "Ah, dearest... I believe you know Mr. Bridgerton."

Benedict stares at the woman, recognising her from the other night. The pretty woman he enjoyed himself with.

"My wife, Mrs Lucy Granville."

Benedict chokes on his wine.

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton." She smiles at him.

He just sips his wine and nods. "Mm."

You catch sight of Daphne staring at her husband, who stands across the room. You find this strange because you were made to believe that newly we'd couples rarely parted from each other on their wedding day. Yet, they were standing so far apart.

You were about to approach Daphne, but Anthony came up beside her. You decide to leave them both alone for now.

The conversation seems short, however, as you catch sight of Daphne fleeing the room moments later.

Violet goes after.

Wedding jitters, perhaps? Not that you would know. Would you ever know?

You find that you have circled the room completely and sigh. Benedict finds his way through the crowd and looks at you. "I apologise for that."

"Something urgent?"

"Well, not exactly. Just saw a face I knew."

"Wonderful. Where you know many faces, I know very few."

Benedict frowns. "Is something the matter?"

"Other than your family and Lady Danbury, I don't really know anyone else. Penelope seems lovely enough, but I do not know her all too well."

Benedict remains confused by you.

"Did something happen?" He asks.

"I have been all but abandoned."

"Nonsense."

You sigh. "Forgive me, I'm just tired. Weddings seem to go on for a while, don't they?"

"Can't say I've been to many."

"Do you think I'll get to experience this one day?" You ask, looking around. "Perhaps not as grand as this, but... you know."

Benedict now looks at you with slight surprise. "Of course, if that is what you want."

"I do want it." You confess quietly. "I'd like to be married one day. Not necessarily to a duke," you chuckle.

Benedict laughs, too.

"But I'd like to be a wife and a mother one day." You watch Hyacinth chase her brother around the guests.

Benedict keeps his gaze on you as he says, "one day it shall be yours."

You smile, keeping your eyes on the youngest two of the Bridgerton family.

Benedict does not drop his gaze from you.

♡♡♡

Violet insists you come them to bid Daphne goodbye as she leaves for her new home. You can only wonder how strange it must be for her to leave a place she calls home.

You stand at the back of the crowd as Daphne says goodbye to her siblings. She even hugs Eloise who looks a little reluctant for her sister to go.

Daphne then turns to you and pulls you into a hug. "Thank you," she whispers.

"What for?"

"Being there." She pulls away to look at you, placing her hands in yours softly.

You smile. "Any time. Write, won't you?"

"Of course. Regularly."

You both smile at each other, and Daphne turns around to climb into the carriage. Simon opens the door for her and climbs in after her. She looks out the window to look at her family and her, now, old home.

You wave along with the others, finding your arm looped with Anthony's as you watch the carriage disappear down the road. When it's gone from sight, Anthony escorts you back inside. Violet gushes about the entire day, and you smile as you go with her to fetch some tea.

With the guests gone, the family can relax. You had been invited to stay behind and keep them company for a while longer, and you agreed.

You sit with Violet and the family as tea is called. Anthony stays a while but then excuses himself. Violet makes a comment about him being unable to leave business even for one day.

A cup of tea is placed on the table beside you. You look up to see Benedict standing beside you with a smile.

You accept the cup and sip it. It's been made the way you like it. Benedict remembered something so mundane about you? Or was it perhaps just chance. You have taken tea with his mother before.

"My daughter, a duchess," Violet sighs happily.

"You must be very proud," you say, smiling.

"Immensly." She sips her tea.

"Daphne looked beautiful," Hyacinth says, smiling at you both from where she sits with Gregory.

"Yes," Violet smiles proudly.

You sip your tea and listen to small babble lf conversation about Daphne and where she will be living now, and what a duchess does. Hyacinth was full of questions.

Eloise slumped down in the seat beside you with a sigh.

"You alright?" You ask. She had a book held tightly to her chest.

"Just glad it's all over." She sighs again.

"Did you not enjoy seeing your sister marry?"

"It's not that. I'm very happy for Daphne and shall miss her tremendously. I'm just tired of all the fuss."

"Will it not be your turn next?" You ask.

"Please don't remind me," she screws her eyes shut and grimaces at the thought.

You chuckle softly and pat her arm gently. "You may change your mind."

"I cannot think of anything worse."

You say no more on the matter. After an hour passes, you take your leave. Your mother would be waiting at home for you. Violet calls for a carriage for you, one of their own. Benedict insists on seeing you out.

You walks down the front steps with him and approaches the carriage. The footman opens the door for you.

"Until next we meet," Benedict smiles at you.

You're about to enter the carriage when you stop and turn to him. "Where do you go at night?" You ask.

Benedict seems to freeze at your question. "Pardon?"

"At night, where do you go?"

His mouth hangs open as he tries to think about how to answer, but you keep talking before he can utter a single word.

"The other night when the duke and Lady Danbury came for dinner, you were not present. I asked Anthony about your whereabouts, but he confessed to not knowing. Not that I expect you all to know each others business all the time, but apparently, you have spent a couple nights away from home now. I am curious. Where do you go?"

Benedict really wasn't sure how to answer. Qould you think poorly of him if he told you the truth.

"Well I--"

"No, never mind. Do not tell me. It was rude of me to ask. I was just curious. Curiosity can be dangerous." You climb up into the carriage.

There's a moment of silence before the footman closes the door. Within seconds the carriage takes off towards your home.

Benedict is left standing there wishing he had said something, anything, to keep you longer.

He watches the carriage leave.

♡♡♡

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