#as you can see i’m not getting any better

[sxcretricciardo]

not the same

•

The sun is shining brightly over the go-karting track, a perfect day for racing. The smell of burning rubber, the distant hum of engines revving, and the lively chatter of parents fill the air. You stand beside Max, watching your little boy, Leo, zip around the track with a focused expression that’s eerily similar to Max’s when he's behind the wheel. Leo's been karting since he could walk, and every time he hits the track, it’s like watching a younger version of Max, pure talent and determination radiating from him.

Max is beaming, pride visible in his eyes as he watches Leo expertly navigate the course. His hand rests on the small of your back, and you lean into him, feeling the excitement of the race. But today isn’t just any day. Jos, Max’s father, has come to watch his grandson for the first time. It’s a big moment, both for Leo and for Max, who has a complicated history with his dad.

The final lap is underway, and Leo is in second place. You can see how hard he’s pushing, how badly he wants that win. His little hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly, his helmet bobbing as he leans into each curve. But the kid in first place has just a little more speed, and as they cross the finish line, Leo’s kart comes in second.

You’re about to cheer for Leo anyway—second place is still amazing for a four-year-old—but before you can, you notice the tension stiffening Max beside you. His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow. Jos is walking over to Leo’s kart, and you can feel the unease rolling off Max in waves.

Leo pulls off his helmet, his brown curls damp with sweat, and looks up at his grandfather, expecting praise or at least a smile. But Jos doesn’t offer either. Instead, his face is hard, disappointed.

“What happened out there?” Jos says, his voice low and sharp, just loud enough for Leo to hear.

Leo’s small face falls, his bright eyes clouding with confusion. He’s only four, too young to understand the weight behind the words, but he knows enough to feel the sting.

“I—I tried, Grandpa…” Leo stammers, looking down at his feet, his tiny hands fiddling nervously with his gloves. “I tried really hard…”

“You tried? That’s not good enough,” Jos snaps. “Your father wouldn’t settle for second place at your age. You need to push harder, be better.”

You feel your heart twist as Leo’s shoulders slump, his little body sinking under the weight of his grandfather’s disappointment. Before you can step in, Max is already there, his tall frame looming over his father protectively.

“Dad,” Max’s voice is low and dangerous, “back off.”

Jos straightens, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Max. “He needs to learn. You didn’t get to where you are by accepting second place, Max.”

“This isn’t about me, and it sure as hell isn’t about you,” Max says, stepping closer to his father, his hand on Leo’s shoulder now. “He’s *four*. He’s doing amazing, and I’m proud of him. You don’t get to tear him down the way you did with me.”

Leo looks up at Max, his big blue eyes—so much like his father’s—filled with uncertainty. “Daddy, I—”

Max kneels down in front of Leo, cutting off his words gently. “You did great today, Leo. You were fast, you were smart, and I’m so proud of you. It doesn’t matter if you came in second. What matters is that you gave it everything.”

Leo’s face brightens slightly, reassured by Max’s words. But Jos isn’t done.

“You’re too soft on him, Max. He needs to learn how to win, not just be content with second place. If you keep coddling him—”

“I’m not coddling him,” Max snaps, standing up again to face his father. His voice is colder now, angrier. “I’m teaching him that it’s okay to enjoy racing, that he doesn’t have to be perfect every time. He’s not me, Dad. And I won’t let you do to him what you did to me.”

Jos glares at Max, his expression hardening. “I made you a champion.”

“No,” Max says quietly, but with steel in his voice. “You made me scared of failing. I won’t let Leo feel that. He’s going to race because he loves it, not because he’s afraid of disappointing you.”

The tension between father and son crackles in the air, the years of unresolved resentment bubbling up to the surface. You step forward, placing a hand on Max’s arm, grounding him. You know how much it took for him to confront Jos like this, how deep those scars run.

Jos opens his mouth to argue, but then he looks at Leo, who’s clinging to Max’s leg, wide-eyed and unsure. Something shifts in Jos’s expression, a flicker of regret maybe, but it’s quickly masked by his usual stern demeanor.

“This is a mistake,” Jos mutters, shaking his head before turning away and walking off without another word.

Max lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. But when he looks down at Leo, his expression softens immediately. He crouches down again, pulling Leo into a hug.

“You did awesome today, buddy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”

Leo nods against his father’s chest, his small arms wrapping tightly around Max. “Okay, Daddy. I just want to be fast like you.”

Max chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Leo’s head. “You already are, kiddo.”

You kneel beside them, wrapping your arms around both of them, feeling the warmth and love in the moment, despite the lingering tension from Jos’s words.

Max meets your eyes over Leo’s head, and you can see the mixture of emotions there—anger, protectiveness, but most of all, a deep love for the family he’s built with you.

“He’s not going to grow up the way I did,” Max says softly, more to himself than to you, but you nod in agreement, squeezing his hand. “He’s going to grow up knowing he’s enough, no matter what.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the sound of engines still roaring on the track, you know that Max is right. Your little boy is loved, and that’s what matters most.

[thebibliosphere]

Do you have any advice on how to get doctors to listen to you? I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow and my parents are only giving me one chance at figuring out what’s why I’m having problems. For reference I’m an afab minor with diagnosed anxiety(I’m worried they’ll dismiss me as overreacting for this) and I can’t stand or sit for extended periods of time without pain and standing give me fatigue + brain fog and I use a cane to walk. No pressure of course, I just don’t have anyone irl to ask

Sorry I didn’t see this sooner, hopefully you see this in time.

If you have time, write down everything you want to bring up so you have a clear list you can refer to in case any jitters make you forget.

Try to rate how these symptoms affect your daily life and what they prevent you from doing. Do not underplay them or minimize what you’re going through.

Note: with some doctors if can sometimes help if you tell them that you want to get better so you can increase productivity and “get back to normal.” It’s ableist and bullshit but it can sometimes really help get them in your corner if you’re worried they might be dismissive or right you off.

I’ve had doctors who were very not keen to run tests change their tune the moment I said, “I just want to get to the bottom of this so I can fix it and go back to work.” (In your case school/extra circular activities)

As soon as they knew I was a good little worker bee, they wanted to help. It’s unfortunate but a lot of doctors feel that way.

If they bring up anxiety or try to dismiss your symptoms because that is in your file, tell them you know what your anxiety feels like but that this feels very different and hasn’t responded to anything you’ve tried to manage your anxiety.

I don’t know your home situation but it doesn’t sound supportive—I’m sorry for that. I know what it’s like to not have your medical needs met as a minor. But please know you can request for your parents not to be in the room with you if that would help.

I wish you all the best and I hope things improve for you soon. Take care 💖

[pedroscurls]

Hugh x younger gf (always age appropriate, 30s-55).

Hugh and reader hosting a bbq with friends and reader in super horny as she sees Hugh's sweat glow under the light of the fire

sneak away with me

summary: you sneak away with hugh during a party. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 2.2k warnings: smut (unprotected p in v sex, creampie, manhandling, dirty talk, oral - m receiving, doggy style, light spanking) a/n: ugh, i need this man bad. thank you to this anon for requesting this. i know i have more requests to get to, but i just needed some good hugh smut for my delulu mind (btw - this isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos!!!)

You can’t help but stare at Hugh. He’s talking with Shawn and Ryan at the grill, laughing with a drink in his hand and a spatula in the other. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, his arms flexing with each movement and you have to bite your lower lip at the sight of the fabric stretching around his muscles. 

The heat of the grill radiates off of him, a sheen of sweat trickling down the side of his neck as it disappears into the collar of his white t-shirt. He’s smiling and laughing – nose scrunching with each chuckle. Hugh seems so relaxed, so calm, but you… You can’t take your eyes off of him. You ended up tuning out the people you’re standing next to, eyes solely focused on Hugh. 

You and Hugh had decided to throw a casual barbeque with a handful of close friends, and especially after the success of Deadpool & Wolverine, you knew that Hugh needed this. To just relax and be around a group of people that keep him grounded. 

His eyes move towards you, flashing you a large smile as he brings his martini glass to his lips. Hugh’s eyes never leave you as he gazes at you from afar, from the rim of his glass. He knows that look you have on your face. He can see the way your eyes are ogling him, making it clearly obvious (to him) that you want him. Need him. 

Hugh excuses himself from the conversation and makes his way towards you, never once breaking the gaze. You want to walk towards him, want to just jump into his arms, but instead, you let him come to you. 

The people you were speaking with slowly walk away, giving you and Hugh some much needed personal time once he’s standing next to you. His hand rests on your lower back as he turns his head to give you a kiss at your temple, lingering for a moment to whisper. 

“You’re starin’, y’know that?” he says against your ear. 

“How can I not?” you respond, moving a hand to rest on his chest. “Do you see how good you look? And then to top it off, you’re standing in front of the grill all slick and sweaty and–”

Hugh’s low growl interrupts you mid-sentence. His lips are still near your ear as he subtly dips down to nibble at your earlobe. “This party is gonna go on for a few more hours and–”

“Take me upstairs,” you interrupt him. “They can mingle for a while. Ryan and Shawn can handle the grill.”

“You can’t wait for a few more hours?” Hugh asks, pulling back to look down at you. 

You’re gazing up at him, batting your eyelashes in his direction as you gnaw at your lower lip. “If you don’t take me upstairs, I’m gonna go up there myself and take care of it on my own,” you threaten.

Hugh’s gaze darkens as his hand dips lower to rest just above your backside. “Oh, baby, you and I both know you won’t be able to take care of it yourself.”

Your eyes narrow. “Well, you can stay down here and I’ll excuse myself from the party for a moment.” You turn on your heel, beginning to walk back inside the home you share with Hugh before he reaches for your wrist to pull you to him. You glance around, noticing that your guests aren’t even paying attention to you and Hugh. 

“Get on up there,” Hugh whispers, voice low and husky. “And when I get up there, you better be on your knees.” 

“Or what?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“Oh, you’ll find out. Now, get on up there.” Hugh releases his grip on you and watches you walk back inside the house as his eyes drift down to your backside. He feels his manhood stir awake, beginning to press itself against the fabric of his jeans. He gives it a few more minutes before he walks over to Ryan and Shawn, asking them to watch the grill for a moment.

“Oh, we saw the way she was looking at you,” Ryan winks. “Go get her, tiger.”

Hugh rolls his eyes and walks back inside the house, ascending the stairs and skipping a step to get to the second floor quicker. He approaches the bedroom and opens the door, seeing you lying back on the mattress instead of on your knees like he asked you to. 

“What are you doing?” Hugh asks, shutting the door behind him as he reaches for his belt and begins undoing them. “You’re not on your knees and I thought I said–”

“Wanted to lie down,” you interrupt him, leaning up on your elbows as you watch undo the button of his pants and then unzip the zipper. 

“Get on your knees,” Hugh demands, walking towards you.

“Can you say please?” you tease, biting your lower lip. You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you’re horny and you need him to split you in half. 

Hugh growls and shakes his head as he pushes his jeans and boxers down in one motion. His cock springs at attention, already leaking at the tip. 

“If anyone’s gonna be doing the begging, baby, it’s gonna be you.” Without waiting for you to respond, Hugh straddles your midsection, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head. His cock brushes against your lips and you’re pinned to the bed, Hugh hovering above you. “Be a good girl for me and open up.”

You feel your walls clench, already wet from earlier. You can’t play this game any longer and part your lips for him. He holds your wrists against the bed with one hand, using his free hand to grasp himself at his base and directs the head of his cock past your lips. 

“Suck,” Hugh demands. He’s careful not to put any weight on you as his knees are at either side of your chest, cock slowly sliding into your warm and wet mouth. When he feels your lips wrap around him tightly, his eyes slowly begin to flutter. He pushes his hips forward, forcing you to take more of him as you stare up at him with an innocent look in your eyes. “There’s my good girl,” he coos, letting out a quiet groan as he feels your tongue swirl around his length. 

His hips slowly begin to move forward, releasing himself to grab a fistful of your hair. He groans, eyes falling shut as his head tilts back as he guides your head along his manhood. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip around your wrist tightening. You’ve always loved doing this for him, seeing him completely at your mercy, even though you’re the one pinned to the bed. You hollow your cheeks as you pull back from his length and then lower your head back, feeling him begin to hit the back of your throat. You let out a quiet gag, tears stinging your eyes as Hugh moans. 

He pulls away abruptly, looking down at you as his cock is slick with your saliva. He moves down your body, forcing himself between your legs as he releases your wrists. Hugh leans down and brushes his lips against yours, growling lowly. 

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he smirks. “And then maybe you’ll be a good girl for the rest of the party.” 

You whimper, rubbing your legs together with anticipation. “And then you’ll fuck me again later?” 

“Oh, baby,” Hugh grins. “The night is only beginning.” 

Then, he climbs off the bed and grips your waist, turning you onto your stomach with ease. He then moves his hands to your hips, forcing you on all our fours as he lifts the ends of your dress to reveal your lower half, growling to himself at the lack of underwear. 

“You’re not wearing any underwear?” Hugh asks, gripping the base of his cock as he runs his head along the length of your sex. 

You moan, gripping the sheets as you try to push back against him, yearning for him to just slide into you. “N– No…”

“Ah, so you had this planned all along, hm?” Hugh says, pressing his tip to your entrance. “You’re lucky I love you,” he continues, hands gripping your hips as he slams into you without warning. He fills you to the brim, leaning over you as his lips hover against your ear. “Even though you are being bad.” 

“Y– You love it,” you say through quiet moans, trying to remain quiet even though everyone’s outside and away from earshot. 

“You’re right,” Hugh chuckles darkly. “I do like it when you’re bad. Gives me reason to punish you.” He pulls back, fingertips digging into the flesh at your hips as he wastes no time in thrusting into you repeatedly. The sound of skin slapping against one another echoes off the walls of the bedroom and you’re still forcing yourself to remain quiet, hands gripping the bed sheets. “Lemme hear you, baby,” Hugh encourages. 

His thrusts doesn’t let up. He fills you so perfectly, pulling out to his tip only to slam himself back into your warm depths. You know you’re going to be sore after this, but you don’t mind. It will only serve as a reminder of sneaking away with Hugh while hosting a barbeque with friends. 

“Oh god,” you moan aloud, eyes shut tight as you feel yourself begin to tremble. You know you’re close, know that you’re about to reach your high and Hugh knows it too. He then grabs your arms and crosses them behind you, gripping your wrists to hold them against your lower back as you move your cheek to rest on the mattress, backside high in the air for him. 

With his free hand, Hugh delivers a light slap to your ass. He groans to himself, the feeling of your walls tight around his length, milking him with each thrust brings him closer and closer to the edge. It excites him, knowing that he can fill you up with his seed. He likes knowing that you’ll end up squirming long afterwards, a clear sign of his spend pooling out of you. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Hugh moans, the sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed in with the sounds of your moans and the wet squelching noise coming from how wet you are. It’s almost filthy and it only drives him further. 

“H– Hugh,” you whimper, your walls beginning to clench around him as you feel your body tremble. “Oh fu–” Hugh releases your hands and grips your arms, pulling you upright to be flush against him. He moves an arm around your frame, gripping your breast over the fabric of your dress as his lips are near your ear. 

“God, baby,” Hugh growls against your lips. “Gripping me so tight, fuck,” Hugh’s hips begin to falter, his other hand reaching down to rub your clit. 

Your entire body is already so sensitive, still riding your climax and you try to claw at Hugh’s wrist, trying to push him away as the sensations become too much.

“Hugh–” you moan. “Baby, I can’t, oh god–”

“Gimme one more, love,” he says softly, breathless and panting against your ear. His grip around your breast tightens as he applies pressure to your clit, moving it in circles and at a pace to time with his thrusts. 

You reach behind you, lacing your fingers into his hair and gripping it tightly as your body shakes against him. You let out a loud moan as your walls tighten once more around his length and you feel him loosen his grip around you, moving his hands to your hips. His hips stutter and you feel his warmth shoot inside of you, filling you to the brim. 

He rolls his hips a few more times before he pulls out, watching his spend slowly begin to drip out of you and down your inner thigh. He growls at the sight and then watches as you move to lie on your abdomen, trying to catch your breath. 

Hugh walks to the bathroom to grab a warm and wet towel to clean you up. You shiver against his touch, looking over your shoulder at him with a lazy smile. 

“You better wear some underwear when we go back out there,” Hugh chuckles. “Or else this is gonna go everywhere.”

“Mmm, I like it,” you smile.

“I like it too, baby.” Hugh smiles, leaning down to peck your lips. “Love knowing that you’re filled of me.” 

You bite your lower lip and look up at him, slowly moving to lie on your back as you gaze into his eyes. “I love you, Hugh.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Do we have to go back out there?” you tease with a quiet laugh.

“Just a few more hours and then it’ll just be me and you,” Hugh promises.

You nod and then stand up once he’s finished cleaning you up, walking to the closet to pull on a pair of panties underneath your dress. When you step out, you see Hugh pull up his pants and boxers, buttoning and zipping it back up as he loops the belt around himself. 

He looks over at you and smiles, walking towards the door and taking your hand with him. 

“Ryan’s definitely going to give you shit,” you laugh, descending the stairs with him and going back out to the backyard to join everyone else.

[thaatdigitaldiary]

passenger princess

paige bueckers x fem reader

disclaimer!! i don’t usually write fics, i’m better at writing educationally (lame) but me & my friends wanted me to try something out of my comfort zone so enjoy. criticism is welcome, but be kind!

this is based off of the picture i posted of paige earlier so that’s the context (also on the banner)

tags: @rosemariiaa & @patscorner for encouraging me to do this elohel kisses to yall

enjoy 🤫

it was 10:47 am. the ac blasting throughtout your studio apartment. you tossed and turned in your bed, groaning from the lack of sleep the night before, caused by a stressful day of work yesterday, completely draining you. you were in a slump to say the least, and the only person who could help cheer you up, was your girlfriend. as you picked up your phone, it vibrated suddenly with a notification popping up, “p 💓” it read, and you opened the message.

it was a picture of her and a brand new car, a red cadillac with a black interior. after the picture comes through, another message follows.

“surprise?” it reads, and you’re shocked, not only about the fact that your girlfriend impulsively bought a new car, but how undeniably beautiful she looked.

her beautiful blonde hair, roots slowly coming through, but she made them look so good. she was clad in a gray sweatshirt despite this summer heat, and those stupid, yet adorable 2024 sunglasses you gave her for new years last year perched on her head.

as you go to text her back, you hear a knock at your front door. you fix your hair and throw your robe on, and go to answer it, while a text that just came through your phone appears.

“i’m outside”

“hi baby.” she says standing in front of you, grinning like a kid who just entered a candy store, jingling her new keys.

“paige.” you say sternly, slighting smirking at the fact that she was so excited to show you her new car. despite the fact that you and her have been dating since your sophomore year of college, she still made you nervous.

from her tall, lean figure, to her beautiful eyes that wander everytime you two see each other. she starts talking, but you can’t stop looking at her.

“baby.” she says, laughing a little. you were staring, and hadn’t heard a word she said to you.

“im sorry, did you say something?” you say, chuckling nervously, feeling embarrassed, but paige never found it embarrassing, she found it cute, matter of fact she loved it.

“i said did you wanna come ride wimmie? you gotta be the first in this car and you know that.” she tells you, leaning on your doorframe, taking you in. she looked you up and down and bit her lip, admiring you and your figure.

“of course p, lemme get dressed and fix my hair, i shouldn’t be too long.” you say sweetly, smiling at her and kissing her on the cheek.

she goes to sit on your couch, manspreading per usual, watching you walk away and into your room to find something to wear.

you rummage through your closet to find something comfortable but cute to wear, just in case you two make any stops, which you knew you would.

you do some finishing touches on your hair, leaving it down, just how paige liked it.

you walk out of your room, having a slight sway to your hips as you walk, which drove paige insane. you wore jean shorts and a black tube top, with your “p” necklace sparkling around your neck.

“jesus ma.” she says, whistling while her eyes travel all over your figure.

“what? should i change?” you asked with concern, worried you were overdressed.

“fuck no, you look beautiful, especially repping me like that,” she says, referring to the necklace with her initial on it, as she rubs her hands together and bites her lip, making you laugh.

“we can go wherever you want to mama, i filled the tank right after i left the dealership.” she grabs her lanyard with her keys attached to it out of her sweatpants pocket, and goes to open the front door for you.

“hm, there’s a new spot not too far from here, they got real good breakfast food, me and jana went the other day.”

“anything for you ma.” she tells you, sneaking a kiss in as you approach her car.

“okay this is beautiful p, and shiny as hell jesus,” you say, describing the darkish red colored car your girlfriend just impulsively bought.

“it needs a beautiful girl to sit in it y’know,” and you roll your eyes at her corniness, but you secretly love it. she opens the door for you and closes it behind you, and walks to the driver’s seat.

about 10 minutes pass and you two are almost at your destination. paige hooked up her bluetooth to her car as soon as she got it, you both listening to her playlist and singing along with the windows down and the wind blowing in your faces.

paige watched as your hair flowed in the wind, your smile so beautiful, and all she could think about what was how lucky she was, getting to see you whenever she wanted, hold you, kiss you, and be there for you, all the time.

she rested her hand on your thigh, driving with one hand, and smiling.

“baby,” you said softly.

“yeah ma?”

“i love you.”

“i love you more than anything ma, yk that.”

you two made it to the restaurant, paige disconnecting her phone from the aux, and gets out to open the door for you.

you could really get use to this new car smell, and being paige’s passenger princess for a long, long time.

I HOPE YALL ENJOYED! this might be a one time thing as i could never be too consistent but lemme know any feedback and i love you guys! 🙂‍↕️

[coco-loco-nut]

007 - part two

pairing: oscar x reader

summary: maybe a soulmate isn’t the worst thing to happen to you

masterlist part one part three requests open

——————

Oscar sent you a text that night. He was a little disappointed when it took you a couple days to reply, but that was quickly made up when you sent a time and location. The mystery around you is thrilling to him.

You wait in the corner of a cafe for Oscar, sipping a flat white. Your eyes immediately find him when he walks in, locked in on him. He quickly orders and makes his way to you. Oscar barely gets in a hello before you get down to business.

“I need you to know something before anything happens. I live a very dangerous life and I don’t plan on stepping away any time soon,” you leave certain things unsaid, like the very real chances of you dying. “It’s hard for the soulmates of those in my line of work. Suddenly the danger meter means more to them, and it can disrupt their lives,” you lean forward a little, subtly emphasizing how important it is.

“I’m a Formula One driver, I am familiar with the risk of dying. I know the risks associated with being your soulmate,” Oscar says and you bite back a remark about his job still being safer than yours. You need to try and be less standoffish.

“Right. Well, I can’t say that I know how to proceed with this. I’m a bit new to the whole thing,” you are a little embarrassed.

“I am too. We can handle it together,” Oscar smiles. He wants to reach across the table to hold your hand, but he doesn’t want to push it so he sips his coffee. “Tell me more about you, all I know is that you do a really dangerous job,” Oscar prompts you.

“Bold statement coming from someone who also has a really dangerous job. I really enjoy traveling, dislike paperwork. When I’m not working, I like reading or taking small trips. Um, I have a cat who is the light of my life,” you pause as Oscar lets out a laugh. “Tell me more about you, more than what your background check tells me,” Oscar sees the playful glimmer in your eye.

“Well, I’ve been getting into cricket and basketball. When I was a kid, I went through this phase where I thought I was a car,” Oscar admits.

“I would always sneak around as a kid, acting like a spy. I guess both of our childhood fantasies worked out,” you hide your bittersweet feelings. Oscar notices but doesn’t push it.

“So I guess you would be the Holly Shiftwell to my Lightning McQueen,” Oscar tries to bring up your mood but you give him confused look.

“But they were never romantic partners?” you say, a little confused with how happy Oscar looks. He’s just happy you have seen the movies and seem to like them enough.

“Semantics. What are you doing now that you aren’t chasing down criminals in the paddock?”

“You mean your soulmate? I’m being forced to take a break from missions right now. Apparently I’ve been hogging all the action and need to help in HQ for a few months,” your distaste for the orders is clear on your face.

“You can join me at a race. If you want to,”

“Really? I don’t want to be a distraction and I don’t know anything about Formula One,” you hesitate, not wanting to impose.

“I want you there. Who better to teach you the sport than me?” Oscar reassures you.

“Well, I guess I will have to take you up on it,” you take the little leap of faith. It’s not something you would normally do. But your soulmate is worth it… right?

You and Oscar agree to a race that is around a month later, giving you time to get to know each other and for him to teach you different aspects of the sport. The month still doesn’t seem to be enough as you arrive at your first race as his soulmate.

“Hey,” Oscar pulls you into a hug as you stand at his hotel room door. He presses a kiss to your forehead before taking your bag as you walk in.

“How was media?” you ask, making yourself comfortable on the bed beside him. It’s clear that he hastily straightened up the room when he got back from free practice.

“Boring, I was counting down the minutes until you got here,” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you hum in response. You relax into his warmth, taking in the familiar scent that you’ve found comfort in.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of the office too,” you admit a few moments later. You left a little early to catch a flight here for the weekend.

“Still stuck on paperwork? I must admit, it’s nice not having your danger meter spike,” Oscar murmurs, a little sleepy.

“What’s on your mind?” Oscar observes your distant look when you don’t immediately reply, having learned how to read you more.

“What would you say if I left my job?” you say quietly, almost a whisper. Oscar sits up, needing to properly look at you.

“I’d be a little confused because you love it, but ultimately it’s your choice,” Oscar says, silently asking you to elaborate.

“Well, as soon as someone finds out who I am my cover is blown, putting both of us at risk. It’s a lonely life, and when it was only Boots and me that was okay, but I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you admit, not expecting to feel emotional about it.

“I’ll support you either way, but I don’t want you to quit just for me. What would you do if you left?” he asks, feeling a little guilty.

“The longer I stay in action, the more dangerous my missions will be. Most of mine before didn’t interact with targets, but things will get more dangerous from here. It’s what I’ve worked for my whole life. As for what I would do if I left…” you pause for a second, letting Oscar absorb everything. “Well, your security is seriously lacking, and as your soulmate I think I should do something about that. I was also offered a higher up position that would take me out of action for good,”

“Having my own personal security guard who is also my soulmate? That could be dangerous,” somehow you don’t think Oscar means the kind of danger that would raise your meters.

“Oscar!” Your cheeks flush as you bite back a laugh, acting scandalized. “Alright, I’m going to shower before bed,” you slide out of his arms, looking back at him, knowing what he is about to suggest. “No, you can’t join,” you laugh as he pouts. You two aren’t there yet, but he is proud at how comfortable you are around him.

Oscar leaves early in the morning for free practice, promising to meet you at the gates when you arrive for qualifying. You happily take the extra time to sleep.

Qualifying is your test run. You get a feel for the team and race environment while keeping a low profile. Arriving for the race is a different thing.

“Ready?” Oscar asks as he parks at the circuit. He looks so cozy in his hoodie, and to be fair, you woke him up half an hour before having to leave.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you nervously smile. You are never nervous, but this is different. You are dressed fashionably, but nothing that makes you stand out too much. Your dark sunglasses help hide some of your features as you walk in on Oscars arm. You both look happy as you walk in, and the media notices.

“Oscar!” Logan calls him over, you recognize the American from your initial background check.

“Hey. This is my soulmate, Y/n. Y/n, this is my best friend, Logan,” Oscar introduces both of you.

“Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you,” you hug Logan, taking him by surprise.

“Aww, you talk about me?” Logan coos at Oscar.

“You came up in her background check on me,” Oscar says causing Logan to let go of your hug.

“Weird, but I like it. We are going to be great friends, Leiter and Bond,” Logan rolls with it. He remembers the first time Oscar mentioned you and that’s enough for him.

“You are a sexier James Bond, license to kill and all,” Oscar chimes in, trying to flirt and joke at the same time.

“Oh baby, no. That is nothing like what we do,” you accidentally slip up, and Logan’s eyes widen.

“I thought you were joking. I will keep this to myself though. That’s so cool. Can we watch those movies together?” Logan quickly says, not wanting you to worry. Your initial coolness that Oscar described to him over the past month makes more sense to him now.

“We should get going, I don’t want Zak and Andrea to get mad,” Oscar says, leading both of you away.

“This is the McLaren motorhome, you are welcome to sit in the drivers lounge or in my room while I am in the meeting. Afterwards, I can introduce you to Charles and his girlfriend,” Oscar offers as you look around.

“They should have better security here,” you tut, looking at all the different ways you could easily get in.

“Don’t worry, other teams aren’t coming in and stealing our secrets,” Oscar kisses the side of your head as he leads you upstairs to his drivers room.

“I could always do some recon,” you slyly smile, anything to help him win.

“That’s okay, I don’t need that to win. I have you motivating me,” he smiles, one which falters as a man with brown curly hair comes barreling towards you.

“OSCAR! Is this her? Hi, I’m Lando,” the man, Lando, says, extending his hand.

“Y/n,” you coolly reply, defenses going up as he pulls you into a hug once you take his hand. Oscar can tell you are uncomfortable, Lando springing himself on you.

“Let me help her get settled and I will be down,” Oscar says, cueing Lando to go to the meeting without him. “You are going to look Lando up, aren’t you?” he asks with an amused smile once you are in the safety of his room.

“Yeah, get ready for all his dirty laundry to be aired,” you lightly laugh.

“I look forward to it. I need more blackmail on him. I’ll see you soon, this meeting won’t take long,” Oscar promises, leaving you alone. You spend the half hour he is away looking up his teammate and some other drivers.

“Did I do something wrong?” Lando asks Oscar on their way back to the drivers rooms.

“No, she just wasn’t expecting you. Y/n is pretty guarded around new people, it stems from her job. She will warm up to you,” Oscar replies, not wanting his teammate and soulmate to hate each other.

“Does she work for the government or something?” Lando jokes, a little too accurate.

“Or something, don’t worry about it,” Oscar says, excited to see you again. You wait at the door for Oscar.

“For a professional driver, you have a lot of traffic violations,” you tell Lando, who notices the amused glimmer in your eye and relaxes. Whatever you did during the meeting seems to have worked.

“I have the need for speed,” Lando smiles, happy that you’ve warmed up a little. “Wait, how did you-“

“Don’t worry about it, we will see you later,” Oscar cuts him off, taking you to Ferrari.

“So, Charles is your fake adoptive dad? He has a fairly clean record, I couldn’t find much on him,” you comb over what you learned in your mind.

“Oh, Max is going to love you. You both have cats and you could prep him for whoever he is meeting with,” Oscar laughs, glad that you are taking the time to know his coworkers even if it isn’t the traditional route.

“Max Verstappen? I don’t usually do hits, but I will take out his father for free if he wants,” the way you say it so casually causes Oscar to almost choke.

“I will let him know,” he says, a little unsure how one replies to that.

You are quick to befriend Charles and Alexandra, the latter offers for you to join her while watching the race. You politely decline, but promise to join another race. Oscar takes you around to some other drivers, including Max, before introducing you to more people at McLaren.

You settle into the garage as the race starts, nervous as you watch Oscar on a small screen. You are aware of cameras that are pointed at you, but you ignore them. They don’t know you, all they can do is speculate.

The race is going smoothly until lap 37. Oscar is fighting for position when you fell the sickening twinge of the meter on your arm increasing. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you listen to the team radio, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Carlos and Oscar made contact which at minimum punctured Oscar’s tires. You hear his frustration, but you are just glad that’s all it was.

“Check the front wing too,” you hear him say after confirming he’s okay. He makes it back to the garage safely due to the incident being close to pit lane, but they retire his car due to other damage. Oscar seems too calm to you as he exits the car. Even you would show more emotion in that scenario.

Oscar’s eyes meet yours and before you know it, you are on your feet walking to him. He wraps you in a hug and you gently rub his back. You hold each other for a minute, taking a moment ground each other.

“You okay?” you practically yell over the noise and he just nods, guiding you out of the garage.

“That’s not the win I wanted to give you,” Oscar sighs as you walk back to his room after he gets weighed.

“I hope I’m not bad luck,”

“Never. You are good luck, that should’ve been worse than it was,” Oscar reassures you. A small part of him is happy to be spending time with you.

“I’m sorry your race ended like that, you were driving so well,” you frown, as Oscar squeezes your hand.

“Nothing I can do now, next race is a new opportunity. I have to go do media, do you want to watch the rest in McLaren?” Oscar asks, wanting to know where to find you later.

“I’ll go to Ferrari and watch with Alexandra,” you decide, needing to have friends around here. Oscar nods, leading you to your new friend. He kisses you goodbye before you walk in.

“Hey, are you okay? Those are scary, no matter how minor,” Alexandra greets you when she notices you.

“Yeah. Osc is fine, I’m just upset for him,” you shrug. You’ve seen your partners in danger on missions, but this is a whole different ballgame.

“Grab a seat, want a coffee?” she asks, making sure you are comfortable.

“No, but maybe you can teach me better than Oscar,” you watch her face light up as she immediately dives into sharing her knowledge, explaining everything to you as it happens.

“Come and meet some of the others. Oscar will be pulled into meetings,” Alexandra says, pulling you away from Ferrari.

“Shouldn’t you be with Charles? He must be looking for you,”

“He can wait,” Alexandra waves your concern off as you galavant around the paddock.

Your great experience with the WAGs further conflicted you if you wanted to stay or leave your job. And it all came to a head when you were brought in on an emergency mission once you returned from your weekend away.

This might be your most dangerous recon mission yet. Your part is simple on paper, get in, copy the digital files, get out. It wasn’t simple in execution.

You just skimmed the files, getting crucial information that will stop the operation. Now for the hard part - getting out and getting away.

You slip out of the room, when you hear footsteps getting closer and closer. Just like the stereotype, you slide around a corner and hold your breath, praying they don’t turn your way. They are so close you can feel their body heat beside you. You focus on remaining calm, but this is the most on edge you’ve ever been. You close your eyes as you feel your stomach drop.

This is it. You can see Oscar’s face as he opens his driver room door, two agents standing outside. The agents are solemn as they deliver the news - you were captured and killed on a mission. Every word, every moment is played perfectly in your mind. And your cat, Oscar will have to take care of Boots, a constant reminder of you.

Oscar sits in his post FP2 meeting when it happens, feeling the sickening feeling of your danger meter telling him you were in danger. After it being normal for the past few days, his stomach drops at how high it is.

“I need five,” Oscar runs out like he’s about to puke. You promised in your hastily written letter that you’d try to be safe, but all you really said that you had to leave, couldn’t take your phone, and it was an emergency. He naively thought that you wouldn’t be in the field, that you were just needed on the sidelines. He wasn’t completely wrong, you helped from the side for everything but your part in the operation.

“Oscar? Hey, are you okay?” Lando asks, walking into the room where Oscar disappeared to.

“I- I don’t know,” Oscar looks at his arm, silently pleading for the meter to go down. Lando sees it and just sits beside Oscar.

“Wanna talk about it?” Lando says after a few seconds of silence.

“She left a few days ago with only a note and her cell phone behind. Got an emergency call while I was out. Poor Boots, he must miss his mom. And I know she’s not abandoning me, but I think I finally know how my mom feels about my career,” Oscar says after a minute.

“I assume she’s in the military, or like, a detective to be in danger, and that’s pretty badass of her. I know she came off as cold initially to a lot of us, except when she’s with you and some of the girls, but I can tell that she really likes you. And she seems like she holds her own,” Lando starts listing everything he likes about you from the couple interactions you had during the race day. It helps distract Oscar, calming him little by little.

You step around the corner as soon as the voices fade and come face to face with a security guard. You quickly land a few punches, knocking him out. In the moment you are grateful for your disguise and the cameras that are currently disabled thanks to your team. As you quickly exit the building, you notice another guard tailing you. You quickly get into your getaway car, turning it on and pressing the throttle. It lurches under you, making a hasty exit as they chase you.

Glances in the rear view mirror tell you that you aren’t out of the woods yet. You send a small prayer that Oscar’s talent will be enough as you speed down the street. The car just isn’t fast enough, you are being hunted and the hunter keeps creeping closer and closer. Once again you hope your luck hasn’t run out as you will the car to go just a little faster.

Lando stays seated beside Oscar, trying not to stare at the meter on his teammates arm. He watches the tears run down Oscar’s face as the meter creeps higher, higher, then drops.

[luveline]

hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!

thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 

You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 

It’s not fun. 

You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 

Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 

The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird

A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 

You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 

You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 

You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 

I miss you too, you text back. 

Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later

Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 

You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 

“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 

“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 

“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 

He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 

He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 

You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 

He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 

“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.

“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 

You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.

“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 

“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 

“I don’t want mystery with you.” 

Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 

“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 

You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 

“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 

You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 

Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.

Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 

[mischievousmoony]

Omg I love ur James fics. You think you could do one where reader finally feels comfortable getting drunk while going out with their group because she knows James is there to take care of her. Ur drunk reader x James interactions are too cute. I feel like I always have a hard time letting go cause I’m afraid I’ll need to take care of my other friends haha. Love your work!

thank u love! i have fun writing them, i just know james would be so caring! ps thank you for being patient ik this request came in a while ago

𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍

⟢ james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.0k ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (i think that’s it but lmk if i missed any pls)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"But what if Sirius tries to get a new tattoo again?" you ask, twisting back and forth with a steady squeak, squeak, squeak of your barstool.

James clasps his hand on your shoulder, turning you one last time to face him. "Remus is watching him."

"What if Marlene tries to go on another one of her adventures?"

Marlene has a knack for getting herself into precarious situations when she gets drunk, which she likes to call her “little adventures.” Usually, this means going home with a stranger, whether it’s for a hookup or to steal their lightbulbs because they looked at her wrong.

"Lily’s got her.”

"What if I do something stupid?" you ask, now swinging your legs. The nerves eating away at you just won’t let you sit still.

James puts his other hand on your knee, soothing you with a gentle squeeze. "I'm watching you," he says. After thinking it over for a moment, he adds, “And I don't think you'll do anything stupid. Even if you do, I'll do something more stupid so that nobody notices."

This earns him a giggle from you, and he’s happy to see you smiling. He picks up your glass, which is now covered in beads of water, plenty of time having passed for condensation to run its course. He dries what he can with a napkin because he knows you hate when the droplets land in your lap.

You once asked him why it happened, even though you knew the answer. He simply told you it was science.

“Science is stupid,” you had said, eyes fixating on several small spots of water soaking into your jeans.

Now, James wraps your glasses with napkins. He holds out your drink, a black napkin enveloped around it, as he asks, “You want to do this, right?”

You peek into the glass and watch the dwindling ice cubes swirl around in a vodka cran; a drink that James had called “beginner friendly.”

“Yeah,” you answer shyly.

James frowns. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.”

You chew your bottom lip, thinking it over. A part of you wants to forget it, but another part of you knows you’d be disappointed in yourself for chickening out again.

You wrap your hand around the glass, cringing at the squish of the soggy napkin beneath your fingertips. You don’t know what’s worse: this feeling or the water dripping all over you. But James’ attempts to help make you feel warm inside, so you don’t complain.

“No, I still want to do this.”

“Then I’m here for you. Promise.” James gives your knee another squeeze.

You cast a look toward your friends. For years, you've nominated yourself as the designated driver. Or you've claimed to have early morning obligations. You've always felt better knowing someone sober was around to deliver plenty of water and carb-rich snacks to your incapacitated friends.

That was your excuse, anyway. Not that it isn't one of your concerns, but truthfully, something about drinking makes you feel uneasy. You always knew your friends were safe because you've been there, ready to hold back anyone's hair or stray them away from bad decisions. If you drank too, how could you be sure your friends would have someone to depend on? How could you be sure you would have someone to depend on?

Then, you started dating James, and you found a level of trust you never knew was possible. You know you can depend on him for anything.

When you admitted to him why you never drink when you go out, he swore up and down that he would be there for you.

Remembering his promise summons a wave of courage. You shoot James a nervous smile, and take your first sip, scrunching your nose as it burns your tongue.

"This is kind of gross."

James barks a laugh, "We can try to find something you'd like better next round. That is, if you decide to have another."

Feeling brave, you do have another. That's when you discovered something called the Cosmic Lemon Fizz; a drink that sparkles with edible glitter and manages to be blue, green, and yellow all at once. You laughed when you saw it, not knowing how in for it you were.

"Jamie!" you exclaim after taking a sip of your third Cosmic Lemon Fizz. "This tastes like happy feels!" you gasp as if the thought had just occurred to you, despite this being the fourth time you tell him.

"I bet it does!" James cheers. His eyes wrinkle in the corners as he beams at you.

"You should try one!" you declare, and immediately try to flag over the bartender.

James smoothly takes your hand, stopping you as he says, "No can do. Made a promise to a pretty girl that I wouldn't have a drop tonight."

You whip your head around. "Who!?" you ask, eyes wide.

"Who do you think, pretty girl," he says, poking you in the side.

Giggles escape you and you swat his hand away. He doesn't go far, lifting his arm to brush some stray hairs out of your face. His hand lingers on the side of your face, soothing the pad of his thumb against your cheek.

You lean into his touch, gazing up at him with an affectionate glaze in your eyes; a look that gives him butterflies.

"Wowww," you say dreamily. "You're handsome."

James feels his heart flip in his chest. "Thank you, love," he says, a soft smile playing at his lips.

"Hey," Sirius says, appearing out of nowhere as he lazily throws an arm over your shoulders, "How's it going over here?"

While you're distracted with Sirius, James waves over the bartender and replaces your drink with water. The next time you reach for your glass, you hesitate.

"Where's my cosmo magic fizzy thingy?" you ask, an eyebrow raised as you glance at James.

"You must've finished it," he shrugs, acting clueless.

"That's like the oldest trick in the book. You replaced it with water and now you're trying to be sneaky!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," James feigns innocence.

You giggle, bringing the straw to your lips. "I knew you'd take care of me. I love you," you say, happily sipping your water.

James feels another eye-wrinkling smile break out on his face. "I love you too, pretty girl."

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[songbirdseung]

you're here, baby / lee heeseung

where you surprise visit your long-distance boyfriend after their tour finally ended genre long distance au, established relationship, fluff

Heeseung settled onto the couch, his phone propped up on the armrest as he waited for your call. It was your usual routine—after his long, exhausting days of practice or after he’d spent hours in the studio, you would sync up over video calls, watching movies together as a way to stay connected despite the distance between you. It had become the highlight of his nights, and while nothing could replace having you right there with him, those virtual movie dates made the separation feel a little less painful.

His phone buzzed, and your face appeared on the screen. He grinned immediately, all the exhaustion he’d been feeling melting away the moment he saw you. You were still as beautiful as ever, and even through the screen, you always had a way of making him feel at ease.

"Hey, babe. What movie are we watching tonight?" he asked, trying to seem casual, though he was always giddy just to see you.

"Actually, before we start..." you said, your voice taking on that playful tone that always made him curious. Heeseung raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“What is it this time?” He laughed softly, already used to your random little requests. You were always full of surprises, sending him gifts or packages to make him smile on the days you couldn’t be there.

"Can you do me a favor?" you asked, your smile widening as you watched his expression shift into slight confusion.

"Another package, huh? You’re spoiling me too much,” Heeseung joked, sitting up a little straighter. "What is it this time? More snacks? A hoodie?"

You giggled, biting your lip to contain the excitement bubbling inside you. "Just... step outside your house for a minute. Trust me, okay?"

"Outside? Babe, it’s late, and I was just getting comfortable," he said, pouting slightly, but he still got up from the couch. He couldn’t say no to you, even if it was something as odd as stepping outside in the middle of the night.

As he slipped on his shoes by the door, he still couldn’t shake the curiosity. “Alright, alright. I’m going, but this better be good.”

Heeseung opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, glancing around in the dim glow of the streetlights. The night air was cool, and the streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of passing cars. He scanned the area, searching for whatever surprise you had in store for him. “Okay, I’m here. Now where’s this package?”

"Are you sure you’re looking in the right place?" your voice teased through the phone, barely holding back your excitement. You knew he’d catch on any second now.

Heeseung laughed, his brow furrowed as he looked around again, but nothing was out of place. “Yeah, I’m looking. Did you hide it or something? Come on, give me a hint.”

Then, you dropped the surprise. "You wanna leave your lover outside?"

Heeseung froze, your words making his heart skip a beat. He turned slowly, his eyes landing on a figure approaching the house from the street. His breath caught in his throat, disbelief clouding his mind as he saw you, standing there in person, walking up the driveway toward him.

"No way," he breathed, the shock rendering him momentarily speechless. His phone nearly slipped from his hands as he fumbled to shove it into his pocket. In an instant, he dashed toward you, closing the distance between you in seconds.

You grinned as you saw him sprinting toward you, your own heart racing as you finally reached him. Before you could say anything, Heeseung enveloped you in his arms, lifting you off the ground in a tight embrace. His laughter filled the air, the joy and disbelief evident in the way he held you close.

“You’re here,” he gasped, his voice filled with pure elation as he pulled back slightly to look at your face, his hands cradling your cheeks like he needed to make sure you were real. "You’re actually here... How? When did you—"

You laughed softly, still catching your breath from the excitement. "Surprise, Hee."

Heeseung let out a breathy laugh, hugging you again, spinning you around slightly as if to convince himself that this moment was real. The feel of your warmth against him, the familiar scent of your perfume—it was all too good to be true.

"I can’t believe you’re here," he murmured, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "I missed you so much."

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him just as tightly. "I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to come see you."

After what felt like forever in his arms, you finally nudged him gently. "Come on, let’s go inside. It’s cold out here."

Heeseung nodded, still holding onto your hand as he led you back inside the house, his heart still racing from the excitement. As you walked in, you kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your jacket, making yourself comfortable like you’d done a million times before. It felt like home, being there with him.

But Heeseung stayed by the door, his back leaning against the frame as he watched you move around the house, his eyes filled with wonder. You were really there, in front of him, not just on a screen. It felt surreal.

Noticing him standing there, you turned around and gave him a curious look. "What’s wrong?"

Heeseung didn’t respond right away. Instead, he slowly made his way over to you, his footsteps quiet as he approached. When he reached you, he stopped just a few inches away, his hands gently resting on your arms as he stared at you, his expression soft and filled with love.

“You’re really here,” he whispered, his voice quiet and full of emotion. "You’re actually here, baby."

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. "I’m here. It’s real."

Heeseung leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath. “I can’t believe it,” he said softly. "I missed you so much. Seeing you through a screen wasn’t enough... I needed this. I needed you."

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. "Well, I’m not going anywhere for a while. I’m all yours."

Heeseung let out a quiet laugh, his lips brushing against your forehead as he held you close. "Good. Because I’m never letting you go again."

The weight of the past months, the long nights of missing each other, melted away in that moment. It didn’t matter how far apart you’d been—right now, you were together, and that was all that mattered.

[starlight-library]

Impromptu dates | LN4

pairing: lando norris x sick!bookworm!reader

summary: a bookworm & f1 driver + stomach bug = the best lazy date ever.

warnings: none!

fc: none!

wc: 859

Most people hated being sick.

It’s understandable that people hated being sick. They don’t feel. They feel gross. They feel off. The list goes on and on on why people hated being sick. Especially people who are more independent and hate the idea of someone else taking care of them. Which you understood as it hit a bit too close to home.

Which is why as someone fiercely independent as you are, people never understood why you enjoy being sick. 

You could never find the words to explain it when people ask you on the spot. You try and try yet you’re never happy with your answer and people never quite believed you which was fair but you didn’t care. You enjoyed it when you were sick. 

Not violently ill, which you emphasize. You did not enjoy running a super high fever, or running to the bathroom, or having your head constantly over a toilet vomiting up basically nothing. That was not fun. You enjoy the kind of sickness where you can’t go out into the world for a day or two. Maybe a low grade fever that’ll pass or a quick stomach bug that’s out of your system fast but you still take the precaution and stay indoors. 

Why?

Well that’s because it means you can stay under the covers after a shower with your kindle in its little tablet holder. Page turner remote in hand while having your water and drink of choice (mostly iced coffee), and some white noise as background noise. It was truly perfection for you.

Yet it was Lando’s hell.

Lando, your boyfriend, hated when you were sick. It meant no cuddles. No hugs. No kisses. Any physical contact was on halt and it was already torture given his schedule so the rare time he did get to see you in person and you were sick? He was miserable. Sure, you two video called but it just made him more sad that he wasn’t there to take care of you even if you swore that you didn’t need someone to take care of you. He refused to believe it so he would send you meals and medicine. He refused to let you pay him back so you’ve learned to accept it without the guilt weighing on your shoulders. It was a nice agreement you two had silently made and nothing really could beat this.

Until now.

There was a month break in between Singapore and Austin and Lando was going to soak up every second he could get and it was fine till somehow you caught a stomach bug. Lando refused to leave which also meant he caught the stomach bug.

You’re happily half laying/half sitting next to Lando against some pillows under a weighted heated blanket. You have one of his sweatshirts on while sipping your iced coffee and looking at your kindle while Lando tosses and turns next to you. You tried offering him medicine or some crackers and soup but he’s turned all the options down but now it seems he’s settled down. You look over and are greeted with the same green-blue eyes you’ve grown to pick out of the crowd in a moment. You see the curls sticking to his forehead and gently you push some out of the way and smile. “Hey.”

“How are you drinking iced coffee right now?” The Brit asks.

You shrug before smiling, “I don’t know. Guess I feel better after cleaning my stomach out and taking some medicine unlike someone.” Poking his forehead, you giggle while he huffs slightly and moves his head away. You hear Lando grumble something about the medicine tasting bad and you roll your eyes. “You’re such a big baby.”

Lando pouts slightly grumbling he is not a big baby before you return to your book. You look back hearing a huff and raise a brow. “Yes?”

“How do you just lay here and read and do nothing? I’m so bored yet too tired to get up.”

You shrug, “I just get really engrossed in my books sometimes I forget to even eat or pee.”

“You what!?” Lando sits up a bit in surprise before laying down and whining at his upset stomach.

“Oh come here.” You start.

You shift and sit up a bit more and reach over and rearrange your nightstand. You move your drinks further back along with your tablet holder before grabbing your TV remote and turning the TV on. You watch Lando lay there for a moment before shifting closer. He tosses and turns before slowly he settles on his stomach letting a soft sigh of relief out. Wrapping his arms around your waist, the Brit nuzzles his face into your stomach before settling down and looking at the TV. Lando flips through some apps and television options before settling on ‘The Hangover’.

Settling back down against the pillows you run your fingers gently through his hair while you go back to your book, the movie becoming background noise for you. This is how you two spend the evening and it’s the best impromptu date and now becomes your go to date.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your apartment is dark. You usually leave a light on but today, everything is off. That’s an understatement.  

You lock the door then check twice before you get your shoes off to make sure you really did. You put your knapsack on the stool next to the mat. The air stirs coolly and you shiver as you unzip your jacket and face the apartment. 

The entryway light leaks into the front room and limns over the side of the couch. You wade through the dark and flick on the lamp. Another ripple of wind flows around you. You leave your jacket on, half undone and cross the room as you stare. 

The window is broken. You stop and look down at the shards of glass across the floor. You glance back up at the frame, only a few pieces left in it. You don’t know if it makes you feel better that there’s no way that man would fit through there. Not really, that only means it could have been someone else. 

You take out your phone and dial out to your landlord. As you wait for the line to pick up, you turn on every light in your tiny apartment. You check the single closet and the shower stall and anywhere someone might hide. At least you’re all alone. 

Shit, you’re all alone. 

You cross an arm over your chest as the voicemail greeting rolls over and beeps. 

“Hey, Colin, yeah it’s apartment 1C. The window’s broken. Got home from work and... guess I’ll cover it up for tonight. Please call me back in the morning.” You hang up. What else can you do? 

You stare at the window. You don’t have anything really to cover it with. You keep your phone close and search for anything. The cardboard won’t keep anyone out but once sealed with a garbage bag it will at least block the wind.  

You finish taping up the edges and sigh. You sweep up the stray glass and toss it in a spare box. 

You’re shaking again. It’s too much of a coincidence. You know deep down that it can’t be. Yet, what good does that do you? If it’s not just a string of bad luck, then that means he knows where you live. 

You leave the lamp beside the couch on and turn off the rest of the lights. You hang your jacket then undress in the bedroom. You put on a striped sleep shirt and grab your pillow and blanket. You cast some mindless reality show to the television to fill the silence. 

You go to the bathroom to wash your face and go through your basic nighttime routine. You pause to look at your scalp in the mirror. You use a hand mirror to see it better. Ouch. You’re not too sure if you can do anything but hope that it grows back. 

You retreat to the couch and hunker down. The light will keep you safe. You hope. 

You can’t close your eyes. Your heart won’t stop thumping. You fidget and wriggle around on the couch. Your lashes droop and you feel yourself drifting.  

You give a start and sit up with a gasp as a loud bang cuts through your exhaustion. You grasp at your chest as you look around. Your television is on the floor, screen down, and a gust puffs through the open window. 

You look over at the cardboard and plastic as it hangs from the tap, shorn through. You shudder and hug the blanket around you as you stand. Shit. Was he in here? How... the window is too small-- 

You turn slowly and face the door. You locked it. You know you did. You double, triple-checked. You flip on the entryway light as you near the door. It’s not closed all the way. The door sits against but not in the frame. The latch is turned back and the chain is snapped. 

You push it shut and twist the latch. You stifle a sob and make yourself look through the peephole. It’s black. Something’s blocking it from the other side. 

You recoil and race into the kitchen. You grab the broom from where you left it leaning against the counter and go to the window. You aim the handle out the window and try to see out into the dark. 

“Go away!” You scream into the void. “Leave me alone!” 

Your voice echoes and evaporates into the city. You gulp and stare out. Waiting. Nothing. 

What do you do?  

It’s futile but your tape the window up again. With the cardboard torn through, it hardly makes a difference but you try. You think of calling the police. Maybe you should but the officer’s nonchalance deters you from the trouble. 

You lift your TV. It’s cracked. Broken. Half of it is black and the other half is a spectrum of colours. You put it back on the stand and unplug it. 

You pull the blanket tighter as you start another investigation around the apartment. The bathroom is untouched; the shower empty. The bedroom looks much the same but as you turn to the door, you notice the open drawer. 

You shut it without looking inside. You don’t want to think about that. You doubt he was looking for socks... 

Back in the living room, you sit on the couch, folding yourself up in the corner. You cling to your phone and hug your knees. You rest your chin on top and stare at the wall. Waiting. Dreading.  

He’s not going to stop. He’s toying with you. It’s clear that he could just walk right in and do what he wants. And when he decides to do just that, you’re not sure you’ll be able to do anything. 

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: Source for tarot reading

Transcript under the cut

Morgan: Ever done this before?

Nancy: Can’t say that I have.

Morgan: Are you as put off about this as that other bible thumper?

Nancy: [rolls eyes] We’re not all the same. I’m more than my faith.

Morgan: I don’t doubt that. I’m sure there’s many layers to you. Where are you from?

Nancy: Brindleton Bay.

Morgan: Really, I’m from Portridge, a small town south of the Bay. Originally.

Nancy: Yeah? So, how did you end up a Fyres?

Morgan: Great question. My mom was his secretary. Super scandalous shit, which would explain while the Royal Barbie hates my guts. He’s not a bad step dad though. Hell of lot better than my actual dad. So, your parents-

Nancy: Isn’t the probing developing a bias or something?

Morgan: Just a little small talk. So, is there a question you want answered? Perhaps, a question about your past, your present or your future?

Nancy: I-

Nancy Narrates: [I want to get forget my past. I want to survive my present. I want to escape my future. Could there really be an answer for all that in those cards]

Nancy: I don’t know...

Morgan: That’s ok. You intention will guide us.

Morgan: Pick three cards that call to you. Based on the three, we will see what the cards have to say about your past, present and future.

Nancy: And you believe in this?

Morgan: We believe what we believe in, right? You have your three?

Nancy: I think so..

Morgan: Let’s take a look.

Morgan: Your past—the Upright Fool. Innocence. Curorsity. Something new and exciting—perhaps a first love in your youth that swept you off your feet?

Nancy Narrates: [Already I hated this...]

Morgan: Your present- the Reversed Star. Insecurity. Self doubt. A loss of faith. Interesting. Perhaps a struggle with one’s own faith? Are you having any doubts, Nancy? About yourself? About your God?

Morgan: Your future- the Upright Devil. Lust. Obsession. Temptation. Could be for the material things of life, or maybe a desire of the flesh.

Nancy: [clears throat] That all seems incredibly vague.

Morgan: [grins] Does it? Your poker face could use some work. Let me ask you something. Who exactly did I remind you of? Someone from your past?

Morgan: Your silence is very telling. I have a real gift for reading people.

Nancy: I’m sure you believe you do.

Morgan: [laughs] I really do!

Morgan: Tightly wound, fidgeter. You bite the hell out of your nails, right at the skin on the tips of your fingers, unconsciously. You pick at it until it bleeds. It’s the only thing that’s keeping you tethered to your own body. The pain, that is.

Morgan: Right?

Geoffrey: You made it! And making friends! Sorry, am I interrupting girl talk?

Morgan: It’s cool, boy wonder. Want me to do your reading?

Geoffrey: Are you kidding? Of course I do!

Nancy: Actually, I think I want to g-

Geoffrey: Really quick, Nance, then I’ll walk you to your dorm!

Geoffrey: Upright Death for my future sounds kind of scary when you think about it, huh? She said it could mean profound change. Sounds promising.

Nancy: [tsks] That could mean literally anything. That whole practice strives on vagueness. You can never be wrong if you’re bound to be right.

Geoffrey: Yeah, but it’s about how you perceive it, right? It’s unique. She did yours, didn’t she? What did yours say?

Nancy: Yeah, I um, don’t remember.

Geoffrey: Maybe you can ask her again. You two seem to hit it off.

Nancy: [huffs] Please. I am not going back to that shabby bar. She’s a sham. Those cards mean nothing. It’s stupid.

Geoffrey: [sighs]

Nancy: What?

Geoffrey: [blows raspberries]

Nancy Narrates: [Truth was, I was more curious than anything]

Nancy: So. Those cards. Could they...I don’t know- tell me something that could happen in a week? Like if I asked if I’ll pass my Statistics exam?

Nancy Narrates: [I was completely captivated by this otherworldly experience, whether I’d admit it outloud or not]

Nancy Narrates: [and Morgan was always happy to indulge me]

Nancy: [whispers] So I past my exam. How does this even work? I mean, how could they know? The cards. Could you do another reading after the debate?

Nancy Narrates: [But of all the questions I did ask, there was one that burned inside me more]

[heavy metal spills into the hallway]

Morgan: [startled] Nancy?

Nancy: Is this a bad time? I know it’s late...I can come back another time. I just have so much on my mind and I can’t sleep.

Morgan: You want another reading?

Nancy: Is that ok?

Morgan: Of course it is, Nancy. Come in.

Morgan: Sorry for all the smoke. I can open a window.

Knox: Babe, who’s this? It’s not my birthday.

Morgan: [smirks] Want me to get rid of him? I can.

Knox: Hey! I’ll be quiet! Won’t even know I’m here.

Nancy: I don’t mind. I just had a question.

Nancy: Could you do a reading for someone else, even if they’re not here?

Morgan: [hums] Not really...not without their permission or their intention. Who is this person to you?

Nancy: [looks away] Someone from my past. Someone I need to forget but- I can’t.

Morgan: Did this person hurt you?

Nancy: [shakes head] If anything, I hurt them. I ruined them with my... [lowly] um, perversions. I just need to know if they’re ok. If they hate me for it.

Morgan: [softly] I see... Here’s what we’ll do. Just like before, I’ll do a three card spread.

Morgan: Set your intention. Clear your mind. Ask your question. The first card is ‘you’. The middle card is ‘them’. The third card is the relationship.

Nancy Narrates: [‘Vanessa, do you hate me?’ ‘Do you blame me?’ ‘Do you regret loving me?’ ‘Do you know that I never stopped loving you?’]

Nancy Narrates: [‘Do you know that I’m sorry?’ ‘Do you know that I miss you?’ ‘Do you know that I need you?’]

Morgan: [exhales] It says... that you are a filled with love, Nancy, even though the world around you wants to drain you of it. There’s just too much of it inside of you and your friend-

Nancy: [weakly] Vanessa.

Morgan: [smiles] Vanessa. She loves you all the same. She may be experiencing her own hurt in this world, but having loved you keeps her strong. You two brought something bright and beautiful into each other’s lives.

Morgan: You can’t rid her from your life, because she’s apart of you, and...I- I think that’s a love worth fighting for, Nancy.

Nancy: [between gulps] Right. Right, thank you. Thanks, Morgan.

Morgan: Wait, Nancy, you don’t have to leave. It’s ok-

Nancy: It’s fine. I uh- I should go.

[door clicks shut]

Knox: Uhh, did you just make all that up?

Morgan: [weakly] I don’t know why I did that..

[lvnleah]

014. | meeting awfc

word count: 2k

find the masterlist here! :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

April 19th 2024 | 3 weeks old.

It had been three weeks since you’d given birth to Finley and those three weeks had flown by. They’d been three weeks of complete bliss despite the sleep deprivation and the countless diaper changes. Every time you looked at Finley, snuggled in your arms or peacefully asleep in the crib or on Leah’s chest, the exhaustion seemed to melt away. 

You admired every tiny feature, the soft curls of hair, the tiny fingers that wrapped around yours, and the way Finley's eyes would flicker open and gaze up at you and Leah. 

The house was now filled with the sounds of coos, cries, and a lot of mess. There were moments of panic when you weren't sure if you were doing everything right, especially during the night, but Leah was always there to reassure you things were just fine.  

“Do you think he’s still hungry?” You asked Leah as she burped him, “What if I’m not feeding him enough? What if he’s not getting enough from my breastmilk?”

Leah shook her head and laughed at your panicked state, “Pretty girl, he’s fine. He doesn’t want any more right now. Look at him, he's content." She gently patted Finley's back, bringing out a small burp that made you both laugh. "See? Just needed a good burp."

Nights were the hardest. The cycle of feeding, burping, and soothing seemed endless. Most nights, Finley just wanted to be held so that what you and Leah found yourselves doing. You’d take it in turns so each of you got a little bit of sleep but he loved sleeping on Leah’s chest the most. 

In those three weeks, your world had changed entirely. Despite the sleepless nights and the constant worry, you wouldn't trade a second of it. Leah’s family were your biggest supporters and were there anytime instantly when you needed them.  

You and Leah were slowly getting a routine together but each day was different. Today, however, was special and definitely different. It was Leah's first training session back with Arsenal since Finley's birth, and you were both excited and nervous.

Leah had been eagerly waiting for this day, and you decided to bring Finley along so the team could meet him.

“Do you have everything?” Leah asked. She was in her training gear, waiting by the door as she carried Finley in his car seat. 

“Diapers, wipes, bottles, extra clothes... I think we’re set,” you replied before crouching and adjusting Finley’s blanket as he squirmed slightly in his car seat. “He’s all bundled up and ready for his big debut.”

Leah smiled, “Let’s go then. The girls can’t wait to meet him.”

You’d both been a bit strict these past few weeks with who had met Finley, Leah being a bit more stricter. You’d kept the circle of people close, for the first two weeks it was just Leah’s parents and Jacob and then it eventually ventured out to her Grandma and a couple of her cousins.

In total he’d really only met around ten people so today was going to be a big day. You both felt ready and prepared for the girls to meet him. Two of Leah’s best friends, Keira and Georgia, were still yet to meet him but both of them were planning a trip over on a weekend they had off. 

You were a mix of excitement and nerves as you arrived at the training ground, Finley snug in his car seat. Leah carried the seat while you held the diaper bag, the two of you a perfect picture of new anxious parents. The clock had just struck ten, meaning Finley was due to wake up soon and that you’d have a solid hour before he would need to feed. 

As soon as you entered the reception area, Beth spotted you. Her face lit up with excitement as she rushed over.

“Y/N!” She smiled, engulfing you in a hug, “How are you?

You giggled at her excitement. “Tired but doing good!”

“Oh my goodness, look at him!” she exclaimed, crouching down to get a better look at Finley. “Can I hold him?”

Leah nodded, “Of course you can, he’s just woken up,” she smiled before crouching down to unstrap him. She kissed his temple, gently tapping his back as he stirred against her chest. 

“He’s so tiny!” Beth cooed, as Leah placed Finley in her arms, “Hi little guy! I’m your auntie Beffy,” she leaned closer before whispering, “I’ll be the one that gives you all the sweets then sends you home crazy with your mama’s!”

Viv stood a few feet away, looking at Finley with a mix of awe and nerves. “He’s so small,” she said, not daring to come closer. “I’m afraid I might break him.”

Beth laughed, “You won’t, Vivi, you’re an awkward tattie!”

Viv leaned in for a closer look but still kept her hands to herself, clearly nervous. A few seconds later Lia walked through the door, gasping when she saw Finley. 

“How are you both?” She asked you as she hugged Leah before moving onto you. 

Leah smiled tiredly, “We’re good, tired, but good because it’s all worth it.”

"Look at this little one!" Lia exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration. She approached Beth slowly, her hands reaching out and rubbing Finley’s fingers. "Can I?”

Leah nodded, her smile reassuring. "Of course. He's awake and in a good mood."

Lia carefully took Finley from Beth, her touch gentle. "Oh, he's just perfect. Hi there, little one," she cooed softly, rocking him gently in her arms. 

Next, Leah led you both to the changing room to set her stuff down. As soon as you walked in, Katie, Lotte, and Alessia stopped what they were doing, eager to meet the newest member of the family.

“Let me have a cuddle!” Katie insisted, gently taking Finley from Leah’s arms. She rocked him back and forth, her expression softening. “He’s gorgeous, you’ve got your Ma’s frown haven’t ya?”

“Oi!” Leah joked, her frown ironically on her face, “It’s just because he’s not able to smile yet.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, let’s see in about a year. He’ll still be doing it!”

Lotte was next to hold him, “Hi there, little guy,” she whispered, her spare hand playing with Finley’s tiny fingers. “You’re gonna be the coolest little gooner, aren’t you?”

Finally, Alessia had her turn, her touch gentle and careful. “Hi Finn,” she said softly, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re so adorable! Ella’s going to be so jealous I got to meet you before she did.”

After everyone had their cuddle, you moved on to the canteen. There, Kim, Victoria and Laura were sitting around a table. 

“Look who’s here!” Kim exclaimed, walking over to greet you. She was quick to engulf you in a hug. 

“How’re you doing?” She asked you, “Getting enough sleep? Recovering okay?”

You laughed at her motherly instincts, “I’m doing good. Yes and yes, I’m getting enough sleep with Leah’s help and recovery is going well. I’m lucky.”

“Do you want to hold him?” You asked, looking down at Finley who was awake in your arms. 

“I’d love to.” She smiled before she took Finley in her arms, her face lighting up. “He’s beautiful. Congratulations.”

Laura and Victoria took turns holding him, both excited. “He’s going to be a little heartbreaker,” Kim said, making everyone laugh.

Finally, you headed to the gym. There, Steph, Kyra and Caitlin were in the middle of a workout. As soon as they saw you, they stopped what they were doing and came around.

“Hey, look at this little cutie!” Steph said, as she approached you. 

“Oh he’s adorable!” Caitlin added, appearing at Steph’s side. 

Kyra grinned, “Aww, he’s so tiny. Can I hold him?”

You nodded, gently passing Finley over to her. “Sure, just make sure you support his head.”

“Be careful you don't drop him," Caitlin said, “He’s only tiny.”

Kyra took him carefully, cradling him in her arms with a gentle touch. “Hey there, buddy. Welcome to the team!” she cooed. “You know, you’re probably the first baby I’ve ever held without trying to get them to kick a football. I won’t try it because your Mumma kinda scares me…”

As Kyra rocked Finley gently, she added with a mischievous smile, “I’m just saying, if he’s anything like me, he’ll be scoring a few goals by the time he’s six.”

Steph rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, "Yeah right,"

Leah raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And how exactly do you plan to teach him that? What if he’s a defender.”

Kyra grinned. “Well, I could always give him a head start. Maybe I’ll teach him how to dribble before he can even walk.”

Everyone laughed, but Kyra wasn’t done. “Or, you know, we could use him as a new training technique. If he starts crying, that’s when you know the defence is slacking!”

Leah shook her head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous, Kyra. But I guess if Finley can handle your training methods, he’ll be just fine.”

Caitlin chuckled, "I wouldn't just trust her alone with him any time soon."

You nodded, “Definitely not.”

Kyra gasped as she handed Finley to Steph, “Oh my god! Can I hold him in that baby wrap thing or take him for a walk?!”

Leah chuckled, “Maybe when he’s a bit bigger,” she smiled, “He’s fussy in the carrier, he just wants to be held all the time.”

Eventually, Beth and Viv came back into the gym and Beth sneaked another cuddled. Viv, still feeling a bit hesitant, watched as Beth confidently held Finley and cooed over him.

Beth, holding Finley close, glanced at Viv with a grin. “Come on, Viv. He’s not made of glass. You can’t break him.”

Viv laughed nervously, her hands trembling slightly. “Okay, okay, I’ll give it a try.”

Viv slowly reached out and took Finley from Beth’s arms. Her eyes softened as she gently cradled him. “Oh, look at you, klein,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe. Finley blinked up at her, his tiny hand opening to clutch her finger. 

Viv settled into a more comfortable hold. “I think he’s fallen asleep,” she said softly, noticing Finley’s eyelids fluttering shut. “He’s so peaceful.”

Beth chuckled from beside her. “See? I told you he’s not going to break. He’s just a sleepy little guy.”

Viv, her nerves eased, smiled at Beth. “He’s cute.”

“Y’know a baby suits you two.” Leah nodded, laughing at them as they doted over Finley.”

Beth shook her head, “I think we’ll just stick to Myle for now, neither of us are ready to be parents!”

After a while, Finley began to stir, his tiny face scrunching up as he let out a soft cry. Viv was quick to hand him back to you. You and Leah exchanged a knowing look.

“Time for a feed,” you giggled, gently taking Finley from Viv’s arms.

Leah led the way to a quieter room nearby, you settled into a comfortable chair. Finley was quick to start feeding, your hand rubbed over his tiny bit of blonde hair. Leah sat beside you, your spare hand in hers. 

“You’re doing great, you know,” Leah whispered, placing a kiss on your temple. 

“So are you,” you replied. “Everyone loves Finley, start of the show.”

Leah smiled, watching Finley. “He’s already got a whole team of aunties who adore him. He’s going to be so spoiled.”

As Finley finished feeding and drifted back to sleep in your arms, Leah glanced at her watch. “I should get ready. Training starts in a bit.”

You nodded, standing up carefully to not wake Finley. “I’ll come watch, if he wakes up I’ll just take him for a walk.”

Leah grinned, kissing both you and Finley before heading off to join her teammates. You made your way back to the training grounds, finding a quiet spot to sit and watch the session. Finley stayed asleep in your arms, his tiny arms moving every now and then. 

The hours flew by, and before you knew it, the training session was over. Leah jogged over, slightly out of breath but beaming with pride. “How did we do?” she asked, leaning in to kiss you.

“You were amazing,” you replied, smiling up at her. “Finley’s your biggest fan.”

Leah laughed, taking a now awake Finley into her arms. “Well I wouldn’t have it be anyone else.”

[verstappentime]

divorce verse for your wednesday <3 this is from after max & dan break up. (the rest of this verse is here) (the scene previous to this will get finished but this is what i have today <3) The first night Daniel’s gone, Max walks into a fucking wall trying to go to the bathroom.

It’s happened before, because his depth perception is awful and worse in the dark and worse sometimes than others, but usually he hits knee-first or something. Nope, just a wall right to the orbital bone. 

It’s not something Daniel could have saved him from, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Daniel’s not there to be woken up by his cursing a blue streak and ask if he’s alright, to sit him down and put ice on it and make him feel less pathetic.

His head is throbbing, in a normal person kind of way. He’s going to have a massive goose egg. He finally gets to the light switch, very, very carefully, and tempts himself to go down the hall with the promise of crying about it afterward.

It’s easier, with the bedroom light illuminating the way. He makes it there and back okay. 

He needs to not call Daniel, but he’s groggy and worked up and he gets confused at night and– he’s just going to lose it if he can’t talk to someone. 

Daniel picks up on the first ring. He must still have Max excluded from do not disturb. Must be sleeping with the ringer on.

“I walked into the wall,” he says, before Daniel can get anything out. 

“What?” He can hear Daniel sitting up, sheets rustling. He should be scolding Max for calling in the middle of the night. He doesn’t. “Are you hurt?” 

“I hit my head. Or, like, my face. Both.” Max touches where the bruise is forming on his head. He kind of forgot what hurt that’s not coming from the inside feels like. He pokes it again. He’s lucky he hit on bone, probably, and that it wasn’t a corner and he’s not bleeding. “I don’t know,” he says, voice cracking. 

“Okay.” Daniel’s all calm. This kind of stuff never bothers him. Max wants him to be here. “You sound alright. You weren’t, like, running, right? Do you have a headache?”  “No. I think– I think I am okay.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, just to see how bad it hurts. “This is shit, Daniel.”

“We need to get you some of those lights you can turn on with your voice, yeah? I’ll look in the morning.” We. He’s going to have to stop that. Not right now.

“I can– I’ll do it.” 

“I’ll remind you, then. What do you want to do right now?” 

“I don’t know,” Max says again. “I don’t want to get up again.” He presses his knuckles to his teeth, something awful in his chest. “I feel shit that I called you already.” 

“I don’t care. It’s good you did. I was scared that you wouldn’t. Makes me feel better.” Daniel pauses. “Not that I’m like, glad you walked into a wall.” 

“It sounds very stupid when you say it out loud.” He knows it’s his fault, but he can’t help it: “What am I going to do? Just call you always?” 

“You can, baby.” Daniel never tells him no. Daniel let him leave because he never tells him no. “You have other people, though. They’ll be happy to answer. You can call your mum or Victoria or Charles. But also me, if you want to.” 

Max wants Daniel to tell him that’s unfair. But the idea of being cut off from the only person that really knows what it’s like for him makes him want to throw up. Charles would laugh at him for this one, even though he wouldn’t mean to. Max says, “I think I want to go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea. You want me to stay on?” 

“No. That will be very boring for you.” Max lays down, turning over on his side, his back to where Daniel should be. “Are you sleeping too?” 

“Yeah, Maxy, I’m going to.” 

“Okay. Then we will both go to sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Daniel says, all gentle. “I’m going to text you tomorrow, okay? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me after that. But I’ll remind you about the lights and ask about your face.” 

“That’s fine.” He can’t know if he’ll remember, and he really does not want this to happen again, and– and now he knows for sure he’ll hear from Daniel tomorrow. 

There’s a beat where neither of them know what to say, but Daniel’s the bravest and he says, “I love you. Goodnight.” 

“I– Me too, Daniel.” He can’t lie. Not about that.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Ch 10 part 1

masterpost

“Tyranny!” Damian bellowed. His little face was red with fury.

Cass crossed her arms and nodded agreement. She was not accepting any more changes to her life at this time. Things were already happening, too much.

“Nevertheless,” said cruel Batdad. “The pediatric nutritionist will be here tomorrow.” He was trying very hard to seem composed and unaffected by their upset. But he was affected. So affected. And yet he persisted on traveling down the wrong path.

Cass hissed.

Their natural ally, Alfred, put his nose up a little as he cleared the dinner dishes. He sniffed as he left, unhappy-stiff. Cass did not know how he had been defeated. Food was his domain, not some interloper with a pathetic weepy Doctorate of nutritional sciences.

“He designs the meal plans for child Olympians,” Batdad coaxed. He wanted them to like him soooo much. “Standard advice is not necessarily very useful for extreme athletes. You might feel better afterwards. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Gentle, gentle, pleading.

No!!!

Damian stabbed his fork upright into his cinnamon roll and pointed an index finger at their tormentor. “I will not submit. I consume an adequately varied and nutritious diet. Whatever your true aims are, I will not be moved.”

Cass scarfed down her own dessert messily, scowling at Batdad the whole time as if to say: come and take it from me. Can you? You can’t.

Duke watched this with clever eyes darting between Batdad and his siblings. His body said: I don’t care. But I won’t pick Bruce publicly. What can I get? Can I make trouble? 

Hmm. Cass didn’t like that. She narrowed her eyes at him. He should philosophically agree with their cause. She was going to crawl under his bed and hiss, scary sounds to wake him up and go BOO. 

She made a mental note to do that before patrol tonight. If she could even fit it in, jeeze.

Ugh. So busy. Always so much to do.

The tension was high when they trooped to the cave for briefing, before Duke went to bed and everyone else took their pre-patrol nap. Cass lingered sullenly because she wanted to hear Duke’s report on the mechanic. Jacqueline’s apartment had been sneakily snuck through. The conclusion?

“There’s a lot of work clothes in the apartment, but no tools or anything like that. No references or books, aside from a couple of ones from the university library.” Duke fidgeted, micromovement. Not an interesting report. Not an enjoyable detour. “There’s no indication as to what she’s been working on. I took DNA samples off some dirty dishes and hair off the sofa. They’re filed for processing.”

Disappointing. The next step was unclear. Cass frowned. Should they try to observe again? Wait for Jacqueline to leave her lair and follow? Perhaps they should enter the apartment and lurk, ask questions. Tell her: We know your criminal associations. Stop it. Stop it, Jacqueline.

Damian stuck his lips out. He would say: This is not a pout, Cain.

It was a pout.

“I see.” Timbird took notes, fingers flying. Tap tap tap. “You’re passing the case back?”

“It’s all yours,” he said, nodding to Damian. Babybat nodded solemnly. My responsibility. He looked at her. Cass nodded: I have your bat-back. Let’s creep on Jacqueline, as a family.

Hmm. It was too quiet. Usually, there was Batdad commentary. She snuck a look at him even though she and Damian were ignoring him for his cruelties.

Batdad was pondering. He was paying enough attention, but his mind was on something else. Hmm. Cass prodded him. “Ah- Tim, did you upload your conclusions about the Amity Park case?”

Oh. Cass kept her body still, letting it say: I’m bored, I don’t care.

Timbird sighed and ruffled his hair. The gel made a little crackle sound. “It’s a massive government coverup,” he said. Unhappy. “I think a few residents fled, but it looks like it was a mass murder of the residents. The tank tracks came from a subdivision called the GIW, which is ridiculously over militarized.” He opened a file on one of the many Batcomputer screens. It showed a complex of buildings, taken from above. Superboy photography? “They’re doing weapons development, and it appears to be based on the designs of local scientists, also missing.”

“These scientists were affiliated with the GIW?” Batdad asked.

Tim shrugged. “Unclear.” His mouth twitched, unhappy. “There’s evidence of some collaboration, but it seemed a relatively normal exchange of information. Now, the GIW appears to have all their patented inventions and is replicating them.”

“So either these scientists are on staff or they have been removed,” Damibat scowled. A grumpy line formed between his eyebrows. So cute. 

“Removed?” Duke repeated, amused.

“From this mortal coil,” Damibat repeated. Impatient. Keep up, Thomas.  Haha. Cass sniggered and stuck her tongue out. Yeah. Keep up, Duke.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 90)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (68) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (23)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((3.4k))

Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter bi-weekly, every Thursday and Sunday night until we hit Part 100!

YFN POV

“For someone so independent, you’re very needy,” Jordan chuckled.

YFN pouted, looking at her watch again. “They’ve been gone all fucking day. Surely that’s a bad thing?”

The slightly smaller woman shrugged. “Not necessarily. I mean, what if they’re just tying everything up with a pretty bow to make sure that it’s all sorted today? With both Lucy and Leah speaking, and then our testimonials, along with Ridley and Alexia, and your injury report, surely that’s enough to have Kristie locked up for the foreseeable future.”

Kristie. She never wanted to hear that name again. Lucy had no intention of letting her be in the same room as her, and Leah had offered to go as a character witness, knowing that her fame would make them realise how important of a case it was.

Jordan reached out and squeezed her hand. “It should be an open and shut case. Especially seeing as you didn’t want to go for the harshest punishment.”

“I just didn’t want her doing it to anyone else. She needed to know it was wrong.”

“Some jail time and community service will definitely get the message across.”

“And restraining orders…” she murmured. That had been Lucy’s non-negotiable.

“Leah there is going to throw a spanner in the works too. Her platform is massive. No one in their right mind will want her publicly speaking about how Kristie got away with her friends being stalked and then assaulted to the point of this.”

She gestured to YFN sitting up in the hospital bed.

She squeezed her hand. “Thanks for being here, Dory.”

Jordan’s little smile took over from her serious, friend look. “Of course, mate. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

A few minutes later Lucy’s doctor returned, or rather, her doctor too.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” he said as he stood next to her bed with a gentle smile. He was one of those men that you were always comfortable around. The benevolent type. “The scans are good - better than I expected given your… history.” Another smile, though this one was sympathetic. “Would you like the good news or the very good news first?”

She felt herself let go of tension she didn’t realise she’d been holding.

“Save the best for last.”

“Very well.” He put the scans up on the light box and pointed to her collarbone. “The second surgery went well. The screws are holding, though I’m afraid I need you in the sling to keep it immobile for the next 4 weeks or so..”

She sighed, though knew it was the case. Her Christmas was officially in a sling.

He continued. “Unless there’s an incident, or any issues with pain, I won’t need to give it a check-up until just prior to Christmas, and then I’m hoping to have you out of it for the new year.”

She smiled and nodded. “Well, that’s positive…”

He moved onto the next two x-rays. “Your forearm and wrist are healing well, though I’m afraid the cast will need to remain on for the next 6-8 weeks. We’ll give you a check-up when we get rid of the sling. Your jaw is also healing nicely, I know the bruising has been persistent, but expect it to be gone in the next week or so..”

“I can handle the cast,” she chuckled. “My shoulder is just in need of a good movement.”

She’d just wanted to swing her arm around, to roll her shoulder, instead of having it stuck where it was. It was a level of frustrating that bordered on pain.

“There are a few small massages that you can do to help, though you’ll need to be quite gentle with them, and careful not to shift your collarbone too much.”

He handed her a sheet with the exercises.

“Lucy can help with these. Any issues, give me a call.”

“Thank you,” she replied, gratefully. She was always grateful at the opportunity for Lucy to touch her more.

Jordan took the sheet interestedly and looked over it.

“Now onto your ribs. They’ve been thrown around a bit…” he looked at her with eyebrows raised and she blushed, knowing full well that she’d been abusing them a little too much with Lucy. “…which I understand.” He was politely giving her an out. “You already had several past injuries and you’re very limited with your movements given your state, and so it’s understandable that your ribs are catching the brunt of it. Though, you’ll need to be more mindful. No overexertion. No twisting yourself. No…excessive movements.”

To his credit, he did seem entertained by it.

“I think you should call Lucy and tell her that directly,” Jordan joked.

YFN’s mouth dropped open, though he and Jordan shared a good chuckle at her expense. She made a mental note to not tell Lucy so that she didn’t lose any part of her sex life.

“Now onto your kneecap…”

She braced herself for bad news, but how could it be, when he’d said the worst of it first?

“It was only ever a minor crack, however I wanted you to keep your full weight off of it as you can’t exactly use crutches. I’m going to keep the brace on, however you can walk on it again.”

She grinned – her first thought being that Lucy was going to be so happy. She could picture her face lighting up now.

“Now don’t overdo it. Don’t put all of your weight onto it at once. Place your foot on the ground and ease your weight onto it. It’s a slow process, but you need to build that habit up so you’re not overdoing it. The brace will be on for another few weeks, and I’m hoping to take it off just before Christmas.”

No brace for Christmas. Lucy was going to be thrilled.

“Hoping…” he said again, making sure she understood that it was only a possibility at this stage. “…and you can take the brace off for showers now, just don’t put all of your weight on it in the shower.”

No more garbage bags. She nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”

They finished up with him, getting her scripts for medication and some more information. Lucy, ever the anatomy fanatic, would want to know every detail possible. Especially because it was her.

She walked slowly to the car, relished the feel of being able to use her legs like legs again. She was officially The Little Mermaid.

She groaned the relief for her hips and lower back as she did so, knowing this would take a lot of strain from Lucy needing to carry her around.

She slipped into Miles, Lucy’s car, and Jordan slipped into the driver’s seat. The footballers had taken Leah’s Mercedes as it was lower to get into and Lucy hadn’t wanted her dropping into the seat and struggling to get out.

It was later in the afternoon now, and she looked at the time, wondering why it was all taking so long.

“Celebration dinner?” Jordan asked.

“Why do I feel like you all had this planned already?”

“Maybe. You know Lucy…”

“Has she messaged you?!” She looked over at Jordan who seemed to barely be able to see over the steering wheel. She gave a sympathetic smile. “No, sorry. But the table is still booked, so maybe we should see if they make it? I would suggest Katie and Caitlin but they’re not in town. Most of the girls are with their international squads. We can ask Alex but Jill is in Manchester. There’s a few other’s in town.. LJ and Keira, maybe?”

“Oh, that’s an idea!”

Jordan gave them both a call. LJ wasn’t available, however Keira and Georgia were. They met them at the Italian restaurant Lucy had booked and made a night of it. The girls joked about how they’d be in trouble if they were caught eating carbs when they were in season, though YFN had convinced them that they’d deserved it after their hard fought victory over the Netherlands. The more she got to know Keira, the more she got along with her. She opened up slowly, though at the end of the day, they both thought similarly, and had a similar sense of humour.

It was also one of the first times she’d been close and in intimate conversation with Georgia since she’d caught the first kiss between her and Lucy. They spoke about the game, Scotland, how much they needed to win by, Lumos and the interviews. The three footballers had a good catch up now that they all played for different teams, and they saw less of Jordan.

The two opted to skip dessert as they’d apparently already been too bad, though once they saw Jordan and YFN’s desserts, they couldn’t help but try a taste.

When their dinner was ending, she checked her phone and her stomach sank.

“Still nothing?” Jordan asked, seeing her reaction.

She gave a sigh. “No. You?”

She shook her head.

“Doesn’t usually take this long, surely?” Georgia asked. “What, are they hand delivering her to jail?”

“There must be a good reason…” Keira comforted. “Either way, we have time to do the interview if you want?”

They were being efficient, with Keira offering at dinner to come over and do the couch interview that YFN had suggested was best to ease the ‘Wonze’ fanatics of the internet. She still didn’t know Keira well, though she could see that she’d offered partly because not only did she want to get it over and done with, as she hated interviews, but she knew YFN needed a distraction from the current legal situation that Lucy and Leah were tied up in. She called Bridget and Emily to see if they were available last minute for the interview. They were more than eager, as she knew they would be, though still offered them extra pay for the inconvenience.

After dinner, they made their way to Lucy’s and settled in, Bridget and Emily setting up for the interview while she ran through queries with Keira prior to it.

“Did you read the questions and prompts I sent..?”

She hadn’t expected her to, as the interview wasn’t supposed to take place until later in the month, however things seemed to be working this way for her for some reason.

Keira nodded, asking questions and YFN couldn’t help but be impressed at her eye for detail.

She’d said that Jordan and Georgia didn’t have to stay, but they’d insisted, wanting to catch up on lost time.

The interview went for just over an hour, though it was exactly what she’d wanted. Keira had not been tense at all, and she was proud of herself for creating such an environment. To be fair, she even felt like she’d flirted with her a little, which had surprised the Australian. She’d never seen an interview with Keira so comfortable before. Hopefully that would suppress the ‘Wonze’ fanatics who’d been sending her so much hate on social media.

Keira took photos for their interview, while she answered Georgia’s questions about the content process. She had very little content outside of the Lionesses as she played at Bayern Munich and they weren’t exactly known for their social media. They didn’t have time for another interview that night as the girls had training the next day before flying out to Scotland, and needed to get rest.

They all left, though Jordan stayed with her. She looked at her watch as they walked out of the door. 8pm. She hadn’t heard from Lucy since 7am.

She sighed, dropping her hand in defeat. Jordan gave her a cuddle. “They’ll be home soon..”

She cuddled into her friend, allowing herself to relax when her phone buzzed. She jumped immediately and grimaced at the pain that shot through her body as she grabbed for her phone.

Joe calling…

At this time of night?

“Hey, Joe,” she answered, feeling awkward calling her that.

“Hello, YFN. How are you?” Her voice sounded as soft and regally calm as ever. It was comforting to her.

“I’m doing well. It’s late – is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes. I was calling to check in on the hearing today. Did it go well?”

She wondered if she’d used any of her influence to help the situation. Her voice suggested that perhaps she had, though just a little.

“Luce and Leah aren’t home yet. They’ve been gone for over 13 hours.”

“I see. It’s not unusual, though. I’d like an update when they’re done, please. I need to make sure this is all wrapped up so that you’re safe.”

Seeing as you don’t want the security team I offered, she could practically hear her saying. Catherine was worried about her, which made her feel loved. She’d never had that from a mother figure beyond her grandma. Her heart softened.

“Thank you…” she said, gratefully. “I’ll let you know when I know. Also, I had a check up today. Everything is healing well, and I can now walk, albeit gently.”

“I read the report you sent through,” YFN could hear the smile in her voice. “I was very happy to read that. Hopefully you can be moving a bit more freely by the new year.”

“Fingers crossed!”

She gave a light laugh. “Mine certainly are. Now, I was thinking about the Gala event this week that Lucy and Alessia are doing this week. We’re a bit on the back foot with everything since there’s so much going on, however I was hoping that the timing will work out to have our own Lumos event this week, on Friday or Saturday perhaps. Do you think we could get any high profile players in that time?”

“How many were you thinking?”

“Ten maximum. I don’t want the focus to be lost if there are too many.”

“Well, Lucy will be with me for a little before headed back to Barca. Most girls will be back with their teams by then. I think I can get Jordan Nobbs, Leah Williamson, potentially any players from the WSL, and also perhaps… perhaps…”

“Perhaps?”

She pondered. “Perhaps… Alexia. That’s a big maybe, though.”

“Alexia would be the white whale, if we could get her on. Otherwise, it sounds great. Perhaps some other nationalities too, if you can?”

“Coaches too?” She asked, trying to think who would be available at a moment’s notice. “I could ask Sarina. Emma. I could get Caitlin for Australia, Katie for Ireland, Yui for Japan, Ashley for Canada, or similar if they're not available?”

“Brilliant. I do hate to drop this on you last minute, though I have been wanting to get it done before the rush prior to Christmas. If you could look through availability and give me a date and names, I’ll work on booking a location for Friday or Saturday so we can start promoting it.”

“Consider it done.”

“Thank you, YFN. About tomorrow night, I have a location to meet. I’m assuming Lucy will be coming also?”

“I think Leah and Jordan have a right to be there too.”

She could practically hear her nodding. “I’ve sent the location and time to Mark. I have an aircraft departing at night for you. I’ll put you all on the manifest. You may need to clear it with the Lioness management.”

“Leah will handle that…”

“Perfect. I’ll send you the flight details.”

“Cath-” She cut herself off. “Are you sure about this?”

“There’s only so much hiding I can do. This is an unnecessary evil, unfortunately. You’ve been through too much already. I won’t have you fighting him too. I’m hoping to finish this once and for all with him tomorrow night, though from then on, my intention is still to be the silent partner while you are the face of Lumos. Has anything changed for you in regards to that?”

The empathy in her voice had YFN feeling comfortable. Comfortable enough that she could have said no, and Catherine would have accepted it without question.

“Nothing has changed on my end. I’m just very eager to get us onto a schedule where I’m not chasing my tail with interviews and events.” She chuckled. Catherine shared in her chuckle.

“Oh, I know. I’ve been hoping the exact same. It’s good to hear we’re on the same page, though. We’ll speak more tomorrow night. Until then – keep me posted on the hearing and anything you need at all, let me know.”

YFN and Jordan fell asleep on the couch, their feet overlapping under the blanket they shared as their heads were at opposite ends. She wasn’t sure how long she slept for, however she was woken by a warm kiss to the cheek and Lucy’s deep, comforting voice. “I’m here, little one. Everything’s okay.”

“Luce?” She mumbled, half asleep. She opened one eye, followed drearily by the other as she looked at her favourite person. Her expression was peaceful, which calmed the Australian.

She looked down at Jordan who was sitting up with Leah next to her, the two talking quietly. She looked back at Lucy.

“What happened?”

“It’s done, little one.”

She tried to prop herself up, and Lucy helped her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to pull her up into a sitting position. “It took that long?”

“The incident happened in Spain, so we were delayed due to that, however someone pulled some strings for us.” Catherine. Lucy gave her a knowing look. “Without her, this would have been dragged out for weeks.”

“It’s done?”

She nodded as she reached out to stroke the yellowing bruises on her jaw. “Jail time for a period. Community service for the rest, as you didn’t want her to be stuck in there for the maximum time. Restraining orders for life. She won’t be attending any games in the future. And she apologised. It’s done.”

“She…apologised?”

“Mainly to me, but yes. She cried a lot.”

“That must have been hard…”

“Yes and no. I don’t like seeing someone upset, but she did hurt the person I love so… my empathy was not there for her. I’m just happy it’s all over.” She leant forward and gave her a soft kiss on the temple. “What did you two get up to, love?”

“We had dinner with Keira and Georgia,” Jordan said from across the couch.

Leah gave YFN a smile. She looked tired.

Lucy was caught off guard. “Oh?”

“It was great,” she reassured, putting her hand under the collar of her shirt, and on that strong collarbone of hers. “I did my couch interview with Keira after it.”

Lucy looked impressed, though like she had questions for when they were alone. She didn’t blame her.

“And?” Jordan prompted.

“Oh! And Lumos wants to host a public event with 10 female footballers in London this Friday or Saturday. Are you all free?”

“You know I am,” Lucy murmured, leaning her head against hers.

“I’ll be in town.” Leah answered.

“You already know I’m in.” Jordan agreed, looking at Leah. YFN hadn’t realised until just then that it must have been a while since they’d done something like that together in public.

“And I messaged Riddles, hoping to get Alexia if she’s back in town…”

“Mmn. I’m sure it’ll all be perfect. You’re good at the last minute organising,” Lucy teased.

She rolled her eyes. “And whose fault is that?”

She gave an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I do wonder how the doctor went today? I have an email titled: ‘No funny business.’”

Jordan cackled. Actually cackled. YFN blushed, a little embarrassed and frustrated that she had to tell her. Lucy didn’t understand. Bless her, she was incredibly smart, though a lot less quick for these types of situations.

“Everything is healing well apart from my…ah…ribs. They’ve not been having the rest they should.”

“I believe he said they’ve been ‘thrown around a bit’…” Jordan offered.

Lucy clicked and gave a guilty look. Before she could speak, YFN jumped in, trying to distract her with ten different things to keep her mind away from limiting sex with her.

“But everything else is healing well… hoping to be out of the sling by the new year and the knee brace by Christmas. Also, I can officially walk.” She gave a proud smile. “No more looking for the wheelchair in Scotland, Luce. I’ll be the one-armed flamingo with the Australian flag.”

[machveil]

Trying not to think about Simon 'Always Doing Acts of Service and Caring for Others Silently' Ghost Riley forgetting to care for himself as much, and how it would probably touch a part of his heart he thought wasn't there anymore if someone did the same for him. Something simple, like just a new jacket after his old one got wrecked from wear and tear, that's thick and durable but soft and comfortable, a nice weight on his shoulders but doesn't make him sweat, resting over his chair. Or after a long day of work where he's dragging himself along, finding a meal already made for him sitting in the fridge, something actually cooked and seasoned the way he likes so he doesn't have to think about cooking or go to bed on an empty stomach. Idk, this has been rattling around in my brain all day and I needed to get it out, sorry if this is weird! Also really like your art and writing, congrats on the 1k, you deserve it and so much more!

anon I’m smooching your big, beautiful brain (I wrote this in one sitting, hope it’s not terrible lol)

Simon Riley is a man of action - Ghost, the most literal manifestation of serving. Ghost follows and gives orders to assure his team, his friends, make it home safe at the end of a deployment. as a Lieutenant, Simon wouldn’t say it out loud, but he cares so deeply for his team. Task Force 141 is a second home to him, more so the people, and thus makes it his job to protect them

but Simon Riley is also a man of action off duty - a civilian who’s heart rests in your hands. loyal as a dog, Simon would do anything for you. a man of action, he’ll insist you relax, you shouldn’t lift a finger for something small. anything Simon can do in your stead he will. because, while his team is a second home, his true home is you

but Simon, stubborn and strong as he is, gets tired. front door clicking shut, mask already being tugged off, his muscles are tense and sore after a long day. dirty blond hair messy and eyes half lidded with exhaustion, he’s still only got one thing on his mind - to serve you and make you happy. he already planned on trudging into the kitchen to make dinner, something simple but filling. he pauses when he smells food already though

kicking his boots off, worn and dirty, he makes his way to the little kitchen around the corner. cracking a small, barely there smile at the sight in front of him. you, moving about the kitchen. the lights a little dim - he’d change the lightbulb later, and there you are, cooking a meal. one step ahead of him, and he soaks in the domestic scene. a part of him wants to step in, tell you you’ve done enough and he’ll finish everything off… but he doesn’t have the heart to disrupt this cozy, intimate moment

it’s only when you see him does he approach, hands a touch too rough and calloused - he’s sure you’ll make him moisturize later. “Smells nice, lovie.”, he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hairline. eyes fluttering shut as he holds your hands, a small grin tugs at his lips, “S‘pose the food smells good too.”. he relishes in the laugh that leaves you, the way you squeeze his hands. he moves to press a kiss to your jaw, slightly crooked nose nudging against you as his hands wander to your hips - touch featherlight, as if handling you any rougher might shatter you

there’s a reluctance in his heart as he lets go of you, scoffing when you tell him to go sit down. “Bossy little thing.”, he mumbles, voice lighthearted as he leans back against a counter. he stays there for just a moment, one last glance at you happily cooking - cooking for him. it melts his heart knowing that you’re just a loyal as him, that you’d both run to the ends of the Earth for each other

he’s content to finally relax, leaving the kitchen to slump against a chair in the small dining room. head tilted back a little as he rolls his shoulders, his hands move to idly take his belt off - he’d change later, a hot shower after dinner always made him feel better. maybe he’d convince you to join him, better yet— maybe he’d convince himself to indulge in a hot bath instead. and when you join him at the table, sitting down next to him with a full plate for him, Simon feels butterflies in his stomach

he loves eating with you, sharing a meal and letting his guard down. gaze smitten as he listens to you recount your day, breathing steady as he hums. and when everything is done, stubborn man, he’ll take the dishes to the kitchen. as much as he’d like to wash them straight away, he settles for leaving them in the sink tonight. soon enough he’s sweeping you up in his arms - no matter how roughed up and sore he is, he always finds the strength to carry you. he’ll ignore any protest that, “Simon! I can walk—“, a gruff chuckle rumbling in his chest, “Know that, love, but I can carry you just fine.”

and from then on, Simon feels like he’s floating. in a dreamlike state, he sets you down on the cool bathroom floor, feet making contact with tile. gently thumbing at your hips, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, “Thank you.”. soft spoken words contrasting his gravely voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek - lips a little chapped, but he’s never heard you complain about them

and when you help each other slowly strip, the bathroom filling with mist like steam, he feels the tension in his muscles give. he puts up a little fight, grumbled words, when you insist on sudsing him up. he’s all bark though, when he feels you rub his aching shoulders he feels like he could never muster up any bite ever agiain. comfortable and turning to putty in your hands, he’ll happily let you mould him into a soft, gentle man

he’ll lazily return the favor, rough hands lathered in your body wash. content. feeling you under his palms, warm skin dotted with beads of water and bubbles, Simon’s content. a warmth in his chest that he’s still not used to. the simple intimacy of washing away the sweat and filth from the day, it makes Simon feel like a new man - and to wash you? he’s happy you feel safe enough, that you trust him, to handle you so carefully

and at the end of the night, cleaned from the dirt of his daily life, Simon settles in bed with you. all gentle touches and soft, murmured praise - you did so good for him today. he fights the back of his mind off, you’ve taught him better than to believe those gnawing words. Simon Riley deserves this. a phrase you carved into his heart, long since settled at the forefront of his mind. and as he holds you to his chest, warm hand on the small of your back, he sighs deeply…

a man of action deserves rest