#but I’m proud of what I’ve got now at least :)

[banzonism]

WE FOUND LOVE (In a Hopeless Place)

one-shot story

pairing: ceo!jk x fashion model!reader

genre: romance, fluff, drama, comedy, slight enemies to lover, friends to lovers

synopsis: In a string of chance encounters, two people from wildly different worlds, find themselves inexplicably drawn to one another. Maybe the universe has been orchestrating something all along. In a swirl of laughter, longing, and love, they begin to wonder if they’ve finally found what they didn’t even know they were searching for. The beauty of emerging from brokenness, love blossoming in the least expected circumstances, proving that sometimes, even in the most hopeless places, love has a way of finding you.

words count: 8.6k

notes: this is my first one shot jjk ff ahhh i've been thinking about this plot for a while bc of that one jungkook pic above hehe anyway enjoy reading <3

Las Vegas.

Being a fashion model is a balancing act. It’s not just about walking runways or posing for editorial spreads. It’s late nights rehearsing a flawless walk, early mornings enduring hours of hair and makeup, and constant flights between fashion capitals. I’m not a household name like some models, I’ve made my mark. Campaigns for high-end brands, covers on major fashion magazines, and being a regular on exclusive runways have earned me recognition. My career is steady—not overwhelming but enough to keep me in rooms where champagne flows freely and the conversation sparkles.

Tonight was one of those nights.

I had been invited by Jung Hoseok, a longtime friend and one of the most talented designers I know, to celebrate his latest collection's success. The show had been a triumph, and I was one of the faces of his collection, walking the Vegas runway in his stunning designs. His exclusive afterparty was being held at a swanky bar—one of those places where entry was practically currency itself.

I smoothed the fabric of my dress, a slinky black piece by Versace, clinging to me in all the right places. Its thigh-high slit revealed just enough leg to make heads turn without screaming trying too hard. My hair fell effortlessly in soft waves, and my Louboutin heels clicked against the pavement as I arrived.

The air was electric when I walked in. Crystal chandeliers hung like jewels from the ceiling, the bar gleamed under dim lights, and the room buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses. Hoseok, in his signature vibrant suit, caught sight of me and immediately waved me over.

“Y/N!” he beamed, pulling me into a hug. “You look stunning as always.”

“Thank you! And congratulations, Hobi. The show was incredible,” I said earnestly. “Every single piece was a masterpiece. You’ve outdone yourself.”

His grin widened. “You’re too kind, but coming from you, it means the world.”

We settled into easy conversation, sipping on champagne as the night unfolded. Hoseok glowed with pride—not just from the success of his show, but also from something more personal. I raised an eyebrow when he let slip he’d been in a healthy relationship.

“Six months, huh?” I teased. “That’s practically married in fashion industry terms!”

He laughed, his grin wide. “I know, right? But she’s amazing. Keeps me grounded, calls me out when I’m being too extra—which is all the time, obviously.”

I smirked, leaning back in my chair. “That’s got to be the longest relationship you’ve ever had, right? Should we celebrate that too?”

Hoseok gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like I’d just wounded him. “Excuse me! I’ll have you know I’ve had plenty of long relationships!”

“Oh, really? Name one.” I raised an eyebrow, thoroughly enjoying his flustered expression.

“Well…” He paused, clearly scrambling. “There was… uh…”

“That’s what I thought.” I laughed, shaking my head. “It’s okay, Hobi. We’re all proud of you for finally breaking your three-month streak.”

“You’re impossible,” he grumbled, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Maybe I should start giving you relationship advice now, since I’m apparently the expert.”

“Oh, please,” I snorted. “You’re one more text away from being whipped, and we both know it.”

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, holding his hands up. “When are you going to get yourself a man? I’m going to find you someone tonight.”

“Good luck with that,” I muttered, taking another sip of champagne.

“No, I’m serious!” Hoseok leaned in conspiratorially. “You’re gorgeous, successful, and you have taste. What’s the holdup?”

“It’s not that simple,” I replied, sipping my champagne.

“Then let’s make it simple. Tonight’s mission: find Y/N a man,” he declared, clapping his hands together.

“Absolutely not,” I said, laughing.

“Too late. It’s happening.”

He scanned the crowd dramatically, his finger wagging like a radar. “Alright, what about him?”

I followed his gaze to a tall guy nursing a whiskey at the bar. “Probably taken.”

Hoseok squinted. “How can you possibly tell?”

“Look at his hand,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes zeroed in, and then he groaned. “Oh a ring? Seriously? Why do the good ones always come pre-owned?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Because they’ve been snatched up by people who don’t need their friend matchmaking at parties.”

“Rude,” Hoseok shot back, feigning offense. “I’m doing God’s work here.”

“That guy in the navy suit?”

“Too old.”

“Alright, what about tall and brooding over there?”

“Not my type.”

Hoseok sighed theatrically. “You’re impossible.”

Before I could retort, a shift in the room’s energy caught my attention. The chatter quieted for a moment, heads turned, and the air thickened with a sense of presence. That’s when I saw him.

He stood at the entrance, effortlessly commanding attention in a tailored black suit that hugged his frame perfectly. His dark hair was slicked back, a single strand rebelliously falling onto his forehead. His sharp jawline and piercing gaze were enough to make anyone look twice—or three times.

“Wow,” Hoseok whispered beside me, fanning himself. “Now that’s a head-turner.”

I couldn’t disagree. The man was magnetic in a way few people were.

“Oh, you’re blushing,” Hoseok teased, nudging me.

“I am not!” I protested, though my cheeks betrayed me.

“You are. And you know what this means,” he said, grinning mischievously.

“What?”

“You’re going to talk to him.”

I laughed nervously. “Absolutely not.”

“Y/N, come on! Look at him. This is fate handing you a golden opportunity,” Hoseok insisted.

“I don’t even know him!”

“That’s the point. Go introduce yourself. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I hesitated, and Hoseok seized his chance. “I bet you can’t do it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re betting on this now?”

“Absolutely. If you don’t talk to him, I’m telling everyone here that you chickened out.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, darling. Now, go,” he said, practically pushing me out of my seat.

I took a deep breath, heart pounding as I glanced at the man again. His gaze swept the room, sharp and assessing, before landing briefly on me. Our eyes met, and a spark of something unspoken passed between us.

Fine. I could do this. For the sake of my pride—and to shut Hoseok up—I adjusted my dress, squared my shoulders, and took a step forward.

The night was just beginning.

I took a deep breath as I made my way to him. He was seated near the bar, his profile sharp under the dim lighting, exuding an aura that screamed untouchable. His drink sat untouched on the counter, his focus distant, like he was counting down the seconds until he could leave.

Alright, Y/N, you’ve got this. Just be charming. Flirty. Casual. How hard can it be?

Clearing my throat softly, I slid onto the barstool beside him. “You know,” I started with a smirk, “it’s dangerous sitting here all alone. Someone might think you’re waiting for company.”

He slowly turned his head to look at me, his brow arching in what could only be described as mild annoyance. “Excuse me?”

I faltered but quickly recovered. “I mean, you’re sitting here like you own the place, but you don’t really strike me as the social butterfly type.”

His eyes narrowed. “And you don’t strike me as someone who knows how to mind their own business.”

My mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I—what? I was just trying to make conversation!”

“By assuming I’m some antisocial loner?” His tone was flat, but the words stung.

“That’s not—” I sputtered, now feeling defensive. “Okay, you know what? Never mind. Clearly, I misread the vibe. Enjoy your night, asshole.”

I turned on my heel, heart racing with a mix of embarrassment and fury as I stormed back to Hoseok.

“You’re back already?” he asked, smirking as he handed me a fresh glass of champagne. “What happened?”

“Oh, nothing,” I said sarcastically, collapsing onto the couch beside him. “Just got verbally smacked by the guy you insisted I talk to.”

Hoseok burst out laughing. “What did he say?”

“That I don’t know how to mind my own business!”

Hoseok clutched his stomach, tears forming in his eyes. “Oh, my God, Y/N, what did you say to him?”

“Nothing bad! I was just trying to be friendly. He’s the one with the stick up his—”

Before I could finish, I noticed the man leaving the bar. He walked toward the exit with the same quiet, commanding air he had when he entered. No goodbyes, no lingering. Just a clean getaway.

“Whatever,” I muttered. “He’s clearly not a fan of parties—or people.”

“Fair,” Hoseok said, still chuckling as two familiar faces joined us. Jihyo and Sana, fellow models and the unofficial queens of industry gossip, flopped onto the couch with the kind of grace only models could manage.

“What’s so funny?” Sana asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder as if she were still mid-photo shoot.

“Y/N just got spectacularly shut down by the Jeon Jungkook,” Hoseok declared, barely containing his laughter.

I turned to him sharply. “Wait, you know him?”

Jihyo’s jaw dropped, her eyes darting between Hoseok and me. “Hold on, that Jungkook? CEO of Resorts International?”

“Oh, that’s his name,” I muttered, sinking further into my seat. “Explains a lot. The guy’s got all the charm of a brick wall.”

“More like a brick wall covered in barbed wire,” Sana quipped, her brows raising dramatically. “I’ve heard he’s impossible to approach—unless you’re an accountant or a cocktail waitress.”

Sana chimed in, leaning forward like she was about to spill state secrets. “You’ve heard the rumors, right? Cold-hearted, doesn’t talk to anyone unless he has to, and supposedly—” she lowered her voice dramatically, “—he’s got a different girl in his bed every week.”

Jihyo nodded sagely. “I’ve heard the same. He’s all business, no warmth. Probably because he grew up as an only child with more money than he knew what to do with.”

Hoseok snorted. “To be fair, you did call him a loner to his face.”

“I didn’t call him a loner! I implied it,” I defended. “Big difference.”

The three of them burst into laughter, and I couldn’t help but join in despite my bruised ego.

“Well,” I sighed dramatically, raising my glass, “here’s to tonight. Not exactly my lucky night in the romance department.”

“Hey, it’s Vegas,” Hoseok said, clinking his glass against mine. “Plenty of fish in the sea. Just… maybe avoid the sharks next time.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I took a sip. If nothing else, at least I had good company to cushion my failed attempts at flirting.

Jeon Jungkook had lived his entire life under a spotlight, but it wasn’t the kind that most people would envy. As the only son of Jeon Hyunwoo, the founder of Resorts International, one of the world’s leading gaming and hospitality empires, Jungkook was groomed for success before he could even spell the word. He’d grown up surrounded by glitzy hotel openings, exclusive business meetings, and lavish galas where every handshake could seal a deal worth millions.

When his father announced his retirement three months ago, handing over the CEO reins to Jungkook, the world collectively held its breath. The media speculated endlessly: Would the golden boy live up to his father’s legacy? Was he ready for the challenge?

Jungkook had proven them all wrong. In just three months, he’d already started modernizing the company’s operations, implementing eco-friendly initiatives, and streamlining inefficiencies. But despite his achievements, his reputation among those outside the boardroom was less favorable.

“Cold-hearted.”

“Unapproachable.”

“Stone-faced heir.”

The whispers followed him everywhere, branding him as someone impossible to know, let alone love. In reality, Jungkook wasn’t cold—just guarded. Growing up without siblings or close confidants had shaped him into someone who found comfort in solitude. His reserved nature wasn’t a symptom of arrogance, but rather a quiet reflection of how overwhelming his life had become.

Beneath the sharp suits and calculated demeanor was a man who loved simple pleasures: sketching in his notebook, playing the piano, or indulging in late-night gaming sessions. But no one saw that side of him—not his colleagues, not the socialites clamoring for his attention, and certainly not the father who believed his son’s life wasn’t complete without a wife.

Jungkook’s friend Kim Taehyung, the eccentric owner of one of the hottest luxury fashion brands, had practically dragged him to this afterparty. Taehyung had a knack for throwing events that were equal parts exclusive and chaotic, and tonight was no exception.

“You need to loosen up,” Taehyung had said earlier, handing Jungkook a glass of champagne. “You’ve been running that empire of yours like a man possessed. It’s a party, not a shareholders’ meeting.”

“I’m not really in the mood, Tae,” Jungkook replied, scanning the room full of strangers.

“Of course, you’re not,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. “But you’re staying. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone interesting tonight.”

Jungkook sighed. Taehyung was relentless.

The truth was, he wasn’t just tired from work. His father had been on his case again earlier that day, pressing him to start dating.

“You’re the face of this company now, Jungkook. People look up to you. It’s time you settled down.”

“Dad, I’ve been CEO for three months. I’m focusing on stabilizing the company,” Jungkook had argued.

“Excuses. You’re hiding behind work because you’re afraid of commitment,” his father shot back.

The argument had left a sour taste in Jungkook’s mouth. Relationships weren’t on his radar right now. He wasn’t against the idea entirely, but the thought of being with someone when he could barely keep his own life in order felt irresponsible.

Jungkook slipped away from the main floor and into the restroom, taking a moment to breathe. The thrum of the party dulled behind the heavy door, and for a few minutes, he could pretend he wasn’t Jungkook Jeon, CEO of Resorts International.

He leaned against the counter, staring at his reflection. You don’t have to stay long. Just make an appearance, then leave. It’s fine.

When he returned to the party, Taehyung intercepted him immediately.

“Where were you hiding?” Taehyung teased, clinking his glass against Jungkook’s.

“Just needed a break,” Jungkook replied. “I was actually about to head out.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Taehyung’s grin widened mischievously. “You can’t leave without at least trying to have some fun. Find someone to talk to. Flirt, even. You’re single, man. Enjoy it!”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Guilty as charged. Now, promise me you’ll stay for at least thirty more minutes.”

“Fine. Thirty minutes,” Jungkook muttered, already regretting it.

He found himself at the bar, sipping whiskey and counting down the seconds until he could make his escape. That’s when you appeared.

“You know,” you said, sliding onto the stool beside him, “it’s dangerous sitting here all alone. Someone might think you’re waiting for company.”

Your tone was playful, your smile confident, but Jungkook could only muster a blank stare. Who starts a conversation like that?

“Excuse me?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

“I mean, you’re sitting here like you own the place, but you don’t really strike me as the social butterfly type,” you continued.

The comment rubbed him the wrong way—not because it was offensive, but because it hit too close to home.

“And you don’t strike me as someone who knows how to mind their own business,” he replied flatly.

Your expression faltered, but only for a moment. “I—what? I was just trying to make conversation!”

“By assuming I’m some antisocial loner?” he shot back.

You stood abruptly, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “You know what? Never mind. Enjoy your night, asshole.”

As you walked away, Jungkook felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t meant to come off so harsh. He was just… out of his depth.

Deciding he’d had enough, Jungkook downed the rest of his whiskey and left the bar. As he walked through the crowd, he couldn’t help but glance back at you. You were sitting with a group of friends, laughing animatedly despite their earlier exchange.

For a brief moment, Jungkook wondered if he’d made a mistake. But then, the weight of his father’s words pressed down on him again. And yet, as he walked away, your voice lingered in his mind.

The warm, familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee hit me as I stepped into my favorite café, the one I always visit whenever I’m in Vegas. Normally, this place feels like a sanctuary—a calm start to my day with a comforting latte in hand. But not today. Today, the universe seemed to have woken up and decided to toy with me.

First, I received some ridiculous news about my upcoming campaign shoot being delayed, throwing my entire schedule into chaos. Then, in my rush to storm out of the hotel, I realized too late that I’d forgotten my purse. Great.

Still, I wasn’t about to let that stop me from grabbing my usual coffee. A caffeine fix was non-negotiable.

“Medium latte, please,” I said to the barista, already picturing the soothing warmth of the cup in my hands.

“That’ll be $5.50,” he replied.

I instinctively reached into my pocket, only to come up empty. My stomach dropped. “Uh…” I glanced up sheepishly. “Okay, so funny thing—I left my wallet at my hotel. But I’m a regular here. Can I just—”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the barista interrupted, his tone clipped. “We can’t process an order without payment. Policy.”

I blinked, thrown by his sharpness. “I’m not asking for free coffee. I’ll come back and pay, I swear. You can even ask the manager—I’m here all the time.”

“I really can’t do that,” he said, looking uncomfortable but firm. “We’ve had issues before with people trying to…”

I froze. “Are you accusing me of being a scammer?”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant,” he stammered, his face flushing. “It’s just…we have to be careful—”

“Careful about what?” My voice rose as irritation crept in. “About someone who forgot their wallet? I’m not exactly trying to rob you!”

The barista looked ready to melt into the floor when a low, calm voice broke through.

“I’ll pay for it.”

I turned to the source of the voice, and my breath caught.

Standing a few feet away was none other than him—Jungkook. The same Jungkook who had practically shut me down a week ago at Hoseok’s party. He looked just as composed and intimidating as before, dressed in a sleek black coat over a crisp white turtleneck, his hair perfectly tousled like he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot.

He slid a bill onto the counter without a second glance in my direction. “For her latte,” he said to the barista, who nodded nervously and rushed to complete the order.

I stood there, dumbfounded.

“Wait—what are you doing?” I finally managed to ask as Jungkook turned and headed for the door.

“Paying for your coffee,” he said over his shoulder, his voice casual, like it was no big deal.

“Why?” I demanded, hurrying after him.

He paused at the entrance, looking at me with an expression that was equal parts bored and amused. “Because you looked like you needed it.”

I blinked, caught between annoyance and gratitude. “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to,” he replied simply.

I crossed my arms, planting myself in his path. “Okay, but why? What’s the catch? Last time we talked, you made it pretty clear you don’t exactly like strangers.”

He raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, I thought he was going to ignore me. Instead, he said, “And last time we talked, you called me a loner. So maybe I’m just returning the favor.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “Wow, you really have a way with people, don’t you?”

He shrugged, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “Look, if it bothers you that much, don’t think of it as charity. Think of it as me doing something nice.”

“Nicer than calling me pitiful,” I muttered under my breath, but he caught it.

His ears turned pink. “You looked like you were having a bad day,” he mumbled, suddenly avoiding my gaze.

For a moment, I just stared at him. There was something unexpectedly…endearing about how awkward he seemed. Like he wasn’t used to small talk or acts of kindness but was trying anyway.

“Well, I don’t like owing people,” I said finally. “So the next time we meet, I’ll treat you. Deal?”

Jungkook looked at me, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, to my surprise, the corners of his mouth lifted into a barely-there smile. “Sure. If we would meet again.”

He slipped out the door before I could respond, leaving me standing there with my coffee and a strange flutter in my chest.

As I took a sip of my latte, I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t the cold, untouchable man everyone made him out to be. Maybe…he was just a little awkward. And kind of sweet.

A rare break from my job was the perfect excuse to finally try something new—and for some reason, the idea of working out seemed appealing. Maybe it was the influencers I’d been scrolling past on Instagram with their perfectly toned abs, or maybe I just needed a distraction. Either way, I grabbed my phone and searched for gyms nearby.

After a few minutes of scrolling, I found a fancy spot that looked promising. The problem? I didn’t have a car. Public transportation in Vegas wasn’t exactly convenient, and walking there in this heat wasn’t an option either.

Then it hit me—I had the solution. I dialed my rich friend, Park Jimin.

Jimin picked up on the second ring, his voice as cheerful as ever. “Y/N! What’s up?”

“Hey, Jimin,” I said, getting straight to the point. “Can I borrow one of your cars? I found this gym I want to check out, but, you know…”

“Oh, absolutely,” he replied without missing a beat. “Which one? The Lamborghini, the Porsche, or—”

“Something normal, please,” I cut in, laughing. “I just need to get there, not cause a scene.”

“Normal? What does that even mean?” Jimin teased. “Alright, I’ll send one over. Consider it done.”

We chatted for a bit longer, mostly about his upcoming projects and his love for the Vegas nightlife, until the conversation took a surprising turn.

“By the way,” Jimin said casually, like he was talking about ordering coffee, “I’m throwing a yacht party this weekend for my birthday. You have to come.”

I blinked. “A yacht party? Like... on an actual yacht?”

“Yes, Y/N,” he said, laughing. “A boat, water, champagne, music—the whole deal. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of skipping it.”

“I mean... no,” I admitted, feeling a little overwhelmed. “It’s just... I don’t think that’s really my scene. You know I’m not exactly—”

“Not exactly what?” he pressed, his tone growing curious.

I hesitated, then sighed. “Well... out of your league?”

“Out of your league?” Jimin repeated, his voice turning sharp, almost offended. “Don’t be ridiculous. I invited you because you’re one of my closest friends. You and Hoseok.”

Ah, Hoseok—the reason I’d met Jimin in the first place. Back when I’d started in the fashion industry, Hoseok had introduced me to his best friend, and Jimin had been an instant ally: warm, funny, and, despite his wealth, incredibly down-to-earth.

“You’re sure I won’t be awkwardly out of place?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

Jimin snorted. “Awkward? You? This is coming from someone who had zero shame asking to borrow one of my cars five minutes ago.”

I burst out laughing. “Okay, you got me there.”

“Exactly,” he said, his tone softening now. “Listen, I only invited people I trust—people I actually like. You’ll have Hoseok there too. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

And just like that, I could feel the tension melting away. “Alright,” I said, smiling. “Count me in. But if I trip and fall into the ocean, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Jimin’s laughter rang out like a promise. “Deal. But I’m making you wear a life jacket just in case. The car should be pulling up any minute.”

As if on cue, I heard the unmistakable sound of a sleek engine pulling into the driveway. I peeked out the window and shook my head, smiling. Jimin’s idea of “normal” turned out to be a shiny black Tesla.

“Your chariot awaits,” Jimin said playfully before hanging up.

Grabbing my bag, I headed out the door and slid into the luxurious interior. I had to admit, the excitement was starting to build—not just for the workout but for the yacht party. Maybe this was exactly the kind of escape I needed. After all, life had a way of surprising me when I least expected it.

The gym was buzzing with energy as I powered through my workout routine. The rhythmic thud of weights dropping and faint music filled the air, and I was in the zone—completely focused. By the time I moved to cool down, my muscles felt like jelly, but the satisfying kind.

I reached for my water bottle and lowered the volume of my earbuds, the background hum of the gym suddenly sharper. That’s when I heard it—a loud, frustrated, “Shit, what the hell just happened?”

Intrigued, I glanced over. There he was: broad-shouldered, standing by a bench, holding a phone that looked like it had lost a fight with a sledgehammer.

It took me a second to process, but when I did, the recognition hit. “Oh, it’s you again!” I blurted out, my mouth moving faster than my brain.

He looked up, his expression a mix of disbelief and resignation. “Yeah, it’s me again,” he said flatly, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke by orchestrating our third meeting.

“What happened?” I asked, biting back a grin as I nodded toward the carnage in his hand. “I heard something break.”

He sighed, holding up the mangled device. “My phone. It fell while I was working out, and I didn’t see it. Then the dumbbell… well, the dumbbell saw it.”

That was all it took for me to lose it. I laughed, clutching my stomach as Jungkook’s expression shifted from annoyed to downright offended.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry!” I managed to say between giggles. “But how do you not notice your phone on the floor? Were you that focused?”

“It was an accident!” he shot back, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t exactly planning to obliterate my phone today.”

“Alright, alright,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender, though the grin stayed firmly in place. “What’s your plan now? Or are you stuck in this gym forever?”

He looked at his watch. “I’ll figure it out. I can call my secretary through this,” he said, tapping the screen.

“Wait,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “I’ll help you out.”

Jungkook blinked, clearly taken aback. “You’ll what?”

“I’ll drive you,” I offered, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I still owe you one from the café incident, remember?”

For a moment, he looked skeptical. “You? Drive me?”

“Yes, me. I’m perfectly capable of driving, thank you very much,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “Unless, of course, you’d rather sit here like a helpless damsel waiting for your secretary to swoop in and save you.”

Jungkook let out a reluctant sigh, finally we stepping toward the black Tesla.

“Nice ride,” he remarked casually. I snorted. If only he knew.

As I unlocked the doors, my eyes betrayed me for a moment, flickering toward him. He was the epitome of effortless cool—lean but undeniably sculpted, the kind of build that spoke of hours at the gym but never looked overdone. His plain black tank top clung to his shoulders, revealing toned arms and just a teasing glimpse of a tattoo curling around his bicep. The joggers he wore hung low on his hips, paired with sneakers that looked both practical and trendy. His hair was tousled in that perfect I woke up like this way, and the faint glint of a lip piercing added an edge that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

“You know, if you’re going to stare, at least make it subtle,” his voice broke through my thoughts, his lips tugging into an amused smirk.

I blinked, heat creeping up my neck. “I wasn’t—” I started, but his raised eyebrow silenced me.

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “So, do I pass your inspection?”

“Inspection?” I scoffed, regaining my composure. “Please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckled as he slid into the passenger seat, leaving me muttering under my breath as I got behind the wheel. Why did he have to be so infuriatingly smug and good-looking?

Desperate to change the subject, I asked, “Anyway, do you want breakfast? My treat.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “Breakfast? With you?”

“Relax,” I said with a laugh. “I’m not proposing or anything. It’s just food. You eat, don’t you?”

He hesitated, his expression a mix of skepticism and mild intrigue. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. But only because I don’t have a better option.”

By the time we pulled up to the restaurant, he still seemed wary, like he couldn’t quite figure out if I was serious or setting him up for something. But as we stepped inside, I noticed him sneaking a glance at me, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be.

The restaurant was warm and inviting, with a soft golden glow from the lights and a gentle hum of chatter in the background. Jungkook and I sat across from each other, separated by what felt like an ocean of awkward silence. I buried my nose in the menu, pretending to deliberate over my choices, but really just trying to distract myself from his presence, which seemed to take up way more space than it should.

Once the waiter took our orders, the quiet felt unbearable. I swirled the straw in my glass like it was the most fascinating thing in the world and finally broke the silence. “So… are you, like, the CEO of your company or something?”

He raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah, I am. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” I said a little too quickly, feeling my cheeks heat. “Just making conversation.”

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that’s almost more of an exhale. “Not very subtle, are you?”

Before I could retort, he suddenly leaned forward, eyes narrowing at my phone case. “Wait a minute… is that Gojo?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah, why?”

He tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “You watch that anime?

“Do I not look like someone who would watch anime?”

“Well, you don’t exactly give off weeb vibes.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Excuse me, I’m a proud fan of Gojo Satoru. Who wouldn’t be?”

His face lit up. “No way. Gojo’s my favorite too.”

“Of course, he’s everyone’s favorite,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “But don’t even start about his… you know…”

“Death?” he finished, wincing. “Yeah, that wrecked me. Don’t remind me.”

We spent a solid ten minutes geeking out over our shared love for the character, bouncing theories off each other like we’d known each other for years. It was so ridiculous, but for once, the awkward tension melted away.

“See?” I said, grinning. “I’m not that bad.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I never said you were bad. Just… unexpected.”

“Unexpected? Like when I tried to flirt with you that night?” I teased. “And you took it the wrong way?”

His eyes widened, caught off guard. For a moment, it felt like the air between us shifted, but before I could process it, he cleared his throat.

“Hey, about that night…” His tone softened, and his gaze dropped to the table. “I wanted to apologize. I wasn’t exactly… polite.”

I blinked. “Wait, you’re apologizing? Like, a real apology?”

He shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah, I was having a bad day.”

Curiosity got the better of me. “What kind of bad day makes you snap at random strangers?”

Jungkook hesitated, fidgeting with his fork.

Sensing his discomfort, I leaned back, trying to ease the tension. “You don’t have to answer. I mean, we’re not exactly close or anything.”

For a moment, I thought he might dodge the question, but then he sighed. “My dad’s been pressuring me to settle down. You know, get serious, date someone, think about marriage.”

That threw me for a loop. “Wait, what? You’re Jungkook—the Jungkook. Aren’t you supposed to be, like, the king of eligible bachelors or something? I mean… don’t you have a line of people falling at your feet?”

He laughed, a low, self-deprecating sound. “You’d think, huh? But the truth is, I do… mess around, sure, but nothing serious. It’s not exactly what my dad wants to hear.”

I stared at him, genuinely surprised. “So… you’re telling me all those rumors about you sleeping around are true?”

“Somewhat true,” he admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. “But they’re exaggerated. Not that it matters, though. My dad doesn’t care about the details—he just wants results.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. “Wow. And here I was thinking you were out there breaking hearts left and right. Turns out, you’re just another guy dealing with family drama.”

“Guess we all have our struggles,” he said, a bit ruefully.

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a small sigh. “You know, I get it. All my friends are pairing up, getting engaged, or having babies, and here I am... still single. Sometimes, it makes me wonder if there’s something wrong with me.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his expression softening in a way that made my heart skip just a little. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “You’re just waiting for the right person. Life isn’t a race, you know? Everyone’s clock is different.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his tone. “Wow, that’s... surprisingly profound coming from you.”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I have layers, you know. Like an onion.”

I snorted. “Well, thanks, Shrek. But really, I appreciate it.”

“I think you’re doing just fine. No one has it all figured out—not even me.”

“Oh, trust me, that part was obvious,” I teased, earning a laugh from him.

I swirled my nearly-empty glass of water, feeling a bit more comfortable now.

“You know, Jungkook, I think we might’ve actually been friends if our first impressions of each other weren’t so... well, awful.”

He tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “Yeah, maybe. But then again, where’s the fun in starting off on good terms?”

“Touché,” I said, rolling my eyes, though I couldn’t help but smile.

I didn’t realize how much time had passed until the waiter cleared his throat, his third time checking in on us.

“Oh wow,” I said, glancing at the time. “We’ve been here for over an hour. That’s, uh, new.”

Jungkook looked just as surprised. “Guess we’re better at this talking thing than I thought.”

As we left the restaurant, the crisp morning air hit us, and Jungkook glanced at his watch. “My secretary’s on the way. Thanks for the ride and breakfast, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said, waving it off. “Consider it payback for the café incident, you know”

As his car pulled up, he paused and glanced back at me. “This was... nice. Surprisingly nice, actually.”

“Agreed,” I said with a grin. “You’re not as big of a jerk as I thought.”

“And you’re not as... well, annoying as I first assumed,” he shot back, his lips curling into a teasing smile.

“Oh, I’m absolutely annoying. Just not to you. Yet.”

He chuckled, opening the car door. “See you when I see you.”

“Or see you never,” I teased, crossing my arms.

He smirked before stepping inside. I watched as his car disappeared down the street, feeling an odd mix of amusement and curiosity swirling in my chest. Whatever this was, it wasn’t what I expected—but something told me it wouldn’t be the last time our paths crossed.

It was the weekend, and Jimin’s birthday had finally arrived. I’d spent all morning preparing, carefully selecting the perfect dress—a chic yet comfortable outfit that struck just the right balance between effortless and elegant. Jimin had assured me that one of his drivers would pick me up, so I didn’t have to worry about transportation. Classic Jimin, always taking care of everything.

The car pulled up to the dock where we were all supposed to gather before boarding the yacht. The venue was buzzing with an understated elegance—soft lights twinkling above, the gentle murmur of waves against the pier, and a cluster of well-dressed guests milling about. Among them, I spotted Hoseok chatting animatedly with his girlfriend. As always, Hoseok radiated charm, while his girlfriend was effortlessly stunning, perfectly complementing his energy.

I also noticed Taehyung, one of Jimin’s close friends. We weren’t exactly close, but we’d met a few times at events. With his striking features and magnetic aura, Taehyung always managed to make his presence known without even trying.

Before the yacht was set to leave, I decided to find Jimin to wish him a happy birthday. However, as I approached, I noticed him pacing near the edge of the dock, phone pressed to his ear, his expression a mix of frustration and exasperation. His voice carried easily over the sound of the water.

“Bro, where are you? You’re the only one not here!” Jimin said, his tone sharp but laced with concern. There was a pause, presumably while the person on the other end responded, and then Jimin huffed.

“I swear, I’m gonna tell your mom about this, and she’ll whoop your ass for bailing on my party,” he threatened, though there was an amused edge to his voice. “You’re such a workaholic. Dude, you need to relax for once in your life.”

With that, he ended the call, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair before noticing me standing nearby.

“Oh, hey! Happy birthday Jimin!” I greeted, I stepped closer to hug him. His frustration melted away into his signature warm smile.

“Just an old friend giving me little trouble, something like that,” he said with a sigh, before flashing a grin. “But enough about that. You look amazing. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” I replied. “Now, you better enjoy your night—it’s your birthday, after all.”

“Working on it,” he said with a laugh before we parted ways.

I wandered back toward Hoseok and his girlfriend, joining their lively conversation about the upcoming festivities. Taehyung had drifted into the group, his dry wit adding a humorous edge to the chatter. The minutes passed quickly, and before we knew it, the yacht began to move. The gentle rocking of the boat, paired with the sparkling city lights fading into the distance, set the perfect tone for what promised to be an unforgettable night.

Jungkook leaned back in his office chair, running a hand through his already-messy hair. His desk was cluttered with files, reports, and his laptop—remnants of a day that seemed to stretch forever. He felt a pang of guilt knowing he’d be late to Jimin’s party. Jimin wasn’t just any friend; their bond went way back to childhood, forged through their parents’ business ties and countless summers spent together. Yet here he was, always caught up in work, unable to prioritize his personal life. His mother’s nagging voice echoed in his head: "You should spend more time with your friends. Life isn’t all about work, Jungkook."

The guilt doubled when Jimin called earlier, threatening to tattle to his mom if he didn’t show up. Jungkook could almost hear the smirk in Jimin’s voice. With a resigned sigh, Jungkook finally wrapped up his work and rummaged through his closet. He settled on a crisp white shirt, black slacks, and a sleek blazer that gave off an effortless yet polished vibe. After all, he couldn’t turn up to a yacht party looking like he just crawled out of a spreadsheet.

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook arrived at the dock just as the yacht began to drift away. The warm glow of lights from the boat reflected off the water, and the sound of laughter and music carried across the night air. He stepped on board, quickly spotting Jimin near the bar.

“Finally!” Jimin exclaimed, pulling Jungkook into a brief hug. “I was about to call your mom again.”

“Don’t start,” Jungkook replied, smirking. “Work ran late.”

Jimin rolled his eyes but grinned. “Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters. Come on, let's have fun.”

The two talked for a while, catching up on life and sharing stories. Despite Jimin’s attempts to nudge him toward mingling, Jungkook remained firmly rooted in the comfort of familiarity, sticking close to Jimin and occasionally chatting with Taehyung, another long-time friend.

Meanwhile, you found yourself in a different dilemma. After spending most of the evening with Hoseok and his girlfriend, the couple’s dynamic started to feel a bit suffocating. As much as you adored Hoseok, third-wheeling wasn’t exactly your idea of fun. Deciding you needed some air, you excused yourself and wandered toward the deck, the cool breeze a welcome escape from the noise and chatter.

The yacht had stopped, its anchor dropped in a calm, picturesque spot surrounded by glittering city lights on the horizon. The music from inside was still audible but muffled, creating an oddly serene atmosphere.

As you leaned against the railing, staring out at the water, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned your head slightly and froze. There he was—Jungkook. The man who had somehow become a recurring character in your life. His presence was almost magnetic, his sharp features softened by the moonlight. He caught sight of you and hesitated for a moment before walking closer.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, his voice low but carrying easily over the quiet.

You raised an eyebrow. “I could say the same about you. Late to the party?”

He let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, work. As usual.”

You nodded, not entirely surprised. “Let me guess—you’re one of Jimin’s childhood friends?”

“Guilty,” he admitted, leaning on the railing beside you. “And you? How do you know him?”

“Hoseok introduced us,” you replied. “He’s the reason I’m here tonight. Well, that and Jimin being very convincing.”

Jungkook smirked. “Sounds about right. Jimin’s good at getting what he wants.”

A comfortable silence settled between you for a moment, the distant hum of music blending with the gentle lapping of waves. The two of you weren’t exactly friends, but there was something strangely natural about standing there together.

Jungkook turned his head, his gaze meeting yours. “You’re not exactly blending into the crowd yourself. What are you doing out here?”

You hesitated, then smiled sheepishly. “Third-wheeling gets old fast. Thought I’d escape for a bit.”

“Fair enough,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Guess we’re both out of place here.”

The night air was cool and crisp as you and Jungkook leaned against the railings on the quieter side of the yacht. The party was still in full swing on the other side, music and laughter drifting faintly in the background, but here, it felt like you had the world to yourselves. The stars above shimmered in the dark sky, reflected perfectly in the calm water below.

“I just realized,” you said, breaking the peaceful silence, “this is the fourth time we’ve bumped into each other. Is the universe trying to tell us something?”

Jungkook glanced at you, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “Like what?”

You grinned, the words tumbling out before you could stop yourself. “That maybe I’m the girl you’ve been waiting for.”

His eyes widened slightly, clearly caught off guard. “Wow, you don’t hold back, do you?”

You shrugged, laughing softly. “Why should I? Life’s too short for games.” You hesitated for a moment, then confessed, “Besides, I’ve been thinking about you. A lot more than I probably should.”

Jungkook blinked, clearly trying to process what you’d just said. “You’re… straightforward.”

You smirked, playfully nudging his arm. “And you’re stating the obvious. Look, all I’m saying is, I don’t mind hanging out with you. You’re nice to be around.”

What you didn’t know was that Jungkook’s mind was a swirl of thoughts. He wasn’t going to admit it outright, but you’d been on his mind too. Something about you had stayed with him—the way you spoke your mind, the easy banter, and the way you didn’t seem fazed by who he was.

But before he could respond, you straightened up abruptly, suddenly aware of how vulnerable you’d just been. “Okay, wow, that was a lot. I’m blaming the alcohol I had earlier,” you muttered, your cheeks warm with embarrassment.

You took a step back, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but the slight sway of the yacht threw you off balance. Your foot slipped, and for a heart-stopping moment, you teetered on the edge.

“Whoa!” Jungkook reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and pulling you back just in time.

“Thanks,” you managed, breathless and slightly shaken. But before either of you could regain your footing, the yacht gave a sudden, unexpected lurch.

It all happened in slow motion. One moment, you were staring at Jungkook, his hand still gripping your arm; the next, both of you were tumbling over the railing. The cold water hit like a slap, stealing the breath from your lungs as you splashed into the dark ocean.

The cold, salty water surrounded you as you struggled to catch your breath, disoriented from the fall. But before panic could fully set in, you felt a strong, reassuring presence beside you. Jungkook's hand reached out, and his voice was calm but urgent.

"Are you okay?" His eyes searched yours, his face just inches from yours, his brows furrowed in concern.

You blinked, feeling a sudden rush of warmth in your chest despite the chill of the water. "I-uh, I am not really a good swimmer," you confessed, your voice shaky.

Jungkook didn't miss a beat. His hand gripped your arm, his touch firm but gentle. "It's okay. Just stay calm. Hold on to me," he instructed, his tone steady, like he had done this a hundred times before.

And for the first time, you were so close to him- closer than you ever thought possible. His face was so... beautiful. The rainwater trickled down his sharp jawline, the moonlight making his features look even more defined. His dark hair, now wet and tousled, framed his face perfectly.

You couldn't help but stare, the way his piercing glinted in the dim light making him look even more striking. How could someone look so perfect, so effortlessly attractive? With a body that was both strong and lean, and that face-it was hard to believe he was actually single. You couldn't stop yourself from admiring how impossibly hot he looked, even with water dripping from his face.

You found yourself almost mesmerized by his lips- those full, kissable lips. Your thoughts started to wander, and before you could stop yourself, you asked the question that had been swirling in your mind.

"Can I kiss you?"

There was a brief pause, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he gave you a small, playful smile. But before you could process it, his lips were on yours. The kiss was gentle at first, testing the waters, so to speak. But then, something shifted. The chemistry that had been building between you two since the first moment you met exploded in an instant.

The kiss deepened, and neither of you hesitated. The sound of the waves lapping against the yacht, the cool water surrounding you, all faded into the background. All that mattered was the heat of his lips against yours, the way he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together in the water.

And it wasn't just you who had been thinking about this. Jungkook had been wanting this, too. The way you'd smiled at him, the way you weren't afraid to speak your mind-it had kept him awake at night, wondering what it would be like to kiss you.

Now that you were here, tangled in the water, neither of you wanted to pull away. Time seemed to stand still as you kissed him, the connection between you both undeniable, magnetic. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt completely in sync.

It was messy, it was raw, but it was perfect. Just the two of you, lost in the moment.

Jungkook pulled back slightly, both of you still floating in the water. His eyes held a certain intensity, the kind of look that could make your heart race.

"You know," he began, his voice surprisingly soft despite the wild rush of emotions, "I've been thinking about you a lot too. More than I care to admit."

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart fluttering. The confession was unexpected, yet somehow not. Maybe you’d both been feeling this pull, this magnetic force drawing you closer, even without saying it out loud.

"So, what now?" You smirked, the water now lapping against your skin as you held onto him. "I'm waiting."

He blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. "Waiting for what?" he asked, a playful glint dancing in his eyes.

"Duh," you laughed softly, your voice teasing. "Waiting for you to ask me out."

Jungkook’s laughter rang out, warm and rich, his smile growing wider. "Oh, right," he said, pausing for effect. "I guess that would be nice, wouldn’t it?"

You both chuckled, the sound echoing into the night air. It felt so natural, this banter, this undeniable chemistry between you.

“I can’t believe this. Of all the things that could happen…”

“You had to save me, and then we both fell into the ocean,” you finished, chuckling despite yourself.

“Well, if the universe really is giving us signs, it’s not being subtle,” he teased, his dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Yeah, no kidding,” you said, grinning.

Before the moment could stretch any further, you both heard a loud shout from above.

"Y/N! Jungkook! Are you two alright?!"

It was Jimin's voice, and it snapped you both back to reality. Jungkook rolled his eyes but chuckled under his breath. "Looks like we’ve got an audience," he muttered, before holding onto you tighter. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

As the yacht crew rushed to rescue you, the gravity of the moment settled in. You had no idea where this connection would lead, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe—just maybe—you’d found something real.

end.

[skinreflectsthesun]

.

[pokewatcher20]

OH the Splatfest results are out??? WE WON??? BIG MAN SWEEP!!!!

[itsqueenshroom]

♪~fic writer interview~♪

I got tagged by @96percentdone and I’d love an excuse to talk about the hobby I partake in the least but should do more!

my ao3 is here, if you’re interested. okay here we go.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

3 public, one anonymous

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

24,615

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I only have 3 public, so in order:

restoring connections (876 kudos)

breathe on me (291 kudos)

feelings that consume me whole (40 kudos)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

absolutely! I love comments!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I suppose restoring connections? I haven’t really ended any of my fics with angst, and that one ends more hopeful than angsty. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I MEAN the other two are pwp, they both have pretty happy endings if you know what I’m saying, up top.

7. Do you write crossovers?

nope! I’m also extremely picky about crossovers I read, I’m not a big fan of them.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

lmao absolutely. there was also one guy on my restoring connections fic before I edited it to be a definitive oneshot and not a series that would reply to people saying I was never gonna finish it and being a dick in general.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

all but one of my fics are smut. I don’t really do series or ongoing fics apparently, so pwp is pretty much my bread and butter.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I fucking hope not?????

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that I know of.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes! feelings that consume me whole was co-written with my best friend duane!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

uhhhhhh I have. no idea. I like a lot and don’t really rank them? I’ll list a few that are rattling in my brain right now though!

ryudate (aitsf)

akitoya (prosekai)

noahmio (xc3)

masakishigo (tmm) (let them be a polycule, it’s funny)

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

duane I’m so sorry I don’t think I’ll ever finish sex boat.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I love me a good metaphor. I also think I’m pretty good at writing about a character’s inner thoughts as they’re thinking them? I suppose?

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

transitional exposition my beloathed.

17. What are your thoughts about writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I don’t mind or have strong feelings one way or another.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

ah, all the way back in middle school I wrote self insert tokyo mew mew fanfiction on the now deleted website quizilla. it’s dead and I’m glad my past is wiped forever. :)

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I have like 8 fics on the back burner cause I’m a human dumpster fire, but I’d love to write something for akitoya. not pwp, like 90% of my wips. like, I really just wanna dissect akito’s brain and feelings and write something sweet for them. <3

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I’m gonna be basic and say the latest one, feelings that consume me whole. please play spirit hunter.

do I have friends that write fics on tumblr?? uhhhhhhh yknow what, if you wanna do this go ahead, consider yourself tagged by me. :)

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

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ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

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danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[girlgenius1111]

study buddy

solstråle engen ft. @wileys-russo 's fresa! sol struggles with school, and facing the threat of having to repeat the year, ingrid and mapi try to get her some study help. it doesn't go... exceptionally well.

—

It was more frustrating than anything. For years, you hadn’t really given school much thought, or put in very much effort. And then, suddenly, you’d been shipped off to Spain and everything was different. Everything changed again six months later, and suddenly, school felt like something that held a lot more weight.

You didn’t have many opportunities to make Ingrid and Mapi proud of you. Sure, they’d say they were proud of you when you asked for help while having a panic attack, or for setting some sort of boundary. That just didn’t feel… right. It didn’t feel like it was enough. They were bending over backwards, every day, to make you feel known and seen and loved, and the least you could do was show that they were helping you, right?

So, very suddenly, school was important. Grades were important. It seemed, though, that the years of not caring and not paying attention had taken their toll. Because you studied, and you actually tried but it wasn’t enough. Your grades were still… mediocre. Nothing to brag about. 

You worked harder, to no avail. You tried different methods of studying, you devoted hours and hours to your schoolwork, and… no improvement. So much of your work felt like it went way over your head. 

You had promised yourself you wouldn’t be upset when you handed Ingrid the test you’d gotten back. She had a busy week and she really didn’t need you breaking down over a stupid test, like you had earlier in the school bathroom. Your plan was to bypass your sister and her girlfriend, head straight to your room, and maybe slam the door. If you acted angry, they were more likely to give you space to calm down, which meant there was much less of a chance you’d get all pathetic and upset.  

Only, you’d forgotten that Ingrid had known you were getting the test back today, having seen you study and study and study for it. Your sister was sure that since you studied so much, it must be a good grade, and she had a magnet all ready to attach your exam to the fridge. 

The minute you walked into the house and saw her waiting in the kitchen, freshly showered from training, an expectant and excited look on her face, you shrunk in on yourself, very suddenly wanting a hug more than you wanted to cry silently into your pillow all alone.

“How’d you do?!” Ingrid asked excitedly, her smile only faltering when your lip began to wobble. “Solstråle?”

“I’m sorry.” You choked out tugging the collar of your shirt up over your eyes before she could see you begin to cry. Ingrid’s arms were wrapping around you only a moment later, holding you tight against her as she floundered, confused as to what had upset you.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happened, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Ingrid promised, making eye contact over your head with Mapi, who had wandered into the kitchen and caught sight of you trembling against your sister. 

Ingrid thought something must have happened at school, and Mapi quickly came to the same conclusion. The thought that you’d done poorly on your test, and this was the reason behind your distress, never even crossed her mind. Ingrid had never known you to care much about your grades, and while you were trying harder now, she didn’t think something like a bad result could get you this upset. 

“I’m really sorry. I tried my best.” You whimpered, briefly wondering when you’d turned into this person who cried at the drop of a hat and allowed her sister to hug you whenever you were upset. It was so different. Everything was so different. 

“What are you sorry for?” She asked, heart melting a bit as Mapi walked closer and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before perching on the counter. “Tell me, Sol, tell me what’s wrong.” 

Wordlessly, you withdrew from the comforting embrace of your sister and swung your bag off your shoulder. You unzipped it, pulling out the exam from the red folder Ingrid had neatly labeled for you. You handed it to her, eyes brimming with tears again at the sight of all the red marks all over the first page. 

Ingrid’s first instinct was to sigh, but you’d been with her long enough for her to know you’d just shut down. Not to mention that she knew how much work you’d been putting into this specific exam. Prepared to ask you what had gone wrong, she looked up to see that the tears had stopped. There wasn’t a hint of emotion on your face, like you were preparing yourself to be yelled at. Ingrid had no such plans.

“Oh, Sol. Kjære, come here.” She said instead, pulling you back into her. There was some hesitation on your part, but after a second you melted into the hug, knowing that if Ingrid was upset, she would have told you so by now. “You studied so hard, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” 

“I’m sorry.” You said again, frowning when Ingrid pulled back and placed both her hands on your face, tilting your head up to look at her. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You tried your best, that’s all I want from you.”

You shook your head, but didn’t say anything, instead opting to stare at your shoes. You hadn’t taken them off at the door, breaking one of Ingrid and Mapi’s rules. This additional mistake, regardless of how small it was, made you feel even worse. You couldn’t do anything right. 

A tattooed hand grabbed yours, and you looked up at Mapi. She had moved closer, holding the exam in one hand, her other gripping yours. 

“This is a passing grade, mi sol. Why are you so upset? It’s not like you to get so worked up over school.” Your face flushed, but before you could step away, Mapi’s grip tightened, as if she’d sensed you were about to run. “Come on, it’s us. You can tell us.” 

“I.. It’s not good enough.” You stammered, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with genuine despair written all across your face. “I wanted to do well. For both of you., I wanted you to be proud of me.” 

“Oh, Sol,” Ingrid sighed, exchanging a look with Mapi that only served to make you feel even more foolish. It had taken so much for you to admit why you were working so hard, and though you knew, logically, that Ingrid wasn’t trying to make you feel dumb, she had. 

You wrenched away from her, suddenly deciding that you didn't need her pity. Backing up until you hit the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen, you began to ramble. Unable to look either Ingrid or Mapi in the eye, you missed the sadness on their faces. “No, forget it. It’s fine. It’s really fine. It’s not a big deal, It’s my own fault, I’m too stupid to learn stuff my classmates already know-”

“Hey!” Mapi cut in, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You are not stupid. Don’t ever say that again.” 

You froze, staring at her with your mouth agape. Ingrid took a cautious step closer, aware she was toeing a thin line between you breaking down again, and pushing you into anger. 

“You aren’t stupid.” Ingrid echoed. “You’re not stupid, and you know you aren’t. It’s just one exam, Sol, it doesn’t make or break anything.” 

At this, you averted your eyes, a blush creeping up your neck. This exam could be a determining factor in your educational career. Ingrid just didn’t really know that information yet. Like a bloodhound, though, Ingrid caught the scent of your secret, her eyebrows raising as she stared at you. 

“It doesn’t make or break anything, right?” 

It was a staring contest for a few moments, one you and Ingrid both knew she would win, yet you kept it going all the same. The silence became too intense, the gazes of your sister and her girlfriend breaking your resolve rather quickly. With a heavy sigh, you reached for your bag yet again and pulled out a slightly wrinkled envelope. 

Ingrid held her hand out expectantly, apprehension clear on her face. You handed her the envelope, eyes still training on the floor. 

“Solstråle. This is addressed to me.” Ingrid huffed, removing the letter from inside and beginning to read it. Mapi moved forward, peeking over her girlfriend’s shoulder, eyes quickly scanning over the letter. You braced yourself, prepared for the worst. 

The last time you’d brought home something like this… you’d ended up living in Spain. Which was potentially the best thing that could have happened, but you had a feeling the consequences of this letter wouldn’t work out as well. 

Your sister placed the paper down on the counter, raking her fingers through her hair as she thought for a moment. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Part of her wanted to yell, but when was that ever the right choice? Before she could decide, María’s shoulder bumped into hers. Her girlfriend nodded in your direction, clearly trying to get Ingrid to see how terrified you were. 

And Ingrid couldn’t yell at you when you were like this, all sad and scared with your head bowed and your arms folded across your chest protectively. 

“Sol?” She said, her tone much quieter and kinder than you were expecting it to be. You looked up at her, shocked further to see that she didn’t look very angry. “Why didn’t you give this to me last week when they sent it?” 

Ingrid nodded towards the date on the letter, and you exhaled shakily. “I… I was hoping I could just try really hard for the rest of the year and do really well in all my classes and it would be fine.” 

Your sister nodded slowly, reading the letter over again. 

Mapi took the opportunity to chime in, her hand absentmindedly resting on your sister’s back, even as she fixed her warm gaze on you. “Nena, that is a lot for you to carry all by yourself. Having the threat of maybe needing to repeat the year hanging over your head… you should have told us.” 

You shrugged, blinking away the moisture pooling in your eyes at Mapi’s tone. “I didn’t want to disappoint you guys.” You mumbled. 

“You haven’t disappointed anyone!” Mapi exclaimed, frowning when you just scoffed in response. “I’m serious, Sol. We saw you study and study for this exam. You did your best, you’re doing your best. That’s all we can ask from you.” 

“My best isn’t good enough! I’m going to fail and have to repeat the year.” You cried, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. The mere thought of another year of school was horrifying. 

Ingrid finally put the letter down, a blazingly determined expression on her face. “No. You’re not going to fail anything. We’ll help you, we’ll reach out to your teachers, we’ll get you extra help. We’ll figure it out, Sol, but you’re not going to fail. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

For anyone else, that may have sounded overbearing. For you, though, it just felt supportive. It felt like you weren’t dealing with this yourself anymore, and that was a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

“Okay.” You said quietly. “Thanks.” 

Luckily, your sister knew you well enough to understand that after such an intense conversation, you’d need some time to yourself to process. 

“Hey,” Ingrid said, catching your wrist and turning you around slightly before you could leave the room. “I’m already proud of you, and the person you are. You could fail every test for the rest of your life, and I’d still be proud of you. Okay?”

You blinked at her for a prolonged second, before you nodded jerkily. Turning to head up the stairs to your room, you changed your mind, spinning back around and falling into your sister. She hugged you tight, as she always did, and you wondered briefly how you got so lucky. 

—

It was the following day that Mapi and Ingrid proposed their plan. Before they’d even said anything, you knew a few things. 

One, that they were excited about whatever plan they’d cooked up that day at training. 

And two, that you weren’t really going to have a choice in the matter. 

As a general rule, Ingrid and Mapi didn’t make you do many things. If they thought something was important, they’d encourage you to try it a few times, and then they’d let you stop if you still didn’t like it. That was how it had been for the school’s climbing club, the school’s hiking club, and the school’s baking club. All those were activities you enjoyed, but… activities you enjoyed doing yourself.

Well, not always.You loved to climb and hike with Ingrid. Frido, too, sometimes. And you could bake for hours with Mapi helping, measuring out ingredients and getting baking flour everywhere. But doing any of the above with strangers who spoke in rapid, fluent Spanish or catalan, was not fun. It was anxiety inducing. 

You knew this was about to be another one of those ideas, the ones you had to give a fair shot. 

It was at dinner, and you were trying to hide the wince everytime you picked up your water glass with your right hand, your wrist intensely aching after the time you spent in the climbing gym after school. It always hurt when you climbed for too long, though it was getting worse with every passing day. Another problem for another day, you decided, seeing the barely contained glee on Mapi’s face as she cleared her throat. 

“What?” You said suspiciously, putting your fork down and narrowing your eyes at the Spaniard. 

Mapi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Ingrid chimed in. 

“Mapi’s made you a playdate!” She said, smirking when her girlfriend wacked her in the arm. 

“Ingrid, that is not going to help me convince her.” Mapi huffed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. 

Still unamused, you continued to frown at Mapi. “I’d love it if you didn’t keep proposing ideas that you’d need to convince me of. Teaching you how to rock climb, trying to get that stain out of my favorite sweatshirt yourself, being the keeper while you practiced your free kicks, helping you build that bonfire–”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mapi dismissed. 

“You got stuck on the rock wall, my sweatshirt has a hole in it, the ball hit me so hard in the stomach I threw up, and both of us lost part of our eyebrows!” 

Mapi glared at you, while Ingrid hid her face behind her hand as her body shook with silent laughter. 

“Well this plan,” Mapi sighed, “is Ingrid AND Alexia approved.” 

That wiped the smile off your face. 

“Alexia? What does she have to do with this?” 

There were a few things you knew for certain about Mapi. One, she didn’t give up easily. Another, that she wanted more than anything for you to be friends with Alexia’s little sister. And from the sly smile on her face, you were almost sure you knew where this was headed. 

“I asked her to ask Fresa to tutor you!”

“No.” You said immediately. 

Mapi continued like you hadn’t spoken. “Fresa is a bit younger than you, but already finished your year! She’s studying to be a nurse, she’s very smart. Fres speaks English and she can help you with your Spanish and any other school things you need help with.” 

“No.” You repeated, looking helplessly at your sister. Ingrid looked to finally be taking the situation seriously, a familiar look on her face; one you knew meant that no matter how much you argued, she was going to get her way. Meanwhile, Mapi was still droning on. 

“–get along great with her! I think you guys have a lot in common, and it could be fun and educational!” 

“And you know all the best things are fun and educational.” Ingrid chimed in cheerily, this time her face telling you to go along with Mapi’s idea because she was excited about it, or else. 

“Educational.” You said sarcastically. “Super!” 

Still, you agreed, Mapi grinned at you, and Ingrid patted your back reassuringly. Mapi had a lot of bad ideas. You were pretty sure this would turn out to be the worst. 

—

You always spent more time at the climbing gym when things were rough. Back in Norway, you’d spend multiple hours a day, everyday, there. It was one of your tells; Ingrid always knew something was bothering you if you went to climb right after school. It was your way of shoving your emotions down before you could feel them, before your sister could read the hurt on your face and give you one of those tight hugs that brought tears to your eyes. 

Only, sometimes climbing didn’t do it. Sometimes, it felt like the walls were closing in, like you were about to suffocate, if you didn’t have some time completely by yourself to think. On those days, you really preferred to hike. You hadn’t felt that urge in a while; the urge to just disappear for hours, walk until your legs felt like they were going to fall up, and sit at the top of the trail until the world felt like a place you wanted to be in again. The last time had been back in Norway, after a day you didn’t even want to think about. 

Yet you found yourself in that same familiar mindset after your first study session with Fresa. 

It hadn’t gone well. You tried to go into it confident, sure that if you acted chill enough, she’d maybe miss that you had no idea what you were doing with your schoolwork. 

Confident, even as you arrived 15 minutes late. Scout had gotten his favorite toy, a small tiger that squeaked, stuck under the sofa, and it had taken you time you didn’t have to get it out for him. You could have left it, but Ingrid and Mapi weren’t home and you knew Scout would just sit by the couch and cry the whole time you were gone if you didn’t get his tiger out for him, and you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him to be so upset. And then you’d had a hard time finding a parking space at the library, and the directions inside were all in Spanish and Fresa had texted you to follow the signs to the study rooms but you misread the sign and went to the opposite end of the library before figuring out your mistake. And you would have texted you were going to be late, because you hated being late, but your phone was dead and the cord from your car had gone missing. 

When you entered the room, Fresa already looked annoyed. 

Annoyed, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, twirling a pen repeatedly in an almost unconscious manner. She looked very… put together. 

“Llegas tarde.” She commented, rolling her eyes when you didn’t reply. Your face flushed a bit as she must have picked up on your confusion, repeating herself in english. “You are late.” 

Any other time, you would have known what she said. Your issue wasn’t really understanding Spanish, it was more speaking and reading it. You felt weirdly flustered though today, like your brain was distracted and not quite able to follow what the other girl was saying. Anxious, too, at this social situation you’d been forced into. 

Briefly, you thought about explaining about Scout and the tiger and the parking space and the signs being in Spanish, but then you realized Fresa wouldn’t care about any of that. So instead, you just nodded and apologized, feeling your heart start to pound from the anxiety of the situation. 

You didn’t like talking to new people. Especially pretty new people who spoke a different language and were looking at you like you weren’t very smart. Even if you thought that yourself… you didn’t want anyone else to think so. Any intention of actually asking Fresa for help with the mountains of stuff you were confused with went out the window, then, and you almost subconsciously decided to just… try to get through without letting her know quite how lost you were. 

Fresa was alarmingly smart. She kept asking you questions about your work, about what you needed help with. Everything didn’t feel like an answer you wanted to give. Fresa seemed organized, though, and you assumed letting her take the lead and decide what to work on would placate her. Instead, she just looked more and more annoyed with every passing second.

 She kept asking questions about this paper and that paper and you didn’t know what papers she was talking about. You felt so stupid. More stupid than when you’d failed your test last week. 

“How do you even find the right paper in there?” Fresa asked, pulling a judgemental look as you rifled through your bag, searching for the article she was asking for.

Your bag was a mess, you knew it was a mess. You’d knocked your coffee over all your folders a few days ago, sitting at the counter when Scout barked and startled you. That was oddly upsetting in and of itself because Ingrid had gotten you the folders and labeled them for you and you felt like you’d destroyed something nice she’d done for you. You hadn’t told her, not wanting to hurt her feelings or anything, so now your school papers were living crinkled and disorganized in your bag.

And you were pretty sure the article Fresa was asking for had been a casualty of the coffee incident, because you’d scanned the paper and thought it wasn’t important before throwing it out. The Spanish had confused you, and you hadn’t realized you’d need the article for an assignment. Stupid. 

 You were feeling more and more embarrassed as the minutes passed. And, maybe, your reaction to feeling embarrassed was always anger. You pulled out a random piece of paper, slamming it down onto the table with more force than necessary in your haste to give the Spaniard something. 

Fresa instantly knew that what you’d given her wasn’t the right article, asking again if you had it as you shoved the other paper back into your bag. 

Logically, you knew you should just… admit you threw it away because you didn’t realize you needed it. For some reason, you just couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. You couldn’t get any words out of your mouth, feeling shockingly like crying. Nothing was going right and you were making yourself look like an idiot and all you could do was shrug as Fresa looked at you and took a deep breath. 

Then, she seemed to come to some kind of realization, her expression softening slightly. 

“Can you not read this? The spanish?” 

You flinched, feeling your face flush. Again, the reply of ‘no I can’t, would you please help me?’ seemed to evade you. Instead, you spewed some lie about being able to read the article, calling Fresa’s questions stupid and telling her she was wasting your time. 

Fresa seemed to have reached her breaking point, her voice rising as yours had. You didn’t really hear what she said, much too distracted by the way her eyebrows knitted together when she was frustrated, and the way her hand tightly gripped the pen she was holding. 

Then, she made an offensive impression of your shrugging. And if you hadn’t been angry before, you were absolutely fuming now. 

So what if you were quiet? It wasn’t like you really needed to talk much, considering how many questions she’d asked. You were furious at being called out for all your bullshit, feeling like a mess compared to the perfect girl next to you. A very angry mess who’d had a long day and was cursing one María León for making her do this and cursing the beautiful girl next to her for being so infuriating.  

“Alexia’s super little sister. Everyone says you are so smart. Can you not see I do not want your help? You want to be a doctor, no? So go find someone who does.” 

Fresa’s nostrils flared as she shoved her chair away from the table and got to her feet. She began angrily putting her stuff into her bag, and you remained completely still, unable to stop this whole meeting from going up in flames. 

“Eres un maldita idiota!” Fresa snapped, her face red with anger. 

There wasn’t really anything worse she could have said to you at that moment. 

“Snobbete kjerring.” You threw back, feeling a sharp spike of satisfaction when she zipped her bag angrily, completely incapable of understanding what you’d called her. 

“You know, I did this as a favor, tonta. I have worked all day, I came right here after my shift, on time. I have my own studies to do because yes, I want to be a nurse. I am smart, and I know what I want to do with my life. Maybe if you get your head out of your own ass, Engen, you might too! And you are right, this is a waste of time. My time!”

Fresa stomped out of the room, then, and you waited until she was out of sight before dropping your head into your hands with a deep sigh. 

That couldn’t have gone… any worse. And though it was probably all mostly your fault, you couldn’t help the resentment building for the intelligent, stuck up girl that had thrown insult after insult at you, hitting you in all the places it hurt. You packed your own stuff up once you were sure you wouldn’t run into Fresa again in the parking lot or something, shuffling dejectedly to your car.

The overthinking had begun. Was it really overthinking, you wondered, if you’d actually completely fucked up and the reasons for your anxiety were entirely reasonable? You weren’t sure, and you supposed it didn’t matter, your thoughts quickly spiraling as you rewinded the short meeting in your head. 

The shrugging had really gotten to her, but you weren’t sure what else to do. When in doubt, you had learned silence got you the best results. Often, no one really cared what you had to say anyway. Fresa was different, though, looking at you with her wide eyes, expecting an answer. It was intimidating. It scared you, honestly, how well the other girl seemed to see right through you. 

And maybe… maybe there were some other feelings brewing. Ones you didn’t want to consider. Feeling that didn’t even matter given the way Fresa had stormed out. It didn’t seem like there would be another study session.

This led you to your other problem. You’d fucked this up. Something your sister and Mapi had gone out of their way to set up for you, because they didn’t want you to have to repeat the year. 

You didn’t like to make mistakes. Every single one you made carried the risk that Ingrid would lose her patience with you, and give up. She hadn’t yet, and you’d messed up a fair amount in the past several months, but you couldn’t let yourself believe that no mistake could push her away. That just wasn’t a possibility. So, rather than face your failure, tell Ingrid and Mapi how awkward and weird you’d been, you ran. 

Or walked, you supposed. Your study session with Fresa had ended at 4:00, and it was almost 8 when you found yourself at the top of your favorite trail, legs scratched and aching, as the sun slipped below the horizon. Your phone was still dead and now Ingrid was absolutely going to kill you for going off the grid. 

You broke traffic laws on the way home, any peace you’d found at the top of the hiking trail entirely gone as anxiety began to build up inside of you again. 

Stepping into the house, you slipped off your muddy shoes, wincing at the blood trickling down the few cuts on your legs. Before you could even set your car keys down, though, footsteps were pounding down the hallway towards you. 

“Oh, thank god.” Ingrid gasped, sounding alarmingly emotional as she rushed forward and crushed you into a hug. “She’s here!” 

“Dios  mio.” Mapi muttered, appearing over your sister’s shoulder a moment later. Ingrid pulled away from you, her hands on your shoulders keeping you at arm's length. Her face quickly transformed from relieved to furious. 

“Where the hell have you been?” She hissed. 

“I–”

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You were supposed to be home hours ago, Sol. Your location wouldn’t show up on my phone, Fresa even said you ended your meeting early,” Ingrid ranted, though you began to tune her out at the sound of her name. 

“You talked to Fresa?” You interrupted, ignoring the incredulous look on Ingrid’s face, turning your attention towards Mapi who was staring stonily at you. 

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now. Where were you? Are you drunk? High? Were you fighting?” Ingrid demanded.

Each accusation felt like a bullet to the heart as Ingrid grabbed your chin and yanked it towards her, looking intently at your eyes. You shoved her away angrily; Ingrid wasn’t supposed to see you as that person anymore. She had promised that she didn’t, that she knew you weren’t a bad kid, that you had just been having a hard time. Now, though. She was looking at you like she didn’t trust a word that was about to come out of your mouth. 

“No.” You spat at her, grabbing your phone from your pocket and slamming it on the front hall table. “I went on a hike after I met Fresa and my phone died. I lost track of time. I wasn’t getting drunk or high and I wasn’t fighting anybody, but thanks for having some faith in me.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, and even though you expected Ingrid to soften with a bit of guilt, she only seemed emboldened with anger. 

“Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You were supposed to be back four hours ago Solstråle. Four! This was so irresponsible. Do you not care that we were worried? Do you not care that we were here waiting for you? That Mapi made dinner, and you were going to work on her bike? Or that we were supposed to make cookies? After everything we’ve done for you, Solstråle, I expect more.” She was shouting at this point, pacing back and forth in front of you. 

You looked to Mapi, hoping for her to step in and talk her girlfriend down, but she looked almost as mad as Ingrid was, and you shrunk in on yourself.

“You are…. you are grounded. This is unacceptable, and you better never let it happen again. That is not how family behaves Solstråle. Did you think about how worried we would be? I am so upset with you, so disappointed that you didn’t think about anyone but yourself, that you were so selfish–”

“Alright, Ingrid. Enough.” Mapi cut in finally, stepping forward to grab her girlfriend's hand and squeeze it. You were frozen in front of your sister, fighting the sob that was building in your throat. 

Ingrid stepped back, her face still red with anger. A hint of regret flickered across her face at the sight of your lip trembling and the tears in your eyes. Still, you looked confused, and Ingrid couldn’t shove her anger down at your lack of understanding. She turned, stomping off towards the kitchen, leaving you and Mapi behind. 

“Sol-”

“I’m going to shower. Sorry, Mapi. I’m sorry.” You mumbled, pushing past her and heading up the stairs before the Spaniard could get out another word.  

Mapi sighed tiredly, rubbing her hand over her face. Her Engens were going to make her go grey. 

—

You had only just pulled some pajamas on after your shower when Mapi knocked, her gentle voice calling to you from the hall. 

“Yeah?” You called back, voice gravelly from all the sobbing you had done in the shower. 

Mapi entered, the first aid kit in her hands and a much calmer expression on her face. She was in her pajamas, too, clearly having been waiting up for you to get out of the shower. It had been a long one. Another thing to be sorry for, keeping Mapi awake. 

“Can I help with your legs?” She wondered, gesturing to the many cuts that littered them.

Shrugging noncommittally, you sunk down onto the edge of the bed, Mapi soon taking a seat opposite you. She pulled your calf up to rest across her lap, getting out the antiseptic spray and a few bandages. You purposefully looked away, barely having been able to get the blood off in the shower without getting light headed. 

“Are you okay, mi sol?” Mapi murmured, fanning her hands over the cuts so the spray would dry faster. Mapi had a way of looking at you, eyes crinkled with concern and kindness, that made you want to burst into tears. You fought that instinct. 

“I am fine.” 

Mapi sighed, unwrapping a few of the bandages and beginning to carefully put them on you. 

“Then someone else was crying in the shower while you were in there?” 

No reply came, and Mapi sighed again, tapping your leg to tell you she was done with that one. 

“Look, I know Ingrid was harsh, but you have to understand how worried she was. How worried we both were. I know you still remember the things you wrote in that letter all those months ago. Things like that don’t just go away, Sol, and when you disappear for hours without a word, we worry.” 

This time, Mapi got a shrug in reply, and a small sniffle. She finished up with your other leg, gently pushing it off her lap and pulling you into a soft hug. “It’s okay, Solstråle. Everything is fine now.” 

You scoffed through your tears. “Nothing is fine, Mapi. I screwed up with Fresa, I screwed up with Ingrid. They both probably hate me. Please, just go. I’m tired.” 

Mapi shook her head. “You’re upset, I just want to–”

“No Mapi, just leave me be.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice was shaking almost as much as your hands were, and you were sure you just came off as pathetic. 

“Alright, nena. I love you, hmm? Don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

You remained silent, flopping back onto your bed as Mapi walked out of the room. Scout hopped up on the bed in her absence, licking your cheek twice before curling into your side. 

It wasn’t being too hard on yourself; the self hatred you felt in that moment was completely justified. You were very sure of that. 

—

You were tucked into bed when the door creaked open again, Scout not even bothering to lift his head from where it was tucked into the comforter draped over your leg. You blinked your eyes open and they widened in surprise at the sight of Ingrid walking into the room, hair messy as though she’d been tossing and turning. She neared the edge of your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead gently. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I don’t hate you, okay? I love you very much. Everything is going to be okay, so just try to get some rest.” 

You nodded weakly, impatiently pushing a tear off your cheek with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. Really sorry.” 

“It’s alright. You’re safe, yes? And that’s all that really matters.” Ingrid promised, and you nodded, sniffling pathetically. “We can talk more tomorrow, but just go to sleep, okay? Everything is fine.” 

“Love you.” You mumbled, Ingrid smiling softly down at her. You didn’t often say that first, something Ingrid attributed to having said it to your Mamma and not heard it back so many times. 

“I love you.” Ingrid replied, patting your cheek twice before tucking the covers up tighter around you, and heading out of the room. 

—

You woke up to a few unexpected things the next morning. One, it was almost 11 and Scout hadn’t woken you up demanding a walk. In fact, Scout was nowhere to be found. Two, the sounds of Mapi’s Spanish soap and Ingrid’s clanging around the kitchen echoed through the house. You’d forgotten they had the day off today. Ingrid must have taken Scout out to let you sleep in. 

The first two unexpected things, then, were explainable. The third… was not. 

A text from Fresa. 

Tuesday at the library. If you want to give it another shot. I think I can help. 

You thought about the way you’d behaved, and the way Fresa had spoken to you. Before you could delete the thread with her and close your phone, though, you thought about the letter you’d hidden from your sister. The excited smile on Mapi’s face when you’d agreed to let Fresa tutor you. 

Before you quite knew what you were doing, you pulled the message back up, your fingers typing away without you telling them to.

Yeah. I’d appreciate that. What time? 

There was something that drew you to Fresa, even as she infuriated you. Maybe it was how her voice had softened when she’d asked if you couldn’t read the Spanish on the paper, or maybe it was how she’d smiled unconsciously, watching Alexia score a goal the past weekend. It was a nice smile. And she had a nice voice. 

None of it really made any sense to you, but you’d already sent the text. 

—

For some reason, you felt a bit awkward. There was something very odd about knowing Mapi had been upset with you, because normally that was just Ingrid. But you knew Mapi had been just as worried last night as Ingrid, and just as upset. She’d been in the garage all morning, too, and you wondered if she was avoiding you or allowing you to decide to come to her if you wanted to talk.

After the 5th time you glanced at the door to the garage, though, Ingrid rolled her eyes from where she was sitting at the other end of the couch, typing away on her computer. 

“Go talk to her. She’s not angry, I promise.” 

Ingrid wasn’t angry anymore, either. You’d spoken with her practically first thing when you’d woken up, apologizing again and again and emphasizing that you hadn’t really realized how your actions would have affected Ingrid until it was too late. 

You’d told her about a time back in Norway when you’d stayed out all night after a fight with your Mamma, and when you’d come home the next morning, she hadn’t even noticed that you’d been gone. Ingrid understood a bit more, then, and was quick to hug you tight and whisper that she forgave you.

And even though Mapi had come in last night and tried to make you feel better, you knew she might have been waiting to be upset until she knew for sure you were okay. That made you even more nervous. 

Ingrid snorted from behind you when you knocked on the door to the garage, as normally you just walked right in. You shot her a glare, stepping inside the garage at the sound of Mapi’s quiet come in. 

The defender didn’t glance up as you walked in, but you took a seat in the chair next to her. Your chair. 

It was quiet for a moment, the sounds of Mapi’s metal tool gently clanging against the bike. 

“What did Fresa say to you last night?” You blurted out, face flushing red because why was that the first thing out of your mouth. 

Mapi fixed you with a half amused look, shaking her head. “That is what you’re asking?” 

“No.” You sighed. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” Mapi echoed, going quiet for a moment as she thought. “Not mad. It’s just hard for me, Sol. Last night, you didn’t even think that we’d be worried about you and where you were. It just makes me a bit sad.”

“Oh.” 

“And it’s not your fault, nena. I just worry for you.” 

You nodded slowly. “I’m really sorry. I should have thought about how worried you guys would have been.”

Mapi gave you a half smile. “I know you are. And you won’t do it again sí?” 

Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as you agreed, more sure than you’d ever been that you’d not be doing something that stupid again. 

“Now. Why are you so concerned with what Fresa said to me, hmm? What did you do?"

—

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Johnny Lawrence’s daughter

Johnny Lawrence x daughter!reader

warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, classic johnny sexism <3

a/n: WHAT! ME write a fic thats not gn, i know. im shocked too but its just bc i feel johnny is so gender-stereotypey that doing this gn wouldn’t work very well but very open to a son!r or nb!r if anyone is interested (bc seriously. johnny cannot help but bring up genders). also i just want to say that a lot of this (not all!) honestly reminds me of or are actual things that have happened w my dad bc johnny is literally my dad if my dad was like 8 years older i think also i wrote this all in one sitting ALSO NO COBRA KAI SEASON 6 SPOILERS

prompt:

GIRL DAD!

you always kinda just gravitated toward living with your dad

“y/n, i’m so proud of you. i never have to worry about you. you can take care of yourself. robby on the other hand, i worry about him. i think girls are just more self sufficient” -johnny, a little drunk

“thanks dad” -you, also a little drunk (hes a “cool dad”)

he was the type of parent that “prefers that if you’re gonna do something stupid at least do it while he’s around” aka underage drinking

whenever he stays out late you fall asleep in his bed. and lock him out

“y/n! open the door!” -johnny, banging on the door

“no! your bed is more comfortable” -you

he thought it was sweet honestly but he did want to sleep in his bed

sort of like a lesson not to come home late all drunk and gross

he was VERY against letting you drive his car

“dad, i need my license!” -you

“no woman is getting behind the wheel of my firebird” -johnny

“why do you have to make it about women? i’ll fight you” -you

“you’ll lose that fight” -johnny

“oh, so you’d fight a teenage girl? wow, real classy, dad” -you

“no, but i’d fight my teenage daughter. i brought you into this world and i’ll take you out” -johnny

you honestly had a great sense of humor with johnny, but you’d check him if he said anything too messed up

“dad, it’s not the 80’s anymore, you can’t say that” -you

“dont tell me what i can and cant say! the 80’s were awesome, i wish it was the 80’s again” -johnny

“so i’ve heard” -you

he helped you with your homework as a kid until like, 2nd grade when multiplication and division got involved

he did teach you karate growing up! but mostly the basics, for self defense purposes

“hey, never let any guy try to impress you with his karate skills. he’s probably a douche” -johnny, pausing “i sure was”

late night movie marathons (70s/80s classics for sure)

he took care of you during your first hangover (high school parties, ya know)

“didn’t i teach you better than to mix liquors” -johnny

“ugghhhh” -you

yes, you have heard about daniel larusso. enough said LMAO

robby and you had a kind of sweet but distant relationship

occasional check-in texts

robby: are you doing okay with dad? he’s actually buying food and shit?

you: yeah! he’s fine right now, how’s mom? new stepdad yet? is he rich?

robby: mom’s not going anywhere she’d find a rich guy, but keep dreaming

you wear a lot of your dad’s old t-shirts. usually band tee’s

oh and he made sure you got into the “right music”

he used to drive you around in the firebird when you were a SMALL CHILD (front seat, no car seat!) and blast his old cassettes

for YEARS he’d pull the “who is this” “what song is this” game with the reasoning:

“if you wear a band shirt and some asshole asks you to name three songs, i want you to name ten” -johnny

listen. you were still “daddy’s girl” or whatever used to be a cute little saying and is now ruined but whatever

“dad, can i have twenty bucks?” -you

“for what” -johnny

“for fun. pleaseeee” -you

*johnny pulls out his wallet and gives you $40*

could he afford it? no. can he say no? also no.

the absolute fear he felt when you got your first period

“it’s fine, i can call mom” -you

“no, it’s not fine! i’ve had girlfriends before, i got this. stay here, i’ll be back” -johnny

he went to the store and bought the most random assortment of period products and pain meds and snacks and a heating pad

A for effort

when the diaz family moved in across from you guys, miguel took one look at you and johnny said:

“stay away from my daughter”

when the karate fuss got started you tried to keep your distance but sooner or later you joined the dojo and proved to your dad just how “badass” you could be

“take notes everyone, y/n’s gonna be the next all valley champ!” -johnny

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @retvenkos // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @sapphireplums // @petersgroupie // @ravenhood2792 // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @elemental-of-magic //

[gay-dorito-dust]

I saw the Dad! Stanley, could you make the Dad! Stanford one? Like how his reaction come back after 30 years saw Reader already become responsible adult

-🐈‍⬛

Ford kept a picture of you -his life’s greatest achievement- in his pocket at all times during his time in the multiverse, reminding him of who he had waiting for him back home when he felt as though he was at his limit.

Being a father was never on the docket but the moment you entered his life he dedicated himself to raising you as best as he could, even going so far as to do extensive amounts of research in preparation for any and every vital moment of your life.

You had became a pivotal part of his life and made everything he did even more important for he was doing it for you and the future you’d live in. He wanted you to grow up prepared for anything and everything life would throw at you, along with how to handle yourself for the inevitable day where he couldn’t be with you anymore. (He hates it as much as you did)

He commemorates everything you did and dedicated parts of his journals to you and your growth or things that you did that made him laugh. (You wore his coat once and Ford was fighting the demons within him known as cuteness aggression because of how it swamped your tiny form.)

An excerpt:

‘They look at me like I’m something and I’m worried that one day they’ll grow up and not view me as such when they see what I’ve done when they slept soundly in their crib, but all I do, I do for them.’

However this desire to watch you grow and be apart of your important developmental stages would be cut short when he fell into the portal when you were just 8 years old.

His last words before the portal closed entirely to Stanley were: ‘no! Y/n! I haven’t done everything I’ve wanted to do with them yet! Go trick or treating with them on Summerween! Go Fishing! Watch them grow up! Stanley, don’t leave them alone, they really hate being alone!’

And raise you Stanley did as he would try his hardest to keep your memory of Stanford alive and well, thinking it was the best he could do after accidentally taking his brother from you. He’d even make a whole album for when Ford comes back from the day he fell into the portal.

Stanley didn’t miss a single moment to capture you doing something adorable (dressed up as a paranormal detective for the summerween he took you out on) or similar to Ford himself (becoming curious about about the mystery of Gravity falls after an incident with a bunny demon and even making a series of journals yourself)

Stanley made sure to capture every little thing he could from you helping him run the shack, to you making your first friends, your little experiments on how much food Soos could stuff in his face without getting full. Which was fun until he always threw up.

You were so much like Ford it hurt Stanley to look at you sometimes because all he could see was his brother in you that he had to look away sometimes, and he knew that Ford would be so fucking proud of the person you grew up to be but also knew that he would hate himself for not being there for it all.

So when the day came when Ford finally retired home, his first words as he stepped out of the portal were; ‘where’s y/n?’

Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Stanley could only watch as you, a full grown adult of 38, stepped forward with tears in your eyes when meeting face to face with the man who raised you before his brother took over, reaching out to him whispering ‘dad?’

Ford was shocked to say the least when he looked over at this adult calling him dad, only for his brain to work fast and connect the dots as he pulls out the picture of you as a child from his coat pocket and made the connection that you and the smiling child in the picture he held close to his heart were one in the same.

You were now all grown up and he wasn’t there to see it happen with his own eyes, something that broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he never got the chance to see it himself! The coat that hung off of your frame was his, he could clearly tell but it didn’t swamp your form like it use to, it suited you and the makeshift journal Ford saw you had clutched in your hand and knew you were his child in more ways then one.

You had his curiosity and his need to understand the unknown to great but sometimes dangerous depths, god he missed you so fucking much, his sweet child and his sweet child you’ll always will be in his eyes as he watched as you quickly walked towards him and hugged his frozen form tightly as you wept in his shoulder.

‘Dad.’ You said. ‘I’m all grown up.’

Ford chuckled weakly as he too found himself unable to keep the tears at bay, ‘I can see that sweetie pie,’ he said as he held you tightly against him. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to see it.’ He adds knowing that this will be one of his life regrets until the day he died, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use this time to catch up with you and learn all about you all over again.

‘It’s okay.’ You reassured him, clinging onto him as though he’d disappeared again. ‘It’ll give me an excuse to talk your ear off about all my expeditions, my theories and my thoughts on everything that’s been going off here.’

‘They really are cut from the very same cloth as you.’ Stanley told Stanford as he watched you tuck Dipper and Mabel into bed that night. ‘They’re smart and even graduated from a prestigious college at the top of their class, they were even valedictorian just like you back in highschool, but they came back to gravity falls because they wanted to dedicated themselves to helping me in getting you back.’ He adds as Stanford looks at his twin with tears in his eyes.

‘And I wasn’t there to watch them walk across that stage…’ he mutters and Stanley pulls out a photo that he had taken during your graduation ceremony and gave it to Ford who could only smile weakly as he took you in. You had blossomed so much when he was away and it broke Ford even more when he realised that he knew little to nothing about you now.

‘I’m such a terrible father.’ He tells Stanley who grips him by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye.

‘Hey! You are not a terrible father, they love you so much that they stay up late at night trying to decipher you work in hopes of finding a lead so that they could have their father back in their life. So don’t you dare say that about yourself when they’ve nothing but miss their father for the past 30 years!’ Stanley scolded him just as you walked into the hallway after bidding dipper and Mabel goodnight.

You heard them but decided not to speak up about it, after all today had been quite emotionally exhausting and all you wanted to do was sleep. ‘I’m going to bed, good night dad, good night uncle Stan.’

‘Hold it you.’ Stanley said as he walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling away as he smiled at you. ‘Night pipsqueak.’ You smiled back before looking over at Ford, wanting to go to him and Stan could see the conflict in your eyes and pushed you towards his twin before retreating to his room.

‘So I was thinking that we could go monster hunting…you know like father and child. I’ve been trying to track down this dragon like creature that’s said to live on the highest mountain of gravity falls since its conception.’ You said awkwardly as Ford smiled at you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

‘I’d be glad too sweetheart, you don’t have to ask me to spend time with you because I’ll always want to spend time with my child.’ He replied and you couldn’t help but smile widely as you hugged him tightly again. Needless to say you and Ford made up for lost time in quick succession as you both ran away from being burnt alive by the massive dragon that was originally thought to be a myth.

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, domestic scenes, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of marriage | wc: 744

‘is he okay?’ 

‘mmm’ seungcheol nods, carefully closing the door behind him. ‘he’ll be fine. he fell asleep but i’ve kept the puke bucket next to the bed incase he needs it’ 

‘cheollie, we really need to throw that thing’ you make a face, thinking about how many times it had been used. 

‘yeah, but people keep throwing up in our house!’ 

‘that’s because you keep making them drink way too much!’ seungcheol’s “home bar” was 3 bottles short of a liquor store. he was extremely proud of his collection and very generous with it, offering offensively expensive drinks to any and every guest that entered your home.

tonight, passed out in the guest room was hoshi, who had been taken out midway through his fourth drink. he hadn’t even made it to the dinner part of the dinner party you both were hosting.

seungcheol pouts in response, picking up a dirty glass left on the bar ‘do you want me to do the dishes, my love?’ 

‘nope, i’ve got it. can you clean up and take out the trash instead?’ he gets on it right away, pausing for a second to rub your shoulders when bringing the glass over. a second turns into a minute, and the rub into a mini massage as his fingers move deftly, kneading all those little knots away.

‘thank you baby, i needed that’ you sigh, and the next thing you know his arms are wrapped around you, his chin resting on the slope of your shoulder ‘you know what was really nice today?’ 

‘hmmn?’ 

‘you know when joshua’s friend…mark? yeah, mark. when he thought we were married’

it was first time it had ever happened. ‘so, how did you and your husband meet?’ mark had asked.

‘oh, he’s my boyfriend’ you had corrected him and moved on, but seungcheol was stuck right there. boyfriend? no, that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore. why would he ever want to be called your boyfriend when he could be your husband instead? a demotion, really.

‘i liked it. a lot. husband-’ he presses a kiss to the warm skin of your neck ‘-and wife’, and another, before pulling you into him. he brings his arm forward to turn off the tap before turning you around to face him.

‘what do you say? should we do it? get married?’ each question asked in between little pecks.

‘if this is your idea of a proposal-’

he chuckles, circling back ‘get married. make you my wife. get you…pregnant’ seungcheol feels a little giddy honestly, giddy at his own words. he’s already made up his mind — he wants this future, and only with you.

‘you want to put a baby in me?’ you tease, starting to feel a little hot under your clothes.

‘oh, i want to put many, many babies in you’ he mutters, his lips parting yours, impatient hands coming around to untie the knot of your apron.

‘want to put one in you right now...’ he grabs your ass to lift you up, your legs wrapping around him instantly. you pull off your rubber gloves, tossing them aside and lock your arms around his neck. you kiss him, a little needily, tugging at his hair to let him know you need him right here, right now. he turns around to take you to the kitchen island, opening his eyes for a second to see hoshi — hoshi who’s discreetly trying to make his way out of the kitchen.

‘shit!’ seungcheol’s grip on you loosens abruptly before he catches you, carefully putting you down.

‘sorry! i’m so sorry!’ hoshi covers his eyes, stumbling back ‘i didn’t see anything. i just..i threw up..in that bucket thing and didn’t know what to do with it’

‘it’s fine, it’s fine. go to the room. i’m coming’ seungcheol takes a second to calm himself down, taking deep breaths to redirect his blood flow.

‘this is what it’s going to be like with a kid, you know’ you joke, bending to grab the fallen gloves which doesn’t help his raging boner at all ‘at least hoshi can clean up after himself up. who’s going to clean up our child’s projectile vomit?’

there’s a moment of silence.

‘not it’

‘not it!’

you both giggle — you turning back to do the dishes, and seungcheol going to check up on hoshi, both of you back in the moment, dreaming of the future to come.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Stress Relief

Summary: After a recent promotion, Javi has had a lot on his plate. Thankfully, you know just what to do to help him de-stress.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, post season 3)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (make safe choices pls), oral (m receiving), creampie, size kink (ish?), praise kink, sex as stress relief, Subby, whimpering Javi because giving him a surprise blowjob when you know he's stressed would make him crumble, this is literally porn without a plot WHOOPS

A/N: Shoutout to my job for having a system wide data outage today so I didn't have to work and got to write this instead 🤪 Poor bby cow eyes deserves all the stress relief in the world, and who am I to deny him 🤷🏼‍♀️ Also proud of myself because this is the first thing I've written without an obscene breeding kink in God knows how long, gold stars for me LMAO

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

“You’re still working?” 

“No, I just really like sitting here and going through all this fucking paperwork for fun.” Javi sighed, sarcasm oozing out of his words as he leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

As thankful as Javi was for his much more structured, low risk job at the Laredo Sheriff's Department compared to his time back in Colombia, his recent promotion had put way more on his plate than he had expected. 

Begrudgingly, Javi had been bringing work home with him most nights to make up for what he couldn’t finish in the office, leaving him in an exceptionally sour mood that he was spending his nights finishing paperwork instead of spending time with you. 

“Sorry, I’m not trying to be an asshole, Querida.” Javi huffed, upset with himself that any ounce of him was resorting to taking his frustrations out on you. “I just- I’ve just been really stressed about trying to get all this shit done.” 

“Really? I can’t tell. You don’t seem stressed at all.” You quietly teased, your sarcasm enough to at least crack a small smile out of his pouted frown. 

Pushing the office door open, you softly padded into the room, placing yourself behind Javi’s desk chair and draping your arms around his shoulders, gently resting your chin on his shoulder. His hands reached up to wrap around your arms now resting against his chest, his thumbs rubbing soft circles onto your skin as he let out a heavy sigh, your presence flooding him with at least a little bit of calm amongst the chaos.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” You asked, pecking a soft kiss onto the scratchy stubble of his cheek. 

“No, it’s just some paperwork shit.” 

“You sure?” 

“No, thank you though, Hermosa. I promise I’ll be done soon, baby.” 

Javi assumed his reply and gentle pat to your arm still wrapped around him would have enough to send you back out of his office so he could finish the rest of his work, but as your lips began to slowly travel from his cheek to down his neck and back up to nibble at his ear while your hands slid down his chest, he slowly realized that your offer to help had nothing to do with the actual work he needed to finish. 

“You sure there’s nothing? It sure seems like you could use some stress relief, Javi.” The tone of your voice shifting from sweet and innocent to low and sultry, the whisper of your words dancing in Javi’s ear and fingertips raking lower across his stomach and thighs making his breath hitch in the back of his throat as he realized what kind of “help” you were planning to offer him.

You smirked as you watched the bulge in his slacks begin to stiffen, your hand just grazing along the seam of his crotch while you kissed his neck, sucking at his pulse point and nipping at his skin. You could practically feel Javi melting into his chair at your touch, hoping that your plan would provide your husband with some much needed stress relief. 

“Pobrecito (Poor thing). You’re so tense. And so hard,” You laughed quietly to yourself, hand now cupping the full blown erection in his pants, “You gonna let me help you, baby? Help you get rid of some of this stress?” 

You began to swivel his desk chair to face you, Javi’s lips already parted for his heavy breaths as his hungry gaze met yours. Slowly, you climbed into his lap, your legs straddling over his hips as your hands ran up and down his chest, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt to expose his soft and tanned skin. 

Your mouths met in a hungry clash of tongues and teeth, capturing Javi’s muffled moans as you kissed him with an electric intensity that already had him needily bucking his hips up into you, desperate to ease how painfully hard he was from the few short moments since your proposition. 

Javi could barely find it in his mind to string together a coherent sentence, frantically nodding his head in agreement to your question between sloppy kisses, letting his hands roam down your back until they were grabbing your ass, kneading the plump flesh in his grasp. 

“Use your words, Javi. You want me to take care of you?” You cooed, grinding your hips into his lap as you watched his head tip back against the chair, jaw going slack and mind running blank as you rubbed against the straining fabric of his pants. 

“Fuck. P-Please, baby.” He moaned, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he gulped, trying to use any ounce of composure he could to somehow make words travel from his brain to his mouth. 

“Good boy.” You smirked, placing one last kiss on his lips before climbing off his lap to settle yourself between his legs on the floor, letting your fingers toy with the clasp of his belt buckle until it broke free.

“Fuck me.” Javi whispered to himself under his breath, watching you free his belt to carefully unzip his slacks, lifting his hips just enough to help you pull down his boxers to reveal his aching cock, tip already red and precum weeping from his slit. 

“Maybe if you behave and let me take care of you, then yes.” You teased before letting your kisses trail up his thighs, inching closer and closer to his length, only making him groan more. His hand ran through the dark locks of his thick brown hair, trying to center himself enough to keep from busting right then and there. 

Your hands ran up and down his thighs as you scooted closer to him, kisses trailing behind the gentle graze of your fingertips up towards his length. You couldn’t help but smirk at him with a devilish grin, seeing how needy and worked up he already was without you even touching him yet. 

Letting your lips inch closer and closer to the base of his cock, your hand wrapped carefully around him, your thumb swiping over his tip and collecting the precum that had been leaking from it, sending a shiver down his spine and a low groan in his chest.

Slowly, your kisses made their way up his length, your lips replacing your hand, tenderly licking at sucking at his tip, eliciting a low groan from deep within his chest. “Relax, Javi. Let me take care of you, okay?” You cooed, letting his cock tap against your tongue before licking a long strip from base to tip, the sensation making him shutter. 

“O-kay. Fuck- Yeah, okay, baby.” He managed to stammer out, looking down at you perched between his legs, beginning to sink your mouth down on his length, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him hitting the back of your throat, coming back off him with a pop and a satisfied smile, batting your lashes at him. 

Javi’s head hit the back of his chair as you began to repeat the motion, slowly taking the full length of his cock in and out of your mouth, letting his tip graze the back of your throat with each movement.

Letting your tongue drag up his shaft, your lips wrapped around his tip, sucking and flicking at his most sensitive spots. One hand was wrapped around his cock and working in tandem with your mouth, while the other grasped at his bare thigh, fingertips digging into his skin. 

You began to pick up your pace, shifting your hand to cup his balls so you could take him back into your throat, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

You couldn’t help but let a small smirk form between your lips as you worked at his cock, seeing and hearing just how wrecked Javi was from the short time that you had gone down on him, quiet whimpers and moans escaping from his lips, followed by muffled whispers of mixed expletives in Spanish and English to himself in any attempt to keep from spilling down your throat just as soon as you had started. 

“Jesus fucking Christ… F-fuck me. You feel- mierda- you feel so good, Hermosa.” Javi managed to stammer out between gasps, looking down at you nestled between his legs with a desperate expression painted across his face, already feeling his balls beginning to tense and stomach start to swirl. 

While you knew it wouldn’t take much more to get Javi to your intended point of stress relief, you selfishly couldn’t deny the fact that you were now also in need of your own relief, feeling the arousal that had been pooling in your underwear, coating the inside of your thighs and forcing you to squeeze them together in attempts to ease your growing ache. 

Pulling off Javi’s cock and planting a soft kiss to his tip, you peered up at him with a devilish grin, phrasing your next proposition as a question, even though you undoubtedly already knew what his answer would be. 

“You wanna cum down my throat, or cum inside me? You choose, handsome.” You cooed, fingertips grazing the inside of his thighs as your kisses trailed behind, teasing Javi to the point you were half convinced he might cum just like this, considering his half coherent babbles as he tried to string together words to form any sort of thought. 

“I-inside. Fuck- Let me cum inside you, please.” He stammered, nodding his head frantically in confirmation of what you already knew would be his answer. 

Gripping your hands around his thighs to push yourself up to stand, you reached down to tug the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, quickly followed by your bra, both now crumpled in a pile on the floor. 

You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at how Javi was gawking at you and your now bare chest, eyes bulging out of his skull and jaw hitting the floor as if he was a goddamn cartoon and it was the first time he had seen you topless in his entire life. 

Your bottom half slowly followed the same fate as your top, pants and underwear shuffling down your hips and legs until they were pooled around your ankles, leaving you completely naked as you began to crawl back into Javi’s lap. 

You let your legs straddle over his hips, your cunt ghosting over his cock as you placed your hands on his stomach, letting them slide up his chest until they were buried in the thick locks of his dark hair, gripping and tugging his curls while your mouth engulfed his in an electric kiss. 

A soft moan rumbled in your chest as his firm grasp found a home on your hips, his fingers digging into the meat of your stomach, holding on for dear life while he felt you hovering over his length. 

“Please, Hermosa. I need to feel you, baby.” He whispered into your ear, now all but begging for you to sink down onto his cock and let himself get lost in the mesmerizing warmth and wetness of you. 

Reaching below you, you wrapped your hand around his cock, positioning it beneath you to lower yourself down, whimpering at the sweet stretch and sting of his girth, letting his tip kiss your cervix as he filled you with every inch of himself that you could take. For as many times as you had found yourself in this position, you were convinced that you would never get over just how full you felt with Javi inside you, and how breathtakingly incredible it felt. 

Cupping Javi’s strong jaw in your hands, your forehead rested against his as you let your hips start to grind into his, long and languid circles of your lower half, rolling back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. 

“Fuck me. Holy fuck.” Javi groaned, his hands snaking up your front to grab your breasts, kneading the soft flesh greedily in his hands. His fingers reached for your pebbled nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger, the new sensation sending a jolt of pleasure to your core. 

That, combined with the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously on your clit and the way Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot was already making you see stars, vision going white and brain going blank from just how good he felt buried inside you.

Instinctively, you rocked your hips faster, feeling an all too familiar tingle begin to build at the base of your spine. Almost as if Javi could sense the way your cunt was starting to clench around his length, he couldn’t help but buck his hips up into yours, his thrusts filling you in a way that had you absolutely reeling and breathless, the two of you both teetering on the brink of collapse to chase your own highs. 

“You feel, oh shit- you feel so good, Javi. Feel so good inside me. I’m close, baby.” You whimpered, burying your hands in the sweat curled hairs at the nape of his neck, lost in your own pleasure as your stomach swirled faster and faster with arousal. 

You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you and nearly incomprehensible babbles were all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone. 

“Yeah? F-fuck, I love being inside you. So fucking wet and tight, holy fuck.” 

You could feel your walls beginning to tighten around him, moaning as you buried your head in the crook of his shoulder, fingernails digging crescent moons into his skin as you braced yourself for the wave that was about to crash through you. 

 “Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me, Osita. Wanna feel you soak my lap before I fuck you full of me. Gonna cum so deep inside this tight little pussy.” Javi reached down so the pads of his fingers rubbed along your clit as you rolled your hips, sinking yourself deeper onto his cock with each thrust, your vision going white as you could feel yourself come undone. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckkkkkkkk!” You cried out as you felt your orgasm pulse through you, pleasure shooting through your body as you came, clamping down around Javi’s cock and gushing with your arousal, your body melting limp into his as he followed suite. 

“That’s it, baby. I’m gonna- fuck- g-gonna cum too. Fuck me, gonna fill you so full of me you’re- oh shit- gonna be dripping out of me f-for da- Oh fuckkkkkk-” With a final stutter of his hips, Javi thrust up into you, letting the warm rush of his spend coat your walls, milking himself of every last drop before carefully pulling out, letting the rhythmic breathing of your chests rising and falling sync together. 

“Holy fuck.” Javi sighed, kissing your bare shoulder before letting his plush lips peck across your neck and jawline before meeting yours. “I think it worked.” 

“Think what worked?” You asked, still trying to come to in your blissed out state, gently combing your fingers through the sweat ridden curls of Javi’s hair, giggling as he knowingly ghosted his fingers across your stomach, smiling to himself at your ticklish laughter. 

“The stress relief. God, I love you. I’ll never know what the fuck I ever did to deserve you, but I won’t question it. Thank you, baby.” Javi grinned, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, leaving his other arm to wrap around your waist and pull him closer to his chest. 

“I love you, too, Jav. Glad I could help. Hopefully this was enough motivation to get you through the rest of your work.” 

As you started to scoot yourself off Javi’s lap to clean up the mess of arousal, clothes, and a few scattered papers you had left in your wake, you were taken aback to feel his grip tighten around you, holding you in place. 

“It’s gonna be a long night, because I’m not even close to being done.” Javi smirked, his tongue darting between his lips as his eyes darkened with a hungry gaze. 

“Then you need to let me get off you, you goofball. Last time I checked, your naked wife sitting on your lap isn’t helping anyone to get paperwork done.” You teased, playfully crossing your arms over your chest, tilting your head at Javi in a mix of sass and confusion until a shriek of surprise escaped from your chest as Javi stood up to set you on top of his desk, caging his broad body over yours. 

“Oh I’m done with all of this shit,” He paused, gesturing to his desk before letting his kisses lazily trail down your body until he was on his knees with your legs draped over his shoulders, spreading them open to reveal the swollen and glistening mess still between your thighs, “but there’s not a chance in hell I’m done with you.” 

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @purpleprincess75 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

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@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[itneverendshere]

rafe finding out you’re back to not taking care of yourself, especially when he’s coming back from rehab. you’re going back to full swing less than bare minimum to take care of yourself

thank you for the request!!🩷 hope you enjoy!!

the way you hold me is actually what's holy - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe had this whole plan in his head.

He was finally back in town after spending the better part of six months at that damn rehab center. Finally clean, head clear, body feeling... normal, or at least as normal as it got after kicking all the shit he put himself through. The whole time he was there, he thought about you. How you visited him every week no matter how exhausted you were from your shifts now that you’d been promoted. How you took extra days off work for him, even when you couldn’t afford to miss them. How you always brought him a home-cooked meal because you knew he hated everything they gave him at that place.

And he promised himself that when he came back, things were gonna change. He was gonna change—for you.

It was all worked out. He’d show up at your sister’s place a day before he was supposed to leave, surprise you, maybe bring some flowers. Then he’d ask you to move in with him. He thought about it day and night. He was tired of that house. Of having his dad constantly hovering over his shoulder, even when he was miles away. He was gonna get a new place, not one of those temporary rentals where he barely unpacked his bags. A real place, a clean slate.

A new start. For the both of you.

But when Monica opened the door, his plans went out the window.

“Rafe?” Her eyes widened for a second before her face broke into the widest smile he’d seen in months. And before he could even get a word out, she threw her arms around him, hugging the living hell out of him like it had been years instead of just months. "Oh my God, you’re back! You look... you look amazing."

The way Monica squeezed him, how genuinely happy she was to see him—it hit him harder than he expected. Rehab was tough. Really tough. And he didn’t expect people to be waiting for him on the other side, not like this.

"I’m back," he muttered, hugging her tightly as he let himself breathe for the first time since stepping out of that damn place. Monica had been there for him too, just like you had. She’d kept you company sometimes when you went on those long drives to visit him. He didn’t deserve people like you two in his life, but he wasn’t going to take it for granted.

Monica pulled back but kept her hands on his shoulders, her eyes sparkling with this genuine pride. "You look healthy. I mean, really healthy. It’s good to see you like this."

Rafe smiled, a little bashful. "Yeah. Feels good to be back. I’ve been, you know, working on shit."

She smiled back, her eyes glinting with emotion. "I���m so proud of you, Rafe."

His throat tightened at that. He wasn’t used to hearing those words, you were the only one constantly reminding him of it. Everyone else said it with some hidden judgment or expectation behind them, like they were waiting for him to screw up again. But Monica meant it. She always did. She was your sister, after all.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, feeling more awkward than he should’ve, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m trying, you know?”

She squeezed his shoulder before stepping back, "You here to see her?"

"Yeah. I, uh... wanted to surprise her.”

The smile on Monica’s face dropped just a little, and Rafe’s stomach sank instantly. He knew that look. It was the same one you got when you didn’t want to tell him something that might hurt him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, even though he already had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.

Monica sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before she leaned back against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "She’s at work right now."

“At this hour? I thought she—”

“She’s been working extra shifts. A lot of them.”

Rafe frowned. You already worked so much as it was. Extra shifts? Why? He thought things had been better for you since he left, that you had more time to focus on yourself, maybe even catch up on the sleep you’d missed while dealing with his mess. “Why? She didn’t tell me she was working more.”

Monica sighed again—something that made Rafe know he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear, “She didn’t want you to worry. She didn’t want anyone to worry, actually.”

“Monica, what’s going on?” The anxiety clawed at his chest. He hated not knowing. Hated being in the dark, especially when it came to you.

Her eyes softened, and she took a step closer, like she could feel the panic building inside him. “Listen... she’s not taking care of herself. She’s been putting everyone first—Milo, her job, you—but she’s not eating enough, she’s not sleeping enough. She’s been burning herself out.”

Rafe’s heart sank. You hadn’t said a word about it to him. Not during any of his calls or visits. You were always smiling, always saying things were fine. But they weren’t.

He should’ve known. Should’ve seen the signs.

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell anyone. That’s the thing. You know she doesn’t ask for help. She just... takes it all on, even when it’s too much. And with you gone... I think she felt like she had to be strong for you, like she couldn’t let herself fall apart because you were going through so much.”

You had been falling apart, and he didn’t even see it. He’d been so focused on getting himself together that he didn’t notice you slipping. And now he didn’t know how to fix it.

“I should’ve done something.”

“No.” Her voice was firm, and she reached out to touch his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “This isn’t on you. You were getting better, doing what you had to do. She loves you, okay? She wasn’t going to let you worry about her while you were in rehab. She’s always been like this. Always putting herself last. It’s not about you. It’s about her not knowing how to let people take care of her.”

Rafe’s chest tightened, his mind flashing through all the times you’d pushed aside your own needs in the past, all the times you’d taken care of him instead of yourself. He thought that was never going to happen again. He’d been so blind to it, thinking you were the strong one. But you were just as fragile as he was, maybe more, because you didn’t let anyone see it.

"She’s working until midnight tonight. You should go talk to her. But... don’t be mad, okay? She’s doing the best she can."

Rafe nodded, his throat tight. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t angry at you. He was angry at himself for not seeing it sooner. For letting you drown under the weight of everything while he was too busy figuring out his own shit. “I’ll go see her.”

Your sister gave him a small smile, a little sad but understanding. “She needs you. Just... be there for her, okay? And don’t guilt-trip her about this. She already feels like she’s failing everyone.”

“I won’t,” he promised, even though the guilt was eating him alive inside. He had to be strong for you now, the way you’d been strong for him all this time. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix this.

With that, he left, heading to his truck, his mind spinning the whole way to The Country Club. He didn’t know how he was going to make this right, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you keep doing this. He wasn’t going to let you fall apart, not when he was here now, ready to carry some of the weight for you.

The country club was quieter than usual when he pulled into the parking lot, but the bar inside was still buzzing with its usual evening crowd. He walked in, scanning the room, his eyes instantly finding you behind the bar.

You were moving like a pro, handing off drinks, shaking up cocktails, giving out that charming smile you always had for the customers. But now that he knew what was going on, it was easy to see how tired you looked. The dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped just a little between orders. You were running on empty, and it broke his heart.

Before he could even think of what he was going to say to you, your eyes found his across the room. For a second, everything seemed to stop. Your eyes widened in surprise, and your breath hitched, like you couldn’t believe he was actually there. He felt his heart skip a beat, and then—

“Rafe?” you breathed out, your voice soft and disbelieving. Without another thought, you bolted from behind the bar, not even bothering to tell anyone to cover your shift.

He barely had time to react before you practically jumped into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms circled his neck. You clung to him like a koala bear, and Rafe caught you, holding you tight against him, his heart racing as he buried his face in your neck.

“Holy shit, you’re really here,” you mumbled into his neck, your voice strained with emotion. You clutched him tighter, like if you let go, he’d disappear. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” He explained, his voice muffled against your skin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, even with all the heavy stuff on his mind. Just having you in his arms again felt like a weight lifting off his chest.

You leaned back just enough to look at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears as you cupped his face in your hands. “God, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too baby.” He pressed his forehead to yours, his hands gripping your waist. “I’m back, okay? I’m here.”

A small laugh bubbled out of you, even though there were tears running down your cheeks now. “I can’t believe I’m crying at work. I never cry at work.”

Rafe grinned, brushing your tears away with his thumb. “I’ll let it slide this time.”

You laughed again, but then you seemed to remember where you were. You glanced over your shoulder at the bar, where a few customers were still waiting for their drinks. “Shit, I— I’m working."

He set you down gently, his hands still resting on your waist as you adjusted your shirt and ran a hand through your hair, clearly flustered but trying to get back into work mode. “I should get back to it.”

“Take a break,” He pleaded, his hand moving to grab yours. “Please.”

You blinked up at him, the tiredness you’d been hiding for months finally showing through. For once, you didn’t argue. You just nodded, squeezing his hand before leading him to quieter corner of the bar where you could talk without interruption. Once you sat down across from him, you took a deep breath, like you already knew something was coming.

“What did Monica say?”

Rafe paused, his fingers absentmindedly drumming on the table as he tried to figure out how to start. “She told me you’ve been overworking yourself. Taking extra shifts, not sleeping, not eating enough.”

You sighed heavily, leaning back in your seat and rubbing a hand over your face. “She wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Rafe asked. He wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, but he needed to understand. “You’ve been doing all this, and you didn’t say a word to me.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers twisting together in your lap. “You were in rehab, baby. You were going through so much, and I didn’t want to add to your stress. I didn’t want you to feel guilty about me.”

“You don’t have to carry everything on your own,” Rafe said softly, his chest tightening. “I know I was a mess before, but I’m better now. I want to be there for you the way you were there for me. The way we used to be before.”

You shook your head, “I just... I didn’t know how to stop. You needed me, Monica needed me... work needed me. And I thought, if I just kept going, I could handle it.”

He reached across the table, grabbing your hands and holding them tight. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time you didn’t try to hide them. You let them fall, your grip tightening on his hands like you were afraid to let go. “I don’t know how to let go again.”

“Let me help,” Rafe whispered, leaning closer. “You’ve always been there for me, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. You don’t have to keep doing this by yourself.”

You nodded slowly, wiping at your tears with a shaky hand. “I just... I didn’t want to be a burden.”

The conversation gave him a sense of Deja Vu. You two had been here before.

“You’re not a burden,” Rafe said firmly, “You’ve never been a burden. You’re everything to me. And I don’t want you burning yourself out like this. Not for me, not for anyone.”

You took a deep, shaky breath, your eyes meeting his again. “I just missed you so much. And I didn’t know how to handle everything without you.”

Rafe’s heart clenched at the honesty in your voice, and he reached out, pulling you into his arms again. “I’m here now. We’ll figure this out together, okay? You don’t have to keep doing this alone.”

You clung to him, your face buried in his chest as you finally let yourself relax in his arms. And he held you determined to make things right. He was going to be there for you, the way you had always been there for him.

It felt so good to be in his arms, to finally let yourself feel vulnerable after holding everything together for so long. You closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. You could see how much he cared, and it made you feel safe, but also exposed, it’s like you’d momentarily forgotten how good it felt to be so close to him.

As if reading your mind, he brushed a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, “I don’t want to see you like this anymore,” he said quietly. “You deserve more.” You opened your mouth to retort, but the words stuck in your throat as he continued, “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future while I was gone, and I know things have been tough for both of us, but I want to make them better. I want to be better. I want you to be better.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, your heart pounding as you searched his eyes for answers.

He took a deep breath, his expression serious but tender. “I want you to move in with me.”

All you could do was blink in surprise.

“Rafe...” Move in? After everything? After months of barely surviving and keeping your head above water, now he was asking you to dive into something that felt... big. Scary even. You blinked again, and the look on his face was so serious, like he’d thought about this a hundred times over. Maybe he had. But you hadn’t. You’d been too wrapped up in keeping things from crashing to even imagine a future like that, let alone moving in with him. “Are you serious?” 

Rafe’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, “Yeah. I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t want to be apart anymore. I don’t want you running yourself into the ground, and I sure as hell don’t want you dealing with everything alone. I’m here now. I want us to have a fresh start, together.”

Your heart clenched. This was the Rafe you’d always believed in, the one you saw past all the shit he went through. And it was everything you wanted—more than you’d let yourself hope for. But then the doubt crept in. What if it was too much, too soon? What if things went wrong?

You dropped your gaze, focusing on the way your fingers tangled together, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t even know if I’m ready. I mean, everything’s been so... I don’t know, chaotic lately. I can barely keep my own life together.”

He let out a soft sigh, leaning closer. “I get that. I do. But that’s why I’m asking. We don’t have to do it all at once. We can take it slow. I just... I don’t want you to feel like you’re in this alone anymore. I need you with me, and I think you need me too.”

You did need him.

You’d missed him so much it ached, but you were terrified of leaning on him again, of letting yourself fall into something that might not last. But then again, wasn’t that what love was about? Taking chances, even when everything felt uncertain?

You swallowed hard, lifting your eyes to meet his. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But we take it slow, alright? I don’t want to mess this up.”

Rafe smiled, that slow, crooked grin that always made you fall deeper in love. “Slow is good. As long as we’re doing it together.” He tilted his head, watching you closely. He always seemed to know when you were lost in thought. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice was soft, patient, like he wasn’t in a rush for an answer.

You gave a half-smile, shaking your head slightly. “I just... it’s a lot, you know? If I start freaking out, you have to promise not to take it personally.”

He chuckled, the sound so familiar it almost made you cry all over again, “Deal. And if I start freaking out, you’ve gotta do the same.”

You smiled, finally feeling the tightness in your chest ease. Maybe this could work. Maybe the two of you could find your way back to each other. You believed him wholeheartedly. It wasn’t just the words; it was the way he looked at you, like he wasn’t just making promises he couldn’t keep anymore. He was standing in front of you, offering something real, something he was willing to put in the work for.

Rafe’s gaze softened, his lips quirking into a small smile as he cupped your cheek. "I know we say this all the time, but I love you," he said, like it was second nature, like he was reminding you of something you both already knew, something solid and familiar. There wasn’t any grand declaration because it didn’t need to be—it was the quiet kind of love that had been there all along.

You leaned into his touch. “I love you too.” The words came so easily, as natural as breathing, because they were always there, hanging between the two of you, even on the worst days.

His thumb stroked your skin his eyes never leaving yours. "We’ll figure it out," he whispered like he wasn’t just saying it for you, but for himself too. "We always do."

You nodded, the corners of your mouth lifting in a small, tired smile. “Yeah, we do.”

[glotoru]

ooh baby, ooh baby, i’m in love | eren jaeger.

the note 𐦍 i’ve recently been thinking about a successful, older (early to mid thirties), soft spoken eren who lives to spoil the woman of his dreams—so i’m gonna share this with y’all too. i’m actually just projecting our relationship. not proud of the ending but wtv. part two here. inspired by west coast, lana del rey.

contains 𐦍 nsfw, fem!reader, stupidly rich!eren, established relationship, vaginal sex, mating press, cervix kisses, use of pet names (princess, baby, my wife, the usual yk), unprotected sex, breeding, squirting, softie eren, mild body worship, size kink, hand on stomach while fucking mhm, i love you’s exchanged, praise kink, eren talks to your pussy while he’s in it, i’m thinking black reader but it’s all subjective babes: if you like it, read it!!

truth be told, eren jaeger doesn’t believe he has much to live for.

he’s kept his circle small for all of these ongoing years; with the occasional extension of acquaintances from work dinners, or christmas parties—though, he preferred to slip away from such events when eyes weren’t so…watchful. he likes to think his social battery has drained over the course of his life. looking back at his angstful teenage years, fourteen year old most likely wouldn’t recognize the person he is today.

his once intense nature that resembled an overbearing presence of loud determination turned calm—steadfast and slow to visible anger (with the exception of a passive aggressive comment here and there from simple annoyance). the short hair that once barely covered his nape now fell to his broad shoulders, however, he preferred to keep it up—maintaining appearances while keeping it convenient. the smaller five foot six body grew to an intimidating lean six foot four instead.

however, those things were quite trivial; he knew such changes happened with growth and eventual maturity.

but for a significant chunk of his life, eren was never the greatest with women. he was oblivious—blind to the wandering eyes full of admiration from girls in his classes and workplace—and nose deep in his books. he wouldn’t rest until he was on top of his grades; which he had no problem with. His emphasis on success failed him when it came to the dating scene; to say the least he was shy—and married to his work as well.

but on top of all this, eren was a patient man, and good things always comes to those who wait.

and when a dangerously beautiful woman comes wandering into his life on the street outside of an office dinner he gracefully slipped away from, asking him for an extra five dollars to help pay for her cab home from a no-show date—a woman that has him battling the slew of warning alarms sounding away in his usually zen mind and redefining what he thought was himself—he knows that he’s waited long enough.

simply put, he’s a man of his craft; dedicated to two things. his work, and his wife.

His wife—the phrase has his brain melting into pure grey matter that spills out his body in the form of love. To even think he has the opportunity to refer to you as such is priceless in itself. eren didn’t believe he could love—let alone love this hard. you ask him to run, he’ll say how far; jump—how high?

you’ve changed him—ever since he offered to drop you off in his sleek black mercedes benz parked somewhere by the valet and you giggled in response, saying ‘i’m not usually so trusting of strangers’ will the slightest glint of curiosity in your bright eyes.

and somewhere in between the months, his ten hour workdays turned to six, important software development meetings got pushed back for convenience, the accumulating days of paid time off started being used, for once, his assistant could do their job, and his new focus was you.

diamonds and pearls, nails and hair, dinners on boats and vacations on beaches, shopping sprees on his black card and all of his devotion towards you—only you.

eren…he’s a worshipper—it doesn’t take much for him to get on his knees for you. he’s not ashamed, if anything, he’s proud. he likes to say that anything that’s his, is yours; so who are you to deny what he gives you?

that’s another thing he oh so loves about you—you readily take everything he can offer. you let him take care of you, and he wouldn’t want it any other way; you’re his wife after all.

his wife, his wife.

“my wife…” eren mumbles to himself as he buries his face into the crook of your perfumed neck. the pronounced scent makes his head spin, you can’t fathom how in love with you this man is. as his large hands engulf your own, he’s met with the texture of your wedding ring that cost him over twenty grand, the one you cried over when you saw it in his hands offering it to you—but eren doesn’t think it does his adoration for you enough justice.

he prefers to show you.

while there’s no doubt that material items and dream homes are things you like to receive—there’s nothing better than the way he has you now, one leg resting atop his shoulder and the other barely slung around his waist as he steadily ruts his hips into your own.

oh, how could you be so beautiful? splayed out on the bed like a wicked man’s deepest desires and dreams; the one he secretly lusts for from across the room with no hopes to introduce himself because you’re just so out of his league. your hair is messily draped over the silk pillows, all remnants of your lipgloss/lipstick gone from your parted lips and instead smudged on his own, the gold necklace with his diamond initial was falling into the dip in your neck, and you were gazing at him with need. pure, heartfelt need.

your body arches towards him, manicured hands trailing towards your own chest to play with your nipples that hardened from the low temperature of the room. “i need you eren, make me feel you—i want it.” your voice is smooth, accompanied with a small whine that reminds him just how spoiled you are, and how it’s all his fault.

but he couldn’t care less—you deserve it for wandering into his life to make you his own.

“i know princess, i know.” he knows damn well you need him, he knows, he knows—he’s repeating it as he peppers a kiss to your jewelled ankle before pressing down on the back of your thigh to steady himself.

eren fucks like he loves—endlessly and hard.

maybe that’s why the way he bullies your pussy while bottoming out has you grasping at the threads of the sheets and chanting his name like a hymn followed by prayer. he lets your cunt feel every bit of him, the ridges—veins, down to the last inch. he’s terrifyingly big, another thing you love about him.

his dick feels like it’s mushing your insides, curving up against your spongy walls that oh so desperately tighten around him. every thrust is harder than his last, and the way the trimmed hair resting above his base brushes against your clit provides all the extra stimulation that has your head rolling to the side. your uncontrolled moans turn to sobs when you feel his tip tickle your cervix—and boy does it make him a rejuvenated man.

“look at me.” his words barely register as syllables in your clouded mind—you keep your head turned, eyes focused shut as your body shakes upwards from the fervour of his unrelenting tempo. there’s a lot of things eren can have, and you not watching the way his slick covered dick slips in and out of your weeping pussy isn’t one of them. “you have to look at me pretty girl.” his tone is soft but firm, thick fingers taking your chin in his hands and turning you towards him once again.

“see how well you’re taking me? all of it.” he gives you a million dollar smile, hinting for you to watch where the two of you connect. “your pretty cunt just wants it so bad, right?”

“oh, eren…” it’s always a sudden surprise how soiled his mouth can get at times like this. heeding his request, you watch his cock disappear in your folds—and you sight of it has you fluttering around him like a whore.

“you were made for me, weren’t you? prettiest sight i’ve ever seen.” you’ve heard his praises a multitude of times, having him ramble on about fucking you so much your walls moulded to fit him like a tight glove, only that now, he’s saying it to your pussy instead.

“only you ‘ren, was made just for you.” you babble out, feverishly bucking your hips up to meet his ruts.

when your eyes finally rip away from below and back up to his face, the look he wears has your cunt melting like putty. with furrowed brows, a dip in his forehead and a bitten lip, he watches your body move with each fuck. even in such a sinful position, you were just so divine.

almost subconsciously, his ringed hand moves from your hip and over to your torso, gliding over your pierced belly and stopped at your lower stomach, “I’m right here baby.” gently, he applies pressure to the spot, making your eyes blow open as you moan in response. the feeling gives you butterflies—ones that go straight to your clit and stimulate the nerves in your shaky legs.

“cummin—eren i’m cumming!” you’re rambling, scrambling to push his hand away from your belly, but it’s all too late, and eren knows that well. how could he not? your body is a temple, he’s explored every inch of it, and the sudden vice grip your walls have you him and periodic throb of your cunt is all too telling. your orgasm is drawn out, legs spazzing around your entranced husband, “mm, oh-fuck! yesyesyes eren, don’t stop!”

oh, aren’t you just perfect. his eyes soften when he watches how your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, only to capture it in a languid and sloppy kiss, teeth grazing your plump lips and sucking on them like a sweet. you whine he pulls himself away from your body completely, instead he takes the time to tack his thumb to your puffy clit, rubbing feint circles and the occasional attempted heart on the bud. he always does this, coaxing out the last of your orgasm with nimble fingers that you dream about

“you gonna let me take good care of you?” he asks softly between hushed breaths while grabbing hold of both your legs and hoisting them over his shoulders. helplessly, all you can do is nod; you’re in a trance at the very sight of him. his defined torso is illuminated by the back light of one of the many lamps in your bedroom, his hair is slipping from its captive elastic band, the grip of his hands on your ankles sends searing hot pulses straight to your sensitive clit.

he gives himself a few good pumps, sliding his length between your folds. your wetness aids him in bottoming out once again, but your sensitivity has you squirming in his hold. “gotta stay put baby.” he marvels, talking you into submission, “that’s my girl.”

his praises are followed by the shift of his hands down to the back of your thighs, they gently rub the plush skin before pushing them down to meet your chest. while there are some circumstances where looking down at you sparks something within him, eren likes to be eye to eye with you when he’s balls deep—turns him on even more being in such close proximity with such a captivating woman.

you squeal from the uncomfortable burn in your hamstring from being folded in half with the additional feeling of eren’s body weight on your own. you swear that you can feel your heart palpitating in your ears as you feverishly clench around him. “it’s too much! can’t take it, can’t take it!”

“of course you can, you know you can, your pussy takes everything i give it.” eren speaks between juts, pressing your knees to your shoulder blades as he pistons into you without any regard for decency. his thrust feel like a hammer, knocking your body into the memory foam mattress you begged him to buy.

stars cloud your eyes as he wraps himself tighter around you, head in the side of your neck as he peppers kisses across your skin. your pants and gasps are loud, amplifying the sounds of slapping skin and balls hitting the fat of your ass. his favourite part is when you dig your nails into his back, leaving cresent shaped imprints and jagged lines across it like a painter with a canvas; scars of your love.

deep groans fill your ear, soft and sweet; all eren can ramble about is you—how good you feel, how quick you can make him unravel like a ball of string, how lucky he is to have you in his life—the list goes on.

“i love you—fuck, i love you so much baby, you treat me so well.” with his declaration of love, his pace seems to increase, fucking you dumb and leaving you to heave for whatever air is left to breathe.

“i love you too, so much.” your eyes scramble around in your haywire brain, overloaded by the repeated feeling of the jackhammering going on in your walls and the non-stop cervix kisses he gives you. “it’s all yours, eren; you deserve it, you deserve this pussy. you married this, have it.”

eren jaeger doesn’t believe he’s deserving of much; has he earned things? yes. but you…laying beneath him, telling him he deserves you? it makes him never want to leave—not that he would dream of doing so in the first place.

he does deserve it—your words make his brain malfunction. he deserves it. fuck, you might just be the death of him.

you’re crying for him, grasping at any part of his body possible to get him closer to you than physically possible. your tighten around his base once more, and your hand flies down to messily prod at your clit in an attempt to play with it.

meanwhile, eren’s unrelenting pace falters; that man knows he’s going to cum soon, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do it with you. so he pleads with you to give him one more—telling you that you’ve got another one bundled up in there for him. to say it’s true is unknown, but your body listens to eren, and miraculously whatever he believes will happen comes to fruition.

but your body is delicate—everyone knows delicate things break under pressure. with the unrelenting strain and stretch his dick gives your walls, the tight feeling in your core, and aching numbness in your legs, your buildup feels much more violent—ready to release all built up tension given to you by your husband.

“eren—keep on going like this and i’m gonna make a mess!” you fuss around, hand reaching to gently push his torso away in fear you may soil the freshly made sheets.

“that’s the goal.” he states as a matter of factly, brows furrowing as a suppressed groan bubbles up from his chest at the thought: pretty little face going stupid and clawing at anything within reach as you writhe and cum all over his torso and lower body. you can’t make him budge now that he’s a determined man.

his strokes grow sloppy but powerful, curved cock repeatedly ramming into your spongy spot that force your plush walls to grip around him, “you’re eating me up here, love.” he mumbles, moaning into your mouth in the disguise of a messy kiss.

the last roll that tips you over the rocky edge is a shaky one, the last one he could give before emptying himself into you. it’s thick and hot and you feel it fill you as you twitch underneath him and cover his abdomen with your juices. wordlessly, his hands reach for yours as he stills; soft lips peppering the lining of skin on your cheek.

eren jaeger knows that change is inevitable—it comes with time. but eren jaeger also knows one thing will stay the same; his love and adoration for the pretty girl laying below him.

[steviesummer]

inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:

Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.

“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.

He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.

[miley1442111]

(part 2) choices and chances- art donaldson

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: the last time you're second-place to tashi

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, etc. +

PART 2 of 12

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Art ran through the science building, tennis bag swinging from his back as he raced through students to get to you. Patrick was hot on his heels, shouting ‘where are you going?’ and ‘can you slow down?!’. 

Art did not slow down. Art kept running. 

He knew this was his last and final chance, that if he didn’t make it to this, he would lose you for good. He was still sweaty from a warm-up session with Tashi 10 minutes ago, his hat was practically falling off his head but he couldn’t have cared less. 

As he came to a halting stop outside the lab you were having an exam in, his heart dropped when he saw the lights off and the chairs empty. He checked the time, 2:48pm. Your exam finished at 2:30, right?

Art opened your texts and scrolled back to the text in which you had told him about the date of your final exam, asking him to pick you up at 2:00pm. 

“Fuck!” Art shouted, gaining many stares from the students around him. He quickly dialled your number (he had learnt it by heart) only to be met with an automated voice telling him that his number was blocked. “Fuck!” 

His tennis bag was swung to the floor and he sat against the wall, anger and shame eating at him. You had a match against Tashi and a final science lab today, and he was too busy with Tashi, helping her warm up when he should've been with you. 

“Hey, at least you’re off the hook,” Patrick patted him on the shoulder and Art blew up. 

“I don’t want to be off the hook! I want her to be angry with me, I want her to see me, to want to see me! I want her to fight with me, because that’s all we fucking do nowdays and it’s all my fucking fault! Once again, I ruined the best chance I’ve ever had with tennis!” He shouted, standing up tall in front of Patrick. “And yes, Patrick, I’m aware that you’re dating Tashi and that you think I’m jealous, well I’m fucking not! I just want my girlfriend to still want to be my girlfriend! My Y/n to still be my Y/n! So don’t come to me every fucking time Tashi pisses you off, telling me that ‘I can have her’ because I don’t fucking want her!”

Patrick sat there stunned. Art had never raised his voice at him.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find my girlfriend,” Art said after gaining his composure once more, and starting to walk down the hall. 

“Ex-girlfriend!” Patrick shouted after him, rubbing salt in the wound. Art flipped him his middle finger, and set off to find you.

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Art didn’t find you before the match, but he was sitting beside an upset Patrick. 

You came out in your Nike tennis outfit, Tashi in her Adidas, and the match began. 

What ensued was real tennis. Tashi was talented, yes. But you, you were on fire. You beat Tashi Duncan. You actually beat Tashi Duncan. 

Art couldn’t have been more proud. Or worried. 

What if this actually was his last chance and he blew it on Tashi?

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He knocked on your dorm door with a bunch of lilies in his hand, your favourite. He had a whole plan, he would apologise, grovel, congratulate, then fuck you. Then, he’d spend all weekend with you and go into San Francisco for a city break. 

You opened the door wearing one of his sweaters, a sleepy, but upset look in your eyes. “What?”

“Can we talk?” He asked, a smile on his face at your beautiful and drowsy state. 

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes and stepped outside instead of letting him in. Odd. 

“I’m so sorry, I thought that the final ended at 2:30 and when I got there you were gone-”

“What time did you get there?” You asked, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“2:30?” he lied. 

“No you didn’t. I waited until 2:40 for you Art, fucking praying you would show up, don’t lie to me.”

Art sighed. “I’m sorry baby.”

“Look Art, I’m getting really tired of being second place to everyone, sorry- to Tashi, in your life so please just let me go,” you asked. “Now, I would really like to get back into my dorm.”

Art knew he had to fight for you. “Please, I wanted to make it up to you, I thought he could go to San-Fran this weekend, just you and me, no tennis, no distractions.”

“I have a match this weekend Art,” you rolled your eyes and Art sighed, realising he’d forgotten. “Y’know, the one you promised me you’d be at so you could meet my parents?”

“Yes of course, you know I’ll be there, I meant after we could go to San-Fran,” he smiled, his hands on your hips. 

“Don’t bother coming, we’re done,” you shoved his hands off your body and walked back to your door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very hot guy from my science class who would like to fuck me again, so I’ll see you around Arthur.”

You slammed the door in his face and his heart broke, he had lost you. 

He had made his choices, and lost all of his chances.

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navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

PART 3: choices and meetings

art donaldson masterlist :)

[whatifitis]

♡ In Between - FC 43 ♡

Summary: You and Franco has a nice night in, when you start to think about your guys relationship and wonder if it's time you tell him that you really like him.

WC: 2320

CW: overuse of song references, nothing really, it's quite fluffy, maybe some negative thoughts the reader has about themselves?

It’s a Saturday night, one of the least chaotic ones now that your best friend is a driver in F1. Franco was called up to fill Logan's seat for the rest of the season which is beyond exciting and you couldn’t be more proud. The only downside is that his schedule is so much more packed now that he’s getting acknowledgement from so many teams and people. All this new media coverage feels so insane. And something that doesn’t help is the fact that you’ve slowly been falling for Franco.

The two of you have been friends for a while. But in recent months, you’ve started to see him in a different light. You’re sure it’s just a crush but it’s been well over 2 months that you’ve felt this way. Some say that crushes only last about 2 months, once you’re past that mark, you’re actually in love with the person. You hoped this crush would go away, afraid to ruin what you have with Franco. Your relationship with him is the best that’s ever happened to you. You never want to lose him. But alas, the crush did not go away. So now you’re here.

It’s a bit late into the evening now. Franco asked you out for lunch earlier and now the two of you are lying on his bed, watching American Pie. The two of you were lying on the bed, side by side. Franco was lying with his back against the bed's headboard while you lied next to him on your side. The safest place you’ve ever known, next to him.

The two of you were halfway through the movie when he asked you a question that you didn’t quite catch the first time, so you angle your head up to look at him. As soon as you locked eyes with him, Franco couldn’t help but laugh. When you moved your head to look at him, your glasses had skewed on your face.

His laugh always was so contagious, it always got you laughing too. When you two had calmed your laughing fits, Franco took his hand and adjusted your glasses into the right position, before leaning forward and gently kissing your forehead.

“You’re beautiful… and funny… And smart. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.” You turned to bury your face in your hands, trying to hide your blushing face. You love it when he talks, not just about you. About anything really, he’s your favorite yapper and you wish you could listen to him all day. Your favorite sound ever.

“Hey, let me see that beautiful face again.” Franco says, grabbing your hand and moving it from your face. “Hi” he says when he can see you again. “Hi” you reply, smiling so hard. It was so hard to believe this was real, your guy's friendship. It was the type of relationship you’d always dreamed of, that sort of naive and innocent relationship that was filled with laughter and joy and… love? Was it too soon to use that word? Maybe considering you were just friends… Just. Friends.

“So,” Franco started, pulling you out of your thoughts, “What’s the dream?” “The dream?” you look at him, confusion written all over your face. “Yeah, the dream. Your dream. What you’re working towards.”

You laid there for a beat, thinking about it. What was your dream? All this time, you’ve just been focusing on surviving, not so much on the living.

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never really thought about it. I guess I want to finish my masters degree in uni. Then after that, just… live, I guess.” you look up at him with a smile. “That’s it? You don’t have any other goals or anything?” - his eyebrows furrow, showing you a confused expression. You shake your head no. “You’re kidding.” - Franco snorts in disbelief. “Well, what are yours? Your plans, goals.” You ask as you sit up against the headboard of the bed. “Em, well, I guess F1 was always a big goal, and now I have it.” he sits there for a second, thinking, twisting his lips as he does, “I’ve also always wanted to have a nice house for my family.” “What does this house look like?” you ask. He takes a moment to think, trying to come up with an honest answer for you. “I never really thought about that to be honest. I just want something nice with enough space for my family. I think a pool in the back would be nice. A big backyard so we could have barbecues as well.”

You’re smiling at him, admiring the person in front of you. You could find the whole meaning of life in those eyes. You’re glad he gets you, and your dark sense of humor. And when you let him in on all your bad decisions, he made them feel less terrible the second that he’d listen.

Don’t stop talking to me. Maybe stay here forever, with me.

“I think that sounds lovely.” you say. “Thank you.” he replies, blushing at your words, “What about your house? Your dream house. Surely you have a dream house.”

You sit up straight, so ready to answer this question. You won’t lie when you say you’ve always wanted to be asked about this. “I do. Um, well it would have a green kitchen. I saw a picture of one online a while ago and just became obsessed with the idea. And the bathrooms would be pink and red, I just think that would look sick. Oh! I also really want a blue hallway.” Franco gives you a confused look, “A blue hallway? For what?” “There’s this band that I love and in one of their music videos, the band painted a wall in the house blue.” “Ah. Which song is the one for the blue wall?” “It’s called True Blue. It’s a song about the person you love and who loves you. This person knows you so well, maybe even more than you know yourself.” “Interesting” he nods his head as he mentally writes down the name of that song so he can listen to it later. He turns his body more towards you, asking “Do you have a true blue?” “I think I’m slowly discovering mine” - you confess. “What about you? Got a true blue yourself?” He looks at you before looking down at his hands and failing to suppress a smile. “Yeah, I do.” “Well, go on. Tell me about them.” you insist. “She’s really cool.”

She? Was he talking to someone else? No, don’t be like that. Maybe it’s just a friend or something? Right?

“She is also really smart.”, he continues, “She loves reading and not only listening to music but also creating it.” Is he talking about me? I do that. “And she’s really good at that. She’s also the hardest working person I know. Like I mean she’s really smart, like Einstein smart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this. He’s definitely exaggerating but you have to admit, you’re pretty fucking smart.

“Oh, is she now? She must be one hell of a catch” “Oh trust me. She is and I’m very lucky to have her. She’s also the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. Not just on the outside, that’s an added bonus. But she’s just incredible. And she laughs at all my jokes. And when I save the dirty ones for her, her nose crinkles. It’s really cute actually. Her voice as well, oh my god. The best sound ever. Like when there’s something she’s really interested in or really passionate about, she could talk for hours. That’s one of my favorite things about her. That and her laugh, I wish I could bottle up the sound of her laugh and keep it with me, so I can listen to it whenever I want. Don’t even get me started on how she is with my family. They all get along so amazingly, it’s so much greater than anything I could ever imagine. I think one of the selling points was my family loving her as much as I do. This girl also will drop everything for those she loves. It doesn’t matter if she has work or school or anything, she will drop it just to make sure you’re okay. And she will beat anyone’s ass if they hurt you. I think I’m falling for her. I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I’ve seen her. Now it’s like there’s daylight. Whenever I’m with her, everything feels okay.” “Wow.” is all you can say in this moment. Was he really talking about you? Or are you wishfully thinking he is? “Yeah”, he blushes, “wow”

You take a moment to take all that information in. Maybe he wasn’t talking about you. You clearly see how amazing he is, other people are able to as well. Your mood kind of dampens from these thoughts. You really thought you two could be something. You guess you made it all up in your head, it’s just all one sided.

“What’s wrong?” Franco asks. “Hm? What?” you respond, startled from the sudden break of silence. “What’s wrong? You kind of spaced out.” “Oh, nothing. Was just thinking.” “About?” he responds, sitting up from the bed to lean a bit closer to you. “It’s really nothing. Let’s keep watching the movie” you try to smile and lighten the mood again.

You move to raise the volume on the tv, but you feel Franco’s hand wrap around your wrist lightly. You turn back to look at Franco. He looks confused, and a bit scared?

“Wait, I need to talk to you.”

Oh shit

You return to your spot on the bed, not fully relaxing as his last sentence is kind of terrifying. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” “I need to tell you something… about that girl.” “Oh”

Damn, alright. Keep bragging about how it’s not me, I guess.

“Well, I know she often thinks negatively about herself. Like she doesn’t deserve that type of stuff. Like love and happiness. She also has a hard time believing that people really do care about her. But I do, I love and care about her so much. And I know she’s afraid of letting people in, and she’s let me in a bit, but I want more with her.”

Ok, fuck me then. Wow, leave it to Franco to absolutely break my heart, unknowingly.

“So, what did you need from me?” “You dumb ass, it’s you! You’re the girl. You’re my true blue.” he lightly laughs.

What.

“What.” you stare at him blankly.

What the fuck? Is he for real right now? How though?

“I like you. I want more with you! You’re my true blue! I want you for worse or for better. I would wait for ever and ever.” - his tone is quiet as he confesses his feelings for you. You sit there silent for a moment before catching something. “Bitch, did you just quote Taylor Swift?!”

He looked to the side for a minute, as if he was thinking or trying to remember something while he pursed his lips. “Yeah?” he laughs, “I know you like her a lot so I listened to her a lot to try and learn some of her songs. They’re pretty good”

I’m going down without a fight, I don’t know how he does this. He makes me really nervous. What is he doing to me now?

“You listened to her… just for me?” you ask, still hesitant on whether he’s being serious or just messing with you. Cause you’re still falling for him and you can’t stop. This might be the thing that breaks you if it doesn’t end well.

“Yes. Staying up with you, despite the space between us. I’ve never felt so close to someone. You came out of the blue like a shooting star. You wait and wait for it to appear, and when it does, it illuminates its surroundings, just for a second. And that is the feeling that I want to feel forever. Everytime I get to see you, it’s like you illuminate every space you walk into.”

What if he’s my weakness?

“I- I don’t know what to say. All this time, I’ve been keeping on my mind on the running away. And for the first time, I’d consider to stay. I know I make the same mistakes a lot and I never learn. But I think I did one thing right.” you say, smiling as his starry eyes spark up this dark night.

He’s looking at you with so much admiration in his eyes.

“I got so damn close to packing it up, then you happened. I’ll never leave out the back door and I don’t plan on running away from the good things anymore.” - you continue.

The two of you just sat there in silence, staring at each other with smiles plastered on your faces. Franco is the first to break, moving closer to you, leaning close to grab the side of your face.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out

You’re close enough to feel each other breathe. Just one inch closer and… His lips are on yours, connecting gently. They’re warm and soft. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer together. At the same time, Franco brings his other arm to wrap around your torso, grabbing the side of your waist so you don’t slip away. It’s like taking your first breath of air in years. You feel his lips on yours as butterflies erupt in your stomach.

After a few moments, you break the kiss, needing to actually take in some air. Franco’s hand is still on the side of your face, slowly he slides it down to connect your fingers with his.

“Can I be yours?” he asks, “Your forever true blue?” he asks. “Forever and always”

[fastandcarlos]

Game, Set & Match : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: after deciding to go to the tennis whilst at home, lando’s attention is captured by one of the players he watches on court

pairing: lando x tennis!reader

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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 2,583,382 others

landonorris: such a joy to be courtside today to watch some super tennis…a nice reminder that coordination with a racket is not my strongest skill 🎾

259,462 comments

username1: how does he manage to look good in every single photo of him!?

maxverstappen1: gonna tell us who that other racquet belongs to or leave us hanging..? 🤔

username2: he was there to watch yn, I was there and he didn’t take his eyes off of her 😂

carlossainz55: pay close attention and then one day you might be good enough to challenge me!

georgerussell63: that’s the smile you have when there’s someone around you fancy 😂

landonorris: @/georgerussell63 I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about…

username3: do we think that maybe there’s something here??

username4: they would be such a good match if they were together 😭

ynusername: hope you enjoyed the match, it was lovely to have you there!

landonorris: @/ynusername you were amazing, it was awesome to see you play in person too 👏🏻

username5: he wasn’t even sat in her player box so I think we all just need to calm down 😮‍💨

oscarpiastri: that’s it, pretend you were there for the tennis!

username6: maybe ask yn if she’ll give you a few lessons 😉

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liked by djokernole, naomiosaka and 358,413 others

ynusername: CHAMPION!! words will never do justice to explain just how much this means to me 🏆✨

31,857 comments

username7: the most incredible week, congratulations yn on getting the W ❤️

andymurray: congratulations on an incredible run yn, that was the best I’ve ever seen you play 🎾

username8: she only played this well because lando was watching 🙃

igaswiatek: an honour to be on the other side of the net and see you pick up your first trophy ☺️

username9: can’t believe you’re the champion, a dream week for you ✨

naomiosaka: girl I am so unbelievably proud of you for what you’ve achieved 👏🏻

landonorris: it was an honour to be here and watch you play, congratulations once again ☺️

ynusername: @/landonorris it was awesome to meet you after the match 🤝

username10: lando norris needs to start turning up to more tennis games!!

username11: are we just gonna ignore the fact that he’s still here and in her comments now too!?!

djokernole: that was an incredible match yn, the first of many victories I’m sure 👏🏻

username12: wait for lando to try and convince us that he’s always loved tennis and this has nothing to do with yn 😂

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liked by georgerussell63, danielricciardo and 2,483,172 others

landonorris: he goes to one tennis game and now he thinks he’s a pro at padel (which I definitely am btw!)💪🏻

216,607 comments

username13: yn definitely needs to come and give you some lessons 😂

maxverstappen1: can absolutely confirm that you are not a pro at padel in the slightest 🏸

alex_albon: if you’re a pro then I must be the ronaldo of padel 🙄

landonorris: @/alex_albon there is absolutely no chance you are better at padel than me ‼️

username14: if nothing else, at least you’re better than oscar!!

username15: we want video proof or we’re not believing a word of it norris

georgerussell63: stop lying to yourself lando we’ve talked to you about this!!

username16: did he go to the tennis just to pick up tips after all???

danielricciardo: I can’t believe you’ve actually just called yourself a pro at padel 🤦🏻

landonorris: @/danielricciardo it would be unfair of me to lie to the people

username17: idc how good you are at padel, you still look for to me ��

oscarpiastri: sometimes you’re so bad you make me look good at this game!

username18: everyone just needs to take a step back, we all know how much of a sport geek lando is…

ynusername: one day I’ll teach you how to be a true racket sports pro 😂

landonorris: @/ynusername I might just take you up on that offer…

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liked by mclaren, landonorris and 327,408 others

ynusername: thank you mclaren for welcoming me into your garage for the weekend, I had the time of my life 🧡🏎️

42,604 comments

username19: watch the hardcore fans try and convince us that there’s nothing going on here…

landonorris: it was amazing to have you here with us this weekend, hope you enjoyed as much as I enjoyed the tennis ☺️

ynusername: @/landonorris I think you might’ve just turned me into an f1 fan 🥺

landonorris: @/ynusername I knew I’d be able to convince you 🥲

username20: oscar already taking on the proud role of third wheel 😂

username21: he’s here in the likes and the comments, my mind is made up here!!

emmaraducanu: can’t believe you went to the f1 without me 😭

ynusername: @/emmaraducanu I’m sorry please don’t hate me 😂

username22: pls mclaren give us what we want and film some content with these two

oscarpiastri: it was an honour to meet you and show you around the garage 🧡

username23: how long are they gonna drag this out before they put themselves!?

maxverstappen1: just so you know red bull are so much better than mclaren 😉

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 stop lying to her 😂 I made sure to tell yn just how superior we are!!

username24: omg just hurry up and kiss already 😮‍💨

mclaren: you’re welcome back anytime, thank you for paying us a visit 🧡

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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 2,594,473 others

landonorris: she shot an ace through my heart and now it’s game, set and match norris 💞

47,139 comments

username25: lando coming straight at us with the world’s worst tennis pun 😩

maxverstappen1: that caption is the mist disgusting thing I’ve ever seen from you 🙄

username26: look at that smile she must make him so happy!!

danielricciardo: how long did it take you to come up with that caption…

landnorris: @/danielricciardo longer than I’d like to admit to!

username27: that caption has given me such an ick 😂

oscarpiastri: still gonna argue you that you want to the tennis to actually watch the tennis!?

username28: they just knew that there was no pretending that they weren’t together with us!

charles_leclerc: alex told me to tell you she wants to meet yn asap!

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc let’s do dinner so I can share all your embarrassing stories

username29: the writing in the sand has made my heart so happy 🥺

ynusername: I think I might’ve changed my mind after reading that caption 😂

landonorris: @/ynusername sorry but you’re mine now and I’m not letting you go!

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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 428,066 others

ynusername: turns out tennis and f1 do go pretty well together after all 🥺

48,721 comments

username30: I’m so obsessed with these two I can’t cope already

landonorris: I think they make quite the team 💞

username31: if we didn’t believe lando then I think we can definitely believe yn 😂

oscarpiastri: do I still have to pretend that you and lando are definitely not dating???

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri no you’re relieved of your duties now 😂

username32: can’t wait for all the couples sports content we’re gonna get from these two!

danielricciardo: reluctantly giving my racing boyfriend up so he can spend time with you 🥹

ynusername: @/danielricciardo you’re welcome to third wheel whenever you want!

landonorris: @/danielricciardo no you’re not 😂 leave the two of us the hell alone!

username33: ngl I love how they love the sport that the other person does so passionately 😩

maxverstappen1: we’re relying on you now yn to teach this kid how to play padel 🙃

username34: thank you to whoever decided to introduce lando to yn at the tennis that day 🙏🏻

mclaren: I guess we should look into getting you a pass 😉🧡

ynusername: @/mclaren yes yes yes yes!!!

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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗