#I am afraid you can’t say that in the ring
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lemonlinelights · 2 years ago
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It’s me with the metal chair
Why do I hear boss music
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pucksandpower · 5 months ago
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Baby Girl Norris
Lando Norris x pediatrician!Reader
Summary: you know what you have to do — track down a world-famous Formula 1 driver, tell him about his newborn daughter, and maybe, if he’s willing, help him navigate single fatherhood — falling in love with their little family was not part of the plan … but doing so changes all your lives for the better
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You take a deep breath as you enter the nursery, steeling yourself for the task ahead. As a pediatrician at the Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco, you’ve cared for thousands of babies over the years. But this case is different.
Baby Girl Norris, born just two hours ago, is now legally parentless after her mother signed away all parental rights. Hospital protocol demands you track down and notify the father before assuming guardianship. Easier said than done when the father is Formula 1 superstar Lando Norris.
Approaching the clear bassinet, you gaze down at the sleeping newborn. Wispy dark hair peeks out from under her pink cap. Ten tiny fingers curled into fists. She has no idea how complicated her life is about to become.
You flip through the chart again, verifying the details. Mother is French, here on a student visa. Refused to even look at the baby after a 27-hour labor, immediately signing away rights. Father listed as one Lando Norris of the United Kingdom.
You sigh, picking up the phone to dial the number listed. It rings five times before disconnecting. You try the landline for his Monaco residence with the same result. Probably outdated.
Time for plan B. You search the McLaren Racing website until you find a generic service line. Heart pounding, you dial.
“McLaren Technology Centre, this is Marie speaking.”
You take a breath. “Hello, I apologize for the strange request, but I need to reach Lando Norris as soon as possible. It’s … it’s regarding a private family matter.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Norris does not accept unsolicited communications. Have a nice-”
“Wait!” You interject. “Please, I am calling from Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco. We have a newborn baby girl here, and we believe Mr. Norris may be the father.”
Marie hesitates. “Hold please, I’ll transfer you.”
Your pulse quickens. This may actually work! But your hopes are quickly dashed.
“This is Andrew from McLaren Racing public relations. May I ask who I’m speaking with?” His tone is suspicious.
You explain again about the baby, her mother, and the situation.
Andrew sighs loudly. “I’m sure you understand we get calls like this constantly. Lando isn’t even in the hemisphere right now. I’m afraid we can’t help you.”
“No, wait, please!” But the line goes dead.
You frown, gears turning. The team must think you’re some obsessed fan or scammer. You’ll have to get creative.
Over the next two days, you call every related number you can find. Each time you’re met with more resistance. They must have flagged your information as a nuisance caller.
On the third day, you’re signing charts at the nurse’s station when a colleague walks by. “Did you hear? Lando Norris is coming to take a tour of the hospital next week. Some charity thing.”
Your eyes widen. This is it — your chance to intercept him in person!
You spend the next few days obsessing over what to say, how to convince him. Baby Girl Norris needs her father.
The big day arrives. Heart hammering, you lurk near the lobby, peering around the hallway corner as Lando walks in flanked by handlers. He looks exhausted but flashes his winning smile at the staff welcoming him.
You watch them start down the opposite hallway for the tour when you make your move. Rushing forward, you plant yourself firmly in his path.
“Mr. Norris! Sorry, I need just a minute of your time, it’s urgent-”
A member of his team immediately swoops in, pushing you back. “Ma’am, please. We kindly ask that you step aside.”
“No, wait!” You raise your voice over them. “Mr. Norris, my name is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a pediatrician here. I’ve been trying to reach you for days now regarding your newborn daughter!”
The team looks exasperated, but Lando holds up a hand. “It’s okay, let her speak.” His eyes bore into yours warily.
You take a breath. “I know this sounds insane. But a baby girl was born here last week to a French student named Celeste Dubois. On the birth certificate, she named you as the father before signing away parental rights.”
You continue explaining the situation rapidly, watching Lando’s eyes widen in shock.
One of his handlers steps in. “You honestly expect us to believe this wild story? We’re on a timeline.” He tries to tug Lando along.
“No, it’s okay.” Lando stands firm, studying you intently. “What proof do you have of any of this?”
You hold his gaze. “I can show you the birth certificate, but a DNA test would confirm if you’re the father. It’s hospital policy to notify and provide the father an opportunity to assume custody.”
Lando chews his lip nervously. His team murmurs among themselves.
After a long pause, he speaks. “Even if this is some scam or mix-up, that poor child deserves to have answers. Please, lead the way for a test.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. Wordlessly, you turn and lead Lando to the lab. His team protests but he insists on following through.
In the lab, you supervise as the technician takes a simple cheek swab. “24 to 48 hours for results,” she confirms.
Lando nods, looking dazed. “Right. Okay. If she’s really mine, I want to step up. Just call me, yeah?” He extends his number on a slip of paper.
You smile and promise to be in touch. As he turns to leave, you feel swarmed with emotions. One major hurdle down, but nothing certain yet.
The next 48 hours pass at a snail’s pace. When the lab calls, your fingers shake as you unfold the results. Positive. A 99.99% match.
You pass along the news and arrange a meeting at the hospital. The press can’t know about this yet.
Approaching the secluded waiting room, you pause to observe Lando through the window. He paces nervously, running his hands through his hair again and again. His usual polished veneer is gone, replaced by a young man anxiously awaiting life-changing news. Your heart goes out to him.
Finally knocking, he whirls around as you enter. “Well? Is she really mine?”
You nod, holding out the results. He accepts them with unsteady hands.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” he says quietly. “This is just ... a lot.”
“I understand. It’s a complicated situation. But you’re here now.” You offer an encouraging smile.
Lando takes a deep breath. “Can I meet her?”
You lead him to the nursery viewing room. He presses against the glass, eyes scanning until they settle on bassinet D7. His brows knit together.
“That’s her?” His voice wavers slightly.
You nod. “Would you like to go inside and hold her?”
He hesitates. “I don’t want to confuse or upset her.”
You gesture reassuringly. “Newborns seek warmth and a gentle touch. She’ll appreciate the contact.”
Looking uncertain, Lando follows you into the nursery. You lift the swaddled baby, carefully transferring her into Lando’s awkward embrace. He peers down at her, his expression unreadable.
“She’s so tiny ...” he murmurs. The newborn girl yawns, eyes still shut, snuggling instinctively into his chest.
Lando’s guarded facade finally cracks, eyes glistening. He adjusts his arms to cradle her more securely.
“Hi there,” he whispers. “I’m your ...” He trails off, not quite able to say it.
You touch his shoulder gently. “You’re her father. And she needs you.”
He nods, never breaking his gaze from the newborn’s face. “I’ll do right by her, I promise. Whatever it takes.”
Relief sweeps over you. While an arduous legal process awaits, this sweet child will finally have a real family.
As Lando rocks the baby gently, he suddenly laughs. “She’s a real beauty, isn’t she? Look at that hair. Thick and curly, just like her old man.”
You chuckle. “It appears so. Have you thought about a name?”
He hums contemplatively. “I’ve always been partial to Georgia. Gigi for short.”
“Georgia Norris,” you say with a smile. “It’s perfect.”
The new father beams down at his daughter. “Welcome to the world, little Gigi. I can’t wait to take you home.”
As you observe this tender moment, your heart swells for both father and daughter. With someone as loving and dedicated as Lando by her side, Gigi’s future looks bright indeed.
Watching them meet for the first time — seeing a family begin to blossom out of hardship and uncertainty — is the greatest reward of your job. As you quietly slip out to give them space, you can’t hold back a smile. Everything, after all, is turning out exactly as it should.
***
After spending over an hour bonding with his newborn daughter in the nursery, Lando reluctantly hands her back to the nurse for feeding time. He turns to you, smiling but still looking dazed.
“I can’t thank you enough, Y/N. Really. You’ve given me and Gigi a new start.”
You touch his arm warmly. “Of course. I’m so glad I could help connect you two. She’s absolutely beautiful.”
Lando grins proudly. “She really is perfect. I already love her so much, it’s mad. I just ...” His face falls slightly. “I don’t have the first clue how to actually take care of a baby. Let alone with my job, traveling all the time for races and training. What have I gotten myself into?”
He runs an anxious hand through his curls. Your heart goes out to him.
“Hey, it’s okay.” You gesture for him to follow you out to the waiting room for privacy.
Lando collapses onto the sofa, head in hands. “Sorry, I’m just now fully realizing what this means. A baby, she’s completely dependent on me! I don’t know the first thing about babies. I’m barely an adult myself!”
You sit beside him. “Lando, look at me.” He lifts his head reluctantly. You offer an encouraging smile.
“It’s normal to feel overwhelmed. But you stepped up when Gigi needed you most. That’s what matters. With some guidance, you’ll be an amazing father.”
He doesn’t look convinced. You continue gently, “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll give you all the essential information for first-time parents. I’ll even set you up with parenting classes, and we have a support group-”
Lando groans loudly, letting his head fall back. You suppress a chuckle.
“Okay, forget classes for now. Just focus on learning the basics. Things like feeding, changing, bathing. Infant CPR. I’ll give you my cell to text with questions anytime. Day or night.”
You jot down your number and hand it to him. He nods, looking slightly encouraged.
“We’ll also get you connected with services that can assist first-time parents with supplies, nutrition consultants, and childcare options.”
His eyes widen again. “God, I haven’t even told my family yet! Or bought anything she’ll need!” He scrubs at his face anxiously.
You lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Breathe. Setbacks are expected. But you’ll get there.”
Lando takes a deep breath, regaining some composure. “You’re right. Sorry for the meltdown. I really appreciate you talking me down.”
“Don’t apologize. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t at all anxious about this huge life change.”
You smile warmly. “But you accepted your daughter unconditionally when it mattered most. Not every man in your position would do that. I know you’ll figure the rest out over time. It’s a process.”
He nods, starting to calm down. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. We’ll take it step by step.”
You spend the next hour walking Lando through all the basics — safe sleep, feeding schedules, hygiene, developmental milestones, and pediatrician visits. He takes vigorous notes on his phone, determination returning to his face.
“Clothes, blankets, nappies, bottles ...” He mumbles to himself as he types. “Maybe pick up a parenting book or two as well ...”
You grin, happy to see him growing more at ease and optimistic. When the nurse returns with a sleeping Gigi, Lando immediately takes her back into his arms.
“We’ve got this, little one,” he whispers to her. “I’ll give you the absolute best in life … starting with a nice new flat for us here in Monaco.” He looks back at you questioningly.
You nod in approval. “Giving Gigi a stable home should be your top priority.”
He smiles down at the baby, gently stroking her cheek. “Daddy will take good care of you. I promise.”
Your heart swells at the natural bond already forming between father and daughter. In this moment, any lingering doubts fade away. However difficult the road ahead, together they’ll be just fine.
After another hour visiting together, it’s time for Lando to head out. He’s clearly still anxious but also radiating love when he gazes at Gigi.
“Thank you again for everything,” he says sincerely, shaking your hand. “I’ll call my parents when I get home. Figure out how to break the news and beg for their help.”
He chuckles and you join in. “Don’t hesitate to text me anytime. About anything.”
Lando glances down at your scrawled cell number, then back up with a crooked grin. “Careful or I might take you up on the anything part.”
You blush slightly, waving him off. “Get out of here, you charmer. Go buy a crib and get some rest. Your life is about to get very busy.”
With a laugh, Lando walks backwards toward the exit, pointing finger guns at you. “Yes ma’am, Dr. Y/L/N. Catch you later.”
You stand shaking your head as he disappears from view. What an interesting patient case this has turned out to be.
Over the next several weeks, you and Lando text constantly. He sends cute videos and photos of Gigi along with his near-constant questions about her care. You don’t mind at all — you’re happy to guide him through this life transition.
True to his word, he quickly finds and furnishes a family-friendly luxury apartment in Monaco. He introduces Gigi to his stunned but excited parents via video call. He adjusts his training schedule to maximize time with her.
When his race travel resumes, he arranges for his parents or a local nanny to assist with Gigi full-time. Still, being apart takes an obvious toll on him.
The day before he’s set to fly to Australia for the first race of the season, Lando texts you a selfie looking forlorn, with Gigi snoozing on his chest.
Can you believe she’s already a month old? I don’t want to leave her!
You grin down at the photo. Gigi’s little rosebud lips are slightly parted as she sleeps. Lando’s staring at her adoringly despite the bags under his eyes.
I know it’s hard being away from her. But Gigi knows she has a father who loves her so much. Focus on making her proud out there!
You always know just what to say, doc. I’ll text you after the race!
You smile softly as you set down your phone. Over the past weeks, you’ve found yourself looking forward to Lando’s frequent messages and photos. He’s relieved when you reassure him he’s doing a great job as a new dad. And seeing Gigi thrive and grow under his doting care makes your heart fuller.
Professionally, your work is done now that Gigi and Lando are connected. But you can’t help feeling personally invested in this little family you helped create. You make a silent vow to always be there for them both, as long as they need you.
***
Weeks later, you’re jolted awake by your ringing cellphone. Bleary-eyed, you check the time: 2:37 am. Who could be calling at this hour?
You don’t recognize the number on your buzzing phone. But you answer anyway, just in case it’s an emergency.
“Hello?” You mumble into the phone.
“Y/N? Oh thank god!” The panicked voice on the other end makes you sit bolt upright.
Lando.
“Lando? What’s wrong?” Worry floods your system, instantly washing away any grogginess.
“It’s Georgia,” he cries. “She woke up crying and felt so hot. I took her temperature — it’s 39 degrees! I think she has a fever?”
You’re already throwing off your blankets, phone tucked against your shoulder. “Okay, stay calm. How is she acting otherwise?”
“She’s crying and really fussy. Won’t take her bottle. I don’t know what to do!” Lando sounds near tears himself.
“Shhh, deep breath,” you soothe. “Fever in babies this young is serious. You need to take her to emergency department right away.”
“Right, emergency, of course-” Lando rambles nervously.
“I’ll meet you there ASAP. Princess Grace Hospital, yes?”
“Yes, please hurry!” He ends the call abruptly. You scramble for clothes with adrenaline pounding.
In under ten minutes, you’re peeling out of your driveway towards the hospital. Even at this hour, Monaco’s streets remain congested. You drum your fingers anxiously on the steering wheel, praying Georgia will be okay.
Once you’ve parked, you race inside the ED doors. Your eyes scan the crowded waiting room until you spot Lando pacing in the corner, Georgia whimpering against his shoulder.
You rush over. “Lando!”
He turns, relief washing over his features. “Y/N, you came. Thank you.”
“Of course.” You squeeze his arm comfortingly before looking Georgia over with practiced eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, eyelids fluttering as she whines. Definitely not well.
Lando bounces lightly, trying to soothe her. “They told me it’s at least an hour wait. She’s getting worse though.” His eyes glisten with tears.
Your protective instincts flare, seeing them both so distraught. Striding to the check-in desk, you put on your most authoritative voice.
“Excuse me, I’m Dr. Y/L/N. I have an infant patient here who needs immediate evaluation.”
The nurse scans the packed waiting room. “I’m so sorry doctor, we’re doing our best. If you could just wait-”
You interrupt firmly. “This is a seven week old with a spiking fever. She requires urgent triage and treatment, not a waiting room. I must insist we be seen next.”
The nurse purses her lips, but can’t really argue with your reasoning. “Of course. I’ll let the charge nurse know to get you back immediately.”
You nod curtly before returning to Lando, who looks awed. “Blimey, remind me not to get on your bad side.”
The hint of a smile on his lips relieves you. Georgia’s still fussy as you both follow a nurse back moments later.
In an exam room, you help transfer the baby from Lando’s arms to the table. Her pitiful crying tugs at your heart.
Lando hovers anxiously as you take Georgia’s vitals and change her into a hospital gown. 39.1°C — higher than the concerning range for an infant. You frown in worry. Poor little love.
Soon the attending pediatrician arrives to assess her. You explain the situation from Lando’s frantic call to racing over. The doctor asks questions while examining Georgia’s ears, throat, and reflexes. Lando clutches your hand tightly the entire time.
After what feels like an eternity, the pediatrician steps back. “Given the fever with no apparent source, I’m concerned this could be a serious bacterial infection. We’ll run labs to check for things like meningitis. Start IV antibiotics and paracetamol to bring her fever down quickly.”
Lando pales, swaying slightly at the onslaught of medical terms. You slip an arm around him supportively.
“You’re saying she might have meningitis?” Lando chokes out.
The doctor holds up his hands. “It’s just one possibility. We’re not sure yet. The labs will tell us more.”
Lando buries his face in his hands. Your heart breaks seeing his shoulders shaking.
After the doctor departs to order tests, you guide Lando to sit down, keeping an arm around him. “Hey, try to breathe. Georgia needs her daddy calm and strong right now.”
Lando drags a hand over his wet eyes. “God, I’m trying. But she’s so little and sick. What if … what if it’s something serious?” His voice breaks again.
You turn him gently to face you, hands on his shoulders. “Listen to me. Whatever is going on, we will figure it out, okay? I’m right here with you both.”
He searches your face before nodding unsteadily. You draw him into a fierce hug.
“We’ve got this,” you whisper.
A nurse entering startles you apart. “Alright, time for labs.”
You both watch anxiously as she collects blood and other samples from a deeply unhappy Georgia. Her shrieking cries at the poking and prodding are harrowing. Lando has gone deathly pale.
Once finished, the nurse situates an IV line in Georgia’s tiny hand, securing it with tape and popping a pacifier in her mouth. Her eyelids droop, cries fading to soft whimpers as medication starts flowing.
You glance at Lando. “Why don’t you hold her again? Skin to skin contact will help soothe you both.”
Looking relieved by the suggestion, Lando strips off his shirt and takes Georgia, nestling her against his bare chest. You drape a blanket over them before rubbing his back comfortingly.
Georgia’s fussing settles as her father hums softly, eyes never leaving her face. The pure love between them makes your throat tighten.
Despite the uncertainty ahead, you know Georgia couldn’t be in better hands. And you silently vow to remain steadfast by their side, for whatever comes next.
Eventually Georgia drifts to sleep. The pediatrician returns shortly after with test results. “Good news. All the cultures are negative so far. With the antibiotics and paracetamol, her fever is already decreasing.”
You and Lando both sigh in relief.
“So no meningitis?” Lando asks hopefully.
The doctor shakes his head. “Doesn’t appear to be. We’ll repeat testing tomorrow, but likely just a minor bacterial infection. She’ll need to stay a few days for monitoring and fluids.”
Lando clutches Georgia closer. “Anything she needs. Thank you, doctor.”
Once you’re alone again, Lando gazes down at his sleeping daughter. “I was so scared,” he admits softly.
You nod, squeezing his shoulder. “I know. But she’s getting great care now. Try and rest — it’s been a long night.”
Lando glances at the empty cot along the wall. “Stay? Please? I … I don’t want to be alone right now.” His voice sounds so small and vulnerable.
Your chest tightens. “Of course.”
You help shift Lando and Georgia onto the little bed. She stirs slightly as you both get settled on either side of her.
Lando strokes Georgia’s cheek tenderly. “My brave girl. You’re going to be just fine.” Glancing up, his eyes meet yours. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything.”
You offer a tired smile, taking his hand. “That’s what I’m here for. Get some sleep.”
Exhaustion quickly pulls you under. But Lando’s hand remains wrapped firmly in yours until morning.
A strong bond has formed between the three of you. And you know that whatever the future brings, you’ll be facing it together.
***
A few weeks after the scare, you’re finishing paperwork at your desk when your cell rings. Lando’s name pops up, making you smile.
Since the hospitalization, you and Lando have fallen into a routine of near daily calls and texts about Georgia. You don’t mind at all — you adore hearing the latest antics and milestones of your special little patient. Not to mention Lando’s voice tends to brighten your day.
You answer warmly. “Lando! How are my favorite patients today?”
He chuckles. “Well, Georgia just mastered holding her head up while on her tummy. She’s getting so strong! But uh, that’s actually why I’m calling ...”
You detect the hesitancy in his tone. “What’s up?”
Lando sighs. “So McLaren just sprung a mandatory sponsorship meeting on me last minute. It’s in like an hour. I don’t have any childcare lined up though.”
You frown sympathetically. The demands of Lando’s career often collide with new parenthood. “Oh no. Can you reschedule or bring Georgia with you?”
“I tried, but it’s impossible to postpone. And definitely not an ideal environment for a baby,” he laments. “I don’t have any family nearby and my usual nanny said it’s too short notice.”
Your thoughts race, heart sinking at imagining his distress. “Hmm. Well, do you happen to have any trusted neighbors or friends there who could babysit?”
Lando makes a frustrated noise. “I’ve barely met my neighbors. And my mates, well, most are even less qualified than me for childcare. I’m stuck.” Defeat colors his tone.
You bite your lip, hesitating only a moment before saying gently, “Lando, I could come watch her.”
“What? Really?” He sounds stunned. “But isn’t it your day off?”
“It’s no problem, truly,” you insist. “I don’t live far. Be there in fifteen?”
“I-I don’t know what to say. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N. Thank you, thank you!” Lando gushes gratefully.
You smile, already grabbing your keys. “Anytime. See you soon!”
On the drive over, butterflies flutter in your stomach. You adore Georgia, of course. But something about visiting Lando’s home, being fully immersed in his world, feels monumentally intimate.
Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that your priority is helping a friend in need.
You park outside Lando’s sleek modern condo building and take the elevator up after checking in with the concierge. Before you can even knock, the front door swings open.
“Y/N, thank god,” Lando sighs in relief. He looks unfairly attractive despite being slightly disheveled in a dress shirt and slacks. “Please, come in.”
Stepping inside the open concept condo, your eyes sweep over minimalist furniture and racing memorabilia decorating the shelves. Cozy baby items like a playmat and bouncer provide stark contrast. It’s uniquely Lando.
“Nice place,” you remark sincerely.
“Thanks. Still feels empty sometimes, but slowly making it a home for Gigi.” He smiles softly. “Speaking of which ...”
You follow Lando down a short hallway to the nursery. Your heart melts at the sight of Georgia kicking on a playmat, wearing a pink romper with a giant bow.
Lando swoops her up, blowing raspberries on her cheek. “Daddy’s got a big important meeting, princess. But Y/N is going to play with you instead.”
He passes the baby over. Georgia gives you a gummy smile, cooing.
“There’s my sweet girl.” You tickle her belly, eliciting a giggle. Lando beams proudly.
“Alright, her bottle is prepped in the fridge, and there’s clean nappies on the change table. Call if you need anything at all.”
Lando leans down to kiss Georgia’s head. “Be good for Y/N, monkey.”
With a final grateful smile your way, he heads out. You settle on the nursery floor with Georgia. “What adventures shall we have today, miss?”
The next few hours pass in a blur of playing, feeding, changing, and rocking little Georgia. You even manage a nap time by singing softly, something that always seemed to soothe her in the hospital.
Watching her sleep, you feel a rush of tenderness for the tiny being who has depended on you since her first moments. You vow to always be there when Lando and Georgia need you.
Soon enough, Lando returns home looking drained. But his whole face lights up seeing you and Georgia on the floor.
“How’d it go?” He asks, crouching down to tickle her toes.
“Perfect. We had lots of fun, isn’t that right, lovebug?” You hand the baby over for cuddles.
“Daddy missed you.” Lando nuzzles Georgia, before giving you a grateful smile. “I can’t thank you enough. Truly. You’re a natural with her.”
You wave off his praise, but can’t deny the warm spark his words ignite.
After chatting a bit more about Georgia’s afternoon and Lando’s meeting, it’s time for you to head out.
At the door, Lando halts you with a gentle hand on your wrist.
“Hey, let me take you to dinner this week — a proper thank you,” he entreats. “Anywhere you like.”
Your pulse quickens. It sounds suspiciously close to a date. But Lando’s smiling hopefully, and you find yourself nodding before overthinking it.
“I’d love that.”
Lando grins, looking both relieved and excited. “Brilliant! I’ll text you details. Have a safe drive home.”
Strapping into your car, your thoughts race wildly. This man and his daughter have captured your heart. What started as a professional duty has grown into so much more.
As you drive away, Lando and Georgia waving from the window, you can’t keep the giddy smile off your face.
Your lives are intertwining in the most marvelous ways. And you can’t wait to see what adventures are in store next.
***
The following Saturday evening, you stand in front of the mirror, fussing with your hair and makeup. Glancing at the clock, you feel butterflies swarming. Lando will arrive any minute to pick you up for dinner.
You smooth non-existent wrinkles from your knee-length black dress. It’s daringly low cut for you, but you want to feel beautiful tonight.
A buzz from your phone makes you jolt. Lando is here! Taking a deep breath, you grab your purse and hurry downstairs.
Stepping outside your apartment building, you freeze in awe. Gleaming in the golden hour sunlight is a sleek dark blue vintage supercar unlike any other you’ve seen before.
The driver door opens, and Lando steps out looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored suit. He beams. “Wow, Y/N. You look absolutely stunning.”
You blush at the sincerity in his warm gaze. “Thank you. This is … quite the car!”
Lando grins, patting the hood affectionately. “She’s my baby — a Lamborghini Miura. Isn’t she a beauty?”
You take in the aerodynamic lines and what you can only assume is a very powerful engine. “Gorgeous. And probably costs more than my yearly income.”
Lando laughs. “But she’s perfect for impressing a lovely date.” He winks before opening the passenger door for you.
You carefully climb in, hyper aware of the tiny black dress riding up your thighs. Lando’s eyes trace your legs appreciatively as you smooth your skirt.
Soon you’re zipping through the seaside city, wind whipping your hair through the open windows. Lando navigates the roads expertly.
He glances your way. “Hope this is alright! Wanted to take the fun car out while the weather holds up.”
You grin at him. “Are you kidding? I feel like a movie star!”
He looks delighted, picking up speed as you both relax into the ride.
Before long, you pull up at the legendary Hotel de Paris Monte-Carlo. A uniformed valet opens your door. Taking the proffered hand, you step out feeling like a princess.
Lando offers his arm. “Shall we?”
Inside the opulent restaurant, you’re quickly shown to an intimate table beside a window overlooking the glittering Mediterranean sea. Soft piano music fills the space.
“Lando, this is incredible,” you breathe, taking it all in.
He smiles, eyes never leaving your face. “Only the best for you.”
You blush again at his sincerity. A waiter appears to take your drink order. When you request just water, Lando insists you pick any wine on the menu.
You settle on a creamy chardonnay that pairs perfectly with your scallops and Lando’s steak. Thoughtful touches like him pulling out your chair or refilling your wine glass make the lavish meal all the more special.
The conversation flows effortlessly from racing to traveling to favourite films and music. More than once, Lando’s foot brushes yours beneath the table, sending sparks skittering across your skin.
After dessert, you both linger over coffee, hands unconsciously joined on the pristine tablecloth between you. The connection humming between you feels profound.
When Lando finally checks his watch with a reluctant sigh, you’re surprised to see you’ve been there for over three hours. It felt like mere minutes.
On the drive back, you steal glances at his sharp profile in the fading light. Joy bubbles inside you. The evening exceeded your wildest expectations.
Too soon, you’re pulling up outside your building. Lando hurries around to open your door, ever the gentleman. Clasping his hand, you step out onto the curb together.
Turning, you find him watching you closely. “I had the most wonderful time tonight,” you say sincerely.
Lando’s face breaks into a grin. “Truly magical. Thank you for coming, Y/N.” He squeezes your hand, thumb tracing delicate circles.
On impulse, you lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, Lando.”
With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk inside, casting a coy look back to see him touching his cheek in wonder.
Safely in your apartment, you kick off your heels, collapsing onto the sofa with a giddy smile. The evening played in your mind like a movie — the fancy car, exquisite dinner, effortless conversation. And that powerful connection with Lando blossoming into something new and tender.
What started as a professional relationship has organically grown into a deep friendship over your shared love of little Georgia. But tonight awoke a yearning for more. You sensed the same from Lando in the way he looked at you — with affection, wonder, and desire.
You drift off on the couch still reliving each vivid moment. This feels like the start of something life changing.
Meanwhile, Lando remains fixed outside your building, fingers brushing the spot your lips graced. The soft press seared an imprint deep within him.
People had warned him pursuing anything romantic with Georgia’s physician was unwise. But from the instant he saw you holding his fragile newborn girl, instinct told him you were special. That only grew each day as your compassion and devotion soothed his frightened heart.
Tonight confirmed what he felt blooming for weeks now — he’s completely enchanted by you.
With your laughter still echoing in his mind, Lando finally drives off into the night. He knows his future, wherever it leads, must have you and Georgia in it. He’s falling, fast and hard.
And for once, recklessly chasing his heart feels entirely right. He just hopes you’ll take this leap with him.
***
On a sunny afternoon, you’re sitting cross-legged on Lando’s living room rug playing with Georgia. At nearly four months old now, she’s mastered rolling over and absolutely loves tummy time.
You grin as she determinedly pushes up on her hands, rocking back and forth. “That’s it, clever girl! You’ve almost got it.”
Georgia gives you a gummy smile before toppling over with a huff. Behind you, Lando chuckles from the couch where he’s on hold with a takeaway place.
“I swear she gets more stubborn every day. Definitely takes after me,” he remarks fondly.
You smile. “She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to work for it. Sound familiar?”
Lando laughs. “Too right. At this rate, she’ll be racing cars herself soon.”
You’re about to respond when the sound of the front door opening makes you both freeze. Before you can react, an accented female voice calls out excitedly.
“Lando, darling! Surprise, we’ve come to visit!”
Lando flies off the couch just as his parents round the corner. “Mum! Dad! What are you doing here?”
He embraces them both tightly while you hover awkwardly behind Georgia. What must Lando’s family think finding a strange woman playing with their grandchild?
But before you can open your mouth to explain, Lando’s mum spots you. Her face lights up. “Y/N! How wonderful to finally meet you in person!”
To your shock, she swoops down and hugs you like a long lost relative. Bewildered, you return the embrace.
Over her shoulder, Lando rubs his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I may have told them a fair bit about you and Gigi ...”
His father approaches next, politely shaking your hand. “Lando speaks very highly of you, Y/N. Thank you for taking such good care of our boy and the little one.”
“Oh, um, of course!” You manage to stammer out. Lando mentioned you to his parents? The thought makes your heart flutter wildly.
Before you can dwell on it, Georgia lets out an impatient shriek from her abandoned tummy time.
Cisca gasps, immediately scooping her up. “Oh my goodness, look how big you’ve gotten, baby girl!” She tickles Georgia’s belly, eliciting sweet giggles.
Lando smiles softly at the sight. You feel privileged to witness this intimate family moment.
Soon you’re all seated around the living room, chatting comfortably. Adam keeps throwing not-so-subtle winks Lando’s way whenever you and Cisca fawn over Georgia together. Lando just shakes his head, cheeks slightly flushed.
Later, his parents insist on taking you both out to dinner at a nice restaurant. Over the meal, you observe how Cisca’s animated mannerisms and Adam’s dry wit remind you so much of Lando. He clearly inherited the best of both.
Walking back to the car afterwards, Cisca links her arm through yours fondly. “I’m just thrilled Lando has you looking after him and little Georgia. It takes a very special woman to so selflessly love and support someone else’s child.”
You squeeze her arm, touched. “Well, they make it easy. I’d do anything for those two.”
Cisca pats your hand knowingly. “I can see that, dear. Don’t ever let my son take that for granted.”
Glancing ahead, you watch Lando swinging a sleepy Georgia in his arms, gazing down at her with pure adoration. Your heart clenches.
“I don’t think that’s possible. He’s the most devoted father imaginable,” you reply softly.
Cisca follows your gaze, smiling. “He is at that. Just like his own.”
Adam wraps an arm around his wife, kissing her temple. Cisca leans into him with a contented sigh. Their easy intimacy and abiding love is relationship goals.
You find yourself sneaking another peek at Lando, imagining strolling arm in arm like that one day. But it’s too soon for such daydreams.
Still, meeting his wonderful parents today, seeing how he talks about you … it feels like things are shifting into place.
That night, as Lando walks you to your car, he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Thank you again for today. You were brilliant with my parents — they’re absolutely smitten.”
You grin. “They’re lovely. I see where you get it from.”
Lando rolls his eyes but smiles bashfully. An impulse has you leaning in to kiss his cheek.
“Goodnight, Lando.” With a little wave, you slip into your car before he can respond.
But the awestruck look on Lando’s face stays with you the whole drive home. Something big is on the horizon, you can feel it.
And if the way his family embraced you today is any indication, you have their full support too. You’ve never been more excited about what the future holds.
***
A few days later, you’re rushing around your apartment getting ready. Lando invited you over for dinner and a movie tonight while his parents watch Georgia. You’ve been looking forward to the rare child-free evening all week.
After debating outfit options, you decide on form fitting jeans and a silky camisole. Casual yet flirty. Dabbing on a bit of perfume, you check yourself in the mirror. You want to knock his socks off.
Precisely at six, your phone chimes with a text from Lando that he’s waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, you go meet him.
As expected, he looks effortlessly handsome leaning against his flashy car grinning at you. “Well don’t you look gorgeous tonight,” he remarks, opening your door.
You smirk, settling into the low seat. “Not looking too bad yourself, Mr. Norris.”
Lando just winks before speeding off into the golden hour sunlight. You chat easily throughout the short drive about your days apart. When you mention missing Georgia, Lando smiles softly.
“Me too, constantly. But she’s in great hands with my parents tonight.” Reaching over, he gives your hand an affectionate squeeze that makes your heart race.
Soon you pull up outside Lando’s sleek condo building. He leads you upstairs, fingers entwined.
Inside, mouthwatering aromas fill the air. You follow Lando to the kitchen where pots bubble away on the stove.
“I hope you’re hungry. My dad’s recipe for chicken curry.” Lando stirs one of the pots before glancing at you shyly. “I may have been practicing all week.”
You grin, touched that he went to such effort. “It smells incredible! I didn’t know you could cook.”
“Full of surprises.” Lando winks. “Now you just relax while I finish up.”
You perch at the kitchen island while Lando works. The domesticity of it all makes your chest feel warm. You could definitely get used to this.
Soon dinner is served along with a crisp white wine. You compliment Lando between bites, making him preen. Everything is delicious.
Over dessert, your feet become entangled beneath the small table. The simmering looks passing between you leave no doubt this is a date.
With dishes cleared, Lando leads you to the living room. “Now, the entertainment portion of the evening.” He gestures grandly towards the large TV.
You settle onto the plush grey sectional while Lando queues up your chosen rom-com. Before pressing play, he pauses.
“Do you maybe want to get more comfortable?” He gestures to the blanket and abundance of throw pillows nearby.
You smile, touched at how he’s trying to create a cozy movie watching environment. “That sounds perfect.”
Working together, you both strip down to t-shirts and lounge pants, then arrange the pillows and blankets into a comfy nest. Your heart races at the intimacy of it all.
Lando opens his arms for you to curl against his chest. You sigh, breathing in his comforting scent. His steady heartbeat thrums beneath your ear as the movie starts.
About halfway through, you glance up to see Lando staring down at you tenderly, movie forgotten. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, fingers trailing down to tilt your chin up. Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in as his lips meet yours in a soft, lingering kiss.
Everything around you fades away. The only sensation is Lando’s gentle lips moving with yours, laced with warmth and affection.
When you finally break apart, faces lingering close, he exhales shakily. “Wow. That was ...”
“Perfect,” you whisper, caressing his stubbled cheek. Lando nuzzles into your touch.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he admits with a crooked smile.
You grin. “What took you so long?”
Lando laughs, pulling you closer again. Your lips find their way back together naturally. With your legs entwined and his hand trailing up and down your back, you lose all track of time and space.
Eventually you pull back just to catch your breath, lips pleasantly swollen. Lando strokes your hair tenderly.
“Y/N, you must know by now how truly special you are to me. From the moment we met, I felt fate bringing us together. And I never want to let you go.” His eyes search yours intently.
Your pulse quickens. “Lando ...”
“What I’m trying to say is ...” He takes a deep breath. “Will you be my girlfriend? Officially?”
Joy erupts inside you as you throw your arms around his neck. “Yes, I’d love nothing more!”
Lando’s delighted laughter vibrates against you as he squeezes you tight. You stay locked in an embrace, trading giddy kisses until sleepiness inevitably sets in.
Lando carries you to bed, tucking you both under the covers with your head pillowed on his chest. You drift off smiling, his steady heartbeat your lullaby.
Waking wrapped in Lando’s arms the next morning feels like pure bliss. He stirs, blinking awake to see you watching him fondly.
“Morning, beautiful.” Lando caresses your cheek before capturing your lips in a tender good morning kiss.
You hum contentedly. “I could get very used to this.”
“Well luckily, you’re my girlfriend now. So you’re stuck with me.” He grins playfully.
You snuggle impossibly closer. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”
***
On a sunny spring morning, you’re in Lando’s kitchen pureeing some bananas for Georgia’s breakfast. At nearly one year old now, she’s mastered eating soft finger foods.
Lando wanders in with Georgia propped on his hip, her dark curls tied up in adorable pigtails. “Someone’s ready for her breakfast!”
You grin, smoothing Georgia’s hair back to kiss her chubby cheek. “Morning, my darling! Got your bananas all ready.”
Lando settles Georgia into her high chair, handing you her baby spoon shaped like a rabbit. “Not sure who’s more excited about mealtimes now, her or me,” he jokes.
You laugh. “Gotta get our girl fed so she has energy to get into everything!”
Georgia bangs her hands impatiently on the tray until you scoop up a spoonful of bananas. “Alright, here comes the Formula 1 car!”
You zoom the spoon around playfully before popping it in her mouth. Georgia squeals in delight, kicking her little feet.
Lando leans against the counter smiling as you continue taking turns feeding her. When the last bites are finished, he grabs a washcloth to wipe Georgia’s sticky face and hands.
“Who’s my big girl eating like such a pro?” He coos, tickling her belly. Georgia dissolves into adorable giggles.
Setting the washcloth down, Lando brushes a stray banana strand from her hair. “You’re the sweetest, most beautiful girl in the whole world. Yes you are!”
Georgia beams up at him, waving her hands excitedly. Then clear as day, she exclaims “Mama!”
You freeze in shock. Did she just ...
Lando’s eyes fly to yours, equally stunned. An awkward tension instantly permeates the room.
“I-I never encouraged that, I swear,” Lando rushes to explain, panicked. “I always call you by name when I talk about you to her.”
“No no, of course, I didn’t think-” You halt, flustered. “I would never try to make her call me ...” You can’t even say it, heart pounding wildly.
A heavy silence falls. You avert your eyes, anxiously twisting the washcloth between your hands.
Lando scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why she ...” He trails off helplessly.
After a long pause, Lando touches your arm gently. “Hey, look at me?”
You reluctantly meet his earnest gaze. Lando takes your hands in his, tone serious.
“Y/N, you must know how much I respect your role in Georgia’s life. We’re partners in this, fully. I would never try to force a maternal label on you.”
His obvious sincerity makes you instantly relax. Offering a small smile, you squeeze his hands.
“Of course. I didn’t think that. It just took me by surprise is all.” You take a deep breath before continuing hesitantly.
“But, well … the idea of Georgia seeing me that way doesn’t scare me. Not if it happens naturally.” You chance a glance at Lando through your lashes.
His eyes soften. “Truly?” At your shy nod, a smile spreads across his face.
“Because, well, I was thinking the same.” Lando cradles your face between his palms. “You already are a mum to her in every way that matters.”
You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Joy and relief flood your system.
Georgia makes an impatient noise, breaking the tender spell. You both chuckle.
Lando lifts her from the chair into his arms. “Don’t worry princess, your mama isn’t going anywhere.”
Hearing those words from Lando sends your heart soaring. You join the cuddle, Georgia nestled happily between you.
“Our sweet girl,” Lando murmurs, meeting your gaze over her little head. The pure love reflected back at you erases any lingering doubts.
You place a soft kiss to Georgia’s curls, then lean up to capture Lando’s lips. The promise of your future together never felt stronger.
Many more milestones await, for Georgia and your relationship both. But you know without question that the bonds between you three will only continue growing deeper.
Of all the twists and turns on this journey, your little family is the sweetest gift of all.
***
The day of the Monaco Grand Prix dawns bright and clear. You finish braiding Georgia’s hair as she babbles happily. At 18 months old now, her vocabulary expands daily.
“There we go, pretty girl! All set to cheer on Daddy!”
Georgia grins. “Dada race!”
You smile, smoothing her dress. “That’s right, darling!”
A knock sounds right before Lando pokes his head into the nursery. “My two favorite girls about ready?”
Scooping up Georgia, you turn so he can admire her race day outfit. “Well don’t we look beautiful!” Lando tickles Georgia’s tummy before pulling you both into a hug.
“I can’t tell you how much it means to have you both here today,” he says softly.
You squeeze him tight. As a pediatrician, getting full weekends off for races proved nearly impossible. But for Monaco, you moved mountains.
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you assure him. Lando’s responding smile warms your heart.
The energy at the track is electric. Georgia’s eyes widen taking in all the sights and sounds. You carry her through the paddock towards the McLaren garage, Lando greeting various people along the way.
Inside, Lando steals a quick kiss. “I better go get suited up. See you after?”
You nod, adjusting a squirmy Georgia on your hip. “We’ll be cheering the loudest!”
Lando changes into his race suit, then leads you both over to his car. Georgia is mesmerized, reaching a tiny hand towards the shiny machine.
“That’s right munchkin, this is what Daddy drives!” Lando points out key features, then grabs a helmet from a crew member.
“Want to try it on?” Not waiting for an answer, Lando gently fits the helmet over Georgia’s curls. She immediately shrieks in delight.
Laughing, Lando scoops her up, zooming her around like she’s driving. “Look at you, a future champion in the making!”
You snap some photos of the adorable scene until it’s time for Lando to go off with his performance coach. After one last kiss for both of you, he disappears into the controlled pre-race chaos.
An assistant escorts you to the McLaren hospitality suite overlooking the pit lane. The view of the gleaming harbor and yachts reminds you this race is unlike anywhere else.
As start time nears, you cuddle a restless Georgia close, pointing out Lando’s car lined up on the grid. “See? There’s Daddy! He’s about to go racing.” Her little brow furrows, not quite understanding.
When the lights go out, Georgia startles at the loud roar of engines. Rubbing her back soothingly, you keep your eyes glued to the screen as the cars hurtle towards the tight first corner bottleneck.
“Come on Lando,” you murmur under your breath. He emerges from the chaos in 4th position. Off to a promising start.
Over the next 90 minutes, you fluctuate between pure elation and anxiety as the race unfolds. A collision forces Lando to pit unexpectedly. Just as your heart rate settles, another car spins right in front of him, spraying debris across the track.
But Lando holds his nerve, keeping the car under control to cross the line in P3. You leap up, cheering loudly with Georgia.
Soon Lando emerges, hair damp from the obligatory champagne shower.
His race suit is unzipped to the waist as he sweeps you both into an exuberant hug. “You did so good,” you murmur into his neck. Pulling back, Lando caresses Georgia’s head where it rests heavily on your shoulder.
“Little one tuckered herself out cheering for Daddy, hmm?” He takes her gently as she nuzzles into his chest with a yawn.
“Let’s get my best girls home.” With Georgia cradled in one arm and the other around your waist, Lando leads you out of the paddock like a proud family man. Your heart feels fit to burst.
That night after Georgia is tucked into bed, you curl up together on the couch. The TV plays highlights of the race you lived firsthand.
Lando absently strokes your hair. “You know, the lads invited me out to celebrate tonight.”
You lift your head. “Oh really? You should go have fun!”
But Lando just smiles, pulling you closer. “And miss this? Not a chance.” He kisses you tenderly. “Partying in Monaco holds nothing on being with my two favorite people.”
You kiss him again, touched. However far Lando’s career takes him, you know his heart will remain right here with you and Georgia.
***
Summer finally arrives, bringing a short respite between races for Lando. Eager to make the most of it, you suggest visiting your hometown to introduce him and Georgia to your parents.
“They’d love to finally meet you both,” you say over breakfast one morning.
Lando smiles, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “That sounds brilliant, love. I can’t wait to see where you grew up.”
You grin excitedly. “It’s nothing glamorous like Monaco. But I have so many good memories there.”
With plans made, you set off early one sunny Saturday morning, boarding a flight with Georgia securely buckled into her carrier. She babbles happily for most of the flight, enchanted by the clouds and miniature landscape passing below. Lando keeps one hand firmly clasped in yours the entire time.
Late afternoon, you finally pull up outside the cozy house you grew up in. Taking a deep breath, you unbuckle a sleepy Georgia from her seat.
“We’re here, Gigi! Ready to meet Grandma and Grandpa?”
She rubs her eyes with a tiny fist, still drowsy. Lando comes around to lift her into his arms.
“Someone’s a bit tired from all the traveling, huh? Maybe a quick nap first?” He kisses Georgia’s fuzzy head as she snuggles into his shoulder.
You nod, smoothing down her rumpled sundress. Taking Lando’s free hand, you head up the front walk.
Before you can even knock, the front door swings open. Your mum stands beaming at the threshold.
“Y/N! Oh, let me see her!” She sweeps you into a tight hug before immediately cooing over a now awake Georgia. “What an absolute darling!”
You grin. “Mom, meet your granddaughter, Georgia.” Saying it out loud sends a little thrill through you.
Your mother gently strokes Georgia’s dark curls. “Look at all this beautiful hair! Those eyes are all her daddy though.” She smiles warmly at Lando.
“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Lando says politely, shaking her extended hand.
“Oh please, call me Y/M/N! Now come in, come in!” She ushers you both inside the familiar cozy house.
Your dad appears from his office to exchange hearty handshakes and hugs. Lando looks slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiastic welcome.
Sensing this, you squeeze his arm reassuringly. “Why don’t I put Georgia down for her nap? You guys chat.”
Lando shoots you a grateful smile. You disappear down the hall to your childhood bedroom, now converted to a cozy nursery space. Georgia is out like a light before you’ve even finished tucking her in.
Returning to the living room, you pause in the doorway, heart swelling at the scene. Lando sits between your parents on the sofa as they animatedly show him your baby photos. His eyes shine taking it all in. This is the sense of family he’s long craved.
Eventually Georgia wakes, cranky and clingy. You scoop her up, breathing in that sweet baby scent as you rub her back.
“I know, lots of new things happening today. But you’re being so brave.” Dropping a kiss to her curls, you return to the living room.
Your mother immediately reaches for Georgia, who goes willingly into her arms. “Come sit with Grandma, sweetheart.”
Settling on the couch between your parents again, Lando slips an arm around your shoulders. Georgia babbles happily from your mother’s lap.
The rest of the day passes comfortably as your parents dote on their new granddaughter. Watching your mom help Georgia toddle around the yard, your dad pushing her on the tree swing, Lando’s arm stays wrapped securely around you.
That night after Georgia is down, you find Lando out on the back porch gazing up at the stars. You join him on the steps, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“You okay?”
Lando looks down at you with a soft smile. “More than. Today was really special.”
He brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Seeing how your parents just immediately welcomed us into the family … it means everything. I never expected to find this.” His voice turns thick with emotion.
You lift your head to meet his sincere gaze, heart brimming over. No words needed, you convey it all in a tender kiss.
When you eventually pull apart, foreheads touching, Lando exhales shakily. “Being here with you and Gigi, it just feels so right. Like we were always meant to be a family.”
Joyful tears prick your eyes hearing him voice the same feeling living inside you. You cradle his face gently.
“We were, Lando. From that very first day in the hospital, I knew fate brought us together for a reason.”
Lando’s responding smile could outshine the moon and stars overhead. He kisses you again, soft and unhurried, arms encircling you on that familiar back porch.
***
Two years to the day after that fateful first meeting, you’re finishing rounds in the maternity ward when your supervisor requests you in her office. Brow furrowed, you make your way down the hall and knock lightly.
“Come in!”
You step inside to find her beaming behind her desk. “Y/N! Please, have a seat.”
Perplexed, you settle into the plush chair across from her. “Is everything okay?”
“Better than okay, I’d say.” She grins and slides an official document across the desk towards you. “Take a look at this.”
You scan the letter, eyes widening. It’s a notice of a 250,000 euro donation to the hospital’s maternity ward and nursery … made in your name.
“What? This must be a mistake, I didn’t ...” You trail off, completely baffled.
Your supervisor laughs. “Oh it’s quite real, I assure you. In fact, the donor himself insisted on being here today to celebrate.”
Before you can respond, a knock sounds. You turn to see Lando stroll in, right on cue, with a grinning Georgia perched on his hip.
“Lando!” You gasp. “Did you … is this from you?”
He smiles almost shyly, setting Georgia down so she can toddle over to you. “Wanted to do something meaningful to mark the anniversary of when we first met.”
You stand frozen in shock as Georgia crashes into your legs. Scooping her up, you turn back to Lando with tears in your eyes.
“This is too much, I … I don’t know what to say.” You glance between him and your equally emotional supervisor.
Lando moves closer, taking your hands in his. “Say you’ll come with me for a proper celebration? Just the three of us?” He brushes his thumbs over your knuckles, eyes twinkling.
Unable to form words, you simply nod. Lando’s face lights up with that smile that still makes your heart skip.
After signing some paperwork and hugging your supervisor profusely, you allow Lando to lead you out to the car, Georgia babbling happily between you. But instead of heading home, he drives to the glittering harbor front.
There, you gasp to see a magnificent yacht floating ready at the dock. A crew in crisp white uniforms wait nearby.
Lando grins at your stunned reaction. “Told you we’re celebrating in style today!”
The staff smiles warmly as you board, cooing over Georgia toddling around excitedly. She especially loves watching the foam trail behind the yacht as it pulls away from shore.
You stand wrapped in Lando’s arms, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I still can’t believe you did all this,” you murmur.
Lando presses a kiss to your temple. “You deserve it all and more, my love.”
You pass a blissful afternoon on the water, enjoying a gourmet lunch and each other’s company. Lando is attentive as ever, making sure you want for nothing.
As the sun dips low, a crew member approaches. “So sorry to interrupt, but we’ll be arriving shortly. Please follow me downstairs to prepare.”
You glance questioningly at Lando, but he just smiles and urges you to follow with Georgia. Down in your luxurious cabin, an elegant evening gown awaits on the bed alongside a tiny version for Georgia.
Your heart flutters wildly now. Lando is clearly planning something major. You help Georgia into her dress, your hands shaking slightly with anticipation.
A knock at the door announces the crew member has returned. “We’ve arrived back at port, whenever you’re ready.”
Back up top, Lando stands waiting in a sharp suit, holding a bouquet of roses. He looks devastatingly handsome.
Taking your hand, he leads you down the gangplank onto the dock where a car waits to whisk you away into the hills overlooking the sea. The sunset bathes everything in golden light.
When the car stops at a secluded lookout point, Lando helps you out then retrieves a sleepy Georgia. Hand in hand, you approach the cliff edge.
Down below, a massive light display flashes to life along the shoreline. You gasp as the glowing words become clear:
Y/N, will you marry me?
You clap a hand over your mouth, spinning to Lando with tears pooling in your eyes. He’s down on one knee, Georgia sitting next to him playing with flower petals.
“Two years ago, you came into our lives and changed everything,” Lando begins emotionally. “Your compassion and selflessness as a doctor saved my fragile new family.”
He takes a shaky breath. “But you gave me so much more than that. Your kindness, your beauty inside and out, your incredible love for me and Georgia … you’re my dream come true.”
Tears spill freely down your cheeks as Lando pulls out a glittering diamond ring. “So Y/N Y/L/N, nothing would make me happier than for you to officially become my family. Will you marry me?”
A joyful sob escapes you as you sink down, throwing your arms around him. “Yes, Lando, a million times yes!”
His relieved laughter vibrates against you. When you pull back, Lando takes your hand gently to slide the exquisite ring onto your finger. A perfect fit.
Georgia seems to sense the significance of the moment and toddles over to wrap her little arms around your legs. You lift her into a fierce hug between you.
“I love you both so very much,” you whisper emotionally. Lando’s responding smile outshines the luminous lights along the shore.
Cradling your faces in his hands, he seals his proposal with the sweetest kiss as the sunset fades to twilight.
You linger wrapped in Lando’s arms, Georgia nestled between you, as the first stars emerge overhead. Right here, surrounded by your little family, you’ve never felt happier or more at peace.
It’s extraordinary what two short years can bring — unexpected joy, profound purpose, and a love greater than you dared dream.
The brightest days are still ahead. But tonight, in this perfect moment, you know you’ve already found everything you’ll ever need.
***
The day of your wedding to Lando dawns bright and sunny — perfect weather for an outdoor ceremony overlooking the glittering Mediterranean sea.
Inside the bridal suite, your mother puts the final pins in your elegant updo while your bridesmaids fuss over the train of your lace gown.
A knock at the door announces your father’s arrival. When you turn to face him in your wedding finery, his eyes well up.
“Oh sweetheart … you look absolutely beautiful.”
You immediately tear up too, embracing him tightly. “Don’t make me ruin my makeup before I’ve even walked down the aisle!”
He laughs wetly, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Couldn’t help it! My girl is all grown up.”
Looking in the mirror, you hardly recognize yourself in the exquisite dress and pinned-back curls. But the overwhelmed bride staring back has the same little girl dreams you harbored all those years ago. Dreams that are finally coming true today.
Another quick knock precedes Georgia toddling in, chubby legs pumping. Your flower girl is absolutely angelic in her silky dress.
“Mama, pwetty!” She declares, rushing over for cuddles. You scoop her up, breathing in that sweet baby scent you adore.
“You look so beautiful, my love.” Blinking back fresh tears, you smooth down her unruly curls. “Ready to walk down the aisle with flowers?”
Georgia just grins and reaches for your necklace. You tickle her belly, making her dissolve into adorable giggles. Your heart swells with love for your daughter.
Too soon, the wedding coordinator is poking her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s just about time!”
Butterflies erupt as everyone hustles to line up. Your father tucks your arm through his, beaming with pride. Just outside the doors, Georgia toddles down the petal-strewn aisle ahead of you both.
Then the soaring orchestral processional begins, and you step out into the golden afternoon sunlight. Gasps and murmurs rise at the sight of your dramatic gown trailing behind.
But your eyes lock instantly on Lando under the flower-woven arch, looking devastatingly handsome in his slate grey suit. His face lights up, and you know that your own mirrors the same wonder and joy.
The ceremony passes in a blur of emotions. Before you know it, the officiant instructs you and Lando to face each other and take hands. Time for the vows.
You go first, hands shaking as you pull out your prepared words. But speaking from the heart comes easily.
“Lando, when we first met under the most unexpected circumstances, I had no idea of the amazing journey we’d go on together. My job was to ensure your new daughter received the care she deserved.”
Your voice wavers slightly. “But so quickly, you both became so much more. Being welcomed into your family was the greatest gift. Watching Georgia grow, guiding her first steps and words ...”
You have to pause, blinking back more tears. Lando squeezes your hands encouragingly.
Composing yourself, you continue thickly, “I vow to always provide that same nurturing love and support. I promise to be your safe place to call home after long days apart. And I pledge to show our daughter daily what it means to be a strong, compassionate woman.”
Taking a shaky breath, you finish softly, “You two are my entire world. Loving you is life’s greatest joy.”
Lando’s eyes glisten as he brushes away the single tear trailing down your cheek. His thumbs linger, cradling your face tenderly.
Clearing his throat, he begins his own vows, voice wavering with emotion. “Y/N, you appeared in my life like an angel that frightening day at the hospital. I was so lost, overwhelmed by the massive responsibility of suddenly having Georgia.”
He glances down at your joined hands. “But your compassion and wisdom guided me through those uncertain early days. You made us feel safe.”
Looking up, his eyes pierce yours intensely. “What started as our doctor-patient relationship grew into the most important friendship I’ve ever known. And then, miraculously, into true, deep love. Thank you for loving Georgia as your own and showing me what true partnership means.”
Lando’s voice cracks. He pauses to take a shaky breath. “So I vow to spend every day reciprocating that love and support. I promise to shield you from the chaos of my world and provide a peaceful home for our family.”
Then he turns, taking a folded paper from the best man. “I asked Georgia if she wanted to say anything to her mama today.”
He opens it to reveal a drawing of three stick figures, one much smaller than the others. Scribbled hearts surround you all.
Lando’s voice thickens. “She said to tell you she loves you ‘this much’ and that you’re the best mama ever.”
A sob escapes you as Lando refolds the cherished drawing and hands it over. You press it to your heart, blinking back a fresh wave of tears.
Finally, you slip the wedding bands onto each other’s fingers with whispered words of eternal love and commitment.
When the officiant pronounces you husband and wife, Lando sweeps you into his arms for the kind of kiss that steals your breath and stops time.
You are finally, officially, wholeheartedly one.
The reception flies by in more happy tears, moving speeches, delicious food, and dancing under the stars. Watching Lando twirl Georgia around the floor tugs at your heart.
Later, as you slow dance wrapped in your new husband’s arms, Lando kisses your hair and whispers, “Ready for this new adventure together, Dr. Y/L/N-Norris?”
You beam up at him. “Absolutely. Lead the way, Mr. Norris.”
No matter where life takes you next on this journey, your family will thrive and grow stronger. Lando’s love lifts you up in ways you never imagined possible. And you vow to cherish and repay that gift until your last breath.
***
Returning home from a blissful honeymoon, you settle back into domestic life with Lando and Georgia. Mornings are spent over pancakes, playing hide and seek, and dancing around the living room. The pure joy of your little family never ceases to warm your heart.
One evening after putting Georgia to bed, you curl up with Lando on the couch and hesitantly broach something you’ve been thinking about.
“So I wanted to discuss something with you. It’s just an idea, and please don’t feel pressured at all.” You take a deep breath. “What would you think about me officially adopting Gigi?”
Lando’s eyes widen in surprise. You rush to continue explaining.
“I don’t want you to think I need a piece of paper to love her with my whole heart, because I already do. More than anything in this world.” Your voice cracks slightly.
Reaching out, you grasp his hands. “I just want to make sure that no matter what, I have a legal right to take care of her. But only if you’re completely comfortable with it!”
Lando is quiet for a long moment, studying your anxious face. Then a smile spreads across his face. “Love, I think it’s a beautiful idea.”
You sag in relief. “Truly? I wasn’t sure if it was too much ...”
Lando silences you with a tender kiss. “Gigi is the luckiest girl in the world to have you as her mum. I want the whole world to know that too.”
Tears prick your eyes as Lando caresses your cheek. “The day you promised to love Georgia as your own was the moment I knew you were different. I see how you are with her — the time, the care, the unconditional love ...” His voice cracks slightly.
“You gave us the greatest gift. I want you to have the same security that she’ll always be yours.”
A single tear traces down your cheek. Lando brushes it away gently before drawing you into his arms. You cling to him, heart overflowing with love and gratitude.
When you finally pull back, Lando is dabbing at his own eyes. “So,” he says with a watery chuckle, “How do we make this official?”
You explain the process — paperwork, a hearing, lawyer fees. He waves it all off.
“Whatever it takes. I’ll call our attorney first thing tomorrow.” Lando squeezes you tight. “Soon you’ll legally be Gigi’s mum too!”
You grin and kiss him soundly. With Lando fully on board, excitement takes root.
Over the next weeks, you go through the steps — filing petitions, scheduling court dates, and explaining the process in age-appropriate ways to an occasionally grumpy Georgia when she can’t go play outside instead.
Finally, the big day arrives. You dress Georgia in her favorite pink checkered dress and do her hair in perfect pigtails.
“My beautiful girl,” you murmur, smoothing down a flyaway curl. Her answering smile melts your heart.
At the courthouse, you all meet the social worker assigned to your case. She questions you and Lando gently about your relationship, home life, and approach to parenting. You cling tight to Lando’s hand the entire time.
Finally, it’s time for the hearing before a grandfatherly judge. He smiles warmly, peering over his glasses at you all.
“Well, I must say, this is one of the more straightforward cases to come before me. I can see clear as day how much love exists in this family.”
Relief floods you. The judge continues, “Therefore, I am more than pleased to grant the petition to finalize the adoption of Georgia Senna Norris by her mother, Y/N Y/L/N-Norris.” He bangs his gavel with an air of finality.
Joyful tears pour down your face. Lando whoops and sweeps you into a spinning hug. Even Georgia seems to realize something momentous just occurred, clapping her little hands.
In a daze, you sign the final paperwork making it official before emerging from the courthouse into the warm sunlight, your family now fully complete.
That evening, after Georgia is asleep, you curl up with Lando in bed, reliving the special day. He kisses your hair and murmurs, “I’m so proud of you, Mama.”
You grin against his chest. “I never thought I could feel so much love. She’s changed my life in every way.”
Lando tilts your chin up, eyes glowing. “That’s exactly how I feel about you. My girls who make life beautiful.”
***
One sunny afternoon, you’re in the kitchen prepping a snack for four-year-old Georgia when she comes bounding in from preschool.
“Mummy, guess what? My friend Amy at school is gonna be a big sister!” She hops up on her stool, eyes bright with excitement.
“Oh really? That’s fun!” You slice an apple into bunny shapes.
Georgia nods vigorously. “Yeah! Her mum has a baby in her tummy. Can I have a brother or sister in your tummy too?”
You freeze, knife hovering over the apple. Slowly setting it down, you turn to face her. “You want a little sibling?”
“Yes yes yes!” She bounces in her seat. “I asked Daddy already and he said I should ask you too.”
Your mind spins. A baby … it’s something you and Lando have only vaguely discussed as a someday possibility. But with Georgia asking so eagerly, the concept suddenly feels very real.
Just then, Lando walks in from his office. Georgia immediately appeals to him. “Daddy, tell Mummy we should have a baby! I wanna be a big sister.”
Lando meets your startled gaze, scrubbing a hand through his curls. “Well, uh, what do you think, love? Could be kinda nice to add to our crew.”
You glance between their hopeful faces, heart swelling. “I think … that could be really special for our family.”
Georgia cheers while Lando grins, coming over to wrap you in a hug. “A mini you running around? Sign me up.” His smile falters slightly. “Only if you want to though, truly.”
You squeeze him back. “I really do. We’ve come so far since the days of newborn Georgia. I’d love to go through it all again with you.”
The joy lighting up Lando’s face erases any lingering doubts.
That night after Georgia is asleep, you curl up together to discuss logistics. “I’ll need to give notice at the hospital once I’m pregnant so they can find someone to cover my maternity leave.”
Lando waves dismissively. “Don’t worry about any of that. Focus on growing our little muffin and I’ll handle the rest.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Our little muffin?”
“Or crumpet. Jellybean. Peanut.” Lando grins. “Take your pick, I’ve got a million terrible nicknames ready to go.”
Laughing, you swat his chest playfully. Sobering, you add, “It won’t be easy juggling a newborn and busy four year-old. But I can’t wait to see Georgia as a big sister.”
Lando smiles tenderly, threading his fingers through yours. “You’re already the most incredible mum. Our kids are so lucky.”
Your throat tightens at the absolute faith in his voice. No matter the challenges ahead, you’ll get through them together.
When you share the news with Georgia, she screeches loud enough to wake the neighbors. Her enthusiasm never wanes over the following months.
Finally, the big day arrives. After a long but relatively smooth delivery, your son enters the world screaming indignantly. The sound is music to your ears.
Lando cuts the cord with shaking hands before your little boy is placed in your arms. Love surges fiercely and instantly.
“Hi Maddox,” you whisper through joyful tears. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Lando presses a kiss to both your heads before going to bring Georgia in. She gasps softly, climbing up to peer at her new brother with wide eyes.
“He’s so little!” Reaching out a gentle finger, she strokes Maddox’s downy cheek. Your heart clenches watching your babies meet.
Georgia cuddles close as you adjust her arm to help cradle Maddox. “I’m your big sister Gigi! I’m gonna help take care of you.” She drops a sloppy kiss on his forehead.
Blinking back a fresh wave of tears, you meet Lando’s equally wet gaze. The road that first led you to Lando has become so much more than you ever imagined. But you wouldn’t change a single unexpected twist or turn.
***
You link arms with Lando as you make your way through the familiar Silverstone paddock. The distinctive smell of race fuel hangs in the air, mingling with the buzz of excitement rippling through the crowd.
Georgia skips ahead, her brunette curls bouncing with each step, while Maddox clings to Lando’s free hand, his eyes wide with wonder. Alexa, your two-year-old, nestles securely in your arms, her tiny fingers clutching the McLaren teddy bear she insisted on bringing today. A small smile tugs at your lips as you glance down at her cherubic face, so much like Lando’s. Your heart swells with love for your beautiful family.
“Mummy, look!” Georgia calls out, pointing towards the McLaren garage suite. “Can we go in and see the car later?”
“We’ll see, darling,” you reply with a wink, knowing full well that Lando will ensure a special tour for the kids.
Lando squeezes your hand, his warm eyes twinkling with adoration. “Anything for my favorite girls … and Maddox,” he teases, ruffling Maddox’s hair playfully.
Maddox giggles, his freckled cheeks dimpling. “I’m your favorite boy though, right?”
“Of course,” Lando assures him with a conspiratorial wink.
As you continue down the bustling pathway, a Sky Sports reporter spots your family and rushes over, microphone in hand.
“Lando! Dr. Y/L/N-Norris! Do you have a moment for a quick interview?” He asks, his cameraman already rolling.
Lando nods, ever the professional. “Sure, mate. Go ahead.”
The reporter flashes a bright smile at the camera. “We’re here at the Silverstone Circuit with McLaren driver, Lando Norris, his wife, Dr. Y/N Y/L/N-Norris, and their children, Georgia, Maddox, and Alexa. It’s the weekend of the British Grand Prix, and the Norris family has been a fixture in the paddock for years.”
He turns to Georgia and Maddox, crouching down to their level. “So, you two must love coming to the races with your dad. What’s your favorite part?”
Georgia’s eyes light up as she launches into an enthusiastic explanation about the cars and the pit stops, her hands gesturing animatedly. Maddox, the quieter one, simply mumbles “the colors” with a shy grin.
The reporter chuckles, clearly charmed by the children’s responses. Straightening up, he addresses you and Lando. “And how about you two? Managing a hectic F1 schedule with three young kids can’t be easy. What’s the secret?”
Before either of you can respond, Georgia pipes up, “But it’s not three kids, it’s five!”
You tense, shooting Lando a panicked glance. This wasn’t how you’d planned to share the news of your pregnancy.
“Five kids?” The reporter’s brows furrow in confusion.
Georgia nods matter-of-factly. “Yep, there are two more babies in Mummy’s belly!”
A hush falls over the small crowd that has gathered nearby, and you can feel dozens of eyes trained on your still-flat stomach. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively place a protective hand over your abdomen.
The reporter blinks, clearly thrown off-script. “Well, I … congratulations! That’s certainly going to be a handful.”
You force a laugh, leaning into Lando’s solid frame. “Yes, well, Lando’s always said he wants a football team.”
Your husband grins, that cheeky grin you fell in love with, and wraps an arm around your waist. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”
The crowd titters with amusement, and you can feel the tension dissipating.
“I can only imagine,” the reporter replies with a smile. “Well, thank you all for chatting with us today, and congratulations again on your growing family!”
As the reporter and his crew move on, you turn to Lando, your eyes shining with unshed tears — a heady mix of residual mortification and overwhelming love.
“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, stroking his stubbled jaw. “I know we wanted to share the news on our own terms.”
Lando silences you with a tender kiss, his lips warm and achingly familiar against yours. When he pulls back, his gaze is soft, adoring.
“Are you kidding? There’s no better way to announce it than through Gigi,” he says with a wink. “Besides, I’m just happy the whole world knows that I have super sperm.”
You laugh despite yourself, shoving his shoulder playfully. “You’re impossible.”
“But you love me,” he counters, that infuriatingly irresistible grin stretching across his face.
“God help me, I do,” you sigh, melting into his embrace.
Georgia bounds over then, Maddox and Alexa in tow, her expression a mixture of exhilaration and uncertainty.
“Was I not supposed to tell, Mummy? Did I do something wrong?” She asks, her eyes wide and questioning.
You quickly kneel down, gathering all three children into your arms and peppering their faces with kisses.
“No, my darling, you didn’t do anything wrong. You just … surprised us, that’s all.” You share a look with Lando over their heads, a look that conveys a thousand words — your hopes, your dreams, your boundless love for this incredible little family you’ve created together.
Lando reaches down, ruffling Georgia’s curls with one hand while gently squeezing your shoulder with the other. A silent promise, a vow to always be by your side as you navigate the beautiful chaos of your life together.
Rising to your feet, you adjust Alexa on your hip and take Georgia’s small hand in your own. Maddox slips his hand into Lando’s, and you set off once more, the television crew long forgotten.
This is your life — a whirlwind of races and airports, photoshoots and interviews. But it’s also quiet nights cuddled on the sofa, re-watching Disney movies for the millionth time. It’s family hugs and sloppy baby kisses, skinned knees and endless giggles. It’s laundry piled to the ceiling and sleepless nights spent pacing the nursery.
It’s messy and magical, exhausting and exhilarating. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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nocturnalcharm · 3 months ago
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Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n:  thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)
18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.
“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.
“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.
“You too Logan.” Charles says.
On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.
“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.
“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.
“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.
Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.
“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”
“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.
“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.
“I am too!”
“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”
“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.
They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.
“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.
“We’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.
The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.
“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”
“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”
“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”
“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.
***
The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.
When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.
“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.
“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.
“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”
“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.
He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.
The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.
“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.
“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.
You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.
You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.
You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.
“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.
“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.
“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.
The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.
It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.
“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”
“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.
You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.
“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.
“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.
He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?” 
He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.
You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.
Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.
“Logan!”
“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.
Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do. 
He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.
***
You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found. 
“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.
You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.
You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.
“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”
“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”
“It’s all yours!” You sassed.
You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.
Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.
“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.
You looked up, embarrassed.
“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”
“…Because I’m the girl?”
“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”
“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”
He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.
He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.
You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.
You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.
Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.
You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.
“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.
“Maybe that’s what I want.” 
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
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adragonprinceswhore · 4 months ago
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Teaching the Unteachable
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Aegon Targaryen x Wife
Summary: When all else fails, Aegon's wife employs drastic measures to teach the unteachable.
Warnings: 18+, banter, (slight) dom/sub, temperature play, wax play, dry humping, dirty talk, Aegon being horny and in love
A/N: So, apparently this smutty drabble I wrote in December turned out to be canon? Anyway, have some more 'Aegon being bad at High Valyrian', but with a fun, sexy twist ✨
Word Count: 1200
. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . 
“No, you need to roll your R’s. Like this: zaldrīzes” 
Aegon rolls his eyes before mockingly impersonating you, “zaldrīzes”. 
“No no, place the tip of your tongue by the roof of your mouth”, you explain, demonstratively opening your mouth to show your husband how he should place his tongue to achieve the sound he hadn’t yet mastered. 
Aegon’s eyes light up in mischief as he regards you. “I’m afraid I do not quite understand, my love. Perhaps if you place your tongue in my mouth, you can demonstrate it for me?” 
Now it is your turn to give him an unimpressed look. 
“If you want the realm to view you as a true Targaryen, you need to know how to speak like one”, you chide him, eyes sternly locking with his. 
“I do not give a shit about how the realm views me”, Aegon replies, tone sincere yet playful, “All that is of matter to me is how tempting my wife appears when she speaks of proper tongue placement”. 
You’re sitting next to each other by the table placed a few paces from the hearth burning in your shared chambers, Aegon’s hand continuously playing with your fingers. 
“You come to me sulking over the fact that your High Valyrian is no better than it was back when we were mere babes”, you sigh, “begging me to teach you”
Aegon hums as he bends your ring finger in his palm.
“Yet you do not listen to a word I say”, you scold him, pulling your hand away from his grip. 
“My love, I have come to a regretful realisation”, he replies with feigned gravity weighing heavy in his voice, “I’m afraid I’ll need another tutor” 
You answer his declaration by raising an impassive brow. A grin breaks out on his face. 
“One that doesn’t make my cock hard as soon as she opens her mouth”. 
Your eyes go wide at his crude remark, hand coming up to lightly smack him on the chest for his lewdness. 
“Aegon-“
He winks before moving closer to you, restless hands coming up to squeeze your thighs over your skirts, “Call me husband”
It is hard to stay mad at him in playful times like these, when he uses every charismatic trick he knows. Yet you have to remain strong, if only on the outside. 
“Why should I waste my days teaching the unteachable?”
“I am your husband. Your valzȳrys”, Aegon triumphs, hands moving up to pinch the flesh of your hips over the satin fabric you’re donning.  
One of the candles adorning the wooden table by you draws its last breath, hot wax running down its side. Your finger comes up to collect some, a pleasant chill running through your body at the sudden sting of warmth. 
“You can’t even say that right”, you tell him, a petty ridicule you know he won’t take to heart. Your eyes stay fixed on the wax slowly hardening on your fingertip. 
“Then teach me” 
His hands grab onto your sides tighter, pulling you off your chair and towards him. Instead of giving in too quickly, you resist his demand momentarily, feet steady on the floor to hinder him from pulling you onto his lap.
“Valzȳrys, I think you’re in due need of a punishment. For being such a disobedient pupil, and for talking about your tutor in such lewd ways”, you say, voice serious but eyes shining with mischief. 
Aegon looks up to meet your gaze, the grin on his face growing wider as he nods. 
You climb onto his lap, straddling him. Your noses almost knock together from the close proximity. He brings his hands to rest around your waist, but you grab them both and gently place them on the armrests of the chair. 
“No touching”, you instruct and he nods obediently. 
You’re sure you can sense the rigid proof of growing arousal where your centres meet, and your strict demeanour almost falters at the realisation. You haven’t even begun, yet your husband is desperate for you. 
You fight off a victorious smile as you pick up one candle, flame still burning, and look into Aegon's lilac eyes. The hand not holding the candle moves to untie the strings at the top of the undershirt he’s wearing. 
“If you fail to properly recite the words I ask you to say”, you start, the grin you’d tried to fight off causing the corners of your mouth to twitch upwards, “I get to pour wax on your chest”
Your husband’s eyes light up in intrigue, “And if I say the words correctly?”
“You’ll be awarded the satisfaction of knowing you are coherent in your native tongue”, you respond sternly. Aegon watches you expectantly. 
“Wife”, you begin your unwonted examination, swirling the lit candle between your fingers.
“Ābrazyrys”, Aegon confidently replies, raising his face in pride. 
You tilt the candle to the side, allowing the hot wax to pour down onto his slightly exposed chest. He gasps in surprise and you tut at his reaction.
“Atrocious pronunciation”, you chastise your husband, eyes shining with amusement. He inhales deeply, hands gripping the sides of the chair tightly. 
“Again”, you demand. 
“Ābrazyrys”, he breathes out, a whimper escaping his lips as you pour more wax on his chest. You are now certain that the hardness against your centre is evidence of how much he’s enjoying your teaching method, so you languidly roll your hips against his.
“Ābrazyrys”, you correct him as he grunts at the feeling of your core pressing against his. The wax on his chest had congealed, resembling pearls resting on his flustered skin. 
The alluring sight causes you to momentarily lose your senses, pressing a kiss against his lips; the flustered pink tint of his cheeks too appealing. When you pull away, he follows your mouth for more, but you give him a pointed look and continue, 
“Thank you, wife”
“Kirimvose, ābrazyrys”, Aegon all but moans as you pour more wax down his chest in the middle of his utterance. Having him at your mercy, torturing him with stinging pleasure, has rendered you wanton as well, causing you to roll your hips against his more forcefully to dull the ache blooming there; waiting to be attended to. 
You lean forward, swiping your tongue over your husband's soft lips. He pays no heed to your instructions any longer, hands leaving the armrest to circle your body, pressing you closer to him as he devours your mouth. He pushes your body in a silent plea for you to continue rocking against him, and you comply, eager to soothe your neglected core. 
The passion between you almost causes you to forget the still burning candle in your hand, but you manage to detach from his lips long enough to blow it out, fingertips once again pressing into the melted wax on the top. Before it solidifies over your skin, you grab the sides of Aegon’s chin, messily pressing the wax into his flesh as you steer his face towards yours, kissing him deeply as he hisses in stinging bliss. 
Perhaps he truly needs another tutor? 
One that doesn’t get her cunt wet as soon as he opens his mouth.
. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Thank you for reading! 🩵
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diddybok · 11 months ago
Text
asking best friend!stray kids what you are pt.2
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all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)
➩pairing: ot8 x gn!reader
➩genre(s): angst, some fluff
➩warnings: strong language, mentions of sex, some of the boys are still mean, some unhappy endings
➩wc: 9.4k (9433)
➩author’s note: i am so serious if anybody talks to you in a way to undermine, condescend or just simply belittle you and make you feel stupid, pls pls pls cut that person out of your life. even if they’re doing it as a ‘joke’. it never ends well. ily all and you deserve the best of the best, always <3
➩parts: part one
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chris | 1.2k (1201) words
After the fourth ring, you swipe the little phone symbol across your screen and the time starts. You watch it go from one second, to the next, and the next, before a deep elongated sigh pulls you out of your trance. 
You put him on speaker, afraid of the way you’d react if you were to hear him so close to you in your ear. You can’t handle that right now. 
“Y/n?” His slightly distorted voice says. You don’t reply, placing the phone down in front of you as you sit and fiddle with the rings on your fingers. 
“Come on sweetheart, say something please. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Chris asks softly. Akin to a parent who would try and get their child to confess to stealing cookies out of the cookie jar. 
You run your hands down your face. You’re annoyed with him, most definitely. But you can’t deny the butterflies that start to flutter in your stomach when he addresses you like that. 
It’s not fair. 
The line is painfully silent for another two minutes. Chris patiently, or rather stubbornly, waiting for you to speak. 
“This…this is harder than I thought it’d be.” You say, your voice croaking slightly as this is the first time you have spoken in a while. 
“Okay. Try not to think too much about it. Just speak your truth, unload it all.” Chris encourages. 
You take a deep breath and run your hands up and down your thighs to stop them from clamming up. 
“You hurt my feelings. You are continuing to hurt my feelings. I feel as if I’m the only one who is missing out on an inside joke that everybody seems to know but me.” You halt, waiting to see if he would have a rebuttal. Except he doesn’t and his silence spurs you on to continue. 
“I thought we were practically dating. I thought that night would be the night that you would ask to be together as a couple. You know, exclusive?” You chuckle bitterly. “So imagine my surprise when you decide to ignore me for a week. Do you know how shitty that felt?” You ask him. 
You can just about hear his breaths. They’re soft and collected. Yet the more you wait for his response that he doesn’t seem to be giving, you are becoming the opposite of that. 
“I asked you a question.” You say curtly. 
“I can see how that would make you feel shitty, yes. For that I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I felt like I fucked everything up for us.” You think he sounded genuine enough when he said that, so you elect yourself to be quiet so he can continue. 
“I should’ve stopped it. Doing it knowing I wasn’t ready for it to happen—like that anyway—was not fair on you. I wouldn’t say that it has complicated things per say, but it has led me to think about a few things.” Chris finishes. 
You sit there, the flaps of the butterfly wings now causing the bile to travel upwards and out. You reach over and grab your water bottle from your bedside table and chug as much as you can. 
“Think about things like what?” You will yourself to say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand at the water that managed to escape and drip down your chin. 
He doesn’t reply which does not settle your nerves. Especially not after that last sentence he said. Silence is not your friend at this moment. 
“Chris—”
“I think that we should be together.” He practically vomits out. 
Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up to the top of your skull. 
“What!”
“Y/n?”
You both speak at the same time. 
“Oh sorry you go ahead.”
“Sorry, you first.”
You hear a small chuckle over the line as you speak over each other again. He stays silent this time, letting you talk. 
“Are you serious? Like you really mean that? You aren’t playing me for a fool right?” You ask quickly. 
“Yes. Yes. No,” You release a silent scream. “I really do want us. I have always wanted us, but this—you—made me realise that we should’ve made it official a while ago. There were only so many more excuses I could pull out of the bag to mask me taking you out on dates as just ‘best friends hanging out doing questionable things’.” 
Of course, you knew this as you are smart. The excuse he gave when he took you to a rooftop restaurant with candlelights everywhere was certainly not ‘for practice when I get a partner’. Him having your favourite meal prepared and the playlist the two of you made playing in the background? Dead giveaway. 
“Plus it is also totally unrealistic that you as my best friend would splash that much cash on me unless it was because you lost a bet. So I had a feeling I knew something was up. Which I guess is why I got a bit too excited and jumped to the conclusion that we were already a couple.” You say scratching the back of your neck. 
“Not true! I would always buy you things.” Chris corrects. 
“Yeah but you’d always complain whilst doing so. So when you stopped complaining, something had clearly shifted.” You clarify. 
You can envision the eye roll he does paired with the sigh he releases making you laugh. 
There’s another silence that fills the space, albeit this time it is comfortable. Until he sneezes down the line and you catch yourself smiling warmly as you bless him. 
“What happens now? Do we get a level up on our relationship or something? Or do I magically spawn in your arms and you cuddle me until I fall asleep? I’m thinking that sounds like the correct thing to happen next.” He teases. 
“Of course that’s what you think.” 
“Hey, I don’t make the rules, I just work here.” He says in a seductive drawl. 
“You’re still very much in the dog house. Honestly, I feel it’s only fair for me to leave you waiting a week to even see me.” You speak without a hint of sarcasm. 
It goes quiet over the phone again. You look down at your rings, twisting them around your finger gently. 
“Okay…I guess that’s fair.” He finally responds. 
You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding, nodding to yourself in agreement. 
“You’re one hundred percent certain you want this? Want to be together past just best friends?” You clarify. 
“What do you not trust me already? Y/n I want to be with you. I have wanted to be with you. Our communication just wasn’t great. But we will work on it together. Okay?” Chris speaks gently down the phone. 
“Okay.” You say softly. 
Though it will take a day or two for you to get over the fact he didn’t message you for a week, you feel as though a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 
Whatever the next step of your relationship with Chris is, you’re just relieved that you get to do it together with no more misunderstandings. 
minho | 1.0k (1032) words
You and Minho decided that it would be best for you to discuss your relationship over lunch. He even offered to pay which you certainly were not going to turn down. 
You have been hyping yourself up in front of the mirror for about twenty minutes since Minho said he was en route. If Minho texting you earlier was any indication of how this conversation will go, then you are sure you aren’t silly for practising breathing techniques and how to not make a fool of yourself on a whole. 
You’re getting your jacket when you hear his knock at the door. You know it’s him because he only ever knocks in a pattern. 
Opening the door, you’re glad to see him greet you with a smile on your face. Though that’s how it has always been in your relationship. Even when you fight, you always know to resolve the issue with a smile and to never yell at each other. 
Even though you could tell he was anxious, he was masking it well. Throughout the drive, playing your favourite songs. Even now in the café ordering you your favourite meal when he caught you scanning the menu acting like you didn’t know what you wanted already. 
Safe to say, the both of you calm each other down, which makes this conversation much easier to have. 
“So, let's address the elephant in the room.” You start, taking a sip of your milkshake. 
“I first want to say that whatever we choose to do from this point on, you are not allowed to leave me. Well, you can’t anyways because I am always going to be in your life.” He says with an unwavering smile on his face. 
You hold back your smile and nod, letting him carry on. 
“No I do mean it. I just think that we’d be better off just being…us. You know what I mean?” He says using his hands to emphasise.  
“Mmm, let’s dig a little deeper. I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. Obviously what we shared was nice and I don’t think that we should regret it, right?” You say with a tilt of your head. 
“I agree. I had a think about it whilst I drove to your house to pick you up and I don’t think it was fair of me to question what we did. In terms of making you think that I felt that it wasn’t right of us to do.” Minho explains. He looks around before leaning in slightly. “Especially since that was the best sex I have had in months.” He throws a wink your way and you have to stop yourself from taking a bow. 
Him saying that feels as though numerous weights have been lifted off of your shoulders. You were most anxious about whether he either hated it or thought it was a mistake. So you’re now glad to hear that neither of it was the case. 
The waiter comes over with your food and you thank them. You’re about to pick up your fork and take a bite of food to fuel your courage but you’re abruptly tutted at. 
“Just because we are in the midst of an important conversation does not mean we skip tradition.” Minho says, raising his eyebrow at you. 
You place the fork down and put up a peace sign as you pose. He takes out his camera and snaps a photo of you with both his and your meal in the frame. He then puts his middle finger up and poses with an over exaggerated bored expression. You chuckle to yourself before taking the photo. 
“You said that we moved too fast assuming that we were moving in the first place. Do you still think that now?” You say before taking a bite of your meal. 
He finishes his mouthful as he furrows his eyebrows and thinks about your question. 
“Well I mean, I’d be an idiot to say that I didn’t think that it wouldn’t be going anywhere. But for us right now, I don’t think we should be moving at all.” He speaks. 
The food you are swallowing seems to get a little stuck as you start to quietly choke. All the while Minho grows increasingly embarrassed at your lack of ability to stay alive. 
“Okay calm, people are starting to look over.” He says to you, pouring you a glass of water from the jug on the table. 
You take a few gulps and tap your chest.
“Damn. You shouldn’t say things like that when I’m mid chew.” You scold. 
“My apologies, from now on I shall wait until the food has made its descent to the pit of acid in your stomach.” He lightly chuckles. 
“So what I’m hearing is that all things considered romantically, we should stop. So we just continue on as friends?” You clarify. 
He nods. 
“Hit the nail on the head.”
“Right…I mean I guess that works. After all, we were friends before we got curious so I’m pretty sure we can just laugh about it and carry on.” You smile albeit quite painfully. 
“Yes of course! We were just curious…” Minho adds, a painful smile also etched onto his features. 
Can you just laugh about it and carry on? Even when it felt so natural? So…right?
There’s a silence pregnant with awkwardness as you and Minho avoid each other’s gazes and continue to eat. 
Akin to a supporting artist having a cue to interact with the leads of a movie, the waiter comes over to ask if everything was alright with the food. 
You both bombard him with praise and he seems a little taken aback and hurries away to the next table. 
You don’t lie to Minho often, much like he doesn’t lie to you. However, in this café it seems the two of you are egregious liars. Which explains the way you both see right through each other. 
You know that it’s only a matter of time until something happens again because unfortunately you have crossed the line. Let’s just hope you can go at least a month before you’re entangled in each other's arms again. 
changbin | 1.1k (1120) words
One, two, three knocks on your door. You approach it slowly, looking through the peephole to see Changbin standing in his big puffer jacket and gloves. 
You consider letting him stay in the cold a little longer, but the goodness in your heart wills your hand to open the door. 
“Come in quickly, it’s cold.” You order. 
He doesn’t dally with his movements, coming inside quickly as you shut the door behind him. It’s quiet as he takes off his shoes and coat, giving you a mildly awkward smile that was still dulcet. 
“I was just making breakfast, would you like some?” You offer, walking into the kitchen. 
“Oh, yes please that’d be nice thank you.” He says, following after you. 
The atmosphere feels a little strange and you aren’t used to it. Changbin hasn’t yelled at all since stepping foot inside and usually you would’ve threatened the duct tape on his mouth by now. 
You engage in some aimless chit chat with him whilst you cook. You figured you would ease into this conversation rather than just immediately diving head first. 
“I like what you’ve done with the place.” Changbin admires as he looks around your kitchen. 
You turn to him, bewildered. 
“I haven’t changed my kitchen since I moved in here, bin.” You establish. 
“Really? Oh. I thought there was something different about this place in the week and a bit that I have been gone.” He says with genuinity. 
“Why would I have changed my kitchen around in the week that you’ve been gone?” You ask. 
He shrugs, stealing a blueberry from the bowl when your back is turned from him. 
“I don’t know. Some people dye or cut their hair when they’re upset. I figured since you like your hair too much, you would’ve changed the next best thing.” He solidifies, feeling much too content with the way his brian works. 
You on the other hand aren’t sure whether you’re being tested or if this is truly how he is choosing to behave.
You plate up the food and as you’re about to slide his plate over to him, you pull it back. 
“For every question answered, you get a mouthful of food.” At this, Changbin gawks. 
“This seems illegal in some form or another.” He sulks. 
You open up your phone to your conversation with him. 
“So it says here that you didn’t want to mess up our friendship, but emotions were running high and we weren’t thinking about the consequences. What consequences would that be?” You state. 
He looks at you quizzically. 
“Why do I feel like I’m in court right now? You’re reading the text messages out like evidence and I’m scared.” He says laughing awkwardly. 
“You answer the question. You get to eat.” You redirect. He clears his throat before he begins. 
“Well the consequences would be, erm, how us sleeping together will create ripples in our friendship whether we like it or not. I mean I’m not saying I regret it fully…but maybe a tiny bit?” He says fiddling with his hands. 
He opens his mouth wide as he awaits your end of the deal. You pick up the fork and scoop up some food before you feed it to him. 
For people who aren’t a couple, you sure do act like it. 
“Why is that?” You press further. 
“Because I didn’t want something like this to happen. By that I mean, if we were going to go all the way, then we should have established what we were prior. Even though our friends may think we are a couple, it wasn’t exclusively spoken about between us.” A beat. “But now I think that by letting ourselves get carried away, we missed the opportunity to settle things out with both of us clear on where we stand in our relationship.” He finishes. 
You decide to give him two mouthfuls for that answer to which he hums happily in response. 
You cannot doubt that what he said makes sense. You should have spoken about what you guys were before engaging in something as intimate as sleeping with each other. 
Yet for two people who have already gone to second base countless times before and couldn’t control the libido this time, you also understand where things got messy. 
“I think I get where you’re coming from now.” You say, eating your own mouthful. 
Changbin nods in acknowledgment before stealing a handful of blueberries. 
“But you also said that you still wanna be my best friend. Is that still true? Do you think we can get past this?” You ask apprehensively. 
Changbin’s eyebrows furrow in disbelief. 
“Of course! To both of your questions. Look at us, we’ve lasted this long. Yeah so I’ve been inside you, that’s fine! At least we had a good time, right? We can say that we’ve done it and gotten it out of our system.” He exclaims. 
You pull a face at the last sentence and he is immediately scrambling to reword what he means. 
“No, I don't see it as a throwaway act! I meant that because we had been stopping at second base because we were too scared to take it all the way, we finally reached the goal.” He stammers. 
You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms. 
“No I don’t mean that sleeping with you was the goal, if anything it was off the pitch.” He tries to explain. 
A single tilt of your head was all that was needed in order for him to slam his head into his hands and mutter a ‘I give up’. 
You shake your head and slide the plate over to him as you move across the island to sit on the stall next to him. You place an arm around his shoulder as he sighs. 
“I don’t want to lose you as my best friend too, bin. Let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah? What happened, happened. Now we both know where we stand about our friendship, it’s okay.”
He lifts his head from his palms and looks over you with his big black eyes. 
“You mean that? Like actually? We’re good?” He asks. You laugh slightly. 
“Yes bin, we’re good.” You reassured him. 
“Oh thank God. Does that mean I can still call you my sweet—”
“One day at a time.” You say sternly. 
The both of you smile as you finish the rest of your breakfast. There’s a twinge of hurt that you feel for you and Changbin not going forward as a couple, but you would rather this than to lose him forever. 
So for now, you’ll cherish what an amazing friendship the two of you have and will continue to have. 
hyunjin | 1.1k (1113) words
“Y/n open the fucking door.” You mimic Hyunjin’s last text message to you aloud as you walk down the stairs. 
You were by no means rushing to get to the door, if anything, you think that standing right by it for a good two minutes or so to really irritate him would make you feel much better than you currently do. 
Hyunjin continuously banging on the door pulls you out of your stubborn demeanour. If not for your neighbours, you’d have let him continue to bang against the door until his knuckles bruised. 
Yet it seems your night couldn’t get any worse considering you’ve just taken a fist to the face. Perhaps that was your fault for catching him off guard when he was vigorously knocking as he appeared to have ‘knocked’ your face instead of the door. 
“Oh fuck! Y/n!” Hyunjin yells as he cradles your face in his hands. You appreciate the gesture, you do, he was still your best friend after all. But if this wasn’t the cherry on top of the cake then you don’t know what is. 
“Yep, good to see you too hyune.” You groan. 
You scrunch your face as your hand moves to soothe your forehead. Shrugging out of his hold, you step inside of your home, trusting that he would follow suit and shut the door behind him. 
“Y/n darling I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to knock against…your forehead.” He speaks with utmost genuinity as he shadows behind you. 
You don’t say anything as you just grab yourself some frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel before moving to your living room to make yourself comfortable on the sofa as you wait for him to explain everything. 
You’re thankful that he seems to be getting the hints tonight. He takes his place beside you, worry etched onto his beautiful face. 
Damn his prince-like features…
“Explain yourself then, since texting wasn’t working for you.” You spit. He bites his lip nervously and fidgets with his hands before his eyes look from the bag of peas until falling onto your own. 
“When…when I said I didn’t want you as my best friend, I meant because we can’t just go back to being best friends after that. It would just kill me knowing that you aren’t mine even after the night we shared.”  He starts. 
You sit still and listen, switching hands since the frozen peas were adding to the chill you already had from the conversation that loomed over your head. 
“I don’t want you as my best friend because I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want us.  Together.”
You wince. There’s a small part of you that just doesn’t believe him. You place down the now damp tea towel that holds the slowly melting peas. 
He looks at you, trying to read your reaction, but you were giving nothing away. 
“I just wanna know what was going through your head all those nights we spent together. We may not have had sex, but we did everything else. The cuddles, the kisses—when you familiarise yourself with every inch of my body—it would make sense that I thought we were something more than just best friends.”
He breaks eye contact, his interest now on the rings he adorns on his fingers. You can tell he is trying to think of something to say, so you wait patiently. 
“I understand if you feel like I may have been using you.” He acquiesces in meeting your gaze, but he persists. “It hadn’t really occurred to me that you may have thought of us as more than best friends. Granted, instead of sitting in my uncertainty I should have just asked you. Then that night happened and it hit me. Afterwards, I just knew that I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”
You feel nauseous. You can’t decipher exactly what that was supposed to mean. You look over at the now wet kitchen towel. 
“So you do regret it?” You pressed, your voice soft. 
He holds his hands out and shakes his head as he quickly refutes his words. 
“No of course not! I just meant that I know I should have asked you about us before that happened. I didn’t want it to be the case that you felt that I was not serious about us. ‘Cause having sex with someone is serious and I never wanted you to think I was playing around with your feelings.” He finishes. 
You sit there thinking about what he said. Maybe he was being sincere. Maybe he really does want what you thought the two of you had for the past couple of months. 
“How can I know that you aren’t just saying this? That you feel somewhat obligated to make us a thing because of the fact we slept with each other?” You ask. 
“Because I was too much of a coward to say this earlier.” He speaks without missing a beat. 
He scoots closer to you on the sofa, his hands providing warmth in yours. You don’t mean to dither, but you can’t help but weigh all the options. Hyunjin tilts his head to try and meet your eyes.
“I know you’re thinking about all of the things that could go wrong. About all of the things that could go right. What I could be for you in a day, a week, a month or even a year.” He cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking beneath your eye. “But just be with me in this present moment. Think about what I could be for you now.” He says quietly. 
After some time, you lift your head to meet his gaze, the faintest smile on your lips. 
“Okay.”
Hyunjin’s eyes widened in shock and by the look on his face, you were certain that he thought you were going to reject him. 
“O-okay? You’re sure?” He presses. 
“I’m sure. I can tell you truly meant what you said and I think this would be the better outcome for us. I don’t think I could picture my life without you in it.” You admit. 
“Then I promise you won’t ever have to picture it because I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you, Y/n.” Hyunjin declares. 
You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. You aren’t sure whether your head is throbbing from your injury or the thrill that comes with you and Hyunjin finally being together. 
You just hope that Hyunjin is able to keep his promise that he won’t ever leave you; and that in the end, you made the right decision. 
jisung | 1.1k (1115) words 
You and Jisung sit on your sofa with a cup of tea in both of your hands. It’s been ten minutes since he has arrived and not one word has been said between the two of you. 
That’s how things usually are between you and him though. You don’t particularly need to say anything to know what the other one needs. 
However, you fear that your senses haven’t quite been tingling like they ought to be. Since what you thought was commonly shared between both parties has seemed to only be dumped into one. 
An unrequited love is always bound to end in heartbreak and you’re sure that is how today is going to end. 
“Is it just me or do things feel a little odd?” Jisung says breaking the ice, but in a way which has submerged the two of you in ice cold water. 
“Well I think I would be a little more fraught if things didn’t feel odd.” You add. 
You aren’t exactly happy with him at the moment either. In fact you think it’s in his best interest to explain just what he meant in those text messages. 
“Explain yourself then.” You say not beating around the bush. 
Jisung places his mug down before turning to you. 
“I wanna start by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I worded what I was trying to say in those texts. You aren’t stupid Y/n, I promise. I’m the one that’s being stupid.” He meets your gaze and you give him a single nod. 
“The truth is, I don’t think I’m ready to have a relationship with you.” 
If your feelings are hurt, you will yourself not to show it on your face. Except your face goes pallid as you feel the knife stab directly into your beating heart. 
“Then why make it seem as if we were? Why not shut it down? Better yet, why use me to get your rocks off and make me think that I am going to amount to more than just your best friend?” Your voice croaks, unable to hide the emotion you’re feeling. 
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. 
“I can’t give you a definite answer of why I did all of that right now.” He says quietly. 
You can’t help the scoff that falls from your mouth. 
“What the fuck Ji? Why are you even here then? What are we even doing?!” You say starting to grow more upset. 
His eyes widen slightly as he looks at you. He places a hand on your arm and is surprised when you don’t shrug him away. 
“I promise I don’t mean to vex you, I just don’t have an answer because I don’t know. I just know that us having slept together made things seem…real. Like we were actually happening. When in actuality we weren’t and never will be.” 
That was a punch to your gut so hard that your body viscerally reacted to his words and hunched over slightly. You can’t believe what you’re hearing. 
This can’t be the Jisung that you were friends with for so long. No, he would never say something so outright. 
It’s as if he hasn’t even registered what he just said because his face is that of worry as to why you are stunned silent. 
“Jisung,” he winces at the use of his full name. “What did you expect to happen between us? Be honest, don’t say that you don’t know.” You speak gently. 
He thinks for a moment, his hand slipping from your arm as he uses it to fiddle with the zipper of his jacket.
“I just expected for us to play around and not take it to the next step. I just wanted a bit of fun with my best friend. That’s not so bad is it?” He confesses, looking at his feet. 
The knife is pushed deeper. 
You honestly aren’t sure how to react. What to say or even do. So you sit in silence. 
Minutes go by and all you can hear are the hum of the electronics in the room and the breathing of Jisung. He always has been a loud breather. 
A clearing of the throat pulls you out of your trance. 
“Please say something, anything.” He pleads. You slowly turn your face towards him. 
“What would you like me to say Jisung? I have just found out that my best friend—you—has been using me for shits and giggles and being a total ignorant asshole while he does so.” You retort. 
He shakes his head as he frowns at your words. 
“No, no I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t use you just for that. Why would I do that Y/n? You mean more to me than that.” He runs his hand through his brown locks, getting frustrated. “Look, I don’t think we should blow this too much out of proportion. We did something that we shouldn’t have and now we just have to move on.” He says. 
“You don’t mean that.” 
“You’re my best friend Y/n. You know me inside and out. Maybe I haven’t been so transparent with you lately. I just think that I need to figure out some stuff on my own because clearly everything I say is hurting you and I hate the way I hurt you. Fuck, just seeing your face now, knowing I was the cause. I can’t do this. Not anymore.” He says solemnly. 
You blink. The tears trickle down your cheeks as you take into account what he is saying. 
No. This isn’t your Jisung. Just give him some time and he’ll be back. He’ll come back. 
“What are you saying to me Ji?” He places a hand on your cheek before standing up and putting on his shoes. 
You immediately get up and follow him to the front door. 
“Jisung.” You whisper. He opens the door and steps out, stopping and turning to you once more. 
“I’m always gonna be in your corner Y/n. Okay? Always.” Jisung says as he smiles sadly at you and turns away from your door. 
Watching him leave feels like the knife is twisting uncontrollably. You shut your door, not wanting to see him in case you’ll do something stupid like run and stop him from walking out of your life. 
You’re angry, you’re hurt, you’re confused. You’re in a state of shock. Was that a goodbye? Will you ever see him again?
You cover your mouth with your hand as you sob quietly as reality sets in. You had just lost the man you had fallen for, your best friend. 
You aren’t sure if he is ever coming back. 
felix | 1.0k (1077) words
The sun is setting and you find yourself in the familiar skatepark which you and Felix frequently visit to hang out. 
This was a first, you getting here before him. It felt uncanny, especially since the skatepark is an empty void. It’s not like you’re here at the late hours of the night which is what you guys usually do, so where are the people?
As you sit atop the ramp wondering this, Felix climbs up and sits next to you. 
“Hey Y/n.” He greets. No remark about you being here before him for a change. You face him and greet him with a small smile. 
“The sky is pretty this evening. Any particular reason for why you wanted to meet at our spot earlier than usual?” He asks you. 
“I knew the sky would be worth seeing from here today. I also wanted to be able to see your face when you lie.” You deadpan. 
He audibly swallows at this which makes you chuckle and start to swing your feet. 
“I’m kidding. Just wanted to watch the sun go down.” You tease. 
It’s silent, bar the birds chirping and the rustle of the leaves as the wind dances through the trees. 
“So about what happened with us,” Felix starts. “You think that we are more than just best friends?” He asks. You hum in acknowledgement. 
“I thought we were more than best friends for a while. You know, since this whole shebang started. The sex was just what I thought was you being ready to take our relationship further. Though that was foolish of me to think and not double check with you.”
Felix, now turnt to face towards the sunset, is quiet as he takes into consideration what you have just said. 
“It wasn’t foolish.” He says ever so quietly. 
Your legs still their movement as you turn to look at him. His face is being kissed nicely by the sun right now, his freckles practically glowing. 
“Of course it was foolish Felix. Or else we wouldn’t be here now.” You smile as you tip your head back and close your eyes, letting the last of the sun’s warmth seep through your skin. 
“No. It wasn’t foolish because I was ready. Okay that’s not entirely true, I caught feelings months ago but I only became sure about them during that week I was away.” He softly speaks. 
You drop your head and look towards him. His eyes are still glued to the vast blanket of orange and yellow across the horizon. 
“But that’s not what you said in those text messages. You said that you think that boundary shouldn’t have been crossed in the first place. Yet now you’re saying this? Forgive me Felix, but I’m finding it hard to believe what’s coming out of your mouth.” You sigh.  
He finally turns and looks at you, a small scowl on his face. 
“I know what I said in the texts Y/n. I don’t go back on my word. I do think a boundary was crossed and as best friends it shouldn’t have been.” A beat. “Though that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel something towards you. That’s why I’m so confused.” He turns his head back towards the sky, the deep shade of blue starting to make itself evident. 
“Like I said, I didn’t expect to catch feelings for you and then have sex with you.” He finishes. 
You lay down, watching the dark grey clouds move. 
“Do you remember much of that night?” You ask. 
“Of course I do. How could I ever forget. I mean we are literally sitting on the ramp that it happened on.” He reminisced. 
“Remember when I told you that I was yours and you were mine? That was probably said in the heat of the moment, but I meant it Felix. I’m not the kind of person who says things for the sake of saying them. Plus, I’m not focused on anybody other than you.” You say, closing your eyes again as the cool air brushes against your face. 
Though your eyes are closed, you sense that Felix was staring at you. You hear his clothes rustle before you’re wrapped up in his arms. 
He is cuddling you. 
“Doll, I’m sorry. I didn’t just say those things because we were high off oxytocin. You really mean so much to me. I don't want us to argue, I just want us to be together. For real. No hesitations, no take backs. Just you and me living how we do, but together as one.”
You can feel something wet drip into the crook of your neck. You know it’s not raining so you figure he has started to cry. 
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings Y/n. It’s not what I wish to ever do to the person I love.” He sobs. 
You open your eyes as you hear his admittance. The person he loves. The person he loves. 
“You love me?”
“I’m in love with you. I was trying to make sense of if I truly meant it over that week and I reacted like I did earlier because I know you didn’t love me back. I was embarrassed.” He confessed. 
You turn over in his arms as you grab ahold of his face. It’s dark now, but a nearby light creates a twinkle in his eyes. 
“I want you to be sure that this is what you want. You don’t have to promise me forever, but promise me that this is truly what you want until it isn’t.” You say gently. 
His bottom lip wobbles slightly as he takes a deep breath in then out. 
“I am sure. I promise. I love you, I’m in love with you. I want us to be best friends. I want us to be lovers. I want it all. I want you.” He whispers against your lips. 
You smile, wiping his tears away with your thumb. 
“Okay, me too. We’re locked in?” You hold up your pinky. 
“We’re locked in.” He connects his pinky with yours and pulls your face in to kiss you softly. 
The two of you lay there in each other’s arms for the rest of that evening until a security guard ushered the two of you away. 
As you walk hand in hand down the street, you’re just glad that you have this ball of sunshine all to yourself. For as long as time allows. 
seungmin | 1.5k (1518) words 
You were nervous. More nervous than you expected yourself to get. Which is probably how you find yourself scrambling to get your phone, sending Seungmin a message to say that you don’t want to meet up and would rather just call. 
His reply after reading your message was to immediately dial you up, leaving no time for you to think about what you’re going to say and how you’re going to say it. 
You answer the phone with baited breath. 
“Why didn’t you want to meet me? You nervous or something?” He says very straightforwardly. 
Yes. 
“No. Just realised that I have things to do and I can multitask if I speak with you over the phone.” You lie. 
You hear him sigh on the other side of the line. 
“I’d rather you weren’t multitasking whilst we are having an important conversation about us. Pay attention.”
Your jaw clenches as you bite your tongue. 
“Fine. Since you want to be such an adult about this, why don’t you do us the honour and start us off?” You quip. 
“You already know how I feel about that night. About us blurring those lines between friendship and something more. We shouldn’t have. Having said that, I value our friendship too much to let something like that fuck it up.” Seungmin says plainly. 
You roll your eyes, not understanding what exactly he means by that. 
“Okay…but you do realise that us sleeping together has changed everything, right?” You say unwavering in your tone. 
“Wrong.”
You waited for him to finish what you hoped would be a longer sentence, but all you could hear was the minor feedback from the other end of the line. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you try again. 
“What do you mean, wrong? Things can’t go back to normal after that night, shit, after everything that’s happened between us.” You exclaim. 
“And I’m not saying they have to—”
“You are absolutely not still using me as a way to blow your load Seungmin.” You interrupt harshly. 
You hear him groan on the other end of the phone to which you decide to put him on speakerphone and place him on your bed. You wipe your face with your hands in frustration as you wait for him to speak. 
“I’m not going to do this with you if you’re going to be angry for starters. Especially if you’re going to be interrupting me. Got it?” He asserts. 
You release a huff of air, choosing to stay quiet in regards to what he has just said, but you reluctantly agree. 
“Fine, sorry. Carry on.” You say as nicely as you can muster up. 
“What I’m saying is I care about you Y/n. I don’t think it’s fair that people have also been feeding you troubles about our friendship. It’s between us and not them. They don’t know what the fuck is going on and I’ll be getting on their asses for that later, but right now my focus is on you.” He explains. 
You stay quiet, noting the fact that he is now outside and walking. 
“Seungmin, you can’t seriously fault our friends for noticing something you were determined to ignore. We were doing things couples do!”
“But we aren’t a couple. That is what I’m trying to get at Y/n.” He says exasperated. You hear a police siren go by on his end of the line which muffles the last part of his sentence. 
“Then why even do all that with me? Of course I was going to catch feelings. I’d be stupid not to!” You exclaim, resting your head in your hands. 
He’s quiet. The only sounds to be heard is the distorted traffic. You sit there unmoving, wondering why he isn’t speaking. 
A loud series of knocks on your door jolt you out of your trance. 
“One second, someone is at my door.” You alert Seungmin. Putting on your slippers, you rush to the door. You open it and you feel your face run cold. 
Seungmin huddles over, catching his breath before he makes a show to end the call between the two of you. 
“I am not having this conversation with you over a fucking phone.” He pants. 
He lets himself in, your mind still boggled at the fact that he chose to fast walk over here just to have this conversation. You’re both touched and terrified. Touched because he seems to really care about talking about your relationship in person. Terrified because this is getting much more serious than you thought it was. 
It’s times like these where you wish you and Seungmin hadn’t planned to live so close together. Now you have no choice but to face him in the flesh. 
In the time that you were finally able to come to your senses and shut your front door, Seungmin had taken off his shoes and jacket and was standing behind you waiting. 
He grabs ahold of your hand and leads you to your own bedroom. 
“Seungmin, I don't want to have angry sex with you.” You blurt out. You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle, but he’s already sitting you on the edge of your bed. 
He places his hands on your shoulders and imitates taking a deep breath in and out. 
“No, that is not what I’m here to do.” He crawls up to the top of your bed and sits resting against the headboard. “I am here to make amends and stop what shouldn’t have started in the first place.” He says calmly. 
You have to hold your stomach to try and soothe the impending vomit that is about to ascend up and out of your mouth. 
“I’m gonna be honest with you Seungmin. What you did, knowing you never wanted it to happen or go this far, was not cool. I’m not saying you’re to blame for the whole of it…but as someone who was catching feelings and seemingly thought you were as well, I genuinely thought that us continuing to be intimate with each other was because you liked me.” You finish. 
As you sit crossed-legged at the foot of the bed and Seungmin sits at the head, you start to feel this strange disconnect between the two of you. 
Seungmin sits there silent, clearly thinking of something to say in response. 
“I…I think I didn’t stop it because it felt good.” He says. 
“Good because it was us or good because you had someone to calm your sexual frustrations?” You ask. 
The way he hesitates to answer and hold eye contact with you tells you everything you need to know. 
You let out a scoff, getting up from your bed and starting to pace laps in your room. 
“I cannot believe this. You were the last person who I thought would do this to me.” You say, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 
“Y/n you know I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I-I care about you!” He says now getting up from the bed. 
He goes to reach out and grasp your arm but you step out of his way, causing him to stumble slightly. 
Not only are you fighting your tears, but you are battling your inner turmoil. Something like this would deem him unfit to stay in your life, no?
You couldn’t possibly still be his closest friend if he truly just used you for pleasure, right?
“Y/n please look at me.” He says, his hands now balling up besides his legs. 
“I can’t do this anymore. I want you to leave.” You speak barely above a whisper. 
“What?”
“I want. You. To leave.” Your voice cracks slightly, but you turn around to face him. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open, as if he isn’t quite sure that this is what you mean. 
Taking the initiative, you walk out of your bedroom and to your front door. You hear his footsteps behind you, murmuring a few ‘waits’ and ‘calm downs’. Grabbing his jacket, you shove it in his chest and step back. 
Your arms are wrapped around yourself for comfort as you keep your head held low. 
Seungmin silently puts on his jacket and shoes and reaches for the door handle. Yet, as he is about to open the door, he pauses midway through his movement. 
“Leave your house or leave you forever?” He says disconcertingly. 
You lift your head up, his back facing you. You assess him for only a moment. His hand that strangles the door handle shakes slightly and his other hand grasps his jacket. 
“Both.” You choke. 
He doesn’t miss a beat. Swinging open the door and leaving without looking back. 
Just like that, all those years of friendship cut abruptly due to the confounding circumstances that conspired between the two of you. 
Some could say it was rather quixotic of you to expect that you could actually have a relationship with Seungmin. 
Though you would just say that perhaps falling in love with your best friend was never the right path, but one you were unfortunate enough to take. 
i.n | 1.2k (1257) words
You can’t control the way you feel. You’re hurt. You’re beyond angry. You’re hysterical. How dare he talk to you like that? How dare he disregard everything the two of you have been through because he wants to stay your ‘best friend’?
You well and truly can’t promise that you won’t blow up on him when he gets here. That’s if he even bothers to show up. He’s already twenty minutes late and you’re sitting in the cold, on a park bench, drinking your hot chocolate.
“Y/n!” Jeongin calls out to you as he walks over to sit beside you on the bench.
“Where’s mine?” He says, his voice laden with sarcasm as he points to your drink. He quirks his eyebrow at you as he assesses your mood and it certainly isn’t one accommodating his jokes at the moment. 
Breathe…breathe…
He turns to face you, one leg crossed beneath him as his arm rests on the back of the bench, his gloved fingers tapping a beat on your shoulder. 
“Are you feeling better now? You’re gonna talk this out with me like the adults we are, hm?” He smiles.
You turn to face him, unable to mask your ire. 
“Just best friends huh?” You speak for the first time in a while. 
Jeongin stops tapping your shoulder to run his fingers through his hair. Tugging his coat closer around him to provide some sort of warmth to not only protect himself from the bitter chill of the air, but the icy look in your eyes.
“I admit, crossing those lines with you was never my intention. Being that I didn’t kiss or sleep with you because I wanted a relationship with you. I guess I was just lonely, you were available…tensions were high and we couldn’t control ourselves.”
You actually feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. This is not the Jeongin you knew and loved as your best friend. No, he was far nicer than what you’re currently faced with.
You are rendered speechless. The only thing you can think to do is take another sip of your hot chocolate.
It would be ideal if your hands stopped shaking.
“You get where I’m coming from though right? Like I said, I care for you. More than anybody else I know, but what we did was a mistake and that’s okay. We’ll know to never let those boundaries be crossed again alright?” He says placing a hand on your thigh.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Y/n–”
“Jeongin get your hand off of me, now.”
The smile that you used to adore, now falls from his face. His lips thinning as his jaw clenches and his gaze hardens.
“I genuinely thought that you had reason to be so pissy at me, you know, due to your work being so busy and all,” You laugh bitterly. “But you really are just a fucking asshole.”
He rolls his eyes and moves to get up before your hand reaches out to stop him.
“Sit the fuck down, I’m not done with you. I’m only going to say it once.” You say acrimoniously. 
Heeding your warning, he sits back down, his hands finding solace in his lap. 
“See, I was speaking with Hyunjin when you were supposedly too busy to talk to me and he gave me some pretty good advice.” You say finishing the rest of your drink and setting it aside. 
“What are you doing asking him for advice? He has no business knowing what goes on between the two of us, let alone an argument.” He spits.
Ignoring his disapproval, you elect yourself to continue. 
“He said that you don’t deserve me in your life. That a best friend would never, should never treat me like that–”
“Oh bull-fucking-shit! He is only saying that so that he can gets his filthy hands on you himself.” He interrupts, shaking his head as he looks beyond the lake at the horizon.
“I agree.” 
Jeongin nods his head in approval to your words. 
“You don’t deserve me in your life.”
His head snaps to yours as he sits up straight, clasping his hands together as he tilts his head.
“What?”
“I am not your little fucktoy for you to use whenever you get sick of your hand. I’m not the easy option because I’m the closest you can get to getting off without people catching on. You know because we’re best friends, right? No one will suspect a thing, right?”
You have started, gone past the point of no return as you lay into him and rightfully so. 
“I thought you had calmed down from earlier? What, did you discuss with Hyunjin all of the things to say to me before I got here? The fuck does he know? He doesn’t even know you like I do!” He exclaims, his voice raising in pitch. 
You gawk, unable to believe how he just bypassed what you said to talk shit about his friend. 
“This isn’t about Hyunjin for fuck’s sake! This is about us! Or rather the lack of.” You stand up, taking deep breaths as you pace in front of him back and forth. “You keep talking to me like I’m some fucking child. Like I can’t comprehend the words that are coming out of my mouth.”
You stop in front of him, sighing. 
“I don’t want to be in your life anymore. I’m done.”
His eyes widen as he grasps ahold of your hands, his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.
“You don’t mean that. You’re just angry. You want me to apologise? Okay sure. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used you like that and let it get that far knowing I wasn’t ready for a relationship.” He begs. 
You feel your eyes start to well up with tears. This isn’t how you imagined a six year friendship to end, but alas, here the two of you are. 
He stands now, moving his hands to cup your cheeks, his eyes darting between yours. 
“Come on. Let’s not act rash now Y/n. It was a mistake.” He keeps trying to reassure you. 
You shake his hands off of your face as you take a step back. 
“It wasn’t a mistake for me. It never was and never will be because I didn’t just see you as someone who was available. I’m serious, I won’t be treated like shit. Not anymore and certainly not by you.” You affirm. 
He lets his hands fall to his sides, his fists clenching. 
“So this is it huh? You really wanna leave me, leave six years of friendship because you got your feelings hurt?” He asks. 
“Fuck you, Jeongin. Don’t contact me ever again. I’m finished.” You say scoffing a laugh. 
You pick up your empty cup and start to walk away, not bothering to turn back to see how he reacts. Only then do you let the tears run marathons down your face. 
Little did you know, his fists unclenched and his hands were brought to his face. He collapses onto the bench, watching your figure get smaller and smaller until he can no longer see you. 
It was in that moment, where Jeongin only just realised how royally he had fucked up. His head falls into his hands as he takes deep breaths. 
The smoke caused from the cold air and the warmth of his mouth floating along the sky. Much like you, floating out of his life and disappearing. Lost to the abyss of a forever memory in his heart. 
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a/n: the plate is still full i fear because why do i hate this so much AHSGAIA SGAISBSKSVG (i apologise. i said i would deliver, but the package got lost in transit)
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rangerbarbz · 3 months ago
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Study Sessions
“Study Sessions”
Author’s Note: Had some time to start another blurb! (After reading Book of Bill I’m thinking about writing about Ford possessed by Bill idk) I hope y’all enjoy this one! Let me know what you think lovelies <3 EDIT: OH MY GOODNESS I DID NOT SEE ALL THE INBOX REPLIES I HAD I AM SO SORRRYYYY I HAVE SOME REQUEST IDEAS IN THERE I’D LOVE TO DO 
You had conquered every single class at Backupsmore with either an A or a B as your final grade. You wouldn’t say you were a genius by any means, but you took pride in your schoolwork and wished to graduate as soon as possible. This changed when you began taking physics. You had never been so stumped by a subject. The equations, the laws, and the Godforsaken labs were the bane of your existence. 
Your determined nature refused to let you fail, so you decided to ask your professor for help. He began doting on his star student Stanford Pines who had taken his class the previous semester and was excelling through the upper level classes. Your professor suggested reaching out to him because he had recently become a S.I. for the introductory physics and chemistry courses. He handed you a Post-It note with his name and the hours when he was going to be in the library. 
After your last class of the day, you strolled over to the library on campus, nervous for your first session. He was so smart and you were afraid that he would get frustrated with how little you understood this subject. You made your way to the S.I. lab on campus and tapped your knuckle on the wooden door that was open. There was no one at any of the tables, but there were scattered notebook paper scribbled on and a textbook open. 
“Hello?” you called, looking around for a sign of anyone. Suddenly, a head popped up from underneath the table. He had ruffled brown hair and black, square glasses. 
“Hello!” the man replied, getting up from the floor. “Sorry about that. I had dropped my pen before you walked in.” He then sat on the rolling chair and scooted it closer to the table. “I’m Stanford, but you can call me Ford. I assume you’re here for physics help?” 
You smiled. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Ford. Yes, I am here for physics. My professor recommended you to me.” You placed your backpack on the floor and sat in the chair beside him. “I just want to go ahead and warn you, I’ve had trouble in this class. I hope I don’t frustrate you too much.” 
Ford chuckled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I know you’re a smart girl. Do you have any homework that needs to be completed?” You felt your face become warm. Smart girl. You enjoyed him calling you that. There was nothing quite like academic praise to a scholar. 
“Uh, yes I do actually,” you answered, not letting your train of thought derail. You pulled your binder from the first pocket of your backpack and set it on the table in front of you two. “It’s ten problems, so if I miss more than three of them that means I have a D,” you continued as you removed the worksheet from the rings. “I am shooting for at least a C in the class overall.” 
He grinned at you like he was happy about doing physics. “Well, I believe you’re going to get no less than an A in that class.” You laughed at his confidence in you. 
“I don’t know about that, but I appreciate it, Ford,” you replied, twirling your pencil between your fingers. You gazed into his eyes; the sunlight from the window brought out hints of gold in his dark brown irises. Wow, they were so pretty.
He then cocked his head to the side. “Pardon? Did you just say ‘pretty?’” he asked with a smile tugging at his lips. 
Your face immediately became hot. Oh my God you spoke out loud not meaning to. Okay how do you save this conversation. You laughed nervously. “Pretty excited to start learning that is! Ha! Let’s get started, please. I can’t wait!” you exclaimed, all in one breath. 
Ford nodded. “What a great attitude to have, Y/N!” He then picked up his pencil and began to explain the first problem to you. He was so good at going into detail about every little thing. He was patient with you as well which was good because he kept on distracting you. 
The more you focused on him, the more features you noticed. His glasses had scratches on the wire rims, he had a prominent, square jaw, and he had unkempt sideburns. He was so damn good looking it made you want to study thermodynamics forever if it meant you got to look at him. 
You had actually gone through the homework quicker than you thought you would, so Ford asked if you would want to practice some extra problems on the blackboard. Of course you agreed. You walked up to the board ready to write whatever he threw at you but feeling self-conscious about being the center of his attention like this. He was still sitting at the table reciting the equation back to you while you stood out in the open. You then pushed your insecurity to the side in order to show him you had actually learned something today. He carefully observed you as you wrote, watching the cogs in your brain turn. He also was watching the way your face contorted in concentration and the way your fingers tapped against the chalk tray. 
“Alright. I think I’m done, Ford.” You moved to the side so he could see your final answer. 
He smiled at you, putting his hands on his knees to get up. “Let’s see what ya got,” he responded, walking over to stand beside you. You didn’t realize when he was sitting how tall he was compared to you or how broad his chest was. He began to mumble under his breath, making sure there were no mistakes present. “Everything looks good Y/N!” He then turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours. 
“You know, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Look at what you accomplished in just this short amount of time! If you keep on coming to my sessions, I know you can get through this class without worry.” Ford paused and looked back at the board, hands held behind his back. “It would make me happy to see you succeed.” 
You beamed back at him. Would it be inappropriate to kiss him right now? 
You (obviously) continued going to Ford’s S.I. sessions because your grade improved with each one you went to. You had also spent some time outside of the library together  by doing some photography of the wildlife around campus while Ford doodled in his sketchbook. People usually clocked him as an introvert, but he was not like that with you. He had opened up quite a bit to you about his past and what he wanted to do in the future. 
Today, you had met Ford on a bench outside his dormitory after your physics class had let out to share some good news with him. “Ford!” you called out. He looked up to see you waving a paper marked with an A+ in red ink. “Guess who got the highest grade in the class on the test last week?” you squealed. 
“Yes!” Ford said triumphantly, standing up quickly to pump his fists in the air. His sketchbook fell to the ground with some of the loose papers coming out. “I’m so proud of you!” You put your hands on his strong shoulders and jumped up and down. 
“Thank you thank you thank you! I’m just tickled pink right now,” you responded happily, bending down to pick up his drawings before the wind caught them. Ford’s face suddenly fell.
“Oh here I’ll get that,” he started, kneeling down on the concrete beside you. He was trying to pick up the papers that fell out as fast as possible, but you were faster. 
Your eyes grew wide as you picked up a paper with drawings of a woman reading a textbook, in a tree taking a picture of a bird, and one where she was just laughing. They were all you. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at them. They were so beautiful. 
“Y/N I’m so sorry. I- I can explain,” Ford stammered. “I- I have…liked you for a while now. You just are always on my mind, so I end up drawing you sometimes.”
“I like you too,” you cut him off. 
His face was flushed beyond belief. “I, well, uh-” 
“I’m going to kiss you now,” you stated. Ford’s eyebrows lifted as you closed the gap between you with a sweet kiss. He let out the tiniest sigh at the contact, his eyes fluttering close. You held his face in your hands and separated your lips from his to see his reaction. He was still blushing with a goofy smile on his lipstick stained face. 
“That was nice. Should’ve done that sooner,” he joked. You giggled and began to kiss him rapidly on his cheeks and forehead. You had left red stains of your lips with each smooch you gave him. 
“Yeah, you should have, smart guy.” He rolled his eyes and held your chin between his thumb and index finger to pull you in for another kiss. You smiled against his lips.
“I can’t wait to tell Fiddleford about this,” Ford murmured. 
“ And I can’t wait to see Fiddleford’s reaction to my assault on your face,” you laughed.
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seravphs · 1 year ago
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ITOSHI SAE x FEM READER
Sae might have rethought putting a ring on your finger if he knew husband duties included losing sleep to your overactive imagination. 
wc — 500
tags — married au 
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“Can you stop squirming?” 
Sae’s annoyed with you, but you can’t help it. You’re not normally afraid of the dark, but sometimes your mind plays tricks on you. 
Around you, the night stretches on like a kitten, soft and velvet. Your eyes have long adjusted to the dark, but your room is poorly designed. Inky shadows collect in every corner, crated by awkwardly shaped shelves and random divots in the wall. 
Like any normal, well-adjusted adult, you have no problem being in darkness. Just a few hours before, you ran a load of laundry without turning the lights on because you didn’t feel like it. But as you’re trying to fall asleep, your idle mind grows restless. 
It starts whispering the kinds of things that make you pull your feet away from the edge of the bed and shrink towards Sae’s comforting, warm body. 
“If you keep this up, I’m going to get my own bedroom,” he tells you. 
You both know it’s an empty threat. How could it not be when you wake up to his arms around you every morning? 
Still, it’s not nice of him to say that, and you let him know. 
“Don’t be mean, I’m scared!” Your grumbling is childish, but there are certain indulgences you’re allowed. 
“You’re too old for this,” he sighs, exasperated, but he lifts his arm so you can tuck in closer along his body. 
Just then, you feel something brush along your leg. You barely stifle a shriek as you forcefully push your body into Sae’s. It’s a hard collision that would knock the breath out of him if he wasn’t a professional soccer player. As it is, he makes a sound of discomfort when your elbow bumps into him. 
Up until now, you’ve been facing outwards, keeping an eye out for anything that might roam in the dark. At this moment, you peek out from under your covers, turning to look at Sae.
His face is entirely unamused. 
You try for a sweet smile, hoping he’ll relent and forgive you as he usually does. To his credit, he only cracks after he forces you to endure a prolonged, awkward stare-off. Then he groans, pinches his nose, and bodily drags you closer so you’re all but on top of him. 
Your head rests against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you, tucking you into the line of his body. Your legs tangle with his. 
“That better?” He says. “Nothing’s going to get you while I’m here.” 
“Now that you mention it,” you say jokingly, “you are a big, strong football player.” 
A peek at his face reveals what you already suspected. Sae’s cool exterior is hard to crack, but he’s always weak to compliments from his wife. He’s fighting a smile that’s apparent anyway, or perhaps you’re just good at reading him. 
“But you’ve trapped my legs,” you complain. “How am I going to run away if anything happens?” 
“Oh my god-“ Sae shoves a hand over your mouth and muffles any further commentary. “Go to sleep.”
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leaderwonim · 4 months ago
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𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — eleven: fair-weathered friends
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors
masterlist | previous | next
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Heeseung doesn’t know why you’re ignoring him, and he really doesn’t want to know.
He’s afraid he’s fucked up everything again, and that you’re just another person in his life that will walk away because well… you can.
“Hey Giselle,” Heeseung passes by the black haired girl, not knowing whether or not to come closer. He can’t get you alone, so the most he could do is talk to your friend.
“Uhm, yes?” She asks, clearly confused as to why Lee Heeseung of all people wants to talk to her.
She has an itching feeling it has something to do with you, but she won’t say anything about it.
“Why is Y/N upset with me?”
Ah, that confirmed Giselle’s assumptions.
“Well what do you think Heeseung?”
Heeseung has no idea. His palms are starting to sweat and he feels like he’s running out of breath. “I mean—I don’t know, I haven’t done anything.”
And he means it. He hasn’t. Has he?
“The gala, Heeseung. Ring any bells?”
It doesn’t. Not at first. He tries to remember everything that happened at Seojun’s gala. He drove you there, walked you in, then disappeared into the kitchen where he found Hanni.
Fuck, Hanni.
You must’ve seen him and Hanni together and thought something else was happening.
“Was it about me and Hanni? Because I swear nothing happened—”
“Heeseung.” Giselle puts her hand on his shoulder, stabilizing him in place. “I’m not the person you should be saying this to and you know that.”
“I know,” he frowns. “But she just won’t talk to me. What am I supposed to do here, Giselle?”
Giselle lets out a sigh.
“This is only because you’re the nicest out of all of them and I love Y/N.” She says sternly. “Come with me.”
Heeseung follows the girl to the empty corridor on the opposite side of the hallway, his head hung low trying to piece together what you saw that night.
“Explain yourself.” She says as she motions him to sit down across from her.
Heeseung takes a deep gulp, then starts to retrace everything that happened the night of the gala.
Heeseung knows that he shouldn’t give you the dress he bought for Hanni earlier in the year when he thought she was going to attend the gala with him.
It’d be preposterous—but it was a beautiful expensive dress nonetheless, and he’d hate for it to go to waste.
He always thought you looked beautiful in black. The first time he met you, at a party when the both of you were drunkenly dancing to The Smiths, you were wearing a short black dress, one that had him tripping over his own foot.
When you entered the gala with him, he felt on top of the world. He excused himself to get you drinks when he ran into Hanni with Sunghoon.
Of course she was with Sunghoon. In fact, as a final slap to the face to Heeseung, they were even wearing matching outfits.
“Hey,” Sunghoon greets the boy, and Heeseung pretends to be happy because he doesn’t want to ruin the group dynamic.
He’s truly never felt brotherly with Sunghoon, mainly because he felt like the boy was always out to get him. Hanni? She was Sunghoon’s. Top grades? That was also Sunghoon. It was like everything Heeseung tried to do, Sunghoon just beat him by a landslide.
And that just made Heeseung feel real shitty, all the fucking time.
“Can we talk Hanni?”
Heeseung is expecting a fight, at least from Sunghoon. But it’s as if the boy already knows he has won, giving a curt nod to the both of them as some sort of approval. Not like Heeseung needed it—he could do things with or without stupid Park Sunghoon’s approval.
Hanni pulls Heeseung upstairs. She knows Seojun’s gigantic house like the back of her hand. Seojun has always been like a second family to her, and even though the two were competitive hotheads, they loved each other in the way that brothers and sisters do.
“You showed up with her again?”
Hanni says that with such venom that Heeseung feels like he’s disappointed her all over again.
“I mean, what am I supposed to do here Hanni? You want me to wait around for you forever?”
Yes. Everybody knows Pham Hanni gets what she wants, and if she wants Heeseung to wait around forever, then she gets it. But he’s so fucking sick of it, he’s so tired of being around people who only find him beneficial when things are happy and content.
“You’re real classy Heeseung.”
And it feels like a slap in the face because Hanni knows just where to strike Heeseung where it hurts.
When she leaves, he runs after her. He doesn’t know why, but his feet carries him towards her.
He drives her home, the whole ride is silent except for the occasional huffs she lets out to know that she is not happy with him right now.
Heeseung knows Hanni isn’t the nicest girl at Decelis. She’s also not the most humble either, but that doesn’t change the fact that she has a great eye.
She knows designer clothes like the back of her hand, and she’s always flawless. Heeseung just wishes that for once, Hanni would use it to look at him.
“We’re here.” He says, unlocking his door to come over to her side.
“Don’t.” She says, as she unlocks her door by herself. She gets out, head bumping into Heeseung’s chest by how harsh she stands up.
“Hanni, I really don’t want to fight.”
“We’re not fighting.” She says, hand coming into her Miu Miu handbag to get her house keys.
“Hanni, please, just listen to me.”
She doesn’t even look at him, much less acknowledge him.
“I love you.”
That makes her stop shuffling through her bag.
“What?”
“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts.” He lets out a deep breath. “But I’ll never be enough for you, right?”
“Heeseung.”
He’s made it weird. He made it one hundred times worse. Oh God.
“It’s okay, I accept it Hanni. I know he’ll always be first. Sunghoon.”
Hanni doesn’t show any signs of emotions, her face still stoic as ever.
“I’ve tried everything I can to make you notice me. You were my first love Hanni, you were my first everything. I loved you first, not him. But I won’t ever be him, will I? No matter how hard I try, it’ll always be Park Sunghoon, won’t it?” He lets a few tears escape his eyes, wiping them away in a hurry. “I’m fine with that now. I’m fine with it because I don’t want to lose you Hanni. No matter how much it hurts.”
Hanni finally finds her keys, plugging them into her keyhole and opening her front door.
“It wasn’t.” She says slowly.
“What?”
“It wasn’t always Park Sunghoon.”
She doesn’t let Heeseung question her further. “You had too much to drink at Seojun’s so just go home, okay Heeseung? Go home.”
He knows that she knows he didn’t have anything to drink. Hanni knows he would never drive her under the influence. He wouldn’t put her life in danger like that.
He almost wants to fall on his knees at her doorstep when she slams it close, something he would’ve done months ago when he was still so inlove with her.
But he doesn’t. He just sniffles, wiping away the dried tears on his cheeks.
He sees a familiar car pull up, one whose lights shine so brightly that for a brief second, Heeseung’s eyes are blinded.
“Heeseung.”
The owner is nonetheless Park Sunghoon.
“Why are you not at the Gala?” Is the first thing Heeseung blurts out.
“I just drove Danielle home.”
Heeseung rubs his temple, a migraine was starting to formulate in his head.
“Okay, goodnight man.”
Heeseung doesn’t question why Sunghoon shows up at Hanni’s house, mainly because he already knows the answer to his question.
His mind goes back to you, the one person who despite all his flaws, sees right through Heeseung.
Lee Heeseung’s heart had always belonged to Hanni. Ever since he saw her the first time in freshman year when he still had braces on and his hair was all over the place. But now that he’s gotten older, now that he’s grown, he realizes that his heart didn’t belong to her anymore, but it belonged to you, the one person who actually understood Heeseung.
He knew he had to get back to the gala, to find you.
“Where are you going?”
“To Y/N, she’s still at the Gala.”
Sunghoon ears perk up, and he reaches out for Heeseung. “Heeseung, wait—”
“What?”
However, Sunghoon bites back his tongue, retracting away from Heeseung. “Uh, nevermind. Goodnight.”
It was weird, but Heeseung didn’t have time to think about it. He had you to worry about. The girl he actually likes.
“And when I got to the Gala, she was already gone.” Heeseung explains, his head hung low.
Giselle, after hearing Heeseung spill his guts out for the last twenty minutes, is stunned. She never knew how much heartbreak the boy actually went through.
“Come here Heeseung.” The girl says pitifully, opening her arms out to the boy.
He lets out a sob, letting himself melt into the arms of Giselle.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.”
And really, it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t going to be okay until he was able to explain his side of the story to you, but for now, Heeseung will just have to be okay with it.
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nicolinocolino · 6 months ago
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@wolfstarmicrofic | May prompt #3: love confession | word count: 882
“I dare us—“
Remus’s stomach swoops.
“—to drink this,” Sirius punctuates by setting a delicate glass vial of clear liquid onto the table between them.
“Veritaserum?” Remus asks. Dizziness overtakes him.
A spontaneous game of truth or dare in the Gryffindor common room ended moments ago with Lily daring James to go to bed. It earned laughs all around, although James took it as a euphemism instead of his right cue to leave her alone. It left him with a mouth hexed shut.
Now, with the stragglers headed to their dorms, Sirius and Remus are the only two left.
Sirius looks smug. “Brewed it myself.”
“Why?”
“Just to see if I could.”
They lock eyes with a long, dangerously charged glare.
“Okay,” Remus agrees, his rare Gryffindor courage taking over.
Sirius throws him a wicked grin that has him second guessing.
Remus drinks the potion first, just a sip to coat his tongue, then passes it to Sirius who does not break eye contact when pressing the vial to his lips.
“Is it working?” Sirius asks.
“Yes.” The truth leaves Remus immediately. This will be tricky.
Sirius leans forward, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. Ringed fingers cradle his face. “You go first,” he decides.
Remus swallows. He’s strung up like a kite. “All right. Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Why did you really brew the Veritaserum?”
“To move this along.” Sirius waves his hand dramatically in the air between them.
“This?”
“Us.”
Remus notices the first hitch he thinks he’s ever seen in Sirius Black’s throat, as if Sirius himself is startled by how reckless the truth feels coming up with no control.
“Truth or dare?” Sirius continues before Remus can respond.
“Dare,” Remus chooses, afraid.
“Really?” Sirius questions him. He sounds annoyed. “Fine then. I dare you to kiss me.”
The space between them shrinks. Sirius, on the opposite couch, still has his chin in his hands. His smile is sly and his movements coltish, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Having fun, even.
Remus does not move.
“What? Don’t want to?”
“No, I want to,” Remus confesses, then groans. “Don’t do that, Pads.”
“Do what?”
“Cheat.”
Sirius rolls his eyes. “Are you going to play or not, Moony?”
Remus stands up, crosses the distance, and sits next to Sirius on the opposite couch. He can feel his heart beat behind his teeth it’s so fervid; his hand shakes as he gently cups Sirius’s cheek. It’s difficult to think of anything more anxiety inducing than the moments before his transformation every full moon, but this comes awfully close.
“Well, Moons?” Sirius repeats in a whisper. His grey eyes bounce between Remus’s, wide and hopeful.
“Yes, I’ll play.” Remus tucks a strand of Sirius’s hair behind his ear and leans in.
Their lips barely meet before Sirius responds with earnest, smile blooming. Remus’s fingers drift back to comb through curls, tugging slightly. It’s rapacious. Sirius gasps and laughs. Remus can’t do this for much longer before the point of no return will ruin him forever.
“Truth or dare?” Remus pants, pulling away with a wild expression.
“Truth,” Sirius chooses. His lips are shiny, eyes dark. Remus wants to devour him.
“Am I a good kisser?”
“Yes. That was the best kiss of my life.”
Remus has to put some space between them soon before that point of no return opens up like a black chasm and becomes an inescapable void. He gets up quickly, awkwardly, and goes back to the opposite couch. The fire in the fireplace gives a sharp, crackled pop.
Sirius looks disappointed, rejected, almost angry. “Truth or dare?” He snaps.
“Dare,” Remus chooses again.
Sirius sets his jaw tight, exasperated. “I dare you to tell me how you really feel about me.”
Remus takes a deep breath. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers, the truth ringing in his ears after he says it. He hides his hot face in his hands and lets out a strangled, muffled scream. “You clever git. That’s cheating. Merlin, you really are bold tonight.” He risks a peek through his fingers at Sirius opposite him. Face unreadable, the weak flames of the fireplace dancing golden and scarlet across his face.
“Now ask me,” Sirius says softly.
“What?”
“Ask me,” he repeats. “The same.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
Remus hesitates. “How do you really feel about me?”
“I’m in love with you too,” Sirius is saying, already halfway off the couch, approaching Remus, tucking in next to him on his knees and grabbing his face with force, kissing him for the second time that night.
Love and hunger and relief and joy. And a little bit of panic. They pull at each other, kiss like they can’t get enough.
Remus breaks away. “For how long?” Veritaserum still coursing through them, he will milk the powerful truth potion for all it’s worth.
Sirius does not let their lips be apart for very long. “Moons,” he says through an open mouth. “It’s been all year.”
Remus melts.
“And you?” Sirius continues. “How long?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember,” Remus confesses.
Sirius slides a hand down Remus’s chest. He feels how heavy and quick it beats under his palm.
“It’s been so long, I don’t remember,” Remus repeats.
It must be the truth.
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zephyrchama · 6 months ago
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Vampire MC part II - with Mammon heads up - this one's a bit angsty and there are descriptions of pain
(intro/masterlist can be found here)
Mammon was having a rough time.
He was put in charge of you from the very beginning. You were his responsibility, his human to watch over. He blew it.
Nobody had been allowed near the castle to see you since the incident. Mammon got his ass severely handed to him by Barbatos every single time he tried visit. So for the last month, the second-born spent his time either locked up alone or out at the casino. Though, no amount of winning hands and jackpots could ease the knot of guilt tangled in his gut. He hardly ate and hardly slept. The Avatar of Greed wanted to see you.
Yet when you finally came home, he couldn’t bring himself to knock at your door. What could he say? Pretend like he didn’t royally mess up by letting you out of his sight?
Despite all you'd been through, you had to be the one to reach out. You tapped on his bedroom door with a hesitant "Mammon? Can I see you?"
There was a thud. He might have fallen out of bed in haste. No sooner had the door swung open than you were in Mammon’s arms. He tugged you into a tight embrace, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Man, I am so sorry.”
He feared letting go, he wouldn’t let you disappear again. It was sweet and welcoming and you felt his heart racing. That's the demon you knew.
Mammon clung to you so tightly. He dug his fingers into your sides in a fervent attempt to be closer, but there was something more. A hot sensation. As if boiling water was seeping through your shirt and dripping down your skin.
You hesitated, wondering if it was all in your head. “Wait… Mammon, that hurts.”
“Deal with it.” A whole month of loneliness, all his regret and despair, was packed into this hug. It was an important moment to him.
As the seconds ticked by, the pain grew. It couldn’t have been your imagination. It was searing hot, like a poker fresh off the flames. You pushed back, squirming in pain and confusion, desperate to suddenly escape his grasp.
“Let me go.” You began to panic. “Let me go, Mammon. Now.” You struggled to get away. Right before resorting to the pact, Mammon dejectedly released you, slowly loosening his hold. He gazed at you, pitifully upset.
“What…? Didn’t you want to see me?” His voice quivered.
You sucked in a sharp breath and winced, too preoccupied with rubbing the pain away to listen. It wasn’t getting any better, but at least now it wasn’t getting any worse. It just throbbed.
To investigate, you rolled up a section of your shirt. Around your waist where Mammon had gripped the tightest were deep red rashes. Such spots had not been there before. You didn’t want to touch them. You were starting to feel lightheaded and thirsty and didn’t want to make the situation worse.
“The hell!? I didn’t do that!” Mammon scrambled to your side, uncertain. Afraid to touch you again. “…did I?”
He wanted to do something, anything, to heal you and make you feel better, but what did he even do? He fixated on his hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Were they the issue? They were well-kept, as usual. His nails were trimmed neatly. His skin was flawless. He hadn’t been cursed as far as he could tell, nor had you, aside from the whole vampirism thing.
He stared intensely. Maybe it was one of his new rings. That morning he hadn’t even paid attention to what he put on, anything had been fine so long as it was attention-grabbing and gaudy enough to make him feel influential. A cheap distraction. Mammon flipped his hands, trying to figure out what was wrong. His face contorted into a loathsome scowl as he realized the error of his ways.
With a barrage of swears, he angrily yanked off every last ring.
“Damn it! Can’t believe I did this!” Some of the weaker stones and bands crumbled to dust in his clenched fist. The rest broke when Mammon pelted them at the wall at full force, leaving dent marks in the paint. He patted himself down, frantically emptying his pockets and ripping off a necklace.
You didn’t like seeing Mammon so agitated. It scared you. “What? What’s wrong?” The demons were terrifying when they got angry.
“Silver.” He practically spat the word out, and suddenly it all made sense. Surely Lucifer warned all of his brothers about this as part of your homecoming preparations. Whether they properly listened or not was another story.
A little silver ring could hurt you that much?
“Oh.” You fell down onto Mammon’s couch, dumbfounded that such a common thing was now so dangerous. You probably couldn’t wear some of the jewelry the brothers had gifted you anymore. You laid your head back. The ceiling lights were so bright and dizzying.
"Hey." Mammon knelt on the floor, hands on his knees, eyes level with yours. Close, but not touching. "Tell me what I gotta do to make this right."
"Right now?" You mulled over what would make you feel better, what could distract from the silver burns and make you feel normal again. "I just want you."
Mammon gently scooped you up with one arm supporting your back and the other hooked under your knees. "I've been waitin' so long to hear that."
His grasp was much more tender and he leaned you against his chest while awkwardly stepping up onto the couch, then turned around to sit and lowered you onto his criss-crossed legs.
You slowly draped your arms around his shoulders, listening to the beat of his heart. Mammon smelled amazing, and not just from whatever scent he chose to wear that day. It drew you to him. You tempted yourself with a closed-mouth kiss to his collar, slowly inhaling the pleasant aroma. This intimacy might be dangerous. You exhaled, keeping your lips locked against his skin as they parted just a sliver.
You felt too shy to glance up and meet his eyes. They were so fond of you, so full of relief and love, even though in that exact moment all you could think of was pushing him down and taking a nice meaty bite.
“Y’know… A lot of people’ve tried real hard to get even a single drop of my blood over the years. A lot of ‘em. For lots of reasons.” He reclined back into the couch cushions, leaning you on top of him with his arms gingerly wrapped around your ribs. Mammon put himself in quite the vulnerable position, neck within easy reach. “I always turned ‘em all down. But this... it’s a small price to pay if I get to hold you like this.”
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mxtantrights · 7 months ago
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Hello there, ‘tis I again! Soo happy you enjoyed the boxer!jason request!! I know, i love him too :)))
Today i bring forth another boxer!Jason ask, maybe you introduce him to your friends and they can’t see past the fact he kinda looks like a brute (even tho he’s such a big softie, i truly believe this man reads romeo and Juliet while waiting to get on the ring), and so at the end of the night he’s feeling insecure cause he could see how your friends looked at him and he starts wondering if they are right and you deserve someone who’s softer and more approachable. And obviously reader shows him just how amazing he is!!
Today i yearn for some good hurt/comfort, if you couldn’t tell lol
Hope you have fun writing this one!! Marvellous works 🩷🩷
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Everything goes right before the two of you get there. Thats how Jason knows something is gonna go wrong at this hang out. You told him all week that if he felt like not going, you could cancel. But he didn't want it to seem like he was blowing your friends off. So he trudged through.
He trudged through and is sitting side by side with you in a booth. And three of your friends are crowded into the other side of it. They've had a couple of drinks before you came. You weren't really in the mood to play catch up so you stick to your one while Jason goes dry because he's driving.
They have conversations about the recent news, the latest gossip, and then they ask about your life. Particularly your life with Jason. You start gushing about him, as if he isn't there, and tell them about how you met and how he treats you.
"This guy? This six foot tall, three hundred pounded brick wall?" one of them asks.
You scoff, "How he looks has nothing to do with how he treats me."
"Yeah, but doesn't he-don't you box?" another one of them asks him.
Jason clears his throat and sits up straight. But you notice it. You notice how he is trying to make himself smaller. He did it at the very beginning of your relationship, to make you less scared. You talked to him about it when the two of you got closer, and you haven't seen him do it since. Until now.
"I'm a boxer, yes. But I don't bring any of that home with me." Jason answers.
"Isn't it hard though? When you're angry? I mean who's to say you won't-" the third friend starts.
Hell. This has to stop.
"Enough." you speak.
They all look at you, at a loss for words. While it's true the four of you grew up looking like people who were afraid to tell others no, and looked like doormats, you were far from that person. Those days are over.
"I'm not gonna let you speak to him like that. He has been nothing but kind and open with me, and not that it's any of your business, but he has never laid his hands on me, or raised his voice." you say.
Then you're getting up from the booth, holding your hand out for Jason. He looks between you and your friends and then he's getting up from his seat. He takes your hand in his.
"He's my boyfriend. I want him in my life and I wanna be a part of his. So either you get that or you get lost." You put finally.
You turn around and walk right out the door with Jason. Jason who hasn't said a word yet. Jason who is holding onto your hand in a way that tells you he's not completely paying attention.
When the two of you cross the threshold of the doors, you squeeze his hand.
"Baby?" you ask him.
Jason looks at you then. Like everything is coming back into focus for him. He has a sad smile on his face.
"I'm sorry." He says.
"Don't ever be sorry for being you. If my so called 'friends' couldn't see past what you look like and what you do for a living then they don't need to be my friends." you explain to him.
Jason shakes his head, "You've known them longer than me. It's not fair that-"
"Jason Todd, I am not willing to give you up. For anyone. Ever. You got that?"
Jason lets out a small sigh. "Okay."
You let go of his hand to hold out your arms. He pouts a bit before stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you completely. You nuzzle into him more.
"I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I hope you know that." you add on.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"I swear it." you answer.
a/n: thank you so so much for sending this in! <333 I love some good hurt/comfort too!! I hope you like it!!
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323cutie · 2 months ago
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3:03 am | choi san
fluff. 600 words.
a/n ik milan fashion week is over but i started writing this when it was still a thing . I miss sannie
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You weren’t really expecting to call San tonight – especially not at this time. It’s late for you, and you’re almost entirely sure he’s still at the Dolce and Gabbana event he’s in Italy for. 
But you can’t sleep. And it may or may not be related to the fact that he’s in Italy to begin with.
So you take a chance – as the phone rings, you try not to get your hopes up. If he doesn’t answer, you’ll just have to try a couple more melatonin gummies, or maybe a warm cup of tea, or maybe you’ll just doom scroll until you finally feel tired enough, but you have work tomorrow so any sleep would be better than nothing –
“Hello?” San’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you feel all the tension in your body disappear completely. A gentle comfort, and familiar sound. 
“Hey,” you respond, voice a little breathless. You feel silly, emotional at the sound of his voice alone. “You still at that event? I’m not interrupting, am I?”
You can practically see the way he shakes his head. “No, we just got back to the hotel,” he says. There’s a pause, then a slight ruffle of sheets on his end, and then he asks, “everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you answer, immediate. And it’s not entirely a lie… but you hope he leaves it be anyways. You change the subject quickly. “Saw the pictures you posted.”
San humors you, offering a soft laugh (you wish you could hear it in your room with you). “Did you like them?” 
You nod, but remember he can’t see you, then hum in agreement. Rolling over from your back to your side, you put your phone on top of the pillow next to you. “You look pretty,” you tell him, voice gentle.
He does. All sunkissed skin and beautiful fabrics, he looks like he belongs, a piece of him meant to be in the heart of Italy. He looks lovely in that all-white suit, tailored perfectly to his proportions, an air of elegance around him. But you think your favorite post so far is the one he made when he first arrived – your Sannie, casual and sleek, warm and sweet. Glowing in the streets of Milan.
“You’re sure you’re alright?” San asks suddenly. “It’s way late for you, baby.” 
San sounds so tender, and you wish he was here with you. Fingers interlocked with yours in the dark, safe in his hold, sound asleep. You want to run your hands through his hair and look into his eyes and kiss him. Want to hear his pretty voice without the buffer of a speaker on a phone.
“Can’t sleep,” you tell him honestly. You wrap yourself tighter in your blankets. “...I miss you, you know.”
You thought saying it out loud would help, but the longing you feel only pulls itself tighter, connected to both you and San. Taut and painful, like an exposed nerve, an almost physical ache. There’s quiet on the other end of the call, and you wonder if maybe it dropped –
“Oh, sweetheart,” San murmurs, his voice so warm. “I miss you more.”
You feel unravelled with care, heart pounding at his words despite being with him for so long now. It makes your face hot and you feel the well of tears in your eyes – you sniff and San laughs, but it’s only fond. “I’ll be home soon,” he says, “Okay? Just wait a little longer.”
A noise of agreement leaves you because you’re afraid if you speak it’ll all come rushing out, but you take a deep breath and try to remember the smell of his cologne and the different colors in his eyes. You swear you feel a ghost of a touch from his hands.
“‘Kay,” you eventually respond. The world is a little blurry around the edges of your eyesight, your limbs heavy. “I love you.”
San’s response is immediate, and you manage to catch it before you drift off completely; his voice reaches you from across the world as he says, “I love you too.”
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dollwrites · 1 year ago
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— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!
all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high ( or, dizzy ) and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. if there’s no indication by the request, you can assume that the fic is nsfw + probably dark-leaning, if not blatantly dark. noncon, dub con, and other triggering content may be present, read with caution ( enjoy your experience <3 )
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kazutora doesn’t tell you he has a hidden piercing. oh no, he’d rather it be a surprise.
his car is still running, albeit thrown in park outside your apartment building. you’re leaned over the console, lips locked with his in a heated battle for dominance. your hands, which had previously gripped his hair, now fondled their ways downwards, from tugging at the neckline of his black tee to palming the shape of his bulge in his sweats. “fuck,” he pants into your mouth, grabbing your wrist and pulling it underneath the elastic band. his tongue rolls over yours, and a hot gust of breath tickles your countenance the moment you feel him. “more. feel me. here.”
of course, he wasn’t wearing underwear.
the warmth of his sex was too inviting, and you quickly sought out his base, wrapping your hand around it. you wanted to feel how sturdy he was, and how rigid his veins were. the way he barely fit in your hand had you whimpering into his mouth, your palm gliding upwards, massaging the tender underside, inch by inch, rubbing up to the tip.
“you’re so—“ It was a breathy, happy start. big. hard. either one of those two words could’ve come out, but instead your breath caught when your thumb ran towards the head to tease his slit, and you felt warm metal. you ran the pad of your thumb along a thin, metal crescent, roughly 2mm around, that hooked in through the slit and poked out along the flare of the underside of the tip, just above the frenulum. you were stunned at first, your eyes wide. you didn’t know what to say. “you have a…”
“you like it?” kazutora whispers, and he leans back in the seat, abandoning your swollen lips, panting, and grabbing the hem of his sweats to pull them down. his cock springs free, and smacks against his taut, lower abdomen, the silver ring glittering as it catches the headlights of passing traffic as they fill the cab of his car with flitting flashes of light. he glances down at it, and then back up at you with a ragged grin. he must’ve seen the way your eyes seemed to light up with curiosity and awe. “you can play with it.”
and you do, as gingerly as you could, afraid that it must be uncomfortable. however, when you gently pushed, smearing the very tip of your thumb over the silver, kazutora moaned, and rested his head against the back of his seat.
“Does it really feel… good?” you almost can’t believe how pink his cheeks turned until he looked at you, flushed and breathing heavily. there’s a faint smile that tugs at his lips as he runs one hand up to hold your jawline, cradle the shape and guide your face closer.
“Feels good,” he assured you in a heavy sigh, but he drags his mouth over yours, humming in a way that you know it was more of an invitation than information, his golden eyes closed under a rush of pleasure, “but it feels so much better when pretty girls give it sloppy, little kisses.”
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azriels-shadowsinger · 9 months ago
Note
you should totally do number 12 with az or rhys 🥺
“When have you ever cared?” “I’ve always cared.”
Azriel x Reader
wc: 2k
a/n: i always love a good rivals to lovers story. warning: descriptions of blood and injuries.
prompt list
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You hate Azriel. Absolutely hated him. You hate his cocky attitude, you hate the way he never wants you on missions, you hate the way girls seem to fawn over him at Rita’s, and most of all, you hate the way that you can’t stop being attracted to him. Which made the current situation worse, because you were having trouble focusing on training when Azriel was shirtless and sweaty sparring with Cassian across the ring.
After the fifth time of you getting knocked onto the floor by your sparring partner after getting distracted, Emerie eventually gave up on you.
“How are you supposed to be ready for your mission tomorrow if you are so unfocused?” she laughed.
“I’ll be fine. I do-“ You stop speaking when you feel a shadowy presence lurk over you.
“Can I help you Azriel?” You ask sarcastically, turning to face him.
“You’re not going.” Azriel replied gruffly.
“Excuse me?” You scoff.
“I said you’re not going on the mission.” You roll your eyes. Of course he would try to keep you off of yet another mission. You had prepared for that and got Rhysand to personally ensure that you could go this time.
“Take that up with Rhys. He said I’m going.” You say with a victorious smirk.
“We’ll see about that.” He grumbles, storming off towards Rhysand’s office. You wait patiently with a smug smile on your face, pretending to be preoccupied with sharpening your daggers, as he returns.
“You will not do anything without my say so. You will not stray from the mission at all, under any circumstances. If I give an order, you follow it. Do you understand?” He spits angrily, obviously upset over Rhysand’s decision.
“Whatever you say, spymaster. I’ll see you at 6 AM to head out.” You say smugly and turn to leave.
———
You meet Azriel the next morning, and he is already visibly agitated. After an overly detailed discussion of the mission plan, he winnows the two of you to the mission spot.
Azriel made sure to reiterate the plan again once you arrived, earning an annoyed eyeroll at the implied lack of faith in your skills. The plan was that he would infiltrate the safe house, capture the enemy, and extract him from the building to bring him back for interrogation. You were only there to help carry the unconscious body, apparently. You reluctantly agree to the plan, realizing that arguing would get you nowhere. At least you were allowed to join this time.
“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Be ready to winnow.” He whispers before disappearing into the shadows.
Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. After forty minutes, you were fully convinced something had gone horribly wrong.
Fuck it. You didn’t care if he got pissed, you’re going in to check that everything is okay.
You move closer to the building and peek into the window. No movement. You sneak closer to the door, slipping inside inconspicuously. Upon entering, you begin to scan the area for any signs of Azriel. You walk further inside turning the corner, and that’s when you see it: blood on the floor, and Truthteller lying discarded next to it. That cannot be a good sign, you think while trying to shove your panic down deep. You quickly pick up the abandoned blade and examine the area closer, following the trail of blood and the sound of voices through the halls. When you finally reach a large room, you see exactly what you were afraid of. Azriel is bound against the wall unconscious and bloody. The target is watching him while conversing with someone, twirling a knife in his hand.
“Just kill him already.” The other fae complains.
“No. Do you not realize who this is, you imbecile? This is the spymaster of the High Lord. Once Rhysand realizes he is missing, he will come try to rescue him, and then we can finally take that undeserving half-breed out. Hopefully, he brings the general, and we can kill the bastard too. Only then will I kill the shadowsinger, but not until we get to have our fun with him. I’m sure there are some juicy secrets of the court we can carve out of him.” You feel nauseated at the sickening grin on the male’s face.
Your duty is to this court, and cannot allow Rhysand and Cassian to be put in danger over this. Nor can you sit by and watch Azriel be tortured by this cruel, idiotic male. Idiotic because he didn’t use magical bindings to lock Azriel up, allowing his shadows to roam free. They circle their master, obviously frantic that he cannot hear them.
A small shadow darts towards you, and soon the rest follow. The shadows swirl around you, expectantly, going completely unnoticed by the two males.
“Um, I’m not entirely sure if you can understand me, but I have a plan. If you all could make it very dark in here, that would be great.” You ask awkwardly, hoping the shadows understand. They apparently do, because soon the entire room goes dark, except for the path between you and Azriel.
“What the- hey!” You hear the other male yell and footsteps run towards you. Unable to see through the shadows, you throw a dagger towards the noise. Without checking to see if you hit your target, you hurry to free Azriel from his chains. Once his hands are free, you grab onto him and attempt to winnow.
Winnowing long distances was always a challenge for you, you’re not sure why. What takes others a single jump takes you five. You hold tightly to Azriel and try to winnow. The world around you begins to fade, turning into blackness. Before the sight can completely fade, however, you see a knife come hurdling towards you, landing directly in your thigh.
The sudden burning pain causes you to lose focus, and the world abruptly reappears around you, causing both you and Azriel to land face first in the dirt of a random forest.
“Fuck!” You yell in pain. Either the fall or the sound of your yelling seems to have roused Azriel because you hear faint grumbling beside you before he falls unconscious again. As you attempt to stand, searing pain shoots down your leg from the wound in your thigh. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the stabbing ache. Now is not the time to focus on your pain. You need to get the two of you to safety, you remind yourself. You pull the blade out from your leg with a cry. Once you compose yourself again, you wrap a piece of cloth torn from your shirt around your leg to stop the bleeding. You grab ahold of Azriel again and attempt to winnow, but for some reason, you can’t. That’s when you notice the faint green tinge on the discarded blade.
“Gods damned faebane.” You curse lowly. You won’t be winnowing anywhere for a while. It’s likely in Azriel too, meaning you two are stuck. Great.
———
It took over an hour to drag the giant Illyrian through the forest, finally finding an abandoned cabin. By the time you reach it, you feel lightheaded from the blood loss and from hauling Azriel. There is absolutely no way you could lift him, so once he is safely inside on the floor, you search the cabin for first aid materials. You find a roll of gauze and a bottle of liquor. That will have to do, you think.
You manage to bite your tongue through the pain of cleaning and dressing your wound and begin to work on Azriel’s. As soon as the alcohol-soaked cloth touches his cut, the male jolts up in a panic. One quick look around at the unfamiliar cabin and you tending to his injuries, and Azriel freaks.
“What the hell happened? Where are we? Are you bleeding?” He fires on a string of questions, one after another.
“Breathe. We’re okay. You got captured, not entirely sure how honestly, and I had to save your ass. We are waiting here until the faebane leaves our systems.” You try to sound calm, but that doesn’t stop your racing heart. Azriel thinks for a moment, looking around the cabin. His eyes land on the bloody bandaged wound on your thigh again, and he immediately becomes angry.
“You came in after me?” He barks.
“Uh, yeah?” You ask, confused at his anger.
“You disobeyed a direct order!” Azriel growls.
“You were in trouble!” Why the hell are you having to defend yourself for saving him?
“I don’t care. You should’ve followed orders. I would’ve gotten myself free eventually.” He snaps. You huff in annoyance.
“You stupid arrogant male, they were going to torture you! And then use you to lure Rhys and Cass and kill them too! How the hell was I supposed to sit by and let that happen?” You scream angrily. He attempts to stand, wincing at the pain. You want to tell him that he should stay sitting, but it’s unlikely that he will listen.
“You should’ve stayed outside.” He growls, stalking closer.
“You would be dead if I did that!” You stare him down in defiance.
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have gotten hurt!” That makes you pause. Is that why he’s angry, you wonder.
“Despite what you may think about my skills, I’m perfectly capable of withstanding a minor injury from a mission!” You argue.
“You shouldn’t have to.” He spits coldly.
“Since when do you care what happens to me?” You scoff.
“I’ve always cared.” His voice drops to being barely audible and he turns away. You freeze.
“What?”
“Nevermind. I’m gonna start a fire while we wait.” He grumbles. You walk around him to face him, blocking the fireplace.
“No, what did you mean you’ve always cared? You hate me. Everyone knows it.” You ask hesitantly. This must be some new attempt to embarrass you or something, you rationalize.
“I’ve never hated you.” He whispers, avoiding eye contact by staring at the floor.
“I don't understand. Then why do you always keep me out of missions? Why do you ignore me any time I try to be nice?” You ask angrily.
“I… fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair before looking you in the eyes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Either from missions or by me.” The last words come out quieter than the rest. “I thought that ignoring you and keeping you off missions would keep you kept you at a safe distance. I didn’t want to risk you being targeted just because of how I feel about you.” Your eyes soften at the admission.
“That wasn’t your decision to make. I get to decide what is worth the risk for me.” You say in a gentler tone. Azriel looks at the floor again, shaking his head.
“You don’t get it. Today is a perfect example. The people in my life that I care about are constantly at risk.”
“Did I not handle myself?” You ask, causing him to sigh.
“That isn’t the point. You don’t-“ You cut him off, pressing a kiss to his lips. Azriel stands frozen for a second, before quickly wrapping his hands into your hair and holding you closer. “Fuck it.” He mumbles while kissing you, backing you into the wall.
It’s safe to say that you and Azriel found very good use of your time while you waited for the faebane to wear off.
———
Rhysand was less than thrilled to hear about the unsuccessful mission when you returned. After you two showed him what happened, obviously leaving out what happened at the cabin, the three of you made a plan to go back and capture the two males. Azriel tried to argue about you going, but one stern look from you and he quickly shut up.
“Well, it seems like you two sorted out your issues.” Rhys laughs, not noticing Azriel’s smirk.
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prompt list
tag list: @fxckmiup
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soulofapatrick · 9 months ago
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Nothing Changes - Aaron Hotchner x female reader
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Summary: You wake the next morning to an empty bed and panic
Words: 1.3K
Warnings: None; fluffy
Notes: I'm really sorry for writing so much Hotch, I'm rewatching criminal minds and all these story ideas for him have been on my mind
Waking up to an empty bed, I feel my heart sink as the realization hits me: Hotch isn’t lying beside me anymore. Panic flutters in my chest as my mind races through a flurry of thoughts. Of course, he left. He couldn’t stay, not without risking our jobs, our reputations, and maybe even our friendship. What if one of the team found out? What would they think of me? They’d probably assume I’m taking advantage of Hotch, especially considering it’s only been two years since Haley’s passing. The man seems to still be grieving, and here I am, complicating things even more.
The distant sound of the shower running breaks through my panic, and relief floods through me, mingling with a tinge of nervousness. Maybe he hadn’t left entirely. Maybe there’s still a chance, a hope that last night wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness, but something more. Last night was the first time we gave in to the building sexual tension between us.
His clothes are still strewn across my room, a tangible reminder of the intimacy we shared. I can’t help but replay the events of last night in my mind—the way his touch ignited a fire within me, the way his eyes held mine with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. The way he was so gentle yet so dominant, knowing how to work my body right.
As I slowly come to wakefulness, the sound of the shower grows louder, filling the empty space with its steady rhythm. Part of me longs to join him, to lose myself in the warmth of his embrace once more. But another part of me hesitates, afraid of what this newfound connection might mean for us both.
Before I can decide both of our phones are ringing, the shrill sound makes my head hurt and I’m groaning, burying my face in the pillow Hotch had previously slept on. The phones ring till they stop and I count to four before both start ringing again, ruining the peace this almost domestic moment.
I’m smacking the bed in faint protest before wriggling over to the nearest phone and answering, “Yeah?”
No one speaks for a second before I recognise JJ clearing her throat, “We need you in, we’ve got a case.” There’s amusement in her tone that has me frowning before my heart drops for the second time this morning.
“JJ…” I pause, swallowing thickly, “This is Hotch’s phone, isn’t it?” I groan, turning my head to look at the bedside table to see my phone sitting there, “Oh god!”
“I won’t say a word,” She pauses and I hear her stifle a small laugh, I won’t tell if you tell me all about it on girls night.”
“Deal.” I reluctantly agree before hanging up and throwing Hotch��s phone somewhere on the bed.
I climb out of bed, feeling the cool air against my skin as I pad to the bathroom, wearing nothing but Hotch’s button up I throw on haphazardly, not bothering to do it up.
Hotch stands under the shower, his silhouette obscured by the mist, like a figure emerging from a dream. The gentle stream of water traces the contours of his body, sculpting shadows and highlights that accentuate every line and sinew. Droplets cling to his skin, glistening like diamonds in the soft light filtering through the steam.
His shoulders, broad and powerful, bear the weight of countless burdens, yet in this moment, they seem almost weightless, as if the water washes away the weight of the world. The water cascades over his chest, tracing the ripple of muscle, each movement a testament to strength and resilience.
His jawline is sharp, chiseled, a portrait of determination and resolve. The water courses over it, tracing the curve of his lips, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners. There’s a vulnerability in that smile, a glimpse of the man behind the stoic facade, and it steals my breath away.
His eyes, closed in peaceful repose, are hidden from view, yet I can imagine them so clearly—deep pools of darkness, windows to a soul that has weathered storms and emerged unbroken. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and in that moment, I feel as though I can see straight into his.
Every inch of him is a study in contrasts—the strength and vulnerability, the resilience and tenderness—all wrapped up in one beautiful, complex package. And as I watch him, bathed in the gentle embrace of the water, I feel something stir within me, something deep and unspoken.
It’s as if with each droplet that falls, my heart beats a little faster, my breath catches a little tighter. In that moment, I realize just how deeply I’ve fallen for him, how every part of me longs to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and never let go.
I give in to that want, stepping towards the shower, the warm water enveloping me like a comforting embrace. With a quick motion, I shrug off his shirt, feeling the fabric slip from my skin, and I step under the water next to him. Droplets cascade over us, mingling with the steam, as I close the distance between us.
My fingers tremble as I reach out, brushing lightly up his toned bicep, tracing the contours of muscle beneath his skin. A small sound escapes him, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, as he looks down to meet my gaze. His cognac eyes soften as they meet mine, warmth and affection swirling within their depths.
His hands find my hips, fingers tracing patterns against my skin, as if mapping out the curves and contours of my body. There’s a tenderness in his touch, a gentleness that belies the strength of the man before me. With each caress, he stirs something deep within me, igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment.
I feel a surge of longing, an ache that resonates deep within my soul, as his touch sends shivers coursing through me. It’s as if every nerve in my body is alight with electricity, every sense heightened by the intensity of his presence.
And then, without hesitation, he pulls me flush against him, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss. It’s a collision of desire and longing, a meeting of souls bound together by the undeniable pull of attraction. His lips are soft against mine, a gentle exploration that sets my heart ablaze.
“Can we just stay here?” I mumble, pulling away from the kiss to rest my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my cheek. I don’t care if we’re late, if I have to dry my hair before we leave, if we miss the plane. I don’t care for anything except the safety of Hotch’s strong arms wrapped around me.
“I don’t suppose the only reason you came in was to shower with me, was it?” He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him, an eyebrow raise and an amused look on his face.
“No,” I can’t help but pout, drawing a chuckle from him and he ducks down to press a kiss to my forehead, “we have a case.”
“Well,” he brushes my now wet hair from my face, “We have about an hour.”
“It takes me 45 on a good day Hotch.” I grumble and his eyes widen a little in disbelief as I’ve never told anyone where I live let alone how long it takes me to get to work until now. Until the very man I’ve been dreaming of for months is standing, very, very naked in my shower.
“Alright sweetheart, we’ll pick up some coffee on the way in.” My heart flutters at the pet name, my cheeks heating up and I’m burying my face in his muscular chest, “Sweetheart?”
“What happens when we enter the office?” I mumble against his chest.
“Nothing has to change.”
“Nothing has to change?”
“I promise”
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Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023
@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka
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luminique · 1 month ago
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Imagine Lighter proposing to his s/o. He wants to be with his beloved for all eternity but he’s so afraid of ruining the proposal that he had to ask the girls, Big Daddy and Billy for help with the proposal.
Cue the most anxiety ridden and beautiful moment of Lighter’s life as he tries to propose to you (probably at Cheesetopia) while his team/family are helping him behind the scenes with everyone having earpieces. Everything was going smoothly until he can’t find the box. He’s shaking and losing his composure as he tries to find the box containing the engagement ring, he finds it but drops the box a few times with Billy having to distract his s/o from noticing that he dropped the box, and then he finally gets down on his knees to propose because Caesar and Lucy were screaming in his ear to just get down on his knees and tell his s/o that he wants to marry them.
Cue you looking at Lighter and seeing him propose to you. You’re seeing that ring, a beautiful ring with yours and his birthstones shaped into an infinity symbol, and the flashbacks of the first day you met him to the day you knew you were always going to be his are running through your mind. You knew the answer right away. You and Lighter were forever ride and die. Literally.
Now, cue the tears of joy down his face when you screamed “Yes!” and him twirling you around in pure joy as the Sons of Calydon are celebrating their Champion getting married. All that’s left is figuring out how to have a wedding.
THIS IS YUMMY ??!! I AM EATING IT UP !!
i fear i have a lot of difficulty writing prompts like these but this is so good on its own, i feel like i have nothing to add and will just share this to all the lighter enjoyers !!
hes so loveable boyfailure. i think that initially, he was just planning for a simple and quiet proposal but the SoC girls protested. a simple proposal FOR YOU ?? no. it HAS to be perfect. even the days leading up to it, he’s an absolute wreck that he could barely get a wink of sleep the nights before. what if you reject him? what if you’re not ready? what if it all goes wrong?
while he’s worrying about everything, you’re literally going about your day. i think the whole of blazewood would be in on the plan and you’re the only one who doesn’t know.
lighter had told you to meet up with him at cheesetopia, there was a new dish on the menu he wanted to try (he made up this excuse). so you get there and the exterior is decorated beautifully but no lighter in sight. he’s busy fumbling with the ring box while billy is just making some small talk. once billy gets the cue to leave, you’re still walking around a little, looking for lighter.
a tap on your shoulder, the sound of pebbles crunching under his shoes. you turn around and see lighter on one knee, he’s taking off his shades and pulling out the small box from his pocket. you could see the clear blush on his face and a little sweat glistening on his forehead from the anxiety of it all.
you knew the words that would come out of his mouth before he could even say it. the response came out faster than he anticipated, making a sigh of relief escape his lips. it takes him a moment to actually register your reply but once it did, it took no time for him to get up and give you the tightest hug before twirling you around in his arms.
everyone else were practically celebrating along with lighter. billy was already crying even before you said yes, burnice’s flamethrowers were acting up like fireworks, caesar and lucy were exhausted but looked proud, and piper was clapping to show her sleepy excitement. it was a momentous occasion for the SoC, and especially for you and lighter.
134 notes · View notes