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doromoni · 4 months ago

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On the Defence | LN4

Part 2 of Off Time

Ships : Lando Norris x F1 Presenter! Reader

Genre : Angst, Fluff

Subtags : She fell first; He fell harder, Misunderstanding, Mutual Pinning, Groveling

A/N : Dude this was supposed to be just a two part story 😭 Lmao be ready for a mini series folks!

Summary : You have pursued Lando's affection, yet he doesn't seem interested. Till your patience wavers and Lando realizes it too late. Will there be a right time for the two of you?

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Lando was used to being at the top of the world. To be always at the fastest speed possible. He was hard-wired to be quick both on track and off track, his pace in life had never had the chance to just slow down and appreciate the small things in life.

Until he lost you. Lando had never noticed how big of an impact you’ve made in his life. The small gestures you made that went unnoticed till it was gone. The minuscule moments with you that seemed to be irrelevant, Lando now craved.

It started with tea and snacks.

“Uh, John… the tea tastes weird. Also, I liked the old biscuits better, why did you change them?” Lando said disappointed, as he examined what was in front of him. The tea was way off like it was watered down yet still unbelievably bitter. And the biscuits… Lando couldn’t explain it really, it just felt like it lacked … love. If that made sense

Lando then set his eyes on his manager, still disgruntled.

John popped his head into the driver’s room, surveying what the Brit was moaning about.

“Oh, that. Yeah, Y/N stopped sending stocks of the tea … last race was our last batch and when Y/N came by she didn’t drop off any cookies for you this time” John answered, sending a rueful smile.

Lando’s attention was suddenly caught at the sound of your name. You were the one who sent the tea? Lando had always thought that McLaren was the one to make the effort to supply his favorite tea.

Now the knowledge that it was you, made his heart speed up and his stomach fluttered— but then it came crashing down like a glass house instantly when Lando realized past tense… it was past tensed. You no longer did that for him.

“Wait. What do you mean by not dropping any for me? Did Y/N give her cookies to someone here?” Lando had fully processed what John had said.

“Yeah, I saw her come by early this morning with cookies in the lobby and Oscar came to get her” John uttered casually as he checked his schedule looking through Lando’s calendar.

Lando’s heart then fell to his stomach. The worst suddenly came into his mind. You and Oscar? When did that happen? He knew that he was jumping to conclusions, but he couldn’t help it. He may have been blind to your beauty and brilliance, but he knew that others were not. How can they not? You were the sunshine in the storm. You were a breath of fresh air in the ethanol-tainted atmosphere of Formula 1.

Then came the overly silent or the overly deafening car rides, there was no in-between—the peace was gone. It was either no sound at all or it was EDM booming in his speakers. You were no longer there to provide a sense of calm, Lando had deeply and truly felt the emptiness that your absence left.

He regretted complaining to Flo and his parents when they insisted that he gave you rides everywhere. Was he an idiot? He thought so now, especially when he recalled always saying “She can handle herself, why do I need to drive her?” Because now he would give anything to have you sitting on the passenger seat of his car. He used to hate it when you left your hair ties or claw clips in his car, now your hair ties resided in his arm like a bracelet and your hair clips in his bag— just in case you needed them.

Lando knew that the longer he waited the faster he’d continue to lose you and he saw his chance. The post-race interviews had concluded and Lando was in his car, reversing out of the driver’s only parking lot. Then he saw you typing away at your phone beside the door that connects the building and the parking spaces. Lando saw his opportunity.

The English driver hastily drove his car in front of you, parking beside the curb and making his way towards you.

Your eyes opened wide at the sight of Lando Norris right in front of you, looking fidgety and uncertain, but he looked determined. You didn’t know what to do or react, so you waited for him to start.

“Y/N! Hi. I didn’t see you in the Motorhome after the race” Lando started talking trying to act as casual as his speeding heart could muster.

“ Uhm, Hi Lando. Yeah… I had to finish some paperwork back at Sky ASAP. “ You replied, smiling lightly at the driver not having the courage to fully look into his eyes head-on for the entire conversation.

“ I get that. Are you heading somewhere? I could drive you if you’d like” Lando offered earnestly, hoping that you’ll accept. He just needed time alone with you to talk without restrictions.

Lando gauged your reaction that cycled around, shock and contemplation. Till you sighed and declined, distinguishing his hope and continuing to crush his heart.

“Thank you for the offer, Lando. But, Osc already promised me a ride” You gave a pained smile at the English driver. Lando was about to refute when the both of you turned towards the sound of a car horn.

It was Oscar who was waving inside his Artura.

“ I got to go, It was nice talking to you Lando,” you said as you proceeded to walk towards the car, not before being stopped by Lando.

Your eyes went towards the hand that held your elbow gently. You then met the sorrowful eyes of the English McLaren driver, catching you off guard.

“Y/N can we please talk? Sometime maybe? I’m sorry … I- I. Please I just need a few minutes of your time” Lando was practically begging you, his eyes showing more emotion now than the entire duration you’ve known him.

You could only nod, as you detached yourself from the grip of Lando — looking at the defeated driver one last time before entering his teammate’s car right after.

“You know that Lando wants to fix things with you right?” Oscar nudged your shoulder as he drove away from the circuit.

You could only sigh and close your eyes, your hand running through your hair.

“ Osc, I wished I could believe you. It just hurts so much you know? I mean you saw him with Magui right… I don’t want to step on any toes and make things complicated for them” You said tired and frustrated. Lando was already too hard to let go, now he’s making it extremely difficult to forget.

“Y/N, have you seen her in the paddock recently?” Oscar questioned you further

“Well, no. But that doesn’t mean they’re over. Alex even said that she heard from Kika that they’re planning to make it serious.” You felt the tears build up, yet you fought it back. You would no longer cry for a boy if you could help it.

“Ok, you out of all people should know what’s credible information or not. Miss journalism, what happened to never fully believing he said - she said?” Oscar was right of course, you loved and hated his logical thinking.

“I know, I know. It’s just so fucking frustrating… can we please eat ice cream. I need sugar pronto!”

“Whatever you say, Pooh” You couldn’t help but smile a little at your nickname given by the Australian driver.

“Thanks, Pingu,” You said settling further into Oscar’s car. You knew that Oscar allowed you to change the subject but you got what he was saying. Talk to Lando, you will! You didn’t know if you were ready just yet.

That was the start of Lando’s starvation for your presence and the start of his spiral of doubt and regret. Because no matter how much he tried, you seemed adamant to avoid him.

“Beautiful” came into Lando’s mind when he saw you from afar. Every time that you walked passed through, the smell of you lingered in the air — was it your perfume or your shampoo? Lando was not sure, but he loved it nonetheless. Every time you waltzed inside the McLaren Motor home to hang out with his teammate, Lando couldn’t help but imagine it was him that you were with, that it was him that you were smiling and rolling your eyes at. Lando wanted back how you used to have that look only for him.

He couldn’t help but stop and stare longingly for what might’ve been if he hadn’t taken too long.

The times when you were shown in the broadcast during the races — when he knew that he was supposed to be locked in and be focused on the track. Lando can’t seem to take his eyes off you.

His parents and sister noticed the change in the driver and they could only look with pity to their son and brother. It seemed that the tables had turned because now it was you who avoided the English Driver at all costs. Every time Lando caught a glimpse of you, you were suddenly turning the other way or you were suddenly busy with who knows what. And the Norrises didn’t hold it against you— No, because they loved you still and they supported your every decision.

Lando couldn’t stand the fact that he could only get you to look and talk to him during after-race interviews in the media pen and even then you remained detached and so excruciatingly professional — you no longer joked around and teased the McLaren driver. And it killed him when he saw you so carefree and open to other drivers.

“So Lando, that was an amazing drive! Congratulations on the P2 by the way. McLaren is showing amazing and consistent results so far, I bet the team feels proud no? And the car has been quick at every track!” Y/N said into the mic with a practiced tone and just the right amount of enthusiasm — just enough for the media and the world not to notice the tension between you and Lando.

Being indifferent was difficult, especially when Lando continued to gauge your attention and tried catching your eyes. And behind those eyes held promise and regret… which you only believed was in your imagination. You always thought some things present that weren’t there, and this one was only one of them.

You didn’t think that Lando was trying his best to make things up to you. No, now to you that seemed impossible. Just keep your distance and everything will be alright and your feelings will pass. Or that was what you keep telling yourself.

“Just the car?” Lando cheekily uttered, biting his lip from nervousness as he tried to make you react or at least get you to joke back. But to his dismay, you remained professional and just proceeded with the calm and cool facade.

“Oh, the driver too of course. Anyways, are you feeling optimistic about the next race?” You said to read your question cards, not give anything to Lando.

To Lando’s dismay, your interaction was still not enough but he had to move on as another driver was waiting for their turn. Lando had tried to lengthen his time with you but his PR manager needed to drag him elsewhere. But not quick enough that Lando caught the ears of your next interview.

It was with surprise, surprise… Oscar Piastri. Lando knew that he shouldn’t be thinking negatively about one of his teammates — a teammate who had never done him wrong. Was he being paranoid? He absolutely was. However, Lando despised how his teammate casually called you by your nickname while you giggled and called him by his.

“Ah~ Pooh! Always a pleasure to see you every race week…. every. single. week”

“Thanks for the sarcasm, Pingu” You continued to banter with the Austrian driver clad in papaya.

***

Another race week came and you were walking outside the Motorhome of McLaren with Oscar in tow, you were both headed towards Ferrari to meet up with the rest of the Leclerc family— Oscar pleaded to join as he said he was an adopted Leclerc. As you walked out the glass door, you felt eyes following your every move. You told this to Oscar, who only shrugged and was clueless as usual.

However, your instincts were right of course, as Lando continued to observe your retreating form. Since when did you start getting comfortable enough to loop your hand around Oscar’s waist? And since when did you let Oscar wrap his arm around your shoulder?

The sinking feeling in Lando’s gut continued to deepen. It felt like a ton of bricks right on his chest, so heavy he couldn’t breathe. Was this how you felt when you saw him with other girls? Was this the same feeling you had when he paraded his monthly flings right in front of you? Did he hurt you this much?

He was so preoccupied with thoughts that Lando didn’t notice the events around him then suddenly he was moving with the rest of the drivers in the parade car. The rest were paired up, doing their usual routine of gossiping and catching up.

Lando’s eyes surveyed the vehicle as his eyes turned to his teammate talking with Logan and Alex. His eyes then turned to Lewis talking with Charles, a few steps away from him.

“Mate, is it true? Is Y/N seeing someone?” Lewis couldn’t help but gossip and hear the details of their favorite presenter.

“I’m not sure, but my girl told me that another driver was showing interest in Y/N!” Charles eagerly joined Lewis in this conversation.

As Lando eavesdropped on the 2 Future teammates, his ears piqued when he heard your name. Then his breath staggered and his ears rang when he heard what the 2 race winners said.

Lando didn’t care if he was rude, as he barged into their conversation with a huff.

“Who is it? It’s Oscar right?” Lando pressingly asked as his jaw clenched, teeth gritting with force a glare piercing the Australian.

Both drivers were surprised by Lando’s suddenly intense intrusion. They were even more perplexed at his sudden interest in you. When did Lando start caring about you?

“Uh, no? I asked Alexandra if it was Oscar since they have been close these days… but she said it was another driver” Charles answered

It was then that Lando admitted fully that he was a jealous man, seeing or even just thinking of you interacting with another man that held an interest in you made his blood curdle.

Lando needed to do something and fast. Even If you weren’t talking to him now, he needed others to know that you were off limits. Lando knew just how to do that.

He took his phone and dialed

“John set me an appointment with Hermes. I need an order for a customized Birkin”

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with-my-calamitous-love · 4 months ago

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HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP

katsuki bakugou x reader

the times bakugou broke your heart

heavily inspired by mbobhft

1) the denial

“are we breaking up?”

“…yeah.”

“oh.”

his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.

it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.

it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.

he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.

but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.

at first, it didn’t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.

at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.

you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.

right?

2) the anger

if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?

your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.

you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.

you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.

and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.

he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.

but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.

he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.

3) the bargaining

please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?

you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.

suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.

4) the depression

everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.

you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.

it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.

5) the acceptance

acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.

part 2 soon!

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misspygmypie · 3 months ago

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Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 2

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2492 Click here for Part 1

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

It was a quiet evening at Lando’s apartment. The driver sat hunched over his laptop, his focus fixed on race strategies and upcoming circuits. His thoughts, though, were miles away from racing. They lingered on the Meet & Greet event from a few days ago, the moment he had met Y/N and her adorable 4-year-old son, Noah.

Lando had been smitten from the first minute he saw Y/N. Her genuine smile and the way she looked at Noah with such love had tugged at something deep inside him. He had given her his number with the hope that it would lead to something more, but as the days passed with no text or call, his hopes began to fade away.

Oscar had noticed the cloud hanging over Lando. During a break at the team headquarters he approached his team mate. “So, have you heard from Y/N yet?”

Lando’s eyes had lost their usual sparkle as he shook his head. “No, nothing. I’m starting to lose hope, to be honest. Maybe she just wasn’t interested.”

“You never know, mate,” Oscar had replied, “she might just be a bit shy or overwhelmed. Give it time.”

And so Lando had continued with his daily routine, a part of him still hoping, even if it was only a flicker. Then, on this particular evening, his phone buzzed, jolting him from his thoughts. It was a message from an unknown number and he frowned, unlocking the device and opening the text.

He glanced down, and his heart skipped a beat.

Y/N: Hi Lando, it’s Y/N from the Meet & Greet last week. I just wanted to say thank you again for the great time and the bear. Noah loves it and is always hugging it when he sleeps. Here’s a photo of him with his new best friend 😊

He looked at the photo and felt a huge smile instantly creeping on his face. Noah was nestled comfortably in his bed, the bear clutched tightly in his tiny arms. The sight of the peaceful sleeping child with the bear’s head peeking out from the covers made Lando’s heart melt.

He quickly started typing a response but paused, his fingers hovering over the screen. He wanted to convey how much it meant to him that Noah loved the gift but he also wanted to make sure his message came across just right. He was a professional at handling high-speed racing strategies, but this - this was a whole different kind of nerve-wracking.

Finally, he took a deep breath and typed:

Lando: Hey Y/N! Thank you for sending this, it’s absolutely adorable! I’m so happy Noah loves the bear and it was really great meeting you both. Is Noah usually this sweet when he’s sleeping or is he just showing off to his new bear? 😄 Hope you’re doing well!

He hit send and immediately felt a wave of nervous excitement. He glanced at the screen, replaying his message in his mind, hoping it didn’t sound too over the top or awkward. A few seconds later, he received a reply.

Y/N: Thanks, Lando! He’s usually a bit of a tornado during the day, so it’s nice to see him so peaceful at night 😄 We’re doing well and he keeps talking about meeting you. How about you? How’s everything going?

Lando’s smile widened and he felt a renewed sense of hope. They were actually starting a conversation and eagerly he tapped out a response with new found confidence:

Lando: Things are going great, thanks for asking! The racing is keeping me busy, but it’s always exciting. I’d love to hear more about what you and Noah have been up to?

As he hit send Lando leaned back in his chair, still smiling happily for the first time in days. The city lights outside seemed a little brighter and the race strategies on his laptop took a back seat for the rest of the night.

From that day on, each morning Lando would wake up and check his phone, eagerly scrolling through the messages from Y/N. Her texts were often filled with snippets of her and Noah’s daily life.

One morning, Y/N sent him a snapshot of herself and Noah at a local park. Y/N was smiling brightly, looking effortlessly beautiful in a casual, sunlit setting.

Y/N: Just a day out at the park with Noah. He’s been running around non-stop!

Lando stared at the photo, struck by how stunning Y/N looked. Her natural beauty and radiant smile had him feeling a bit flustered. How does she manage to look this beautiful all the time? he wondered. And how is someone like her still single?

As their conversations continued, Lando found himself constantly impressed by Y/N. Whether it was a candid shot of her cooking dinner, playing with Noah, or simply relaxing at home she always appeared effortlessly beautiful. Another day, Y/N sent him a photo of Noah proudly showing off his latest artwork: a crayon drawing of a race car.

Y/N: Noah wanted to send you a picture of his latest masterpiece. He says it’s a McLaren, but I think he might be a bit optimistic! 😄

Lando chuckled at the message and immediately typed back.

Lando: That’s fantastic! I love it. Noah’s got quite the artistic talent. I’ll have to show this to my team, they might want to hire him for some design work!

In return, Lando shared stories from his life at McLaren, often with a humorous twist.

Lando: So, yesterday I was running late for a meeting and accidentally wore mismatched socks. Of course, I didn’t realize until halfway through the day when one of the engineers pointed it out. They’ve been teasing me about it ever since!

She replied with a laughing emoji and a playful message:

Y/N: Sounds like you’re fitting right in with the team! At least it’s not as bad as the time I tried to make dinner and ended up with something that looked like a science experiment gone wrong. Noah still teases me about it!

Their exchange of stories and photos continued and Lando loved hearing about their adventures and looked forward to the new stories they’d share. Then, one afternoon, he decided it was time to suggest an in-person meeting. He drafted a message and it took him nearly two hours to actually send it off.

Lando: Hey Y/N! I’ve been thinking about how much I’ve enjoyed our conversations these past few weeks. It’s been great getting to know you and Noah better. I’ve got a weekend off coming up in three weeks and I was wondering if you’d be up for meeting in person. I could fly out and we could grab coffee or something. Let me know what you think!

When he got Y/N’s reply it made Lando’s day.

Y/N: Hi Lando! That sounds amazing. I’ve really enjoyed our chats too. Noah would be thrilled to meet you again and it would be great to catch up in person. Let’s definitely plan for that weekend. I’ll look forward to it!

Lando: Awesome! I’m really looking forward to it. I’ll keep you updated with my flight details as we get closer to the date. Can’t wait to see you both!

________

As he settled into his apartment after a long day of working out and preparations for the next race he couldn’t wait any longer to share his next idea with Y/N. Over the past few days he had been thinking about how much he wanted to see them much earlier and he was nervous to find out what Y/N would say.

Lando: Hey Y/N! I was thinking... instead of our planned coffee date, how about joining me at the next race? I’d love for you and Noah to come. What do you think?

He hesitated for a moment before hitting send, his heart racing. A few hours later, Y/N’s response appeared on his phone.

Y/N: Wow, Lando, that’s an incredible offer! I’m sure Noah would be thrilled to see the race but honestly, I’m not sure if we can afford the travel expenses right now. It’s a bit beyond our budget.

Lando’s heart sank a little but he was determined to make this work. He quickly typed back:

Lando: Please don’t worry about the cost, I’d really like to cover everything for you and Noah. It would mean a lot to me to have you both there. Just let me know if that works for you!

He felt hopeful. He wanted to ensure that money wasn’t an issue and that they could enjoy this experience without any worries. Minutes felt like hours as he waited for her response. Finally, Y/N’s reply came through:

Y/N: Lando, that’s so incredibly kind of you. I’m sure Noah will be ecstatic about this! I really appreciate your generosity and can’t believe how thoughtful you are. I’ll talk to him and start making arrangements. Thank you so much!

Lando’s smile grew wider as he read her message. He quickly responded:

Lando: I’m thrilled you’re excited! I’ll handle all the details, flights, hotel and race passes. I want to make sure everything is perfect for you both. I’ll send you all the information shortly. Can’t wait to see you again soon!

The next day he coordinated every detail meticulously, ensuring that everything was taken care of for their visit. He could hardly keep his excitement to himself and it didn’t take long for Oscar to notice the change in Lando’s mood.

The two drivers sat together in the lounge area, enjoying a rare moment of downtime between team talks. While Oscar sipped his coffee and flipped through a magazine Lando practically radiated with joy.

“Alright, spill it,” Oscar demanded, setting the magazine aside. “You’re practically glowing. What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Lando’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Oscar, clearly unable to keep his emotions contained. “So, Y/N and Noah, right?”

“What about them?”

“Well,” Lando said, practically bouncing in his seat, “I Invited them to the race next week.”

Oscar’s curiosity piqued. “And?”

“And,” Lando continued, “they are able to make it!”

Oscar’s smile widened. “That’s fantastic news,” he beamed at his friend and meant every word. Lando had been talking about them nonstop since the Meet & Greet and especially after Y/N had finally texted him back. Lando would update him on their texts and show him the pictures he would get.

Lando’s grin widened even further. “It means a lot to me that they’re coming out. I’m really looking forward to seeing them again and showing them around the paddock properly this time.”

“I’m really happy for you, mate, it sounds like it’s going to be a great weekend.”

“Thanks! I can’t wait to see them!”

________

Y/N looked out the kitchen window, a soft smile playing on her lips as she imagined Noah’s reaction. Noah was sprawled on the floor, concentrated on arranging his small collection of toy cars.

“Hey, Noah,” Y/N called out, trying to keep her voice casual while she bubbled with excitement. “Can you come over here for a minute?”

Noah set aside his cars and trotted over to his mom, his tiny sneakers scuffing against the kitchen tiles. “What is it, Mommy?”

Y/N knelt down so she was eye-to-eye with him. “Guess what? Lando invited us to the next race!”

“Really? We’re going to see Lando again?” Noah’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Yes” Y/N confirmed, her excitement barely contained. “We’re going to fly out to watch the race and spend some more time with Lando!”

Noah jumped up and down, his little fists pumping in the air. “This is the best day ever! Can I bring my toy cars to show Lando? And my Lando hat?”

“Of course you can bring your toy cars and I’m sure Lando will be thrilled to see your hat.”

Noah’s excitement was contagious. “Can we start packing now? I want to make sure we don’t forget anything!”

“Not just yet,” Y/N said, chuckling. “We still have a little bit of time before we leave. But we can start picking out your favorite race car pajamas and making a list of what to bring.”

Noah nodded vigorously. “I’m going to wear my pajamas every day until we go! And I’ll make a special drawing for Lando too. Can I put it in his car?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’m sure Lando will love it.”

As traveling day approached, excitement filled the air at Y/N’s home. Noah could hardly contain himself, racing around the house with his favorite race car pajamas and a carefully packed backpack full of toy cars and race-themed items. Y/N, on the other hand, was busy with last-minute preparations, ensuring everything was ready for their trip.

Finally Y/N stood in the hallway, surveying the scene: a large suitcase packed with essentials, Noah’s backpack and a neatly organized tote bag filled with snacks and travel necessities. The sight of it all made her smile, but she had one more thing to do before they left.

With a grin, Y/N picked up her phone and snapped a quick picture. In the photo, a Lando cap poked out of Noah’s backpack and next to it was a little sign that read “Ready for the race!” She made sure to include a glimpse of Noah’s favorite race car pajamas draped over one of the bags.

She typed out a quick message to Lando, her excitement evident in every word:

Y/N: We’re all packed and ready for the big race! 🏁 Noah is beyond excited and insisted on showing off his race car pajamas and Lando hat. We thought you might like to see how ready we are for the adventure. Y/N & Noah

With a satisfied smile Y/N hit send. She knew Lando was busy, but she hoped the photo would bring a smile to his face.

A few hours later, as Y/N and Noah were finishing their final preparations, Y/N’s phone buzzed with a new message. She picked it up and saw a reply from Lando, accompanied by a photo of his own.

Lando: Hey Y/N! Wow, you guys are definitely race-day ready! 😎 I love Noah’s hat and pajamas. Can’t wait to see you both. I’ve got a little surprise planned for Noah! See you soon!

Y/N showed the message to Noah, who was practically bouncing with excitement. “Look, Noah! Lando says he has a surprise for you!”

“A surprise?” the boy’s eyes widened. “What do you think it is, Mommy?”

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “I’m not sure, but I’m sure it will be something amazing!”

_________

Click here for Part 3

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings

#ln4 x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando fluff #lando fic #lando x y/n #lando norris x y/n #landonorris #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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peachesofteal · 8 months ago

Text

Simple Math / Part Ten

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 5.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Masturbation, dirty (self) talk, brief daddy kink. This fic contains mature themes. Domestic violence. Grooming. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Nurse!reader. Kissing. Lots of dialogue. Bun considers making a friend. Penny is cute. Flirting. Touching. Comfort. Bun refers to herself as "heavy". Simon is Simon. POV switch. Dinner date.

“I’m Philip.”

The handsome brunette smiles, grabbing onto your hand. You blink, trying to understand, trying to make it make sense, when he prompts you with a teasing grin. “This is the part where you tell me your name, sweet thing.”

Oh. You stumble over it, tongue tied into a million knots, sweat from the Texas sun beating down your back, sweat slicking your shirt to your skin.

He’s still holding your hand, and you’re standing there with wide, doe eyes, shell shocked.

He’s… so handsome. And older. Older, and handsome. Polished type, with good teeth and good hair. He looks like he just stepped off the golf course.

Why is he talking to you?

He glances down at your drink.

“You even old enough to be drinkin’ that?”

“I-“ You’re terrible at lying, and like he can read it on your face, he chuckles.

“You live around here?”

“I go to Rice.”

“A bit young for college, aren’t you?”

“I just turned eighteen!” You’ve heard it a million times. You’re too young to understand something, or know something, or do something. You don’t get the way the world works yet. You’re not an adult.

He holds his hands up. “I’m sorry. I bet you’re one of the really smart girls that make all us men look like Neanderthals.” Your face heats.

“N-no. I just… I graduated early. I’m not a know it all.” You defend yourself, desperate to create distance from the usual stereotype, the way most people see you. The way boys see you.

Too smart. Face buried in a book. Awkward and stiff. Uncool.

He traces you from head to toe, appreciative gaze grazing over the swell of your hips, the generous curve of your ass. “I didn’t think you were. Too mature for that, I bet.” He croons, and your knees go weak.

“Y-yeah. A lot of people say I’m really mature.”

Two things compete for your attention when you open your eyes.

One: there is a soft, lovely song playing downstairs, something spring-like and sweet, vibrant without being too loud.

Two: the house smells like pancakes.

You check your phone, shocked to see you’ve slept for yet another 12 hours. There’s a text from Nia, and a text from your boss.

>You have a lot of time accrued. Take as much as you need.

That settles that, you guess.

There are also text messages in the group chat, one from Simon, and one from Johnny, coming in only a few minutes ago.

Simon: >Penny gets pancakes on Saturday mornings. They’ll be plenty, come down and eat when you’re ready.

Johnny: >I’m missing all the good stuff.

You stretch, cautiously, wiggling fingers and toes, spreading your limbs as far as you can without pushing it too much. You’re sore, uncomfortably so, and still exhausted, but if you stay in bed any longer, you’ll rot.

In the kitchen, Simon holds Penny and a mixing bowl, alternating hands to get a whisk through the batter while humming to his daughter on her hip.

You stop dead in your tracks.

He’s… he’s not wearing the mask.

You stare at his face, his whole, naked face for the first time, taking in the broad jaw, every shiny white scar, and his (twice, if you had to guess) healed broken nose. He’s handsome, differently from Johnny but no less striking, and you can’t look away, stunned by his raw, depthless and rugged beauty. Penny’s leg has kicked up the hem of his shirt, exposing his midsection, and the flash of skin there feels like a scandal, something you shouldn’t be seeing but cannot get enough of. He looks nothing like you expected and yet… everything you hoped for.

“Morning.” Pen tucks her face into his chest shyly, peeking out from the corner of her eye, curious and cute. “Can you say good morning to bunny?” He bounces her a little, and she giggles.

"Bunny." She says quietly, and Simon laughs.

“That’s right. Good job.” After a second of silence, you try to ask him about the missing mask, but the question gets confused on your tongue, and what comes out instead is clumsy and stunted.

“Your mask.” You cringe, immediately. It’s the first thing that slips loose, insensitive, and uncouth. “I uh, I’m sorry, I’m just… surprised?” you falter, and makes it worse. You think about trying to run back upstairs, hightailing it for the hills when he smiles, and points to the empty stool at the kitchen counter with a batter covered whisk.

“Sit.” There’s already a stack piled high, plain, and ones with big, juicy blueberries. Your favorite.

“So, pancakes every Saturday?”

“Mhmm.” He settles Penny in her highchair to your left, and pulls an already cooled pancake from the stack, cutting it up into little, tiny pieces with a child’s knife and fork. “Pen and her Da,” he pads some butter across the top of his handiwork, grabbing her sippy cup and filling it with milk. “Have pancakes every Saturday when he’s home. It’s their favorite. Right?” He points at her, “your favorite?” and taps his middle finger to his chin, others outward, straight up. “Your favorite?” Signing?

“Are you teaching her sign?”

“Trying to. Pen’s birth mum is deaf. It’s important to us, that she’s able to connect with her when the time comes. Plus, my hearing is shot. So is Johnny’s. It’s a great way for her to communicate with us.” He strokes some fingers through her curls, and she doesn’t even look up, too busy shoveling as much pancake into her mouth as she can. You have a million questions now, curiosities bubbling to the surface, about Pen’s mum, about her life, about how she came to be their child. All too rude, and too invasive to ask. “Or, to use when she’s feeling sassy and can’t find the words. That happens, too.”

“She’s what…sixteen months?” You watch her intently, unable to not smile when she cheeses at her dad with a mouthful of food, even though your tender skin stings with the movement.

“Yeah. Top percentiles in a lot of things for her age. Said her first word before she was one.” He’s rich with pride, a deep well of love shining in his eyes, and you force your own down to the plate, stifling the ache bleeding from your heart.

“Of course she is.” Penny holds pieces of sticky, syrupy pancake with both hands, attacking them with vigor, smearing her cheeks purple with the squished blueberries.

You need to eat something, but your brain is buzzing, unnatural discomfort stretching long in the back of your mind.

What’re you doing? Sitting here eating pancakes like everything is normal? Like everything’s okay?

Everything is not okay.

You drift, back to your apartment, back the venom of Phillip, the hands around your neck, the twist of your shoulder, back slamming into the wall. You can still feel him, still hear him, these memories like all the others, your body beaten on the floor, mind nearly broken. Trying to shift away from the hot end of a cigarette, screaming for help, running through a-

A hand covers yours.

He coaxes the fork from your fingers, metal vibrating within flesh.

“I think… I think I should go back to bed.” You whisper.

“Are you tired?”

“No… yeah. I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to run away, you know.” He flips a pancake onto your plate from the stack. “Just because you were somewhere else for a little bit.” Your cheeks burn. “We’ve got a pretty nice couch in the living room though, if you want some time alone and don’t feel too keen on the stairs.” Saturday morning pancakes and curling up on the couch? It sounds so nice, so normal, and must show on your face, because he chuckles. “Help yourself. You might have to share the TV though, in a bit. We watch baby Einstein on Saturdays, and she’ll need some entertaining for a minute while I get ready.” Your lips twist, an entire hearth lighting up in the bottom of your heart.

“Alright.”

Baby Einstein is as enthralling as you thought it would be, though Penny disagrees. She stares at the screen, wide eyed, open mouthed, sippy cup long forgotten, and even Simon struggles to get her attention after returning from getting dressed.

You force your eyes away from the strain of his thighs in blue jeans.

“We’re goin’ down to the hospital.” He tells you, pulling her upward over the back of the couch and rubbing his nose through her curls. It’s still… weird, to see his whole face. To clearly watch his expressions, sublime bliss pushing his mouth upward whenever he looks at his daughter. “Want to come?”

“I can’t, not if I’m taking time off. It… looks bad to admin. I can probably go in at night but, during the day is just a recipe for disaster.”

“Of course.” He looks around, for what you don’t know, shoulders tensing, then relaxing. “Well, you’ve got the remote. And my number. Are you… going to be, okay? Alone?”

Say yes.

You can’t. All you can do… is nod.

“Okay well if you’re not. Just call.” You nod again, getting to your feet. Once you’re standing, you’re out of place, flailing in their living room, about to be here alone, with your memories, your poisoned mind.

What’re you doing? You’ve ruined everything. Broken all your rules.

“We can stay.” Simon steps close, hand grazing the middle of your back, and you shake your head.

“No, no- I… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t-“

“Yes, I do.” Your voice shakes, and you slam your eyes shut. You can’t do this. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m putting you in danger, and I… I’m putting myself in danger and I’m being so- so stupid, Simon.” His gaze is heavy, serious, and he steps around you, sliding Penny into her bounce seat, turning it to face baby Einstein.

“Listen to me.” As he returns, he reaches, carefully pulling you close, close enough you’re nearly in his chest, timing the rise and fall of his diaphragm. “We are safe, you are safe, sweetheart. ‘m not going to let anything happen to you, or Penny, or any of us. Alright?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Tell me.” You almost laugh, but something comes over you instead, something delirious and desperate. You lean into him, letting him hold you, hand smoothing over the back of your head. “You can tell me. You can trust us. We’ll take care of you.”

God, you want to. You want to so bad it aches, burns a ravenous fire in your heart. You want tell him, let them in. Tell them everything.

“Bun.” He murmurs, bringing you back, a finger under your chin.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s… it’s too much.”

“It’s alright.” He soothes, but doesn’t pull away, and you’re drawn in like a magnet, rising to the balls of your feet, stuck in a trance, luring you closer.

He meets your halfway.

And then-

He’s kissing you, plush lips on yours, pancakes and fresh laundry and stained-glass windows of sanctuary on his tongue.

You’re standing in the sun, in the trance of another spell.

It’s a mouthful of butterscotch and maple. Sweet, delicious breakfast in bed, lazy Saturday mornings and whispered, tender words. It’s life unlike your own, a home, the promise of a love not fractioned, chipped away, or strangled… but multiplied, magnified. His touch is painfully gentle, slow and easy, encouraging you to follow his lead, carefully constructing a tiny universe to disappear to, where shadow cannot touch. A fantasy, cocoon of stars, ambrosial and sacrosanct, an escape from the hell nipping at your heels, the hell chasing you through your dreaming and waking hours.

The anxious hum radiating through every cell in your body flatlines.

The girl in the mirror weeps.

Everything goes silent. Your breathing slows. Your hands fall to the side, listless and stunned.

Penny grunts. The moment shatters.

You can only stare with wide, terrified eyes.

“Johnny.” It’s the first word out of your mouth, the only thing you can conjure. “I’m sorry, I don’t know… I’m sorry.” Johnny. Johnny’s not here. How can he kiss you when his partner isn’t here? His heart will be broken, you’re destroying their family, you’re-

“I kissed you, bunny. Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Simon hums, still holding your face. “Johnny’s okay. He’ll be a bit jealous he didn’t get one too, but he won’t be upset.”

“How?” the question squeaks, and he takes your hand, tugging you towards the couch, settling you back into the cushions, easily guiding you with deft hands. He's so careful, so gentle, the touch of a man who raises a daughter, who loves his partner, adroit and nimble, anticipating movement before it happens.

“After Penny goes down tonight, let’s have a drink. Or some late dinner. We can talk, and I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can. How’s that sound?” He strokes a thumb across the apple of your cheek. Talking can’t hurt, can it?

“O-okay. Yeah.” You try to shrug, pain lancing through your shoulder, and you try to smother your wince. He frowns.

“I want you to get some rest today.” A small grin creeps across your face.

“You always tell people what to do?” He nods, solemn.

“It’s my job. Takin’ care of you lot is an added bonus.” He breezes by the grouping of you with his family, like it’s a normal thing, rubbing circles in your palm. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

“I can-“

“I’m here. Let me help.” You don’t say anything at first. Can’t say anything, can’t formulate a response that encompasses everything you’re thinking and feeling, stuck on the mile high wall that is your fear and denial, afraid to jump. Afraid to fall.

He doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask you to respond, He just… settles you, cautiously arranging the pillows to support your injuries, lets you sit there atop the wall, staring down at the ground where they wait. Patiently. He rubs your back and your good shoulder until you’re drifting away in heady, hazy dream world, unable to stir when he slips free, tucking the blankets in around you, and pressing another long, lingering kiss to your brow.

You wake in a panic to the doorbell ringing. Your heart races, and you’re up off the couch, tucked around a corner of the hall, hiding, in a blink, even though your shoulder and neck scream at the sudden change of position.

Breathe. You’re losing it. Philip wouldn’t ring a doorbell.

The door clicks open.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice echoes to where you’re still curled around the hallway, back pressed flat, eyes closed. “Hello? Anyone home?” Who is that?

You peek, like a child. Peering around to see a familiar woman with grocery bags in her hands, depositing them on the kitchen counter.

She spots you immediately.

“Hi!” She’s grinning, pretty and bright, pulling a carton of milk from a brown paper bag and putting it in the fridge. “I’m Lou. Sorry, did I scare you? I tried to ‘announce’ myself.” She makes bunny ears with her fingers before and after the word announce, with half of an eye roll. “John’s always telling me I have to when I come over. Can’t be giving anyone surprises, and I knew you were here. Just wasn’t sure if you’d be up for visitors. Sorry if I gave you a fright.”

“No, I…” you trail off, readjusting, giving her your name. She nods and smiles again. “I remember you. In front of the elevator that day.”

“Yeah, that was me.” She’s earnest in her focus, beaming at you, almost like she’s excited.

“You look a little different out of your cute scrubs.” That gives you a small laugh, and you smile honestly at her, flattered.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Oh no, you’re not. I was just… I’m fine.” She pulls a flat of eggs free and stacks them next to a colorful pile of produce.

“I do the store runs for Simon right now. It’s too much, with Johnny in hospital and taking care of Pen. We’ve been trying to lighten his load.” Guilt twists. And here you are, adding onto it.

“That’s very nice of you.” She waves it off.

“They’ve kept my husband alive a million times over. It’s the least I can do.”

“Right… they… work together?”

“Simon is semi-retired but yeah. They’re in a global task force. It’s the four of them. Have you met Kyle yet?”

“Oh, yeah. At the hospital one day.”

“Best guy, really.” Her clothes swish, warm and sweet aura practically glowing.

“Yeah, he was really nice.” She rests her hands on her hips and looks you over.

“You okay?” This woman is direct. She's got a no nonsense approach, and through intense, there's true ardor in her, passion and care.

“Yeah, I’m just… still recovering.” You don’t know what she knows, not sure what they’ve told her or John, so you’re not sure how much, or what even, to say.

“Simon told us, about you being mugged. I’m so sorry, it’s just awful.” She’s sincere in her sympathy, big brown eyes sad and considerate.

“It’s okay, thank you. I’m okay.”

“If you need anything, I’m always around. Or if you want to talk to another girl that isn’t a toddler.” It’s an olive branch of friendship, you realize, or the beginnings of, and you’re startled, considering it, wondering if it would be so bad… to have a friend.

“Thank you.” She gives you her number, and you tap it in, shooting her a text with your name.

“You should sit.”

“I can help with these.”

“No, no. No offense, but you look half asleep. I’ve got it.” You laugh even though it hurts, awkward half shrug with good shoulder, and agree.

“Yeah, I’m still recovering. It’s been slow.”

“I’m sure.” You sit at the counter, watching her organize the fridge with scary efficiency. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. Just had to drop these off.”

“Oh, you’re fine.” It’s nice. You’re nice. She feels safe, the proximity to Simon and Johnny naturally leading you to feel comfortable, knowing she’s welcomed by them, she’s a part of their life. It makes you feel more at ease, and you try to convey it without getting tangled up in awkward words.

You don’t know how. Not really sure how to make genuine friends anymore, so you just sit there and watch, listening to her talk, enjoying how she rambles a little bit, laughing at herself.

When she says goodbye at the door, she promises to text you the next time she’s coming by, so you’re not surprised, and you linger there, watching her go, wondering if it’s real, surprisingly mourning the loss of companionship already.

“Johnny misses you.” The ice in Simon’s rocks glass clinks together as he sips his bourbon, corner of his mouth lifting in a partial smirk. “Not too fond of his new nurse, I’m afraid. Think he’s spoiled now.”

“How is he?” You’re on the edge of your seat for an update, but not wanting to pry too much. It’s a delicate line, one where you don’t know on which side to stand.

“Good. Wrist fracture is nearly healed, so he’ll be able to start on crutches soon. Once he does, he’ll be doing physical therapy for most of his day, and ready to come home. Should be soon.” He really smiles now, and you mirror it, unable to deny the infectious bloom of happiness spreading from him to you.

“And his liver?”

“No complications. Grafts for his burn are in great shape. Hip is the trickiest part.”

“Yeah, they take a lot longer to heal, but I’m sure he’ll do a great job of it, just like everything else.”

“Thanks to you.” You sip your wine, citrusy peach and passionfruit coating your tongue. It’s a nice bottle, and you were surprised when Simon brought it home, bag of takeaway in one arm, Penny in the other.

“No.” Your cheeks heat. “I was just there. You guys did the hard work.”

“Wouldn’t have made it without you though. Think I would’ve lost it. Him too.”

“You would’ve been fine.” You brush it off, and he shakes his head.

“You’re too modest.” He drains his pour, uncapping the bottle on the coffee table between you and refilling it halfway. Glass on glass chimes, and you sink deeper into the couch, relaxing, tucking your knees up until you’re half curled into a ball, wine glass cradled between your palms.

“So…”

“I told you; you can ask me whatever you like.” You knew this was the case, but hesitance is still brimming in your heart, uneasy feelings festering beneath your skin, burning question shoving to the surface.

“Did you tell Johnny we kissed?”

“I did.”

“Was he upset?”

“Only because he feels like he’s missing out. I told him we’d make it up to him.” Fire enflames your skin. We?

“And by we you mean… us. Together. Like… the three of us.”

“I do.” The girl in the mirror screams. She doesn’t understand, why you continue to act against her better judgement. Why you’re entertaining something so, so dangerous, something so stupid.

“Simon, I… I can’t.”

“You keep saying that but look where you are, bun.” He motions to the table, takeaway cartons scattered across the top, half empty bottle of wine, his bourbon, and a baby monitor. It looks like a nice night in, a simple, sweet life, not even close to being your own.

Still, the girl in mirror combats. Still.

“This isn’t… this isn’t a thing it’s just… we’re hanging out. I’m not going to be here forever, I’m looking for a place and I-“ His face changes, flicker of shadow fading across his brow before being chased away by the sunlight in his eyes. You thought he'd be easier to read, without the mask, imagined you'd be able to place his expressions but you're just as confused and lost as ever.

“Slow down. There’s no need to look for a place to live.”

“W-what?” The wine has made you a little slow, a little sleepy, and you blink through the stupor.

“You’re still healing, sweetheart, and I know you're scared. I’ve known since the first day you stepped into Johnny’s room.”

“No.” You shake your head. Pain fizzles, numbed by alcohol, and your head swims.

“I know you weren’t mugged.” How? “I know you’re running from someone.” Oh god. The urge to get to your feet and bolt washes over you like a wave.

“I- I’m not.” The lie is bare-boned, pathetically unconvincing, and you know it. He knows it too; you can tell by the look on his face.

“You’re not ready to tell me, that’s fine. I’m patient. But you won’t be going anywhere if I don’t know you’re safe. And right now, to me, it doesn’t seem like you’re safe.” The pale yellow of your wine shines in the low lights of the living room, and you get lost in it, swirling around in his words, trying to put them together and pick them apart, desperate to understand what he means.

“Are you… are you saying you won’t let me leave?” You gulp. It’s a ridiculous conclusion, but the first one you jump to.

And in that, you know you’re giving too much away.

His face softens, and he reaches, pulling your free hand into his own, petting some sort of sequence into your skin.

“Of course not, sweetheart. I’d never, ever force you to do something you didn’t want to do. But I do want you to stay, here with us. Where we can keep you safe, take care of you.”

“I don’t need-“

“I know you don’t. I know you take care of yourself just fine.” The indignant roar in the back of your mind settles. “But I’d love an opportunity to do it instead.”

“Simon…”

“Did you know the cells in our body hold onto trauma? They carry imprints of traumatic events. It can change your biology, the way you function.” He squeezes your hand. “It’s hard to realize… that it’s not normal, the way you might be, the way you think, or do things, when you’re carrying the physical memory of terrible things.” He’s not talking about you. There’s a fleeting flash of sadness in his eyes, ghosts circling the drain around his irises, and your heart aches. “We can help you. I don’t know who you’re hiding from, but I can guess what they’ve done- look at me.” You force your eyes back to him, and he cups your cheek. “You do not have to be afraid here. You are safe with me, with us. I know you don’t believe it, and I’ll tell you as many times you need, but it will never not be true. We can help you.”

“You don’t know… you don’t know what you’re saying.” Your denial is steadfast. They cannot possibly understand.

A small seed of light blooms under darkness. It’s the sun, struggling to break free, trying to drag you into its warm, golden rays. It tugs and tugs, clawing towards you, illuminating the path forward.

The words come out before the girl in the mirror can stop them.

“You don’t know him. He’s sick and… powerful. He’s a monster but he’s smart, has connections, has ways of doing things that… I don’t even know. He’d kill you.” You clap your hand over your mouth in shock, surprised at yourself. It’s the most you’ve said about Philip in years.

You expect pushback. Expect Simon to flinch, or cower, or have good sense… a rational reaction to being told someone might try to hurt him.

He smiles instead, settling back on his side of the couch.

“I’d just have to get to him first, then.” Is he… is he? Simon watches you, reaches into your brains to peer inside, rooting around in your head. The way he looks at you, like he knows everything you’re feeling, can see what you're thinking, makes you shiver, makes you feel like you’re a tiny mouse in the shadow of a mountain. He sighs. “Give us a chance.”

“A chance?”

“A chance, to know you. Let us in, let us try. Stay here, with us, spend time with me and Johnny and Pen. No strings attached. If you decide it’s not for you… we’ll understand.”

No strings attached.

You could pick up and leave if you wanted. If you had to.

What’re you doing?

“How does it work? Would we all…” you trail off, confused.

“Date?” Simon finishes gently. “Yes.”

“So, you guys are… bi?” He chuckles.

“Yes, sweetheart. We’re bi.”

“Is this… a thing? Something you guys do?”

“We’ve never taken another partner before, no.” Your eyes widen. “You’re our first.” You don’t know why, but knowing is exhilarating and terrifying, all at the same time. You’re their first.

He’s talking about it like it’s already happened.

Fatigue settles in around you, thick fog of it draping over your shoulders and clouding your head.

“I… I don’t know.” You stifle a yawn. “I need to think.” He abandons his perch for one next to you, pulling your wine glass free and setting it on the table.

“Tired?” His fingers sweep over your cheek, skin warming under his touch.

“Mhmm.” You mumble, sleepily. Your head is very heavy, suddenly, hard to hold up.

“Alright.” He stands, bending to slide an arm under your knees, the other supporting your back in one fluid movement.

“What are you doing?” You squeak, grabbing onto him as he rises, lifting you into his chest at full height. Panic floods your nervous system, fevered tone pitching into a plea. “Put me down! I’m too heavy. Please, I’m too heavy, you can’t-“

“I’ve lifted a car off a teammate before.” He tells you, the thick of his body beneath your ear vibrating. “And I’ve dug Johnny out of a collapsed concrete wall. I’m made to pick things up, bunny. Heavy or not.” He holds you right there, all the way up the stairs, down the hall to the guest room, before settling you back on your feet, big hands around your waist for balance. Your back is to his chest now, and his nose drifts across the top of your head, slow path of his fingers stroking down your hip. “Alright?” He asks, and you nod, throat too dry to speak.

He squeezes. You stifle a gasp, resist the urge to press your thighs together.

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched, since anyone has handled you with reverence, with affection. You almost don’t recognize it.

His hand drifts, slipping between your thigh and cheek. “This okay?” He murmurs, and you manage a rough yes, word sticky and thick in your throat. Yes. Yes, don’t stop. A fingertip strokes along the crease there, back and forth, before trailing upward. He takes as much of your flesh in his palm as he can, squeezing again, caressing, mouth skimming along your neck.

“Oh.” you breathe. The room is warm, barely lit by the bedside lamp, and you burn in the dark, sensations sparking alive that have long laid dormant.

The girl in the mirror curses you.

“Need help getting to bed?”

“N-no.” Yes! “I’m… fine.” His lips touch your cheek, then your ear, breath blowing over you, firm, solid warm mass at your back exhaling shakily.

“Get some sleep.” He steps away, but not before he swings, slowly, softly, into the pillow plush of your ass. It’s a gentle tap, but the fire between your legs roars. “Goodnight, bun.”

“G-goodnight.”

Simon's got his sweatpants and boxers off before he's even fully in the bathroom, running right into the shower, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as the water flicks on. It's not hot enough, but he doesn't even notice, cock heavy in his grip, tip already smeared wet with pre-come.

"Fuck, bunny." He grits, trying to stay quiet but unable to hold his tongue.

He's awful, for this. Awful for doing this after you've had such an emotional night. Awful for touching you when you're still healing, awful for grabbing a handful of your ass and imagining sliding his dick through the space between those cheeks. He can't stop, strokes himself long, squeezing the base and pulling up and back as he imagines you on all fours, perfect globe perked up in the air for him, his cock sinking into your soaking wet pussy as you moan. He knows you would make the prettiest sounds for them, sweet gasps and cries, bouncing on Johnny's cock in his lap.

"Hop like a bunny." He'd coo, and you'd whine, riding Johnny as Simon coached you until you were so close, almost there on the edge. "Show daddy how bad you want to come, little bunny."

He jerks himself harder, eyes closed, imagining the ripple of your flesh, the way you'd bounce so perfectly, how Johnny would be gripping your hips with his head tipped back, throat exposed for Simon to nip and suck a mark into.

His bunny. His boy.

His toes curl. Water streams down his back, slicking his skin, forearm burning with each stroke, imagination running wild as he gets closer and closer, thinking about you and Johnny and him together, finally, your legs spread wide in front of their faces, perfect pussy on display. He can almost hear the way you'd whisper their names, and it blinds him, fills his head with white light. He knows you're beautiful when you come, as beautiful as you are when you let your guard down and give him a real smile, as beautiful as you are everyday, so pretty and perfect, kind, even as a ghost. He imagines it, pictures it, the sight of his and Johnny's come leaking out of your hole, fingers shoving it back inside, marking you as theirs.

He comes with your name on his lips, a strangled whisper, painting the tile with himself.

He falls asleep with a new addition in their bed, on top of Johny's t shirt and the baby monitor... there's now a long sleeved tee, plucked from your dirty laundry this morning as he was getting ready to leave. It smells like you, something he wishes he could bottle, and he holds it close, tied in tandem with Johnny's, curled in his arms on top of the pillow.

#simple math #peaches writes #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #john mactavish #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #ghost x soap #if you saw my technical difficulty earlier no you didn't!

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onmyyan · 2 months ago

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Ain't no sunshine

Chapter 4

A/n: love this series, fem reader, yandere themes, platonic yandere Batfamily

Taglist: @uniquecutie-puffs @starsdotalk @ghostdoodlen @nickey-diano @76lonelyspoons @m3vl0vesu @uknowimdumb

"What's this about Gordon?" Damian asks after arriving in the dining room, he was perplexed by her message, what on earth would they need to speak about you of all people?

"(Y/n) moved out." Barbara says biting the bullet.

There was a moment of silence as her words registered before chaos broke out.

"What do you mean moved out?" Dick asks putting down the bagel he was eating his eyes held disbelief, "I mean I just checked her room and she's gone." Barbara says making his stomach lurch.

"We missed her birthday." Tim speaks suddenly realizing, his mind working a mile a minute. Jason curses under his breath at the revelation, how could he be such an idiot?

"You're wrong she wouldn't leave like that." Dick shook his head, the thought of you simply disappearing sent a wave of deep-seated unease through the family, and something else, something much darker had been born in that moment within each of them.

"Alfred confirmed it." Barbara says softly trying not to upset Dick further than he was.

Cass stood still before signing, "How could we not have noticed?"

Damian having enough of the conversation pulled out his phone calling your number, only to be met with the same answer Barbara got when she tried, his brows furrowed as the automated voice told him the number was disconnected. "Her phone's off." He speaks a pit forming in his stomach,

The Manor was quieter than usual.

That's the first thing Bruce notices when he wakes up that morning, an almost empty quiet filled the halls as he went from his bedroom to the study, he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly and this bothered him to no end.

Alfred stood diligently by the marble counter top waiting for Bruce's instructions, "Good morning Alfred."

"Master Bruce." Alfred greeted him simply, rather curt for the old man, and Bruce notices this immediately, his mind racing on what he could have done to upset the man. "Is something wrong Alfred?"

"To be the world's greatest detective you can be incredibly dense." Alfred served him his coffee without another word and made Bruce feel like a child being scolded for something.

It wasn't until he walked by your room did his senses go off, it was much too quiet in there, knocking softly he found the door opening from the slightest touch. Alarm bells immediately start going off at just how empty it is, how void of life. He rushed downstairs, searching for Alfred to question him, when he saw his whole family gathered in the dining room.

They stare at him, all with that deer in a headlight look, "What?" He asks knowing something was up.

"(Y/n)'s gone." Dick speaks up, biting at his thumb, "And we missed her birthday." Jason adds on his guilt making his shoulders slump inward.

Bruce looks over to Alfred as if to confirm what he was told, the older man simply nods.

Meanwhile on the other side of Gotham, you're completely unaware of the chaos your absence is causing. Too busy enjoying your new life.

Bruce went to the cave immediately, checking the cameras for your form, he searched through a week of footage before he saw your graceful exit from the manor. A week. A fucking week you'd been gone and your own father hadn't noticed.

Bruce had felt like a true failure only a handful of times in his life, losing Jason, and now, you.

Only this time there was no Joker to blame, it was him. His fault his daughter felt the need to disappear without so much as a goodbye. The years of ignoring your presence simply because you were his 'easy child' the one he never had to worry about, the one who never made waves, come crashing down upon him, he rests his head on his hands, eyes never leaving the screen. "What have I done?" He speaks lowly, mind reeling from the shame of his inaction.

His blue eyes hardened at the sight of you on the screen, he could fix this, couldn't he? He just needed a second chance, he'd show you the love you deserved, the nurturing you needed, he didn't care that you were a legal adult now, (he winces at the thought of forgetting such an important birthday, he'd throw you the party of all parties once he got you home, he swore it.) you were his daughter, his youngest daughter, and you needed him no matter what you thought.

Dick Grayson prided himself on many things, one of which being his bond with his family, so to be faced with the reality that he wasn't the best big brother around, kind of shatters him. He refused to accept the fact that his, along with everyone else's actions, lead to your choice to abandon them, instead he reasoned, you were feeling rebellious, youthful energy and all that, he was sure once you got this out of your system you'd be right back where you belonged. Where he could keep an eye on you, a proper eye this time.

Jason fumes silent, pacing the kitchen, he feels like a cat is clawing at his skin from the inside, unable to do anything with his pent up frustration he grips the counter top hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. He hated himself right now, hated how garbage he felt, you were only eighteen, all on your lonesome in a city like Gotham? It was enough to set the hairs on his neck on edge.

Tim was busy on his tablet, he was already searching the city's CCTV cameras for any trace of you, his fingers working so fast they cramped, sweat drips down his brow as he searched, unable to tear himself away from his task. He felt maybe just maybe if he found you, he could begin to make up for how shitty he'd treated you, begin to open up to you in the way you'd always wanted. He needed to find you, and based on the usually composed family's obvious panic, it needed to be fast.

Barbara busied herself with rummaging through your empty room for anything she could use to find you, if she just had the chance to explain herself, she's sure you'd understand, sure you'd look at her with that expression you had when you were younger, like she was your personal hero.

Cassandra finds herself staring out at the distant view of Gotham, her hands twitching at her sides as she struggles not to take action, sure she didn't have a bond with you like she did with the others but she still cared for you, from a distance, she felt it was safer as you were the only civilian in the family. A choice she thinks now was a mistake. Maybe if she'd let her walls down a little more, you'd have confided in her instead of leaving.

Damian, in his rage, wasted no time heading to the cave to suit up, there he found his Father, still leaning over the computer table. "What are you doing?" Bruce asks barley looking away from the screen. "What do you think? Going to find that idiot before she gets herself killed." He seethes yanking on his tactical gloves.

"Damian -"

"How dare she leave us- we are a family." He spits the word out like it's a curse, "You don't leave your family." He reiterates slamming his hands into the table holding various gadgets. "I'm going to find that fool and drag her back here." He promised.

"Just hold on for a moment." Bruce stands walking over to his son to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "We have no idea where she is, let us do some recon. Tim will find her address in no time, if she's still in Gotham we'll find her within the week."

Damian hesitantly agreed to his father's reasoning.

It takes them a week to find you, you were very good at hiding your tracks, using only cash, staying in shady areas because they weren't monitored, it's only when you post a selfie with some new friends do they lock your location down.

Tim took five minutes to himself to stare at the photo before alerting the family, he found it after all, he felt entitled to it, to the joy on your face, the other people in the picture made it easier to find you, first he found their names, then their addresses and used that along with the small bits of background he could see to triangulate your new address.

He'd never seen that look on your face, it was a casual cocky sort of grin, one that said you were genuinely enjoying yourself. He couldn't fathom how you were so happy without them, it sort of hurt his feelings, but at the same time he needed to see more of that smile, see what other expressions you made, he'd only ever seen that sad dejected look on your face, he huffs to himself, saving the picture for himself before sending the info to the group chat.

Bruce decided to let one of his kids do the interacting with you, feeling too ashamed to face you yet, he sends Dick, knowing you once looked up to him.

You're three hours into a horror movie marathon, courtesy of the box TV you stole off the back of a moving truck, when someone knocks at your door.

You don't pause the movie, using it as cover to tip toe towards the door, sure it was still early in the night, but everything was dangerous in Gotham.

You don't say a word, sneakily looking through the grimey peephole all you can make out is a tall dark haired man.

He knocks again causing you to flinch. Swiping knife out the drawer, you hide it behind your back before swinging open the door expecting the people you'd stolen the TV from or maybe one of the thugs you'd beaten black and blue, not Dick Grayson.

"Hey little bird." He greets like an old time friend, not the man who'd ignored you your entire relationship.

"How the fuck- what are you doing here?" You sigh revealing the knife as you rest your hand on your hip, exasperated by his mere presence. He eyes the knife before laughing, "I like the energy, good call living in this neighborhood." He invites himself inside, scrutinizing your apartment, a deep sigh leaving his lips, "You shouldn't be living like this-"

"Hold the fuck on." You point the knife at him accusingly, "You didn't know I existed a week ago, now you barge into my home," you emphasize with another point, "shit all over it and start lecturing me about how I should live?" You stare at him like he's grown another head before laughing, he friend stepping closer, "I'm ...I'm sorry, I know I forgot your birthday - we forgot, but you didn't need to run away-"

"I didn't run from shit." Crossing your arms, "I'm an adult, I moved out." You say pointedly.

"Be that as it may- you should have said something, do you have any idea how worried we've been?" He pleads, brows furrowed, "I know you're mad, you've every right to be, but this isn't safe." He gestures to your apartment. "I walked past a drug deal on the way up here ya know." He chides like he's scolding s child.

"Come back to the manor." He says softly, stepping closer once more, until he could touch your shoulder, "no need to leave the nest so soon." You stare at his hand, then him, before pointing the knife at him, your hand steady,

"Get the fuck outta my house."

Dick leaves reluctantly, he was determined to bring you home, thought you'd jump in his arms for a hug once he showed up, but you didn't, you looked at him with disgust, anger, and a hint of fear, he hated it. He wanted you to look up at him like the big brother he was, not like your enemy.

You're panting after the encounter, knife clattering to the ground, you follow shortly after, collapsing as your mind tried to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

It was a storm, so you latched on to the one feeling that would anchor you, rage.

You don't sleep that night. And it's a good thing because Damian is breaking through your window lock like it was the easiest thing, he enters your home, face deadset in a glare. "You left the manor for this shit hole?" He almost laughs, his hand on his sword makes you incredibly nervous. "What's it matter to you? Thought you'd be thrilled." You roll your eyes, too exhausted to deal with another one of them in such a short time period.

"You've disrupted the natural flow in the manor with this little stunt." He seethes, "I'm going to restore it." He states as if speaking a fact. "How prey tell do you intend on doing that, you massive twat?" He simply smirks before looking behind you, you turn around and see Jason leaning against the wall, his red hood mask on, obstructing his facial expression, making him all the more unnerving.

"You're a long way from home." Jason says kicking off the wall, moving to hover behind you, "Why are you here?! Okay I'm officially over this reunion, out." You point to the window they entered from.

"Oh we're leaving, just not without you." Jason chimes up his hand hovering over his guns, fingers twitching.

To your defense, you did try and run, but it was no use, they were on you faster than you could process, a sweet smelling cloth is pressed to your mouth, and as much as you fight it, eventually you need to breathe, it takes one good inhale for the chloroform to kick in, you slump in someone's hold you're unsure of which one and your world fades to black.

#yandere dc imagine #yandere dc #yandere #various yandere x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #aint no sunshine

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dan-the-womans-blog · 2 months ago

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Hey! I’d love a one-shot where Hotch is really protective over the reader, who’s been getting some unwanted attention from someone at work. Maybe she’s a bit younger and new to the team, and she’s always been close with Hotch, but lately, he’s noticed that someone’s been making her uncomfortable. I’d love to see how Hotch handles it, especially since he’s been realizing he has feelings for her. Lots of protective Hotch vibes, maybe a little angst, but definitely some fluff and maybe a confession at the end. Thanks so much!

Of course lovely!!

Title: “Shield of Silence”

Pt2

You weren’t sure when it started, but the pit in your stomach had been growing for weeks now. At first, it had just been lingering looks—nothing overtly inappropriate but just enough to make your skin crawl. You’d brush it off, thinking you were imagining things, but the feeling only intensified as time passed. It was like being watched constantly, a gaze that clung to you when you least expected it.

It was your third month with the BAU, and although you were still adjusting, you felt like you’d finally found your place among the team. Spencer had been a wealth of knowledge, always eager to share some obscure fact or statistics. JJ had quickly become like an older sister, guiding you through the maze of FBI procedures and office politics. And then there was Aaron Hotchner—your unit chief, your mentor, and more recently, the person you found yourself gravitating towards the most.

Hotch had been nothing but professional with you, but there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. You admired his leadership, the way he commanded respect without demanding it, and his quiet but unwavering sense of justice. More than once, you’d caught yourself staring at him, wondering what it would be like to cross that line between professional and personal. But you always pushed those thoughts aside—he was your boss, after all.

Lately, however, you found yourself needing his presence more than usual. There was someone on the team who was making you uncomfortable, someone who lingered a little too close, who spoke a little too softly when he was near you. It was subtle—nothing you could report without feeling like you were making a mountain out of a molehill. But you knew it wasn’t just in your head.

The elevator ride that morning had been the final straw. You were alone, checking your phone, when you felt the presence beside you. Your stomach twisted as he moved closer, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. You stepped away, mumbling an excuse about needing to review a case file, and practically fled to your desk.

It wasn’t until you were safely seated that you noticed Hotch watching you, his brows furrowed with concern. He’d always been perceptive, but this time, his gaze felt like it was peeling back the layers you’d tried so hard to keep hidden.

“Y/N,” his voice was low as he approached you, leaning on the edge of your desk. “Is everything alright?”

You forced a smile, trying to mask the anxiety churning in your gut. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Hotch didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he nodded, his expression thoughtful. “If anything’s bothering you, you can always come to me. You know that, right?”

You nodded, grateful for his concern but unwilling to drag him into something that might just be a product of your overactive imagination. “I know, Hotch. Thank you.”

But Hotch wasn’t the kind of man to let things go easily, especially when it came to his team. Later that day, as the team gathered in the conference room for a briefing, you noticed that Hotch had positioned himself closer to you than usual. It was subtle—just a shift in his usual place—but it felt like a protective barrier, a silent assurance that he was there if you needed him.

The meeting went smoothly, but as it wrapped up, the same coworker who’d been making you uncomfortable sidled up beside you, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that made your skin crawl. Before you could step away, Hotch was there, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

“Y/N, I need you to stay back for a moment. We need to go over the details of the Montgomery case.”

The man beside you stiffened, his eyes flickering between you and Hotch, but he said nothing as he backed away. You watched him leave, your heart pounding in your chest.

When the room was finally empty, Hotch turned to you, his dark eyes filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “This has been going on for a while, hasn’t it?”

You swallowed, nodding reluctantly. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I thought maybe I was overreacting.”

Hotch shook his head, his jaw clenched. “You’re not overreacting. If someone’s making you uncomfortable, it’s my job to protect you. I don’t take that lightly.”

There was something in his tone that made your heart ache, a protective edge that spoke of more than just professional duty. “Hotch, I—”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush your arm where the other man had touched you. The gesture was tender, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I can’t stand the thought of someone hurting you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not when I care about you as much as I do.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your mind racing to process what he’d just said. “You… care about me?”

Hotch’s eyes softened, the usual hardness melting away to reveal something far more vulnerable. “I care about you more than I should, given our positions. But I can’t help it. I need you to be safe, Y/N.”

The confession hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken feelings. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to a truth you hadn’t been ready to face. But as you looked into Hotch’s eyes, saw the sincerity there, you felt the walls you’d built around yourself begin to crumble.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your hand resting on his chest. “I feel the same way,” you admitted softly. “I’ve tried to ignore it, but… I can’t anymore.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air thick with the tension of words left unsaid. But then, Hotch’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

“Let me take care of this,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “Thank you, Hotch.”

He smiled—a rare, genuine smile that lit up his usually stoic features. “You can call me Aaron, you know.”

Your own smile mirrored his as you felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the lingering tension. “Okay… Aaron.”

The moment was perfect, the beginning of something new and fragile, but full of promise. As he pulled you into a comforting embrace, you knew that whatever happened next, you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

And for the first time in weeks, you felt safe.

#idk what else to tag #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #angst #fbi #fluff

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daisymbin · 9 days ago

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more blackmail material? - choi seungcheol

read pt1 first: look at me!

warnings: none i think?

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader (use of she)

genre: friends to lovers~

wc: 2.2k

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

you wake up to the familiar weight of seungcheol’s hand clutching yours tightly; that being the only part of your body that feels comfy. your back hurts & your legs are numb. you had fallen asleep while sitting on the floor by the bed, holding his hand. you look over to him, his brows furrow slightly as he mumbles something intangible as you tried to escape his grasp, and your heart squeezes at the sight. for a moment, you wonder what he’s dreaming about, his expression so peaceful yet intense.

his hair tousled and his expression adorable. a small smile tugs at your lips as you take in the sight of him, feeling an overwhelming sense of affection.

you gently try to pry his hand on yours, but that was proven difficult when seungcheol unconsciously tightens his hold. after a good 10 minutes of trying, you managed to get him to let go, careful not to wake him, and make your way to the kitchen. the apartment is still, save for the soft sounds of the world outside waking up. as you prepare a light breakfast, your mind races with thoughts of what to say when seungcheol wakes up. would he remember anything? would he regret his words?

your heart races at the thought. just as you’re pouring a glass of apple juice, the soft sound of shuffling interrupts your thoughts. you turn to see seungcheol standing in the doorway, bleary-eyed and slightly disheveled, his hair in all sorts of direction but with a small smile on his face that sends a flutter through your chest.

“morning,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“morning,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light, despite the weight of what’s unsaid hanging in the air.

he rubs his eyes, stepping further into the kitchen. “what time is it?”

“almost 11,” you tell him, watching as he yawns and stretches, the sight somehow both adorable and mesmerizing.

“11?” he echoes, clearly surprised. “how did I sleep so long?”

you chuckle softly, knowing the answer. “you were pretty tired from all that dancing and… other activities last night.”

the blush creeping across his cheeks is immediate, and he glances down at the floor, avoiding your gaze. “did I… say anything embarrassing?”

you hesitate, a wave of uncertainty & disappointment washing over you. you see the sincerity in his eyes, and despite the urge to tell him the truth, you weren't sure if its something he had meant to let out, or if he even meant it. maybe he was just…drunk? or maybe he'll come to remember it in a few hours? “no, not really,” you reply, a soft smile gracing your lips.

he seems to relax at your words, though a shadow of confusion still lingers in his expression. “thank god. I was worried I made a fool of myself or said something I shouldn't have.”

just then, his phone buzzes loudly on the table, interrupting the moment. he glances at it, his brow furrowing. “it’s jihoon. he wants me to come help with something.”

“now?” you ask, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the thought of losing this moment.

“yeah, I should probably go,” he says, though he seems reluctant to leave. “but I’ll text you later, okay?”

“sure,” you reply, trying to hide your disappointment. “just…be safe. drink lots of water, you need it.”

“i will.” he promises, a soft smile on his lips before he grabs his things and heads out the door.

as soon as he’s gone, you let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. what now? you wonder, glancing at your phone and deciding to take a break from it all. you text seungkwan to see if he wants to grab brunch.

when you meet seungkwan at your favorite café, he immediately senses something is off. “so, what happened after you sent seungcheol home?” he asks, leaning in, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “did anything…happen last night? did you guys talk it out this morning?”

you shake your head, stirring your latte absently with a sigh. “he doesn’t remember anything, he asked if he said anything stupid last night & I just told him no.”

“he doesn’t remember?” seungkwan looks flabbergasted. “are you serious?”

“sadly, yeah.” you reply, feeling a bit defeated. “I thought he would, but I guess not.”

“that’s not good,” seungkwan muttered softly, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “shall we have have some cake? the red velvet from here is really good, i’ll go order one.”

before you can even answer him, seungkwan already got up, he subtly pulls out his phone and steps away. “just a sec, I’ll be right back,” he says, heading towards the counter of the café.

“since when did you like red velvet?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, but he waves you off with a laugh. “oh, you know.. just the one they have here is good so….” he replies. you can sense he’s hiding something but you dont ask

—

jeonghan wastes no time. after receiving a few messages from an exasperated seungkwan, he heads straight to jihoon's place, excitement & mischief pulsing through him. he arrives, knocking briskly on the door until jihoon opens it, looking surprised to see him.

“jeonghan? what’s up?” jihoon asks, stepping aside to let him in.

“where’s seungcheol?” jeonghan demands, scanning the room until he spots him lounging on the couch, looking rather confused.

“he’s right here. what’s going on?” jihoon asks, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

jeonghan strides over to seungcheol, a teasing grin on his face. “shouldn’t you be taking your girlfriend, no, future mrs choi on a date right now? why are you here with jihoon?”

seungcheol blinks, utterly bewildered. “what are you talking about, jeonghan? I don’t-”

“you don’t what?” jeonghan cuts him off, pulling out his phone. “you don’t remember what you did last night? what you said?”

seungcheol’s expression shifts to confusion, and he rubs the back of his neck, trying to recall the events of the night. “what do you mean? did I do or say something embarrassing?”

with a smirk, jeonghan taps on the video he recorded the night before. he hadn't planned on pulling out his stored blackmail material so soon but thank god he recorded it.

as he hits play, seungcheol’s eyes widen, watching himself stand on the table whining about all the other boys you paid attention to instead of him, followed quickly by a tipsy grin plastered on his face as he confesses his undying love for you.

“what..what is this?” he exclaims, staring at the screen, the realization dawning on him.

“you confessing, you idiot,” jeonghan says, barely holding back laughter. “you were all mushy and everything!”

jihoon, who had been completely unaware of the events from the night before having stayed home, watches the video together, mouth agape. “wait, he really did that?”

“yoon jeonghan did you use A.I to fabricate this or something? there's no way I did that. I wouldn't….” seungcheol tries to push it onto jeonghan, trying to deny reality.

“really? you wouldn't? you think the chances of me using A.I is higher than you drunkardly confessing whilst standing on a table in a club?” jeonghan asked as he tried to hold back his laugher.

jihoon steps closer as he says, “honestly the A.I sounds more believable, you pull stupid pranks all the time, i wouldnt be surprised, but then again….if it's really A.I and it isn't real then thats kinda… nah. yoon jeonghan wouldnt joke about something like this. yup, looks real to me.” jihoon finishes as he pats seungcheol on his back.

jeonghan, seeing as seungcheol still doesn't believe him, pulls out his messaging app, opening his chat with seungkwan, “it's not A.I you idiots, who do you think i am? i love a good prank but this A.I shit is too much work, i dont have enough energy for that. here.” jeonghan then slides his phone over to seungcheol, messages from seungkwan earlier in its full glory.

roommate boo 🍊:

[12:17 PM] I can't believe that idiot can't remember what he did last night!!! hyung, do something!!!

[12:19 PM] I thought he lost his mind when he stood on that table crying over her last night BUT NO, NOW he's lost his mind! i thought some sense finally went into that head of his, how can he forget???

[12:22 PM] hyung!! do something! this isn't right and it's not fair to her! she looks so sad!!!!! show him that video you recorded last night!!!! 😡

“yup,” jeonghan says, enjoying seungcheol's mortification. “and now you can’t just let it slide. you need to talk to her and make this right. tell me, was she still in your apartment this morning?” he asked as he folded his arms. at a small nod of seungcheol’s head, jeonghan continued “that silly girl. I texted her to come down after putting you to bed, i even offered to send her home but she was worried about you and said she'd stay. how could you forget?”

seungcheol feels a rush of embarrassment & guilt flood through him as he stares at the screen which now shows jeonghan's text from you. “I can’t believe I did that,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “and I can't believe I forgot…did she..does she-”

“does she like you?” jeonghan finishes for him, “you're such an idiot. for someone who claims to be looking at the love of their life all the time, you sure are blind for not seeing how she looks at you just as much.” jeonghan says with a satisfied smile on his face. “you owe her a real date after that confession.”

“and an apology.” jihoon added.

“i thought she’d tell me if i’d done something like that, but she didn’t. maybe she’s just… sparing me from rejection.”

jeonghan scoffed. “please, she looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky last night. she’s probably overthinking, just like you are.”

seungcheol lets out a sigh he didnt know he was holding, his resolve building as he processes everything. “I need to find her.” jihoon could only smirking at his friend’s flustered state.

��

after brainstorming with jeonghan and jihoon, seungcheol decided on a plan. he’d cook her favorite, miyeok guk (yall remember cooks coups? lmao) it wasn’t just for birthdays, after all, and he knew she’d appreciate the thought. jeonghan offered to help, though he teased relentlessly about how much was riding on this meal.

it was almost doomed when seungcheol managed to burn the soup, the kitchen filling with a slightly charred smell as he looked on in horror. jeonghan swooped in, shaking his head with an exasperated grin. “good thing i’m here,” he muttered, salvaging the meal with a few choice spices and a lot of patience.

once the miyeok guk was safely simmering, seungcheol added a few finishing touches around his apartment: candles with her favorite scent, a small bouquet of her favorite flowers, and warm lighting that made the whole room feel like a cozy haven.

finally, he texted you, saying he needed help with something. you arrived, clueless, expecting a favor and absolutely not prepared for the sight of him standing there, nerves showing slightly as he shifted from foot to foot.

before you could ask, he cleared his throat. “so… about last night…”

you froze, realizing he might remember. “last night?”

he gave a small, uncertain smile, looking at you with a soft intensity. “i know you didn’t say anything, but… jeonghan showed me the video. i just… i thought maybe you didn’t tell me because… maybe you don’t feel the same, and you were trying to save me from that.”

you stared at him, heart racing. “no, i… i thought you might regret it,” you admitted softly, glancing down. “i didn’t want to bring it up if… if it was something you didn’t mean.”

seungcheol stepped closer, reaching out to gently lift your chin so you’d meet his gaze. “i meant every word,” he murmured. “and this time, i want to say it sober; knowing exactly what i’m saying. i like you… so much. and if you’ll let me, i’d like to take you on a real date.”

a smile spread across your face as you let his words sink in. “then… i’d like that, too,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

the uncertainty melted from his expression, replaced by a soft warmth. reaching out, he took your hand in his, holding it as if it were something precious. he chuckled softly, still a little shy. “so, um… how about some miyeok guk? i might’ve had a bit of help from jeonghan, but it’s your favorite.” he refused to let you know about how he had actually burnt it & jeonghan had salvaged it. but little did he know, jeonghan had been recording his friend again when he was panicking & making a mess of the kitchen while whining, more blackmail material perhaps?

“i’d love that,” you replied, heart swelling at the gesture.

as you both sat down, laughing together over the slightly imperfect soup, you felt a contentment settle in, the kind that only came from being exactly where you were meant to be, with exactly the person you were meant to be with.

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httpsserene · 1 year ago

Text

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟱: 𝗹𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅 & 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. vaginal sex. lingerie. marriage. unsafe sex. no pull-out. tender sex. slow and sensual. cockwarming. intimacy. no beta we get disqualified like lewis and charles. not dirty? husband/wife kink (if that’s a thing). more soft. sickeningly sweet (ig). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lewis hamilton x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: icu • coco jones

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: needed something to soothe the soul after the austin gp disqualifications. this is at the same time the least kinky thing i’ve written so far and the most kinky thing ever. because love feels filthier to write, idk if that makes sense. it’s on the shorter side because i ditched the preamble in order to finish this in time lol, but i dedicate this to my twin @saintwrld :) (it reminds me of her renaissance series :p y'all should check it out @saintslewis) and i hope everyone enjoys it !!!!

do you want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

lewis sighs tiredly as he lies down in bed next to you. the mercedes driver turns on his side facing you, and laughs quietly. your bonnet, of course, has grown a pair of legs and climbed its way off your head and is sleeping on the pillow next to you—your braids fanned out on the pillow underneath you unprotected. lewis carefully wrangles the bonnet back on you and smiles adoringly when he notices that you're wearing the matching bonnet he got you almost nine years ago. and to feel how the matching bonnets makes his heart stutter after spending a decade of his life with you, two of those years being married; he knows being married to you is one of the best decisions he’s ever made.

he tugs you, his wife, closer; cooing out loud when he notices that you’re clad in one of his tommy hilfiger hoodies, tucking your head under his chin, arms wrapping around you tightly, and legs intertwining comfortably. you hum against his chest, nuzzling deeper into his bare skin, and a faint smile lingers on your lips, and unconscious reaction to having your husband home again. lewis throws his head back groaning, he can’t wake you up now. you had spammed his phone with texts before his flight, promising that he’d get a “surprise” when he got home, for doing so well this weekend—and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up just so he can fuck you. well, he thinks, he can just get a couple hours of sleep in and then he’ll wake you up and enjoy whatever gift you’ve decided to bless him with and he drifts into sleep.

when lewis wakes up again, the first thing he notices is that he’s slept for way more than a couple hours. the noon sun has brightened the room immensely, and he’s shocked that he managed to stay asleep for so long with how the sun is shining directly on his face. he shifts onto his back, groaning at the soreness left from racing, and glances down at you to see if your still sleeping, and chokes on his breath. his hoodie is rucked up your waist from sleep, exposing your black lace panties, and when he shifts to get a better view of your ass, his body jostles yours and reveals the silver shift of glitter in the fabric.

“fuck,” lewis murmurs, he’s always been weak for you dressing in his team colors. one of his tattooed hands takes a generous squeeze of your ass, and he wonders if you're wearing the matching top. his grip on your ass may have become a smidge too tight at that thought, because you softly gasp awake. lewis watches as you squirm against him softly, face twisted in confusion, before you make eye contact with him, and you relax.

you smile sweetly, your left hand rising to rest on his cheek, “welcome home, champ.” lewis laughs at your half-asleep tone, nuzzling his face into your hand, before turning to press a kiss at the ring he put on your finger. “it was only a second-place finisher, love. no need to call me ‘champ.’”

frowning at him, you scoff, “you are still a seven-time world champion, are you not?” lewis concedes to your point; he’s not interested in being scolded by you today—he’s more concerned with unwrapping the present you got him. he hums and noses at your chin before he captures your lips in a dizzying kiss. your lips are languid against each other, there’s no rush in rediscovering the crevices within your mouths. lewis ignores how your teeth tug at his bottom lip, urging him to speed up—he only deepens the kiss, not quickening his pace, coercing you to melt under his passion.

he pulls away, enjoying how your gaze has transformed from sleep-hazy to lust-hazy. “mmm, is my ‘surprise’ the panties and matching bra you have under my hoodie?” lewis asks you. you nod your head gently, scooting back and pulling the hoodie up to reveal the matching silver-glitter covered black bralette. he moans at the sight of you; perky breasts and nipples hard underneath the lace, your eyes half-lidded in arousal. his hands reach out to grasp at your chest, thumbs dragging over your nipples, causing a shaky moan to fall from your lips at the friction. you reach to pull the hoodie off but lewis grunts in dissent, “nah, keep it on for me. just make sure it stays up, love.”

“ohmygod,” you giggle quietly, “you can just say you’re obsessed with fucking me in your clothes.”

lewis rolls his eyes at you, “okay: i’m obsessed with fucking you in my clothes. i love the way you smell like me after, i love the way your smell lingers when i wear them after you, i love the way you look in my clothes; if i could choose, i wish you’d only ever wear my clothes and have pretty lingerie underneath them all the time.”

you stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting him to flip your teasing words in that manner, maybe that’s why your panties suddenly feel a little wet. you bite your lip, trying to think of a way to regain the upper hand, and lewis clocks your eyes brightening.

“i fingered myself open for you last night. i’m sure you could still slip in, if you’re up for it.”

lewis chuckles, half-crazed, and murmurs, “if i’m up for it? promise me, if i ever say no to having sex with you that you’ll take me to see a doctor?”

you hum, hand shifting to rub at the nape of his neck, “i promise, baby. can you fuck me now—i fell asleep waiting for you last night.”

lewis quickly gets to work positioning your body. he spins you around to your side, your back pressed against his chest, and spreads your thighs open with his knee. you moan at his easy manhandling, and press your ass back to grind against the tent in his boxers. he encourages the movement of your hips, even directing the grind for a few beats before he halts your motions. his hand slips in between the two of you, and tugs his dick out. he pulls your panties to the side and slowly slips into you. your mouth drops open in a silent moan, overwhelmed by the stretch from his dick spreading you open. lewis sighs deeply as he bottoms out within you, and kisses you on the shoulder. he stays still, allowing you the time you need to adjust. you shift your hips gently, testing the feel, and hum in assent.

lewis moves his hand to find yours, and locks them over your navel, using them to pull you as close to his body as he can. he whispers softly, “can we take it nice and slow today? i want to make love to you today.”you hum, and it shifts to a whine as his hips gently rock into yours, and whimper out, “it’s your present—can use it however you want.”

lewis keeps the motion of hips slow and controlled, pulling out halfway before sinking in as deep as he can reach. it’s stunning how you can feel every bit of love lewis puts into his thrusts, seeping into you. he continues to pepper kisses on your neck and shoulder, and slips his other arm underneath you, and moving your body slowly so you twist back further, exposing your chest to him again. the hoodie remains bunched under your armpits, and lewis tugs the bralette down underneath your chest, causing your breasts to spill out lewdly over the top. his hand rests over your chest, not groping in any manner, just holding you close, feeling how your heartbeat speeds up from his movements.

in the decade you’ve been in a relationship with lewis, you’ve had some life-changing sex. but, for some reason, the slow and sensual sex has to be your favorite. it feels restorative, like he’s breathing life back into your body, with every deep thrust he’s showing you how much he loves you. and he’s not afraid to say it either.

“i love you, so much—you’re so good to me—my wonderful wife—all for me—all mine—i’ll make you feel so good, love—forever, yeah—you and me, like this—i win everything for you—“

you rock back against him, always weak when he can help but run his mouth, and start rambling back to him, mouth loose from the pleasure he continues to give to you, “my oh! my husband—only you for me, yeah?” he moans into your neck, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you calling him your husband.

there’s no telling how long the two of you are wrapped together, neither you are in any rush to reach a climax—you both crave the intimacy sex like this provides, especially after he’s been away. your orgasms crest over your bodies slowly but they’re more satisfying than any other release you could get from rough sex. lewis continues to grind his dick in you as deep as he can, not making any motion to pull out, and ignores the building sensitivity he’s feeling.

lewis smiles at the blissed out look on your face, and watches how you struggle to open your eyes; he’s been fucking you back to sleep this whole time—that would explain why your rambles disappeared as you got closer to your peak. he tugs the hoodie back down over your chest, and one-handedly drags the duvet to cover your bodies, not wanting you to get cold. “hey, love,” he calls softly, “do you want me to pull out and clean you up?” you shake your head, and turn back onto your side fully, pressing you back to his chest again, and you start to doze off. lewis rubs at your waist gently, soothing you further into sleep—he’s never going to say no to having you keep his dick warm.

lewis carefully reaches towards the nightstand and grabs his phone, and quickly sets an hour alarm. he won’t let himself be fooled by the call of sleep and let the whole day fly by, like he did last night—he’d rather not be awoken by his angry wife screaming about uti’s and whatnot. he’ll just bathe in the afterglow while you sleep soundly; he just wants to look after you a little longer.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr@nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 7 months ago

Note

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter.

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway.

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence.

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan.

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life.

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together.

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you.

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes.

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk.

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop.

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in.

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.”

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.”

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day.

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually.

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid.

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did.

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.”

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner.

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way.

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude.

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.”

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked.

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“What’d you do this weekend?”

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.”

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?”

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his.

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.”

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of.

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked.

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked.

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.”

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot.

God, you were down bad.

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face.

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed.

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded.

That was all you needed to hear.

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible.

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little.

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting.

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual.

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken.

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.”

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?”

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger.

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.”

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm.

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed.

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece.

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice.

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!”

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his.

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive.

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless.

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!baureader

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 month ago

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The Eye of the Hurricane [38] - The End

A.N: The last chapter! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful support throughout the story my loves, you're amazing! ❤️

Summary: The heir becomes the boss.

Word Count: 3537

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

The week after you almost died was chaotic, and not even for the reasons you had assumed earlier.

Needless to say, everyone in your life was out for blood, but the problem was that there was a specific lack of people to take revenge on.

“Do you think it’ll go back to how it used to be?” you asked Bucky as you turned your head to inspect your nose in the hallway mirror while he kept pacing in the living room, gritting his teeth while he typed something into his phone.

“We should kill every person who worked for Ian.”

“Because Sarah said it would go back to normal but it doesn’t feel like it.”

“I bet Ryan can give us a list, and—”

“Ryan already killed his inner circle that night.”

“There has to be some people left,” Bucky insisted and you heaved a sigh.

“Bucky, you can’t kill people just because they worked for Ian,” you said. “Most of them switched sides already—”

“That’s not enough, and once a traitor always a traitor.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way to him to stop his pacing, cupping his cheek. He took a deep breath, his blue eyes locked in yours as he clenched his jaw like he was trying to keep it together.

“Buck.”

“They hurt you.”

“Not really, the ones who hurt me are dead,” you said. “I killed one of them, Ryan killed the rest.”

“I need to do something,” he insisted through his teeth. “I…it’s bad enough that I let you get hurt—”

“You didn’t let me get hurt.”

“I was supposed to protect you,” he said. “Not…not you or Ryan.”

“I’ll let the next person who tries to kill me know about that.”

“Charm.”

“Bucky,” you said with a small laugh. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“Your nose is broken,” he reminded you. “There are stitches on your head.”

“Both of those things are temporary,” you assured him. “Seriously. Besides I…you know, it’ll be a good look for the sit down tomorrow night. I’ll look badass.”

He opened his mouth to argue but you both turned your heads when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you called out and the front door opened before Ryan stepped into the apartment, his hands clasped behind him, his back completely straight in the perfect soldier pose.

“Ma’am,” he said. “Mr. Barnes.”

“Ryan, hi!” you said. “You’re back already?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said before stealing a look at Bucky and you waved a hand in the air.

“You can say whatever you want to say in front of Bucky.”

“When I asked to have the morning off, I took the liberty of visiting Mr. Ian’s warehouse,” Ryan said, making you tilt your head.

“He had a warehouse?”

“Yes ma’am. I wanted to make sure we have cleaned out everyone who might still support him or pose a threat to you, so…” he trailed off and pulled out a flash drive from his pocket, extending his hand. You took it from him, then heaved a sigh.

“Anyone we know?”

“I didn’t check what’s inside, ma’am,” he said. “The only reason why I didn’t say where I was going was because I wasn’t sure if there was anything inside that warehouse, but there was. We found it in the safe.”

“We?” Bucky repeated and Ryan nodded.

“One of my trusted men, sir, he can crack open any case.”

You pressed your lips together as you plugged the drive into your laptop, then clicked on the first file and let out a breath, staring at the screen.

“That fucker…” you murmured. “Ah. Well now it makes sense.”

“What?” Bucky asked and you licked your lips.

“Check out the name here.”

Bucky came closer to see the screen, then raised his brows.

“Should’ve known,” he muttered. “If there was going to be anyone HYDRA had its claws in, it’d be Ian.”

“I didn’t think he was this big of an idiot.”

“Did you know he was making deals with HYDRA?” Bucky asked Ryan who shook his head.

“No sir, I wasn’t allowed in most of the meetings. Mrs. Barnes saw it before.”

“Yeah, he kept him outside,” you said. “Figures. Oh, my dad will hate this.”

“Will you tell the others?”

You paused for a moment, then shook your head.

“No,” you said. “This stays in the family—that includes you as well, Ryan.”

Ryan bowed slightly. “Of course, ma’am.”

“Will you give us a moment please?” you asked him and he nodded, then walked out of the room. You turned to Bucky, tapping your fingertips on the kitchen island.

“This is how they had all those attacks on everyone’s territory—everyone’s but ours,” you told him. “That’s how Ian knew it wasn’t HYDRA, but us.”

“I guess he’s lucky you killed him already,” Bucky said. “This is betrayal. People would be racing each other to kill him.”

“Working with HYDRA though?” you insisted. “That doesn’t just mean betraying others, it means betraying the family. Forget the other bosses, my dad would kill him if he heard about this.”

Bucky grinned. “That argument should come in handy. This afternoon.”

You shook your head.

“I am not looking forward to that,” you murmured. “Especially with my aunt there.”

“She’s still here?”

“She’s leaving the city today, apparently,” you said. “I doubt she’ll go without giving me a piece of her mind first.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No,” you said. “You have your own stuff for preparation for tomorrow, to—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he cut you off. “There won’t be anyone against you being there, we already know that.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to make sure.”

He nodded his head and came closer to carefully kiss you on the top of your head while you pocketed the flash drive, then looked up at him with a small grin.

“Seriously, how bad do I look?” you asked him and he let out a chuckle.

“You look breathtaking as usual, baby.”

“You’re such a liar,” you said with a small push to his arm and he caught your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m serious. Broken nose or not, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen my whole life.”

You could feel a smile curling your lips.

“And not fucking you until you get better will be torture,” Bucky added, making you scoff a laugh.

“So romantic.”

“Only for you,” he played along and slapped your butt. “Come on. We both have things to do, boss.”

“Aw I can get used to that,” you said, still grinning, then walked out of the apartment. Ryan was already waiting for you by the entrance, and straightened his back as soon as he saw you.

“Ma’am.”

“Let’s go pay a visit to my dear father,” you said and walked to the elevator with him following you.

Your father had been furious when he saw you at the hospital, so much that you thought he would’ve killed Ian if you hadn’t.

Well, technically Bucky would kill Ian before him but…

So you knew he was going to be happy to see you but you weren’t so sure if the feeling was gonna last when he heard what you were going to say to him.

Your aunt was on her way out, loading her suitcases to the car when your car pulled over in front of the house and you heaved a sigh, then gritted your teeth. It wasn’t that you didn’t see this conversation coming, yet that did nothing to put you at ease.

“Here we go,” you murmured as the driver opened your door for you and you stepped out, your aunt gritting her teeth the moment she saw you.

“Auntie,” you said and she held up a hand, gesturing you to be silent.

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t call me that.”

“Is father inside?”

“You’re a monster,” she spat and you pursed your lips together.

“He was going to kill me,” you told her. “You know the rules, and so did he. Don’t blame me if he was too stupid to win.”

She eyed you up and down, making Ryan take a step closer but you motioned at him to stop.

“It’s fine Ryan, thank you,” you told him before your aunt let out a hysterical laugh.

“I see you surround yourself with traitors already.”

“Ryan is my right hand auntie, you need to respect him,” you told her, making Ryan give you a proud smile before his expression turned stony again upon turning to look at your aunt.

“I do hope you and Bucky have a son,” your aunt said through her teeth. “Because trust me, I will take him away from you.”

You managed to keep your expression completely calm despite the small shudder running down your spine.

“You can try,” you told her and she scoffed, then got into the car and slammed the door. You shook your head slightly, climbing the stairs to walk through the front door.

“I apologize on her behalf, Ryan,” you told him and he shook his head.

“Don’t, ma’am,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for. She’s a mother, it’s normal that she’s angry at me.”

“Well if my mother were here, she would tear her apart for what her son tried to do,” you muttered as you stopped by the door to your father’s office. The men waiting there nodded at you and you knocked on the door, then peeked your head in.

“Dad?”

“Oh sweetheart, come in!” he said, standing up from his seat. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Good things I hope,” you muttered, letting him kiss your cheek before you sat down on the armchair across from his desk. He filled you a glass of whiskey and put it in front of you, then filled his glass as well and went behind his desk to sit down.

“Any word on that traitorous bastard?”

“Ethan?” you said. “Not yet but any day now. We know he’s not in Chicago, a couple of Bucky’s men are already waiting for him at his hometown and…” you trailed off. “It’s honestly just a matter of who will get him first, you or Bucky or Rhett.”

“Do they know not to kill him yet?”

You grinned. “Oh trust me. Both Bucky and Rhett have a lot of…creative ideas.”

“So do I,” your father murmured and you pulled out the flash drive from your pocket.

“Speaking of traitors,” you said, “You might want to know Ian was working with HYDRA.”

Your father stared at you for a couple of seconds in silence. “What?”

“That’s how they got in,” you said. “And that’s why our territory was never attacked and everyone else’s was.”

“Our territory was attacked.”

“Not by HYDRA.”

“We don’t—” he started, then raised his brows, heaving a deep sigh. “You.”

“Well Ian is dead now so it doesn’t really matter,” you said. “But yeah.”

“I asked you and you said no.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I didn’t exactly have leverage yet, nor had I proven myself. I will use the names in the file to track them down, I figured you wouldn’t want anyone else to get involved, especially the other bosses.”

“You thought right,” he said. “Especially the sit down tomorrow…”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” you said, your heart beating in your ears and he pulled his brows together, then scoffed a laugh.

“Sweetheart, obviously I will name you my heir tomorrow.”

You took a sip of the whiskey, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah I figured you’d say that,” you said. “That’s the problem.”

“The problem?”

“I didn’t almost die just so that you can name me your heir,” you said, looking him in the eye. “That’s not how it works. You know how cage fight works, I’ve been through worse. Being named heir is not going to be enough.”

He frowned at you as if he was confused before a look of realization dawned on his face and he leaned back on his seat, his eyes locked in yours.

“Is this a hostile takeover?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Doesn’t have to be hostile.”

A silence fell upon the room while he stared at you, then let out a breath.

“And you think you’re ready?”

“I know I am.”

“Just out of curiosity,” he said. “What would happen if I refused?”

“You can refuse,” you said, your voice completely calm. “But it’s not going to change anything. I have the support from other bosses, I have proven myself and your latest choice of heir fucked over everyone, which could backfire on you. So, I’m sitting at the head of that table tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

An impressed smile curled his lips before he heaved a sigh, then stood up and opened up his arms.

“Come here,” he said, making you frown.

“If you’re planning on stabbing me father—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, come here,” he said and you got up from the armchair, then stepped into his embrace. He hugged you tight, then pressed a kiss on your hair and pulled back to look at you better.

“My little girl all grown up to threaten me,” he said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean I’d rather not, to be honest with you,” you muttered. “I’m just saying, there’s family and there’s business. I’m threatening the former boss right now, not my father.”

He hummed, still smiling softly.

“You have one thing right, you have proven yourself, over and over again,” he said. “Even before that bastard pulled a gun on you. I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner, Y/N. That right there was exactly what I was trying to protect you from.”

“Yeah, protecting me from business,” you said. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t have let him take it from me, dad. One of us was going to end up dead either way.”

That made him clench his jaw. “I didn’t think he’d have the guts to do that to you,” he said. “That will be on my conscience forever.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said. “I mean yeah you fucked up but you know, there’s no one who doesn’t take me seriously in the business after that whole fight. I doubt it’d have the same impact if you handed it to me, so…it’ll work in my favor.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“My father has nothing to worry about,” you told him. “And the former boss is paying for that mistake with me replacing him. Hostile takeover and all that.”

He let out a chuckle, then hugged you again.

“Perhaps I’ll buy another boat,” he said. “I should ask George what he does with all the time he has in retirement.”

A laugh escaped from you and you held up your hands. “Hey, if you want to be a cliché, I can’t stop you,” you said and checked your wristwatch. “I need to go and meet Bucky, we’re having lunch.”

“Alright,” he said. “Tell him I said hi.”

“Of course,” you said and kissed him on the cheek, then walked to the door before turning to look at him. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not making this harder than it should be,” you told him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Well,” he said. “You’re the head of the family business now. It’s your rules, the rest will follow your orders. Including the former boss.”

You let a smile curl your lips, then walked out of the office and passed through the hallway to step outside, your heels echoing on the marble floor.

There had been numerous sit downs at this place but this was the first one that you would attend as a boss, so needless to say you were way too impatient.

Ever since you had stepped a foot in your father’s house, you couldn’t stop tapping your foot. The guests were beginning to arrive one by one, and you desperately needed a drink but you knew you had to keep a completely clear head so you couldn’t exactly drink what the rest were drinking.

“Here,” Bucky said, touching the small of your back with one hand while giving you a glass of water with the other.

“Thank you,” you said and he pressed a kiss on your temple, making you frown and pull back. “Nope.”

“What?”

“This is a work meeting,” you told him, nodding at Clint and Natasha by the corner of the living room while Tony talked to your father and Bucky frowned.

“They already know we’re married, Charm.”

“Well we can’t be too lovey-dovey!” you whispered through your teeth and he chuckled.

“Babe, it’s going to be fine,” he said. “You’ll do great, I promise.”

“Right?” you felt the need to ask and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I love you, you know that right?” you asked and Bucky smirked.

“I love you too,” he said. “And you’re not going to war. It’s your first meeting as a boss, but it is still a meeting.”

You nodded your head, taking a huge sip of your water and turned your head when you heard the familiar chatter. Sarah and Becca walked into the living room, making your jaw drop.

“Hey,” Becca said as soon as she reached you. “Girl talk Buck, beat it.”

“Nice to see you too,” Bucky told her with a roll of his eyes, then turned to Sarah. “Hey.”

“Hi Bucky. Sam and Steve are in the hallway.”

“Great,” he said and walked away from you. You pulled Sarah into a hug, then pulled back to hug Becca.

“Oh my God,” you said. “What are you both doing here?”

“Well it’s your first day on the job,” Becca said. “You know, emotional support.”

“What she said,” Sarah said. “And I figured you’d be nervous, so…”

“I was,” you said with a smile. “Guys, you’re amazing.”

“I even brought a cactus,” Becca said. “Apparently that’s what people get people when they start jobs, who knew?”

“They usually get them flowers, Becca,” Sarah said and Becca waved a hand in the air.

“I haven't worked a day in my life in case you guys forgot,” she said. “Oh and Leila said ‘kick everyone’s ass’.”

“Tell her I said thank you,” you said and took a deep breath. “It’ll go well, right?”

“It’ll go great,” Sarah said, lifting your chin a bit to check your nose from the side. “It is healing nicely. The stitches too.”

“Thanks to my awesome doctor,” you said with a smile and Becca looked around.

“Your bitch of an aunt isn’t here then?”

“Nope,” you said. “She left earlier.”

“Without making a scene?” Sarah asked, disbelief apparent in her tone and you shook your head.

“Of course not,” you said. “She…she told me something.”

“What?”

“That she hopes Bucky and I have a son,” you said. “So that she can take him away from me, the same way I took Ian away from her.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and Becca raised a brow.

“Oh please,” she said. “She does know that when Bucky and you have a child, that child will be like, the most protected heir in the entire world, right?”

“I guess,” you said and Sarah frowned.

“You can’t let that get to you,” she said and you shook your head again.

“I’m not,” you said. “That’s not it.”

Becca pulled back slightly, then eyed the water glass in your hand.

“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant,” she said, making your eyes widen.

“No!” you said. “No, I’m just not drinking because I’m trying to keep my head clear, it’s my first meeting with everyone else as a boss—no, I’m just worried I guess.”

“I agree with Becca,” Sarah said. “First of all, that child will be the most protected heir in the city, with your people and Bucky’s people. Second of all, who’s going to take your aunt seriously?”

“No one,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Yeah. Like I said, I’m just worried.”

“Don’t be—” Sarah started but you heard Ryan’s voice by the door.

“The meeting room is ready,” he said and everyone walked out of the living room one by one. Your father gave you a soft smile and you smiled at him back, then turned to Sarah and Becca.

“Wish me luck.”

“You got this,” Sarah said and Becca squeezed your hand.

“You were born for this,” she told you. “Go get ‘em tiger.”

You let out a breath, then made your way out of the living room to the meeting room before you stepped inside, your heart beating in your ears. Bucky was walking to his own seat and you brushed your hand against his as subtly as you could while you walked past him. He winked at you before sitting down as well, making you bite back a smile.

You got this.

Becca was right. You were born for this.

You took your seat at the head of the table, Ryan approaching to place a file in front of you and you cleared your throat, then lifted your head to look at everyone around the table.

“So,” you said, your voice completely calm. “Shall we begin?”

The End.

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folkwhoredoll · 8 months ago

Text

library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books

word count: 0.9k

warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.

With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.

Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.

It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.

This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.

Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.

"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.

"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"

Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."

You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."

"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."

You snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.

"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.

"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."

You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.

"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"

Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.

"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.

Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.

As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.

Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."

A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.

With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

#drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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cybergirrll · 26 days ago

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fuse

hamzah x reader

synopsis- power goes out in your apartment complex, your friend hamzah who lives on the floor above you stops by in the middle of the night

fluff?!!! friends to lovers?!! (p.s. i personally think if you listen to pretty girl by clairo while you read it makes the whole thing a lot cuter)

about 5 minutes ago, you’d woken up for no apparent reason. you figured you’d drift back into your previous ever so peaceful slumber, but you were wrong.

so now, annoyed at your minds inability to fall back asleep you stared at the wall, mindlessly observing how the moonlight ever so slightly lit up the back of the curtains, the drapes allowing the softest light to mix amongst the darkness the room withheld.

usually when you awoke in the night like this, you fell back asleep almost immediately, having no memory of it in the morning. this time however, your heart fluttered in an exhilarating way. maybe it was the overload of coffee you had that morning, or maybe it was the boy upstairs.

hamzah lived on floor 3 in apartment A. you lived on floor 2 in apartment A. you’d met about four months ago, when there was a mix up with the mail addresses and you were getting coupons for cat litter. quickly, you became great friends. you were kind of lonely, with your friends living on the other side of town, and him being alone most of the time with his two cats. you loved having movie nights, going grocery shopping together at the store down the block, pet sitting red and blue, meeting on the balcony, complaining about your annoying neighbors, talking about movies, music, games and everything. it was one of the greatest friendships you’d ever had.

however, in the past week, something felt different. you tried to suppress the growing attraction that swelled your heart, twisting your stomach with butterflies whenever you saw him. it was so corny you felt sick. he was only a friend, you’d never even thought about liking him like that before but it crept up on you so suddenly, like an unexpected wave that hit you from behind, knocking you over and drifting you out into the cerulean blue sea. you weren’t used to feeling like this. so, you ignored it.

he was the last thing on your mind when you went to sleep and the first when you woke up in the middle of the night. you couldn’t help it. he was so awkward but in his own way where it was funny and sweet and so charming and hes so gentle and nice and so funny and he laughs at all your jokes and makes you laugh and his smile was so cute and his hair is adorable and he’s so smart and cute andUuooaagghhhh my god. he was driving you absolutely insane.

you felt so nervous to be around him, like he might sense what’s in your eyes and then you would implode right then and there. when he talks to you about how he used to be so depressed living on his own and how it got better but he still feels that empty void in him sometimes, you just want to kiss him on the mouth right then and there and tell him everything’s going to be okay and that you loved him so much and you wanted him to be happy forever. these kinds of thoughts kept you up the past few nights.

you checked the time on your phone 1:15 AM. welp. you were already up. you leaned over, clicking your lamp on. the bulb didn’t light up. you clicked it off and on again and still, there was no dim glow you hoped for. you peered down at the wall where the lamp was plugged in. “hmmm.” you got up and flicked the light switch by your door, your overhead light unresponsive.

a soft knock on your front door.

you were creeped out now, sure you were about to have some true crime documentary made about you. you waited for a moment, another soft knock. it wasn’t in your imagination. taking another deep breath, you slipped out of your room and over to the front door. you peeked through the peephole, relieved, and a bit nervous, to see hamzah.

you opened the door. “you scared the shit out of me.” his eyes looked sleepy, curls unruly. “sorry,” he smiled softly “i just wanted to check on you. i think a power line broke or something.” you stared at him for a moment, gripping the door a little tighter when you realized you were only in your underwear and an oversized t shirt.

“um- yeah. yeah, i’m okay. why were you up?” you tugged your t shirt down a little bit to cover the tops of your thighs. thankfully his gaze stayed fixed on your eyes. “i was editing a video, and then uhh- everything went dark. yeah.” he chuckled softly

“yeah you look tire-“ “why were you up?” he blurted.

“oh- i, no sorry what were you saying.”

“oh nothing,” you giggled a little.

“i just woke up in the middle of the night, couldn’t go back to sleep.”

he nodded, smiling softly, a little flustered.

you two stood there for a few quiet moments, just looking at each other. you felt so fluttery, like you were in a dream. maybe it was the eeriness of the situation, the fact that it was one in the morning and he was at your door like he’d usually be during the day. you weren’t sure if you should invite him in, or if it was a stupid idea because he looked tired. but then why was he here? it was almost the middle of the night and it’s not like a power outage would wake you up, so he would’ve assumed you were asleep.

he smiled softly at you and turned to walk away, taking a few steps before you ran out and grabbed his hand. “wait.”

he turned around, his eyes wide and soft in the darkness of the hallway. shoot. now he was looking at you and now you had to explain yourself but you don’t even know why you did that, you just couldn’t let him leave. you were still holding onto his hand

“stay.”

“you want me to?” hamzah’s voice was gentle, soft, drizzling down your spine like warm honey. he was talking to you this way, his eyes glimmering, so relaxed, so sleepy, so dark, so him.

you nodded, calculating your next moves in your head. this moment felt so perfect, you didn’t want to let it slip through your fingers.

you could lead him inside, just to go back talking again like the friends you were but something about this, standing in the hallway now made you want it to last. you wanted to capture this moment and keep it in a jar and live in that jar forever, you wanted to pour whatever was in that jar into your tea every morning, hoping it gave you that same unreal feeli-

his hand in yours. he squeezed it softly.

without thinking he laced his fingers with yours, slowly led you back inside your apartment and closed your door. you turned to face him, your back against the door. he moved closer, big brown eyes peering into yours, trying to figure something out.

you just looked and looked at him until he smiled at you. he’d never been like this with anyone, really. but he liked this feeling with you. you place your hand on his shoulder, awkwardly moving up to the side of his neck.

his hand fell down to your waist, other hand still holding yours tightly. he looks at you, a little nervous. you nod. he mumbles your name softly, hand fisting the side of your cotton shirt.

“you’re my favorite,” he mumbles again, under his breath. you bury your fingers in the back of his head and gently pull him closer until his nose brushes against yours. you can tell he’s a little nervous.

you kiss his lips softly and then pull away a little, looking into his eyes. he leans back in, hand cupping your face as he kisses you again. he was so warm and gentle against you, afraid you would shatter if he wasn’t soft enough with you.

he didn’t think he was much for affection, but the way you sighed against his mouth when he kissed you made him want more of you. he wanted to kiss you all day all the time forever. god he liked you so much. how did he go so long without this?

you pulled away a little, forehead against his. “hamzah i-“ a car alarm starts blaring outside, red headlights pulsing and flashing faintly from outside, piercing the dark. you hear muffled chatter and complaints from outside. hamzah pulled away, glancing towards the window and muttering something about bad timing.

“i um- i should head back to my place.” he shoved his hands in his pockets. you open your mouth to speak, hesitating and then just nodding. “okay, yeah um-“ you slide off of the door and open it for him. he looks at you quickly and mumbles a “night” before he slips out of the door and you close it behind him.

you slide down against the door, knees tucked against your chest on the floor. the car alarm finally died down outside. what were you even supposed to do now? go back to sleep?

hope u enjoyed!! sorry if this totally sucks 🤧

#hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah x reader #hamzah fluff #hamzah fic

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just-jordie-things · 9 months ago

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fuck it, i love you - okkotsu yuuta

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 11k warnings: none really. reader likes lemon oreos bcuz i projected onto this <3 summary: (y/n) and yuuta get to know each other better over the phone while he's on assignment in africa. feelings ensue. more info: long distance friends to lovers, yuuta got that romance dawg in him

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[ and you know everyone adores you // you can’t feel it and you’re tired // baby, wish that you would hold me or just say that you were mine // but it’s killing me slowly ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first time he gets a call from her, Yuuta is a little perplexed before he answers the phone. Of the few people he might’ve expected a phone call from, (y/n’s) was the last name he expected to see on his screen. Nonetheless, he answered it right away.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Okkotsu,” Her voice was so cheerful, he could’ve easily believed that she meant to call someone else. But she’d said his name, so it couldn’t have been a mistake. “How’s Morocco?”

“Morocco, is….” He trails off, fingers tapping a poor rhythm on the table in front of him. Doing paperwork in a hotel room wasn’t ideal. The desk provided was always small, and the chair always uncomfortable. But it wasn’t like he had a lot to report anyways. “It’s alright, I guess”

“Alright, you guess?” She repeats curiously. “Sounds like you’re bored already”

“Bored-? N-no, no I’m not bored,” He stammered over his words, and (y/n) could be heard laughing through the line. “I’m just, um, I’m trying to do a report right now” He said sheepishly.

Trying being the key word. He’d practically given up ten minutes before he got her call anyways.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” (y/n) apologized right away. “Am I keeping you? Should I go?”

“N-no!” Yuuta squeaked, cringing at himself as he slumped back into his hair, covering his face with his hand as if there was anyone else around to hide his embarrassment from. “No, you’re not keeping me, I… I have nothing for this report anyways” He explained.

“Really? Not goin’ so well?” She asked.

“Uh- it’s just- I don’t want to bore you with it,” He sighed. “Anyways, what’s the call for? Isn’t it like…” He glances behind him at the analog clock on his bedside table, wincing when he sees how late it was. “Three in the morning, your time?”

“Actually, it’s only two forty-five,” She corrects with a clear smile in her tone. “And aren’t I allowed to check in? You’ve been gone, for like, weeks”

“Y-yeah, you’re allowed,” He mumbles back, face feeling hot. “I just figured, y’know, you’re… busy”

“Never too busy,” She half-jokes. “So tell me all about it, boring parts and all”

Yuuta’s brows pinch together, a small scoff leaving his throat.

“Really?” He’s unsure as to why she’d want to hear about the ins and outs of a trip that so far had proven to be pointless. “You sure you want to hear about it?”

“Course,” She hums back. “Beats studying”

So he complies. There’s not much to tell, but he finds a way to walk her through what his day-to-day with Miguel was like. Looking for more of the Black Rope. She seemed to have some interest in the cursed tool, asking excitedly if it could stop the cursed techniques of even the strongest special grade sorcerers.

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point,” He chuckles. “But it’s been slow. I’m starting to think this is going to take longer than we thought…”

(y/n’s) a good listener. She lets him ramble on even when he’s not making sense, and continues to prod and ask more questions when she comes up with them. He thinks maybe she’s just stalling to keep her from studying, but he figures there were countless other things she could’ve done to keep her occupied… right?

It’s not until Yuuta notices the clock and remembers the time difference between them that he finally stops his rambling and suggests they end their call soon.

“Ah- it’s late, and I’m probably boring you now, too” He lets out a light hearted chuckle that she can’t help but reciprocate.

“I guess I should try to study just a little” She huffs.

Yuuta scoffs, a small smile on his face as he picks up his pen and stares at the half-finished report in front of him. Maybe he’d been stalling, too.

“Or you could just go to bed, cram last minute tomorrow” He suggests.

She seems amused by that, and when she lets out a little laugh he thinks it’s the right choice, too. The noise comes out lazily, full of sleepiness. It’s obvious even through the phone. Yuuta wonders if she’s hunched over her desk, ignoring the textbook and notes right in front of her.

“You’re pr’lly right,” She murmurs, her tiredness even more evident in her voice. “I guess I’ll go to bed then”

“Okay,” Yuuta drums the pen against his thigh in an erratic beat. Something about saying goodnight makes him feel a little disappointed.

Until now, he hadn’t realized that it had been weeks since he’d casually talked to a friend. Toge texted plenty, and sometimes he heard from Panda and Maki, too. But this felt… different.

“Well, goodnight-”

“And Okkotsu?” She interrupts him without realizing, quickly apologizing before she continues her thought. “You didn’t bore me, just for the record. I think it’s neat that you get to be on such a special assignment. I hope that it gets more exciting for you”

He’s thankful that she didn’t opt to facetime him, because his face grows so warm he just knows he’s turned into a tomato. And something about sitting in his lonely little hotel room and blushing over such a simple comment is downright embarrassing.

He laughs nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt to relieve the heat on his neck.

“Uh, yeah, me too,” He stammered quietly. “Thanks. Good luck with studying”

She hums.

“Goodnight, Okkotsu. Thanks for keeping me company”

The call ends there, and Yuuta smiles to himself as he sets his phone down and finds the energy to finish up his pointless report.

Talking with her had been nice. Maybe they hadn’t become the closest of friends between him enrolling at Jujutsu Tech and being shipped off to Africa, but he thinks that could- and should- change.

He’d have to make more of an effort to get closer to her while he was away.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When (y/n) calls again, it’s not so late this time.

Yuuta had just settled in the hotel lobby with his burrito for lunch, his only plan for the time being was to scroll aimlessly on his phone while he ate. To his luck, just as he sat down on the stiff cushioned chair in the lobby, his phone rang.

“Okkotsu!”

It had been a little over a week since their last call, and Yuuta had done his best to keep in touch with her since then. A few photos of the wildlife native to the area that she seemed to enjoy, or a pretty sunrise here or there. There were a lot of messages sent to her first thing in the morning, beautiful photos tagged with his complaints of being up so early. It was the easiest time to use his phone, and he’d tried to make a habit of at least messaging her once a day.

To his delight, she always sent him a response. It wasn’t always right away, with an eight hour time difference that was a steep ask, but she never failed to let him know that she saw his message and appreciated it somehow. Whether it was an emoji reaction or a full text, she never left a text from him unanswered. Strangely, Yuuta found this to be thoughtful of her.

“I’m cooking, can you believe it!?” She sounds excited, but the kind of excited that seems like something very wrong is about to happen.

“O-oh?” He stutters, chucking as he tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder so he could unwrap his burrito. “What, are you not allowed, or something?”

“Hush, I don’t let anyone tell me what to do,” She laughs at his comment, not realizing he wasn’t joking. “I just haven’t cooked for myself properly since moving away from home. The kitchen here is puny, though,” She mutters the last part.

The muffled sounds coming through the speaker sound as though she’s rummaging around the cabinets. Yuuta tilts his phone away from his ear a little, the dishware clanking together more unpleasant than usual coming through a phone.

“But I thought it’d be nice to make a home cooked dinner. I was going to make some for everyone, but I guess they already ate. So it’s dinner for one tonight,” She explains. Yuuta’s chest sinks with disappointment at the thought of missing quality time with his friends. “Anyways, what’re you up to?”

“Eating a burrito,” He replies dryly. “What are you making? I’d much rather have that”

“Don’t speak too soon, it’s been a while since I’ve been in a kitchen,”

(y/n) laughs, and Yuuta does too.

“Just ramen,” She answers. “Figured it’s best to start out simple. Also figured I couldn’t set anything on fire”

“Depends on how you look at it. Setting something on fire while only cooking ramen might be an accomplishment, with how difficult it must be”

He doesn’t mean to be funny, but (y/n’s) laughing again, and Yuuta smiles through a mouthful of burrito for saying something clever enough. Pride swells in his chest the longer he hears her laughter turn to muted giggles while she’s pittering about the kitchen.

“You’re eating, should I let you go?” She asks once her laughter has calmed down.

“No, it’s alright,” Yuuta shakes his head even though he knows she can’t see. “I’m bored anyways. I was just going to sit here by myself and eat this burrito”

She laughs again, lightly this time.

“Alright, then, want me to tell you about how hard Maki kicked my ass in training yesterday?” She offers.

He’d already had an inkling, recalling a harshly worded text from her followed by a photo of her left leg covered in blue and purple marks that were bound to grow dark soon. He’d cringed when he’d seen it, giving the image a frowning emoji reaction before responding with, ‘Maki?’. But he happily agrees to have her tell him the rest of the story behind the bruises.

He deems (y/n) and Maki to hold a far closer friendship than he did himself, so he knew that the next five minutes of ranting on her part is in good nature and she was only annoyed with losing, not necessarily with Maki herself. That said, as someone who had dealt with the torture of training with her, Yuuta understood the feeling quite well. He laughs when she talks about being thrown to the ground like a ragdoll, and he winces when she tells him about the absolute beatdown she’d taken.

It’s a gruesome retelling, even though at times she talks as if it was as casual a part of her day as brushing her teeth had been. The life of a jujutsu sorcerer was always an unorthodox one.

“She didn’t even try to go easy on me, Okkotsu. But, she did get me an ice cream sandwich with my ice pack, so she’s still my best friend, I guess” She’s only teasing, evident in the way she giggles.

“Yuuta” He says without thinking, having happened to swallow the last of his food and finally getting a chance to speak.

“Hm- what?”

“You can just call me Yuuta” He clarifies, eyes darting around the lobby to be sure no one could see him blushing.

His voice grows quieter as he suddenly feels bashful in the public setting. None of the people passing in and out of the space pay him a second glance, and it doesn’t dawn on him that they might not even understand his language, but his body language says enough. He’s tucked into the corner chair, hunched over and holding the phone as close to his face as possible so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice too much. Not to mention, his face was turning a rosy shade of pink.

“Alright, Yuuta,” (y/n) muses, testing the waters to see how his name sounded. It felt foreign, and it had the color in Yuuta’s face darkening even faster, but she seemed amused by the change. “Ramen’s coming along pretty well, I think it’ll actually be edible!”

She’s quick to move on from the semi-serious topic. He’s relieved for this, and does his best to come across as casual as possible. He asks her about the recipe, and she talks to him for a while about her process until the conversation somehow turns back on him and he’s updating her about Morocco.

Time passes so easily, Yuuta barely realizes that he’s been sitting in the lobby for an hour, not thinking about how she had finished her dinner and eaten it too. (y/n) never mentions the time either, unknown to him, sitting on the counter in the common room’s kitchenette as she talks aimlessly about anything and everything she can think of. Yuuta enjoys hearing about it all, the shenanigans that she’s been up to with Toge, the odd style of teaching that Gojo has, even just the simple things, like how yesterday it had rained.

There’s something magical about being on the phone with her, he realizes halfway into hearing about how she’d gone outside to help the worms back into the grass after the rainfall. Not only does he lose time, but there’s not a dull moment. Most of his days had become so bland and boring they’d started to blend together. Besides the occasional sword training, he’d spent the majority of his time wandering about with Miguel. It was starting to feel aimless, with every passing day that they came up empty handed.

Talking with her was everything but boring, never boring. It finally felt like he had some company to get him through this assignment. He hoped that this second call meant they could make more of a habit out of it.

“I should probably go so I can clean up the kitchen,” She sighs when she finally suggests getting off the phone. It’s then, and only then, that Yuuta checks the time, quickly pulling his phone away to tap the screen before putting it up to his ear again. “I think it’d be obnoxious for me to stay on the phone while I do the dishes” She adds with a chuckle.

His heart spikes at the idea of her wanting to keep talking, though.

“Y-yeah, that might be too loud,” He replies. “But that’s okay, I should probably get some training in, or something, anyways”

“Gotta keep up that Special Grade status,” (y/n) teases. He’s grateful she can’t see him fluster every time she teases him, no matter how lighthearted it is. He’s not sure why it sends him into a mini panic every time, but he hopes he gets a hang of himself soon, if they’re going to keep talking like this. “Talk soon, though?”

He’d really have to learn to get a hold of himself. The short question has him beaming and nodding his head wildly, although the only people to see it are the hotel staff at the check-in desk who’d been peeking glances at the weird talkative boy on his phone for the last two hours.

Yuuta clears his throat before speaking, hoping to sound as normal as possible.

“Yeah, yeah we can talk again soon”

He’s not sure how well he does.

“Okay, cool,” The smile is evident in her tone, and in turn has Yuuta smiling too. “Talk to you later then, Yuuta”

Maybe he was just hopeless, but hearing his name again has him blushing and fidgeting in his seat.

“Bye, (y/n)”

Even once the call has ended and his phone is sitting lifeless in his lap, with the rush of adrenaline Yuuta gets, one might think he’d just received the best news of his life. Funnily enough, he hadn’t received much news at all- besides the fact that the worms on Jujutsu Tech Tokyo’s property were safe and accounted for after a life threatening sprinkle- so his giddiness was solely brought on by talking with her.

Slowly but surely, she was becoming his favorite person to talk to.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[y/n]: need ur help, it’s urgent [y/n]: ok woah i should not have said it like that

[yuuta]: ??? are you ok???

[y/n]: need u to help me win a bet

[yuuta]: ._. [yuuta]: ok.

[y/n]: vanilla oreos suck, right?

[yuuta]: this was urgent?

[y/n]: panda said they’re his favorite flavor.

[yuuta]: oh god. [yuuta]: he needs a wellness check for sure.

[y/n]: THANK YOU [y/n]: toge said his fav were the birthday cake ones but the vanilla weren’t bad. he’s still got the taste of a toddler, but at least they’re not his FAVORITE i mean cmon. vanilla is just bad. [y/n]: i knew you’d understand me.

[yuuta]: ur right this was urgent. i thought i knew them. [yuuta]: what are your favorite?

[y/n]: obviously i told them original.

[yuuta]: … implying they’re not actually your favorite?

[y/n]: you’re asking very personal questions, yuuta

[yuuta]: lmfao [yuuta]: i’ll tell u mine if u tell me urs :)

[y/n]: u first i’m shy :)

[yuuta]: original are good. but i like the toffee ones best

[y/n]: interesting.

[yuuta]: so am i getting judged for my oreo preference, too?

[y/n]: lol no. ur safe. for now ;)

[yuuta]: well we had a deal. what’s ur fav?

[y/n]: … i like the lemon ones

[yuuta]: :o [yuuta]: don’t those come with a VANILLA cookie???

[y/n]: … [y/n]: maybe.

[yuuta]: ur ridiculous

[y/n]: but the lemon flavor makes it different. it’s not PLAIN vanilla.

[yuuta]: can’t argue with u there

[y/n]: ya bcuz u wouldn’t dare :)

[yuuta]: no i wouldn’t :)

[y/n]: mwahaha i have the big scary special grade afraid of me :)

[yuuta]: idk about big. and the scary is all rika

[y/n]: does she have a take on the great oreo flavor debate? <3

[yuuta]: … [yuuta]: she always preferred animal crackers.

[y/n]: <;/3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Yuuta finally works up the courage to call her first, it’s been a couple weeks.

Which in hindsight, it feels like too much time has passed. Even though they’ve been texting every single day nearly nonstop. Yuuta had grown so attached to his phone it was almost becoming a problem.

Not that he’d admit it.

“Okkotsu Yuuta!” She picks up the phone with the same eagerness she’d held the last time she’d called him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was bored, and was hoping you had something interesting going on,” He sighed, falling backwards on the perfectly made bed in his room. Too perfect. It was always annoying to tug the covers out of their tightly tucked corners to comfortably sleep at night. “All I’ve been doing is train and I’m exhausted” He grumbles.

(y/n) hums through the speaker.

“Well if you’re that bored, I suppose I could tell you about a boy conflict of mine,” She suggests.

Just as Yuuta was starting to relax into the mattress, he felt his spine go stiff as a chill shot from his tailbone all the way up to his neck. It feels like his entire body has been drenched in icy water, freezing him solid.

“It’s okay if that’s too… weird, though” He’s drawn back to reality by (y/n’s) nervous laugh, something he doesn’t hear all that often. It’s strained and awkward, displaying every bit of anxious emotion that she felt.

“It’s not weird,” Yuuta’s not usually very good at lying, people always have a way of seeing right through him. He wonders if he’s only decent at telling this one because she’s not physically here. She can’t see the way his face contorts as it tries to stay neutral, or how his fingers start to tap against the comforter beneath him. “Boy conflict is… normal” He adds.

He’d meant that one, but she laughs anyway.

“I guess so,” She sighs through the speaker. “But I’ve never really had any before. Not like you get to meet a lot of people. But… I guess I met someone..?”

Yuuta’s gut twists, and he wonders if he ate something bad with his lunch. Maybe the chicken was undercooked? No, it seemed fine. He probably just ate too fast.

“That feels less like conflict and more like interest” His jaw feels tight when he talks. With his free hand, he rubs at it and tries to keep his teeth from clenching.

“Well, I am interested,”

Distantly, Yuuta thinks he should swallow some tums before he goes to bed so this stomach ache won’t keep him up all night.

“At least, I think I am,” (y/n) sighs again. “He’s not a sorcerer, I met him at a corner store I went to with Maki,” She explains. “He was cute and all, I guess we had a moment over the energy drinks? It’s kind of a blur, I didn’t really pay attention until he was handing me his number and now I have this number and- I don’t know. Is that weird?”

Yuuta’s not really sure what to tell her. He’s not really sure how he feels about it. His gut tells him that yes, it is weird, and she shouldn’t be going out with some guy she met at a convenience store. Anyone can walk into one of those, he thinks bitterly, his brow furrowed as he thought over her dilemma.

“Well, um, did he seem… nice?”

The question comes out pathetic. Yuuta’s smacking his hand over his face from how stupid he sounds, and feels.

“Yeah, I guess” (y/n) answers anyways.

“Then I guess ball’s in your court?” The suggestion comes out more as a question than he means it to. Yuuta thinks he wasn’t equipped for this, and maybe he should have told her it was a weird thing for them to talk about.

But he wouldn’t have meant that. He would talk to her about anything, and he wanted her to feel the same. He wanted her to talk about anything and everything she wanted. Lord knows he’d take an interest in it.

However the interest he has in this conversation isn’t quite like normal. His curiosity is less genuine. It feels like it’s lurching around in his mind, something disappointed yet irritable growing in it’s place. He hates the feeling. He hates feeling that way towards her. Even if it wasn’t directed at her specifically.

“You’re right,” There’s more determination in her voice now. “I should just text him, right?”

No, Yuuta’s jaw is clenched again, teeth grinding loudly. He hopes she can’t hear it through the phone. No, don’t let some stranger have your number. He doesn’t deserve it like I do.

“Right!” His voice is louder than he means to, as if trying to overpower the jealous train of thought that runs through his mind.

He’s sitting upright on the bed in a second, still rigid and uncomfortable, but his anxiety makes him want to pace. He needs to work off the awkward feeling in his chest somehow.

“Then I can see what he’s like,” (y/n) speaks as though she’s really telling herself what made the most sense. Yuuta’s nodding wordlessly, his eyes fixated on a spot on the floor that’s growing more blurry by the second. “And then if I like him… maybe we can go out or something” She mumbles the last part, clearly distracted.

He wonders if she’s texting him now. The idea of her reaching out to this random guy while she’s on the phone with him sends his heart plummeting to his already upset stomach.

Where were all of these nasty feelings coming from?

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea” Yuuta’s speaking, but it feels distant, he’s not exactly sure of what he’s saying.

“Alright. I’ll text him later, then,”

He’s relieved that she wasn’t doing it this very moment, but there was still an unsettling pit in his stomach knowing she was bound to reach out at some point.

“Thanks, Yuuta. So, what’s been going on with you?”

It takes a while of chatting and pacing the room before Yuuta feels like himself again. He’s lucky there wasn’t a circle burned in the shape of his track in the tightly coiled carpeting of his room, certainly he would’ve had to call Gojo for a favor if he was billed for such damage.

Eventually the nasty feeling in his chest settles and he’s sitting in the bed again, the notebook he was drafting up today’s report on propped on his legs and his phone at his side, (y/n’s) voice on speaker as she tells him about the rest of her and Maki’s outing in the shopping district.

As it always does, time goes by too quickly, and soon enough she’s yawning through the speaker and telling him it was getting too late for her.

“But thanks for calling, Yuuta. I was starting to think you didn’t know phones worked both ways” She teases softly.

Had she been waiting for him to call?

“Yeah, anytime. I just… you know the time difference… I don’t ever want to bother you”

“You? Bother me?” She giggles. “After you let me talk your ear off about a boy, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here,” She tells him.

The nasty feeling swells again.

“Besides, you could never bother me,” She adds, her tone much softer. Almost sweet. Yuuta can’t tell if his stomach is convulsing or doing flips. “But call again sometime, m’kay?”

“Okay,” He says, hopeful, and just as eager as he felt. “G’night, (y/n)”

“Bye Yuuta, goodnight!”

His phone lights up with the low battery icon once the call is over. He’s slow to plug the charger into it and leave it on his nightstand for the evening, his mind still mulling over everything she’d told him. Or more so, how he’d felt taking in all that information.

He couldn’t have possibly been jealous, right? Not over some random guy. Not because of her. They were friends, after all. Friends that didn’t even get that close until after he left. In his time at Jujutsu Tech he’d only spoken to her a handful of times, and mostly in passing. It wouldn’t feel right to have something like jealousy spark up now. No, he was probably just worried for her, seeing as he couldn’t look out for her when he’s thousands of miles away. Yeah, that was it.

It couldn’t have anything to do with the way he felt his world light up when she laughed. Or that getting a text message from her in the sound effect that he’d picked out just for her contact had serotonin spiking in his brain.

None of those things were connected at all.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The fourth time they talk on the phone, unfortunately, he has to hear about this guy again.

Yuuta’s not even sure he knows his name. He thinks (y/n) must’ve mentioned it once or twice in their texts, but it’s never quite stuck, and honestly, Yuuta doesn’t want to ask.

Not that he cares- it wasn’t like that at all. It had simply been too long for it to feel appropriate to ask. He didn’t want her to think he didn’t listen, is all.

He’d called one evening when yet again he felt like putting off writing up his report. It had almost become a habit to reach out to her as soon as he was stalling, or bored. He didn’t have much to talk about, he never really did, but he had been eager to tell her about some new cuisine he’d tried that he’d thought she might like.

There was a pesky thought in the back of his mind about her visiting him for a few days. Only pesky due to how often it presented itself, even when he should’ve been focused on more pressing matters. He knew it was bad when Miguel had taken notice and smacked him upside the head to get him to pay attention- on this earth, preferably, he’d said.

But he couldn’t help it. The idea of having her here, for a few days or a few weeks, had become his go-to daydream. He already knew everything he’d want to show her, the busy, colorful markets and the good food Yuuta hadn’t known existed until coming here. To how pretty the beaches were at sunset, especially when the little hermit crabs would wake up and wander around the shore, he thinks she’d like that a lot.

Even just the idea of having her around to hang out with and chat about anything and nothing, just like how they do through their phones, had his chest buzzing with warmth and excitement. Even though it was all in his head and logic told him she probably couldn’t make such a trip. She had her own assignments and lessons after all, and technically he was supposed to be working.

Nonetheless, when he found himself getting bored, his mind drifted off to pretending she was there with him to keep him company. Sometimes it even did the trick.

Tonight when he calls her, he’s kicking around the idea of bringing it up. Maybe if she took it well enough he could reach out to Gojo about it, surely he had the social standing and the funds to let her visit. His heart is thrumming in his chest just thinking about it, every ring of the dial tone putting him further on the edge of his seat.

It rings a total of five times before she finally answers. It’s not all that late in Tokyo, just half past nine, but suddenly Yuuta worries that this wasn’t a good time to call.

“Hey,” He’s the first to speak, grinning from ear to ear when the line finally clicks and she’s answered the call. “Is this a bad time?”

“Uh, n-no,” She stutters back, voice quiet and a little raspier than usual. Had she been sleeping? She speaks before he can double check if it was an okay time to talk. “I’m not doing anything. What’s up?”

Yuuta can’t quite put his finger on it, but it certainly sounds like it’s a bad time. Her voice is lacking it’s usual mirth, and she sounds like she’s purposefully trying not to raise her voice. His smile begins to fall as his brain starts to stir with worry.

“Nothing, really. Just… wanted to talk, I guess,” It feels a little embarrassing to admit, but for once, she’s not teasing him. It’s strange, not hearing her softly poke fun at him when he’d clearly given her an opening to do so. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s almost ten here, I’m in bed”

The words almost come out cold, a bitterness to them that Yuuta wasn’t used to. If it weren’t for the crack in her voice, he might’ve thought she was upset with him. But there’s a noticeable little hitch in the middle of her words that tells him it’s not annoyance he’s picking up on.

“Hey,” His voice is quiet as he sits on his bed, brows furrowing as he feels the mood shift even in a room thousands of miles away from hers. “Is something wrong?”

“No” Comes her instant answer, but it’s not remotely believable. Her voice is so quiet and muffled it barely comes through the speaker, and shortly after he hears a shuffling that sounds like a heap of blankets being tossed around.

“C’mon, wanna talk about it?” He pressed again, dragging his finger over the crisp comforter on the bed to create misshapen invisible designs. “What happened, (y/n)?” He asks again, voice softer than before.

The tiniest of sniffles could be heard, and his heart sinks at the idea of her sitting alone in bed and crying. Whatever caused it he was sure he could find a way to solve it. It wasn’t often that Yuuta felt cocky with his Special Grade status, but in this moment he was sure he was the most powerful person in the world, and if something had bothered her this much, he’d certainly be able to take care of it.

“It’s- it’s stupid,” The high pitch in the cracking of her voice was more evident the louder she spoke. He’s worried she was going to leave it at that, maybe tell him to leave her alone or hang up altogether. Then he hears a wobbly inhale before she’s whimpering through her words again. “I’m so stupid, Yuuta, what was I thinking?”

His heart cracks with every word she speaks. He’s not sure what put her in such pain, but he swears, he’s experiencing it too just knowing she was hurting. He places his free hand over his chest to ease the hollow feeling that carves itself there.

“What d’ya mean? You’re not stupid, not remotely. C’mon, y’know that,” He tries to keep his voice light and gentle, even though the growing put in his stomach had his throat closing up. “What happened? Talk to me” He pleads softly.

(y/n) sniffles, before trying to even out her breathing again so she didn’t sound so pathetic when she talked.

“I don’t even want to tell you, it’s so stupid,” She admits. “B-but everyone else is busy, o-or gone and I- I don’t want to cry about it anymore,”

Had she been crying for a while? His heart seizes at the thought.

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” She mumbles. Yuuta nodded his head rapidly in response.

“Yeah, yeah of course I promise. I won’t laugh at you” He tells her with grave sincerity.

She sighs, breath still shaky, but she does her best to talk through it.

In a wobbly, quiet voice, she tells him everything. About how she had plans to meet up with convenience-store-guy that Yuuta still hadn’t caught the name of. How she’d taken plenty of time to plan out her outfit and put herself together, how in the meantime he’d been nothing short of flirtatious and sweet, leading her to believe he’d been eager to go out with her. She tells him how an hour before they were set to meet up a block away from campus, she’d stopped hearing from him altogether. She laughs humorlessly as she explains she’d sent nearly ten messages asking where he was or if he needed to reschedule before she’d dropped it completely and walked herself back home.

“No text, no call. Absolutely n-nothing,” She mutters bitterly. “But I don’t g-get it, did I do something wr-wrong?”

“Of course not,” Yuuta sighed, trying to release the tension of his building irritation so he could keep his focus on comforting her. “He’s just… he’s stupid, okay? I don’t know what his deal is, but you dodged a bullet, for sure. If that’s how he acts before a first date, imagine how terrible he would’ve been by the twentieth”

Surprisingly, he’s not terrible when it comes to consoling her. (y/n) hums tiredly in agreement. It doesn’t necessarily take the pain away, but there is some relief in knowing it never would have worked out.

“Yeah,” She breathes out. “But… I was excited, you know?” She mumbles. “I’ve never been on a real date before, at least I don’t think I have, but I think I’d know,” She explains. “I just… I thought I’d feel normal for a night. I- I thought he liked me. I kinda liked him, too. But mostly I…” She trails off, and they both remain silent for a few beats, each processing their own mess of thoughts. “I liked the idea of being liked, I guess. Is that selfish?”

“Of course not,” Yuuta chuckles warmly. “Everyone wants that. It’s completely normal,” He says. “Besides, it’s not like you were imagining things. He did have an interest. Who wouldn’t?”

The last part comes out before he can realize what he’s actually saying, and his face grows hot with the insinuation of his words. He’s stammering to fix it, which doesn’t help him much, but he tries.

“W-what I mean is that there will be plenty of other people who will meet you and fall for you completely and y-you’ll be swarmed with phone numbers and people who like you!”

He doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but his nerves are starting to take over as the word vomit continues. (y/n’s) quiet as she listens intently, and the longer she doesn’t speak up to stop him, the worse his rambling becomes.

“You’ll have to fight ‘em all off, you know? There’s so many people out there who haven’t been lucky enough to meet you yet, and when they do you’ll get to experience everything you want. You know what?”

There’s a soft ‘what?’ from her end before he continues on his rant.

“It’s a good thing your first date wasn’t with that prick anyways. It wouldn’t have been fair. It wouldn’t have been right at all if your first date was boring or shitty or- or anything short of special and electric, okay?”

(y/n) still doesn’t say anything, but she’s hanging onto every word he says, even when they’re rushed and he’s stumbling over them, all of her focus is on what he’s saying.

“Because you deserve it. And anyone who is remotely worth your time will know that. And they’ll- they’ll text you too much before you finally go out, because they’ll be nervous because you make them nervous because you’ll be so out of their league, you know?” He doesn’t even pause before continuing. “And they’ll pick you up on time if not early because they’ll respect your time, and they’ll have flowers- the prettiest, most expensive bouquet they could find- right? A bouquet even Gojo couldn’t afford,”

She lets out a watery laugh that has Yuuta easing up in his rambling, a warm feeling planting in his chest in the hopes she’d smiled, even just a little bit, even if it was through her tears, he’d provoked just a little bit of joy from her.

“And… and if you’re anything short of completely swept away, then you’ll call Maki and she’ll come get you so you don’t have to spend another second wasting your time with a loser that doesn’t deserve you”

His chest is heaving a bit when he finally stops, not realizing he was losing his breath the longer he rambled on. His face feels hot as he processes everything he’d just dumped on her, and he prays that it wasn’t as pathetic as he’s worrying it was.

There’s a few small sniffles before (y/n) speaks up.

“Well, if you were back home, I’d just call you,” She says softly. Her voice doesn’t sound as strained as before, and Yuuta hopes it means she’d stopped crying. “You really think I’ll be able to find all that?”

“Yeah, ‘course I do,” He mumbles back, although his words hold absolute certainty. “Not a doubt in my mind”

She giggles, a real little laugh that he can almost see. It’s short and sweet and it has him elated that he’d lightened her mood. He’s not sure what exactly he did, but he’s grateful that the word vomit was beneficial for once.

“Thank you, Yuuta,” She murmurs. “You’re right, and, I actually feel a little better,”

His heart soars, and he’s smiling to himself again with pride and relief.

“I’m still going to watch Pride and Prejudice before bed, though. I’d already committed to it and I can’t just go to sleep now” She tells him seriously. Yuuta laughs, falling back on his bed as comfortably as he could with his feet still planted on the ground.

“I’ve never seen it,” He tells her. “But don’t stay up too-”

“Never?” She interrupts with a gasp of shock. “Yuuta, that’s criminal”

He chuckles again. “Is it really?”

“Yes, very much so,” She tells him. “When you’re back we have to watch it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure-”

“No, promise” She demanded for the second time that night.

“I promise,” He repeats, smiling to himself as his gaze wanders the ceiling.

He couldn’t help but think that if she were to visit him, they could spend a whole afternoon here in this room watching her movie, probably eating snacks and making a mess of the place as they got cozy for it. This room had always remained perfectly tidy, so much so it was almost boring. Having her in it would surely brighten it up and give it some life, he thinks.

“We’ll watch it as soon as I’m back” He tells her.

“Okay. Good. You were on thin ice for a second, you know” She murmurs sleepily. He can hear her yawning.

“Was I?” He muses. “Is that what it takes to get you to hang up on me?”

“Are you suggesting I wouldn’t?” She quips back, and he’s glad that her teasing nature has come around again.

“I’m suggesting you never have before” Yuuta shrugs. His fingers are pressed firmly against the back of his phone, keeping it close to his ear so he couldn’t miss the way she laughed at him.

“Yeah, well, maybe you’re just good company,” She hums. “But it is late and I want to watch this movie, so I guess there’s a first for everything”

His face is warm and he feels full, like he’d just eaten a good meal, despite him having skipped lunch in order to call her. Yuuta smiles lazily at the blank ceiling as he hums back to her.

“Alright, enjoy your movie,” He says. “But, uh, you can call me again. Y’know, if you… need to. Or want to”

There’s a pause before she responds.

“Okay,” It comes out in a hushed whisper. “Have a good rest of your day, Yuuta”

The time difference has his lips pinching into a frown, but he quickly tries to hold onto the last few seconds of joy he has while talking to her.

“Goodnight, (y/n)”

The call ends, and he drops his phone to the mattress, letting it sit forgotten beside his head. He stays put in his semi-comfortable position, still staring at the ceiling as his hands fall to his sides. His chest felt tight, and his mind a little dazed as he replayed the call over and over in his mind. The hurt he’d felt when she was hurting, the relief he’d felt when she was happy. It was overwhelming, the way his own emotions were thrown through the wringer depending on hers.

His heart was hammering in his chest so hard, Yuuta knew he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.

He was falling for her. Fast, and hard.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[yuuta]: [attachment]: one image [yuuta]: i think you’d like these little guys

[y/n]: :D a hermit crab!!! [y/n]: so cute! can’t believe ur holding it, i’d be scared of getting pinched

[yuuta]: i’m special grade, i’m not scared of anything :)

[y/n]: getting real comfy with throwing that title around, huh? you must think so low of me, a mere second grade. i could never amount to the *mighty* okkotsu yuuta.

[yuuta]: lol shut up it’s just a crab

[y/n]: he is super cute. his name is yuu now :)

[yuuta]: bcuz u miss me so much? :)

[y/n]: bcuz he’s small and feisty. that little claw looks ready to attack :>

[yuuta]: ok i’ll admit he did pinch me once. [yuuta]: but in his defense i did pick him up and i am a big scary human

[y/n]: lmfao [y/n]: i thought we just established ur small and feisty

[yuuta]: i don’t think i like being called small

[y/n]: tiny [y/n]: smol [y/n]: just a baby

[yuuta]: are we still talking abt the crab??

[y/n]: and maybe a little cute [y/n]: if we’re still talking about similarities :)

[yuuta]: cute???????

[y/n]: when u first came to jujutsu tech u were kinda like a hermit crab LMFAO [y/n]: i think if u had a shell u would’ve lived in it for WEEKS XD

[yuuta]: ._.

[y/n]: :)

[yuuta]: ur being a menace today [yuuta]: more than usual

[y/n]: it’s bcuz gojo’s lesson plan so far has been fighting the air :/ idk how he’s a teacher. i’m definitely not learning anything [y/n]: except that i might be able to take him in a fight without cursed energy

[yuuta]: my money is on u :) [yuuta]: but also i’ll be there with ice cream when u get ur ass kicked

[y/n]: <;/3[y/n]: that’s my broken heart[y/n]: you’ve broken my heart.

[yuuta]: lol [yuuta]: but there will be ice cream [yuuta]: <3

[y/n]: … [y/n]: ok i might forgive u

[yuuta]: is it bcuz i’m cute [yuuta]: :)) [yuuta]: ?? (y/n) ?? [yuuta]: :(( [yuuta]: don’t ghost me ik ur not paying attention in class

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The tenth phone call they have, (y/n’s) the one calling him.

It’s one in the morning his time, so he’s sound asleep on the mattress that still feels stiff after about three months of him sleeping on it. Every day he longs more and more to go back home to his cozy room and his friends and her.

When his ringtone blares, a pretty tune that’s suddenly the most obnoxious sound on the planet, he’s awake right away. Jolting from his slumber and reaching around blindly in search of the device. He nearly shoves everything on his bedside table right off, his arm swinging with too much force in his desperate attempt to pick up the phone.

Even once it’s in his hand, it takes him a second to steadily press the accept button, his vision blurry and sleep still threatening to take back over. It takes him a few tries before he’s answering the call and laying the phone on his pillow next to his head.

“Hello?” He rasps out.

“Yuuta!” (y/n’s) all too cheery for one in the morning, but he distantly remembers it’s the early evening in Tokyo. His eyes squeeze shut as he rubs at them tiredly. “Yuuta! How could you not tell me the good news!?”

She’s yelling, and even without his phone on speaker he hears her perfectly fine just having the device laying next to his head. It’s a shock to his ears, his mind buzzing as it tries to wake him up to deal with the noise. But he snuggles deeper into his pillow, rolling onto his side to press his face into the feathery plushness.

“-was gonna wait,” He mumbles sleepily. “Y’know, ‘til I was awake, ‘nd it was a normal time” His words are followed by a low chuckle. The pillow suddenly becomes the comfiest thing he’s ever touched, and even the stiff mattress becomes a little more inviting.

“Wait?” She repeats the word before gasping dramatically. “Okkotsu Yuuta, I had to hear you were coming back from Toge!”

He chuckles again at her antics. He’s still exhausted, but his chest feels warm hearing the excitement in her voice.

“Do you know how long it took him to tell me? Hm? He did charades, Yuuta. Charades!” The image has him laughing a little more, shoulders shaking just a little bit as he listens to her go on. “I’m terrible at charades by the way. The whole thing took, like, fifteen minutes. I was pissed he couldn’t just write it down”

“Toge’s jus’ like that” He mumbles.

“But you told him before me?”

Yuuta’s not sure if the offense in her tone is fake or not. To play it safe, he covers his tracks.

“No,” He sighs. “Gojo pr’lly told him. He only just told me before I went to bed”

“And you didn’t even text,” (y/n) huffs, but he can hear the laugh she’s trying to hold back. He smiles in relief knowing she was just sticking to her bit. “Well you better actually text me as soon as you’re back!” She says threateningly. “We have plans. You promised”

“How could I forget?” He hums, voice low and growing quieter as his body beckons him to fall back to sleep.

“Okay. Good,” She says definitively. “I guess I’ll let you go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you up”

He hums in amusement.

“Don’t be sorry for being so excited to see me you couldn’t contain it,” He teases quietly. (y/n’s) silent on the other end of the line. “And don’t be embarrassed, either” He adds.

“I’m not embarrassed!” She squeaks, making him chuckle some more. Maybe he was just deprived of his sleep, but she was extra cute when he was the one doing the teasing. “But I… I am excited to see you”

He smiles into his pillow, sighing contentedly into it.

“I know sweetheart,” He mumbles. “And ‘m excited to see you too”

She’s failing to stifle a giggle through the speaker.

“Okay okay, you’re clearly wiped. I’ll let you go,” She says. “Goodnight, Yuuta”

“Night, (y/n)”

He’s asleep before she even ends the call, drawn back into rest by the suddenly comfortable bedding and the sweet echo of her laughter playing in his mind.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

(y/n) had been adamant about having their movie night the same night he gets back to Tokyo. With the jet lag and the time difference keeping him awake against his wishes, she was sure that having a relaxed evening inside would be the best way to ease him back into being at home.

Yuuta, on the other hand, tried to make it clear that they didn’t have to rush into it. His flight would land at eleven in the evening, and he was sure he wouldn’t even be back to campus before midnight. While it might have felt like early afternoon to him, (y/n) would have already had a full day of lessons and training, and likely be exhausted by that time.

However she was stubborn. It didn’t matter how much he tried to persuade her otherwise, she remained certain that she would stay awake long enough to greet him and have a simple, fun night set up for them.

And who was he to fight too hard against it anyways? The idea of her going through the trouble and wanting to stay up so late just to see him gave him energy for the whole day. He was smiling through customs, bouncing his leg waiting to board, texting her as much as possible before he’d have to put his phone on airplane mode, and greeting every employee and flight attendant with so much delight it was infectious. He’d even gotten an extra package of goldfish for his delightful friendliness.

He’s as quick as can be picking up his checked luggage and rushing out of the airport. Anyone who saw might have thought he was late, but in actuality he was trying to be as early as possible. He’d practically crashed into Ijichi, almost racing past him, but just as quickly recognition flashed in his eyes and he gave the manager a bone crushing hug, forgetting his strength.

The man was alarmed by the affection, awkwardly patting the boy’s back before stepping out of the embrace and nervously laughing. He leads Yuuta out of the building and towards the sleek black car that’s waiting to take him home. Yuuta’s positively buzzing the whole ride. It’s obvious that Ijichi is tired, it’s almost the middle of the night after all, but he does find some amusement in Yuuta’s pure and unfiltered excitement.

However when the boy shouts for a pit stop at a local twenty-four hour grocery shop, the man almost drives the car right off the road, slamming on the brakes and pulling over roughly enough to wake him up completely. If Yuuta notices the harsh driving maneuvers, he doesn’t say anything. Simply grabbing his wallet and rushing inside the building. Ijichi swears all these kids pumped full of muscles and adrenaline would be the death of him.

Yuuta comes back with a full paper bag and a grin, thanking the manager as they continue the drive home without a hitch.

He shouldn’t have the energy he does when they arrive, but Ijichi watches in shock as Yuuta easily carries all of his bags and the delicate groceries and breaks into a full sprint for the dorms, hollering one last thank you as he does.

He’s unceremonious as he drops his things in his room. There is a certain comfort in being back in a space he can contently call his own, but the welcome home nap he was so eager to take in his own bed could wait. He leaves his things and is swept away by his own two feet as he hurries down the hall.

There’s the faintest of light peeking out under only one door, all the others tightly shut and seemingly dark inside. It was past midnight, and there were lessons first thing tomorrow morning. He’s hesitant for only a second as he reaches the door, but adrenaline takes over again and he’s knocking as quietly as he can.

He can barely hear someone inside, although he doesn’t make out any real words. Just to be safe, he knocks again.

“H’llo?” A tired voice calls back a little louder this time.

Yuuta’s hand is shaking when he reaches for the latch and slides the door open, just barely peeking inside.

He’d seen (y/n’s) room maybe once in passing, but he hadn’t taken a real glance, and definitely never stepped inside. Now, he takes it all in with his face lit up in pure astonishment.

It’s decorated with string lights, soft and twinkling slowly here and there. Just enough to give some ambience without it being overpowering. Her small television is flickering with the title screen of her adored movie. She’s curled up in a heap of blankets on the bed, and for a few seconds he thinks she’s asleep. But her head tiredly lifts to see who her visitor was, and like a switch, she’s full of energy.

“Yuuta!”

His name falls from her lips in soft awe, and she’s throwing her blankets back and sitting upright, shifting to get out of bed. Yuuta’s beaming back at her, stepping into the room and turning to slide the door shut behind him. The others would be quite annoyed if they were to be woken up at this hour.

She’s stumbling a bit towards him, her arms outstretched and her face in a lazy grin. It takes no time at all for her to cross the room and throw her arms around him to hug him tightly. Yuuta’s careful to hold his bag of goodies to the side so they don’t get crushed when he reciprocates the tight hug.

He hadn’t hugged her before he left for Africa. He hadn’t hugged anyone, actually. Just waved as he bid them goodbye. Hugging her now feels like something he’d waited for for ages, and finally getting to hold her against him has his heart soaring.

“You’re finally home,” She’s smiling into his chest, and pulls away only so she can grin up at him, properly taking in his pretty eyes and longer hair. She’s just about to comment on the change in style before she notices the bag in his hand, and focuses on it instead. “Did you bring gifts?” She asks with a playful smirk.

“Uh- yeah, I mean, sorta,” He stammers, his face getting warmer than he would’ve liked as he opens the bag and glances inside, suddenly apprehensive about handing them to her. “It’s not from Africa, but they are necessities,” He tells her.

(y/n) raises a brow curiously, before prompting him to show her what he brought.

Yuuta’s sheepish as he reaches in the bag and produces a family size package of lemon flavored oreos. It seemed like a great idea when he’d picked them up, but now he feels anxiety twisting in stomach as he presents them to her.

“Lemon oreos!” (y/n’s) nothing short of delighted as she takes the package from his hands, already peeling back the plastic to snatch one and take a bite right away. She hums as she finishes the cookie, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she seals the package again. “You remembered, thank you. We’ll definitely finish those tonight” She says with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I brought my own snack, they’re all yours” He says softly. She brightens even further at the prospect.

“You really know the way to a woman’s heart, Okkotsu” She teases.

After months of getting teased over the phone, he finally gets to witness it first hand. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes shift between his and other spots around the room bashfully. He wonders if she was always so shy when she’d teased him before.

His smile softens as he reaches into the bag again, carefully holding the other gift as he pulls it from the bag. (y/n’s) eyes widen and her lips part as she takes in the sight of the beautiful arrangement of flowers he was holding. It was simple, a pretty bouquet of lilies, lily of the valley, to be specific, she recognized them as the same white flowers scattered around the courtyard. Her eyes were locked on the bouquet as Yuuta picked around it a bit, making sure every flower was perfect and presentable.

“It’s not, uh, the most expensive bouquet in the world,” He mumbles anxiously once he deems the flowers pretty enough to hand to her.

She looks up at him as though silently asking if they were really for her, her surprise evident in the way she stared at him in soft surprise before she finally took the flowers. Her movements are slow and so, so careful, not wanting to bend a single stem out of place.

“But, still, um,” With his hands free Yuuta begins to fiddle, scratching at the nape of his neck as he struggles to meet her gaze. “Y’know, I just wanted to… give you flowers”

A smile breaks out across her face as she leans close to them to take in a whiff, soothed by the gentle, clean scent that fills her nose.

“I love them,” She murmurs, still staring in awe at the pretty arrangement. “Can I take a picture?” She asks, and he nods wordlessly. He finally takes in a breath of air when she turns around to grab her phone from the bed, not having realized he’d been holding it since handing her the intimate gift.

What he doesn’t realize is she’s bounding back over to him with her phone in hand, the camera flipped around so she can take a selfie of her flowers with him very much in it.

“C’mon, smile!” She giggles as she turns her phone sideways, eyeing the image of him with his blushing face and wide eyes, obviously caught off guard.

She snaps the photo when he throws up a peace sign and gives the most relaxed smile he can, his eyes closed and his cheeks undeniably pink. (y/n) admires it before tucking her phone back into her pocket and clutching the flowers close to her chest lovingly.

“Thank you so much,” She gives them one last affectionate glance before tucking them carefully into a jar on her desk- after she dumped all the pens in it onto her workspace without a second thought. Yuuta almost laughed at how quickly she made the mess and left it in order for the bouquet to have a safe home. Once she’s sure they’re safe and sound, she turns back to him again.

It’s funny how out of place he looks standing in her doorway. Long legs and broad shoulders taking up more space in her room than she would’ve thought. She’d almost forgotten how large Yuuta was. Somehow, it made it funnier that he looked so lost. Like he didn’t want to take a step, and didn’t know what to do with his hands. She could tell he was trying his best to come across as comfortable as he could, but she could see the wince behind his smile, and his slowly shifting feet.

He looks out of place now, but she likes having him here. She likes that he smells like sandalwood, and something sweet like vanilla. She likes that he’s still holding the paper bag that he’d brought her gift in, not wanting to drop it somewhere in her room like a piece of litter. She likes that when their eyes meet he smiles, and crinkles form on his eyes that compliment his blushing face.

She likes everything about Yuuta, but right now, she likes that he was the first boy to ever bring her flowers most of all.

So despite her racing heart, she decides to tell him so.

“I’m glad you were the first guy to ever give me flowers”

Yuuta’s smile drops slightly as his face softens with surprise, eyebrows raising higher when she steps even closer to him.

He’s holding his breath again when she leans onto the tips of her toes and pressing a quick kiss to his warm cheek. The feeling of her lips brushing over his skin only makes it heat up more, and against his will he lets out a little gasp for air. (y/n) giggles when she stands flat on her feet again, her nose slightly wrinkled at her amusement at how easily Yuuta flusters.

She’s starting to think to herself that she should test just how much she can fluster him while he’s here, when he’s suddenly the one taking her breath away.

He steps forward to close the distance between them again, dropping the paper bag so he can slide his hands under her jaw, tilting it upwards so he can lean down and kiss her with ease. A gasp dies in the back of her throat just as his lips touch hers, the hesitation from her surprise only momentary.

For a soft kiss, Yuuta radiates so much passion her knees feel weak, and her hands are firm as they press into his shoulders, desperate to keep herself upright. Even his hands are gentle, their touch warm and featherlight against her face.

She longs to press impossibly closer and explore his every last dip and crevice, but for right now, everything is perfect. His gentleness, his sweetness, him, she couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely first kiss.

Just as the kiss was, he pulls away slowly, forehead still touching hers. A short sigh escapes him before his lips turn into a smile. (y/n) watches as his mouth stretches and curls, her own face mirroring the expression, before her eyes flicker up to his to see he’s staring down at her.

“Sorry, I-” He shakes his head, trying to find just the right words to tell her how long he’d been thinking about doing that. His mind is too foggy so he runs his mouth with abandon. “I’ve just really wanted to do that” He murmurs.

(y/n) giggles, her face blooming with color at the blatant confession. It had her heart going haywire even more after the kiss, and any hopes of being the one to fluster him goes out the window. She’s putty in his hands and he must know it.

“Don’t be sorry,” She whispers back, shyly averting her gaze, not that it does her any favors, he’s still cradling her face and keeping her so close that it felt there was no shying away from him. “I… I was hoping to talk to you, um, when you got back,” She says, the grin on her face betraying her as she tried to casually mention her feelings for him. “About, y’know, hanging out more, ‘n stuff”

Yuuta chuckles at her bashful nonchalance, nodding his head back at her with an excited gleam in his eyes.

“I’d like to hang out more and stuff,” He hums, dropping his hands from her face and nodding to where she’d set up the movie hours earlier. “Should we start with watching your movie?”

Excitement flashes in her eyes as she nods her head back at him, before taking his hand and tugging him over to the comfort of her bed.

“Settle in, your mind is about to be blown by literary perfection and cinematic masterpiece. This is their love child”

He chuckles, falling into the mattress with her and getting settled against the mountain of pillows at her headboard while she searches her blankets for the remote. His chest is still vibrating with adrenaline, but as he sinks into a comfortable bed for the first time in months, he finds himself relaxing.

Despite his body feeling like it was the late afternoon, he feels as though he could go right to sleep.

It helps when (y/n) passes out first. Her body slumps against his and she snores softly against his chest. It’s such an amusing sight he can’t help but take a photo for her to wake up to in her messages. He pauses the movie so that they can pick it up from where they left off tomorrow, and then settles deeper into the cozy bed.

The comfort he felt with every text received from her, every phone call to keep him company in the last few months of being away and being alone, it seems almost personified now. Resting here beside her, simply sharing the same space, Yuuta feels the same wave of relief now. He can’t help but smile to himself as he settles under the covers, being careful to not disturb her peaceful slumber.

He’s asleep in a matter of minutes. The warmth of her body so close and the plush mattress working together to put his mind at such ease he didn’t even notice he was tired until he was closing his eyes and drifting off.

It was good to be home.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // i really do ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

a/n: gojo pays the international phone bills obviously so don't be commenting on it

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