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5sospenguinqueen · 7 months ago

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Love To Hate | Daniel Ricciardo x Gasly! Reader

Summary: Daniel Ricciardo is known for bickering with Pierre Gasly's older sister online. The fans love it but they suspect there might be something more behind it.

Warnings: Swearing. One sexual innuendo. Female reader.

Takes place in the 2022 season so Daniel is with McLaren.

Main Masterlist

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mclaren just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and others

mclaren spot the difference #MonacoGP tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo

2,446 comments

YourUserName the one on the left can actually drive

→ User 1 wtf does she know about f1

→ User 2 um, her baby brother is a GP winner so…

danielricciardo @ YourUserName coming from the woman who failed her driving test twice

→ YourUserName @ pierregasly you weren’t supposed to tell your little racing friends that!

→ pierregasly do not drag me into this nonsense.

landonorris @ YourUserName thanks pookie

→ danielricciardo more like pukie

→ YourUserName you’re just mad that he gets bitches and you don’t

→ danielricciardo okay, cradle snatcher

User 3 mom and dad are fighting again

danielricciardo here’s to a good weekend 💪

→ YourUserName ass licker

→ danielricciardo you wish.

→ maxverstappen1 can you guys not do your foreplay privately

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YourUserName just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, lilymhe and others

YourUserName soaking up the sun before the madness resumes (01/06/2022) 🌻

2,488 comments

danielricciardo i need to bleach my eyes. please cover you up before you mentally scar someone else.

→ User 5 he says like his jaw didn’t drop when this came across his timeline

User 6 how to become y/n gasly

→ YourUserName have an annoying brother and endure his equally insufferable friends

lilymhe the only reason i’m still with Alex is so i have an excuse to spend time with you in the paddock

→ YourUserName we could get married and then you could see me all the time??

→ alex_albon it’s a good thing I’m used to this or i might cry

→ georgerussle63 don’t lie. i can hear you sobbing from my hotel room.

MaleFriend wow 🥵 → danielricciardo try harder (comment deleted)

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PierreGASLY you’re both certified yappers. it’s why the two of you together is a nightmare

User 7 hmm, okay but why were you two together in the first place if you hate each other…

→ danielricciardo I was bullying her

→ YourUserName pierre ditched me to talk to a pretty girl and daniel was making fun of the fact that i got lost

→ LandoNorris i wouldn’t have left you… just saying 👀

→ YourUserName i’m 10 years old than you, boo.

→ LandoNorris age is just a number

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danielricciardo just posted

liked by mclaren, scottyjames31 and others

danielricciardo preferred mode of transport... fast

6,443 comments

YourUserName title of your sex tape “i'm in love with my car”

YourUserName someone’s clearly compensating for something

→ danielricciardo omg why are you so obsessed with me. get out of my comments, stalker

→ YourUserName let’s not forget you stalked me first

→ danielricciardo where’s your proof

→ pierregasly here. you begged me for her instagram until i gave in

→ danielricciardo and then i realised what a bitch she was

→ YourUserName just ‘cause i wouldn’t blow you

→ pierregasly i need you to delete this

User 1 this man is so fine

User 2 i’d like to ride

→ YourUserName you’d have more fun with the car

→ User 2 omg hi queen

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liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and others

YourUserName last race of the season today. just wanted to say a big ‘well done’ to my baby bro. so proud of all you achieved this season and i know you’ll go on to kill it next year! 🍾 #AbuDhabiGP

3,323 comments

YourUserName yes, i know one pic has daniel. no, it’s not an announcement of our friendship. i just like how scared pear looks

User 8 i have never been more attracted to a frenchman before

danielricciardo and who is that handsome man

→ YourUserName there is not a single handsome man in this post; charles was sulking out of the frame

→ pierregasly 1) i am very handsome, 2) stay away from charles, he’s too nice for you

→ danielricciardo and too pretty

→ charles_leclerc stop it or i will fall in love with all of you

→ YourUserName @ pierregasly i’ll stop if you promise to get rid of daniel so i don’t have to see him again

→ danielricciardo and deny you of my bakery 🍑

→ User 9 it's cake, honey, but you tried

User 10 anyone catch the camera panning to y/n when daniel’s car spun out in qualifying

→ User 11 talk about delulu

→ User 12 because he almost crashed into her brother so obvi they would show her

pierregasly just posted

liked by francisca.cgomes, yukitsunoda0511 and others

pierregasly a huge thank you to my support system. je t'aime grande soeur 🌸 (she forced me to post this, please send help)

5,222 comments

YourUserName you’re such a liar! you were legit crying to me last night about how nice it is that i still come to all your races and then said you wanted the world to know

→ pierregasly don’t expose me!

→ landonorris come sit in my car instead. rub a little luck on it

→ User 12 never beating the no rizz allegations

danielricciardo @ landonorris probably best she doesn't, she’s clearly a curse, mate

→ YourUserName and how many races did you win this season?

→ danielricciardo i hope pierre pushes you off the plane tomorrow

→ YourUserName i hope you get run over in the pits

alphatauri we love having you in the garage

User 1 agreed. her hair looked so pretty today and he ruined it

User 2 only for him to then completely forget what he was saying when he realised she was wearing a white shirt? yes! it’s been playing in my head

→ User 3 can’t say i blame him. i too was no better than a man 👀

User 4 but the way he covered her body with his the second he realised to stop the camera focusing on her see-through top

→ User 5 and then gave her one of his shirts because she was walking around in a mclaren top until pierre yanked her into the alphatauri garage

→ User 6 guys, this is bare minimum. him being hot doesn’t make this extra chivalrous

User 7 another angle of that video showed it was an accident. he can be seen saying sorry a billion times and after that, they put a border around the fountain

YourUserName posted a new story

danielricciardo reposted your story

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YourUserName just posted

liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and others

YourUserName happy 4 year anniversary to my professional car crasher tagged: danielricciardo

7,114 comments

User 1 i knew it! they all called me crazy

danielricciardo delete this. you said you would be a nice. i’m a champion! how many trophies do you have, huh

→ YourUserName depends on how many i steal from the trophy case in our living room (plus, those are replicas)

→ User 2 our?!?!

charles_leclerc but i thought you loved me?

→ YourUserName i do, citrouille. but, daniel and pierre are keeping us apart.

User 3 4 years? this means they were together when he was still at red bull! what did you think about him leaving?

→ YourUserName i'm not allowed to talk about that

landonorris congratulations, mum and dad

→ alex_albon congratulations, mum and dad

→ georgerussell63 congratulations, mum and dad

→ YourUserName i didn’t sign up for this responsibility

→ danielricciardo they’re a package deal, babe. they come with me

maxverstappen1 oh, thank god. It was so hard keeping this to myself in interviews

danielricciardo just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, kellypiquet and others

danielricciardo contrary to popular belief, pierre is not my favourite gasly

6,998 comments

YourUserName aww, mon coeur, you actually used nice photos

→ danielricciardo don’t speak french to me, you know it turns me on

→ maxverstappen1 i miss when you publicly hated each other

pierregasly you take that back!

pierregasly that’s it. you’re off the Christmas card list

francisca.cgomes wonderful, daniel, now he’s sulking

→ YourUserName you get used to it. they may seem cool but all f1 drivers are essentially big crybabies

→ danielricciardo hey!

→ charles_leclerc hey!

→ pierregasly hey!

→ alex_albon hey!

→ landonorris hey!

→ carlossainz55 hey!

→ georgerussell63 true

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Please request if you have any ideas you'd like to see, and I'll do my best to bring them to life <3

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silverfairywings · 1 month ago

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— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT II

eris vanserra x reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: this one’s really long sorry!! not proofread and I’ve decided it’s going to be incredibly slow burn… send ur thoughts, and if you want to be in the tag list please send an ask instead as I’m more like to see it :)

You make the mistake of breathing in deeply through your nose as you walk through the meadow of the Spring Court, the crisp air and smell of wildflowers tickling its way into your nostril and forcing a sneeze out of you.

The long stems of grass, wet with morning dew and brushing against your calves are like little needles poking your skin. The itching sensation in your nose caused by the sheer amount of flowers makes your eyes water and all you can think about is the relentless urge to sneeze over and over again.

“I don’t think there’s a single living thing within 50 miles that hasn’t scurried away,” Rhysand says, as if he’s commenting on the weather. You open your mouth to respond, but before you can even form the words on your lips, the thought vanishes as the tickle flares up in your nose again and another sneeze explodes from you. “I think that was sneeze number nineteen and we’ve only been here fifteen minutes.”

“I can’t help it. How does anyone live amongst all of this greenery without wanting to scratch their faces off?” you ask, sniffling pathetically. “And how long before the others arrive? Surely counting my sneezes is below the duties of a High Lord.”

“Most Fae don’t suffer with your affliction. It’s probably something to do with how you were Made,” Azriel adds, not unkindly. He stands slightly further away from you, Rhys and Nesta and if it weren’t for his shadows, you’d have thought he was too preoccupied with keeping watch to listen in. “And it’s sneeze number eighteen actually.”

Nesta narrows her eyes, peering behind Azriel and then sighing in relief. “Thank the Mother,” she mumbles. “Took them long enough. If I had to hear another word about your damned nose…”

You sniff loudly to make a point. You’re about to reply until you spot the two figures in the distance, walking towards the three of you at a deliberately unhurried pace. You first recognise Helion, the morning rays of sun setting his skin aglow as though his powers commanded them to; you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually doing as much to make a fashionable entrance. The charming grin he shoots your ways is contagious and you can’t help returning it until your focus shifts to the person beside him and you try not to let your face drop.

Even half-shielded from view, the sight of Eris sets your teeth on edge. His tall, lean frame sharply contrasts with the brightness of the meadow, his deep mahogany tunic making him stand out further amongst the flowers. The way he walks with such easy arrogance and moves with an infuriatingly casual stride as though he just belongs there makes your skin prickle with irritation.

Eris’ sharp amber eyes sweep across the group until they land on you for a short moment, a flicker of recognition and something else you don’t care to analyse in his gaze before he turns back to Rhys. The brief looks feels like a challenge and you feel your irritation growing, so you wrench your gaze away from him and focus on Helion instead.

“My, what a pleasant little group we’ve compiled,” the High Lord of Day says, tone pleasant and amused as always. He tilts his head, considering. “Morrigan wasn’t available?”

“She’s with Feyre, Elain and Tarquin,” Rhys responds with a roll of his eyes, but his faint smile tells you he’s pleased to see Helion, rather than annoyed. Nesta looks as though she wants nothing more than to go home, and Azriel looks impassive as always. “They’re covering the border on the East side.”

“Lovely group all the same,” Helion hums, winking at you, teasingly. You shake your head at him, smiling despite yourself. “Shall we?”

Gesturing ahead of you all, Helion starts walking and the rest of you follow, but not before Eris catches your gaze again and raises an eyebrow in question. Your cheeks warm and the smile you had previously given Helion starts to slip, but Eris looks away and walks ahead before you can fully react. The few seconds at a time that you engage in eye contact with the male have you assessing how his expression is sharper than it previously was.

His hair is shorter, you realise. The fiery red strands are no longer draping down his back, instead the ends are no longer than his shoulders, the tips just brushing against his collarbones. The previously long front pieces have been cropped short, his hair no longer looking long enough to tie back in a braid without falling back.

It’s almost as though there’s now nothing to soften the intensity of his gaze every time it passes over you and if that weren’t enough to unsettle you, it’s the realisation that you’re paying more attention to Eris’ hair than to the main reason you’re here in the first place.

Diplomatic relationships had greatly improved between Tamlin and the rest of the High Lords after many years of healing after the war. The Spring Court, while nearly restored to its former glory, had become the target of some recent attacks near the borders. Thus, Tamlin had requested the assistance of the other courts, with the exception of no outside help, ever the paranoid High Lord. Unfortunately, that excludes the security of the soldiers you’ve grown accustomed to, which has you looking over your shoulder every few minutes.

You knew Eris had agreed to help, but you weren’t aware he’d be in such close quarters. Well, as close as he could be with you walking right next to Nesta at the back of the group as she twisted and turned the hem of her dress keep it from getting caught on all the foliage.

“Remind me why we agreed to this,” she mutters under her breath, not quietly enough.

Rhysand throws a look over his shoulder while walking. “Because Tamlin requested our help,” he answers, his tone carefully neutral. “And we have a responsibility to agree to reasonable requests from other High Lords. If not to keep the peace between the Courts, then to ensure whatever’s happening doesn’t become a larger problem for the rest of us.”

“You know Tamlin’s not here, right?” Eris drawls, sardonically. “Meaning we don’t have to act like we actually like him.”

“What, the same way we act like we like you?” you mumble, unable to stop the words from escaping. You wince when Nesta snorts loudly, hiding her laughter in her hand. Even Azriel’s lips quirk up.

Eris finally looks over at you properly this time with a faint smirk, tilting his head. “You wound me, darling,” he says, his voice a silky challenge that you know from experience is daring you to push him further. “But I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

You force yourself to meet his eyes, physically unable to back down now that he’s spoken. It’s as though he flips a switch of irritation in you every time he talks, yet you never learn your lesson. It’s something to do with the amusement in his gaze, as if he enjoys your quick retorts that really gets under your skin.

“And you’re irritating as always,” you say, sighing as though you’re delivering unfortunate news. You look away, dismissively as you walk a little faster in an attempt to catch up to Nesta, from whom you’ve fallen behind. “But none of us would expect anything less from you.”

Eris continues walking at a leisurely pace, still closer to you than you are to Nesta and the others. Damn these stupid long-stemmed flowers.

A couple of them are particularly overgrown, the pollen seeming to waft right up into your nose and setting you off sneezing again. One particularly violent sneeze sends you stumbling and the world spins for a split second. Before you can hit the ground, a firm hand grips your elbow and pulls you upright, causing your back to bump against a solid chest.

You steady yourself and spin around to come face to face with Eris. His hand lingers on your arm, amber eyes glinting with amusement when you glance down, frowning before you yank it out of his grip. “I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly,” he replies drily, but doesn’t comment any further, taking a step back while keeping his eyes on you. His unwavering gaze makes you freeze, and it’s like he can sense your confusion as his lips quirk up. Bizarrely, he doesn't seem to be making fun of you, instead he just looks as though you’re both engaged in your usual banter and he’s enjoying it.

“Keep up, children,” Helion’s voice from ahead snaps you out of it and you step away, smoothing down your clothes and rushing forward to catch up with the others.

Before you looked away though, you caught Eris’ expression being schooled back into his usual aloof demeanour. It unsettles you, but you push the thought away as Nesta tilts her head at you in questioning. You shake your head slightly and smile reassuringly in answer, but her eyes narrow a little in suspicion.

The further you venture into the forest, the more your head clears, away from the pollen in the meadow, indicating you’re close to the border. The large trees offer you a welcome shade and you take a deep breath.

You’re grateful when you’re unable to sense any oncoming sniffling, but something else starts to tug at the edges of your awareness. It starts off as subtle and you brush it off, but the closer you get to the edges of the forest and nearer to the border, the stronger it becomes.

Rhys calls for a halt when you’ve reached your destination and your feet start to walk you to the walls of magic on their own accord. No one stops you, but they watch warily as you close your eyes, trying to understand what you’re sensing.

It’s took a while to come to terms with the abilities thrust upon you by the Cauldron, the ability to detect and absorb other people’s magic. You felt confident enough to distinguish what you felt from the magic of the people around you and it makes you exhale shakily.

“What is it?” Rhys murmurs, voice sharp but quiet as not to disrupt your concentration. You don’t need to sense anything else though, and so you turn around and shake your head.

“Fae magic,” you answer, slightly underwhelmed. “Just regular, old Fae magic. I don’t think there’s anything sinister here.”

The group all seem to visibly relax slightly, although Azriel’s shadows are still flitting around him like a flock of birds, some venturing out to explore and then returning to whisper at his ears. “Whoever was here has gone now. It’s just us.”

“What does it feel like?” Nesta asks, directing the question to you. She’s referring to the magic, knowing you can usually detect a type of feeling with each strain. “How dangerous?”

“It’s not that it’s dangerous,” you explain, feeling the weight of everyone’s expectant gazes. “It’s more angry than anything. And there’s so many of them, all with slightly different undertones.”

“Ah, how wonderful,” Helion remarks, cheery demeanour never slipping. “A large group of angry Fae with the nerve to attack the borders of a known crazed High Lord. Not dangerous in the slightest.”

You send him a withering stare, with no real heat in it. Rhysand ignores him, glancing back at the rest of you. “We should split up for a while. If something feels off, send out a message and we can regroup. Stay alert.”

You all nod, about to wander off until Helion catches everyone’s attention when he starts to literally glow.

The forest is darker where you all stand and it looks even more concealed further ahead so you aren’t surprised he’s doing as such, but the bright light is nearly blinding.

Eris scowls, the flames swirling around his own hands giving just enough illumination without drawing attention. “Why not just send out a beacon to alert everyone to our exact location?”

Helion frowns, glancing at Rhys who, surprisingly, just shrugs. The High Lord of Day sighs dramatically. “Fine,” he cedes, dimming his light slightly. “Happy, little Lord?”

“Ecstatic,” he deadpans, walking off without another word. The rest of you follow suit, going in opposite directions to inspect the border for signs of anything.

You’ve only been walking around for a few minutes alone, trying to feel unique differences in the magic that lingers around you, still fresh. It’s harder than you thought it would be and you’re so frustrated that you let your guard down.

You don’t hear the snap of the twig, but from the corner of your eye, you catch movement and reach for the dagger by your hip instinctively, spinning round toward the source. You swing the dagger out in front of you in a defensive position, just to see that it’s Eris emerging from behind a tree, his amber eyes glinting with amusement.

“Did I startle you?” he drawls, his tone dropping with feigned innocence.

Scowling, you sheathe your blade. “Do you enjoy sneaking around like that? Or do you just have an unhealthy desire to annoy me?”

Eris raises his eyebrows and his smirk deepens like you’ve just said something extremely entertaining. “Well, it’s a talent really, but what was that about desire? Because, that-”

“Stop,” you sigh, wanting nothing less than to hear out the rest of that sentence. “Just… go away and let me focus on this magic.”

You turn away from him and shut your eyes in concentration, but it doesn’t work as you dont hear him move. Knowing Eris is standing there watching you is doing nothing to help, and you’re about to say so when he speaks first.

“How do you know it’s not just mine or Helion’s magic you’re sensing?” he asks, seemingly serious. You frown at him, thinking he’s joking.

“Well, I have met the two of you before,” you reply, injecting your voice with as much sarcasm as possible. “I know what your magic feels like.”

“And?” Eris tilts his head in question. “What does it feel like?”

“Helion’s magic feels bright, awake and fresh and yours feels…” Inviting, warm, strong. You don’t say anything, because you can’t really explain what you sense in his magic as you still don’t fully understand it. Why you’re drawn to it the same way you would be drawn to jumping into a pile of autumn leaves outside your home as a child. You swallow, looking away. “Different.”

It’s not unusual for you to gravitate to certain magical auras, but it’s only ever been towards close friends, family, some select strangers with whom you had a kind word, for example.

Thankfully, Eris doesn’t push. Annoyingly, however, he changes the subject. “Have you considered my mother’s invite to come and visit Autumn?”

“Shush!” you hiss at him, shooting a glance over your shoulder to see if any of the Inner Circle are nearby. The last thing you need is for them to overhear your conversation. It would lead to an unbearable series of questions, interrogations and endless teasing.

Eris’ chuckle is soft, taunting. “Why so nervous, darling? Afraid your friends will finally put two and two together and realise how you truly feel about their beloved court?”

The mental image of Rhys being disappointed in you makes you feel physically sick. He took you in, gave you a place to be free and opened up his home to you. All for you to go and feel like you don’t even belong? Your chest tightens and you decide you could never do that to him. You glare at Eris and attempt to keep your voice steady. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” he drops his voice down to a whisper. “Would it really be so bad if your High Lord knew the truth?”

You swallow the rising panic in your body, the fear that he’s going to use your insecurities that only he can sense to his advantage. You close the distance between the two of you and your voice is low and sharp as you speak. “What the hell do you want from me, Eris?”

Eris’ expression falters slightly, like you’ve taken him by surprise for a split second. “What?”

“What could you possibly want from me?” you let out a derisive laugh, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Do you enjoy holding things over me? Because I can’t think of anything I could give you that you don’t already have. So, if you are blackmailing me for something, then I’d prefer if you just came out with it already.”

The words spill out of you with an intensity that you’ve bottled up since you last argued with Eris, but your anger dims slightly when you realise he’s no longer looking amused. Instead, he stares at you with a blank expression and it’s somehow worse than if he were insulting you.

You realise just how close you had gotten to him only when he steps back slowly, as though wanting to draw your attention to the lack of space, snapping you out of whatever furious trance you were in.

A moment passes before he allows himself to give you a faint smirk, but his jaw is clenched and his eyes flicker with something you can’t figure out. “We should get back to your precious High Lord.”

You open your mouth to say… something. You aren’t even sure what there’s left to say, especially since the whole interaction has left you more unsettled than ever. “I-”

“Keep your guard up, Archeron,” he just says, cutting you off before turning around to walk away without sparing you another glance.

tag list: @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @abysshaven @nayaniasworld @rcarbo1 @paleidiot @tenshis-cake @bunnyredgirl

#eris vanserra x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra fanfiction #eris vanserra imagines #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x oc #eris fanfic #eris acotar #Eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n

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leonspretty · 3 months ago

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“slut!”

spencer had never told the team he had a girlfriend, never mind what her job was

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x reader

tags: fem! reader, no y/n, reader is a stripper (not explicit), based on a tiny scene but idk what ep or season, fluff!

notes: i was watching spencer clips and i saw the scene of him from i think season 6 where he and Emily were in a strip club asking questions. Then I was listening to slut! by taylor and thought i could make this work somehow. this isnt me calling strippers sluts btw!!! i just know some guys who have called them sluts and i love the chorus of this song and figured i could make it into something.

wc: 1,468

“And if they call me a slut, You know it might be worth it for once” — Taylor Swift's "Slut!" (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

He honestly hadn't meant for his team to find out about you through him spilling about your job. He also hadn't meant to keep you as a secret but with the continuous cases recently, he hadn't had much chance to tell them about you.

Spencer asking the witness if her boyfriend had a problem with her job wasn't judgemental, it was a question they needed to ask, and he knew how some men reacted to finding out their girlfriends were strippers, you had told him enough stories from your own experiences to support this.

"It's how we met, so no. Why? Do you have a problem with it?"

"No I don't, actually my girlfriend is in the same line of work and also I'm from Vegas so-" He stopped his ramble early at Emily's pointed look. He had assumed it was because he was starting to ramble, but her look of, 'we need to talk' told him it was because of this new fact about him that she didn't know. Luckily, she dropped it for now and the rest of the talk went smoothly. The subject of a girlfriend wasn't brought up until they were back at the precinct.

"Got anything for us?" Morgan asked as Spencer and Emily walked in.

"Yeah, did you know Reid has a girlfriend?" Emily questioned, not giving Spencer a chance to say anything about the case. Morgan's face shot up in surprise as did JJ's, but Emily continued, "And get this, she's a stripper!"

Ignoring the looks he was getting, Spencer turned to Emily, his tone accusatory. "You say that like it's a bad thing." Immediately, Emily corrected herself.

"No, of course it's not, it's just-"

"We didn't expect someone like that to be your type." JJ said.

Before Spencer had a chance to say that they had never even met her so how could they know, Hotch and Rossi walked in, forcing a subject change.

It wasn't until they were on the jet home and Spencer was reading a book waiting for your reply to him asking to come over for the night that the topic of his mystery girlfriend was brought up again.

As Emily took a seat across from him she asked what they had all been wanting to know. "So how come we've never met your girlfriend? Or even heard of her?"

"I did want to tell you all but it was still relatively new and then we had a long string of cases and I wanted her to meet you when I told you so I just didn't mention it." As he was talking, his phone pinged with a text to which he immediately picked up to read.

"So now that we know, do we get to meet her?"

"I will ask her. You guys were thinking of going out tonight right? I'm going straight to her apartment so I can see if she's off tonight to join us."

That seemed to be enough for Emily as she nodded and gave Spencer a smile, walking back to her seat from before.

You could tell Spencer was hiding something. When he arrived at your apartment he was quiet and it seemed like he wanted to talk but he hid it by practically devouring you and keeping you moaning for over an hour.

Deciding you wanted to find out what it was right now, you took action: grabbing his book from his hands and placing it page down on the table behind you, straddling him on the couch. His hands instinctively went to your waist as he gave you a kiss, despite his questioning look.

"Hi." He said, to which you replied the same. "As much as I do love you on me, we decided to rest for a while. Realised you actually can't resist me after all?" He joked.

It was true. To resist Spencer was torture but your pride refused to let you go back on your statement from earlier so quickly. In your break earlier Spencer had called you insatiable when he got up to get you some water. To this you denied and said that you could easily resist him, you just never wanted to and so Spencer challenged you.

"No... but I can tell you want to say something and I'm just curious to find out what it is."

Spencer had been holding off on asking you to go out with him tonight. He couldn't understand why he was so nervous but he took a breath and asked you anyway.

"It kind of slipped during the last case that I have a girlfriend and also what your job was and now my team wants you to come out with us tonight." Spencer spoke quickly in hopes to not stumble over himself.

Your head filled with questions like why was he scared to tell you this? what prompted him to tell them? was he meaning to keep you a secret? Instead you replied with one single "Yes," throwing Spencer completely off guard. He was expecting at least a question about why he had only just told them when you had been together for nearly 3 months now.

"Oh, that's great, um, we're going to a bar not too far from here actually and we can leave in about 2 hours?"

You nodded and internally decided against bombarding him with questions, instead going in for a kiss, all pride and challenge from earlier forgotten.

The nerves only hit you when you were walking to the bar hand in hand with Spencer. Your face must have displayed these nerves, prompting Spencer to pull you closer and ask if you were okay.

"Yeah, I am, I'm excited to meet your team, but you told them about my job right? They're not all weird about it?" Usually, you didn't care about what people think about you, but you really liked Spencer, and the way he spoke about his team proved that he cared deeply for them and you just wanted them to like you too. From the way Spencer had spoken about them, they didn't seem like the type to judge people for doing what they needed to for money, as long as it was legal of course, but still, you'd had your fair share of encounters with boyfriend's friends that have lead to you being dumped all because they've seen you on stage.

"They would never. They're nice people, truly. And I can tell you right now, Emily will be all over you for how you look tonight."

His words lifted your nerves and by the time you were walking through the bar doors, you were eager to meet them. It took not a minute for Spencer's hand to be at the small of your back leading you to a booth full of people. You took a deep breath saying to yourself that even if they called you a slut, it might be worth it for once, as long as you were seen on Spencer's arm.

Getting to the booth you noticed four people sat, watching as you guys approached. You could feel their eyes on you but to your surprise, they didn't feel judgemental or disgusted - they were kind and eager.

Before Spencer had a chance to introduce you to anyone, a woman was in front of you offering her hand. "Hi, I'm Emily, you are so hot!" Her enthusiasm made you giggle as you shook her hand and replied with your name and "So are you!"

As you got acquainted with the team, Spencer left to the bar to buy you and him a drink, smiling to himself as he saw your own smile from across the bar.

The rest of the night ran smoothly with you quickly realising just how true Spencer's words were. None of his team even cared about what kind of job you had, all they cared about was if you were a good match for their youngest team member.

As you parted ways from Penelope's hold, promising to go out with her and the other girls alone again, Spencer watched with a smile.

"You really love her, huh?" Derek's voice startled Spencer slightly, but he nodded anyway, giving you his biggest grin as you came closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest.

"Yeah, I really do." Spencer replied, putting his arm around your waist and saying goodbye as he began to lead you back to your apartment. You didn't even need to have heard what Derek had said to him because you could see it in Spencer's eyes. Because in a world of boys who judged you and called you a slut for doing what you're good at, Spencer was a gentleman who would never let those boys anywhere near you.

this one took me a little longer to finish up than i had intended cause work was draining the past few days but i finally got it done. i have more ways to lengthen it but then id feel like it drags on and i just wanted to get it out so i apologise for the semi-rushed ending. i actually dont mind this one so i hope you enjoyed and please send requests, the people i can write for are in my masterlist!

dividers by @cafekitsune

thank you for reading!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #fluff #taylor swift #slut! taylor’s version #1989 taylor's version #song fic #Spotify

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zhongrin · 2 years ago

Text

cium aku dong?

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, wanderer, cyno, al haitham, tighnari, xiao, ayato, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, kaveh, thoma, dottore, pantalone

◇ tags ◇ fluff, domestic, established relationship, kisses. LOTS of kisses (duh), slight angst (kaeya i'm so sorry), slight suggestiveness on some, slight possessiveness on some

◇ a/n ◇ [en] “kiss me please?” aka the ways they ask for a kiss <3 uh? what... what do you mean i clearly have favorites? i-i don't..... *nervous sweating* ANYWAY. merry xmas yall!! we all deserve fluff this holiday season so enjoy <3

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

“can i have my special tea?”

“darling, may i?”

zhongli is a natural at pulling you in for a kiss; most of the time he doesn’t expect you to kiss back, but he would be over the moon if you do.

you’re passing each other in the hallway of your house? he just leans towards you to place a fleeting kiss on your shoulder. you’re doing something and he passes behind you? he leans over to place a kiss on the top of your head and goes off his way. you sit beside him and plop your head on his shoulder? he smiles and scratches your scalp and places a sweet kiss on your forehead.

unfortunately (for you), on some occasions when he’s feeling a little playful, he might become a little tease; kissing you everywhere but your lips until you protest. to which he’ll chuckle fondly before finally giving in, pressing a soft fleeting kiss that promises you more when the curtains close for the day.

“kiss meeeeeeeee!!!!”

“[name]…. who was that person....?”

childe is a master of surprise kisses! he makes use of his skill to erase his presence to sneak up on you when you’re relaxing, before suddenly tackling you into a hug and kissing you all over your face.

when he’s in the mood for kisses, he becomes a ravenous kissing monster who can only be satiated after at least fifty proper kisses. or perhaps a few rounds of long, drawn-out make-out sessions.

just don’t deny him of his kisses because then he’ll brood and it’ll be his poor subordinates who get the burnt of his frustration. and if you get gifts on your doorstep with a recruit insignia badge, you probably should storm your boyfriend’s office before he actually kills someone.

“what? what’s that look for? heh, if you wanted a kiss you could’ve just asked. i~diot.” *cue the heart-piercing, soul-ascending blep*

“hey. come here.”

wanderer is either endlessly taunting you for the whole day, or being very blunt (while blushing furiously) as he motions you to come over. there’s no in-between.

you either kiss him, which will result in a smug smirk and perhaps a haughty ‘hmph, knew you can’t get enough of me’. or you just don’t… which means you’ve indirectly signed an agreement for him to be a total brat™️ for the day until he’s satisfied.

ohhh how unfortunate, your favorite scarf is blown away by the wind. ooooh, seems like it’s raining and there’s no shelter, too bad you don’t have a hat that can function as an umbrella. ooooo, what’s that? you want a hug?

ha.

in. your. dreams.

and yet when you kiss him he melts into you within 0.001 seconds.

“[name], did you know? sloths never kiss on the first date…… they take it slow.”

“can i… hold you? just for a bit?”

when the kiss puns start to drop left right and center, you know it’s cyno’s way to ask for a kiss.

... the man uses his jokes to get people to be less way of them instead of saying it out loud, what did you expect?

he might not realize it, but he stares at you especially hard on these occasions. if it were others, they would have feared for your life, but you know this is cyno’s version of the infamous wet puppy eyes. personally, you think it’s very adorable because it’s so very him, so you can’t help but pretend you don't understand just to tease him more.

the population thinks you must be some kind of a beast tamer in your past life, seeing as how the general mahamatra always faithfully follows behind you and always back down as soon as your touch descends upon him.

“you’re here. come sit. now kiss me.”

“i need to kiss you so you can testify to kaveh that i am, in fact, not an amateur when it comes to kissing. it would also be good if you can rate your satisfaction on a scale of one to ten- [name], where are you going?”

at the early stages of your relationship, al haitham isn't as insufferable; he takes what he gets, and he’s taking the time to get used to the idea of how he practically has the right to kiss you now.

but when that realization fully, truly sinks in?

oh boy.

he’ll be blunt, straight to the point, and unashamed. he might be blushing the first few times when he asked for your permission for a kiss. but seeing how much you got into it, hearing the breathless way you whisper his name, and witnessing the dopey smile after he’s done with you…

aha. eureka. it appears his expertise extends to kissing too. but of course, he is, as the youngsters these days say, ‘built different’, after all.

so why would he shy away from the activity?

now come kiss him.

“did you know that fennec foxes go through withdrawals when they don’t receive at least ten kisses per day? it’s true, i have conducted extensive research on it. with me as the research subject, of course, so i know the result is 99.99% reliable.”

“there, i gave you headpats. now will you give me kisses?”

always so dramatic and sassy. tighnari loves seeing the embarrassed look that crosses your face and the adorable giggles that escapes you whenever he tries to initiate the activity.

the fox hybrid likes to pat your head and lean forward so you can press a thank you kiss to his face. he doesn’t even mind where your kiss will land.

nose? kinda ticklish, but that’s very cute of you. cheek? adorable, why thank you. lips? hmmm… do that again.

“……….. what? i-i wasn’t staring!”

“[name], just a moment…. stay still.”

please just save xiao the embarrassment and kiss him regularly.

although your boyfriend might not look like he enjoys affection, he actually does. he’s just… not used to it and has no idea how to react, much less initiate physical affection. it’s something that he needs a lot of time to get used to, especially with his condition and background.

your protector yaksha is always so gentle when he asks for your loving touches - and most of the time he doesn’t even dare to ask - but the signs are there. you’ll really have to squint your eyes and tilt your head and maybe do a handstand before you realize ‘oh he wants a kiss’.

just. cuddle and kiss him darn it.

“my, what a fine morning, don’t you agree, sweetheart? it would be even more perfect if i had a morning kiss from my lovely partner, don’t you think?”

“there you are. lock the door for me, darling. now, why don't you make yourself comfortable?”

teasing words here and there, his hand touching your arm more than usual, him stopping when you pass each other in the hallway to make some insignificant small talk even though he’s clearly hurrying to a meeting…

yeah, your overworked man is in dire need of some loving.

if you give in and pull ayato for a quick kiss, he will skip over to his next appointment with a permanent smile. once again, you’ve saved the day of everyone in kamisato estate. great work, you! pat yourself on the back because you deserved it!

but continue to ignore him and you might find yourself being called to his office just to sit on his lap for hours (which, trust me, it gets boring after a while) without kisses or any sort of affection whatsoever... so pick your actions carefully.

“i know i should be working. but i wanted to… take a break.”

“love, your lips… n-no. it's just that. um. they look dry. here, use my chapstick.”

diluc? taking a break from work??

that diluc???

either he is very sick, or he is very much starved for your love. kindly think back on your day and check when was the last time you gave him a proper kiss, please.

what's that? you gave him a forehead kiss this morning to wake him up? oh. i’m sorry to say this but that’s just not enough. how dare you starve this man for four hours with no kisses. no wonder he’s unable to focus on his documents. please fulfill his lovesick daydream by barging into his office and distracting him from work with your wonderful, soft lips….

... please?

“work? mmm…. unfortunately my battery is near-empty… o kind, beautiful soul, would you help this poor man back to his feet?”

“hello my love, i came by because your lips look lonely.”

kaeya is very obviously a teasing flirt when he’s needy or bored. mostly he adores the embarrassed look on your face; he thinks it's very adorable and endearing. it's a sight he wishes to treasure and forever imprint in his mind, to peruse when doubt and darker thoughts attack him at night.

but let me tell you a secret.

yank his stupid coat and pull him into a kiss before he can use that sultry voice to tease you. kabedon him when you have the chance to, while you’re at it. watch the cavalry captain become putty in your hands. you’re welcome <3

“my dove, would you be so kind to quench this wandering man’s thirst for your sweet kisses?”

“it’s rather windy today… there you go, all set. ah, it's okay, i'm not cold. oh, i forgot. just one more thing- *kiss*…. hehe, i can see that you’re warming up already.”

longing looks and poetic words. kazuha kisses you like it’s a stray wind brushing gently on your lips, light and dreamy and leaving you wanting for more. his ruby eyes will droop with affection as you whine and pull him back for more contact. well, who is he to reject your generous invitation?

soon enough one peck becomes two, two becomes three, and then it turns into a soft makeout session and- oh is that beidou yelling at you both to get a room? haha, it seems like it’s time to change locations…

“[name] look, i finished the blueprint for our dream house! huh? oh, yeah this is the… what, fifth blueprint? well, i can’t help it! we should have at least seven houses in all seven nations- eh? t-the mora? uhhhhh…”

“i need… i need inspiration… my muse… i need my muse…”

you know it’s bad bad when kaveh trudges onto your side like a zombie that’s been out running after people’s brains for far too long.

he slumps onto you completely (good luck supporting a claymore user) and basks in your presence, arms wound tight on your middle section. it seems like you’ve deprived him of kisses for far too long. he’ll recover faster if you hug him back and run your fingers through his silky locks. when he pulls back slightly to pout at you, and you place a sweet kiss on his lips, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch.

the legendary architect's eyes widen and his downturned lips flip upside down. he kisses you back with vigor and runs back to his drawing room shouting about some new calculations and other kind of materials he could use. what a dork.

“[name]….” *insert the most adorable, heart-wrenching, chest-squeezing, wet puppy eyes here*

“i’ll be going now. have a good day, okay? i love you!”

like a faithful shiba inu, thoma beams and stares at you expectantly near the front door of your shared residence, waiting for that kiss you never fail to give him every single time he’s about to head out to work in the mornings.

will you ignore him and risk getting ayaka to visit you because ‘thoma seems very sad and distracted today, did you have a fight? why don’t you talk it out, i know you both treasure each other', or will you be an angel and make him start his day with the loveliest gift you can bestow your loyal lover?

“based on the monitoring data of your hormones over the past few hours, it seems that you’re in need of kisses. what? me, lying? making up facts? listen to me. who’s the doctor in this relationship?”

“it appears another segment of mine has been granted the privilege of a kiss, so i demand equal treatment.”

sure, doc. hormones screaming for a kiss. will experience lethargy for the rest of the day if not fulfilled. immediate treatment is preferred as he does not want to be stuck with a grumpy, needy lover for the rest of the day, blah blah blah-

look. i'll translate for you.

he wants a kiss. dottore wants a kiss. just give the mad doctor a kiss.

huh? which segment do you give a kiss to?

….. it seems like all of them want a kiss. you know, just to be fair.

good luck.

“good day, darling. i see that you’re wearing the necklace i bought you yesterday. you look ravishing indeed.”

“come here, love. i won’t ask twice.”

with every compliment directed your way and with every piece of new jewels added to your collections, pantalone expects you to give back some sort of affection. naturally. everything is a give-and-take, no? he provides you with all the luxuries and convenience a normal civilian can only dream of, and you provide him with what he asks for.

he’s not even asking for much - just don’t look at other men, focus on him and his needs, and pull him into a kiss every fifteen minutes. it's not hard of a task at all. surely you can fulfill it? otherwise, perhaps some disciplinary sessions are in order...

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keigo-chan · 4 months ago

Text

I Don’t Know Where To Put My Hands

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Keigo comes home, just for a bit, in the middle of spying on the League of Villains. He needs you, he needs this. And you love him. What else is there to say?

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings/Tags: Pro Hero!Reader, No Gendered Pronouns for Reader, Reader Has a Vagina, Extremely Dubious Consent, Unhealthy but Loving Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Emotional Masochism, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injury from Sex, Fluff but Evil

FULL TAGS/NOTES ON AO3

Communication from Keigo had all but disappeared after the battle in Kamino. He didn’t even text anymore. He certainly didn’t call. He didn’t even send mail, or notes, or anything. Civilians spotted him, even around the very city they lived in, as the tags you had alerts on for notified you, but he didn’t make any effort to contact you.

You tried to be calm about this. He was still alive. That’s what mattered. If he wasn’t trying to talk to you, it was because he couldn’t.

But that was a scary thought, too.

You thought about asking the Commission for a short leave. It was the Holiday season, so many other heroes were beginning to stagger out their own leaves. But that only made you more hesitant to do so in turn. Your agency- Hawks’s agency- was always close to reaching ‘understaffed’ numbers. You wanted to be there to help fill in the gaps. Especially with the biggest gap right at the helm of the agency. What was important these days, as the voice in your mind that sounded a lot like Keigo reminded you, was how the public saw the heroes. The best thing they could do was bring hope- so you kept busy making public appearances, trying to just keep up with him.

When you finally got home at the end of that week, the end of your set of patrols, you were exhausted. You were distracted by your phone when you unlocked your door and went in. You tripped over the threshold of it, barely catching yourself with your wings. You looked back at your stoop for what had made you fall, and saw a red book waiting for you.

Attached was a note. “From: K”.

Your heart dropped. You lunged for the book at once, picking it up and flipping through it. Just like you suspected, there were many highlighted portions.

You and Keigo had been working side-by-side for years, and though actual partners for longer, you knew a couple of the more intimate details of what the Commission dragged Keigo through. You’d known for a long time that skills associated with espionage would be necessary. The two of you had made up your own.

You flipped through the book, barely registering what it was even about, as you hurried to shut the door and locked all the locks behind you. You fluttered about quickly, drawing the curtains and blinds while opening the book with one arm. There was nothing else written not in code. You settled in on the couch and began to decipher.

You used a cipher, always based off of a word or phrase or date only you would know. The cipher that worked would correlate to the level of danger they were in or amount of secrecy they needed. You worked your way up three levels, to the day of your anniversary.

‘Being watched by LOV.’ Reading that alone had made the ever growing anxiety worse. Is that what he was doing? Something involving the League of Villains? ‘No big danger now. Keep ear to ground. Lay low. Attack in four months. Hope to come home for New Years. Miss you. Love you. Be safe. Keigo.’

You sighed out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding, shutting the book and resting your forehead against it. He’d held this book, had written in it with care. You wished he had left anything else, though the messy handwriting on his note was nice.

All of the feathers you’d had from him had faded, gone a very dark, dull red- a sign that they had died. Keigo no longer had control over them, and could no longer hear or feel through them.

If they were going to attack in four months, did that mean that he would be away until then?

You tried to clear the thought from your head. He was on a mission. Clearly one that even he took seriously. For now, you needed to take over as the cool-headed hero that everyone wanted. For now, you needed to take care of the Agency. Keigo’s image as a hero didn’t need to suffer, even if he was away.

You could do this. You would wait for the next couple of weeks, until you might be able to see him again. Keigo wouldn’t have mentioned it if he wasn’t decently sure that he’d be able to come back.

He’d be alright on his own. He’d be alright on his own. You set the kettle on to boil and made his favorite tea. It gave you an idea.

Over the next couple of weeks, you left things out for him. Boxes outside with small notes, assurances left in code. Sweaters and smooth pebbles and old trinkets they’d collected over the years, so that wherever he laid his head to rest, it would feel a little more like home.

He took them. Sometimes it was overnight, sometimes days or a week went by without them being taken. But he always did, and he always left something in return. A shiny, pink shell. One of his feathers. One of the silver rings he always wore, too big to fit anywhere but your thumb. You took to wearing it around at once, rubbing it when you were nervous or overwhelmed, thinking of him, thinking of his hands.

New Years came limping around the corner. You sent everyone in the agency home with warm smiles and their much-desired bonuses. You went back to your own home alone, shuddering under your coat. The Christmas tree had already been put away- because it had never gone up. You and Keigo always took it out together, decorated it together.

You hadn’t spent a Christmas without Keigo before since you’d met him. Even before you were dating, when the two of you found out you had no one else to spend it with, the agreement to visit each other came almost immediately. That very first time, you’d waited to put up the tree until that very day, and you hadn’t managed to finish decorating until he’d gotten there. You were ashamed- but he was just excited. He asked you, stars in his eyes, if he could help. He confessed, words rushed and still half-flying, that he’d never gotten to before. You didn’t ask and he didn’t offer. You handed him a box of mismatched ornaments gladly.

That night, you’d sat around the tree, the sight of threadbare branches and two gifts perhaps looking pitiful to anyone else, but there were lights. Keigo had gone and gotten lights mid-way through, saying he’d been struck by inspiration, and he hadn’t come back for quite a bit since most of the stores were closed, but they were beautiful. You’d turned the rest of the lights in the house off and just basked in the warm glow of them. They reminded you of Keigo’s eyes, a bit. That was the first time you’d rested your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his wing around you.

You couldn’t help but be upset that he hadn’t even mentioned Christmas, much less apologized for missing it, even if it felt a little childish. You felt homesick more often than not. All you wanted to do these days was lie in bed, lounging around in his baggy clothes, twirling dead feathers between your fingers.

You left him a gift before Christmas. When you saw that he still hadn’t picked it up the next day, all you could do was sigh. By the time New Years came around, the gift remained by your doorstep. You began leaving less and less, just to stop crossing that threshold.

You baked cookies that night. You lit candles and dimmed the lights and listened out for sparkles and fireworks all over. You’d started hating fireworks when you started dating Keigo. He’d made a joke once about having to fly through them and it made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. He was as flammable as a bundle of dry straw. The heater was on, but you still wore one of his old, tacky Christmas sweaters around. You popped open a bottle of Champagne and poured yourself a glass.

You had a bad feeling, but you pretended like you didn’t. You glanced at the clock. Keigo wouldn’t have given you false hope- no matter how optimistic he was. But eventually, the clock struck eleven, and you were two glasses of champagne and batches of cookies in, and there was no sign of him.

You groaned when you finally heard the clock mark the hour, resting your forehead on the cold of the kitchen table.

Why were you so miserable without him? You obviously could never know, but you were willing to bet money on the idea that Keigo was not nearly as shaken up about it when he was away. In fact, the more dangerous a task he was about to embark on, the happier he seemed to send you away. A familiar coil of bitterness rose up in you. After all this time, he didn’t trust you. He didn’t think you could hold your own, not next to him.

But maybe he’s right, You mused, munching miserably on your cookie. After all, he goes away and I spend all my time sick and moping and thinking about him. God, I really am useless.

Maybe you should get a cat. Keigo was never their biggest fan, and they didn’t do well around his wings, but you really wanted one for times like these. And if he was going to spend this much time away from now on, what did it matter?

You were idly scrubbing a dish when the clock went off at midnight. Screams erupted from every direction around you, the sound of illegal fireworks, the cheers of loved ones celebrating with one another.

Honestly, you thought you’d be more sad, and angry, and disappointed. But you weren’t. The hour passed and it was the next year and Keigo wasn’t there to celebrate- like he always was- even though he said he’d try to make it and it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as Christmas. There was no one to call, no one to text. You finished washing the dish and downed the last of your glass, before pouring yourself another.

You settled onto the couch. You weren’t ready for bed yet, not with the sounds outside. You scrolled through a million shows and movies before settling on one you’d seen a million times, like white noise. It was past one am, and you had finished up your millionth game of Sudoku when you heard someone at the door.

Fear rang through you, at first. You were alone, you were tipsy, and your hero brain whispered that nobody would hear your screams with the din of New Years around you. You jumped to your feet the best you could, setting aside your glass and phone at once, preparing to defend yourself when you heard keys turn the lock.

It was Keigo. Of course, of course, it was just Keigo.

All of the resentment, all of the bitterness, all of the anger you told yourself you’d take out on him softened at once when you caught sight of him. Not only because he looked more tired than you’d seen him in a long time- with uncharacteristic bags under his weary eyes, slumped shoulders, and wings noticeably smaller than usual- but just because…

Because it was Keigo. Because, miraculously, he looked like he needed you more than you needed him.

“You’re awake.” He sounded surprised. He didn’t look it. Maybe he was too tired to even look surprised. He locked the door behind him, but didn’t move from across the room.

”I was-” You words caught around the lie. ��I was waiting for you.” But he beamed, and you were glad you hadn’t told him the truth. Oh, Keigo. Always the optimist.

“I’m home now.”

“Yeah,” you walked to him, pace increasing with every step, until you were flinging yourself into his arms. Keigo, for his part, was more than ready. He caught you easily, and no more conversation was needed. When you kissed him, his face and nose and mouth were all cold, and he held you like a dying ember. The way you fell into each other reminded you of the moment you’d managed to catch him after the battle in Kamino, behind the alley, a moment you had been unable to stop yourself from replaying and replaying and replaying.

There was no thinking to be done while you were kissing, your mouths opened immediately for each other’s. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, indulging both of you in the kiss. He turned the two of you, pressing you flat against the wall. His kisses fell against your chin and neck, and then all at once-

“Keigo!” You gasped, which was the only thing saving it from being a scream as Keigo sucked at the skin on your neck hard. You squirmed, thrashed really, in his arms, trying to push him away, but it was fruitless. “What are you- Keigo, oh my God-” Your voice was just a whimper by the end as he barely even reacted to you. “W- wait, you can’t-”

The Commission had strict rules involving appearance. Some were obvious: no alterations may be made to the uniform without going through one of their designers, heroes must appear at the scene relatively kempt (unless coming from another battle), tears or rips must be mended by next appearance. But there were other, unwritten rules, pertaining to the professionalism of the costume. No hero could be caught drinking or smoking in their uniform. No hero should be seen doing non-heroic activities in their uniform. And, of course, famously, hickeys were not allowed to be showing while they were in uniform.

Everyone claimed to have a friend of a friend who had gotten in trouble for it, to the point that it was just something heroes knew to avoid while participating in… more illicit activities. But it had happened closer than that to the two of you. In fact, Keigo had once gotten in massive trouble when the Commission caught him with a hickey that you had given him. It was (mostly) an accident, and they hadn’t suspected where it actually came from, but he was put on night patrol with no breaks for the next couple of weeks.

You were extremely apologetic, but not enough to accompany him out all of those times.

Ever since then, you were both careful about it. After all, they really didn’t need the scrutiny that the Commission was trying to protect them from in a roundabout way. Not only would Hawks’s fangirls go ballistic if they thought he was actually seeing someone, but it would invite people to speculate on who. And nothing good would come of that.

This was to say, it wouldn’t be good if either of you showed up to your job with a lovebite visible on your necks, and concealer could only last for so long in a job like yours. The two of you whined and bitched about it, but for the most part, you reserved your marking for things below the collar, even if the ‘claiming’ of it all was half the fun.

Until tonight, apparently. Keigo was still sucking and biting at your neck like a man starved. “Sorry- sorry,” It sounded genuine, he sounded almost hurt him, but he didn’t stop. “Need- Need something permanent- need it to last-”

And it did hurt. You weren’t prepared for the sharp heat of it- but it was good. It was so good, Keigo’s lips wrapped around such a sensitive part of you, making you feel a mind-numbing pain derived intimately from his own mouth, his face buried into your neck, while he was holding you close together. And he was marking you. He was marking you and everyone would know you belonged to someone and entirely irrationally, for a split second, you hoped they would know it was Keigo.

He growled and pressed open-mouthed, sloppy kisses to your neck, before licking a stripe up your throat and swirling his tongue over what must have been the forming bruise. your head was going fuzzy from the abuse of your neck. You barely recognized the usual care he treated you with, even in their most morally bankrupt moments of fornication. Instead, he bit down on another part of your neck and started the process again.

You threw your head back and gave in, moaning and bucking your hips against him. This only seemed to egg him on, as his kisses grew more frantic and messy, and a heavy sort of note joined his panting, like he was moaning with every breath.

Your neck was starting to feel wet at this point, but you didn’t care. You could feel every move he made down to your pussy, and it was leaving no room for anything to go to your brain.

Several marks later, Keigo finally seemed to remember that there were possibly other ways that he could have you- though he didn’t give you any warning of this thought at all before he pulled you away from the wall and fell to his knees. This would have been alright, hot even, if you weren’t still attached to him. You yelped as they dropped, performing a clumsy combination of your arms flailing and still clinging to Keigo as he went down.

But you didn’t collide with the floor, you were simply on his lap now, nails digging into his clothes and back. He took the second of your confusion to tear off his work jacket and reveal the compression shirt underneath. You dearly loved the eyeful of his lithe muscles you got through the tight fabric. You ran your hands over his chest and shoulders appreciatively.

”You know, you could have given me a heads up,” You meant to scold him, but it came out more as a sort of pout. But Keigo didn’t laugh like he usually would have, didn’t even smile. He sort of frowned distantly as you spoke, staring only at your lips. “Keigo?” You brushed a lock of flaxen hair behind his ear. “Are you oka-”

”No,” He shook his head, his voice thick with something you couldn’t name. He took an unsteady breath and shook his head, looking somewhere just past you. “N- no, I’m-” The glint in his eyes wasn’t right. You were contemplating it when he sprang back into action. He lunged, pinning you under him on the floor, but his arms had broken the worst of your fall. Still, you cried out in surprise, Your world suddenly in an entirely different orientation. Keigo licked and nibbled at your ear as he pulled off your- his- sweater roughly, the friction of it burning for a second. He tossed it aside carelessly before returning to his position right on top of you. His hands squeezed and groped at your chest painfully- and not in a good way.

Your head spun. What was going on? This was nothing like Keigo. Even when he was rough, it was usually only because you had asked for it, or confirmed it was what you wanted at least once. Every once in a while, you even had to egg him on. But this- this felt careless and crude, bouncing between the two extremes of him being too intense and not there with you at all.

“Ow,” You hissed, but it was really more of a whisper. You were almost afraid to snap him out of the trance, even as he bruised you in places you weren’t accustomed to. “Ow-”

”Please,” He whined. His mouth was against your chest, he had begun to work his way down. He sounded… truly pitiful. “Please, I- I need- I can’t-” He sat back up and away from you, running a hand through his hair, only for half of the strands to fall back into place right after. You finally got a good look at him, closer now than across the room. He was frantic, searching. His eyes darted around your face wildly, but he didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. “Please.” He slumped down again on top of you like his strings had been cut, all at once, landing hard onto you.

“Are you on something?” You wondered aloud. “It’s- it’s fine if you are, but you should tell me, Kei-chan-”

”No, no.” He shook his head frantically. “No, I swear, I just-” He tugged at your pants. His eyes grew pleading, beseeching. “Please-”

This wasn’t how you pictured their reunion. But he was looking at you with those desperate eyes, and you could only ever be the personyou were.

Keigo was hurting. You could help him. As always, you could do your service by helping him, by being at his side.

You didn’t speak. You just nodded. Keigo breathed out what could only be a sigh of relief and tore your pants off. You were wet, your moments of hesitation unable to strip that awaym especially not when Keigo spread your legs and dipped his fingers into the place that you had wanted him for weeks. Thankfully, he didn’t finger you. You shuddered a bit to think of what his thick, rough fingers would have felt like inside you in this state. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your knee and then tapped you gently on the ass. ”Flip over.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice.you turned and assumed your position, ass in the air and face against your arms on the floor. There was a second where it was just ou, in the dark, your face warm with your breaths and the sound filling your ears. Maybe- maybe it would be easier this way, unable to see his face.

There was no preamble before Keigo slammed in.

”Oh my GOD!” You shrieked, nails digging into the hardwood floor in front of you and leaving gouge marks in their wake. “Oh my fucking God,” He took you with a speed and strength that truly belonged on a battle field. Every other stroke or so hit your cervix, entirely bottomed you out with that thick cock of his, a Russian roulette of pain that entirely cleared your mind.

”Fuck,” He cursed. He gripped your hips brutally, but you didn’t even feel it over the flood of sensation below it. He pulled you back and forth against him like you were an to for him to use, something small and thoughtless he could move as he pleased. “Fuck, yes,” He hissed through his teeth sharply. “Holy fuck, you take it so good, look at you- taking my cock so fucking good.” He babbled.

”Please,” You choked out, eyes rolling back so faryou couldn’t see anything other than stars. “P- please,” A broken gasp wracked through your chest like a sob. In fact, you rather thought you were sobbing. Your fingers and hands jumped and convulsed, just trying to hold on, to regain any sort of footing as he fucked you into the floor. you didn’t even know what you were begging for. For him to stop? For more? For him to hold you, just hold you, so you could sit in the silence and look at the Christmas tree?

Your safeword danced on the tip of your tongue. You wished you could say that you hadn’t used it to be a good girlfriend, that you’d suffered through it all silently because it was clear he needed you, that you were kind and benevolent- but the truth was that you simply couldn’t even string enough of a thought together to control your tongue enough to say it.

”Please-” He panted, pleaded, “Baby, say my name-” His voice broke around the syllables. “I- I need to- pl- please, saymyname-”

“Kei- ei- go- oh-” Each sound was broken up by the bounce of you against his cock. You couldn’t speak properly even if you wanted to. You slurred his name, your tongue too heavy in your mouth, too confusing to move properly. “Kei- go!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” He whined, bending over your body. His chest pressed against your back. He was all over you, inside you, above you, all-encompassing. Each thrust sent your body back and forth against the floor, scraping against the skin of your face and arms. Your knees ached from holding yourself up on the hard surface. Your legs trembled, weak with the strength it took to even stay up. “So tight, so fucking tight-”

”Keigo- w- wait, please-“ You gasped out, but the words were unintelligible to even your ears, too breathy and muffled and confused, too pierced through with your moans. Instead, all Keigo heard was ‘please’. The next couple of thrusts were even harder.

Your mind and body couldn’t take it any longer, you tensed, trembled so much your limbs began to hurt, and came so hard you saw white. The scream you let out was guttural, and gave its way into sobs. Your whole body gave out, but unfortunately, Keigo’s grip didn’t relent, he hardly even noticed. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease-”. You keened pitifully. “Keigo-”

His grunts and noises had become animalistic. There were no more words or pleas from him. Instead, he moaned his own release, slamming into you with absolute abandon, finishing inside you by using his body’s weight to pin you all the way to the floor. You were squeezed between the two unrelenting surfaces, as Keigo came as deep as he could possibly go, gravity assisting him in his terrible mission.

Finally, finally, he was still.

He breathed heavily above you as you shook and trembled and just tried to do the monumental task of catching your breath or moving your limbs. Your hands shook so hard it looked like you had tremors when you tried to draw them back into yourself.

Every body part that you could think of ached in one way or another. You tested different parts of yourself, operating them like a puppet who had just gained control of their own body. It was a long while before Keigo let up, long enough that you had almost forgotten it was him on top of you. You lifted your own face from the floor. It was wet. You hadn’t even realized you were crying or drooling. Your hair stuck to your face with tears and sweat. you took a deep, shuddering breath.

Keigo pulled out. You felt his soft cock slip out of you and were astounded that the now-feeble part could have done what it just had. You remained on the floor, little will to move, no capacity to consider what he might think about it.

He laid his hand on your hip. ”Hey, do you wanna-” But you jumped. You hadn’t meant to. But it was a motion so sudden it startled him. He blinked. And it came to him. The scene, the house, his love- it all finally appeared in front of him. “Oh my God-” He breathed, expression stricken and horrified. “Oh my God, baby bird, I- oh my God-” You tried to push yourself off the ground, but your arms gave out underneath you, and it looked downright painful as youfell. Keigo pulled you up at once and flipped you over, as gently, but quickly, as he could.

Keigo hoped, prayed, that it wasn’t as bad as he suddenly remembered it all was-

When you turned, something in the back of your head warned you to school your expression into a more neutral mask, but it was too slow and quiet. But every bit of the shock and confusion you felt must have been evident on your face, because when Keigo turned you around, he shattered.

He dissolved into sobs, curling and melting onto you, into you. It only took a split second before you, too, were crying, until you were both wracked with it, holding each other. Clinging tighter than ever before.

There was nothing else to do.

*****

You woke first the next morning- and you woke in pain. The way your insides ached made you feel like maybe the phrase ‘rearrange their guts’ wasn’t as fun as it was before. You realized, when you went to the bathroom, that you had been bleeding. A wave of sickness. You put on a pad and walked carefully back to bed.

The noise of the bathroom alone had woken Keigo. He locked eyes with you as soon as you came out of the restroom. Your heart sank. You immediately tore your own away. You were really hoping he wouldn’t wake for a while. He sat up as you got into bed, back towards him. Neither of you said anything for a long moment.

You gave in. You flipped over towards him, tossing an arm around his lap, your forehead against his hip. He rubbed a hand down your back, almost on instinct. You hated the way his hand jumped away once he realized what he was doing like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

You gave a gentle demand, ”C’mere.” He obliged at once, shifting down to rest next to you. You were careful not to make eye contact, even as he stared at your face, watching your expressions like- well, like a hawk. You adjusted until you were lying on his chest, arms curled around him. He was sleep-warmed. Comfy. Smelled familiar.

It was still Keigo.

Just Keigo.

Always Keigo.

Only Keigo.

”I’m bleeding.” You said softly, shutting your eyes. You didn’t know why. You didn’t want to guilt him. You didn’t really even want him to know. But you felt like he needed to. Deserved to, even. You listened to the sharp breath he took.

”Fucking shit,” He breathed, and that was it for a moment. You pretended like you couldn’t hear him crying. He pretended like he couldn’t feel you do the same.

”Will you make me some tea?” You asked quietly, when you had both gone still and silent again. Keigo jumped up at once. He was just in his boxers, the ones he had pulled on last night when you had finally gone to bed in a daze.

”Yes. Yeah. Of course.” He nodded, looking grateful for something to do. He hurried off to the kitchen at once. You laid on in warm space he had left on the bed. You tucked yourself in and sniffed the pillow he’d been lying on deeply. It smelled like him- like the man you knew and loved. In the kitchen, pots and pans moved around, water ran, the stove clicked to life.

It wasn’t long before the smell of food filled your nose instead. It smelled like grilled fish and rice. After another couple of minutes, he walked in, holding your favorite mug.

”What kind?” You asked, pointing for him to set it down on the bedside drawer.

”Your favorite.” He didn’t even let you react before he hurried out, “ButIcanmakeyouadifferentone! I just- I thought that I- I guess I could have asked-” He winced at his own words, and you sighed.

”It’s fine, Keigo.” But your voice sounded tired, even to you, and his name rang cold. ”Thank you.” He hesitated. You buried yourself deeper under the covers. You just… didn’t want to hear it right now. Thankfully, whether he got the message or simply couldn’t decide what to say, he walked out of the room once more. After another ten minutes, you finally stood and came to the kitchen, wincing as you did so. He smiled when he caught sight of you, but the worried furrow in his eyebrows didn’t unknot.

”H- Hey, good morning. I made breakfast.” He gestured around at the spread. You eyed it over. “I- um- there’s fish and rice and miso soup and a rolled omelet- I made coffee, too, just in case- or we could- we could always order takeout or-”

”Hey.”you put your mug down on the table and walked towards him. His wings drew up, somewhere between fear and shame. He seemed to balance on a knife’s edge as you stood in front of him. You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his bare chest. “It’s okay.” You said softly, wrapping you arms around him and stroking at his back, between his wings.

Keigo nodded shakily, before finally hugging you back.

”I- I just- I didn’t feel like me when I came in last night,” He babbled against the top of your head, “And I’ve- I’ve felt really lost in the mission, all of my interactions are being watched, I could only step away last night because-” He took a breath. You felt the shudder in his body. He was tense, like he wanted to hold you tighter, but was too afraid to. “I wanted to come back and feel like me, I wanted- I-“ You hushed him. Keigo buried his face deeper into your hair. ”I’m…” Keigo started. You tensed. “I’m so-”

”Don’t.” You snapped.

You had an unspoken agreement- the two of you never apologized. You were almost proud of it, your ability to move on from mistakes and stupid things the other had said. You gave each other space any time you had an argument, and came back with level heads and open arms. This was the first real thing either of you had, they were both bound to make mistakes. You were happy you both knew that, and found something that worked for you guys, even if other people didn’t understand it.

Hearing him almost do so now made your throat tight and eyes burn.

”No, really, what happened last night-”

”Takami Keigo.” You wrenched yourself out of his grip, instead grabbing him by the arms, pinning them to his side. The cruelty in the sneer and look and touch and name shocked him like ice water. “It’s fine. I said yes. I could have used my safe word. I ask you to be rougher all the time. It-“ You cleared your throat. You removed your hands. “It is fine. I need you to drop it.”

Keigo stared, face to face with bared teeth and anger. “Okay.” His voice was just a whisper.

You stared for one last minute before letting go and turning away, back to your tea.you took a long, deep draught, before something caught your eye. He looked where your gaze fell. It was a mirror, in the hall. You touched your neck. “I forgot about those.” You hummed, looking thoughtful. Keigo couldn’t discern anything else from your expression, so he said nothing.

He turned away and grabbed a couple of dishes and began to plate everything up for the two of you. Before you sat down, he grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it under you without a word. For this, at least, you were grateful.

You ate in silence for a while. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. He found it a little hard to look at you, now, close up. He wished he could have been pleased to see you all marked up, but instead, you just looked… bruised. Battered. The way you did after a battle didn’t go your way. There was an exhaustion in your eyes you couldn’t fake and you didn’t bother to hide.

“When are you leaving?” You asked, your voice carefully free of any inflection. He bit his cheek. Usually this question would be asked with the clear wish that it wouldn’t be for as long as possible. But today, he was unsure.

“I was-” Any strength in his voice broke. “I need to leave tonight.” He admitted. You were entirely still for a moment, but just a moment. You resumed eating, without even looking at him the whole time.

“Alright,” Was all you said, soft and small and sad. Your utensils clicked, but otherwise, it was silent.

*****

The first day of the New Year was difficult. For once, you found yourself glad that Keigo was leaving. No matter what you did, you couldn’t get rid of the silent stiffness that permeated all of your interactions. Perhaps the distance would do you good for once.

When night fell, Keigo had to leave. He stood by the door and you came to say your goodbyes. He held his arms out tentatively, and you fell in at once. He squeezed you tightly. You squeezed back.

”How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. ”…Probably at least another three months.“ Your heart sank. You knew that, but to hear it was another can of worms. “But I will visit before then, I promise.”

”Okay,” Your voice was hollow with unshed tears. As he made to pull away, something desperate in you woke at once, and you held on tighter. “I- I miss you so much when you’re gone.” You rushed out, like he didn’t know that already. “This mission was so sudden, I went from seeing you all the time to not at all, and I don’t know what you’re doing or how dangerous it is, and I don’t even have anyone I can talk to about this because you’re who I talk to about things, please don’t leave me.” Your pathetic plea rang in the air for much longer than was comfortable.

He spoke, “I’ve been seeing you online again.” Picturing him seeing all the embarrassing headlines and memes and photos from your recent appearances made you groan. “You have no idea how proud I am of you, or how much I miss you, too. I’ll tell you all about it the second I can.” He pulled away a bit, cupping your cheek in his large, warm hand, lifting your chin to look at him. “I don’t- I don’t want to do this again, okay?” His gaze was loving, and sincere. You nodded, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks silently. “I don’t like it either, I promise.” He kissed your forehead. “Be brave, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, but the lump in your throat and chest hadn’t gone away. He hugged you again, and you both rocked back and forth and back and forth.

”Hey,” He said seriously. “I love you.”

That was another thing you didn’t say. Or, at least, it was very rare. You really only said it when you didn’t have to actually… say it. You wrote it in notes in code or texts. Occasionally, during a very intimate moment, or if you weren’t sure you were going to see each other again.

You swallowed, wondering which one of these things was true now.

”I love you, too.” He wrapped his wings around you. Their hold was soft and strong, and you felt like you could breathe easier, even if your chest was tighter.

Finally, finally, you pulled away. ”I’ll see you soon.” He promised, and your lips met for one last kiss.

”See you soon.” You repeated throatily. You waved with a miserable little half-smile as he slipped out the door, taking his bright red wings, all the color, and your heart from your world.

When you went out the next day, you remembered Keigo’s present and groaned unhappily, having forgotten to remind him of it- but when you went to check it, you saw that he had taken it, and left something in its stead.

It was a tiny box, covered in shiny, red wrapping paper. You stepped right back inside your place and tore it open, finding a ring box inside the first. Inside was a silver band made of metal feathers widing their way into a ring. Your mouth fell open at that alone, only to realize that there was an extra slit in the box.you checked the larger box it had come in. Inside was two photos- one that must have been of the advertisement, with your ring and a thicker-banded version of it- and the other was one of Keigo.

In the photo, he was somewhere far in the sky during sunset, pink and purple and orange and lovely all around him. He was beaming, always so handsome, but glowing with the halo of the sun and his smile. His wings were a blur behind him, but in front of him, his gloveless hand was fanned out, showing off his own ring from the matching set.

You laughed through tears, sliding the ring onto your finger. It seemed he hadn’t forgotten about Christmas, after all.

161 notes · View notes

holllandtrash · 1 year ago

Text

long live | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (epilogue to fragile line)

long live the walls we crashed through i had the time of my life with you long, long live the walls we crashed through how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

time passes and feelings may fade, but the memories never will word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: time jumps like always, angst and heartbreak but it's not all sad this time, or is it?

four years later

“Daniel Ricciardo, 2025 Formula 1 World Champion, The Honey Badger,” James Hinchcliffe put his arm around the fellow commentator, “Tell us what you know.”

“What I know, Hinch,” Daniel repeated, taking a dramatic look up towards the clear sky. “What do I know?”

They didn’t need to act like they were friends for the camera, James and Daniel had grown close in a short time, ever since Daniel put down the helmet and picked up a microphone, Replacing the racing overalls with a suit and tie. He had the personality to be a motorsports commentator. No one was surprised when he was announced as Sky Sports newest reporter following his Formula 1 retirement.

And James, a fellow retired driver himself from the IndyCar side, a Canadian with the humour and the banter that could keep up with Daniel, they were truly one of the best duos when it came to motorsports broadcasting.

They weren't often together, though. Daniel stuck to Formula 1. James was a regular for IndyCar. There were only a handful of races where they came together and the Indianapolis 500 was one of them.

They were a comedic duo last year at the 2026 running, it only made sense to bring Daniel back again this year.

“Who’s your money on?” James asked. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started he had an answer.

But he hesitated.

Or, maybe froze was a better word. Daniel froze when he dropped his gaze from the sky and looked further down the pit lane. They didn’t plan on standing a few slots away from the number 6 car of Arrow McLaren, but that's where they found themselves.

Daniel froze when he spotted the familiar face sitting on the bench in the pit wall, looking at the data on the screens and nodding along with the engineer as he spoke. Daniel froze, because even though he knew exactly who was driving that car, he still wasn’t prepared for what he would do when he saw the driver.

When he saw you.

You guys had agreed, long ago, that there would be no more interactions. That your careers, your lives, would be better if the other stayed as far away as possible.

Daniel knew that even now, four years later, he had no right to talk to you, to talk about you. He knew that at this point, it was for the best that ties were still cut, that the conversations didn’t happen. It had been over a year since your last interaction, he was in no position to change that.

And he tried, desperately, over the years to follow the rules you agreed on. You as well kept your distance, you had to.

But you were only human. There had been a few slip ups over the years.

For the remainder of the season, after the Austin race, you both had stuck to your word. You stopped giving the world the moments they were waiting for. You refused to interact with each other, you forced yourself to stop caring.

It grew easier with time. The 2024 season was challenging in itself, but with Max and Daniel fighting amongst each other in a league of their own, you knew you couldn’t fight them in a McLaren. All you could do was make the most of what you had.

Lando and you had a strong opening those first few races. McLaren was third in the constructors for a short time until other teams started to catch up, filling in the holes of their designs.

You quite literally didn’t have time to care about Daniel when you were so focused on the rest of the grid, your actual competition. Ferrari, Mercedes, Aston Martin even. Your upgrades were no match with theirs and by the end of the season, it was disappointing to look back without a podium to reminisce on. Lando scored two, one in Spa, the other in Singapore. You did well, but not well enough to bring home a trophy.

2025 was…different.

In many ways. Firstly, the McLarens showed consistency as the season continued. You and Lando were always top contenders for points.

Secondly, Daniel was giving Max a run for his money. He had a bit the year prior, but this season was far more competitive. You, like everyone else, was dying to see who would pull through and score that first place trophy at the end of the day, but you had to hide your desires for it to be Daniel.

You still hadn’t spoken. You had successfully veered away from any accidental interactions. His name stayed out of your mouth and at this point, everyone on the grid knew there was a disconnect. You both had gone out of your way, this year and in 2024, to assure there would be no media appearances together, no driver conferences, nothing that the online world could twist.

But you couldn’t do anything about still being happy for him. That would never go away. You would always want Daniel to succeed. You just couldn’t be watching the screens when he podiumed. You couldn’t go out with him and the others to celebrate. You couldn’t wish him a congrats in passing like Lando could if you were walking down the paddock.

Daniel felt the same. While the love was gone, there was nothing he could do about those proud moments. He wanted you to make a name in this sport, to make history. He wanted you to be someone and even though he once wanted to be at your side while you planted your roots, he couldn’t.

Except that one time when he physically was at your side.

There was a mistake in the media pen scheduling on that Thursday in Miami. From what you knew, Daniel was supposed to be in the press conference and you’d be one of the ten unlucky few that had to stand under the Miami sun in the football field, talking about how you were looking forward to this race when in reality you personally thought this was the worst race on the calendar.

But it was too hot to complain about anything other than the heat and how you needed to change shirts as soon as the media pen segment was over because the breathable material of your papaya polo was anything but breathable.

You had barely stepped into the roped off circle to join the other drivers when you heard your name being called. Glancing over your shoulder, it took a second to realise that the call was coming from a young girl running in your direction. Her paddock lanyard flailing over her shoulder as she sprinted, one hand held onto her McLaren hat so it wouldn’t fall off.

“She can’t be here-”

“Piss off, she’s fine,” you weren’t even sure who you interrupted, but you didn’t give the risk of a reprending a second thought as you stepped forward to meet the young fan.

She was small, and you weren’t a professional when it came to guessing the ages of kids but you would put her somewhere in the range of six and eight. Maybe?

You knelt down to be more at eye level, “Hi darling, what’s your name?”

“Cara,” she answered, slightly out of breath. There was a gap in her teeth from where she must have just lost one, but it didn’t affect her grin at all.

“Hi Cara,” you smiled at her, only then noticing she wore a shirt with your last name on it. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw an older gentleman running towards her. “Is that your dad?”

Cara looked and then nodded, but she didn’t care that she had completely abandoned him and given him a heart attack. “I saw you last year here. You finished fifth, my dad took me to watch. He says you- he says that you’re the only girl driver.”

“I am the only girl driver,” you confirmed, pouting slightly. You brushed your hand over her shoulder to smooth out the material of the shirt, “That should change soon, don’t you think? All of these boys need to be put in their place and I can’t do it alone.”

“I can join,” Cara suggested. The carefree optimism was a rare sight at one of these race weekends, but you admired it in Cara. She was too young to know the difficulties of being a female in this field and hopefully by the time she grew up, there were less walls for her to climb over, just doors to open.

“You can join,” you nodded at the idea, laughing slightly, mostly because her dad had caught up to her and he was more out of breath than she saw. You smiled at him but looked back at Cara, “Do you race?”

“Yes!”

“No,” her dad answered, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet, at least. We’ve signed her up for karting this summer, we’ll see how it goes.”

“I can already tell you’ll be a natural,” you told Cara. Watching her face light up was probably the most rewarding feeling you’d get all weekend.

“I want to be like you. I want to win races, I want to win a championship!”

“You know what Cara, I can’t break every record, being the first girl driver. So I’ll save the championship one for you, how about that? I want to see you become the first girl to win the championship.” You gave her arm a squeeze and then stood up, turning your focus to her dad.

He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and although you couldn’t make assumptions that he was single, the greying hair at a fairly young age and the bags under his eyes told you that he was mostly likely the main caretaker for Cara.

“She’s got dreams,” you said.

He nodded, but smiled proudly, “That she does.”

You didn’t want to speak negatively about this industry in front of Cara, you didn’t want to crush her dreams, but you also didn't want her to grow up and be hopelessly disappointed either.

“It’s not easy for girls in this sport,” you told him. “But if she’s serious, if both of you are, look into working with Mary from Victory Speedway, located out in Tampa. She’s got contacts with F1 Academy as well. They’re goal is to make it easier.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, holding out his hand to shake. “And thank you for talking with Cara. Both of us are big fans, you truly are inspiring.”

You chatted for a bit longer, ignoring Oliver who was at your side reminding you that you had media duties. They could wait. A photo with the girl that seemed to be your biggest fan and maybe one day your predecessor, couldn’t wait.

No one really heard what you spoke about, the other drivers had their own obligations in the media pen.

Daniel, though, he listened.

He was standing right near the entrance when Cara had run up. He had watched you bend down to chat with her, making her a priority opposed to the reporters. He was less than two feet away as he overheard your conversation and when you turned around, ready to get the media day over with, you met his eyes.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t look away.

Daniel wanted to tell you he admired that conversation, the hope you installed in the young fan. He wanted to tell you that you made a great role model, for not just girls but all aspiring drivers. He wanted to say a lot of things to you.

He settled on a question, “You’re not trying to win the championship?”

This was the first time you had spoken in months and it wasn’t even in private. It was quite literally in front of cameras, reporters, people with audio recording devices and microphones. You opened your mouth slightly only to lock up, giving him an apologetic look because you both knew better than to be having any sort of interaction.

You turned to face the first reporter, ignoring Daniel’s question completely. He just nodded to himself and walked to his own spot, keeping you in the corner of his eye.

This young reporter, though, was also curious, having overheard what Daniel asked.

“You’re not vying for a championship? Does Zak Brown know this?” He asked with a soft chuckle.

You shrugged and gave him a smile, “I mean, every driver's dream is the championship, but it’s not my goal currently. Your goals can, and should, be different than your dreams. And yes, Zak knows this, don’t you worry.”

“Your goal then, what is it?”

You inhaled, thinking to yourself for a second, “I’ve got a few and I have a good team supporting me while I work towards them. First would be to make as much history as I can, set as many records while I have a spot in Formula 1 and then I want to help other female drivers break them.”

“You want your records to be broken?”

“If it means getting more females into Formula 1, then yes.”

Daniel, who was in the middle of trying to listen to the reporter in front of him, smiled as he heard that. It was a very you response. He leaned forward, gripping the railing a bit because he completely misheard his own question and needed him to repeat it.

“And your other goal?” The young reporter asked you.

Your lips curved into more of a devious smile, deciding to keep that one close to your chest. “Do you have any questions about the race this weekend? Or are you trying to write a biography on my life?”

Daniel was dying to know what it was too. He spent the rest of that media session racking through the memories of you, there were a lot, trying to think if you ever had that conversation. You must have, right? So why couldn’t he remember?

When all of you made your way out and back to the paddock, Daniel ignored the voice in his head telling him to just let it go. He completely drowned it out as he jogged up to your side, refraining from reaching out and brushing his hand over your elbow to grab your attention. Instead he just said,

“Hey.”

You glanced up, instinctively stepping to the side as you walked to put more space between your bodies.

“Hi,” you breathed out, pulling your eyes off of him and on the Red Bull motorhome that was coming up. This conversation would be short, he’d have to go back inside. You’d be fine for ten seconds, right?

“So what-” he cleared his throat. This shouldn’t have been awkward but it was. After so long of not even glancing at each other, there were new lines painted between you. Daniel didn’t know how to navigate them, and honestly, neither did you.

“Triple Crown, Dan,” you answered, knowing that's where he was going when he opened his mouth.

The Triple Crown. Monaco. Indy 500. 24 Hours of Le Mans.

He took a second to process that goal, not having expected it in the slightest. When he nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes, only there was less pain and more distance. He didn’t know you like he thought he did.

“I never knew you were aiming for the Triple Crown.”

“You never asked.”

He had trained you, helped you become the best athlete you could be. He had introduced you to the right people. He acted as a mentor, but the conversations you had about racing were limited. There was a lack of communication in that sense because why bring work home with you?

But that was the wedge driven between you. Had you talked about racing, contracts, your futures, you would have never found yourself in that McLaren contract scandal that ultimately broke you two up.

He nodded, because what else could he say to that? You gave him a soft smile and told yourself to keep walking, to move to the other side of the paddock as Daniel headed into the Red Bull motorhome.

You don’t interact again until Monaco. Daniel now knew winning this race meant more to you than others. Winning this would be one third of the Triple Crown checked off and as much as he was gunning for the podium, thankful for his P2 starting position, he saw that you were starting fourth and took a breath of relief. You had a shot.

Daniel wasn’t sure what came over him when he saw you in the paddock after qualifying. Maybe it was because you not completely shutting him down in Miami gave him a strange surge of confidence to approach you again, or maybe it was because he was ignoring all the voices in his head to just keep walking. Whatever it was, Daniel saw you chatting with a member of Sky Sports and as he walked passed, patted your shoulder in a congratulatory manner.

You paused whatever it was you were saying and turned in his direction, just in time to see him give you a smile and a thumbs up as he continued on his way. You returned it, but that small interaction had you stumbling over your words for the next two hours.

Not because you were smitten, you were past that. You didn’t look at Daniel anymore and lose your train of thought, you didn’t get lost in a daze and allow everything else to fade around you.

But he didn’t seem to let go of you completely yet, and you could work with that. You could be civil. You could be neutral during race weekends, as long as it didn’t go further than the friendly smiles and minimal chats.

It shouldn’t have been hard to keep the conversations short, you hadn’t actually had anything meaningful to say to each other in over a year. When you ran into him after the race on Sunday, after he claimed the title of Monaco Grand Prix race winner for a second time, you should have just said congratulations and kept walking.

But Daniel saw you as he was propped up against the side of the Red Bull motorhome and then he stood up straighter, almost inviting you to walk up to him. There were no cameras around anymore, the majority of the paddock had gone home so you felt safer, sort of. If the world hadn’t lost their minds at the clip of him patting your back yesterday, you could talk to him now.

The Red Bull engineer he was with said his goodbyes and smiled politely at you as you approached, stopping at a safe distance.

“Another Monaco win under your belt.”

“So it seems,” Daniel tried his best to not look too proud of himself. You could see his dimples poking through. You wanted him to not be holding back, you missed his grin but gone were the days when he didn’t have to refrain with you.

“You deserve it,” you nodded, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. You were scared of any stragglers with iPhones, but no one around seemed to care that you and Daniel were talking. You were drivers, it shouldn’t have been a strange sight.

“You deserve it,” Daniel playfully shot back. “I mean, I couldn’t just hand it over this year though, despite your Triple Crown goal.”

“Oh but next year? You’ll let me have it then?” You asked, eyebrows raised. It was a joke, a small tease, but Daniel’s smile slipped and you caught it. You caught it and you stepped forward, hand flinching because it would be moments like this where you’d want to reach for him but you couldn’t do that anymore, could you?

Daniel tensed. Now it was his turn to look anxiously around, “I might not-” a sharp inhale passed through his lips, “Yeah I might not be here next year.”

You scoffed because that idea was preposterous, “Oh shut up.”

“No it’s true,” Daniel said, but his smile told you that he wasn’t sad about it. “You know how your goal is the Triple Crown?”

“Yes.”

“Mine’s the championship, sweets.”

You weren’t given an opportunity to react to the nickname because he continued on explaining without missing a beat. Either he didn’t see the way saying sweets affected you or he didn’t even notice he said it because even after all this time, it still came naturally to him.

“There’s a clause in my contract,” he said. “If I win the championship this year, we can renegotiate. I can leave, I can- I can retire. The way I want to.”

You didn’t know how to process this.

Daniel belonged in Formula 1. He fought so hard for his seat, he was a mess when he was left without one and now there was a chance he’d be gone?

And even though you were only eight races in, already he was leading the driver standings over Max, not by much, but he was. There was a strong possibility Daniel could take the championship home at the end of the season.

You couldn’t say what was on your mind. You couldn’t say, selfishly, I hope you lose the championship. You couldn’t say that it was impossible to imagine the paddock without him because even those few months when he wasn’t racing, he was still there.

“We’ve still got a few months to go,” Daniel’s voice broke you from your thoughts, trying to move to a brighter note because that’s just who he was. “But this could be good for you. You’ll have a real shot at winning Monaco next year. But I mean- you technically already won Monaco.”

“That was F2.”

“I think it still counts.”

“I think I’ll win it again, just to be safe.”

Daniel liked that response, he liked how confident you were that the win was coming. He nodded and he really would have liked to talk to you more about this, about his potential leave, about your success, but when he was called from across the paddock you didn’t hesitate before saying goodbye. The conversation was long enough.

Things seemed lighter between you after that.

You didn’t stop yourself from being visibly happy when he was doing well. You laughed if you overheard the stupid shit he said in the paddock. You didn’t make a big deal about it when you two were signed up for the same press conference session. Granted, you still sat on complete opposite ends of the couch, but you sat there with a smile because you liked hearing Daniel talk about the lead he still carried in the standings.

Spa was the turning point for you two.

While you hadn’t taken any more steps beyond paddock conversations and friendly interactions, what was Daniel supposed to do when you both ended up on the podium together? Him on top, claiming first, you right next to him on the second step?

You both held back when you climbed out of the cars. He opted for a friendly pat on the back even though he wanted nothing more than to bring you in for an embrace. You had podiumed once already this season, but not with Daniel. You stood between the two Mercedes drivers back in Austria but now you were there, with Daniel at your side, both of you beaming.

You were proud of yourselves. You were proud of each other.

Both of you had dreamt of this moment, standing next to each other on the podium. You still remembered that conversation years ago, trying to imagine what it would be like to hear the cheers for both of you.

‘You’ll have to do a shoey.’

‘Only if you win. I’m not doing one if I win.’

You had shared this dream when you were in love and even though that wasn’t the case anymore, the dream was still very much alive. Because of that, it almost didn’t feel right.

It felt sort of unfulfilling, despite you being handed a heavy trophy.

But this was a moment that you would remember for the rest of your life. All of your accomplishments were held very close to your heart but this one meant more than you could put into words.

Hands shaking, crowd going wild, you were on top of the world and you were standing next to the man you used to be in love with. You glanced to the side to watch him, not able to stop yourself from smiling wide and then wider still as he held his head high like a hero.

Daniel was larger than life.

He always would be.

You tried not to let yourself think that this might be the only chance you’d get to stand here with him. This win only pushed him further ahead in the championship and you were, seemingly, the only one who knew this year would be his last if he ended up winning.

You had to hold onto this moment. It wouldn’t come again.

To everyone watching at home, this was the start of a new age with you and Daniel. Fans could see the way you two interacted, the sheer joy you had for each other, something they hadn’t seen since you still raced in F2.

To you, this was the beginning of the end.

Finally, you and Daniel were getting to a place where things could be good and in a few short months, he’d be gone.

You couldn’t think about it more, not when you felt champagne being sprayed in your direction. You were late to the game and popped yours after Daniel and Max had, but you still joined in with the celebration.

You laughed when Daniel took his shoe off and poured some of the bubbly liquid into the sole. He laughed when you refused to drink it, both of you ignoring the fact that if you were still in love, if you were still together, you would have done the shoey with him.

Daniel was content with the nod. He knew you were happy for him, the same way he was happy for you. But neither of you could show it the way you wanted to.

The championship win was decided at the second last race of the season, Qatar.

You didn’t have a good weekend, and you knew this. You took responsibility for the poor qualifying, the bad performance, for all of it. But you were distracted, unable to keep yourself from thinking about Daniel because if he won this race, he won it all.

And then he’d walk away.

You were conflicted. You wanted to see Daniel take home the win but selfishly, you wanted him in Formula 1. You always wanted him in Formula 1.

So when he crossed that line, ahead of Max, ahead of the rest of the grid, when he did celebratory donuts and stood on the podium with his chin held high, you stood on the sidelines and ignored how you used to wish for a day like this, wished for a day where he would be crowned the Championship Winner.

Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion.

It had a nice ring to it.

That’s what you told him that night when you were out at dinner and saw him sitting with a few members from his team just a few feet away. You weren’t surprised to see him at the establishment, it was exclusive, it was way overpriced and it was where many drivers went prior to going out and partying.

You avoided his eyes that evening, scared that if you’d meet them you’d be forced to accept the reality that he really was leaving. At least, you know, if you didn’t look at him, you could live in your own little world where he wasn’t gone just yet.

You were genuinely annoyed when you bumped into him after leaving the toilets. The hall was dim, narrow and there was quite literally nowhere for you to go when he turned the corner and stopped walking when he saw you.

“Hi,” you swallowed, anxiously smoothing out the skirt you wore, even more anxiously trying to avoid his eyes.

“Hi,” Daniel slid his hands into his pockets. His Enchante shirt clung to his skin due to the heat, but you told yourself you weren’t allowed to look at the way his little curls stuck to his forehead.

“You, um-” you held your hand out. “Congratulations, really. Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion. It’s got a nice ring to it.”

He laughed and nodded along, “Yeah, yeah, thank you.”

When he leaned against the wall, you realised you were stuck. There was no getting out of this conversation. No escaping this reality.

It didn’t help that the rest of the dining room faded behind him. The people, the sounds, the light, it was just Daniel.

Just Daniel and just you.

How it always should have been.

How it would never be again.

You opened your mouth, intent on saying something else about his win but all that came out was a shaky breath and a choked back sob that triggered the tears you didn’t even know were building. It was quiet, but it was desperate and it was painful and Daniel didn’t hesitate before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your cries were muffled against his shirt and Daniel stroked your back and then your hair, holding you tight against him.

You were happy for him, really. If anyone deserved this win, it was him but god you were devastated because up until now, you didn’t realise you still held this much love for him. Up until now, you didn’t realise that even after everything, you still needed him.

You needed him.

“What am I going to do without you on the grid?” You asked, your voice was already quiet but it was even more so muffled as you spoke directly into his body.

Daniel chuckled, it vibrated through his chest. “What you’ve been doing this whole time, sweets. You’ll make history. You’ll put the rest of the guys in their places. You’ll be the driver I know you to be.”

It took a few seconds, maybe a few minutes actually, of just standing there and crying into his chest until you snapped out of it. You weren’t dating anymore, your conversations now didn’t last longer than five minutes, it was embarrassing to be losing it in front of him, because of him.

You stepped back and wiped your eyes, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t- I just-”

“I’ll miss you too, Y/N,” he breathed out.

You nodded, because if you tried to say anything else you would be crying again. Daniel held his finger up and walked into the toilets to grab some tissue for you. It took another minute for you to be able to trust your voice again.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving,” you dabbed at your cheeks, knowing you’d have to go back to the hotel to fix your make up before going out again.

“I’ve got things lined up,” Daniel shrugged.

“Care to share?”

He tried to hide his smile and failed miserably, “Just don’t be surprised if I show up at the track next year with a microphone instead of a helmet.”

That was about as much he would say as his deal with Sky Sports wasn’t yet official.

But now you felt more like an idiot for crying about him leaving if he wasn’t even actually leaving. You’d still see him. He’d still be around. You could work with that.

Daniel could still be proud of your accomplishments, even if he was on the sidelines.

He was, however, a little conflicted when you won the last race of the 2025 season.

You made history in Abu Dhabi. The first female driver to win a race. This was a wall you had spent years trying to crash through and now there you were. On top of the podium, on top of the world as confetti fell to the ground around you, champagne sprayed in all directions.

This was your moment.

Your win, your first win and all you wanted was Daniel up on that podium with you. As happy as you were to celebrate with Max and George, you couldn’t deny something was missing.

Because you really could never cut yourself off from Daniel completely, could you? You could try, you could attempt to distance yourself, you could stop the interactions and you could tell yourself you didn’t care but you were right that day you told Lando that Daniel was your missing piece.

So it made sense that you were at a bit of a loss for words when he showed up at your hotel room that next morning.

You invited him in, despite being slightly hungover. He didn’t care that your clothes were spread all throughout the room, but he did smile at the sight of your trophy on proud display on the table before you had to give it to your engineer for safe travels.

“So this is it,” you sighed, sitting down on the far side of the couch. Daniel sat down as well, the opposite side, arm stretched along the back of it.

“This is it,” he agreed.

“When does the news drop?”

He clicked his tongue, “Tomorrow.”

“Who’s replacing you?”

“Not sure,” he scratched the stubble along his jaw. “My guess is Lawson or possibly Palou.”

You sat in silence for a while, thankful that it wasn’t uncomfortable because it easily could have been.

But you both grew this season.

You could both admit now, being in love and being drivers was an unattainable dream.

But you could be drivers and you could still have love for each other.

You reached across the couch, a gentle smirk playing on your lips as you nudged his arm, “So what are you going to say about me?”

Daniel dipped his head back and laughed, “What do you mean?”

“You know,” you shrugged. “Like when you talk about us drivers on Sky Sports. What are you going to say about me?”

“I’m going to say that not only did you steal my seat, but you stole the glory of my last race by winning.”

You rolled your eyes, recognizing the sarcasm but you were thankful his words weren’t malicious anymore, “I thought we were past this. I didn’t steal your seat, Dan.”

“No, but I don’t think I can joke about it on air so this is my last chance.”

You reached behind you and grabbed one of the throw pillows, smacking it against his chest. You chose to look at this playfully, instead of it as the inevitable end.

And Daniel needed a second to think about your question anyway, so the joke was just a way to stall. Honestly, he was a little surprised that he hadn’t already thought about it considering you were on his mind more than you should have been.

He cleared his throat and adjusted himself on the couch cushion. You could see that he was struggling to come up with a good response and you didn’t mean for this. You didn’t want him to think he had to choose his words carefully.

“Hey,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, “Promise me something.”

You met his eyes, his dark brown eyes that once had such a strong hold over you. You looked at him and remembered why you fell in love with him in the first place. In this moment, it was hard to remember why you ever wanted to stop loving him.

Had you stopped loving him? Did that day really come?

You could have love for someone and not be in love with him anymore, but you didn’t think you’d find yourself in a position where you had to differentiate between the two. You thought, you knew, you would always be in love with Daniel that to sit here and think that maybe, possibly, you didn’t anymore, felt like a betrayal.

He was supposed to be the one that stood by you through it all. The good, the bad, the wins, the losses. It wasn’t supposed to end with you two sitting on the couch and admitting that this truly was over.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but you always knew it would.

Fate stepped in and whether you liked it or not, it was forcing you into a goodbye, into an acceptance that your lives would no longer be intertwined, that you couldn’t go back to the way things were.

“Anything,” Daniel spoke softly. Maybe one day he would have said, I’d promise you the world, if you asked, but that seemed a little too forward for the moment.

“Be honest, Dan,” you told him, your hand finding his over the edge of the couch. Your thumb brushed against his fingers and both of you fought the urge to just connect them further. “Tell them my name, but tell them how I got to Formula 1. Tell them it was you, that you helped me pave the way, that you helped me make a name in this sport. Don’t just point to the pictures of me, point to the ones of us. Now that you’re done with racing, I don’t care about the assumptions, the rumours, any of it. Tell people how it really was you and I, how we were the team that should have been, that never was, please, because even though I know-”

You paused, taking a second to swallow the lump at the back of your throat. You glanced at your hand and maybe it was you or maybe it was him, but your fingers started to interlock. Your eyes stayed glued to the touch as your last admittance filled the air between you.

“I know I could have made it to Formula 1 without you, but I can’t put into words how thankful I am that I didn’t have to.”

Daniel nodded, because he agreed with you. He knew you could have gotten here without him but he too was grateful he was by your side for the start of it. He agreed that you two really were the team that never was but should have been. He nodded and agreed that he would say all of those things.

But you knew that he wouldn’t.

Those words were for him, not the rest of the world.

He would tell people that you shined on top of the podium. He would say that the crowds went wild, louder for you than any other driver.

And he would never say that he had any part of shaping your career. Despite you knowing he did, despite the whole world knowing he played a detrimental part, Daniel didn’t hold onto those connections when you went on to race in 2026 and he stood in the commentators box.

He stayed neutral, surprisingly.

It helped that he didn’t interact with many drivers or if he did, it was never you. He did talk about you, but only about your performance on the track. His colleagues knew not to bring up your past, not when the only thing that mattered was how well you were doing in the present.

He had some thoughts when you announced you were making the switch to IndyCar at the end of this season, but mostly because you made that announcement before the Monaco Grand Prix, before you claimed the win you were chasing, before you could check off one third of the Triple Crown.

He wanted to pull you aside and question why you were making this choice but he couldn’t. He also couldn’t call you out publicly on air like other reporters had.

All he could do was hold his breath after you qualified P2 in Monaco. He sat on the edge of his seat, struggling to do his job, struggling to commentate on the race because the second you made the move to overtake Max and it worked, Daniel had to leave the room.

He had to leave because he knew that if you kept the lead, if you won, he couldn’t celebrate the way he wanted to with cameras on him. Instead, he watched from the privacy of a separate media suite. The broadcast was a few seconds delayed but at least he was able to cheer and be visibly proud of you and not have to hold back when you crossed the line ahead of Max.

You won the Monaco Grand Prix, in a McLaren of all cars, and now he knew what you were gunning for next.

The Indy 500.

Signing that Arrow McLaren deal ended up being the right move after all.

“Who’s your money on?” James Hinchcliffe asked him as they stood on the pit lane where the teams were preparing for the greatest spectacle in racing. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started, he had an answer. Despite knowing you were still far from winning the Indy 500, his money would always be on you.

You looked up from where you sat on the Arrow McLaren bench and you smiled at him.

You were having a pretty good season, for a rookie. With O’Ward and Rossi as your teammates, you knew you couldn’t compare, but they were good people to have on your team, in your corner. They helped you, guided you through the shift from Formula 1 to Indy and you could be proud that in a grid of 26 drivers, you were 11th in the standings.

“Not betting on anyone, James,” Daniel answered, but his eyes were still locked on you and his smirk said otherwise. “It’ll be a good race.”

He could say your name, he wanted to. But Daniel stayed as far away from your life as he could because you decided on it a long time ago and nothing that happened since told him that you’d be going back on that decision, that you wanted him back in your life.

He might not have been a driver anymore, but you still were. So he was content with being civil, neutral. He was fine with the friendly smiles and if an old photo of the two of you circulated every now and again, well, he didn’t hate it.

He sat with the rest of the Indy commentators during the race. He shared his honest opinions throughout and he, along with the other reporters, praised Alexander Rossi for taking home his second Indy 500 victory, eleven years after his first.

But that was not the Arrow McLaren driver he wished was celebrating in Victory Lane.

Daniel waited until his job was done, but he knew he had to find you before the day ended. He wanted to congratulate you on finishing twelfth. That was something he was proud of and he hoped you were as well.

It would only go up from there. The Indy 500 was still an achievable goal.

He found you in the paddock. It wasn’t hard. You stood out, even in the crowd of people. He waited off to the side and watched you take photos with young girls, young fans that resembled that one girl in Miami, all of them looking up to you and thanking you for paving the way for them, for other females in motorsport.

It was by chance that you looked over your shoulder and saw Daniel standing there. He nodded, wordlessly assuring you that he could wait, to take your time with the fans.

He ended up waiting almost fifteen minutes.

Eventually, you started to approach him. Daniel stood up straighter, having been leaning against the Penske trailers until you were done. You still had your racing overalls on, but unzipped and hanging loosely on your hips. The black fireproofs under the papaya looked good on you, but Daniel hadn’t let himself appreciate your appearance for years, he couldn’t start now, even if he really wanted to.

“Hey,” you called out when you were only a few steps away.

“Hey yourself,” Daniel chuckled. When you finally stood in front of him, he was sort of expecting to see a sliver of defeat, but you were happy. You may not have won the 500, but you had a good run and there was always next year. Plus, you still had the rest of the season to finish. The season wasn’t over, you could still make history in this sport.

You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced around, jaw clenched until you finally worked up the courage to meet his eyes.

“So,” you inhaled a breath. “You’ve got some time on your hands now that you’re retired, right?”

Daniel wasn’t sure where this was going but he laughed and nodded, “Somewhat, yes, but I do still work race weekends.”

“But Monday through Wednesday?”

He pondered it for a second, just for dramatic effect. “I’m fairly open.”

You nodded, hoping for that answer.

If you were being honest with yourself, this was a conversation you wanted to have with Daniel since he announced his retirement almost two years ago, you just never knew what the outcome would be.

You felt a bit safer now, knowing that he was based out of the UK and your races were only North American. If he hated where you were going with this, well, it was rare you’d be crossing paths so soon afterwards.

You just had to blurt it out.

“Ever thought about being a trainer?” You asked. “Or a manager? Mentor even? You know- my last mentor walked out on me-”

Daniel cut you off with a booming laugh, “Walked out? Really? Is that what you tell people?”

Him playing along with your humour felt like a weight off your shoulders, “Only if they ask.”

Daniel, finally, didn’t have to refrain himself anymore. He felt confident enough to drape his arm over your shoulders and walk with you down the paddock. For once, he didn’t care if people looked or recorded and secretly, he hoped they did.

All he wanted was to be at your side. All he wanted was for the world to know he was proud of you, that, if you asked, he’d be back in your corner.

And you were asking.

“So you need a mentor?” He repeated. “A trainer?”

Your hand slipped around his waist. It was natural, comforting, right.

“Well, I need to win the 500 eventually and then I need to get into Le Mans. I can’t do it alone.”

Daniel looked at you, wearing that stupid grin you missed so much even if you had memorised it the first day you met. You missed him, despite hearing his voice on the broadcasts and seeing him in the paddock. You missed him, he was your missing piece after all.

Daniel looked at you, and you knew, you weren’t alone.

__________________

the end ♡

taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora @simple-soul-searcher

for some reason im struggling to add people to the taglist, i deeply apologise

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #dr3 #f1 fics #formula 1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au

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lieutenantfloyd · 9 months ago

Note

Could you do Beau Cyclone Simpson with wife reader where she surprise him with the news of her pregnancy? Just something fluff and cute. Tag me later! Thanks! :))

Speechless | Cyclone x Reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and anxiety.

Authors note: This request has been living in my head rent free for over a week and has sent me down a rabbit hole of wholesome baby announcement tiktoks lol

Read on AO3

You and Beau have been together for the better part of a decade, and married for over half of that time. Naturally, you've had plenty of conversations about starting a family throughout your relationship. The conversations confirmed that you were on the same page—"Whatever happens, happens." He'd murmured into the crook of your neck after a bit too much liquor—but always had a dreamy, hypothetical air to them. Even now, looking down at the soft linen onesie, "Hi, Daddy!" board book, and paperwork confirming your upcoming eight-week prenatal appointment, things still didn't feel quite real.

You arrange—and rearrange—the items in the gift basket until your house's silence is interrupted by the sound of the front door closing. You glance at the clock on the bedside table and notice it's only six o'clock in the evening. Typically Beau wouldn't be home this early, but you know that today's doctor's appointment followed by your vague updates afterward had inevitably left him worried.

You'd never known your husband to be a man of grand gestures and even less one to make bold declarations of love. Yet you had learned early on in your relationship that he was a man who shined brightest when in the traditional role of a provider. The fine details—from managing your monthly bills and ensuring that there was a fresh bouquet of flowers on your bedside table each week—was one area that he took serious pride in.

Maybe that's why you didn't argue when he scheduled a doctor's appointment for you in the first place. An appointment you had attended simply to silence the alarm bells going off in the mind of your darling—if not overprotective—husband. Though just as luck would have it, a blood test revealed that what you'd chalked up to be a rather strong bout seasonal allergies was actually the symptoms of your first trimester.

Hearing the clank of his keys against the table downstairs, you take a seat on the bed. Your heart rate picks up as he calls out to you. You tell him you'll be right down as you pull the basket into your lap. With a heavy breath, you give it a final look over before gripping the wooden handles and pacing out of the room.

His back is facing you as you enter the kitchen. He perks up at the sound of your footsteps, but you speak before he has the chance to turn around.

"I have a surprise, but I need you to close your eyes." You say, pushing down the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach.

He hums lowly in response, and you move around him once you see his posture shift as his remaining senses go on high alert. Despite the butterflies, you can't help the smile that breaks out on your face as you place the basket on the kitchen island in front of him.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

His blue eyes flicker open and immediately land on you. You give him a soft, reassuring smile and nod downwards. His gaze follows yours, and you watch closely as he takes in what's in front of him. Even after years together, you can't help but melt as a look of graceful concentration floods his handsome features.

As expected, he bypasses the other items in favor of examining the paperwork. Your heart hammers in your chest as his eyes scan the page. The look on his face shifts into one of loving softness as everything clicks into place in his head.

"You're-"

"-pregnant."

The word barely leaves your mouth before he drops the papers and pulls you into his arms. His strong hands run over the small of your back as he places a kiss atop your head. You stay like this—sheltered in each other's embrace—for several beats. Eventually, he pulls away, though only far enough for you to adjust and see the smile blooming on his face. One of his hands departs your back, only to find purchase against your cheek. Another beat passes before he shakes his head as if in disbelief.

"I don't know what to say..." he voices softly.

"Are you happy?"

"I'm over the moon." He smiles.

Your heart screams at you to kiss him, only for him to be faster. Your lips meet gently, though not an ounce of passion is missing from the kiss. Whatever fear and anxiety that you had still been holding onto vanished in an instant. He pulls away and leans down to place a peck against your shoulder, which he does only when falling deep into thought. You raise a hand and run your fingers through his short cropped hair before inquiring about what’s on his mind.

"A to-do list, along with a list of potential nursery paint colors."

His words make your heart swell, but you can’t pass up the opportunity to press his buttons just a little.

"Can we at least make it through our first official doctor's visit before you start drafting schematics?"

"Preparation is the key to success." He states matter-of-factly, only to earn a sarcastic eye roll from you.

"Hey,” he says while poking at your side, “you knew exactly who I was when you married me."

“Isn’t hindsight is 20/20?” You respond playfully.

A crease forms between his eyebrows as he feigns offense, though it’s only seconds before he joins you in laughter. Watching your face light up, he shakes his head softly before capturing your lips for another kiss.

Taglist: @pear-1206 @marchingicenotes7 @bayisdying @princessofglitterland @bella-law @callsignaries @katesmadness @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @shakira-sasha @xoxabs88xox @fanboyluvr @alexxavicry @madamemelancholysstuff @paola-carter @barbiewritesstuff @dozcan123 @withakindheartx @nyx2021 @teti-menchon0604 @kmc1989

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #beau cyclone simpson #cyclone #top gun maverick x reader #beau cyclone simpson x reader #cyclone x reader #topgun #top gun fluff #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick fanfiction

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ssaeri · 2 years ago

Text

we fall to ashes

☆ tags: alex x gn!reader, he finds something that he never expected to see on your farm, this was going to be angst with an angst ending, but then my sister begged me to not write a sad ending, so have this relieving happy ending instead, LOTS of alex spoilers! ☆

Alex stretches his arms over his head and breathes in deep. In the distance, he hears chickens screaming—a sure sign that he's getting closer to your farm. The walk from his house isn't short, but while his grandparents would complain about the distance, he finds it ideal for cooling down after his harder work-outs. And he gets to see you at the end? He'd say that's a winner winner chicken dinner situation...out of earshot from your coop, at least.

"Hey there! Evelyn's boy!" Pam calls from his right.

He slows to a stop and waves. She sits in the driver seat of her newly repaired bus, window fully open, and takes another swig from her Joja Cola. Immediately, her face scrunches.

"Mornin', Pam!" he yells back. "How's that alcohol detox going for you?"

"Awful." She smacks her lips and holds the can up to her eyes, searching the ingredients for what makes it so fucking nasty. You often joke that it's the bitter taste of capitalism. "I could go for something stronger in this heat. You think the farmer has an extra glass of pale ale?"

Alex's smile tightens. Ever since Pam and Penny's trailer turned into an actual house, Pam's been doing her best to break old habits and he's glad for it—he can finally walk by her without the reflexive gag and hurried steps. You telling me I stink? she used to ask, angry in her drunken stupor, until she remembered why he showed up on his grandparents' steps nearly two decades ago.

She must read it in his expression now because she waves him off with a roll of her eyes. "I'm kidding, kid. Tell 'em I said hi. They're the only one who takes this damn bus anyway. I might as well take a nap." She slides sunglasses onto her face and reclines her chair until he can't see her anymore. "If I'm still here by the time you go home, wake me up."

Classic Pam, he thinks as he continues to your farm. Your dog is already running from the front door to greet him, panting and barking and disturbing your horse's peace.

"Come on, buddy," he laughs, shooing your dog until he can push open the gate. "I was supposed to surprise them."

Alex scratches your horse's ear as he passes its stable. Grape vines twist and sag on the trellises you've set up for the season, the structures nearly bursting with fruit, and he makes a mental note to stop by tomorrow to help with the harvesting. Maybe it could substitute for a work-out. He's helped you ship boxes of produce before and wondered how ripped he'd be after a month of your lifestyle. Between the trellises, the melons are just starting to come in. He doesn't know how long it takes for them to ripen, only that they taste really good when you drop off a basket for his grandma.

He calls out your name. Not in the fields, not in the pasture. Your new greenhouse, maybe? You were muttering something about ancient fruit last night. Or the mushroom cave, something he still can't believe is a feature on your farm. If Demetrius could add that, maybe Alex could talk you into installing an outdoor lifting station.

He walks past your workbench and active machines...

...and walks backwards again, hoping that his eyes are deceiving him. Crystalariums reproducing diamonds to sell, charcoal kilns working double time for enough coal, bone mills churning out fertilizer, geode crushers crunching rocks into pebbles, furnaces roaring as they smelt ores into bars—and right on top of the furthest furnace sits a wrapped bundle he's only seen in his (second to) worst nightmares.

He hears your content humming now, somewhere in the main farmhouse. Under normal circumstances, he would've called it cute, but the sound rings mockingly in his ears as he approaches the darkened flowers. A wilted bouquet. Fuck.

"Oh, hey there!" Alex called out as you got closer. He tossed his ever-present gridball into the air. "You here to catch fish again? I think you can find salmon in the river this time of year. At least that's what I heard."

Once you came to a stop in front of him, you shook your head, hands still behind your back. "I'm not fishing today," you said. "I actually wanted to give you something."

"Yeah?" His lips quirked into a grin. Another toss into the air. "Wouldn't happen to be a Salmon Dinner with extra lemon, would it? Those are one of my favorites, but I can never catch any salmon myself. Another egg would be cool, too. I've been adding your weekly deliveries to my workout meals."

You only shifted from one foot to the other, unable to take your eyes off his shoes, and a part of him faltered. You weren't intimidated by him, were you? Ever since you found him crying on the beach, he had been a little more flirtatious than usual, layering on the teasing and showing off. Maybe he came on too strong. Haley always told him that subtlety wasn't his strong suit. The grip on his gridball changed as he tossed it higher.

"You okay there? Did I do something...wait, this is—ow!"

The ball bounced off his head and landed in the grass, but he couldn't care less. He pointed to the bouquet in your hands. Not a regular bouquet, but the Bouquet made to order by Pierre. In a place as small as Pelican Town, there was no need for Pierre to have it in constant stock, so when the signature blooms made the rare appearance, they attracted everyone's eyes.

"...you want to get more serious?" he asked, incredulous.

Something in your expression changed, and you drew the flowers back to your chest. "Oh, sorry, did you not?" You gave him a wide smile, already stepping away. "I must've read the signs wrong. My mistake."

"No! That's not—I mean, you read the signs correctly. I, uh, I feel the same way." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face flush. "So I guess we're together now? Should I be asking you out on a date or something? Or wait, are you asking me out on a date? How does this work?"

You laughed, a genuine sound this time. "We can continue the way we were before."

And so you did, but some things changed for sure. He could hold your hand now as you ran errands around the town, carrying half of the gifts you handed out to the townspeople. He could kiss you goodbye at his door in the evenings, though George cleared his throat loudly every time. Alex remembered making some snide comment about his grandpa, who yelled out a gruff I heard that! before being shushed by Evelyn. When It Howls in the Rain was being shown at the town theater, you bribed him to a screening with the promise of Stardrop Sorbet, but as much as he loved the treat, he would've gone anyway—it was one of his favorite movies with one of his favorite people. Good thing he'd seen it before because he spent most of the time staring at your side profile, wondering when he could finally go pro and have you stare at him on a screen.

Your dog nips at his fingers. He pets it absently. He thought everything was going fine between the two of you. Just yesterday, you came over and had dinner with him and his grandparents. You told them about your mining adventures in the Skull Caverns and, to his horror, showed off your old stitches from Harvey. (George chided your reckless behavior and gave old-timey advice that you nodded along to.) You talked about the new farm you're setting up at Ginger Island—Ancient Fruit wine all year! you told them excitedly. It's a farmer's heaven!—and the Beach Resort you're trying to restore. (Evelyn hummed at your energy, asking rapid-fire questions about the flora there.) You even promised to bring over a season's worth of eggs and leeks as soon as you got your hands on them. (Alex's mind flashed to the old mariner and the mermaid's pendant he could see hanging around your neck in the future.)

So why is a wilted bouquet sitting here, right on top of your furnaces?

No point in guessing when he can just find out the answer right from the source. He takes the flowers and goes to your door, knocking twice. It opens before he has time to second guess his choice.

"Alex! I didn't know you were coming over," you say, beaming at him. He wants to immortalize this version of you: face full of dirt smudges and t-shirt collar soaked through with sweat, yet glowing in your element. Until your eyes drop to his hands. "Oh, that's..."

He sets his jaw. "Can I come in and talk?"

Your expression falters further at his cold tone, but you step back and lead him to the living room. Your dog trots in and settles by the TV, head on its paws, watching with blank eyes. Alex sits in his usual spot and you yours, and suddenly he hates how familiar he is with your space.

It's still silent.

You clear your throat. "So," you start, wiping your palms on your jeans. A nervous tick he knows well. "What did you want to talk about?"

He puts the bouquet on the coffee table between you.

"Right." You pause, likely waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't say anything. "Alex, can you at least be less mean about this? I feel like you owe me that much after all this time together." He says nothing. "Like, tell me what's wrong instead of sitting here stone-faced. Things were okay. Why are you breaking up with me—"

"Why am I breaking up with you?" He barks a laugh. "Baby, I found this outside on your furnace! I'm not going to beg for you to stay, but what the hell is this?"

Your forehead furrows. "What? I wouldn't."

"If it's not yours and it's not mine, then whose is it?"

"I don't know! Alex, I wouldn't—I never even thought about breaking up," you insist. "Why would I lie about that?"

After scrutinizing your stricken expression, his relief comes in waves. He sinks into your couch, hands rubbing at his face.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just—" He laughs again, the sound mostly air. "Yoba, that scared me. If someone left this here as a prank, I'm hunting them down tonight." He lifts his head to look at you and opens his arms. "Can you come over here?"

You wrinkle your nose. "I'm gross."

"You could be playing in mud with your pigs, and I'd still jump in."

With a roll of your eyes, you hop over to curl into his side and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You stink, but so does he after a good workout. Now that he thinks about it, he's still in his gym clothes.

"You scared me, too," you tell him, gaze trained on the table. "Not the best thing to see on a Friday afternoon. But now I want to know whose this is. Did you check it for clues?"

"Didn't bother. Thought it was yours." His arm around your waist tightens as you lean forward. "Does it matter?"

But that doesn't stop you. You have the bouquet in your lap now, prying at the blackened ribbon and wrapping. "Look at this," you say, holding it between two fingers. "The ribbon isn't blue, and Pierre always uses blue. The wrap is pretty much disintegrated, but this corner—he always puts his store brand." You suck in a breath. "Oh, duh! Where did you say you found this?"

"The furnaces right outside by the workbench."

"Okay, so mystery solved. This is mine, but not in the way you think."

He raises an eyebrow. "Explain. Don't say you're breaking up with a secret partner because I don't think I can handle a second shock right now."

"I made a wildflower bouquet to put on Grandpa's grave a few days ago, but I totally forgot where I put it, so I made a second one. This one must've been the one I misplaced."

He blinks. "How the hell did you not notice it since?"

"I came back from Ginger Island yesterday and went to sleep right after dinner! The flowers must've wilted from the furnace heat."

"You," he says slowly, pinching your cheek and ignoring your squeak, "are the absolute worst. I can't believe you nearly broke my heart and it turned out to be a whoopsie."

#stardew x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv x reader #sdv alex x reader #stardew x farmer #stardew valley x farmer #sdv x farmer #sdv alex x farmer #stardew valley scenarios #sdv scenarios #sdv alex scenarios #stardew scenarios #saeri writes;

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vodika-vibes · 8 months ago

Note

Absolutely forgot about your new event! Congrats on the five hundred follower count vod'ika! I may send in a few, but for this oneI'm going with my birth stone, clone husband, and fave season <3

May I have Garnet with Rex in summer, where maybe he spots reader (fem or gn!) looking extremely uncomfortable from unwanted attention (nothing inherentlyuncomfortble in terms of sexually harassing or being violent, but just highly intimidating) when it's dusk? And Rex shoos the person away?

Hero

Summary: Rex’s favorite part of the day is when he’s able to pull away from his work to spend time with his girl. He’s not so impressed, though, when he goes to find her and sees her getting threatened by someone nearly a foot taller than her.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 658

Prompt: Garnet - Protective Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you! I hope you like this story. Protective Love is hard while having a word count limit, lol, but I hope you like it anyway~

This is his favorite part of the day.

His idiots, and he calls them that with all of the love in his heart, have been released to go and get drunk or whatever it is that they do with their free time. And he’s finally able to leave the barracks to go and meet up with his girl.

It’s hot and miserable outside, which means they’ll probably head back to her place to lounge by her pool.

For a moment, just a moment, Rex allows himself to fantasize about his stunning love clad in a blue bikini, while the setting sun paints her with golden highlights and makes her look like an actual goddess deserving of worship.

And then he shoves the thought to the back of his mind, and continues to their meeting spot.

His good mood remains, right up until he gets to the meeting spot and sees his cyare looking very uncomfortable with a man towering over her. She takes half a step back, and then man advances on her, to remain right in her personal space.

Rex scowls as he inserts himself into the situation. No one is allowed to make his cyare uncomfortable. “Sorry I’m late, cyare.” Rex says as he presses himself between his cyare and the stranger.

He feels her hand curl around his bicep, her touch light, “You’re not late, I showed up early.”

Rex lightly pats the hand wrapped around his arm, and he smiles slightly when she drops her hand. And then he focuses his attention on the stranger, who looks deeply, deeply annoyed that Rex interjected.

“Can we help you?” Rex’s voice is mild, but there’s a thread of durasteel and a hint of violence there as well. His cyare likely won’t pick up on it…but the stranger definitely does based on how he grimaces.

“Nah. I was just…” The stranger pauses, “It doesn’t matter.” He turns and stalks away. Rex doesn’t turn to his cyare, though, until he’s sure that no one is going to start anything.

And then he turns to his cyare, and all of the negative emotions he’d been feeling fade away as though they were never there.

“I’m sorry,” She says, as she steps into his space, sliding into his welcoming arms, “I didn’t mean for you to have to get involved.”

“Hey,” He rests his chin on her head, “It’s my genuine pleasure to be able to protect you, cyare.”

She hums softly, “You shouldn’t have to protect me. I should be safe here.”

“Well, until you are, you have me to be your sword and shield.”

A laugh falls from his cyare, “Oh, when did you become charming, Rex?” She asks as she pulls away to look up at him, fondness in her gaze.

Rex’s face heats, “Well…you know…Jesse-”

She laughs again, “You don’t have to change yourself for me, Rex. I love you just as you are. Awkwardness and all.” She takes his hand in hers, “Now, let’s go home. It’s hot.”

“We’re going swimming?” He asks, maybe more than a little hopeful.

She grins and nods, “I bought us matching swimsuits. They were on sale.”

“What kind of swimsuits?” Rex asks as he falls into step with her.

“For you?”

“For you.”

She giggles and and moves so she’s walking backwards in front of him, one finger coming out to lightly tap his nose, “It’s a secret~”

“That means it’s a bikini, right?” Rex asks, not even bothering to hide the direction his thoughts have gone.

“It means it’s a secret.” She leans in, “But I promise you’ll like it.”

“Cyar’ika. You could walk around in a burlap sack, and I’d still like it.” He pauses, “Or ribbons-”

“Really? Ribbons?”

He smiles innocently, “If you want.”

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Fives and Jesse.”

“Yeah, but they give the best ideas.”

She shakes her head with a laugh, “Come on, Rex. Let’s go home.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika vibes 500 followers celebration #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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xpao-bearx · 2 years ago

Text

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

NOTES: I literally put my whole heart and pussy into the previous part and it's just so THRILLING to see all the immense love and support!! 🥺❤️❤️❤️

I'm reeeally hoping y'all will like this part, too! Steven has an extremely special place in my heart, but this time we're shifting focus and giving our lovably murderous Moon Boy JAKE his time to shine!! \(^o^)/

Now as we all know, Jake unfortunately hasn't had a lot of screen time yet. I also watched Moon Knight for the third time and besides his confirmed appearance in the post-credits, there are some other more subtle scenes that I'm PRETTY sure Jake was in and it was a lot of fun for me to think so and obsess over!

But I digress! Anywhore, as I was saying, since Jake hasn't been on a lot the way I write him is PURELY made up. Of course, I try my best to capture the vibes I personally get from him, but until Season 2 drops (because I am NOT giving up on that) we don't know for certain what his personality's actually like (and I haven't read the comics please don't shoot me). It was a little challenging, but I really enjoyed getting to explore Jake and his perspective quite a bit! Though he ended up being a bit sadder than I intended CUZ THIS BOI JUST NEEDS AND DESERVES A WHOLE LOTTA LOVIN'❣️

Furthermore, I am not a Spanish speaker. Jake obviously is and I wanna stay as true as possible to the character by having him speak some (*cough* S E X Y *cough*) Spanish throughout, but if I made any mistakes at all then please kindly correct me as I mainly just use Google Translate and/or search up Spanish terms! For example, I was made aware that "ese" means "that" in Spanish. However, it's also Spanish slang for "dude", "man", etc. and I just find it fitting for Jake to call the boys that 😅

Also, Jake is...rough 😳 Don't worry, he loves and cares about you a LOT, but this is a fair WARNING in case you're not into that! And this part got pretty long, IDK I probs blacked out somewhere in the middle and this is le horny result~

Additionally, do y'all think the relationship between reader x Steven/the boys is going too fast? I really try to make it as natural as possible, but hey this is only fiction after all and I think Steven, for one, falls in love FAST since in the show he was already simping for Layla the first time they met 😂 But I can't judge Steven cuz I'd be the same if I ever met Oscar Isaac I mean, I'm already simping now but YOU GET IT

And a lil funny coincidoink, Like A Virgin came on the radio which I guess was your guys' universal push for me to continue this ASAP!

I truly am sorry for the wait!! Life is hard but I simp harder xD

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland @the-ginger-draws @bitchyglitterfox @readingfan @spidey-3 @minigirl87 @wandasupremacy @simba-will-live-on @wavychelle @thepowerthismanhasoverme @blackholegladiator @kittytiddywinks @literalfkinsimp @valen-yamyam16 @shaunalouie @howellatme @aleat0ri0 @bean-is-reading @indigxjunipxr

Part 4: Gonna give you all my love, boy

Your chest rose and fell with each soft, blissful snore. Your face void of any burden, open and peaceful; plump lips parted slightly, looking so kissable. And that's exactly what Steven did, lonely lips descending to meet yours--his slumbering goddess.

An insatiable part of him longed for you to awaken, to spend more time fumbling around in the sheets until sunrise. But he knew, more than anyone else, that sleep was important. And he had no doubt that after all the...unique events that progressed your relationship, you deserved all the rest you can get.

Like the proper gentleman he was, he had cleaned you up before snuggling in bed together until dreams inevitably consumed you. And now here you were, using one of his arms that he can't feel anymore as your pillow and your bodies exchanging heat.

Then his mouth lowered, down your chin, to your throat, and to the delicate dip between your neck and shoulder. Planting butterfly kisses on your skin, lips tracing and eyes memorizing every perfect imperfection that dotted your body like constellations.

He noticed your breathing slowly growing uneven, your nipples salaciously peaking through your tank top. He knew he had to stop. He had to, but...

He lifted his free hand, inching towards your breasts before freezing, clenching into a tight fist that had his nails digging into his palm.

His cheeks bloomed red, pulling away and laying on his back as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. What the fuck was he doing?

"Jake, mate... I know you're there, might as well say something, yeah?" Steven whispered.

'Your senses are improving, ese.' Jake snickered. 'Is that why you stopped? No need to be shy, it's just the same as watching porn.'

Steven turned redder, clearing his throat. "Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Silence greeted him. Steven waited patiently, giving his alter all the time he needed. As rough around the edges as they may be, the boys all cared about each other and Steven knew that all Jake needed--deserved--was time. Hell, he and Marc didn't even know Jake existed for a while until he finally felt comfortable enough to reveal himself.

'Nah, ese.' Jake snorted, though his voice held a certain heaviness to it. 'She's all yours. You deserve her, Steven.'

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

'Don't think your little cariño would appreciate it so much that you're wanting to hand her off to some other asshole.' Jake scoffed.

"I'm not 'handing her off', you git. I wanna...share." Steven mumbled the latter, gulping thickly.

'Steven...' Jake sighed, but Steven sensed intrigue in his tone. 'I don't know what the fuck you expect from this talk, ese. We only share the same body, that's it.'

"You're lying and you know it. Two months working with Y/N, I never said anything, but I knew you were always there. This damn body isn't the only thing we share, 'cause I know your feelings are just the same as mine."

It was then that you mewled softly, shifting and wrapping an arm around Steven's waist and cuddling close to his side with a content little smile on your lips as you slept.

Steven melted and he felt Jake do so, too.

"I'm not giving you an out, mate." Steven chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'm absolutely buggered and so are you."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Steven, that absolute fucking puta.

As soon as Jake opened his eyes, dread filled him. Slowly turning his head and seeing your back to him, he knew Steven gave up control at some point and forced Jake to come out from the shadows.

He's tried multiple times to drag that pendejo back out, but Steven has obviously put up a block between them. Jake sighed frustratedly, his gaze lingering on you once more.

His heart ached. And fuck it hurts.

He wasn't Steven.

He did not deserve you.

He was dirty--rotten. He was only good for causing pain; even the ways in which he protected the boys were brutal, inhumane.

And he loved the chaos. Thrived in it.

When Steven met you for the first time, two months ago, that was what Jake intended to cause as well. Pain. Heartbreak.

Nothing more than another pretty notch to add to his belt.

But you...surprised him. You actually cared about Steven, gave him basic human respect and the time of day when no one else did and just fucking listened. Accepted him with open arms and such a kind, blinding smile. And pretty soon, Jake yearned for that, too. From you. Just you.

You didn't even know he existed--you didn't fucking care about him--and yet you smashed his glass heart into a thousand pieces, leaving him to find the sharpest shard and continuously stab himself as punishment.

That's what he deserved. Not you.

But oh... You looked so cold. Why were you so far away? What the hell were you thinking, pulling away from him?

Like a lion stalking its prey, Jake crawled towards you until he was on top of you. His dark eyes trailed down your sleeping form, so beautiful, so vulnerable. He didn't realize his hand was shaking slightly as it reached up to caress your face, breath hitching as his thumb glided across your bottom lip before slowly slipping it inside your mouth.

He watched, completely entranced, as your saliva coated his thumb and the way in which you squirmed so that you were now laying on your back, facing him. You were still asleep, though your brows creased together and your breathing grew shallow.

What were you dreaming about, Jake wondered? Were you dreaming about last night? Steven didn't feel him then, but Jake was there and it was the best torture he's ever endured.

He can make you feel good--better. And if there was any room in your heart (and legs) for him, he'd more than happily prove it to you.

But you were so kind, so sweet... Surely you'd accept him, too, right?

Surely you'd relieve him of his huge fucking hard-on, right?

He found himself lowering, lowering, lowering--then stopped just as his lips were about to meet yours.

No...

You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve him.

As if he was just burnt, he sprang away from you and sat at the foot of the bed, keeping as much distance as possible. His head hung low, hands scrubbing his face in frustration before turning into self-loathing slaps.

He quickly got a hold of himself, lest you have a cruel awakening to him. Not Steven.

He looked over his shoulder. You really did look cold. He unchained the ankle restraint then stood up, walking over to your side and tucking the blanket over your unfairly scantily clad body.

God... How he wished he was the one keeping you warm.

He then shook his head, glancing towards the wall clock. 5:40 a.m.

He can sneak out and do some business for Khonshu. And by the time he returns, hopefully Steven does, too.

He has to.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You rolled over in bed, expecting to cuddle up next to something much more solid than a pillow. Your brows furrowed, a hand flying out to pat the bed and not finding what--who--it was seeking.

Your eyes snapped open and you bolted upright. You looked around in a frenzy, eyes still bleary with sleep and finding the apartment completely empty.

You then noticed the time on the wall clock. 7:20 a.m.

You were off work today, but you weren't sure if Steven had a shift. But even if he did, it was still too early for the museum to open.

So...

Where the hell was Steven?

He couldn't have ditched you...could he? No, that wasn't possible, this was his flat.

But wait... What if this was his subtle way of telling you to get lost? That he didn't want to see you still here when he comes back from wherever the fuck he went to?

You overstayed your welcome, didn't you? This was what it was about, isn't it? This was all your fault, right?

You were on the verge of hyperventilating when, at the corner of your eye, you spotted a bright yellow sticky note on top of the books on the bedside table. You quickly ripped it off, reading the messy, rushed handwriting.

Don't know when I'll be back. Just relax. Food for you is in the kitchen, amor.

You blinked away tears you didn't realize were forming once, twice, then bursted into laughter.

"Fuck, seriously, what is wrong with me?" You berated yourself, still laughing.

This was Steven. Of course he would never abandon you, and you would never abandon him.

He proved it to you, after all. The memories of last night terrorizing your brain once more, making you blush like a virgin (which you were--for now).

You wanted to prove yourself to him, too. And you're sure you'll think of something, but at the moment you became distracted as your eyes landed on Steven's black sweatshirt sprawled carelessly across the floor.

You put on your glasses then hopped off of the bed and picked up the sweatshirt, tugging it on and letting out a giggle as it drooped over your thighs, turning the sleeves into little hand mittens and your body and heart just feeling so warm.

You ambled over to the kitchen, seeing a plate of slightly burnt toast and scrambled eggs clumsily covered in plastic wrap on the small dining table. You chuckled softly, taking the plastic off before sitting down and having breakfast.

As you chewed, once again your brain couldn't help but wander off.

It was only a little thing. Such a stupid thing, really. But still, it just would not stop nagging you.

Amor. It was French for 'love'.

But... Steven didn't spell it with a U. It was supposed to be amour.

Amor, no U, was the Spanish spelling. And Steven, who seemed fluent in French, should know that.

But people make mistakes, and who were you to judge such a minuscule, silly mistake?

Before you could entertain yourself by ruminating over such nonsense some more, your ears perked up when you heard the lock click and the door opening and shutting close. You kept quiet, watching as Steven slowly trudged in.

He was wearing a flat cap and a trench coat, and from your spot in the kitchen he hasn't noticed you yet. But he looked...different.

You couldn't quite explain it, but he seemed...tense. On edge. An air of agitation surrounding him, stiff in his movements yet carrying a sense of confidence at the same time.

Wild.

You then swallowed, standing up from your chair and silently making your way over to Steven with his back turned to you as he busied himself with stripping off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling him jolt. But before he could react, you spoke up.

"I missed you..." You murmured, embracing him more tightly as you pressed your cheek to his back. "Don't do that again, please. At least wake me up if you're leaving."

Steven didn't say anything, completely rigid and gloved hands balled into tight fists.

Then it clicked.

"You're not Steven...are you?"

His shoulders jerked, and you pulled your face away to look up at him. But you never removed your arms, keeping them in place around his waist.

Then his shoulders drooped, hearing him take a sharp intake of breath before ever so slowly turning his head over his shoulder.

"Caught red-handed." His lips curled up into a smirk, dark eyes gleaming down at you. "You're much more observant than I thought, princesa."

Your breath hitched, mouth agape and eyes blown wide as you gawked at him. You didn't know what to feel. Well, there was definitely excitement, but you weren't sure if it was appropriate for you to feel such a way.

Regardless, you were glad Steven was open and honest with you from the get-go. You knew, at some point, it was inevitable that you'd meet the two other men he's mentioned. So, you weren't too taken aback to be experiencing this right now.

"Judging from your accent and what you called me just now... You must be Jake?" You queried, cocking your head to the side as you stared up at him. Funny, he shared the exact same body as Steven, but he was still...different. The way he held himself, the little quirk to his lips, the look in his eyes--it was all very distinct.

"Don't see why you gotta keep asking me questions, princesa. Seems like ya got it all figured out." Jake scoffed, amusement in his tone.

"Well... You certainly made an...impression when you asked me out." You spoke slowly, carefully, as if not daring to spook some wild animal. You wanted Jake to feel safe, welcomed; because it felt like Jake hasn't at all expected to be here right now, but you wanted to let him know that you didn't mind him. You were happy to be meeting him.

But Jake took it the wrong way. He read your body language as aloof, like you were just trying to be polite. And why wouldn't you be? You were naturally kind, but he knew better.

He was absolutely not supposed to be here. He was never supposed to meet you, never planned to. After all, you preferred Steven.

...Didn't you?

His jaw ticked, his hands untangling your arms around his waist before he spun on his heel to fully face you. You gasped as he did, paling at the sight of blood on his shirt.

"What happened?!" You panicked, your hands immediately touching his body, eyes frantically searching for any injuries. "Did someone hurt you?! Oh my god, who did this to you?!"

"It's not my blood."

You froze, a chill coursing through your veins. Slowly, your head tilted up, meeting his gaze. It was much darker than before, flecks of savagery brewing within. And yet, you also saw...loneliness.

Longing.

"Are you scared, Y/N?"

You held your breath, his voice cracking as he uttered your name for the first time. It was a simple question that had a painfully simple answer.

"I am."

Jake shut his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a wavering breath.

He fucking knew it.

"Jake..." His eyes snapped open at your voice, so soft, so unexpectedly calm. "Will you...hurt me?"

"I would never." He whispered--promised--holding your gaze sincerely. "I couldn't."

"I'm scared of the...things you can do, Jake." You admitted, noticing his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. His gaze fell to the floor, but you reached up, gently cupping the side of his face. "But...I'm not scared of you."

Jake met your eyes once more, his hardened expression softening as he sighed, nuzzling into your comforting hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt...safe. He was not one of Khonshu's pawns, he was not Steven or Marc's ruthless protector, he was simply...

Jake Lockley.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured, trembling hand reaching out and caressing your cheek; tenderly, fondly, lovingly. "I...was never supposed to meet you. I was fine watching you quietly. But last night, Steven said he wanted us to meet. For me to be a...part of what you have with him."

A deafening silence rang in your ears. Jake watched you with those intense, soulful eyes, brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he waited with bated breath for your reaction. Any reaction.

"Jake..." You have no idea how you even managed to speak, your volatile heartbeat replacing the silence. "Take a shower first, we'll talk after."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Water dripped from Jake's hair, his hands pressed against the wall with his head tilted down as he watched the pristine white tiles of the shower's floor stain red.

This was an all too familiar situation for him. Washing off blood that didn't belong to him, his body getting cleaned though never his damned soul. But it never bothered him before...until now.

He knew there was a chance you'd be awake when he returned, but he figured that he can just pretend to be Steven at least until that idiot takes control of the body again. Jake's done it convincingly enough a few times before back when Steven and Marc were still unaware of his existence, acting as one of them whenever something triggered them and he suddenly had to front.

But when you hugged him, he just...froze. It felt as if he was struck by lightning because this was real--you were real. Your heart-wrenching kindness and beauty were all directed towards him, and he was no longer just a pathetic fly on the wall through Steven's eyes.

But how could he be so fucking dumb? He never should've shown himself, he should've stayed away from the apartment even if it took all day and just let Steven deal with the consequences. And yet...he came back.

Because, the absolute truth is, he wanted to meet you. At his very core, he was a selfish bastard who wanted to be with you, no matter the punishment inflicted on him--he inflicts on himself.

But was he really being selfish?

As drastically different as they were, Steven and Marc managed to control their own separate lives. Steven had his job that he despised, but also the comfort of regularly getting a paycheck that provided for his daily needs. Marc was Khonshu's (main) Avatar and as draining as it was, he could still unwind after a long day with a pack of beer and a Chicago Cubs game playing on TV.

And then, of course, there were Moon Knight and Mr. Knight that ultimately tied them together.

But what about Jake? Was he nothing more than a punching bag for Marc and Steven, only seizing command and handling whatever shitshow they got themselves into that they were too weak to finish?

Jake knew that was his job--his purpose. And honestly, it was okay. He cared about the boys, and keeping them safe meant the same for him as well.

...Until you came along. And for the first fucking time, he actually wanted something. Yearned for someone. Just for himself, and not because of anyone else's expectations or demands of him.

He didn't realize it until you came crashing into Steven's--and his--life like some fucking meteorite, but he was empty. And on the extremely rare occasions that Jake was entitled to the body all for himself, he grew tired of being tired from aimlessly hopping bar to bar. Nearly wiping all his fucking memories out with heavy drinks and the need--the desperation--to forget about the problems he deliberately ignores, hides, even for one single measly night through fucking some random stranger he didn't and won't ever care about.

But you weren't a stranger, that was perfectly clear. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months; and here you were now, looking all cute--tempting--wearing Steven's sweatshirt, eating breakfast in his home, as his girlfriend.

Steven's girlfriend. Not Jake's girlfriend.

"Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Steven's words from last night echoed in Jake's head, taunting him. And the ridiculous proposition that followed afterwards, of the two of them sharing you.

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

And maybe, just maybe...Steven's right.

Maybe Jake did deserve you.

But did you deserve him?

"What's got you looking all emo?" Jake's head abruptly whipped around, seeing you with one hand holding the shower curtain open while the other clutched onto a towel covering your body.

Your naked body.

Jake's mouth went dry, completely paralyzed. All he could do was let his eyes scan you from head to toe, undressing you in his mind. He's already seen you last night and he thought he'd be fine just basking you in from Steven's point of view, but oh...he thought dead wrong.

Because now he really wanted to touch you. Feel you. Make you come undone, all because of him. All for him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question came out sharper than he intended it to, eyes narrowing as he watched your gaze drop, shifting on your feet uncertainly along with the tantalizing way you bit your lip.

You seemed to be engaging in a silent war with yourself before you shook your head, straightening up as you dared to meet his eyes and slowly dropped the towel to the floor.

"I told Steven this before, but I prefer to get things over with." You smiled a bit sheepishly, stepping into the shower; the warm drizzle of water helped to thaw the ice cold sensation anxiety gripped you with. "I'm a very impatient woman, Mr. Lockley."

"And you think jumping into the shower completely naked with a man you barely know is the answer to your impatience, señorita?" Jake arched a brow, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, it's not like I can get into the shower with clothes on, right? That's just fucking stupid." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "Besides... It's because I want to get to know you that I'm here."

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, princesa." Jake murmured, his smirk instantly vanishing; that furrowed brows, clenched jaw sternness once more overtaking his striking features as he regarded you. "I'm not your sweet, sensitive little boyfriend. I'm not Steven." He practically hissed out the name, though there was more sadness to it than venom.

"This isn't a game to me, Jake." You stated firmly, standing your ground as you held your chin high and levelled your gaze with his. "None of this is. I take Steven very seriously--I take our relationship very seriously." You paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "And I know, maybe I'm moving too fast, and I totally understand your doubts about this--about me. But I'm not a fucking dumbass. I know you're not Steven and I like you, anyway."

Jake was rarely speechless, but even as his mouth parted to say something--anything--nothing came out. He felt something fall down his cheek, and he wasn't too sure if it was water or the strange liquid that suddenly made his vision all blurry.

But he didn't have much time to ponder on it when your hand gently pressed against his cheek, your eyes kind and full of adoration, the same adoration you always bless Steven with and something Jake believed was only a far-off miracle for him.

"Y/N..." He choked out, glossy dark eyes intently set on you. "I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster, Jake." You were quick to counter, taking a step closer, now being chest to chest with Jake. "You're a part of Steven, and anything--anyone--that's a part of him is beautiful. And you sure as hell deserve to live your own life, too. And, well, if you'll have me..." You blushed, looking down. "...I would really, really like to get to know you better, Jake Lockley."

Silence smothered you, wrapping its invisible claws around your neck, and you now fully understood what people meant when they say something takes forever. You thought it would be easier and much less frightening if the ground actually opened up and swallowed you whole, but Jake finally put you out of your misery, his hand turning off the shower and a low chuckle bubbling out of him.

"Well... Damn." He smirked, cocking his head down at you, though his smug demeanour couldn't mask the rosiness that dusted his cheeks. "You really do like me and Steven, huh, querida? Or maybe it's just your boobs up against me that's convincing me."

"Well, if it's helping you to believe me, then I'm not complaining." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts against him. Both of your breaths stuttered at the close, intimate contact, and you whimpered as his hands landed on your hips, callused fingers squeezing your soft flesh.

"Dios mío..." He growled lowly, his hands slowly, reverently travelling up the curves of your body, leaving a burning wake, before dipping once more and giving your ass a hard smack.

"Ah..!" You gasped, lurching forward, your face bumping against his solid chest. You felt his chest vibrate as a deep laugh rumbled out of him, one hand fisting your hair and pulling your head back.

"I ain't lying when I said I'm not your sweet, sensitive boyfriend." There was mania in his eyes, baring shiny white teeth as he grinned widely at you; like a shark who's smelled blood--your blood--from a mile away, he's set his target and can't be satisfied by anything, anyone else. "Then again, if you could see Steven's thoughts like I can, 'sweet and sensitive' aren't completely accurate for him."

You gulped, but not from fear. You squeezed your thighs together, pupils dilating as you stared up at Jake. "I-I don't mind if you or Steven aren't sweet and sensitive. I wanna be treated nice, but there are plenty of ways 'nice' can be translated to..." You placed a hand on his abs, lips parting as you traced along his taut muscles, looking like some fucking Greek sculpture--a god--with the way his wet body shimmered a divine bronze. "Don't you think so...Papi?"

With no warning, you felt the air get knocked out of you as his lips collided with yours, attacking you; tongues intertwining with a clash of teeth, the moist smack of your lips harmonizing with the vulgar moans Jake drew out of you.

You felt Jake's neediness, the desperation underlying his roughness--as if this was not just the first, but the only time he'd get to kiss you and have you for himself.

As if you'd ever allow for this to be the only time.

Your hands fell to his shoulders, nails breaking his skin and marking him with crescent indents. He groaned as you did, kissing you with even more fervour, fiery passion never ceasing as you both chased after that hellish ecstasy; seizing, bruising, suffocating you.

More, more, more. Giving and taking, taking, taking.

You just could never have enough, clueless as to where you started and Jake ended, Jake's tongue practically down your throat now. You know you needed air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but your body refused.

If this was how you died, then you'd die an elated woman.

But Jake suddenly pulled away from you, making you whine loudly. Your hands pawed at his chest, tears springing to your eyes and your ears couldn't even register the pitiful pleas that tumbled out of your mouth for more, more, more.

"You're such a fucking slut, aren't you, mi amor?" Jake snickered, one hand wrapping around your neck, thumb stroking the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to feel as if your head was floating. "Steven always saw you as this pure, innocent angel. But you're not, aren't you? You wanna be corrupted, don't you? You wanna be my pretty little devil, slut?"

"I'll be anything for you, Papi." You replied breathlessly, tears staining your scarlet cheeks. "Just be my everything."

"I'll be whatever--do whatever--for you, mi vida." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, his earnesty and sweetness cloying. His other hand caressed your face before he leaned down, his tongue licking away your salty tears, a reprieve from the rapturous flames that engulfed him. "Now... What do you want Papi to do?" He purred, smirking wolfishly down at you. "You want me to fuck you? Spread your little virgin pussy, fill you up with my cock? Wanna see how much you can take, cariño. Take all my cum, don't waste a single fucking drop."

As tempting as his filthy words were, as much as you wanted to, you remembered how Steven refused to have sex with you last night. Of his promise that he'll make love to you another time, when he was better prepared with condoms. And fuck, you wanted him--them--so badly. Steven and Jake. But you respected Steven and his decision, and you did also want for your lovemaking to be special.

"Can I taste your cock, Papi?" You asked, biting your lip as you met Jake's gaze shyly. You felt like a mouse and he was the lion, yet you held the power in whatever was going to happen. "I-I promise I'll take it all... Take all your cum, like a good girl."

Jake knew that you chose not to have sex with him out of respect for Steven, and that only made him love you more. He felt a pang in his heart and a smile tugged up the corners of his lips, eyes locking with yours, full of tenderness and affection.

Right then and there, he knew that you were "the one". For him and Steven.

"Get on your knees like a good fucking girl, then." He breathed, and you didn't hesitate as you instantly dropped to your knees, breasts jiggling slightly as you did. Your eyes widened as his cock stood proudly, mere inches away from your face.

"I...I'm sorry if I'm...bad." Your voice came out as a squeak, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "I-I've never done this before!"

"You better have not or else I'll hunt down and kill all the fuckers you've ever been with." He barked out a laugh, but his eyes were dark and serious.

Murder was not something Jake Lockley ever joked about, after all.

Strangely enough, you found his possessiveness...sexy. Which only meant that Jake was already corrupting you.

But was that really such a bad thing?

You shook your head, focusing on the cock--erm, task--at hand. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, hearing Jake breathe sharply through his nose as you did. You licked your lips as you watched the pre-cum drip out of the tip, so curious, so transfixed like a moth to a flame.

Your tongue then darted out, experimentally licking the milky fluid. Jake threw his head back with a guttural groan; you've barely even started, and it made you fucking giddy that he reacted like this.

"Jake..." You murmured, giggling softly. You peered up at him through your long lashes, flashing him a dazzling smile. "You're so beautiful, Jake."

"That ain't something you should call a man, mi vida." Jake scoffed, but the crimson tint on his cheeks have spread like wildfire to the tips of his ears and neck. "Especially not when you're the beautiful one."

"Going soft on me now, Jakey?" You teased lightheartedly, slowly beginning to stroke his length.

Jake's breath hitched, brows furrowing as he watched you intently, attentively. "You really are a little devil, Y/N." He chuckled deeply, and you knew that meant trouble. "You think I'm going soft? Looks like you really have a lot you need to know about me."

Like before, his hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back and making you look up at him. "Open up, slut." And you did, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. You flinched slightly as his cock hit your tongue, his other hand grabbing his member and moving it around on your tongue, painting it white.

"Now you're gonna be a good cocksucker, got it?" He grinned down devilishly at you, eyes twinkling with sheer, wicked glee. "You're gonna make Papi cum, like the good whore that you are."

You nodded hastily, eagerly. And you just couldn't fucking take it anymore, jostling forward and burying his cock in your wet, hot mouth.

"That's. Fucking. It." Jake hissed, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, you began to bob your head, your mouth accommodating his size. You briefly wondered how anyone could ever even compare this to a banana or a popsicle stick; it was much bigger and your jaw started to hurt, which Jake quickly noticed as you tensed.

"Hey, relax." He cooed, reaching down to tenderly wipe away the tears you didn't realize were flowing down your cheeks. "Easy, Y/N. Relax your mouth, loosen up your throat... Fuck, yeah, that's it. Keep going, hermosa."

With newfound confidence and assurance, you gradually increased your pace. You hollowed your cheeks, your tongue sliding along the underside of his cock with each rhythmic bop of your head. Up, down, up, down--Jake's sinful groans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, never breaking eye contact as you burned all of him into memory.

Then your surprised gasp was muffled as his foot pressed against your clit, only offering you a cocky smirk in return.

He began to move his foot, his toes budging your clit and stroking along your pussy. You moaned around his cock, grinding against his foot for more friction. Then his other hand grabbed onto your hair, both of his hands now pushing and pulling your head up, down, up, down--drool spilling down the sides of your mouth, resisting the urge to gag as the tip of Jake's cock pounded your throat, your hands floundering to his thighs as you clung on for dear life.

"Fuck, look at you... Una putita tan bonita solo para mí." He laughed, the thrusts of his hips growing fiercer, more rabid as he mercilessly fucked your throat. "Wanna taste me, mi vida? Think you've earned it?"

All you could do was nod, nod, nod--looking up at him pleadingly as you continued to desperately grind yourself against his foot, your own orgasm fast approaching.

Jake's jeering laughter soon stuttered into a heavy, gasping moan; his eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, hitting the wall. You felt his cock twitch, releasing his seed, shooting down your throat and his balls slamming against your chin.

Your own release coated Jake's foot, your entire body shuddering from the intensity of it all and coughing as Jake finally withdrew his cock out of your mouth. But you didn't have time to revel in the afterglow as Jake's hand wrapped around your neck once more, dragging you up and crashing his lips with yours. You swapped spit and cum, but neither of you cared; the two of you groping, squeezing, clinging onto each other any which way your needy hands could fumble.

You didn't keep track anymore of who pulled away first, laughter ringing in your ears as you both grinned at each other; spent, happy.

The dawn of something new, exciting, promising shining between the two of you.

Wordlessly, Jake turned on the shower again. Then he grabbed the soap, his hands gliding along your smooth skin, his lips attaching to the crook of your neck where he could see the faint pinpricks of his handprint slowly materializing.

"Did I hurt you, mi vida?" As rough of a lover as Jake was, none of his pleasure mattered if you didn't enjoy yourself.

"A little bit." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. "But it's okay. I...liked it." You blushed furiously.

"Fuck..." He grumbled, pulling away and looking very much like a kicked puppy, something that you thought only Steven was a pro at. "As cute as you are blushing like that, princesa, I'm so fucking sorry. I know I should know when to stop, when to be gentle...but those are not really what I'm good at." His eyes drifted down, and you can tell that he had a lot more to say. A lot more to regret. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"I forgive you, Jake. Now please... Stop beating yourself up, okay?" You cupped his face, pecking his nose and meeting his gaze. "I'm not lying when I said I liked it, but don't blame yourself too much. I also should've done something, spoken up if it was too painful for me." Your fingers ran through his hair, smiling softly, lovingly at him. "All of this is new for me--for us. But it's okay, 'cause we can learn together, yeah? And if you'd like, we can come up with a safe word if things get too rough."

Jake hesitated, wondering if you were really telling the truth and not just trying to comfort him. But one look at your sweet, loving smile was more than enough for his worries and doubts to fade away, his own smile gracing his lips and his hands holding your own that were so gently, kindly cupping his face.

"I think that would be great. Any idea what the safe word should be?"

"I was thinking 'Khonshu'." Your answer made Jake snort before he bursted into laughter, you joining shortly after.

"Mi vida, if you say that bastardo's name while we're fucking, you really are gonna make me go soft." He chuckled, pinching your cheek and kissing your forehead.

"Fine, fine! Clearly coming up with a safe word is what I'm not good at. Let's figure it out together." You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling and kissing his cheek. "Anyway, I'll head out first. But don't take too long or else I'll jump in the shower with you again and for the sake of Steven's water expenses, you do not want that happening."

"On one condition, señorita. You have to wear my clothes when you get out, not Steven's." He hummed to which you laughed and nodded, but just as you were about to step out of the shower, Jake suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest.

He leaned down to your ear, voice a low purr as he spoke; like it was a secret, a sacred oath between only the two of you.

"El amor de mi vida, mi salvavidas... Nunca te dejaré ir."

Your lips curled up into a smile, your heart swelling achingly within your chest. You turned around and leaned up on your tiptoes, your lips melting perfectly together with Jake's, becoming one.

"I love you, Jake Lockley." You whispered, sealing your oath. "Now... Don't keep me waiting. You know I'm an impatient woman."

Jake watched with a dumb, lovestruck grin as you pulled away giggling, finally stepping out of the shower and closing the bathroom door behind you. And as soon as you were gone, Jake piped up to the other occupant in the bathroom.

"Steven, ese... I know you're there, might as well say something, huh?"

'Bloody HELL, mate...' Steven's words stumbled out in a rushed, breathless breath. 'That was MENTAL.'

"You're welcome for the free show, ese." Jake chuckled, standing under the spray of the shower as he washed himself off.

Although Jake couldn't see Steven, he knew that the poor, flustered English man was having a damn heart attack at this very moment.

'That was...that was...' Steven was completely at a loss for words, making Jake smirk.

"The hottest fucking thing you've ever seen? Yeah, I know. Y/N's our sexy girlfriend, after all." Jake turned off the shower, hopping out and drying himself off with a towel. "You're right, by the way. We're both absolutely fucked."

'I'm just glad it all worked out, mate.' Steven replied, relief and happiness flooding his voice. 'You deserve her. WE deserve her. It's just...' He trailed off, sighing deeply. 'Now that I think about it, I'm worried about Marc.'

"Fuck Marc." Jake snapped, his eyes settling on the mirror, Steven's reflection staring back at him with an anxious crease between his brows and lips downturned. "We deserve to live our own lives, too, Steven. That cabrón's just gonna have to deal with it."

And deal with it, Marc will. But...

You'll have to deal with Marc, too.

955 notes · View notes

caramel1mochi · 2 months ago

Text

One Hazy Winter [Iso x F! Reader] [End]

[ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 ]

Genre: Angst, fluff ‎

Words: 3k ‎

Synopsis: One winter before his disappearance, you told your boyfriend Yu about a question you’ve had for so long; one even he could hardly respond to. It took many more hopeless winters for you to finally have your answer.‎

Note: Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked.

We're done with Iso!! As per the vote, I'm moving on to Yoru once everything's ready. And man is he as painful to write as I remember haha

‎

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Spring, present day.

ㅤㅤ

It took you a long while to decide on whether that was one of the worst or best months of your life.

On one hand, you came back with a quarter of the harvest you were supposed to get, and you had to wait for a while until your lemon trees would bear fruit once more. That, and working with only thirteen lemons turned out to be much more difficult than you thought when it comes to baking.

And on the other hand, it was fun attempting to come up with workarounds with Ying. That, and you woke up the next morning with a new sensation that wrapped around you like a clingy lover. And it wasn't anything like the miserable pessimism you hauled around, or like the apathy that…

No, no. It was apathy.

But a more positive kind of apathy. One that beckoned you to come to terms with many dilemmas in your mind. One of them being that winter was just... winter. A season. And like every other season, it had its ups and downs. It wasn't some omnipresent being out to get you, or whatever.

And quite frankly, this apathy was the best feeling you've ever had in a long... well, in your entire life. You woke up looking forward to the day, with a desire to actually get things going.

And that's exactly what you did.

You spent the past three months selling those plants back in your apartment at that nursery, you made friends with that lady who recommended you do such a thing, and now you were back at Yu’s house to check in on your growing orange trees. Heck, Yu’s neighbours even started greeting you whenever you came by.

They definitely saw you carrying the baskets of fruit and wanted some. Maybe you should use this wealthy neighbourhood to your advantage, you mused.

ㅤ

Ying called you earlier and mentioned discussing the state of her café with you since she had ‘more important matters to get to’. And you didn’t really mind, despite still being a mere barista, but she said she’d discuss the details by afternoon… But the location? Yeah, she promised she’d get back to you on that after she’d decided.

You moved down the short corridor, your eyes taking a moment to adjust to the strong rays that poured through the windows of the doors. The darkness around you did not help ease the pain of such a bright light. But even then, you wrapped your free hand around the handle and forced the door open, allowing the brightness to finally balance itself out.

You noticed something yellow out of the corner of your eye. And you would’ve dismissed it if you hadn’t turned to look at what it was. It was… inside the basket. There was one Meyer lemon, probably from that harvest months ago that the two of you missed. It kind of made sense that you’d forget it. You haven’t really visited this house after that day, not with the ongoing streak of snowstorms. And, you know, Ying’s persistence on keeping you safe.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of a nearby mosquito. And immediately, you dropped the watering can and crushed the bug, instantly killing it. Now that you considered it, the one good thing about winter was the lack of annoying insects. That, and the fact it helped plants rejuvenate after a harvest, and that it kept earth’s temperature in check, and…

No, nevermind. You didn’t want to be warming up to winter. Pun intended.

You moved back towards your growing orange trees and observed their shape for a moment. And like the row of lemon trees right behind them, they looked as otherworldly as they were. The white flowers on it looked even prettier under the sunlight’s strong glare. Much prettier than in the winter, but they both had their charm. Super photogenic.

Just as you grabbed the watering can up from the ground, your phone vibrated with an embarrassingly loud ringtone, and you pulled it out of your pocket only to discover that Ying was calling. At the worst time as well, you thought as you answered and held up the device to your ear.

ㅤ

"Hi."

ㅤ

"Y/N, I've decided!"

ㅤ

Her voice took you by surprise more than the ensemble of loud chirping birds around you.

ㅤ

"Decided?"

ㅤ

"We're going to meet up on the bridge. Do you remember it?"

ㅤ

You kept the phone held up against your ear with your shoulder, grabbing one branch and gently pushing it aside so that the water from your can could reach every crevice of the tree.

ㅤ

"The bridge...?"

ㅤ

"Yes! I was told it looks ethereal in the spring, and it truly does! Ah, and it's closer to the train station than I thought. We can use it as a landmark for when we leave. What do you think?"

ㅤ

You continued watering in silence for a moment. It looks ethereal in the spring? Who the heck told her that?

Whatever, it wasn’t your job to question everything.

ㅤ

"That can work. When do I come by?"

ㅤ

"Actually, I'm already here."

ㅤ

You immediately stopped watering.

ㅤ

"Already? Ying, the least you could've done was give me a heads up."

ㅤ

“I’m sorry, but I have something scheduled for sundown! I’ll see you there, okay? I promise you, it’ll be worth it!”

ㅤ

She closed the call before you could retort.

She was probably going to promote you or straight up just hand you the café. What with how busy she was starting to get and how much she disappeared, it wouldn’t surprise you if it turned out to be actually that. You didn’t really mind taking control of the café, now that you thought about it… Oh, but the idea of dealing with your co-workers’ minute problems sounded like pure torture.

You sighed and continued watering your plants in silence, quickening your pace so that you’d be able to make it to her in time.

ㅤ

It took you a while, but eventually, you made it. And the only guidance you used was the pitter patter of the children’s feet as they ran around and cackled, alongside the melodic chirping of the birds. The bus left a trail of smoke as it sped off, but this one mild inconvenience was immediately drowned out by the sight before you.

Ying was right, the place looked like paradise on Earth now that it was spring.

The waters were crystal clear, the trees were full of life and the grass on the ground vibrated with an enigmatic amount of cheerfulness. Almost like they were harmoniously swaying to a tune you couldn’t hear. Had someone taken a picture of this place, you would’ve convinced yourself it was just editing and that there was no way Earth would look like this.

But it did, you mused as you approached the bridge.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at a comfortable spot and rest your arms on the warm railing. Thankfully, despite your short height, the railings weren’t too tall and your loose clothes allowed you maximum flexibility to peer through to catch a glimpse of the waters. Short enough for you to be able to comfortably lean on it, but not so short children could fall down.

Your eyes were firmly fixated on the lake. And for the first time in so long, you felt... content.

You still didn't know what your goal in life was. You still didn't know why you should keep going, among many other questions like that. But all you knew was that the path your life headed in... Well, you didn’t want to change anything about it.

What would tomorrow look like? You pondered with a fond smile, holding up the Meyer lemon just above the lake and allowing the sun's light to shine in on it. And it beamed. It beamed with celestial beauty unfathomable to the human mind.

This was your harvest.

You put down the lemon with an even wider smile and stared at the lake instead, the fish that swam by. Tomorrow sounded amazing, now that you thought about it.

And you looked forward to it.

ㅤ

"Y/N?"

ㅤ

A soft voice promptly came up from behind you. You sighed and stuffed the lemon back into your pockets, before turning around to meet her gaze.

ㅤ

"What took you so long? I thought you were in a hurry–"

ㅤ

The moment you locked gazes with a familiar pair of lilac eyes, your breathing hitched, and time stood still.

It took a moment to comprehend that this person wasn’t Ying. It wasn’t Ying at all. It was… You felt your heart drop as you rapidly looked the figure up and down.

Broad shoulders, purple eyes, black hair, tall stature…

It was Yu. He stood only a few feet away from you; and he donned a meticulously designed hoodie with collars tall enough to conceal the lower portion of his face. One you had never seen before.

The words were lodged in your throat. Scratch that, no, your mind went completely blank, and the world felt like it started breaking apart.

ㅤ

“Yu…”

ㅤ

"Y/N, I..." He took a step forward, the floorboards audibly creaking under his weight. "I'm so sorry."

ㅤ

His voice had a sombre undertone. Slight and drowned out by the mirth that surrounded the both of you, but it was still telling. It was one that successfully let you know that he drowned in regret, all without saying a single word.

And yet, you still weren't sure how to feel about this. Sad? Happy? Furious? The second option was the most obvious one in your mind, but for the love of God, you just couldn’t form a single thought in your head. Heck, you couldn’t even comprehend the situation in general. All you knew was that Yu was here. And that was… No, wrong wasn’t the word.

His hand gently clasped your shoulder, and a familiar warmth landed alongside it.

ㅤ

"I'm sorry it took so long, but I- I was caught up in so many things, and it all just..."

ㅤ

He then pulled you into a hug. Your cheek slammed against his chest, the impact only cushioned by his thick hoodie.

ㅤ

"I missed you."

ㅤ

You didn't react.

For a few seconds, you stood there with a stiff posture as you stared into space, unsure whether you should return the hug or just stay silent and not do anything. This whole situation felt unreal. It felt like one of those hyper realistic dreams your brain would conjure up whenever it decided it wanted to escape your pitiful life, but that sprinkle of hope always scattered the moment you woke up. But it wasn't. In fact, he stood right there, the familiar scent of lemons taking over your nostrils on account of how close he was.

Yu was here… He was present. He came back.

Though you shut your eyes as hard as you could, tears still formed against your will, and they were quick to stream down your cheeks.

ㅤ

"Where..." you started, "Where were you...?"

ㅤ

You weakly pulled away, but Yu still kept you in his grip. And you immediately took this chance to observe him all over again despite your incredibly blurry vision. It was as if those years had never passed given his features. He still had that same enchanting face, and those pretty lilac eyes that always tore away at your stress with just one glance.

ㅤ

"After all this time..."

ㅤ

You held his cheek and caressed it. His pale skin yielded under your touch, and the palm of your hand outlined the sharp structure of his jaw. The softness of his skin, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes juxtaposed to his stony expression… All of it was all so familiar.

ㅤ

"Why did you leave me, Yu?"

ㅤ

"I'm– I'm sorry, Y/N. It wasn't my choice. If I could take it all back, I would–"

ㅤ

"Why did you leave me?!"

ㅤ

You burst into tears and clutched his hoodie, burying your head in his chest.

ㅤ

"I thought you were dead! I– I thought that– I thought... I thought I lost you...!"

ㅤ

Out of pure instinct, Yu was quick to bring you closer and tightly hold you in his arms.

ㅤ

"I'm here, I'm here, okay? Nobody's dead."

ㅤ

"I thought you died, Yu! I thought you were dead, I– thought you were..."

ㅤ

Your sobs and nonsensical babbles continued. It was all the same repetitive questions about his well being, and more specifically, how you thought he was dead. Each sentence you managed to complete felt like another blade plunging his heart, only further drowning him in guilt.

And unfortunately for him, the only thing Yu knew to do in this situation was hold you and gently caress your back.

ㅤ

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I– I should've explained it all from the beginning. But I... didn't want to lose you if I ever did."

ㅤ

He knew how stupidly soft you made him. How he'd stutter when speaking to you, and how wide his smile had gotten when you two first hugged, your arms squishing his thick white hoodie just to reach his form. The same hoodie he spent hours washing blood off of the night before.

Maybe he should've told you.

ㅤ

"I thought you were dead, I– I thought... that gun, you–"

ㅤ

Though you followed these loosely strung sentences with a curse, one specific word successfully pierced his bubble.

ㅤ

"Gun? What gun?"

ㅤ

This question seemed to bring you back as well. You pulled away, and just the sight of your red cheeks and shimmering eyes, aching with raw emotion, all of it was enough for him to understand how much this impacted you.

ㅤ

"I saw that gun. N�� next to that medallion." You furrowed your brow, the sun sharply highlighting your tear-stricken face. "Is that it? Are you in a gang, Yu? Is that what you couldn't tell me?!"

ㅤ

"No! I– I wasn't in a gang, Y/N. It's..."

ㅤ

Yu's gaze fell. Unintentionally, he instead eyed your trembling hands.

He couldn’t hide this anymore, could he?

ㅤ

"I– I'm... Look, as unbelievable as this sounds, I– I was a… I was a hitman."

ㅤ

"...You were what? A hitman?!"

ㅤ

"Yeah. I… That’s the truth."

ㅤ

You narrowed your eyes. It really was unbelievable. How could someone like him be capable of killing someone? No, not someone, but people? And for a job?! You would’ve labelled him a liar if it weren’t for that blasted gun.

Then, a name popped up in your mind, one that seemed to support this idea.

ㅤ

"Iso...?"

ㅤ

He went blank for a moment.

ㅤ

"...That's, uh, no, that's a code name. I switched to a profession less... suffocating. That's what they call me now."

ㅤ

"Ying was in on this?"

ㅤ

Yu's face blanched. But quickly, he held your hand and firmly kept it in your grip.

ㅤ

"She was my only way of knowing you were alive! There wasn't any– Y/N, look, none of this should've happened, I know I should've been honest from the beginning, but I didn't want you to leave if I ever told you!” His eyes darted elsewhere. “Ying wasn’t happy when she found out, but I–"

ㅤ

"I’m not like her! I never would've gone anywhere! You could've been the devil and I still would've stayed because I wouldn’t have kept going if you weren’t there!” You furrowed your brow. ”But that's not the case anymore. I still love you, but I know what I deserve, Yu. I know I deserve a relationship that isn't... one-sided..."

ㅤ

You suddenly choked on your words. Yet, he was quick to respond when he could.

ㅤ

"But we can have that, Y/N! We can start anew, no more secrets. Nothing between us, okay? Nothing but the truth. Just, please..." he squeezed your trembling hand, "give me one more chance. I promise I'll make you the happiest woman on Earth."

ㅤ

Tears began to flow once more, tracing the same path as the ones that had dried out mere seconds ago.

For a moment, your eyes slammed shut, and you used this pause to both catch your breath and comprehend the situation. It was hard to make a decision. Sure, you were unbelievably mad at everything. At Ying, at Yu, at the world, and especially those people who held Yu hostage, if his words were to be believed.

But, Hitman…? It sounded so unbelievable. Yu was just way too kind and pacifistic to commit murder. It sounded impossible.

Almost mechanically, You rested your head on his chest, lying limp as he wrapped his arms around you. The lack of aversion on your side registered as permission for him to hold you. Not that he still didn't remain incredibly cautious.

ㅤ

"Happiest woman on Earth..."

ㅤ

You muttered ponderously to yourself. You were already happy. But you knew you’d be happier with him. Even after everything that happened, you missed having him by your side again. You missed his curious little questions about things you considered mundane, and that endearing look of realisation as you explained it to him…

Then, a smile lifted your lips.

ㅤ

"I missed you, Yu." You hugged him back. "From now on, you’ll be honest with me. About everything."

ㅤ

Being this close to him, you felt the jump in his palpitations as he registered these words.

ㅤ

"I will! I will. I promise."

ㅤ

You closed your eyes, allowing the familiar scent of lemons to enter your nostrils and put your mind at ease once more. The two of you stayed like this for a second. It felt like this embrace’s sole purpose was to make up for how much you two missed each other. Of course, he knew he would’ve lost a bit of his sanity had he not known about your whereabouts, but he also knew that saying that probably… Maybe it’s best to keep quiet. Thank God for Ying’s updates…

Then, his eyes shot open at the mention of the healer.

ㅤ

“Hey, let’s go home. I have so much to tell you.”

ㅤ

You pulled away and wiped your cheek once more, noticing the eagerness etched on his features. You nodded.

ㅤ

“I’d like that.”

ㅤ

With that, he held your hand and helped you stand up, and the two of you began walking away from the bridge. His thumb promptly began tracing the lines on your palm all on its own. And of course, you couldn’t help but wistfully smile at this familiar

Despite everything, you couldn’t truly hate this man, no matter how much you knew you had to. You just wanted to know how this gentle giant was supposedly a hitman.

You rested your head on his shoulder as you moved.

58 notes · View notes

theorphicangel · 2 years ago

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫. | 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 |

tags: no warnings, fluff, crack, established relationship, gn reader

You had known for a little while that this had been going on. He didn’t even try to hide it.

Leaving his bed in the middle of the night, waking up early, always on his phone and when you asked him what he was doing it would always be the same excuse.

You didn’t know how to feel.

Anger was definitely one of your top emotions yet also betrayal. How he could easily go behind your back and come back to you like nothing ever happened.

You wanted to confront him about it from the first time you caught on but you knew he would immediately act all defensive about it.

You didn’t know what you did wrong, sure you had a lot more shifts going on these days but you tried to get along. However no matter how far you tried to catch up to him, he would hide away and continue to leave you behind.

Tired.

That was it.

You were tired. Of the lies, the betrayal and the hidden secrets.

But tonight you had the courage to finally confront him, figuring it would be better to tell him what you knew before he could break your heart.

The door creaked open slowly before you walked in, arriving from work earlier than usual. He shuffled to a comfortable position on the couch of your shared apartment, switching off the television immediately to then grab his phone.

You shut the door behind you.

“You’re home early.” he stated, trying to seem more interested in his phone than you.You hummed at him, “How was your day?” he asked.

“Good.” you replied bluntly. You eyed him up and down before walking over to sit at the other end of the couch. He could tell. He could tell by your body language that you were upset. The slight thought of you knowing crossed his mind and he nervously swallowed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, praying that he wouldn’t know the answer. You looked at him with a sharp glare. His innocent eyes how they easily deceived you. But you weren’t stupid to fall for this trick.

“I know.” You said continuing to glare. “I know what you’ve been doing.”

He stopped his movements as his breath was caught in his throat. He knew he was caught, red-handed.

“Look-” he began to explain before you cut him off.

“No. I don’t want to hear your excuses. This has gone on for weeks and you thought I was stupid enough to act like nothing was happening.”

“I never thought you were stupid.” he corrected.

“So...why didn’t you just tell me. From the first time.”

He looked away as he hesitated, “I don’t- I don’t know. I guess...I was ashamed…”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, “What episode are you on?” Once again he hesitated, you looked over at him. “Levi,” you warned, “What episode?”

He looked away in embarrassment, “I’m on season 3.”

Your jaw practically dropped, your whole body speechless. He called out your name as you stood ready to storm off. “Wait! Look, look I’ll stop watching until you catch up I swear.”

“No!” you cried out, “You told me just one episode and then behind my back you start binge- watching without me, hell you said the fucking show was shitty from the first episode!”

“I know, I know. But it was just one time and I got-”

“No. Don’t talk to me right now Levi Ackerman. I haven’t got time for cheaters.” You crossed your arms and turned away from him.

It was his turn for him to be speechless. “Oh so now I’m a cheater?”

“Yes, you are.”

A moment of silence passed. “Okay fine.” he said. “I guess I’ll watch season 3 without you then.” he sighed.

You gasped at his statement, “You wouldn’t dare.”

His grey eyes poured into yours. “Yes. I Would.”

You glared at him as he gave you the same identical look back, you broke away first once a smile started to appear across your face.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” He said. “I promise to wait for you to catch up only if you actually watch the episodes.”

“The fuck do you take me for ? Of course I’ll watch them.” you snapped.

“Funny you say then yet you were on your phone half the time, but go on... tell me...what happened last episode?”

Now it was your turn to hesitate and look away, “I can’t remember...a lot happened.” you mumbled in shame.

“Go hurry up and shower then. I’ll be waiting.”

You eyed him up and down in suspicion. “And I won’t start an episode without you.” he swore, rolling his eyes.

“Okay…” you agreed.

“Good.”

“Good.” you repeated. “But still I think once a cheater always a cheater.” you pouted walking away.

“Tell me that again once you’ve finally caught up to season 3.”

taglist: @notgoodforlife @youre-ackermine @lovolee3 @the-milk-anon @evas-leslas , @imkumichan @levi-supreme , @leviismybby @bejewelledd @searriously @luvjiro @secretmoneybearvoid @idkks4m

click here to join the taglist!

#one of my earlier works I think #I like this one #angel writes #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #attack on titan #aot x reader #levi x you #levi x reader fluff #aot fluff

476 notes · View notes

according2thelore · 3 months ago

Note

I’ve been devouring your ES/LS verse tags, and you know what i can’t stop thinking about? How purely ESdean loved ESsam. Like. My baby bother can do nothing wrong. You killed that guy? Guy must’ve done soemthing it’s ok. And how that was absolutley ripped away from Sam by season 4, and he never actually got it back. Not from his POV. In Sam’s mind I’m pretty sure he knows Dean loves him- but it’s part obligation, part history and pattern, and part *in spite of* all the shit. Not the same kind of absolute devotion he grew up with until Dean died (of course it is, but not to Sam). It can’t be. Not after he didn’t save Dean from hell, the demon blood, the voicemail, Lucifer, the amulet, soulless Sam, purgatory, etc etc.

And now. Now. He’s gone esDean right THERE. A Dean that still loves his Sammy the way lsSam thinks he’s lost forever. And lsSam didn’t even know how much it hurt to lose that until he’s looking at it. Like he’s been bleeeding out for decade about it and n it even really noticing. A brother who loves him- absolutley- is back. Is right there. Is looking at him the way he used to. Before Sam ruined everything.

Holy shit how bad does that fuck up lsSam. I don’t see how he wouldn’t become obsessed with esDean. And I mean obsessed. Wanted to be around him all the time. Just soaking up what he thinks he doesn’t have anymore and can only have fire little while as a reprieve. I cannot emphasize the obsession.

To the point where lsDean notices. Like. Really notices. Because he never actually stopped being devoted to his brother, and Dean? He’s never experienced Sam being obsessed with someone else. Not ever. He thought he had- Stanford or ruby- but that wasn’t the same. That wasn’t this. That wasn’t Sammy staring at someone with all the love he has for Dean and soemhow even more stars in his eyes. It has to drive lsDean insane. Insane insane. He grew up to be a mean sob, and this is pushing every Sam button.

I caaaaaaant. An insanely depressed and fucked up laSam being based with the younger Dean, while lsdean froths at the Mouth.

Chefs kiss.

GAHH!!!!!! this is beautiful!!!! everyone stop what you're doing and read this!!!!!! i love the way you phrased this @bickbickbarnes, and i am frothing at the mouth reading it over and over again!!!!

i wrote just a little thing about this--i hope that's alright!! your (totally on point) description of their dynamic really captured why i love LS!Sam/ES!Dean sm!!

AN: i fucking lied this thing is 1.3k words...i hope you like, lol!

-lizzy

"woah!" dean shouts, and sam jumps a little. he whirls around, and younger dean is running up to him, eyes wide. his arms are thrown open, machete dangling casually from his grip. he punches sam in the arm when he finally catches up to him. the smile on his face is blinding. "sammy what was that, man?"

sam drops his own machete to the side. he's still heaving for breath, having just decapitated a vampire that ran at him. older dean and sam are standing off to the side, and sammy notices his younger self gawking at older dean with something...heavy, something hot, in his eyes as dean hauls one decapitated body over his shoulder to start the pyre.

"what?" sam asks, looking back down at young dean. he looks down at the body and nudges it a little. did dean think he didn't cut all the way through the neck? the body jiggles.

"that was so fucking cool." dean crows, and sam turns back around to look at him, taken aback. dean is grinning so wide that it closes his eyes. he shakes sam's shoulder. "grandpa!" dean calls, and older dean looks over with a scowl. "that's how you do it."

"oh." sam's chest feels tight, and he feels hot creep across his cheeks, up his neck. "thanks."

dean is still patting him on the back, and sam hasn't been praised like this for taking out a vampire since they first found out they still existed. sam jostles under dean's arm.

"'thanks'--" dean repeats, scoffing, and raises an eyebrow at younger sam, who's scowling. "humble, too."

"whatever." sam spits, and stalks off. sammy doesn't take dean's arm off of him, expecting him to move it, but he doesn't. not for a minute.

~~~

"i knew you could do it!" dean snatches the book out of sammy's hands, and sam's chest feels weird--tight--as dean beams down at the page. they'd been researching werewolves all afternoon, and sam finally found a passage in urdu that mentions the strange scales they've been finding at the murder sites. dean squints at the words like he can read it at all, and nods. "my geeky little brother never loses."

dean states, dismissive, a sarcastic grin on his face like he's mocking him.

"uh--" sam starts, trying to find the footing in this conversation. the praise is casual--purposefully degrading--but it's praise. older dean hasn't blinked at sam finding a clue--in any language--for...god, years probably. they've just gotten that good.

dean peeks a look up at him, and sam is stopped by the strange look in his eyes.

"tried to strangle the inner nerd with those things--" dean gestures at sammy's arms with a casual hand and a raised eyebrow. "--but you couldn't." dean looks up, and his smile is quiet and softer. his tone is admiring. "man."

dean shakes his head and looks back down at his own book--written in english--with a bottom lip cushioned around a pencil.

sam folds his arms, conscious of them again. that's been one of the biggest sticking points for younger dean: sam's size. strangely, sam suddenly wishes he was smaller. small enough that dean--this dean--could do...something. sam can't put his finger on it.

it had been a long time since being with dean felt like this, since the tension was full and heavy and warm. it feels like long drives and quiet silences and shitty whisky passed back and forth under the table.

sam's breath catches when he realizes...it feels like home.

being with dean always feels like home, but this feels like sitting back down in the childhood bedroom that sam never had and letting the mom he never knew pet through his hair and tell him it was always going to be okay.

the world is so strange and terrifying and smaller than sam had any right to know, but dean--this dean--nudges his foot under the table without thinking about it.

he loves him in the way that children love things--without equivocation, without years of betrayal and revenge and torture and nightmares.

it's dean.

sam nudges his foot back, and greedily drinks in the pinkness on the top of dean's ears.

~~~

older dean wipes blood off of his jaw, and sammy helps younger sam off of the floor. the kid is fine, but younger dean immediately takes the burden of him, sliding under his arm like he's always been there.

sammy notes that older dean's eyes track the kid, too, and sammy rolls his eyes. he's fine.

the cave they're in is dark, and sam can feel the damp like a cool sweat on his skin.

dean clears his throat, "okay we need to split up, i say--"

"i'll take dean," everyone--including sammy--is surprised, when he speaks up first.

sam shifts his arm over dean's shoulder, and pushes sweaty bangs off of his forehead.

"don't you think we should split experience levels--" he starts, but sammy cuts him off with a finger.

a finger pointing at the man under his arm.

"i meant dean," sammy says, and sam straightens, shocked out of the performance of needing dean to stand.

"yeah," younger dean says, straightening too. his eyes are bright, and his smile is so satisfied that sammy finds himself smirking, too. "he meant dean," dean says, glaring at older dean. sammy pats him on the shoulder, hard, and dean obediently follows after him as they split up.

"don't worry, i'll protect you." dean says, after a while, young voice echoing over the cavern walls and reverberating in sam's skull. sam wishes his internal voice sounded like this, instead of...sam shakes his head to clear the thoughts.

he looks down at dean, whose chest is puffed up. it's all play-acting, and they both know it. dean looks up at him, and gives him a slow once over that makes sammy have to swallow, hard. "don't think i could human shield you, but...i'll do my best." dean smirks.

sam punches him in the shoulder, and then has to kneel on the ground as the hit takes dean to the floor, apologizing profusely.

~~~

"shit, man," dean hisses, and squats down so he can press a rag to sam's head. sam freezes, shocked by how close he is.

sam is forty. this kid is twenty-seven, but he pats at sam's cut and coos sympathetically like he's tending to a child. sam knows his head wound must gush again, because all the blood in his body rushes to his face.

sam had been cut by a piece of glass but it was shallow, and the slice had been clean.

"that was nasty. are you okay?" dean asks. sam stares at him.

dean's eyes are green, and his freckles stick out on his skin. fuck, he's gorgeous. he's so fucking gorgeous.

his lips are plump and pink, and his eyes are soft and round. it's disney princess shit. sam blinks up at him, and feels like he's fourteen again, and this boy could fix every single thing that's wrong.

his mouth is dry.

"who was the centerfold model in the '89 playboy i kept in my bag?" dean asks.

"reneé tenison" sam mutters automatically, dazed, and dean's face splits in a shit eating grin.

"i always knew you read it after me." dean crows. but he still pats sam's cut like he's porcelain. "dirty bastard."

sam nods. fuck. he'll be anything.

"let me help you up." dean sits back on his heels, and sam obediently raises his arms, palms up. he's being babied. he's being babied.

~~~

"dean--" sam leans back, book open in his lap, and older dean looks up. his gaze softens when he catches sam's eye, having been glaring and muttering down at his record player for the last hour and a half. he's gutted it on the table, and is fiddling with wires because he's not going to pay some some man-bun yuppie $700 to tell me what i already know.

"yeah?" he asks, clearly relieved for the reprieve.

sam winces.

"no, sorry, dean--" he points at younger dean, slumped over the couch in the library, flipping through the hunger games with a rapt expression.

he snaps to attention, dropping the book on the floor and denting the cover. "oh! yeah?"

sam holds up the book in his lap--a catalogue of the weapons storage room.

"i found it." he grins.

dean scrambles off of the couch, almost sliding up to sam like someone slides into home plate.

"DUDE!" he snatches the book out of sam's hands and reads it rapidly. he looks down at sam, beaming. "your brain scares me." he gives sam the book back, and tries not to look interested as he asks, slowly. "do you think we could--"

sam looks down at the open page. the kitsune death sword. it was said it could peel the skin off of people that looked at the gem on the hilt.

dean's excitement is contagious, though, and sam can feel his own grin spreading. he looks back up at him.

"it's on the fourth floor."

dean is already running out of the room, and sam scrambles up to follow him, the distant "fuck yeah!" of dean making sam sputter with laughter.

he doesn't notice the expression on older dean's face when he leaves.

~~~

"GAH!" dean almost drops the ladle into the pot of mystery soup on the stove. sam leans in the doorway of the kitchen, having been observing his quiet puttering for a few minutes. "jesus. sorry. you're big. i mean--" dean holds out his hands, dropping soup on the floor due to the ladle still clenched in his fist. "you're here. WHICH IS GREAT. sorry, you're big."

his cheeks are bright red, and sammy tries to arrange his facial features into sobriety.

"yeah, i am." sam says, somber. "big and great."

dean sucks on his teeth, pink up to his ears, and leans back over his soup, muttering.

"brat." he admonishes, and sam snorts. he walks the few steps into the kitchen to lean against the counter next to him.

"what're you doing?" he asks. the soup smells okay, but sam can see cut hot dogs swirling in it. his stomach churns.

'i found a recipe book from the 40s and they have something called a 'triple meat sundae.'" dean says, holding up the card for sam's perusal. sam takes it from him, and reads the truly terrifying recipe list.

"that is...horrific." sam replies. marshmallow creme and barbeque sauce??

"figures you're still a snob." dean rolls his eyes.

"a snob with functional arteries." sam reminds him, putting the recipe card back by his elbow.

dean is silent for a long second, looking at him with warm eyes.

"bitch." dean says, tentative. hopeful. it almost sounds like a question. fuck. sam hasn't heard that in a while. in a long time. not since dean wore that necklace everyday like it was the best thing to ever happen to him.

sammy's eyes fall to it now, the mark of ownership clear to him in a way it had never been before.

"yeah." sam says, chest full of loveyesmine. dean's face falls, slightly, and he's quick to correct. "oh--sorry--jerk."

dean nods, hiding his grin behind the ladle of his radioactive soup.

~~~

"you didn't come to bed last night."

sam sits up, and sees dean--older dean, sammy's dean--looking down at him. there's a cup of coffee in his hand, and he puts it down next to sam's elbow. sam takes it gratefully.

he's been sitting at the war table all morning, and realizes his shoulders ache.

"hm?" he takes a sip of his coffee, and tries to un-kink his spine. dean is wearing just a henley today, and sammy admires the way it pulls across his chest as he crosses his arms.

"you didn't come to bed." dean says again. it takes sam's brain a second to process it.

he had been sneaking into dean's room--their room, really--for the past week, as sleeping alone had become irritating and exhausting. his own room had become dusty and felt barren in dean's absence.

they'd been trying to sleep separately for the sake of their younger selves, but agreed that what they didn't know didn't hurt them, as long as they didn't do it every night.

"oh. yeah. sorry--dean wanted to watch the sopranos finale. we couldn't find you or sam so we watched it in the dean cave." sam snorts, remembering the look on his face. "you should've seen him, he--"

"i know." dean cuts him off abruptly. "we watched that finale together in 2008. remember?"

sam looks at him again, brought up short. dean looks...

"oh. yeah. sorry." sam mutters, leaning into dean's leg because the sudden emotional distance has him on uneven ground.

"sam and i were in the archives. like you asked us to." dean says, lowly, and it has a bit of rasp from clenched teeth. sam sits up straight. oh fuck. he had asked them to find the file on that norse battle axe, hadn't he?

"oh, shit." he puts the mug down, and wraps a hand around the back of dean's knee. he rubs a hand over his own face. "sorry, it's been...a lot."

there's a hand in sam's hair, and sam leans into it shamelessly, relieved that he's been forgiven for this, at least.

"yeah." dean says, but his voice is still tense. "i know."

~~~

the door is closed. and both sams are in the library. so no one is there to see it. or hear it.

but if someone was walking past the door to storage room 14C, this is what they'd hear:

"--back off." the voice is tense. low.

"back off? you sound like the old man." a scoff.

"i'm only telling you once. we can't fix this shit yet, but you gotta stop hanging around him all the damn time. he's not your sam."

"why? you feelin' threatened?" a taunt. "your dick not workin in your old age? sammy want--"

a slam. a crash. something gets pushed to the floor, and things scatter across tile.

"i'm telling you. to back. the fuck. off."

"you can't hurt me." the words are choked.

"i can't kill you. there's a difference." rubber soles on a concrete wall, like someone is kicking at it. fabric rustling as a body is pushed up a wall. "it's a biiigggg line. huge." the voice is a growl, but the threat of violence is gleeful. excited.

something drops to the ground. heavier this time, and someone gasps for breath. footsteps walk to the door and almost exit, when--

"i can tell you i'll stay away all i want. can't stop him from coming to me."

~~~

older sam takes great care to ice younger dean's knee that night, and coos over his black eye. younger dean won't tell him what happened, but leans out of sammy's gentle touch when older dean walks by and asks what happened.

older dean fucks sammy through the mattress that night, so deep sam feels like he's going to choke on it. and sam wears the bruises for days.

he loves it.

#ask box #lizzy answers #ES/LS verse #bickbickbarnes #adoring LS!Sam #jealous LS!Dean

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