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#but I still wish the Doctor could have kept something and then moved on on his own accord
capybaraonabicycle · 8 months
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You know something I am really sad about is how the TARDIS interior changed for tenteen. It would have been a whole different story if the clothes had been normal but like this? Everthing the Doctor was just vanished and got replaced. The screwdriver coming out of nothing? The outfit? A new fancy TARDIS?
10 kept the TARDIS from 9 and 12 from 11. 13 had to fight to get her TARDIS back and built herself a new screwdriver in the meantime. 11 had to let her recalibrate until she was usable again and gave him a new screwdriver (? I think ? Don't quite remember where he got the sonic) All of them CHOSE their new outfit and had a whole thing where they searched for it.
And tenteen just gets all those things like this, appearing in his lap. Which is convenient, sure, but I feel like he really lost the identification process on the way. Maybe not as important for him as he knows the body and mind and companion already (in theory) but like, I am not surprised he is going through it like this. He just wanted to hang on to Yaz, wasn't allowed that, lost her, decided she was gonna be excited for change, didn't really get change either and then everything they could hold onto as part of their last identity, everything that was theirs to let go off, just got ripped out of his hands replaced with a weird mixture of 'look how new and nice and shiny' and 'isn't that lovely reminiscent of 4 bodies ago'. No wonder they are running on their gingiva*, I would be so lost and disoriented in his place.
And then obviously from a meta pov I dislike that 15 is apparently copying tenteen's TARDIS now. We got a scene of tenteen exploring the new TARDIS and being excited but for 15 he has already had 1.5 adventures with her. And while we couldn't put tenteen into the old clothes it was okay to put 15 in underwear? Wouldn't it have made much more sense to have the weird clothes' thing happen with the mitosis regeneration? (like, I wouldn't have liked that either but it is a little weird how tenteen got a full suit and 15 got the bare minimum)
And I hate how it feels like every part that made the Doctor 13 got erased as quickly as possible. Luckily, there were a few references at least - if no one got me I know the psychic paper got me <3 - and I GET why the fam didn't show up in the puppet show but like, couldn't you have left tenteen the TARDIS interior at least? I am sure Donna would have liked the crystal columns <3
It feels very rtd to have tenteen showered with gifts he can't even want and that are way too much while others are erased or overshadowed by him and get the leftovers.
On a similar note, I was also direly missing post-regeneration haze for both of them. Who knows (well people who have watched the Christmas special, I guess), maybe that's yet to come for 15? But like how are they supposed to function without running about without a clue and passing out every 5s for a day or two?
*German expression, means to be on one's last legs
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bittersw33t-lotus · 2 months
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Surprise
Ghosting pt. 1
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader
Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when he’s 25 and you’re 23.
Part 2 here
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“kids?”
“What about them?”
“Would you ever want any?”
It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You don’t know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. That’s when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.
“No. Hard pass. I don’t do well with them nor do I want any of my own.” He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didn’t bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.
“Yeah I’m not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.” You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldn’t mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you don’t mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when he’s deployed to his job. There’s also days where you fear he’ll never come back home and you’d be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simons’ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.
As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. It’ll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and it’ll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.
Hopefully, if he doesn’t die on the job…
“It’ll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.”
That’s how you’d thought it be. Until it wasn’t.
You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested you’d go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said you’d be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. That’s when the thoughts hit you. You couldn’t be right? There’s no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.
That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you don’t. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe it’s best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.
You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesn’t want a baby, but you’re pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons baby…
Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?
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Simon was out drinking with his ‘comrades’ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when you’d tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD should’ve prevented this from happening.
You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since you’ve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasn’t the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.
Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesn’t want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he can’t be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isn’t around for long periods at a time.
As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, he’s a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didn’t outright admit it.
“How’d it go?” You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. You’re too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simon’s suspicions of your worry confirmed.
“It was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.” He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. “There’s something bothering you, I can see it. You know you can’t hide things from me and I understand you don’t wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.”
Your throat grew dry, ‘Shit.’ You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. “Yn…” He called out but you stood silent.
‘It’s now or never, i can’t hide this forever, not when I start to show.” You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry…” You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. “For what? What happened love?” He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. “You promise you won’t be mad, I’m scared you’re gonna hate me, leave me and…” You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. “I won’t.” He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.
Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. “I’m pregnant…” it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD should’ve been working, but he can’t blame you, there’s still a small chance.
“Have you made an appointment?” He asked after a long silence.
“For what?” You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, it’s too late you’ve already made up your mind.
“To get rid of it.” He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didn’t even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.
You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. “Simon…” You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and he’d run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.
His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. “No.” He shook his head as you sobbed. “Dammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!” He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesn’t want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.
“I’m sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didn’t mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldn’t bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I can’t bring myself to get rid of our baby.”
“No we agreed that we’d have no kids, for Christ sake, I’m always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And I’m not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.” He didn’t yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.
Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Your voice quivered. Ghost didn’t even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. “Simon please!” You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.
You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.
It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items he’d need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. “You’re right,” you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. “You don’t have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. I’ll keep the baby without you.” Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldn’t see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. “I won’t make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You won’t hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. I’ll be gone, unless you say something Simon...” you stand there staring at him hoping he’ll say something… anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know it’ll never come. He’s Simon, Ghost, he’s not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesn’t spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.
After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.
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You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother she’d always compared one over the other, “Your sister is skinner than you,” “You eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,” “your sister this” or “your sister that”. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.
Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.
“Are you alright?” She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. “I’m sorry!” You cried out. “It’s okay.” She hushes you and cradled your head. “No it’s not, I should’ve talked to you, we should’ve made up long ago but I ran off…”
“And so did I!” She cut you off. “I was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that we’re here, let’s take this chance to make it right.” She wiped your tears from your face. “Now tell me what wrong?” She asks you as you take a deep breath. “Simon left me.” You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. “Well technically I left but we decided that we were through.”
“Why, what happened?” She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.
“I’m pregnant.” You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesn’t speak and allows you to continue. “I found out not too long ago.”
You sister looks at you in shock. “Is that why… Simon…” she tries to ask, you know what she’s saying before you nod answering her question.
“Yeah, we’ve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didn’t want any, me, I wasn’t too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.” You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. “I don’t know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because he’s currently on deployment but he’s made his choice not to be in the baby’s life. I gave him the choice to leave because I don’t want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.” You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.
“He’s in the military?” She asks him a bit surprised, she’s still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.
You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. You’ve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about where’d you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. “Yeah, he doesn’t tell me much about it. But from what I’ve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. He’d come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when he’ll be back, or if he’ll come back at all.” You explain to her. You leave out the part where he’d be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.
Stacy looks at you, she’s processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell that’s it’s a lot for her to take in. You don’t blame her, you two haven’t seen each other er for over five years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. “I promise you I’ll only be here for a few months. I’ll find a place to stay for the baby and I before they’re born, we’ll be out of your hair soon.” You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that it’s only temporary and you’re not going to take advantage of your sister’s kindness and willing to help you out, you don’t wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. You’ve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.
Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. You’re a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you don’t, I’ll always be here to help you.” She says as she smiles at you fondly.
You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. You’re on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. “Thanks Stac.” You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.
Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. “Don’t thank me, you’re my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.”
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Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)
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ahsokaismyqueen · 2 months
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Death Wish Love Pairing - Tyler Owens x Reader Summary - You wake up in a hospital with no recollection of how you got there, only that you are now in pain. Thankfully, the presence of your boyfriend makes it a little better. Word Count - 1.1k Warnings - Language, but that's it! This is very fluffy and really just me dipping my toe in to see if I want to do more. <3
The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the pain. It was dulled, no doubt by some intense medication, but it was there. Your head was pounding, your arm was aching and your knee might’ve been attempting to murder you if a limb could do so. What was worse than all that however, was the incessant beeping that told you where you had to be. 
The hospital. 
You hated the hospital. You were one of those people that would go weeks being sick and ignoring every symptom to avoid seeing  a doctor, something that drove Tyler crazy even though he knew you had a good reason for it. In fact, he never would have taken you here if he had a choice because he knew you wouldn’t want it. You tried to recall what that reason might be, but the last few hours of your mind drew up a blank. 
Realizing that no matter how long you kept your eyes closed, the reality was you were still in a hospital, you finally opened your eyes, looking up at the white spotted ceiling. It took a couple of blinks for your vision to come back into focus, but when it did, you took a look around the room, your eyes settling on the person sitting in the chair beside you. 
It was almost funny, seeing such a big man in such a small chair. While he was asleep, he didn’t look comfortable. His head was leaning against his own shoulder at an odd angle, his baseball cap clutched in his hands on his chest, and his legs spread as far as they could. He must have been miserable, sleeping like that. 
But he was here. 
It was a little bit selfish, you’d admit that. You had no idea how long he’d been asleep. It could have been minutes or hours, but either way, now that you were awake, you wanted some company. Your eyes landed on a cup that was laying at your bedside and a straw beside it. While it took you a couple of grabs to get it in your hands, your aim was remarkably good as you threw it at Tyler, the straw smacking him right in the face. 
He startled awake, and his gaze went straight to you. A relieved smile formed on his face, not even angry that you had just assaulted him with a straw. “Well, it looks like someone’s feeling better.”
“I don’t know if that’s the right term. Heavily drugged is more accurate.” You admitted, looking over at him once more and noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the state of his very creased flannel. “You look like shit.” You said. 
Tyler shook his head at you, but that smile you loved faded from his lips. He moved his chair closer to you, his knees bumping into the side of your bed, and you closed your eyes for a moment as he leaned forward and brushed some hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me baby.” 
“It must have been bad if you’re being so sweet to me.” You said, but you both knew that wasn’t true. Tyler was nothing but sweet to you, if not a bit protective. “I don’t remember anything.” You admitted. “Must have gotten knocked in the head pretty good.” 
“Yeah, stop signs’ll do that to you.” He said, sliding his hand down from your head to take yours in both of his. 
It took a minute for his words to sink in, and for you to realize what he was saying. “Are you telling me a stop sign-”
“Flew straight into your head, and then knocked you down on your arm and knee? Afraid so.” Tyler started caressing your hand with his thumb. “Haven’t seen that much blood in a long time, might’ve traumatized Dani a bit.” 
You let out a groan, and this time it wasn’t from pain. “They’re never gonna let me hear the end of this.” 
Tyler let out a short laugh of disbelief. “They’re just going to be glad that you’re okay.” 
“And then they’re going to tease me mercilessly.” You groaned again, putting your hand to your forehead dramatically only to wince when your hand touched a bandage. “Ouch.” 
He grabbed your hand with a sigh, pulling it away from your face. “Don’t do that.” 
You looked over at your boyfriend again, noting with a frown once again how stressed he looked. It wasn’t an emotion you saw often on his face. The few times you could recall seeing it were in the face of tornado damage. “Are you okay, seriously?” You asked, real concern in your voice. 
Tyler sent you a weak smile. “Carrying your bleeding body into the back of an ambulance wasn’t my favorite thing I’ve ever done.” 
You tried to put yourself in his shoes, imagining what it would have been like to see this man, this man you adored and loved with every fiber of your being, laying on the ground and not moving. It was a nightmare you had often with the line of work you were both in, and something you tried not to think about. Now though, reality had given you a slap in the face, and you knew that if you had seen Tyler like he must have seen you, you would have been hysterical. The thought of what he must have been through made you want to grab him and pull him into this tiny bed with you and hold him. But you knew that would probably break it, and this hospital visit was already going to be expensive, so you reached out with the arm that wasn’t hurting and cupped his handsome face in your hand. “I’m okay, baby.” You tried to reassure him, but at his look of disbelief, you backtracked. “Well . . . mostly.” 
He turned his head to press a soft kiss against your palm that still managed to send butterflies through your stomach, even with all the pain meds. “I’m getting you a helmet.” 
“Can it have your face on it?” You teased him. 
His genuine smile started to return to his face as he leaned forward. “Baby, it can have whatever you want on it.” 
Your fingers slid into his soft blonde hair, pulling him even closer until your lips were centimeters away. “I’ll take it under consideration.” 
Tyler’s smile was full on his face now as he leaned forward a little more to close the gap between the two of you when the heart rate monitor started beeping faster and faster. He pulled away to glance at it, then smirked at you. “That wouldn’t be because of me now would it?” He asked with a smirk. 
You shook your head at him. “Nope, definitely the pain meds wearing off.” 
But you were proven a liar as his soft lips pressed against yours. 
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girlgenius1111 · 10 days
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throw it all away
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part 1 of 2 if no one is noticing any changes, there must not be a problem. but then, someone does notice. and there is a problem. that just isn't a reality you really feel like accepting. [putellas!reader]... alexia realizes you're struggling. how does she help you with something she doesn't understand? tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.
“You’ve lost weight.” 
It wasn’t said with an impressed nod or smile. It wasn’t said like a benchmark you’d met. It wasn’t said like it was a good thing.
Somehow, you knew it wouldn’t be. 
Instead, the physio’s voice was gentle, concerned. He spoke to you like he knew how you got here, but he couldn’t. How could he know?
No one noticed. Not your teammates, not your friends. Not Spain’s physios. Not even your sister. 
And that’s what you wanted. 
“Okay…” You said, like you didn‘t understand why he’d  brought this up. 
“Not a little weight. Enough that I’m concerned.” His eyes were squinted a little, like he was trying to see right through you. Still, you maintained your composure, kept your face blank. 
“Well, I didn’t have much of an off season. It’s been pretty nonstop even since the end of the league season. I’m just in shape.” 
He shook his head, now looking almost pityingly at you. “That’s what the issue is? You’re sure?” 
You did what you’d been doing for months: you lied. 
“Yep. Can’t think of anything else it could be.” Your tone was light, even as the weight of the unspoken words settled heavily on your chest. 
“We have to be careful with these things, you understand. We’ll change up your meal plan, and see how you are in a week. You’ll be on light training anyway, like the rest of the girls coming back. If it’s a matter of being overworked, we’ll get you back healthy in no time.”
He didn’t say what would happen if things didn’t go back to normal; if this wasn’t just being overworked. He didn’t need to. He was giving you a chance to correct this yourself before he has to involve the doctors and the coaches. And your sister. He was giving you a chance to fix this before it became a much, much bigger deal. 
As you left the medical room, you wished more than anything that this was a chance you could take, but you knew that it wasn’t. 
You knew the physio had opened his mouth a week later when he came out during a water break to pull Alexia, Irene, and Pere aside. He spoke to them quietly for a few minutes, all three of them furtively looking over at you every so often. You knew what you were in for when you got home; probably a very angry Alexia. Angry that you were jeopardizing your career and your health, throwing all your hard work away. For Alexia, football was the most important thing in the world. Sometimes it felt like it was more important than you, and you knew that she wouldn’t understand this. She would see what you were going through as a weakness, something you needed to quickly resolve, and get back to the most important thing. 
It was just that you weren’t capable of handling Angry Alexia right now. Not when you already felt kind of faint from training on an empty stomach, horribly grumpy because you were fucking hungry, and honestly still in denial that anything was wrong. It would lead to a whole blow up fight you didn’t want to get into, and as such, you weren’t looking forward to going home. Alexia surprised you. 
She’d started off angry, moving to stomp over, grab you, and haul you home so she could yell, when Irene grabbed her wrist and encouraged her to just listen for a second. 
“This is going to ruin her season.” Alexia seethed. “Does she not realize that she’s hurting the team?”
Irene regarded her incredulously for a moment, having to remind herself that the other woman’s brain just worked differently than hers. “Ale, she’s hurting herself. Whatever she’s doing isn’t a selfish decision she’s making. She’s sick.” 
Your sister grew quiet, chewing on her lip as she thought through Irene’s words. 
“You can’t yell, Ale. You can’t be mad at her. She needs help, and she isn’t going to want to accept it. You have to be careful with this, gentle and patient and kind. Okay?” Irene said, staring hard at her co captain. 
“Yeah.” Alexia said quietly. “Pedro, do you know why… or how?” 
Pedro shook his head, worry clouding his face. “I asked her about it a week ago, and she pretended she had no idea what I was talking about. I told her she had a week to get back on track, but she didn’t. I don’t know how, or why. Those are both questions for your sister.” 
Alexia nodded, her gaze stuck on where you were stretching, just inside the gym tent. “Pere, can we go? I need to talk to her, and I know there needs to be a conversation with everyone, but she’ll just feel cornered if that’s where we start. I want to take her home to talk.” 
Pere agreed immediately, telling Alexia to take as much time as she needed, and reach out to the club for any help they could provide at all. Irene walked with the blonde in the direction of the tent, her arm slung across Alexia’s shoulders. 
“She isn’t going to want to talk to me.” Alexia murmured. “She hates talking about her feelings, especially with me.” 
Irene frowned. “You’re her sister. She trusts you more than she trusts anyone. Just stay calm and don’t get angry. I know when you worry you tend to get angry, but try not to let that happen. It won’t help.” 
Alexia nodded, having arrived at the entryway of the gym. Irene patted her on the back, telling her to call if she needed help, before she headed inside. She called you over, receiving a few odd looks from her teammates at the strange tone of her voice. 
Your sister could see how terrified you looked, even from all the way across the gym. Her heart clenched at the brave face you were trying to put on; it didn’t hide how scared you were.  
“Yeah?” You said, trying to act casual as you walked over to your sister, even though you felt kind of dizzy, and your head was pounding with a headache, not to mention the anxiety that was coursing through your veins. 
“We’re going home, we need to talk.” Her tone wasn’t clipped or sharp like you expected it to be. Her face wasn’t set with anger, her hands weren’t clenched into fists at her side. She looked strangely… calm. 
“Talk? About what?” You questioned, feeling defensive even if your sister wasn’t mad. 
“We’ll talk about it when we’re home. Let’s go.” With that, she led you out of the tent, back towards the main building. You stumbled slightly, the dizziness and nerves combining to make you a bit unsteady. 
Your sister steadied you, both her hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 
If you’d had any hopes that Alexia didn’t know what was going on, those disappeared. Her eyes flitted over you, her grip strong, as if she was worried you’d collapse or something. 
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Your voice was shaking, for a reason you weren’t quite sure of. 
Alexia softened, surprising you as she wrapped her arms around you tightly, pulling you into a hug. It was nice, comforting, and you sank into it, taking just a moment to allow yourself to be weak. 
It wasn’t comforting for your sister. Suddenly, all she could feel was the bones of your spine, more pronounced than they should be. It was a noticeable difference, and she knew that it likely felt more dramatic than it really was, considering the information the physio had given her, that this wasn’t that bad yet, that it was fixable. Still, your sister wanted to cry at how small you seemed against her. 
More than that, she wanted to cry that she hadn’t noticed this happening. 
You kept waiting for her to blow up. All the way to the locker room and to the car, all the way home, but she didn’t. She watched you carefully out of the corner of her eye, she carried your bag for you, and she insisted you drink an entire water bottle on the drive home. Alexia was worried, more than she was upset, and that was beginning to terrify you. 
She didn’t even really talk upon arriving home. She just set your bag down, looking around for Olga like the brunette would have all the answers to fix this. 
“Go shower, we can talk after, okay?” Alexia said over her shoulder, disappearing in the direction of the office Olga worked out of during the day. 
As you headed up the stairs, you wondered if the screen still slid out from your window as easily as it used to, when sneaking out was a bit of a habit. 
You wondered if your body could even take the jump down to the ground underneath your window. You wondered whether you even cared, if it meant that you’d get away from this conversation, escape the walls closing in around you.
Downstairs, Alexia was pacing a hole in the rug spread across the office floor. Olga was watching her march back and forth, waiting for her girlfriend to talk herself out, which she didn’t seem anywhere close to doing. 
“How could I miss this? Do I not pay enough attention? Is this my fault? Have I pushed her too hard? How long has this been going on? How did no one notice before now? What if-”
Olga stood, grabbing her girlfriend’s hands and putting her movements to a stop. “Amor, take a second. Relax. None of these questions need to be answered right now.” 
Alexia leaned almost imperceptibly into her girlfriend’s touch, desperate for anyone to tell her what to do here. 
“We need to talk to her. That’s where we start, and that is going to be hard, Ale. She probably doesn’t want to hear anything we have to say about this, and she might lash out, but you have to remember how much she must be hurting right now. You have to be patient, okay?” 
Alexia nodded her jaw tightening as her resolve strengthened. She’d be the most patient person in the world, if that’s what you needed. She’d do anything you needed her to, but the possibility that this wasn’t something that she could fix for you was terrifying her. She just wanted to help. 
When you came back downstairs after your shower, you knew you were in for an intervention. Ale and Olga were sitting on the couch next to each other, speaking in hushed tones. You approached them warily, sitting in the armchair across from the couch. 
Your sister took a deep breath, her eyes scanning over the piece of paper on the sofa next to her. It was a few notes that Pedro had given her, a few reminders she had for herself, and a few that Olga had added. 
Don’t get angry. She needs help, she doesn’t need your anger. 
Don’t push too hard, but don’t let her off with excuses.
 Be firm, but be kind. 
Don’t threaten to tell Mami, because she’ll just run. 
“I’m not mad.” Alexia started. Now that you were sure she wasn’t going to yell at you, you realized how much easier that would have been. You hated the concern on her face, the worry in her eyes. “You were looking at me earlier like I’d be mad at you, but I’m not mad.”
“Why would you be mad?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Playing dumb always infuriated your sister, yet this time, she didn’t take the bait. 
“I talked to Pedro and Pere earlier. Pedro has some concerns, about you.” Your sister paused, looking at her girlfriend next to her, as if for reassurance. Olga nodded encouragingly, and Alexia straightened up. “I think you know what these concerns are, hermana.”
“I don’t.” You said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate you talking about me behind my back.” 
“You do.” Alexia said, still annoyingly calmly. 
“I really don’t, Alexia.” 
“Pequeña, please. I know that you aren’t okay. You don’t have to lie to me about that.” 
You wilted a little, eyes anywhere but on your sister, but she leaned forward, seeing an opportunity; a fracture in your walls. 
“I want you to be okay. I want you to get better, healthier.” Alexia said gently, her eyes flickering to the piece of paper in front of her every so often. It was a mix of her handwriting and Olga’s, though you couldn’t make out what it said. 
“I am better. I am healthier, Ale.” You argued weakly, finally looking at your sister. You half believed yourself, half knew that you were very far from healthy, the two conflicting sides waging war in your head. Would it be easier to admit defeat? To break down and let your sister fix you? You found that you didn’t really want to be fixed.
“Hermanita, this isn’t okay. You can’t keep going like this. It’s not safe.”
You shook your head defiantly, a single tear tracking down your cheek. “Alexia, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”
You didn’t think about the times you’ve cried yourself to sleep after having no choice but to eat a full dinner. You didn’t think about the way everything is just a touch more exhausting, now. You couldn’t think about that, you wouldn’t. You were fine. Why couldn’t Alexia see that? 
She just stared at you, blinking rapidly. Fighting back tears, you realized with a start. Her hand gripped Olga’s tightly, and you couldn’t fight the wave of guilt that hit you like a truck. She was worried, and you knew she should be. Somewhere deep inside, you knew. And that was the most terrifying part. 
“Cariño, I am so worried. You aren’t okay, I don’t understand how you can’t see that. You are an athlete, you know you need to fuel your body in the right way. You know this isn’t normal. Can’t you admit that?”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, for the first time showing even a hint of emotion. It wasn’t anger, or sadness. It was fear. 
“I have it under control, Ale. I promise you, it’s under control.” Your voice wobbled, no confidence at all behind your words. Alexia shut her eyes tightly for a minute before blinking then open and looking at you in a much more intense way. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
You stood up, feeling a flare of anger surge through you. “I don’t care what you believe.” Moving to walk out the front door, though not sure where you were going, you froze at the sound of Alexia’s voice behind you. 
“You can leave, but we’re still going to have this conversation. I can wait, but the sooner we talk, the sooner you’ll be allowed back at training, and back on the team sheet.” 
You whirled around, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Since when am I off the team sheet?!” 
“Since today.” Alexia didn’t raise her voice to match yours, and she didn’t stand either. She remained sitting next to Olga, both of them looking at you so sympathetically, it made you want to sprint out of the house that instant. 
“How could you do that?” 
Alexia almost flinched at the genuinely betrayed tone of your voice, but she just shook her head. 
“I didn’t do anything, pequeña. The physios and Pere made this decision themselves, based off the information they have.” She replied, nodding towards the chair across from her again. “The only way you’re being allowed anywhere near training is if you talk.” 
“I don’t want to talk about this.” You snapped, throwing yourself down in the chair. 
“Well, we have to. I won’t watch you hurt yourself like this without saying anything.”
You flinched like she’d struck you. “I am not hurting myself, Alexia. I have it under control, it’s not dangerous, it’s not anything. It’s fine.” 
“You are hurting yourself. I don’t know how, but I know that you are. Whatever you are doing to make sure your body doesn’t gain weight is hurting you!” 
"You're being ridiculous, Alexia. Completely ridiculous." You spat back.
Nothing Alexia was saying was working. You remained just as defiant, just as frustrated. Nostrils flaring, hands clenched into fists, you refused to back down. 
Olga squeezed her girlfriend's hand, the blonde falling silent as she did so. 
“Pequeña, listen to me. We both love you so much. You are my sister, maybe not by blood, but in all the ways that count. And when you care about someone, it’s so hard to watch them go through something like this.”  
Olga’s voice was soft and gentle and somehow, the most threatening thing you’d heard. It was the way she looked at you, the way she spoke; like she knew what she was about to say would challenge you. 
“If this was anyone else doing what you’re doing, you’d have something to say. If this was a friend or a teammate, and you saw them doing this, you’d do something. Am I wrong?”
You found that you couldn’t lie, so you just shook your head. 
“Give yourself that same kindness. Give yourself that same love and care. You would get someone else help if they needed it, no matter what. Can you let us help you?”
Another tear ran down your cheek, your lip trembling as you fought to hold back your sobs. Only Olga’s hand in hers kept Alexia from leaping over the coffee table and pulling you into a hug. 
“I’m scared. I don’t want to.” You said finally. Your eyes fixed on Olga, refusing to look over at your sister and see the disappointment you knew was simmering. 
“But you need to. And you know you need to.” Olga said carefully. She watched as an array of emotions flashed across your face, until you finally landed on… resigned. 
“I… I don’t know where to start.” 
“That’s okay!” Alexia jumped in. “You don’t need to know. We can take it one step at a time. We’ll get through this, hermanita, I promise.” 
The way Alexia was talking made your stomach twist. There was no ‘we’ here. Alexia didn’t close her eyes when she got dressed in the morning, didn’t turn her back to the mirror before she showered. She didn’t have to come up with excuses to go to the bathroom after a big meal, she didn’t know exactly how to move her food around her plate to look like she’d eaten more than she had. Alexia loved you, and you had no doubt that this was hurting her, but there was no comparison to what you’d been putting yourself through. Alexia couldn’t fix this for you, couldn’t even really fix it with you. It was something you had to entirely be committed to, recovery, something that would take strength from the deepest parts of you. Alexia couldn’t promise that you’d get through it. It wasn’t up to her.
You didn’t say any of that to your sister. What good would that have done? Instead, you dropped your head into your hands, and tried to breathe. You still couldn’t quite believe this was happening, and a part of you wished you’d wake up and it would all be some horrible dream, and no one would actually know. Another part of you, though, felt like sobbing in relief that someone had finally noticed. 
Unbeknownst to you, Alexia and Olga were having a silent conversation. Alexia wanted to drag you into the kitchen and make you eat lunch, since she was absolutely sure that you hadn’t had breakfast. She wanted to talk, and talk some more, and find you a therapist, and call her Mami and tell her what was going on. She wanted to do every little thing she could think of, because she was sure if she tried hard enough, she could control this enough for you to be okay.
Olga knew better. She looked at you and could tell that you were barely restraining yourself from curling up into a ball and crying. She knew trying to make you eat a full meal in the way Alexia intended to right now would push you too hard. She knew that you needed time and space to process and breathe. The brunette could see how easily you’d be overwhelmed here, and it was this knowledge that had her firmly telling Alexia what she was to do. 
“Go upstairs and shower. I’ve got her.” She whispered, kissing Alexia’s cheek softly. 
Her girlfriend looked at her in confusion, both of them exchanging a few glances before Alexia gave in. 
“Please try to get her to eat something.” The blonde whispered back, standing and beginning to head upstairs. She paused at your chair, opening her mouth to say something before thinking better of it. Instead, she just kissed the crown of your head and headed upstairs. 
Only once Olga heard the shower turn on upstairs did she finally move, walking around the coffee table and crouching in front of you. 
“Nena?” She called softly. 
You looked up apprehensively. 
“What do you need right now? You tell me, and that’s what we’ll do.” 
Control. Olga was giving you control, but you didn’t know what to do with it. You felt overwhelmingly lost, not even sure if you could put one foot in front of the other without someone telling you how to. 
“I… don’t know.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders. 
“That’s okay.” Olga assured you. “We don’t have to talk any more today, but I’d like you to try to eat something. It doesn’t have to be big, or a whole meal, but something. Is there anything you’d like?” 
No, there wasn’t, you wanted to snap. That was part of the problem. Instead of snapping, though, you found yourself thinking. “Protein shake?” You requested shakily. 
Olga nodded, smiling proudly at you. “Protein shake and a piece of toast, I think.” 
You found yourself agreeing, somehow, rising from your chair and following Olga into the kitchen. You tried to think of what would be worse; eating or talking. Both seemed like pretty abysmal choices, but Olga set your small meal down in front of you, and you knew there wasn’t really a choice. As quickly as it had been handed over to you, you felt the control slipping out of your grasp. The shower turned off upstairs, and you reached for the glass, bracing yourself for everything you were about to feel, and everything Alexia was probably about to say.
back in my two parter era. let me know what you all think :)
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its-avalon-08 · 3 months
Note
I need some angst and hurt comfort right now. I was wondering if you could write something with Lando and his long term girlfriend and she’s pregnant and Lando has been very busy with racing and stuff that one day when she says she’s going to an appointment to get a scan for the baby Lando resizes that he hasn’t been to a scan ever. Only like to the first two. And he’s like guilty and stuff and more guilty when he relies that his girlfriend is use to it. Happy ending please.
I hope that makes sense. I just thought you would be good to write it as I love all your work. 💕
every scan, every kick (ln4)
✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader
✦ genre - angst, absent lando, tears, fluff
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First Trimester
Y/N sat in the waiting room of the clinic, anxiously tapping her foot. She kept glancing at her phone, hoping for a text or call from Lando. It was their second scan, and she was excited to share this moment with him. She finally saw a text pop up.
Sorry, babe. The meeting ran over. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Love you.
Her heart sank, but she forced a smile. She knew he was busy, but it still hurt. She went in alone, the excitement dulled without him by her side.
Second Trimester
Y/N stood in the kitchen, trying to reach a jar on the top shelf. She had texted Lando earlier to help her when he got home. Hours passed, and she finally managed to get the jar down herself.
She heard the front door open and Lando's voice calling out, "Y/N, I'm home!"
She turned to see him, his face tired but smiling. "Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. The meeting with the sponsors ran longer than expected."
"It’s okay," she said softly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
Another Missed Scan
Y/N sat on the exam table, her hand resting on her belly. The technician smiled at her kindly. "Is your partner joining us today?"
"He’s… he’s running late," Y/N said, her voice wavering slightly. "We can start."
The scan showed the baby moving, but Y/N’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. She took a picture home for Lando, but it wasn’t the same.
Nursery Preparations
Y/N was painting the nursery, struggling to reach the higher spots. She had hoped Lando would be there to help, but he was away at a race. Her phone buzzed with a text.
Won the race! Wish you were here. Love you.
She smiled, genuinely happy for him, but the loneliness crept in. She continued painting, the room coming together, but the joy was tinged with sadness.
Doctor’s Appointment
Y/N sat in the waiting room, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. She was here for a routine check-up. The receptionist called her name, and she went in alone, the familiar ache of Lando’s absence gnawing at her.
The Breakdown
Y/N sat at the kitchen table, her eyes red from crying. She had tried to hold it together, but the loneliness and the weight of going through her pregnancy mostly alone had finally broken her. Kelly, P and Max had come over for a visit, sensing she needed company.
Kelly sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly. “Y/N, talk to us. What’s going on?”
Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. “It’s just… Lando. He’s always so busy with racing and everything. I understand his career is important, but… I feel so alone.”
Max leaned against the counter, his face filled with concern. “He’s missing a lot, isn’t he?”
Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her face. “He missed the last scan. And the baby’s first kick. I texted him, but he’s always so caught up in meetings or races. I try to be supportive, but… it’s so hard.”
Kelly pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay to feel this way, Y/N. You’re doing this alone, and it’s not fair. You deserve to have him by your side.”
Y/N sobbed into Kelly’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be a burden. I know how important his career is.”
Max stepped closer, his voice gentle. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re his partner and the mother of his child. He should be there for you.”
Kelly continued to comfort her. “You need to talk to him, Y/N. He needs to understand how much this is affecting you.”
Y/N pulled back, wiping her tears. “I’ve tried, but he’s always so busy. I feel like I’m losing him.”
Max crouched down beside her, taking her hand. “Lando loves you, Y/N. He just needs a wake-up call. He needs to realize what he’s missing before it’s too late.”
Kelly nodded. “You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N. But you shouldn’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, and we’ll help you talk to Lando.”
Y/N took a deep breath, feeling slightly better with their support. “Thank you. I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”
Kelly smiled softly. “We’re family, Y/N. We’ll always be here for you.”
Max squeezed her hand reassuringly. “And we’ll make sure Lando understands what’s at stake. You deserve to be happy and supported.”
Y/N nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope. With friends like Kelly and Max, she knew she had the strength to face the challenges ahead. They stayed with her, offering comfort and support, as she prepared herself to have the difficult conversation with Lando.
Y/N and Daniel Ricciardo sat at the dining table, laughing and chatting over a cup of tea. Daniel had stopped by to catch up, and the conversation had naturally drifted to the baby. Lando had just gotten home from a long day at the track, and he walked into the lively discussion. "Hey, guys," Lando said, dropping his bag by the door and joining them at the table.
"Hey, mate," Daniel greeted, smiling warmly. "We were just talking about the little one. How's the baby cooking, Y/N?"
Y/N smiled, her hand resting on her belly. "Pretty good. The baby’s been very active lately."
"Yeah, you mentioned that at the last scan," Daniel said. "Didn't you say the baby kicked like a future football star? And the doctor said everything is progressing perfectly, right?"
Lando’s smile faltered. "You went to the last scan?" he asked Daniel, trying to keep his tone casual. "No, I didn’t," Daniel replied, a bit puzzled. "Y/N was just telling me about it. I just thought you had been there. We just chat pretty often, you know?"
"Oh, right," Lando said, his voice tight. "Y/N told you."
Daniel, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, mate. She even showed me the picture from the last scan. Your kid's got a strong heartbeat. Future racer, right?"
Lando forced a chuckle, but the guilt was bubbling inside him. "Yeah, definitely."
Y/N looked at Lando, noticing the strain in his expression. "Lando, it’s okay. I know you’ve been busy."
"No, it’s not okay," Lando said, his voice cracking. "Daniel knows more about our baby than I do. I haven’t been there, Y/N. I’ve missed so much."
Daniel sensed the need for privacy and stood up. “I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll see you both later.” He gave Lando a reassuring pat on the back before leaving.
As the door closed, Lando sank into the couch, his head in his hands. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’ve missed so much.”
She sat beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lando, I know your career is demanding. I understand.”
“But it’s not enough,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve missed scans, kicks... moments I can’t get back. And it took Daniel fucking knowing more about our baby than I do to make me realize how absent I’ve been.”
Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes. “Lando, you’re here now. That’s what matters.”
“No, Y/N, it’s not enough. I’ve been so focused on racing that I forgot what’s truly important. You and our baby are my priority. I’ve been selfish, and I’m so, so sorry.”
She hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face. “We love you, Lando. We just need you here with us.”
He held her close, his own tears falling freely. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll be here. I’ll make it right. I love you both more than anything.”
They sat there, holding each other, the weight of their emotions filling the room. Lando knew he had a long way to go, but he was determined to make up for the lost time. For Y/N and their baby, he would be present, supportive, and the partner they deserved.
Lando and Y/N sat on the couch, the glow of the TV casting a soft light in the room. They had just finished dinner, and the weight of the day’s emotional conversations hung in the air. Lando had apologized, and Y/N had accepted, but the raw emotions still lingered.
They were watching a movie, but neither of them was really paying attention. Lando held Y/N close, her head resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, his heart heavy with guilt and love.
“Y/N,” Lando whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you. I missed so much, and I hate myself for it.”
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with understanding. “Lando, you’re here now. That’s what matters. We can’t change the past, but we can make sure you’re here for the future.”
Lando’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you so much, Y/N. More than anything. I don’t ever want you to feel alone again.”
She cupped his face, wiping away his tears with her thumb. “I know you do, Lando. And I love you too. We’ll get through this together.”
Lando’s tears began to flow more freely. “I just feel like I’ve let you down. You deserve so much better.”
Y/N shook her head, her own eyes welling up. “You’re an amazing partner, Lando. Yes, it’s been hard, but I believe in us. I believe in you.”
Lando pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. “I’m going to be there for every moment from now on. Every kick, every scan, every little thing. I promise.”
Y/N held him tightly, her heart aching with both sadness and love. “I know you will. We’ll make it work.”
They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the movie playing softly in the background. Lando’s tears eventually subsided, replaced by a deep sense of resolve. He kissed the top of Y/N’s head, his heart swelling with love and determination.
“Thank you for believing in me,” he whispered.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. “Thank you for coming back to us.”
Lando leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ll never leave you again.”
They continued to cuddle, the warmth of their love and commitment wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. As the night wore on, they talked about their dreams for the future, the plans for their baby, and how they would face everything together. Lando knew he had a lot to make up for, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready to take on anything.
As they drifted off to sleep, still entwined on the couch, Lando whispered one last promise. “I love you, Y/N. Always and forever.”
She smiled, her heart full. “I love you too, Lando. Always and forever.
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fangirl-dot-com · 10 months
Text
Reader Lore - Born to Break Records
So this is a little filler for between now and the next chapter. This chapter might have triggers for death, abusive parents, and brief mentions of bullying. If these make you uncomfortable, then please feel free to skip this chapter. The synopsis is the reader’s life up until her first race win in F2. 
Welcome to Reader-Lore
2003
The cry of a baby filled the sterile walls of the delivery room. Pants filled in the quiet moments, but were mostly covered. The wailing baby was placed into the arms of the waiting mother, the father looking down on the two. 
“It’s a girl,” the nurse told them, writing something down in a book. 
The atmosphere suddenly changed. The once hopeful air was dampened with disappointment. The father sighed loudly, turning his head to look out the window. The mother, who had held her baby tight, loosened her grip. Her nose was now scrunched in borderline disgust. 
The nurse, feeling the off energy, offered to take the baby girl. She made some excuse about needing to weigh her and make sure that she was healthy, things that could have waited until after the parents bonded. 
The mother was quick to hand her over, waiving her hand as though it wasn’t a big deal. The father had now moved farther away from the hospital bed. 
The baby had started to wail once more after being taken from the arms of her mother. Arms that she thought were safe. Arms connected to the body that had cared for her for 9 months. Arms that suddenly did not hold her tight. Arms that willingly gave her away to some stranger. 
Once the nurse and frightened infant left the from, the mother and father looked at each other. 
“I wanted a boy,” the male murmured.
The female rolled her eyes, “I know. And so did I. But we don’t have a choice anymore.” 
“We do. Could always leave her here. A boy would be able to break records. A girl is useless.” 
“And be arrested? No thank you.” The mother rolled on her side, arms around her front. The father just huffed. 
“Everything we talked about, our future, is now a wasted memory.” 
The mother looked at the door with a sliver of hope, although, it was too small for anyone to see it. “Maybe she can do everything that you wanted a boy to do.” 
“We can just have another baby,” the father persisted. 
“You heard the doctor. It would be too dangerous for me to have another. What’s done is done. You can walk out now if you can’t commit.” The woman went to say something else, but was interrupted by whimpers. 
The nurse had walked back in, now with a swaddled baby. Begrudgingly, the mother held her hands out to take the bundle of blankets. She looked down at the brand new baby, but her heart didn’t swell with pride like she read about. Her heart filled with distain, as if the baby were a Christmas present that she didn't want. But this time, she couldn’t return the baby like she’d return a gift at whatever store it was bought from. 
The father had taken a few steps closer to the bed, but kept his distance. There wasn’t a bone in his body that actually wanted the child. 
“We still need a name for her,” the nurse stated, clicking her pen. 
The mother glanced to the father before saying, “Y/n. Her name is Y/n.” 
2008 – Five years old 
The air was stuffy, filled with the scent of petrol and burnt rubber. The quiet that could have been was broken by the rattles of engines and throttles. You wished for silence. 
You wanted nothing to do with this. But, you’d rather get in a kart then flinch at your father’s hand. You had been allowed to wander around the track. The big boys were driving now. And by big boys, you meant 11- and 10-year-olds. They were bigger than you and drove karts that were so much faster than the little one that you had. 
You looked around. There was definitely not a shortage of girls hanging around, but none were dressed like you. Most were the older or younger sisters of the drivers. Their pink tops, paired with shorts or skirts, flowed in the wind. None of them were wearing an old itchy race suit that was two sized too big. They were allowed to wear sandals, while you had to endure the tight racing shoes that your dad had definitely yanked on the laces too much. It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t learn to tie them yet. 
You watched their hair bounce in the tall pony tails tied on the tops of their heads. They didn’t need their hair to be wrapped in a bun at the base of their necks so that it could fit into a helmet. 
You wished that your mom and dad would allow you to cut it off so that you could be the boy that they wanted. You knew that they didn’t want you, your little mind was able to catch on to things like that. 
You understood patterns. Patterns on the track helped you know what areas to avoid. Patters on the kart taught you where to put your feet and hands. Patterns told you that moms and dads should be happy for their children, and not yell at them. Patters revealed that children did not flinch when their parents patted their heads or caressed their cheeks. 
The wind blew loud as the kart race came to a close. You knew that you needed to get back quickly to where you parents were waiting, but you wanted to see the winners, wanted to see them taste a victory that you were so desperate for. 
You squeezed past the other boys and looked up at the three on the podium. The one on the lowest step wasn’t rememberable. His hair looked the same as others. His height wasn’t tall or small, just in the middle. 
But the boys on the other two steps were. The one on the second pedestal had a shaggy hair cut, with bangs that pointed down. You had seen him before, surrounded by his family. A little brother, a big brother, mom and dad, and then a man who looked at the boy with stars in his eyes. 
You wished someone looked at you like that. 
“And in second place, Charles Leclerc.” So that was his name. Sharl. His eyes were bright green and filled with light and hope. But a sadness still glazed them as he looked up at the boy on the top step. 
The boy who towered over the crowd had blond sandy hair. For a winner, he didn’t look happy. His blue eyes didn’t hold the same brightness that the green eyes had. 
“And our winner, Max Verstappen!” 
That was a nice name. Max. You wanted to look at the boy winner for a few more moments. Engrave his image into your mind. Because, you didn’t know when the next time you’d be able to do this. Your dad would probably ban you from such things, saying something like you didn’t need to look at something you’d never achieve.
But you were hungry. 
You were taken out of your watching by the announcement that your own race was going to start soon. And you weren’t in your kart. 
You rushed through the crowd, trying to put on your bright pink helmet on. You could put your gloves on while you got into your kart. 
By the time you got there, your dad was already looking at you with a disappointed look. Your mother was nowhere to be found. 
“Where have you been,” he hissed, hitting your helmet. 
“I wanted to see the podiums,” you muttered, getting your gloves on. 
Your dad shook his head. “What have I told you about that?” 
“That I shouldn’t look at things that I can’t get.” 
“Exactly. Now get in your kart.” 
You did as he said. You heart was pounding as you taxied the little thing onto the smaller track. You were able to be seen by everyone, your helmet acting as a little flag. It seemed to say “look at me! I’m the only girl trying to be on par with all these boys! Watch me fail!” 
But you were determined to prove them all wrong. 
By the last lap, you were right behind one more kart. One more pass and you could win. Prove your dad wrong. Prove everyone wrong. 
You watched as he broke your pattern. The pattern that would help you win. 
He made a mistake, and you welcomed it with glee. 
You passed over the finish line with a significant gap behind you and that boy. At the stopping point, you parked your kart and stepped out, exhaling sharply. 
You thought that people would cheer and shout, but the silence that you had wished for earlier had come to haunt you. 
You won and there was nothing to celebrate. 
2015 – Twelve years old 
Everyone thought he was crazy. There was no way that he was going to sponsor a 12 year old in karting, a female none the less. 
He wasn’t crazy. How could he not want to sponsor you, a consecutive race winner in your league. He constantly watched you drive circles around the boys who would berate you in their free time. He watched as you would let their words roll right off your back. You didn’t let their words get to you.
But, he was your godfather and he had a sense of responsibility for you. He watched as you climbed out of the kart, looking around trying to find a familiar face. 
He could see your eyebrows raise through the visor when you caught sight of him. 
“LoLo!” you yelled, quickly sprinting over to him. He was ready to catch you, but not expecting the hit with your helmet. 
He let out an oof as you knocked him slightly off balance. 
“Hey kid! You did good!” He rubbed your helmet as if it were hair. You quickly unbuckled the pink contraption and took it off, hair sticking to your forehead. 
You looked around before your shoulders slumped. You kicked a rock as you spoke, “They didn’t come.” 
Lorenzo had noticed a lack of your parents as soon as he arrived. He would have come earlier to help you with your kart if he had known that they weren’t here. He looked down at you with sad eyes, and that’s the last thing you wanted. 
You always wished for someone to look at you with so much love and affection that it poured out of their soul. But you only ever got looks of hatred and pity. 
He rubbed your shoulder, “It’s ok kid. But you wanna know something?” He crouched down to your level, pant legs getting damp with moisture. You nodded your head. “LoLo gets to sponsor you!” 
You gasped, eyes tearing. Even though you were twelve, you knew the weight of the situation. Your parents had told you that because you were winning, you were embarrassing them. And because you were embarrassing them, they wouldn’t pay any more years of karting after this one. You wailed when you told Lorenzo the next time you saw him. And he saw your heart break into itty bitty pieces while you did. 
When you left, he looked into every possibly way that he could keep you in karting. The only option was to sponsor you.
And sponsor you he did. He emailed, texted, and called multiple companies, trying to get their support. He would get sponsorship to put on your kart so that you could carry the logos proudly. He had your new one sitting in the back of his old truck, but that was a surprise. It was blue with two proud bulls on the very front. He had done it. He found you a sponsor that would keep you going for a couple of years. 
His thoughts were interrupted by you actually knocking him over. He knew his sweater was getting damp, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to see you smile for the rest of his life. 
You were too busy whispering thank you after thank you for you to notice the weird looks that you were getting. Looks from the boys that you had just beaten. Looks from the parents who didn’t know the worries of paying for karting. 
He quickly picked you up and took you back over to get your cart. He helped you load it on the mover and rolled it over to his truck. You wouldn’t be needing this kart that was almost falling apart. You had a new one, and you’d be all right. 
You talked the whole way home, animatedly moving your hands around as you described your latest win. Your hands rolled over the other as you showed him how you turned the wheel, barely clipping the front of the kart who wanted to push you off. 
Lorenzo only looked at you with pure adoration. A look that you wanted so much, but were too busy to see due to your explanations of your imaginations. 
Maybe he was crazy, but he didn’t think so. 
2019 – Sixteen years old (F3)
Your eyes were pricked with tears as you read the letter you received in the mail. The big letters of DISOWNMENT flashed in the reflections. They had done it weeks ago, according to the date on the top of the paper. By now, your things were probably thrown away or burned.   
You had just finished the F4 category and were making a name for yourself in F3. You couldn’t deal with this now. One of the management people came and knocked on your door, telling you that the race was about to start. 
You crumpled the paper up and threw it in the trash. If they didn’t need you, you didn’t need them. That was the lie you continually told yourself. Of course a girl needed her parents. They were the people who were supposed to nurture you and help you. 
But they never did that in the first place. At least you didn’t have to constantly buy drug store foundation and concealer and try to explain the black and blue around your eyes after it melted off during the race. No more flinching. No more hiding. 
Just no more. 
You would call Lorenzo and see if you could stay with him for a bit during the break. You would have to or you wouldn’t have a place to sleep. 
Your breath shuddered at the thought. 
You told yourself that you knew this was coming. They had cut all contact with you months ago and weren’t spotted when you went home during the last break. 
You allowed the tears to fall as you got your helmet on. No one would see the streams as you placed your visor down. You were now hidden away from the weird looks that everyone sent you. No girl had ever made it this far. 
Sure as you grew, there were girls in karting. That number seemed to increase in F4. Most of them were from the driver academies. You were still able to participate due to multiple sponsorships that Lorenzo had gotten you. 
But with increase, there has to be a decrease. You were currently the only female in F3 and were set to be the only female to make it to F2. Well, that’s what everyone told you. Your stats reflected your need to prove yourself. 
Race win after race win helped thrust you through the blockades built by men. They wouldn’t stop you, and you didn’t want to stop. Not now, not ever. 
Each race win fueled your hunger in this world. And it only grew and grew. 
Your tears were brushed away by the wind brushing through your car. At that moment, you told yourself that you wouldn’t cry over your parents ever again. They didn’t deserve them. 
You could cry about other things. Such as passing over the finish line, marking your first win in F3. 
You constantly showed the world that you could do it. You wanted to cry again as you listened to your anthem. You wanted to cry when the boys celebrated with each other, leaving you out. You wanted to cry as you walked back to your “motor home,” knowing that it was put up quickly for you. 
The time you finally let yourself cry was when you were talking with Lorenzo on the phone. Your eyes were tired and dehydrated by the time you quit. Lorenzo was able to calm you down. He told you that he would take care of everything, take care of you. 
You knew you wouldn’t be able to see him much though. The F3 calendar was far busier than the F4 one had. And you knew the moment you entered F2, time for relaxation would be far and few between. 
But you had Lorenzo to fall back on when the times got hard. You could always count on him. 
2020 – Seventeen years old (F2)
It was too soon. Too too soon. It wasn’t fair either. Your tears had not stopped streaming down your face since you arrived. The sterile smell itched your nose, but you needed to be here. For him. 
He had gotten paler in the few moments since you had been there. His breath rattled with each inhale and exhale. And each breath brought more tears. You didn’t want to let him go. 
“Please LoLo. I can’t do this without you,” you whispered, knowing that he probably would not hear you. The doctors told you that he was far too gone for that, but you liked to believe that he was still listening. “You can’t leave me like everyone has. I can’t be alone. I need you.” You put your face down in the blankets, squeezing his hand. 
The nurses stood in the door, with tears of their own. They were watching a child lose the only family that she had left. 
You inhaled sharply, wiping your tears away.
“You know I’m going to do it. For you. It’s only ever been you. You’ve been my best friend and I don’t know how I’m going to get through this scary world without you.” You hiccupped. “But, I know that you need to go. And I’m being selfish for keeping you here.” 
You stood and kissed his forehead. 
“Thank you LoLo, for everything. I love you.” 
His chest rose, fell, rose, and fell. 
But didn’t rise again. The multiple beeps from the different machines let you know that he was gone. And he wasn’t coming back. 
One of the nurses came and rubbed your back as you sobbed, not caring who heard you. Your tears did not stop. 
They didn’t stop on the plane to Bahrain. They refused to dry up during the practices as you set record times. They let up as you gave post-practice interviews, saving you from being embarrassed. 
You cried as you put your helmet on. Stickers had been placed on it the night before with Lorenzo’s name and dates of birth and death to commemorate his legacy that would continue through you. 
You knew this race was important. You heard that multiple F1 drivers were there to watch. And you’d give them a spectacle, before hiding away to burry your dead godfather. You hoped that the blond kid with blue eyes that had grown up by now was there. He didn’t need to know that you looked up to him. You just hoped that he’d be there. And possibly the green eyed Justin Bieber look-a-like as well, you had followed him too. 
You had managed to score a P5 starting on the grid and you knew it would be tough to fight for the front. But you had a feeling that you’d be just fine. 
And just fine you were. 
You all hauled your F2 car over that finish line, finishing with a gap of 10 seconds. Your crew was screaming in your ear through the radio and congratulations were being thrown everywhere. You pulled into the number 1 spot and climbed onto the nose. You put your finger on the big numbers on the nose of your car, kissed the finger that touched it, and raised it, pointing at the sky. You had changed your driver number to the permanent 89 this season, and for the rest of your career. 
One time, Lorenzo had showed you pictures of when he used to kart. The big 89 was visible through the old photographs. He had trophies upon trophies, but was never picked up by anyone. You told him that if he had raced these days, he’d be able to skip everything and would be put into an F1 car immediately. He had just laughed and told you to do it for him. 
So that’s what you were doing. After you commemoration, you scrambled down the car and jumped into the crews waiting arms. These days, you did not flinch when they hit your helmet. You knew that these were celebrations for racers and you were thankful to partake. Two boys followed you up and went before you. You didn’t remember their names, only the Australian accent and the odd American accent. But they would remember your name. 
You carried your flag high as you walked onto the stage. The anthem sounded much sweeter this time around. The trophy felt a little heavier this time though. You looked up to see those blue eyes that you saw many years ago. Max said a quick congratulations before you raised it as though to almost offer it to the open sky. This time, you let the tears go. You quicky wiped them away and picked up the giant bottle of champagne. You hauled it over your shoulder and sprayed the others, absolutely drenching them. 
This time, they did it to you as well.  
You knew you made it. 
I’ll do it for you, LoLo. 
December 2024 – Twenty-one years old 
Christian Horner sat in the folding chair, as he did year after year. A camera was right in front of him, with an interviewer to the side. 
“Please state your name for the camera.” He rolled his eyes. 
“My name is Christian Horner, and I am the Team Principal of the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team.” 
“Let’s talk about your driver, Y/n L/n.” 
The screen cuts to the pace of your car, passing multiple others in one clean sweep. 
“She’s one of the best talents I’ve seen in a while.” 
A scene of you holding a trophy, high in the sky. 
“What is one thing that you admire about your driver. She has said a lot about you.” Christian smiled. Of course you had. You told him that you saw him as the dad you never had. 
“Almost everything she touches, she turns it to gold.” 
The scene changes to your first win. The crowds of red cheered your name. Something you didn’t think was possible. You had taken that win from their favorites and you were being praised for it. Slow-motion splashes of champagne hit you from either side as you wiped your face. 
The scene returns, but Max is in Christian’s spot. 
“She’s different. She’s the epitome of what a rookie should be. I’m just thankful that she’s my teammate and not working against me.” 
The screen fades to two Red Bull cars with an Aston Martin in between them. 
“Y/n, Max is currently behind the Aston. Gap to you is 1.237 seconds,” Mitch’s voice is heard off screen through the radio. 
“Tell Maxie that it’s time to do the old switcharoo!” 
Your car suddenly slowed down just enough on the turn, and the crowd cheered as Max’s car went wide, putting him before you. You quickly got in his slip stream and the two of you sped off, leaving the green car in the dust. 
Another driver, with green eyes, is now in the seat, answering the same question. 
Charles looked up in thought while blowing some air out his lips. “She’s fearless. You normally don’t see that anywhere. Sure, everyone gets scared if they have an impact, especially as big as the one she had, but not her.” 
The camera cuts to the violent scene of your first DNF. Your car flipped, you were trapped. People’s faces were adorned with tears including Christian, no one had been able to contact you. Yet, the focus is now on you, wiggling out from beneath the wreckage. You, in spite of it all, raised your fist as though you were celebrating a first win. 
The scene cuts to an Australian with a straight smile. He looks semi-uncomfortable in the seat.  
“It looked like you and L/n had a tussle in the beginning. Is that true?” 
Oscar shook his head. “There was never a tussle. We both made mistakes, but that’s racing. Wheels touch all the time: it doesn’t mean that we have the urge to take each other out.” 
The interviewer continued, “But she did take you out.” 
The screen fades to a clip of two cars dangerously close together, one orange and one navy. 
David Croft’s voice could be heard, “And there goes the Red Bull of Y/n L/n and the McLaren of Oscar Piastri! They are close together around that corner and they aren’t backing down. Are they going to make contact! And they do! Off the track they go, debris is everywhere. And I don’t think they are going to be able to continue.” 
You knew that you should not have “never backed down never what-ed.” But Oscar was going for it and so were you. And you felt terrible. You quickly used the halo to climb out. Looking over, Oscar was doing the same thing. 
The camera followed you as you made your way through the swarming stewards. You just knew that you needed to check on the Aussie. 
The crowds could hear David speak again, “Oh no. Looks like L/n is mad. Does Red Bull have a thing for drivers with anger issues?” 
Oscar looked up and saw you storming towards him, batting away the stewards hands. He stiffened, ready for anything. But what he didn’t expect was a giant hug. He could feel you shaking and he quickly put his hands around you. 
“I’m ok.”  
The screen flashes back to Oscar. 
He huffed, “She did. But the moment she got out of the car, she came to check on me. She batted away the stewards who were desperate to make sure that she was fine, since she took the brunt of the hit. If that doesn’t convince you that Y/n is a great friend and better driver, then I don’t know what will.” The Aussie looked livid. 
The scene cuts to now a new face, your manager. 
The interviewer asks, “What is something that people might not know about Y/n.” Vito put his hand to his chin. You had already given him the permission to talk about what might be discussed. 
He inhaled, “She’s strong. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.” 
“Can you give us an example?” 
“The kid was disowned in 2019, right before her F3 debut. And you know what she did? She put that F3 car in the P1 spot. She never showed it though. She held her head high, and was squeezing into her place, that was waiting for her, in this sport.” 
A quick flash of 16 year old you, holding your first F3 trophy, was shown on screen. 
Vito kept talking as the scene changed to you walking around your motor home, greeting everyone who was there. They knew what had happened, and comforted you with words and hugs. You were thankful for them. 
“She also lost her godfather Lorenzo in January 2020. It was heartbreaking to hear her over the phone. Her debut in F2 was the next day. I told her that she didn’t have to, but she insisted that she needed to race, to win.” 
The camera followed 17 year old you, helmet on and visor down, as you walked to your F2 car, shining with your new number. 
“In less than 24 hours, she was back in the car.” 
Your car sped down the straight, over the finish line. 
“And she won.” 
The scene shifted to 23 year old Max Verstappen handing you the big F2 trophy. Tears could be seen in your eyes as you took the cup and thanked him. 
“Did you know?” 
Max looked at her in bewilderment. “I didn’t. And you would have never guessed it. Y/n has her heart on her sleeve, everywhere she goes, except when she races.” 
A quick cut now shows Christian back in the seat. 
“The last driver I saw with that mental strength was Charles Leclerc. He previously lost his godfather, and then lost his father. A few days later he won his race. Y/n lost the only family she had in less than a year.” Christian laughed. “These rookies are built different. You’d think they were made for the earlier days of racing, with how much they put into it. But Y/n, I don’t know. Her aura commands attention.” 
The scenes now shown are from multiple races. 
The camera followed you as you walked through the crowded paddock, trying to get back to hospitality. You thought that it would be different, that you’d have to squeeze through to get by. But with each step you took, the people parted like water. 
You flashed a smile at many fans who seemed awestruck to be in your presence. 
A new driver is now in the seat. 
“She’s almost like Charles, in a sense,” Lando said. “The two of them,” he looked around, “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.” 
“Can you try?” Lando shot her a cheeky grin. “They are basically the F1 royalty. Any driver has a ‘celebrity image’ and people are excited to see us outside. They ask to take pictures, but they also do things against us.” 
The scene cuts to multiple instances of booing and pushing drivers. 
“And yet, Charles and Y/n bend them to their will almost. They listen to them. The King and Queen of Formula 1.” 
A video of you, Lando, Max, and Charles speaking before the Monaco Grand Prix plays. 
“Ah, Max. Did I tell you that we have to address them as your highness now?” 
Max looked up from his phone and followed Lando’s finger that was pointed at Charles and you, deep in conversation.
“No? Why?” Lando walked over and showed him the edit and comments on his phone. 
The caption read “Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc are F1 royalty and we need to address them as such.” The video that played started with a clip of Charles in Monaco, with the grid and Monegasque royalty behind him. He looked so majestic. It switched over to you in your home country, with a crowd around your pedestal. You hadn’t even won yet, and they looked at you as though you hung the moon. You stretched out your arms and the crowd roared.
Max looked back at the two, who were ignorantly blissed. Max looked up at Lando. 
“You’re right.” 
The camera is back to Charles. 
His eyes were wide with eyebrows raised, “Lando really said that.” He smirked. Shuffling up to good posture he said, “I’m fine with that. Y/n has always been different, but in a good way. She knows what the people wants, but also doesn’t get caught up in all the PR. She’s herself.” 
A clip of you with fans plays. Your smile was mirrored with theirs. Everyone wanted to see you, hug you, feel you. And the waves that were emanating from you only made the crowd happier. 
Now, the seat is occupied by none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. 
“What do I think about Y/n?” he questions back to himself. “I know that she is one of the best rookies to ever come across in the world of Formula 1. I’ve had the opportunity to share podiums with so many drivers, but her? There’s something different.”
The scene flashes to a podium shared with you, Lewis, and Max. Lewis had been able to take the win, leaving you on the third step. You had almost had the win, but a late safety car ruined it. Lewis looked over at you, expecting a disappointed face. But all he saw was a smile that rivaled the sun. 
“She never seems to be disappointed with anything. Even if she was to qualify in last place, she would still smile.” Lewis laughed. “And I think everyone loves her more than they realize.” 
A small clip of you and a bulldog flashes across the screen. Roscoe was licking all over your face. 
“Roscoe, stop!” But you were laughing, and the dog thought that he should continue. Lewis found the two of you in the middle of the floor in the Mercedes hospitality. A blanket was draped around your shoulders.  
“And what are you doing here kid?” Lewis put his hands on his sides. 
You shrugged. “Toto told me I could hang out here. Max is having one of those ‘adult meetings’ that Christian says my ears shouldn’t hear. I think they forget that I’m 21 now.” 
Lewis just laughed, thinking of how Toto must have let you in and had given you a blanket as well. He just ruffled your hair and sat on the ground with you.  
The scene changes one more time. You are now in the seat. 
The interviewer asks, “Please state your name and your occupation.” 
You smiled, “My name is Y/n L/n and I am a Formula 1 racer who drives for the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team. I also DJ,” you shot finger guns at the camera and clicked you mouth, “Thanks Lando.” 
“How was your first season in Formula 1. You obviously showed the world of what you could do.” 
You nodded before continuing, “The season went better than I expected. To place third in the driver’s championship as a rookie? Unheard of.” You smirked. “Until now.” 
The person behind the camera continued, “You were only 10 points away from Charles Leclerc. How does that make you feel?” 
You cocked your head. “It feels wonderful. Charles had a really good season.” You leaned in as though to tell a secret. “If anything, don’t tell Charles or Max I said this, but Max and I would rather lose to Charles than anyone else.” 
“And why is that?” 
You deadpanned. “Well Charles is Lightning McQueen incarnate and Max’s emotional support rival. Who else would we want?” People laughed in the background. 
“Now that you know you could win a championship…” 
You cut her off, “Oh I’ve always known I could win a championship. But I also know that I was born to break records. And right now, I’m on a path to help Max break the 7 streak.” 
“Ah yes, sorry. What would you do after winning a championship.” You hadn’t seen Max slip in. 
“I think I’d pull a Nico Rosenburg. Ya know? Retire while I’m ahead.” 
“You would not do that!” Max said behind the camera and you looked straight at him. 
“Yes I would.” 
“No you wouldn’t. Because you said you were born to break records. Well Kid, if I make a record championship, you need to be the one to break it.” 
Oh my gosh, I loved how this chapter turned out. And it is officially the longest chapter I have written so far – 6,077 words. Right now, I have to write the chapter for the last race of F2 and you readers have to pretend that it lands on a weekend that the F1 drivers can attend. 
Also! I am pleased to announce that the first few chapters of a new series will be out shortly! It is called “Besties for the Resties” and it’s how you got close with many of the drivers. Not all of them will have their own chapter and not all the drivers are being written about. So please be aware that this will not be going over 10 chapters! 
Thank you to all my readers and Happy Thanksgiving!  
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penkura · 24 days
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I'm back with more traffy brainrot.
So I LOVE avatar the last airbender. I was thinking.
What'd happen if law met someone like toph?
Reader is blind. But can see through her feet, the thing is, she's strong on any land but HATES getting on ships because the only thing she sees is the ships interior not the outside which is the ocean, she fears with a little push she MIGHT fall over. Also, when they first met, reader may or may not play the "I'm sorry I'm blind" card and steal a hefty amount from the crew and running away faster than any of them combined lol.
I just imagine reader being innocent until she isn't lmao
I loooove Avatar omg, I still need to sit with my dad and finish the live action Netflix series, but the original series has a special place in my heart. I really liked this prompt, I hope I did it justice for you!!
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“I’m sorry, I’m blind.”
Law should’ve realized right away that it would be an excuse the moment he met you. He feels a little stupid now, having you strapped to a chair in front of him and his crew, the very people who tried to be helpful but that you stole from. Shachi questions if you actually are blind, waving his hand in front of your face though you don’t make any movements that you can see his hand moving. Penguin rolls his eyes and tells him to stop, as Law simply sighs over the situation.
You thought it was okay, you thought you’d get away with everything you’d grabbed, you didn’t know what the half of it was. You just snatched whatever seemed valuable and booked it, not caring that there was a feeling of guilt as you ran off that stupid submarine and back onto dry land, at least then you could see everything. You hated that you could only see the inside of that submarine, you didn’t even really want to be there but had flirted enough with one of the crewmembers (poor Hakugan) to get on board, knowing they must have some treasure after hearing they were a pirate crew, especially hearing it was Trafalgar Law’s crew. Even you kept up with the rumors and gossip, you knew he had a decent bounty on him, even at just twenty-one years old.
Your only mistake was staying aboard too late and grabbing his sword as something to sell, of course he’d notice that.
You thought you were fast but somehow he caught up to you, it must be a Devil Fruit you realize quickly. No one on this island could keep up with you even with your visual impairment, Law having powers is the only thing that makes sense.
“Captain, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Hakugan,” Law sighs again while his friend hangs his head with a small nod, “If she hadn’t grabbed Kikoku, we wouldn’t have known she’d stolen anything really.”
You tilted your head with your brow furrowed, confused on what he must mean. You had grabbed a ton of things, hadn’t you?
“Yeah,” Penguin laughs, shaking his head, “Grabbing all those medical supplies was a stupid move.”
“Guess it’s not that obvious that our ship has such a big medical ward, huh?”
You feel like an idiot now, embarrassment flooding over you as you listen to them list off what you’d grabbed, apart from Kikoku. Bandages, cough medicine, various medicinal drugs. You though ‘surgeon of death’ was just a moniker, not that Law really is a doctor.
You really wish you would wake up from this nightmare in your bed, you’d completely ignore the people talking about a pirate crew docking at your home island and go about your day. Part of you thinks you should have done that anyway, even when Law dismisses the rest of his crew to speak to you alone.
He's quiet for a bit, just as you are, until he crouches in front of you and sets a hand on your shoulder.
“You wanna explain?”
“…I really am blind.”
“I know that, I don’t doubt your disability,” he’s not like Shachi, questioning your reality or anything, he’s just wondering what your plan was, “I’m talking about stealing from us. If you had known it was mainly medical supplies—”
“I wouldn’t have touched any of it. I wouldn’t have bothered…”
“…so why did you?”
“…you would too to keep your home.”
Ah that’s it, you’re trying to stay in your house. It must be rent or taxes, he’s not sure, but the way you hang your head makes Law start to think.
“No one wants to hire the blind orphan. I’m not worth—”
“I think Ikkaku would be glad to have a roommate. We’ll go get your stuff in the morning and—”
“What? What are you talking about?”
The way you lift and tilt your head, blinking while Law smiles to himself just a bit.
Kind of cute actually.
“You’ll come with us, as payment for trying to steal our supplies and my sword. In the morning, you’ll take us to where you live, we’ll pay what you owe, gather your stuff, and you’ll come with us.”
“Why would you…?”
Law pats your shoulder lightly, you’re not sure why but it gets to you so much you start to cry. He doesn’t even give you a reason, letting you get your feelings out, as you start to nod.
“O-Okay…okay…thank you…”
“You’re welcome.”
You’ll have to apologize to that Hakugan guy later for leading him on like that, but it seems you’ll have plenty of time for that.
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softshuji · 10 months
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You've gotten into what you might call a bad habit recently.
You find yourself calling Rindou whenever you have an issue. Big, small, inconsequential, it doesn't matter, you just think you want him to know somehow. And you wonder if it bothers him when it's late, days like today when you just want to hear his voice on the other end, the soft and deep lilt of it interspersed by the static of the shaky phone line. He doesn't feel so far away right then, with his breath in your ear, the shuffle of his suit as he gets into his car, and Ran in the background jostling him to say hi, Rindou tutting in that way he often does.
Just like today when you need to hear him, and you're hidden under the covers with your hands on your ears. The door shudders and you wrap the duvet closer around yourself, pull it tight with your nightgown, the phone pressed to your skin, knuckles white as it rings out. The thing about Rindou is, he always picks up. There's been times when you've heard him groan in pain on the other end, Ran rushing him to hospitals and doctors, and Rindou's voice slurred and broken as it dissolves in pain, constantly shushing you in some way still, reminding you that he's fine, downplaying it all because that's what he does.
It rings three times before he picks up and you let out a breath when the line sharpens and his voice spills into the receiver.
'Hey Princess,' he says this time, his voice a tinny and sniffly crackle on the other side, muffled by the scarf pulled to his chin and you lighten immediately. You wonder often whether it's bad to need him this much when you have no doubts about who and what he is, what he does. Neither of you have ever kept those kinds of secrets and even though he'd like to protect you from the debauchery of his world, maybe he's a little grateful that you've accepted it so willingly anyway.
'Hey Rin, you got a minute?' you say despite the heavy thump of something moving on the floor beneath you, a sound you're trying desperately to drown out, the door shivering with every slam and clatter.
'Yeah? Me and Ran are just heading somewhere. What's wrong?' And you hear Ran and the deep teasing drawl of his voice cut out a 'hey sweet girl' behind, a sound that makes you smile even now, because they do it so easily and you would hate them for it if it didn't feel so nice at the same time. They are miles away, cities away even, and yet at times like this, you wonder if you have them in the palm of your hand, just like they have you.
You deliberate now, your tongue still tied and meshed with the words, tripping over just how much you can say. 'Nothing, just wanted to hear your voice, y'know, just needed a distraction I think.' Yes this is good, this is safe.
But Rindou is perceptive, observant, clever, the both of them are, and he doesn't miss the sound of a raised voice behind, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when you gasp quietly and spill out a breath into the receiver.
'Princess, you need me to come get you or something?' he says, because he can, because he would. You'd only have to say the word and he'd whisk you off like that and the only reason he hasn't is because you've expressly told him he can't, and he loves you far too much to ignore what's so important to you. But he does wish it often, that it was easier, that you needn't have to be rescued at all, and if you did, then you could stay by him where you belong, where it's safer, happier even if that can be said.
'No...! I mean, no, it's okay, don't pay attention to them, just tell me something else, anything else, something nice.'
A plate breaks and Rindou's heart drops. He wants you to ask, he wants to rescue you, he wants you to trust him to do it and he could get there for you if you needed him to.
'Are you sure Princess? I can come get you if you need me to, let me.'
There's a beat, you chewing over the words, your heart filling with a warm love that has your throat aching for him, at how soft and gentle he is at these moments, when you know your heart is safe in his calloused hands, cradled like some fragile thing. 'No, it's okay Rin, they need me, they're just...y'know having a moment.'
He hates that you circle back to this, that you give so much of yourself in this way, and he can't help but sigh into the receiver in defeat at it all, despite his chest swelling with a love for you that's unbearably painful. Sometimes he does wish you were more selfish, more like you hated things than loved them, despite this being the reason he loves you in the first place, so determined to see good in everything but yourself.
But he concedes, because it's what you want, because he loves you enough to understand you implicitly and explicitly, even if he can't agree. 'Okay,' he says and it hurts to go against who he is, what he is for you in this way, all the love he wishes was easier to talk about, all the worries for you that he hopes you understand still anyway.
'Hey sweet girl guess what?' Ran says and Rindou jostles him and growls a faint 'mind your business' to which you only giggle in response.
'Yeah?'
'You made my little brother blush today y'know that? He was giggling to himself when you were texting him earlier, isn't that cute?'
And Rindou groans, nudges Ran with his hand on his mouth, an exacerbated 'no I did not!' that you don't miss despite the line crackling and fizzing when his suit scratches against the mic.
You giggle, wiping your eyes on your sleeve, concentrating only on their voices that lull your heart into calm and only then do you bid them a goodnight, a kiss to Rindou that he hushes his voice for, a quiet 'I love you' that he whispers into the receiver for only you to hear, all the miles between you that you hope conveys your love better than either of you can.
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ficnation · 11 months
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Chapter 4: Bon Appétit
Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, 18+, SMUT A/n: I'm really putting off the inevitable here sksksksk. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3 Btw this is my first time writing explicit smut (unedited)
This is also another late piece to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: proposal) - > Events Masterlist
Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist
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When Will comes home that night after promising you he’ll only be gone for a few hours, he’s doing anything in his power not to look you in the eyes. He kept his word, coming back exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes later. You stare at him, intrigued. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way, but your mind screams at you that it can’t be anything good—it’s right, like always.
“I resumed my therapy with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he informs you after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. He still doesn’t look at you, as he takes off his jacket and boots.
“You did what?” You blink at him in confusion—utterly dumbfounded. The meaning of his words doesn’t even register in your brain. 
“I’m going to keep on seeing Hannibal,” Will repeats in the same monotonous voice.
It hits you like a train, and your stomach churns at the thought of them sitting across from each other, talking about emotions and Will’s life. Your expression turns to one of disapproval as the man expected.
“After everything he’s done, after everything he put you through, why would you do that?”
Will doesn’t respond right away, and you can tell he’s struggling with his words. “There are things I need to learn about myself,” he says finally. “About what it’s like to be me.”
You stare at him, burning invisible holes in his head, trying to decipher what is truly happening here. The guilt that emanates from his person, the fact that he still can’t meet your gaze—it’s more than suspicious. The realization hits you even harder than the fact he wants to be anywhere near Hannibal Lecter.
“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, voice on the verge of breaking. You hate yourself for ever thinking that he trusts you completely after all those years apart. The tears gathering in your eyes are more angry than sorrowful.
For a moment, Will goes silent. The silence is thick, full of tension as the two of you remain in your positions—you watching him, and him with his back turned to you.
Then, he closes his eyes tightly, as if fighting against a headache. He finally speaks, but only after turning slowly to face you. You immediately notice the pained expression on his face, the guilt that drips from his very skin.
“I have to keep seeing him.”
You go to protest again, but the sound of your voice cracks, and no words emerge. Will doesn’t wish to ever hear this noise from you again. It feels criminal—being the one who caused it. His heart breaks in a way it never did before—it stings like someone delivered it one thousand cuts.
You both remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Will doesn’t look away from you, and your eyes are locked on him, on that misery and pain staring right at you. No one moves, no one blinks, no one probably even breathes. Everything is still, except for your heart which aches even worse than it did before. The silence gets so thick you can almost feel it—touch it. For the life of you, you don’t want to be the one to break it.
You want to speak, beg, convince him to stop these mind games, to give you an explanation you could understand. But you choose to keep your mouth shut, slumping further into the cushions of the armchair. 
Will’s eyes don’t leave you. They remain fixed on you as if willing you to speak, to tell him something that would make all of this suddenly go away. Anything.
He wants you to read his mind, and understand his pleas, but you can’t— and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You don’t do anything, don’t even move a muscle and after a few moments of waiting, Will finally breaks the silence.
“I don’t want him to do this to anyone else,” he says. His words are soft and quiet, but they carry a weight that you feel in your chest.
“Yet you didn’t start with that. You chose to lie.” 
Will sighs. He looks exhausted as if you’ve been here asking him questions for hours, even though it’s been twenty minutes at most.
“I didn’t want you to stop me. There, I said it,” he says. “It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. Can you just cut me some slack over here?”
You don’t answer right away. You don’t know what to think or what to say about this whole situation. It seems absurd, and you have to remind yourself that you might’ve paused your story with Will Graham, but for him time has passed, things have changed.
You’re not proud of the words that leave you next. God, you wish you could just catch them in the air before they have a chance to reach his ears and put them back in your mouth.
“Change your fucking tone, Will.”
You’re shocked with your own words, but Will doesn’t seem annoyed or offended, not like most people would. He’s still staring at you, but you notice the slightest hint of amusement in his expression as if this new side of you intrigued him rather than annoyed him.
“You don’t like me speaking to you like that, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He makes no attempts to sound serious—just enough to make you laugh, but his words carry weight. He’s genuinely curious.
Will Graham just called you “my dear” and your whole face warms up at this term of endearment as you observe him fall to one knee in front of your person.
“What are you doing?” you choke out, confused, butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.
Will takes his time to reply, his eyes scanning you and your reactions. He seems to enjoy the sight of you flustered, barely keeping up with what’s happening right in front of your face. His heart skips a beat more than twice in the span of a few seconds.
“I’m proposing.”
The words seem so absurd that you half expect him to break the tension with a quick joke, but he doesn’t. His gaze is glued to you, his words as serious as they can be. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react. Your mind is frozen.
“What the fuck, Will?”
Will grins at that and shakes his head as if he’d expected your reaction to be no different. He keeps his stance, one knee on the floor, as he stares at you affectionately—with so much love you’re surprised he doesn’t explode from it. The man is enjoying your confusion and the fact that he managed to pull it out of you. He’s not ashamed to admit it, either.
“That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for,” he says quietly and in a matter of time, his hand is on your thigh, tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric of your pajama pants. “You were always going to say no for the first time.”
You blink at him, trying to coax out words from within you, but you don’t find any. That only makes you even more confused, and your expression turns to a frown. Is he really… asking you to marry him?
“I know, I’m quite the romantic.” He pauses, trying to stifle his chuckle. “Do you want me to ask you the usual way?”
“Will, are you serious?” you ask, your voice so gentle the words barely sound like they’re yours. Will only nods his head. “I don’t want you to ask at all. I want us to get married as soon as possible.”
He reaches down to grab your hands in his. “I never believed in marriage. I’m not sure if I do now either,” he admits awkwardly, playing with your fingers. “But I really want to hear people call you Mrs. Graham.”
Your heart jumps as he speaks as if you’d been waiting for him to admit those words for years. The words sink in slowly and your eyes become distant, as if you’d been taken back in time. A warm feeling spreads across your chest like you just swallowed a whole bottle of wine in one ginormous gulp.
“You know I can’t say no.” Your words are quiet and soft. He pulls you down onto his lap, his hands still around your fingers as he brings them to his chest. “Can I call you mine too?” 
“Always,” Will replies, his voice low and quiet, but full of love and emotion. “It’s been you all along.”
A soft smile rests on your face as you look down at him. Your head is right above his, but you decide to close the tiny distance between you by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You feel your heart race as you do so.
“Did you come up with this to distract me?” Your voice is playful, but the air around you is thick and humid. 
Will leans forward and wraps his arms snugly around your waist, hugging you tight. Your fingers play with his curls, his head back on your chest. The whole weight of him hangs onto you like all the sins in the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Maybe,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips, even though he seems serious.
You can feel his body shift, and suddenly Will presses you firmly against the growing hardness inside his jeans. The whimper that pushes past your lips as you feel it through the thin layer of your pajama pants is downright desperate. You both can’t hide the fact that your breaths are becoming more irregular, muscles tensing under each other’s hands.
“I like being distracted like this,” you whisper, your nose nuzzling against his temple. 
A low growl comes from the man’s chest. You’re close enough to the source of the sound to feel the vibration against your body. He presses his face to your neck, taking in the scent of your skin like he’s oxygen-deprived.
“Should I distract you too, Will?” you ask him quietly, tugging at his tousled hair.
“You’ve done enough, dear. I’m already distracted.” His voice is soft, and his words catch in his throat. Will doesn’t seem to have a single rational thought going through his head. It’s like all he can process is his need for you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a spell cast on him. “I want you.” His hand moves to your hip, and he presses into you harder, your breath catching in your throat. “Please.”
And who are you to deny him of anything his soul could ever want or need? You don’t wait for more encouragement as your fingers start working on hastily unbuttoning his shirt. They trace the smooth lines of his chest, the scars that mark his skin, and every little detail of him—every part of his history that he once saw as a defect. It’s not. It’s who he is, who he’s always been—his past is a part of what made him the Will you know and love. 
Your fingers slowly make their way down to his belt and unclasp it too in one go. You graze over his hardness on accident, already feeling its heat through the thin layer. You let out a whimper and your whole brain starts to short-circuit. 
“Slowly.” Will’s voice is hoarse and raw, his fingers digging deeply into the skin of your hip. “I want to see you.”
The man doesn’t waste any time in waiting for your reaction as his hand moves up to your face. His touch is gentle as it pushes back your hair, his fingertips rubbing against the skin behind your ear before they start pursuing the shape of your neck—every muscle and tendon.
“Slowly,” he repeats, and you can’t help but groan.
Nevertheless, you obey, letting your hands explore every surface of his flesh again like he’s the perfect puzzle that you need to solve. His own mirror yours, sliding below the thin layer of your t-shirt, grazing over your navel, and pushing upwards.
Every move you make leaves its mark, causing his body to tremble even more. His breath becomes so uneven, you think he might fall apart at any moment. The mere sound sends shivers down your spine.
“Yes, like that,” he mumbles, and his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers these words. His hand moves again and starts to tug at your shirt.
You help him remove it in one go, left in only your plaid pajama bottoms. Will’s touch is familiar, one you could never forget—not like the dozen strangers through the past few years, you never even remembered their faces come tomorrow morning. But his touch sets you ablaze—burns and soothes at the same time, it’s unforgettable.
Will reaches up to pull your head against his so that you’re staring straight at one another. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity to it that you can’t mistake. His lips slowly approach yours with such an intense need that you can read it in his gaze. Even though he doesn’t say it, you feel that this kiss is more than just desire—it’s a need to be as close to you as possible, to never let you go again. His tongue delves inside your mouth, and you sigh into it.
The feeling of your skin pressed against his leaves Will desperate, his mind so overwhelmed and in a haze, he can’t even form the words to describe the sensation. His hand keeps moving as if your flesh were an addiction. The sound that leaves from his throat is something so close to a purr—he’s almost embarrassed. 
You feel his body tensing, his muscles flexing against yours, and your skin feels hot and all too sensitive. He’s taking advantage of this moment to touch you anywhere he can reach. His fingers leave no inch of your skin unexplored as he slowly begins to lower your pajama bottoms.
“God, you’re beautiful.” The sound of your voice draws Will’s eyes closed as he inhales deeply.
Will’s fingers glide down toward your legs, and he looks as if all his dreams are coming true at once. You see his eyes flicker open, and he looks at you with such intensity, such concentration, that it’s hard to breathe as you’re pulled along by an invisible force. He finally lets go of your chin so that he can drag your pajamas down further until they’re thrown across the room. 
You take his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts. And it’s only when his teeth drag across your neck, from just above your collarbone down to the crook of your shoulder, that he loses it completely. 
There’s no being slow or gentle when he pushes you away, standing up and pulling you to your feet. You take hurried steps back as he nudges you toward the bed. Soon enough, your calves hit the mattress and you fall back onto the blue duvet. You don’t even have a chance to take a breath, Will is hovering over you, elbows on each side of your head. 
“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, looking deep into your eyes—so deep you’re afraid he can see the broken soul behind them. 
You help him push his jeans and boxers down the length of his legs. The second they’re no longer an obstacle, Will’s fingers delve between your thighs, circling your clit teasingly with the gentlest of touches. Your lips part in a gasp, hands falling onto the covers to clench them in your fists.
“Will, please,” you plead between whimpers. He was the only one who could ever bring you to the point of begging, and you hope he knows it somewhere deep within. 
The man faces you with glassy eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lips. He doesn’t need you to say anything more, he just nods feverishly and lets your fingers guide him inside. The sensation of your heat gripping him tightly makes him groan, lips falling agape. You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing them behind his back, and pull him even closer. 
“Will,” you moan his name against his lips.
It spurs him on, makes him even more eager to please you. He draws back almost completely, then buries himself inside you again in one smooth motion. Your thighs tremble visibly, and it almost makes him smile. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, fingers tugging on his curls. 
Will rocks into you deep and steady, one of his hands digging into the meat of your thigh with so much force it hurts—but goddamn, you love this kind of pain. And he makes it feel even more heavenly when his thumb begins to trace circles over your clit.
It doesn’t take him long to take you over the edge—hard and fast—turning you into a mindless, hot, whimpering mess. You mumble his name over and over again as your heat pulses around his length, making him come just a few moments after you. He claims your mouth with his, making you taste your name on his lips. God, does it taste heavenly.
Night came quicker than you realized, covering the sky with bright stars and a full moon. Despite it, it’s not pitch black outside. The shimmering snow reflects the shining lights, fighting off the darkness well enough. It doesn’t make you feel any less threatened, even though it should.
You’re wrapped only in the blue duvet that covered the bed, as you lie on your side, facing Will, who’s already asleep. His bare thigh is right against yours, and the heat of his skin is almost impossible to resist. You let your eyes wander across his body, his physique—he looks like a sculpture, a masterpiece of flesh and bone.
Your body still aches from his touch, and you feel like you’re a puddle of emotions with the sole mission of holding love, affection, and desire for him. You’re about as far away from being “fine” as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to tell him you’ll be working together from now on. He doesn’t know he’s allowed back in BAU, and you wonder if you should leave him unknowing for as long as possible. It’s not your greatest idea, but the idea of him breaking beyond repair terrifies you.
You try to calm your heart as it races and skips a beat every time his body shifts—the smallest movement seems like it could wake him up. But as you lie there in the darkness, his hand reaches out and finds its rightful place on your thigh again, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The sensation makes you almost jump out of your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Why are you awake?” he asks with half-closed eyes.
“Can’t sleep,” you reply softly, wanting to touch him back, but not sure if you should.
“I figured,” he murmurs. “You didn’t sleep much yesterday either.”
You sigh sadly, you didn’t think he’d noticed. His hand moves up your thigh, almost instinctively, until it touches you just below your hip. It stops there, and your eyelashes flutter at its warmth against your skin.
“You can touch me.” Will’s voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, and you don’t have to be told twice.
Your fingers slip under the duvet, so the fabric doesn’t block your touch, and you begin to trace the outline of his leg with the tips of your fingers. Will’s eyes finally open, and he looks almost nervous at the intimate touch—until you find the spot where he’s ticklish. He lets out an adorable whimper, so naturally, you laugh and keep going.
“No, no, please stop,” Will moans, trying to fight back his chuckles, squirming as he tries to get away from your touch. The whole time he’s half-smiling, his fingers digging into the duvet for stability. He tries to grab your hands, but it only makes you laugh harder. 
You find another ticklish spot on the side of his torso and continue to tease him. Eventually, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watch Will scoot back, out of your reach. Your sour mood from before is gone in an instant.
Will moves up so that he’s sitting up against the wall, practically on the edge of the bed, and he looks almost offended by your reaction. Your gaze shifts, so you can get a fuller view of him.
“I’m not as ticklish as you think,” he says, his tone serious, though you can still hear a tremble in his voice. “If you wanted to see me squirm,” he adds, “you could’ve found a different method.”
The words send a shiver down your spine, and you immediately pull the sheets up to cover the bottom part of your face, trying to hide your flustered reaction from his eyes. 
“You’re so cute,” he says, his voice just a whisper, almost as if he was afraid that anything above a murmur could wake the dogs sleeping by the fireplace. “So adorable.”
Will’s hand rests on your head, his fingers playing with the strands of hair that cover your ears. You can feel him studying you—how your nose twitches and your eyes almost close as you wait for his next words. Something about it feels intimate as if he’s taking in every detail of your expression one by one. It’s been a while since he’s done that, you didn’t even realize how much you missed it.
“You can pull it down, you know,” he says playfully, his hand still in your hair. “This must be suffocating.”
“I know,” you say quietly, as you pull the sheets down from your face.
Will’s fingers interlace with yours, and you can feel his thumb circling your wrist. 
“And yes, it is a bit suffocating.” You pull the sheets down to your collarbones, and a chill runs through your body as the cold air touches your arms. “Maybe you can warm me up.” 
Will smiles—a small, sweet smile, with a bit of mischief thrown in.  “Maybe I can,” his tone is playful as he pulls you close, your cheek finding a home on his chest, right above his heart.
After a few long minutes of silence and listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, you turn to face him, resting your chin above his pec.
“We’re back on the team, you know?” you mumble almost mindlessly.
Will looks down at you, his expression gentle as he caresses your hair. 
“I know.”
His gaze trails down your face and lingers on your lips for a brief moment before it shifts again. There are so many things Will wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it—he fears it would ruin these quiet, peaceful moments between you two.
You don’t question how he already knows that, choosing instead to voice your other thoughts—ones that’ve been on your mind almost the whole day. “What did Alana want from you?”
Will’s hand pauses against your face when you bring up her name, and for a moment he seems speechless, which is rare a thing for him.
“I…” He trails off but then speaks again as if he’s found the courage to say the words. “Alana wants me to stay away from Hannibal,” he says quietly, his fingers moving on your cheeks, your brows, your chin, as if his hand isn’t allowed to stay still for a second without touching the flesh it can. “She’s sleeping with him.”
“Why does she want you to stay away?”
“Because I tried to kill him.”
You don’t even blink at his confession, there’s no fear in your gaze—no ounce of surprise. There was a time in your life when this revelation would’ve shocked you, broken you in half, but after your father’s death, when you’re faced with it, it’s… easy to handle. Will expected this kind of indifference, he knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t judge nor be afraid.
“How?”
Will lets your question hang in the air for a long minute before he speaks. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.
“Not by my hand—not like that,” he starts. “Hannibal has a lot of… a lot of hold over me,” he pauses again, “he made me want to do it.” It’s probably the most vulnerable, the most genuine explanation Will has given anyone. He’s speaking to you from the heart and in pure honesty. “An opportunity fell on my lap to send someone after him, so I took it.”
You nod your head in acknowledgment—it makes sense to you. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”
A hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. He moves his fingers to the nape of your neck and to caress the lines of your ear—it’s something he always used to do when he was thinking and you were nearby. “Alana’s very upset with me.”
Will’s other hand slides over your thigh, his fingers teasing the skin, almost as if he was trying to test it, like a cat with a piece of string. He’s still thinking when his hand starts to move upwards, closer to your hip.
“Don’t take it to heart,” you advise him, leaving a soothing peck on his jaw. It was the best you could do.
“I’m trying.” He laughs in a low rumble, his hand moving between your legs and your whole body tenses. “I’m trying,” he says again.
The touch is so soft and gentle—almost teasing, yet your body seems to be craving it. It makes him nervous, but also excited, and when he closes his eyes his head just falls back to rest against the wall, his teeth showing as he breathes in deeply.
“Would you have done this if I…” his words trail off into silence as the man doesn’t seem certain about how to finish his sentence. He looks at you, his face revealing all the questions that he doesn’t dare to ask.
You grasp his jaw between your hands, encouraging him to speak his mind, but being unconditionally patient at the same time. He tries to say something again, then changes his mind. It’s as if he’s playing a constant game with you, trying to reach into your mind without opening his mouth like most people do.
“If you…”
“If I was still the same,” he mumbles out finally.
“Will, you are still the same person. Perhaps a little more broken than before, but it’s still you.”
Will stays silent and still for a minute with his eyes closed, his hand still between your legs. The tips of his fingers keep barely touching you, almost a caress, although a bit harsher than before.  His lids flutter open, so you can see his face as it’s lit by the moonlight.
“There’s something I’d like you to promise,” he says cautiously as if every word is carefully thought out before he speaks it aloud. “Promise me that you’ll keep trusting in me... even if you don’t understand.” 
Will’s hand moves up from between your legs so that he can touch your waist and hold you in place. The fingers of his other hand stroke your face down to the side of your neck, and you can feel how your heart starts to beat faster and faster with each touch.
“I will always trust you, Will. Just never lie to me again, have a little faith in me too.”
Will lets his eyes fall down to your lips again, and he can’t help but bite his own in response. As if he was trying to hold himself together but the urge to kiss you was almost too strong, the way his gaze kept shifting. 
When his lips touch yours—it’s a long, slow kiss, deep and gentle at the same time. He holds you in place, your hips pressed against his as if he doesn’t want you to move, even a centimeter. And you don’t dream of being anywhere else but here—by his side.
“I love you, Will.”
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black-aurora-nora · 1 year
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Sibling Squabbles | Yandere!Superman and Jon x Teen!Reader
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“Jon, please get out the way.” You demanded in an even tone.
The younger boy didn’t budge from his spot in front of the door. His gaze held firm and he shook his head, “Dad said you couldn’t leave.”
“Clark doesn’t hold authority over me.” You reminded him matter of factly, “He’s not my father and I’m not your sister.”
Jon frowned deeply at your words, “Dad said you’d have a hard time-“
“Move, Jon!” You demanded again, louder.
You moved up to him, trying to shuffle past him with your backpack filled with a few essentials.
“Where would you even go?! You were homeless before this!”
“And? At least I wasn’t stuck in some house with creepy men!” You rebutted angrily, grabbing for the doorknob.
Jon grabbed your wrist, gripping it tight, “I’m not creepy! And neither is my dad! Take that back!” He knew that his dad told him to be gentle with you since you were still settling down but you were going too far.
“No! I mean it! You’re creepy!” You repeated sharply, trying to wrestle your wrist from Jon’s grip. “Ugh! It’s no wonder your mom left-!”
A sickening crack sounded from your wrist and you saw it crinkle in a way it wasn’t supposed to then a horrible pain that left you screaming from both the shock of what happened and the pain.
Jon stood frozen, breathing uneven.
He looked from your crumpled arm to your snotty face.
He hadn’t meant to hurt you. His father had warned him plenty of times to use his powers for good and here he was hurting you because you said something hurtful.
“I-I’m- (Y/N), I’m so-!” He reached out to you and you jerked back violently with a yelp.
“Stay the fuck away from me!” You snapped, opening the door with your good hand and running out towards the trail that led to the city.
Jon decided it best that he not follow you.
He knew you wouldn’t escape now anyhow. You were far too hurt and in too much shock to get far enough. And no one would allow a young teen like you to walk around with a broken arm if you did make it to the city.
The next time he saw you, which was a day later, his father had brought you back home with a blue cast on your arm.
You looked exhausted, pissed off, and every other negative emotion that people could feel.
Clark had you both in the living room and glanced at the two of you sternly. He looked at you first with an expectant gaze.
“(Y/N), apologize to your brother.” He said, arms crossed.
You kept your gaze on the cast for a moment.
A deep breath in, “Sorry.”
“You can do better than that.” Clark wasn’t one that took apologies lightly. You had to put your full heart into it. “Remember what we talked about at the doctor’s.”
Another deep breath, “Sorry for saying stuff about your mother.” You gritted out, “And about you… I didn’t mean it.” Your voice was incredibly monotone but Clark knew that was the best they were going to get from you right now.
He knew there’d be plenty more altercations in the future to teach you how to apologize properly and honestly.
He turned to Jon, “Be more careful in the future,” He reminded him simply, “And apologize to your sister.”
Jon’s lip wobbled as he gazed at you and you wished great harm upon him. How dare he act like he was the one that had been victimized? Like he was innocent?
How dare Clark make you apologize first when Jon had hurt you? Now you were stuck in a cast and had been set back.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I won’t do that ever again and I forgive you.” He gave you a teary smile, “I know you’re having a hard time and I should’ve kept my anger in check.”
Clark smiled warmly, “Try to keep the sibling squabble to a minimum, okay, you two?” He patted you both on the head.
He then stood up and made his way to the kitchen, “Who wants breakfast?” He asked, tying an apron around his person, “I’m thinking waffles, eggs and bacon!”
Jon licked his lips, “I’ll have some! Can I help?!” He asked excitedly, running after his father.
“Of course you can, Jon.” You heard Clark answer from the kitchen, “(Y/N), come join us.”
God you hated them with every fiber of your being.
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Shine Bright Like A Winner
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: implied smut
Summary: You have your eyes set on a very expensive necklace at an auction. So does someone else. When you lose, he pays you a special visit and confesses something you've been wishing for a while now.
Square Filled: stranger for @acrosstheuniversebingo (deleted bingo)
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Your favorite part about being rich is going to auctions and bidding for expensive things. Yes, that sounds arrogant and snobby but you have an entire wing at your house dedicated to rare and valuable items you’ve won across the world. It’s a sort of collection that you’ve been obsessed with growing. It’s the same as someone having a snow globe collection or a keychain collection. Instead of small trinkets, you’re dedicated to collecting one-of-a-kind items.
A few of your favorite pieces are a balloon animal made of steel and mirrors designed by Jeff Koons, a 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO Berlinetta, and a portrait of Marilyn Monroe done by Andy Warhol. You love traveling and seeing different cultures and owning parts of that culture for yourself. 
They are nice conversation pieces.
This auction, however, has only one thing you’re interested in. Queen Marie Antoinette’s Pearl. It would make a nice addition to your valuable jewlery collection with the occasional night out with your friends. You're currently in Italy for their annual auction that’s exclusive for only the extreme wealthy. You’re sitting in your seat fanning yourself with a personal fan as you wait. People are still coming in when you notice a tall man wearing a sleek black suit.
Your eyes narrow slightly once you recognize him. Dr. Spencer Reid. He’s rich, a doctor, and so delicious looking. He’s not a doctor of medicine but that’s neither here nor there. You have fantasies of calling him doctor in the bedroom. His brown eyes lock with yours and a smirk brands his beautiful face. He sits down on the other end of the audience but in perfect view. It doesn't matter if there are other people sitting in between you. He’s tall enough for you to see him above everyone else’s heads.
The auctioneer stands on stage and begins the service. There are some good items up for grabs but nothing that catches your eyes. The auctioneer moves from the paintings, statues, and other trinkets to the jewelry section. Spencer notices you sit up a bit straighter telling him you’re interested in what’s to come. The auctioneer passes by beautiful jewels until he gets to the one you have your eye on.
“Next on our list is a very valuable, very rare necklace. Once worn and owned by none other than Queen Maria Antionette. The bidding starts at ten million dollars. Do we have any takers?”
“Ten million,” you say and raise your bidding stick.
“Ten million! Do I hear eleven?”
“Thirty million,” Spencer says and raises his stick.
You narrow your eyes at Spencer who hasn’t stopped looking at you since he saw you were interested in this.
“Fifty,” you argue.
“Sixty.”
“Eighty.”
“One hundred million.”
Are you willing to spend one hundred million on something like this? You certainly have the money but is it worth it?
“One hundred and ten million,” you say before you can stop yourself.
“One hundred and fifty million,” Spencer says immediately after.
You can’t do that. Sure, you could keep going higher since you’re a billionaire but you didn’t become a billionaire by spending your money all willy nilly. You lean back in your chair and cross one leg over the other without saying anything.
“One hundred and fifty million going once,” the announcer says. “Going twice… Sold! To the gentleman in the sleek black suit!”
You’d be more upset over the loss but you’ll negotiate a price later with him. That necklace is going home with you, you know that much.
The rest of the auction goes by without a problem but your eyes didn’t leave Spencer. He kept his back turned to you the entire time but he knew your eyes were on him. Afterward, you headed back to your hotel since you’re flying back to the States the next day. Before you could get undressed for bed, someone knocks on your door. You’re still wearing your elegant dress but without shoes so the bottom of the dress drags on the ground whenever you walk.
You look through the peephole and see none other than Spencer standing on the other side. You open the door and look up at him since he’s much taller than you especially without the shoes.
“Hey, stranger. Are you here to rub it in my face that you won?”
“Turn around.”
Spencer steps inside your room forcing you to step back from him. He closes the door and you turn to face the hall mirror. He takes something out of his suit jacket pocket. You don’t see what it is until he wraps it around your neck. The necklace. Queen Marie Antionette’s Pearl. It shines brightly against your skin like it was always meant to be there.
“The necklace,” you whisper and look at him through the mirror.
“Only someone like you can pull off wearing something like this.”
“I’m not going to argue with you about that,” you smirk.
Spencer moves your hair to the side and presses soft kisses up and down your neck. He kisses up to your ear and sucks your earlobe into his mouth. You resist letting out a moan.
“You want to know what I’d really like to do now?” he whispers.
“What?”
He looks up and locks eyes with you through the mirror.
“Fuck you while you wear only this necklace.”
“What’s stopping you?” you grin.
Spencer turns you and picks you up bridal style. Suddenly, you’re not so mad at him for winning. Right now, you feel like the winner.
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i-like-media · 9 months
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I imagine Donna to still eventually ask what the doctor has been up to. Maybe she does so while they're stuck doing a chore together like the laundry or dishes. And the doctor will try to avoid it like he always does, but caves under Donna's stare. He'd still keep it vague, speaking more about the companions the toymaker spoke of and cautiously daring to honour their memory like that while keeping himself away from the hurtful bits. He even jokes a bit about who he ended up becoming. He'd admit he had an obsession with bowties and had sonic sunglasses once, and Donna would laugh and say she'd LOVE to see that.
Then, after a pause, Donna asks if he's ever stumbled upon her with a different face, and with a hushed breath he admits he hasn't.
She grows a bit silent, grieving a thought she wished were reality. And then the doctor pipes up again.
"This isn't actually the first familiar face I've gotten...-WELL not another one of my OWN faces, but certainly something familiar."
Intrigued, Donna stops what she's doing and listens to him explain further.
"When I first got it I couldn't place where I'd gotten it from. I just, knew it was familiar...... -I didn't linger on it as long as I should've and I moved on rather quickly."
"Why?" Donna asked, a bit bewildered at the thought of it.
"I was careless and angry and sort of... Scottish.-ANYways one day me and Clara were dragged to this viking village that had gotten itself into trouble, and we helped them. But this village girl had, uhm... Well she didn't make it. I was so angry -I remember that anger really well. And Clara kept on asking if there was something I could do..."
"Well, was there?" By now both of them weren't doing their chores anymore and all they could hear was the singing of a couple of starlings outside.
"...Yes, but it would've broken some rules."
Donna already knew what exactly he meant by that. She would figure that's the end of it, yet the doctor kept on talking.
"But then as I was rotting in my defeat, I remembered this important day I shouldn't ever have forgotten. The day we were in Pompeii... And only then did I realise that face, MY face, was a reminder of something very important you told me. To just, save someone."
"...So you mean, your face..." The doctor nodded, and Donna couldn't help but finally release the breath she'd been holding with a smile.
"I did save her and she ended up living a long, long, longlonglonglonglong life... But even after hundreds of years, when I doubted myself and needed it most, Donna Noble... Your impact on the world and my life, persisted."
And I imagine the doctor to give her a big, proud smile, before Donna pulls him in for a big hug he wasn't expecting to receive. Because maybe, just maybe, that was exactly what she needed to hear that day.
Then once they return to their chores, I imagine Donna to think about it a bit longer and make a comment. "Well you better never take on my face!" And the doctor would dissolve into a pouty ramble about how he has no control over it while also being a bit disappointed she's said no.
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his brown eyes had tragedy weaved behind his irises | season 3 s.r. x gn!reader
tw: mention of drugs and needles.
it was quiet in the bullpen. most agents and staff have gone home or hit the town when the clock hit five pm, while others are too engrossed with their work to deport from their desks. you being the latter, wanting to complete the paperwork from your recent case while the details are still fresh and there's less commotion filling the floor.
suit jacket slowly sliding off the back of your chair, a cup of cold tea beside a lukewarm mug of caramel-colored coffee that pen dropped off when leaving her dungeon to join the team for a drink. jj and emily tried to sweet talk their way into persuading you to abandon the manilla envelope until tomorrow morning, but you were insistent about staying so them along with derek said their goodbyes for the night. hotch also stayed behind, as usual, holed up in his office with his lights dimmed and desk lamp bright. you know he wishes to just head home to his wife and son but his position forces onto him double the paperwork.
signing to yourself as you only had five more pages to fill out and process, you pushed away from your desk and headed to the bathroom to splash some cold water to reawaken your senses. the dull steps to the bathroom was the only noise to follow you down the empty hallway, no passerby to greet or bump into, until-
"sorry- oh! spence, i thought you went home?" taking a step back after your run-in outside the doors. spencer was wide-eyed and fidgeting with his left sleeve, strands of growing hair wild and untamed. he seemed disoriented, unorganized than he usually is.
he licked his lips, "had some files to work on." his only response, not bothering with further explain. he seemed to avoid eye contact, unable to stand still for a second as he kept messing with his dress shirt or running a hand along the side of his head.
you took notice of the darkened circles under his eyes, almost a purple bruise discoloration. his cheeks more hollowed out and even his skin tone looked a bit ghostly, barely any of that natural peachy color. "are you feeling well, spence?" concern for your close friend. you raised a hand to check his forehead, but his hand wrapped tight around your wrist and he stared darkly at you.
"i'm fine. just leave me alone." he dropped your arm and rushed away leaving you in shock at what just transpired.
your mind raced as you tried to notice when this sudden change in attitude happened with spencer. it's been almost a month since spencer was in the hospital from that one case, the doctors say he was injected multiple times with dilaudid when held hostage. you heard the drug is stronger than heroin and you saw that spencer had multiple needle pokes.
he wouldn’t…. he couldn’t possibly still…. he might….
“shit,” whispering to yourself once you came to the conclusion. spencer was still using, this could get him fired from the unit if anyone finds out. was that why everyone’s been quiet and puzzled around spencer lately? did they secretly know but chose not to say anything, even in private to him?
for the past month spencer reid has been struggling in silence with no reach for help. but not for much longer. walking away from the bathrooms and back to the bullpen, you disregard your desk and casually walked to spencer’s desk. he was hunched over scattered files with a tightness to his shoulders, pen bouncing between his index and middle finger on his right hand while his left kept scratching over his body. he was fidgeting like there was a million ants crawling over him and he couldn’t fine relief.
he was a lit billboard sign screaming ‘help me! please, somebody say something!’
“spence,” giving a light knuckle knocking on his desk as greeting. he didn’t bother looking at you, just moving his head at the noise then back. you licked your lips, “i was planning on leaving in about twenty minutes and was wondering if you’d like a ride. not very safe to take the subway at his time.” this wasn’t anything new, you always offer him rides home when stuck at the office together.
“uh, not tonight. might be here for a while. lots of work to do.” he sounded distracted but he didn’t seemed concentrated by the paperwork before him. a hand rubbed at the back of his neck until it started to turn red at the harsh touch.
you stepped forward and placed a gentle hand to his back, he froze. he usually welcomed your touches compared to others but it was like you were a hot poker stinging him as you were reaching out for him. “i’m sure this can wait a few hours until you’re well rested. and more coffee isn’t gonna help at this hour.” keeping a low tone.
spencer rounded his shoulders, a nonverbal gesture to back off. “just leave me alone, y/n. you don’t have to baby me. i’m fine.” stern and cold.
you sighed in defeat and stepped away, “you’re not fine, spence. and i care about you, but i’ll wait until you’re ready to talk… see you tomorrow.” another knock goodbye as you headed to your desk and finished your file.
heading to hotch’s office with your belongs and paperwork, you poked your head inside and softly greeted him. “you should’ve left hours ago,” a gruffness to his voice as he waved you inside.
“and you should’ve been in the parking lot at four fifty-nine, but guess we don’t all get lucky.” you saw the quirk of his mouth that he tried to hide, “anyway here’s the completed file from the jeff anderson case.” sliding the folder over his dark wood desk.
hotch’s brows raise, “the case we completed-“ he looked at his watch. “twenty hours ago?”
you shrugged, “what can i say? i’m dedicated to my work. also means i won’t have to do it tomorrow morning, works out in my favor.” hitching your satchel strap higher on your shoulder, “umm… also i wanted to ask you something, kinda personal.”
hotch placed his pen onto his paperwork and closed it shut to show you undivided attention, he held a hand out to one of the chairs in front of his desk. sitting down you couldn’t tell if this was a good decision but you needed a different perspective.
“this involves spencer, i just wanted to know if you’ve noticed his behavior lately.” trying to play is cool.
hotch sighed, “l/n you know we’re not allowed to profile agents.” you rushed to speak, “yes i know, but genuinely, as a concerned friend of his, have you not noticed he seems… off?”
he went quiet, head turning to look out the window and you followed to see spencer still sitting at his desk with a frustrated expression clouding his face. he seemed like any second he would scream or throw something across the room, but all his did was pound his fist onto his desk thrice and sighed while staring at the ceiling.
“he went through something very traumatic. it’s gonna take a while for him to recover.” a diplomatic statement. not addressing the drugs and the consequences those would have. plausible deniability.
“of course. just wish he could talk to us, we’re his family.” solemnly looking at your lap. he didn’t deserve to get kidnapped and almost die, he didn’t deserve this addiction that was forced into him.
“i know, but he’ll come to us when he feels ready. until then we can only be his silent support system.” hotch sounded upset as well but was able to hide most of it. you didn’t bother saying anything in response, just a nod and a cheeky good morning to your superior before leaving his space and heading to the elevators.
“y/n, hey wait.” footsteps heavy and quick you turned to see spencer at a fast speed walk, a mild jog if it was you with you shorter legs.
turning completely to him and away from the elevator you were unprepared for whatever spencer might say, hoping he’ll speak to you about his issue. “want a ride?” deciding to pose the earlier question for further conversation.
“uh if- if you don’t mind my- my company.” two stutters and his brows pinched in the middle. he was nervous. you tried to sooth his worry with a warmly smile, “i always enjoy your company.” full sincerity dripping from your tongue.
spencer smiled hesitantly, “okay let me just,” he pointed over his shoulder and you nodded him along. he returned in under three minutes with his corduroy  brown coat keeping him warm from the sudden spring chill and his matching brown satchel slung across his chest.
“let’s hit the road, partner.” a slight pep to your step, just glad to have him with in your space. neither of you bothered with any conversation to your car, just letting nature fill the space until your engine replace that and the low volume from a radio station accompanied.
“can you stay at my place?” the abrupt question caused you to flinch and swerve the car slightly to the left then straighten out. your eyes bugged at your actions, “sorry, sorry got lost in my head and forgot i wasn’t alone for a second.” full truth with a splash of lying.
“it’s okay if you don’t-“ “of course i’d love to. lucky i have another go-bag in my trunk.”
at a stop light you looked to your right, spencer lit and shaded by a street lamp. with his hollowed eyes and chiseled features it was like he stepped out a tim burton movie, and halloween was his favorite holiday. you wanted to hold him close to your chest and card your fingers through his hair, whisper welcoming and loving reassurances against his temple while stippling kisses to his crown.
spencer reid deserved that and more.
“the lights green.” you blinked three times at spencer’s direct stare then forward to his apartment.
the comforting smell of hundreds of books mixed with a simple clean scent wafted over you and loosened your muscles. it was a universal hug from spencer welcoming you into his safe space.
“your home is very cozy. well lived in.” complimenting spencer’s living arrangements. he hung his jacket and satchel to a set of hooks beside his door then turned to you with that awkward smile of his. “thank you. definitely planning to stay here forever cause moving all this wouldn’t be any fun.” and you silently agree.
“uh, actually there- there was a reason i asked for you to stay.” spencer spoke lowly, barely wanting to acknowledge his own words.
placing your go-bag beside his couch you looked to him with hopefully an open and reassuring gaze. “you can tell me anything, spence. i’ll always be here for you.” wanting to reach out but holding back for his boundaries.
spencer wrung his hand with eyes downcast, “uh, do- do you remember the tobias hankel case? when i was kidnapped.” his voice was meek. he wanted to curl into himself.
you nodded, “yeah, i was a useless nervous wreck for those few hours. and i didn’t leave your side when you were in the hospital unless needed. i was scared to death about you.” a shakey release of breath. that case was the stepping stone for you to realize more about your feelings towards spencer.
spencer licked his lips, “and you know the doctors had to keep me for a few days to make sure i was detoxed of the drugs in my system.” he finally looked at you, those sad puppy eyes that melted your heart into a puddle.
you took a step forward, “yeah. a full week.”
“well um, uh, when- when leaving the crime scene i- i took a bottle of dilaudid. and i’ve- i’ve been-“ you took another step and stopped him with a small, “i know.” not wanting him to stress over sharing every detail.
his warm brown eyes started to shine with growing tears added with a quiver to his lips, “i- i just… i couldn’t stop myself. i don’t- i don’t want this.” a crack at the end.
you rushed forward to wrap your arms over his shoulders with a hand pushing his head into the crook of your neck. his own long limbs wrapped behind your back and pressed you close to his chest and you could feel each heave of his stuttering breaths.
“it’s okay, spence.” petting the back of his head, “you’ll get through this. i’m here to help you, i only care about your well being.” speaking in low tones, even pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. he did always say that kissing was safer than shaking hands in greeting.
“what if i don’t get better?” a hushed what if, thinking more of a hypothetical then reality in hand. you were quick to quell his fear, “you just have to take baby steps and when you’re ready you could go to na for more guidance from first hand people. even just getting through a full day is a huge accomplishment.”
spencer’s arms held you tighter, “will you stay with me? through it all.” he’s confided in private with you how he’s scared people in his life are just gonna keep leaving. especially people in the bau, you’re his second family while his mother is out of reach on an everyday bases. and at the time you chuckled lightly and said, “of course im gonna stay with you. why wouldn’t i?” and he said so easily with a shrug, “everyone eventually does.”
“i’m gonna stay with you no matter what.” your earlier thought came to mind, from the car, and you made sure to press kiss after kiss to his temple and into the crown of his head. “i love you too much to ever depart from you.” whispered just above his ear.
-
a/n: might be OFC cause i haven’t watched CM in a minute. 1 something k. title is from @unboundprompts
kinda left it a little open ended cause i fear it would get sloppy if i wrote more.
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lethalchiralium · 1 year
Note
since you've been on an angst train with the happiness aus lately, could we possibly see a little more of Simon and misuss' interactions after she lost the baby? you wrote it so well, and so raw. it was very heart breaking, but beautiful to watch them grieve and grow together.
More Than I Could Ask For | Happiness Series
a/n: i got you homie
warnings: mentions of miscarriages, medical jargon, trauma, grieving. mentions of not eating. mentions of breastfeeding.
summary: Losing a baby is difficult, Simon knows that. But as he takes care of you, all he wishes for is for you to not feel the pain anymore.
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It was hard, Simon couldn’t deny that.
He hasn’t felt pain like this since he was a boy, being reprimanded for helping a girl on the playground when she had fell. He really liked her, but his father had beat him to a pulp for even looking in her direction. That’s when he grew scared to even make friends, to make connections because his father had beat into him that everyone will leave him. Everyone.
But, as you rested your head on his chest, he knew that you wouldn’t. The television was playing one of your favorite drama series, one you used to watch all the time when you were just Winnie’s nanny. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t grateful for you loving him too.
The doctor appointment today confirmed that the tissue was dispelled and you were no longer pregnant, now came the recovery period. He had drove you home in unwilling silence, trying to get you to laugh or talk or something, but you kept your eyes fixated out your window. It was normal for you now, for the past four weeks since he found you in the bathroom. Short answers, barely talking to him but still conversing with your daughters normally, like nothing happened.
Was he tired of it? Yes. Did he understand that you needed space? Yes, but only after he talked to Price about it. He was close to ripping his hair out because you wouldn’t talk to him, but Price had pulled him from the edge. She’ll talk when she’s ready.
He was going to have to start having Soap and Gaz check on you during the day, more issues were coming up and his deployment was getting closer. Unfortunately, it would be only him, Price, and König - a friend he hasn’t seen in a long time. It wasn’t that he hated his friends, it’s just that he had the urge to stay at your side no matter what. Melt his bones down and create a physical tie from him to you, just so he could be around you. He noticed that your hair had grown out, you would have gone to the hairdresser by now to fix it. He still brushed it gently in the mornings, one less thing you would have to worry about.
You were a shell, haunting him and he couldn’t emotionally handle it. He needed you back, he needed you to smile again.
He noticed way too much of your change. Sleeping more, trying your hardest not to eat, sick - it was like you were ashamed.
That’s when it clicked.
His fingers curled through your hair, his other hand coming to rest on your cheek.
“I’m sorry.” His words were the first spoken in the room since the morning, you stilled on his chest. Your head moved so you could look up to him, tears in your eyes.
“It’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
His head moved to the side. “No, it’s not.” His thumb gently rubbed your cheek, “This happens. Miscarriages happen, you shouldn’t be ashamed.”
Your head turned back around, you whispered, “I just want to watch TV.”
“No, baby, please talk to me.” His hand kept running through your hair, trying to keep your attention. “Honey.”
Another few moments.
“Are you hungry? I can go make you something.”
“No.”
“Baby, please, you’re starving yourself.”
“It’s what I deserve.”
Simon paused, eyes widened in disbelief.
“What you deserve?”
You nodded, eyes gazing down at your lap.
His hand moved to your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were dark. “No, it’s not.” Tears fell from your eyes, his hands slipped for your face to your hands, cradling them with a soft grip. “You don’t deserve pain. You don’t deserve to starve yourself because you think you failed me.” He squeezed your hands, more tears fell from your eyes. “I just want you to feel better, I need you to feel better. Losing the baby hurts, I know it does, but you have two little girls who wouldn’t know what to do with themselves if they lost you.” He brought your hands to his chest.
“Simon…”
“They wouldn’t know what to do because I would be gone too.” He murmured, his voice small. “I can’t live without you. I’d lose myself, they’d lose me too.”
You lurched forwards, diving into his chest and letting go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck, sobbing. “I-I can’t stop feeling-feeling like this-“
“I know, love.” His warm arms were instantly around your torso, fingers curled around your waist and carded into your scalp.
“Don’t-Don’t be mad at me.”
“Why would I ever be mad at you?”
You hiccuped over your breath. “I-I’m starving myself.” Your hand held his head closer to yours, you were trying to calm down but your heart kept racing. “You’re right. I’m starving myself and I could die and leave my babies.”
“Your feelings are what makes sure you’re still human, you were scared. Scared means shutting down, shutting down means forgetting to do anything for yourself. That’s why I’m here.” His fingers twisted a lock of your hair between them before he gently pet your head, a kiss settled right behind your ear. “Let me take care of you, let me help you, let me hold you and fix you.”
If you could express the way your heart seemed to beat without being there, you would. If you could describe the disappointment that doused your insides like gasoline, the way your pain struck a match and was burning you, you would. You pressed your forehead into his shoulder, hiccuping from your sobs, “You were so excited.”
“I was, but I was scared too.” The waves Simon fought so hard to keep above kept crashing over him, pain striking his chest like lightning. “I was so scared that I would lose you.”
“Simon…”
“You don’t need to be ashamed about losing the baby. It wasn’t meant to be, I’ve come to terms with it.”
A loud sob left you, your eyes squeezed shut so tightly that it was painful. “I wanted my son.”
“I know, my love.” I wish I could take away your pain.
He held you for a long time, letting you sob your broken heart out. He kissed your head before he went to his daughters, cooking and feeding them, bathing them, and then putting them to bed. He warmed up some of dinner, planning to eat with you.
But when he came back to the dimly lit room, he found you in the center of the bed - his pillow held against your chest with an iron grip. He settled the plate with your favorite pasta on it on your nightstand before he quickly ate his portion, he’d clean the plates in the morning.
He discarded his plate on the dresser before he got back into bed with you, his arms tucked underneath the pillow so he could hold your chest, letting his fingertips faintly feel your heartbeat. His forehead settled on the crown of your head, he felt you subtly shift in your slumber.
He let tears of his own fall down his face in silence.
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He woke up in the night to you crawling back in bed, he could hear the soft cries of his youngest daughter in your arms. Your lamp was turned on, it didn’t phase his eyes as he watched you nurse your baby. Your arm held her up as you gently patted her bottom, observing your sleepy and sweet girl. A tune came from your lips, quiet as he believed you hadn’t noticed he was awake yet.
“Young men dream and old men ponder,” Gentle fingertips traced Mellie’s eyebrows, the apple of her cheeks as you quietly sang a song to her. “But what of the in between?” Mellie’s brown eyes flickered up to your face, little lashes fluttered as she blinked. Simon didn’t have to move to know that you were smiling at her. “You look more like your father.” Gently brushing her hair back with your hand before you cradled her head. Her little hand smacked against your breast, you chuckled as softly as you could as you continued, “In this life, if you should falter,” A gentle brush of her cheek had Mellie kicking her legs, eyes still watching you. “Remember these words I sing.” Simon felt the current of the ocean in his body calm, your soft voice brought him a comfort he never knew he should have been looking for.
Mellie unlatched from you, whining and whimpering. You pulled your shirt back down and moved her onto your shoulder, gently patting her back - but she pushed backwards, wanting to look at your face.
“Don’t like Mama singin’ to you right now, huh?”
Little Mellie cooed, little hands resting on your chin.
“You’re such a sweet girl. Mama loves you so much.” You brought her face towards you for a kiss, your daughter squealed with delight as you gently shushed her. “Dada’s still sleepin’, baby. He’s doing so much for us, gotta let him sleep.”
He wanted to pull you into his chest right then, to kiss your head and hold his baby to his skin. He needed nothing more than to hold his girls, all three of them. He almost moved his hand before you moved out of the bed, your footsteps silent as you made your way back to the nursery. Simon’s eyes flickered to the food he left on your nightstand hours earlier, food eaten up and fork left on the cleared plate. His chest warmed, knowing that something got through to you. That he could help you with one little thing.
When you came back to bed, he sat up - which made you jump. Your hand flew to your chest as you huffed out a breath. “Jesus, Si, you scared me.”
He held out his hand, your eyebrows furrowed with confusion but you stepped closer to your bed and took it. He gently pulled you up as you got into bed, he wrapped his arms around you wordlessly. His warm heart had a steady beat he could finally feel after so many weeks, his arms held you tight as you melted into his embrace. He held you like that until he laid you both down, his arms cradling you until morning light.
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absurdthirst · 1 year
Text
Kinktober 2023: October 15th
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Day 15: Boot Worship, Spanking/Flogging/Whipping/Caning, Lactation/Breastfeeding
Dieter Bravo x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Post-pregnancy, lactating, pumping, breastfeeding kink, paying to drink breast milk, drinking milk, breast play, grinding, frottage, cumming in pants
|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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There are some perks to being Dieter Bravo’s assistant. As crazy as he can be and put you through stress and odd situations, he is a fairly lenient boss. When you had come to him, explaining that you wished to be a surrogate for your sister who was unable to carry a child, he was cool with it. 
Did it stop the 2AM calls because he couldn’t find his favored crocs, or didn’t remember the name of that 24-hr Mexican restaurant? No. But he let you take off for all the doctor’s appointments without too much complaint, stopped doing drugs around you since it was bad for the baby, and insisted that you have a chair on set next to his to sit down in at all times. In actuality, it was pretty sweet. 
You had planned on coming back to work right away, since the baby was immediately going to your sister from the delivery room, but Dieter had pitched a fit. Telling you that even though you didn’t have a newborn to take care of, you still needed to recover from giving birth. You had compromised, telling him that you could recover and still manage his calendar from his admittedly comfortable couch. 
You hadn’t expected the questions. Dieter is one of those enigmatic souls that there is no telling what will pique his curiosity, but you hadn’t expected it to be your breast pump. Your sister and you decided that you would pump your milk for at least the first few months, or as long as you could. 
Dieter was obsessed. Like a kid with a new toy, you found him playing with the pumps. There were two that you could wear inside your nursing bra to let you pump while you just went about your day. Removing them and draining them into the storage bags as needed and putting them right back on. 
He was staring at your breasts, frowning slightly as he looked away and then looked back at them. As if he was figuring something out. Until you realized he was trying to decide if you had the pumps on or not. He kept muttering to himself, shaking his head and walking out of the room abruptly. You would think that he was on drugs again, except you haven’t ordered any from his regular supplier in nearly two months. 
So it’s a complete surprise when you are sitting on the couch, nearly two months after you have given birth and settled back into your routines with Dieter that he plops down on the sofa beside you. “How much would I need to pay you to drink your milk?” 
Freezing, your jaw hits the ground in shock. Immediately flustered and wondering what the hell is he talking about. Drinking your milk? He wants to taste it? Pour it into his cereal? What?
“Dee, what? What the fuck are you-”
“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He groans, shuffling closer and staring at you with wide, pleading eyes before his gaze drops down to your breasts and he groans. His hand moves down to his crotch, almost covering himself like he’s trying to hide something before he grabs a pillow and shoves it in his lap. “Please, I - fuck, I’ll give you a thousand dollars. Give me….two ounces.” 
“Dieter…” 
“Two, all I’m asking for is two. The baby can spare that, right? You’ve been pumping like 80 ounces a day, right? Around that?” His tone is slightly whiny, begging like he always does when he really, really wants something. 
It shocks you that he’s aware of how many ounces of breastmilk you are pumping. That means that he’s got to be looking in the freezer. You’ve been storing it here since you are here more than your own house and having it sent over to your sister’s.
“You want to buy two ounces of my breast milk to drink?” You ask, wanting to make sure you understand what the fuck your boss is asking you. “For a thousand dollars.” 
“Two, two thousand.” Dieter ups the price, biting his lip and swallowing harshly. “A thousand dollars an ounce. Please, I know it’s weird, I know that I shouldn’t ask, but please, please just let me have some.” 
His eyes are earnest, begging you. Almost more intense than the first time he has if you would have sex with him. Finally finding something he wants more than sex. 
“I don’t know…” 
“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He rushes out, his face twisted in embarrassment but Dieter has no shame when there is something that he wants. He’s willing to humiliate himself as long as self-gratification for whatever he is obsessing over happens. “Drinking it, sipping it. Swallowing it down. Knowing that it is supposed to feed me. Feed a baby, I mean. It’s natural. The most natural food a man can have.” He justifies it, always good at finding reasons for why he needs to have what he wants. “It fucking- fuck, baby, it fucking turns me on. The idea of drinking your milk.” 
You can tell he wasn’t supposed to say that. From the way he immediately snaps his mouth shut and recoils from you, like you are going to reach out and slap him. Maybe you should slap him. It’s a slappable offense, but you aren’t. 
“Two thousand dollars, for a chance to drink two ounces of milk?” You don’t dismiss the idea, or slap him and that makes Dieter perk up. Immediately nodding, making his disheveled hair wave eagerly. 
“Yeah. Please?” He begs again. “I promise I won’t ask you to sleep with me again or go get my coffee. Ohhhh your milk in coffee.” You watch as he rolls his eyes back in his head at the thought, the pillow being crammed against his lap even more and you huff. 
“How many times have you jerked off thinking about drinking my milk, Dee?” You demand, making your boss nearly cringe at the question. 
Ducking his head and turning a range of mottled reds in mortification, he mumbles too quietly for you to hear. “- times a day.” 
“What?” 
He mumbles again. “-day.” 
“I can’t hear you.” 
“Seven or eight times a day!” Dieter finally shouts, grabbing the pillow from his lap and shoving it over his face to scream into it while your brows shoot up in surprise. You know Dieter has a high sex drive, but you never imagined he could go that many times. 
While he is having his fit, you think about it for a moment. It’s two thousand dollars and you’d rather your boss ask you to drink your milk than some random pregnant lady on the street. You wouldn’t put it past him. Despite his tendencies, Dieter is actually pretty respectful. He doesn’t push when he’s rejected and if you say no, you know that he will be disappointed but he won’t get angry. 
You aren’t wearing the pumps, thank goodness, so it’s easy to manage when you pull away the pillow from your boss's face and straddle his thighs, putting your milk filled tits in his face. 
“I- what are you-” Dieter chokes out, eyes wide and fixed on the tops of your tits, wanting to touch you but this wasn’t what he asked for. 
“You don’t want to drink straight from the source?” You ask innocently. 
The fact that you are on his lap makes you fully aware that Dieter’s cock is hard. Letting you feel the way that it jumps when you ask if he wants to drink from you. Not hiding his love of the idea even a little bit. 
He groans, tearing his eyes away from your breasts to look up into your eyes. “Yeah? Really?” He asks, still not touching you, but his hands are hovering over your hips, wanting to settle on them. “I- you would let me do that?” 
“You can’t squeeze them.” You caution. “They are tender, and sore a lot of the time. But if you want to, you can nurse, suck the milk from my tits and drink it down.” It was good timing, because you were going to have to pump anyway. 
“But I-” He seems to be completely stumped as to why you would offer more. No one ever offers more when he is desperate enough to pay for what he wants. “I’ll be careful.” He promises, leaning forward to nuzzle into your bosom and inhale the slightly milky scent of your skin. 
You feel the way he twitched under you. That admittedly impressive cock throbbing against your core in a way that you hadn’t thought about before this moment. He’s hard because of you. Because of this infatuation with your tits, your milk. 
Those hands that you had worried would be carelessly eager are almost timid. Asking if he can take off your shirt, or if you would prefer to just lower your shirt. You explain that it feels better to just lower your shirt and he quickly agrees. His fingers almost worshipful as he gently pulls your breasts out, taking your warning to heart as he positions them in his face and gets his first good look at your hard nipples and burgeoning jugs. 
“Oh god. I just want to…” he lunges forward and snuggles his face between the breasts he is holding almost reverently. Nearly motorboating you but just breathing deep. “Fuuuuuuuck.” He hisses, throbbing even more underneath you and you swear that you feel a bit of wetness transfer from his sweats to your leggings. 
You wrap your arms around him, for stability, for a lack of places to hold onto him, bringing him closer and you feel him sigh into your skin. As if he has found a place he wants to stay. 
It’s not too long before he wants more. His lips move along your skin in a surprisingly romantic scattering of kisses, as if you were his lover. 
His arms slowly slide around you as he kisses around your nipple, tilting his head down, and he groans when the warm, wetness of his lips wrap around a hard nipple to pull it into his mouth. 
Dieter’s hips rock up, grinding up into yoh and he twitches harshly when he tugs on the nipple, letting the first spurt of milk hit his tongue. His groan is so loud, almost pained, it covers the gasp that you give at the sensation.
It’s so different from the pump. Warmer, wetter. More intense as he starts to suckle eagerly. Gulping down mouthfuls of milk as fast as he can while dragging you closer, making you grind down on his cock from the movement. 
You get lost in the feeling of it all. His cock hard and throbbing under you. Pressing against your sensitive clit as your hips rock. The subtly erotic sensation of his whiskers against your skin. Eagerly letting him switch from breast to breast as he drinks you down. 
Dieter drinks more than two ounces, far more than you had agreed on, but neither one of you pulls away, even trying to stop. He’s gorging himself on the warm, slightly sweet milk in great, greedy gulps, groaning as he swallows. 
You don’t realize you are about to cum until you do. Stiffening in his arms, you push your breast into his mouth more as your back arches, a harsh cry escaping your lips. Pleasure washing over you in waves, and you don’t realize that Dieter is moaning your name. Rocking his hips up harshly to keep the friction going until he’s throbbing against your core. The warmth of his cum coating the inside of his sweats as he cums in his pants, drunk off your breast milk. 
“Holy shit.” You pant as he pulls away, milk drunk and softening underneath you as he swallows one last time. 
“Fuck, baby.” He groans. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”
360 notes · View notes
callsign-dexter · 2 months
Text
First Time Fears 18+
Request: Could you do a request for Will Halstead where the reader is nervous about sleeping with him since she's still a virgin if that's okay with you
Pairings: Will Halstead x Reader
Warnings: fluff, angst, smut
Masterlist
A/N: thank you @bellarkeselection for requesting it. I love Will and wish he got more love.
A/N 2: @talesofreading and @imagine-all-the-fandoms prepare yourself it's a steamy one.
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It's funny how fear can stop you from doing things that you really want. For example, you want to sleep with your boyfriend, Will Halstead, but the fact that you are a virgin and scared to get too intimate with him has stopped you. Stopped you every time. You're so self-conscious about it that whenever it gets brought up or you get to that point you close up and run away. You hated that you got this way. Will is a lovely boyfriend. He takes care of you when you're sick or just had a bad day. He cooks most of the time, you cook too but it’s not as good as his even if he goes on a health kick. It didn’t help that you worked with his brother and he kept asking how your relationship was with Will, it was lovely you had nothing to worry about but it tends to freeze when it comes to intimacy. You met Will when you and Jay Halstead, Will’s brother, had gone to the hospital to question a witness that had been brought in after an attack. When you both looked at each other you both knew it was love at first sight, from that day on you both exchanged numbers and began talking and about 4 months of talking and him taking you on dates he asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes.
Currently you were out with your friends that you had come to grow and love when you moved to Chicago 8 years ago. You 3 had been chatting nonstop about everything and then it came to the topic of sex. Audrey was married to an accountant, Samantha was engaged to a teacher, and Jenna had a mechanic boyfriend and of course there was you who had a doctor boyfriend, everyone was jealous of you since you had a doctor as a boyfriend. “Oh my gosh Josh and I had the best sex last night.” Audrey said.
“Oh, do tell.” Samantha said, propping her elbows up and sipping her coffee.
“He tried this new thing with his tongue and oh my gosh it had me seeing stars.” Audrey said as the others leaned forward to listen but you sat back and became quiet. 
“Did you do anything to return the favor?” Jenna asked
“Oh, you know it.” Audrey said and now you were hoping for a phone call to be called into work not wanting to spend another second talking about sex life. You wanted to have sex with Will but you were afraid, afraid that something would go wrong and that it would hurt. You knew it would hurt some but after reading people’s experience online and some said that they didn't recover for a month you got scared and clammed up. “So, what about you and Will?” Audrey asked and you were so out of it that you didn’t even hear your name.
“Huh?” You asked 
“I asked how your and Will’s sex life was.” She said and everyone was now looking at you and suddenly you became self-conscious. 
“We haven’t had any sex yet.” You said and they all gasped.
“Are you two, ok? You’ve been together for 7 months?” Samantha asked 
“It’ll be 8 months this Wednesday. We’re good, everything is great. We’ve both been so busy. Me working a huge case and him having multiple night shifts we just haven’t found the time.” You said even though most of it was a lie but also the truth. You weren’t going to tell them you’re a virgin nobody knew except your doctor. There is nothing wrong with wanting to wait or being a virgin but it doesn't help your self-consciousness any. Before they could even answer your phone was buzzing and you grabbed it and it was Jay telling you that you needed to come in. “I’m sorry to cut this short but I have to go to work.” You said and everyone protested. “Hey, someone has to keep this city safe.” You said chuckling.
“Fine, you get a pass. Now go and keep our asses safe.” Jenna said and you chuckled and got up and placed some money down for your share.
“I’ll text you all later. Bye!” You said as you put on your coat because of course it was snowing.
“You better or I’m hunting you down.” Samantha said and everyone chuckled but agreed.
“I will.” You said 
“Good now shoo.” She said and you smiled and hugged them and then you were out the door. You pulled out your phone and called Jay.
“You saved my ass.” You said when he answered and he chuckled.
“You’re welcome. You on your way?” He asked as you got to your car.
“Yup, just got into my car.” You said as you opened your door and got in and shut it. You got your keys and turned the car on and was met with the heat.
“Good. Be safe getting here. Roads are slick.” He said and you smiled.
“I will be. See you in a second.” You said 
“See you.” He said and then you both hung up the phone.
You pulled out of the parking lot and headed off towards the precinct. You slid a few times but nothing to cause you to lose absolute control of your vehicle. When you arrived in the parking lot you sighed and stayed there for a minute and then your phone was ringing and you were quick to find it and look at the name and you smiled when you saw that Will was calling you.
“Hey, Babe.” You said smiling.
“Hey, Baby. Are you still out with your friends?” He asked and you could hear rustling around in the background and you wondered what he was doing.
“No, Jay called and said I needed to come into work. What are you doing?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.
“I am getting stuff to make for dinner tonight. I was calling to see if you needed or wanted anything specific. Are you going to be home tonight?” He asked 
“I’m hoping so. As for anything I need, I can’t think of anything so you’re good there.” You said 
“Sounds good. Be safe please. I don’t want you getting hurt anytime soon.” He said and you chuckled.
“Noted, Dr. Halstead.” You said knowing it drove him crazy when you called him that sometimes.
“Behave yourself.” He said and you chuckled.
“I love you. See you at home.” You said
“I love you too.” He said and then you both were hanging up.
You sighed but now you were in a better mood. You got out of your car and headed up to the steps of the precinct. An officer was quick to open it for you “Thank you.” You said to him and he smiled.
“No problem, Detective Y/L/N.” He said and then you both were quickly parting ways. You looked up and saw Trudy standing at her desk.
“Let me guess you got called in with the rest of them.” She said and you nodded.
“Looks to be that way.” You said “It was supposed to be my day off but crime never sleeps it seems.” You said chuckling and she chuckled too.
“Never. I’ll buzz you up.” She said and you smiled and nodded and walked to the gate as it made a buzzing noise and you were able to turn the knob and pull it open. 
“I can’t wait for them to put a keypad in.” You said
“Me and you both.” She said as the door closed behind you and you ascended up the stair where you were met face to face with Jay.
“Took your sweet ass time.” He said and you rolled your eyes.
“Sorry, I was talking with your brother.” You said and he chuckled.
“So, how was the brunch with your friends?” He asked as you stepped onto the floor of the bullpen.
“They started talking about their sex life. So, you really did save my ass.” You said and he chuckled.
“Sooo, how is it?” He asked, smirking and you hit his arm.
“That is none of your business.” You said glaring at him.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I don’t want to know how my brother is in bed.” He said and walked away. If he only knew that you and Will haven’t had sex because of your own silly, to you, fear he would’ve laughed in your face. You went to your desk and took off your coat. You had your gun and badge on your hip, you put them there when you got ready to come into the precinct. You were just hoping whatever you needed to be called in for went by quickly so that you could get back to you loving boyfriend and maybe someday your fiancée. As you took a seat and started your computer and booted it up you looked up at Jay at his desk.
“So, what are we doing here?” You asked. Everyone had been working on a drug bust but activity seemed to have died down so it was put on hold.
“The huge drug bust we were working on has new activity like major activity. We also got new information about it so it’s all hands-on deck again.” He said while looking at you.
“Is there any chance that we are going home tonight?” You asked
“I’m hoping so.” He replied and then Hank Voight walked in and everybody looked up at him.  
“Alright everyone gather around!” He said and everyone did. “We just got word that a drop will be happening in 30 minutes. We need to get there before it happens. Jay and Y/N I want you to take the front, Adam and Kim, I want you to take the side, Antonio and Kevin take the other side. Alvin and I will take up the rear.” He said and everyone nodded.
“Yes sir.” Everyone said in unison and headed out. As you got into the truck with Jay and put on your vest quickly as did, he, he started to drive to the location. The truck was filled with small talk until he pulled up to the spot but stayed out of view. 
“You know what sounds nice right now?” You asked
“What?” He asked 
“My nice warm bed.” You said and he chuckled.
“Cuddled up with my brother.” He asked and you hit him on his arm. “Am I wrong?” He asked, chuckling and you waited a beat.
“No. You're not wrong.” You said and he chuckled “Hey, I think it's about to go down.” You said and pointed to the scene in front of you. “Call it in. I'm going ahead.” You said as you got out and slowly and quietly closed the door. Jay was quick to call it in and then he was following you to your crouched position. 
“On my command.” Hank said through the radio.
You waited and waited until it finally went down and he gave the command everyone moved in. “Chicago PD!” Was yelled throughout the group and the criminals put their hands up and everyone was arrested. 20 people in total were arrested and several pounds of drugs were confiscated. Overall, it was a great bust. Everyone high-fived each other. You were just glad no shots were fired and nobody got hurt. Soon everyone was heading back to the precinct and doing paperwork and finally around 8:00 PM you were heading home.
“Finally! I’m escaping while I can.” You said as you were putting on your coat and everyone chuckled.
“Go. Get. Before you’re stuck here. Tell Will I said hi.” Jay said and you smiled.
“I will.” You said and started to walk out of the bullpen and down the stairs you opened the gate and smiled at Trudy. “See you later.” You said and she actually smiled.
“See you later.” She said and then you were out the door and heading to your car as you were doing so you pulled out your phone and called Will.
“Hello, Gorgeous.” His voice came through.
“Hello, Handsome.” You said and he chuckled “I’ll be happy to report that we were successful on the drug bust and I’m heading home.” You said while getting into your car after you unlocked it.
“Good. I can’t wait to see you. I’ll get dinner started.” He said 
“Awww, Will. You don’t have to do that. I’m fine with leftovers.” You said
“Not acceptable. My girl needs a meal for a job well done.” He said
“There is no changing your mind is there?” You asked
“Nope. Now get home safely.” He said and you chuckled.
“I will. I love you.” You said 
“I love you too. See you soon.” He said
“Very soon.” You said and then you were hanging up the phone and driving out of the precinct and onto the main road and to your shared home. Maybe tonight you’ll get over your fear and finally have sex with your amazing boyfriend.
20 minutes later and you were pulling up to your shared apartment and parking beside his car. You shut the engine off and got out locking it. Bitter cold slapped you in the face and you quickly walked into the building and the elevator and pressed the button. It opened and you got in and pressed the button for your floor. The doors shut and it quickly took you to your floor which luckily was the 2nd floor. You got out and walked to your door and unlocked it and the smell of your favorite meal hit you. “Welcome home.” Will said as he met you at the door and kissed you and helped you out of your coat.
“It smells delicious in here.” You said and he smiled and he chuckled.
“Only the best for my girl.” He said and kissed you until you were breathless until he pulled away when the oven beeped.
“Oh, your brother said hi.” You said and he chuckled and shook his head.
“Go and change. I’ll have dinner on the table by the time you are out.” He said and you smiled at him. He was truly too good to you.
“How did I get so lucky to have you?” You asked before taking off to your bedroom.
“I ask that to myself about you. I’m just glad you stumbled into my ER with a concussion and a gunshot wound with my brother right behind you.” He said and you smiled.
“Though I’m not happy how that situation came to be, I’m glad it led me to you.” You said and then you were heading to get changed and put your gun and badge in the safe and once you were changed and walking out, he had food and drinks on the table. He pulled the chair out for you and when you set down, he pushed you in and then he sat down in his chair. You took a bite and practically moaned and closed your eyes so you didn’t see Will having to adjust his seating or look at you with the most love someone could have for their partner. “This is delicious.” You said after swallowing and opening your eyes smiling.
“I’m glad you love it.” He said smiling and he took a bite of his. The rest of dinner was eaten in silence but he still had a problem especially with all the moaning you were making. Finally, dinner was done and you leaned back in your chair. You suddenly got up and walked over to him and he turned and you sat on his lap and brought him for the sweetest kiss ever and he kissed back. You could feel his boner and you deepened the kiss. You both kissed each other furiously until you both needed air and you looked each other in the eye as you both panted. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your forehead on his. 
“Let’s take this into the bedroom.” You said and smiled and gently got up with you in his arms and started to walk towards the bedroom. “I love you.” You said and he smiled.
“I love you too.” He replied as he gently laid you on the bed and got on top of you. He brought his lips to the side of your neck and you turned your head for him to get a better access. He kissed it slowly and passionately, occasionally nipping and then soothing it with his tongue, it made you moan and clutch onto the bedding. 
“Mmmm Will.” You moaned out and he smirked against your neck. His hands went to the hem of your shirt and he momentarily looked up at you and you nodded giving him permission. He pulled your shirt up your body and over your head. He tossed it somewhere as you laid topless in your bra, you started to get nervous. Will started to kiss down your chest and down the valley of your breasts and down to your naval. He got to your jeans. “Stop.” You said but he must’ve not heard you “Will, please stop.” You said louder and pushed on his shoulders and he did and looked up at you sitting up slightly.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asked 
“I can’t do this.” You said and he sighed.
“What is going on? This isn’t the first time you have done this.” He asked
“I’m…I’m a virgin.” You said quietly and embarrassed and you expected him to be disgusted and be done with you, you expected him to laugh but when you didn’t hear him leave or laugh you looked up at him. 
“There is nothing wrong with that.” He said and you sighed.
“I know but it’s embarrassing.” You said and shook his head.
“There is nothing to be embarrassed about. We can stop if you want.” He said and you shook your head.
“No, I want to lose it. I want to lose it to you.” You said and he smiled.
“I would be honored being your first time. We can take this at your pace.” He said and you nodded as he started to stroke your sides lovingly and tenderly.
“Please be gentle.” You pleaded and smiled and leaned up to kiss your lips.
“I promise.” He said against your lips and you nodded and he leaned back and took off his shirt showing his ripped body and his amazing abs. You leaned up and touched them and felt them flex underneath your touch. “Like what you see?” He asked, smirking, this wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him shirtless but each time it took your breath away you never expected a doctor to be so ripped.
“Absolutely.” You said and he chuckled and then started to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. You watched him practically drooling and almost whined when he got off the bed but when you saw him pushing his pants and underwear down to release his leaking angry red cock you kept quiet. You’ve seen his cock before; you’ve given him plenty of blowjobs so seeing it was no surprise. He got back up on the bed and reached behind you as you lifted up so he could undo your bra and slide it off of you, when you were exposed to him you quickly tried to cover up but he stopped you.
“You have nothing to be shy about. It’s me.” He said and you nodded and he continued to unbutton your pants and undo the zipper and pulled them down along with your underwear and off of you. Now you were truly exposed to him and he was fully exposed to you. “You’re so beautiful.” He said and you blushed and turned away. “You still, ok?” He asked and you nodded “I need a verbal answer, Baby.” He said.
“I’m ok. Please don’t stop.” You said and he smiled and nodded and leaned down and kissed your lips and you kissed back. His hand traveled down your body until it got to where you needed him the most. His other hand was by your head stroking your hair. He touched your clit and you jumped. 
“Shhh, I got you.” He said against your lips as he started to circle it, rubbing it, and pulling on it. You started to feel good and started to let out moans into his mouth. He then slid his hand through your folds and down to your entrance and he started to put a finger and you tensed up and he stopped when he felt it. “Hey, it is ok. I got you. We can stop if you want. Just say the word.” He said and you shook your head.
“No, no. Keep going.” You said and he nodded and watched your face as he slid his finger in further until he felt resistance and your breath caught in your throat. He stopped and you nodded and he slowly slid a finger into you and it felt weird and he stayed there for a minute until you nodded and he started to move it back and forth the pain went away and pleasure started to take over and you moaned. Just as you were about to cum, he pulled out gently. “Hey!” You said looking at him glaring and he chuckled.
“I wanna taste you. I want you to cum on my face.” He said as he slid down to come face to face with your slick folds. You were about to say something but he licked a broad stripe of up your folds and you moaned loudly. This was the first time he had ever gone down on you and you wonder why you never let him do it before. It was magical. Your hands went to his red curly hair and gripped it. He ate you out like you were his last meal. You would have closed your thighs around his head but his broad shoulders were keeping them open.
“Fuck, Will!” You moaned and that caused him to go faster and started to tongue fuck you and occasionally he would come up and give you clit attention biting, swirling, and sucking on it. You were close and you started to clench around nothing. “Fuck, I’m close! I’m close!” You moaned out and then he was speeding up his efforts until that knot in your stomach exploded and you were cumming on his face and he was lapping it all up like a dog would water on a hot day. Your grip on his hair tightened as he lapped up your juices through your high. When you did come down from your high and sat up making you let go of his hair. “Fuck, Will. That was so good.” You said and he smiled and you could see your slick covering his chin. “Why I haven’t let you do that until now is beyond me.” You said and he chuckled again.
“I will always make you feel good and make you cum. You don’t have to worry about that.” He said and he smiled.
“I know.” You said and then he leaned forward and kissed you. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he French kissed you. You had to admit you tasted sweet. You both broke the kiss when air was needed. 
“Are you ready?” He asked and you nodded.
“Yes.” You said and he grabbed his angry hard thick cock and positioned it at your entrance. He ran his cock up and down your folds and then slowly pushed into your entrance and when you felt it hit that resistance you tensed and he stopped. 
“We’re taking it at your pace.” He said 
“I’m ok. Go on.” You said and he nodded and rocked forward until he pushed all the way in and you felt a snap and you tensed up. Once he bottomed out, he stayed there. He watched tears fall from your eyes and he was quick to wipe them away. 
“Hey, shhhh. It’s ok. I got you. It’ll only hurt for a few minutes but I need to start moving, ok?” He asked and you nodded.
“Ok.” You said quietly sniffling. He nodded and started to rock his hips and pain shot through your body but as he started moving more the pain turned into pleasure and you started to moan. 
“I got you.” He said once you got comfortable with it and you wanted him to go faster.
“Faster.” You said 
“You sure?” He asked and you nodded.
“Positive.” You said and he obeyed and started to move faster he caged your head in with his arms and his mouth went to your neck. 
“Fuck! Squeezing me so tight!”  He moaned and your hands went to his shoulders, fingernails digging into them. “So perfect!” He moaned and you moaned with him and panted. 
“So big. Making me so full.” You moaned as you threw your head back and to the side and your nails dug into him more and hissed but he loved it. “I love you so much.” You moaned again.
“I love you too.” He replied and then his lips were on your left nipple and that had you letting out a pornographic moan.
“Fuck me!” You moaned as he swirled and licked your nipple. He didn’t stop there as he nipped and tugged on it. Just that alone was bringing you close to the edge and quickly. “Fuck, don’t stop! I’m close!” You said and then he was pulling off your left nipple and giving the right nipple the same attention. During all of that your nails had started to go down his back leaving scratch marks but he wasn’t complaining. Once he felt that your right nipple had enough attention, he pulled off of it and looked at you’re in-awe expression. 
“I can’t wait to marry you and fill you with children to watch these-” He started and cupped your breasts “swell.” He said and that had you moaning and closer to cumming. “Cum with me.” He said and released your breasts and brought one hand to your clit and started to rub it and play with it. You could tell he was close by him starting to stagger in his thrusts and you started to squeeze him “That’s right squeeze me. Cum with me. I’m close.” He said and you nodded.
“Me too. Let’s start making a baby now. I want to mother your kids and I don’t want to wait. I’m not on birth control.” You said and that all too familiar knot was back and it was about to snap. That seemed to spur him on because with one last tug on your clit you were cumming hard and then he was too. You both came with loud moans as he painted your walls white. “Fuck.” You said as you started to come down from your high.
“You’re amazing. I can’t wait to have kids with you and be your husband.” He said as he was coming down too. Once you both were blissed out, he slowly pulled out of you and you could feel his cum trickle out of you and you jumped from overstimulation when he pushed it back in. Once it was all back in, he laid on the other side of you. “Were you serious when you said you weren’t on birth control?” He asked and you nodded.
“I haven’t been on it for a while. It was screwing a lot of things up with me.” You said turning to look at him and he slipped an arm under you and pulled you into him. 
“Thank you for letting me be your first.” He whispered
“I knew from the very moment we started dating I wanted you to take my virginity. I always got scared when we started to get very intimate and that I would be hurting for months from what I’ve read.” You said and he gave you a look. “I know I know. I shouldn’t haven’t looked it up. I couldn’t help myself.” You said and he chuckled.
“I would never ever hurt you. Ever. I love you too much to do so.” He said and you nodded and smiled.
“I know and I love you too. It was amazing by the way.” You said as you cuddled into him and he started to throw the covers over you.
“Only the best for my girl.” He said and kissed the top of your head. That’s how you spent the rest of the night. In his arms with nothing to worry about. The smell of his cologne and the scent of sex was lulling you to sleep. Your eyes finally slipped closed and breath evened out. Once Will felt your breath even out, he kissed your head one more time and he finally allowed himself to fall asleep. Both not knowing that one of his strong swimmers had made contact with an egg and life was being created inside you. 
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