#expect horse races and events
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
HorseRacingNews-Video news and articles about horse racing
#best horse racing prediction#best horse racing prediction website#free horse racing prediction software#horse racing computer predictions#horse racing expert predictions#horse racing forecast#horse racing forecast tips#horse racing forecasts daily#aqueduct horse racing analysis#expect horse races and events#expect horse races and results#expect horse races at the moment#expect horse races for today#expect horse races for tomorrow#expect horse races world#expect horse races worldwide#Horse racing articles#aqueduct horse racing#best binoculars for horse racing#fast horse racing results#horse racing photos#horse racing podcast#horse racing quotes#horse racing radio#replays of horse racing#top speed horse racing#american horse racing news#australia horse racing news today#breaking horse racing news#current horse racing news
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Melting Hearts
pairing: charles leclerc x chocolatier!reader
summary: Ferrari hires a chocolatier to cater for their anniversary celebrations! The chocolate isn’t the only thing to melt
a/n1: Twitter is dead to me. Bluesky forever.
a/n2: all chocolate creations are from the chocolate guy, amaury guichon
a/n3: user 19 and 53 are back 😂
scuderiaferrari
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 2,112,134 others
tagged: yourusername, maison_du_chocolat
scuderiaferrari: We’re excited to announce that yourusername from the maison_du_chocolat has accepted our invitation to our anniversary celebration! We can’t wait to see what she makes for us!
view all comments
yourusername: Forza Ferrari Sempre! It was an honor to be chosen and I am excited to have the opportunity to be a part of this monumental event!
↳user1: oh man oh man oh man am I sooooo excited for this!
↳user2: Queen of chocolate!
user3: omg crossover of the century!
↳user4: i literally can’t wait to see what she makes!
↳user3: her creations are INSANE! her imagination…
charles_leclerc: can’t wait! 😊
↳arthur_leclerc: he really really can’t…
↳charles_leclerc: 😑
user5: I haven’t heard of her before but I just looked her up and damn…
↳user6: right?
↳user5: what I wouldn’t give to live in her mind?
↳user7: dude what?
↳user5: not in a creepy way but like how does she even imagine these things??
↳user8: acceptable answer
carlossainz55: Forza Ferrari Sempre! Welcome to the Ferrari family!
↳yourusername: glad to be here!
user9: I just checked her insta and damn…chocolate is not the only thing that’ll be melting
↳user10: keep it classy!
maison_du_chocolat
liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, yourbff, and 1,877,455 others
tagged: scuderiaferrari
maison_du_chocolat: it has long been a dream of mine to go to Italy and visit the Ferrari factory! Now to be able to do that by invitation is an honor! Thank you scuderiaferrari
view all comments
user11: amazing!
user12: oh I can’t wait!
user13: cars? I have to care about cars now??
↳user14: I kkkknnnnoooooowww. Like mother why?
↳user13: vroom vroom I guess
charles_leclerc: it's our pleasure to have you!
↳user19: 👀👀
↳maison_du_chocolat: thank you! 😊
↳user19: 👀👀
↳user53: seriously? What now
↳user19: nothing nothing nothing
carlossainz55: again! Welcome to the family!
↳maison_du_chocolat: love to be here
yourbff: I expect all the details stat
↳yourusername: literally on my way to you right now
↳yourbff: with all the juicy details?
↳yourusername: with something certainly
user15: love that jacket!
↳maison_du_chocolat: gotta represent when I’m creating!
↳user15: it’s a chef’s jacket???
↳maison_du_chocolat: yup!
↳user15: oh my god 🥺🥺
Bluesky
maison_du_chocolat
liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, user, and 1,828,828 others
tagged: scuderiaferrari
maison_du_chocolat: a little sneak peak of what’s coming!
view all comments
user16: the anticipation is gonna actually kill me i think
↳user17: extreme but understandable
user18: car? Horse? 3D model of the Ferrari logo?
↳user17: an actual life size f1 car that runs
↳user18: tbh it might actually be faster then what we’ve been given this year…
↳user17: removing the floor and letting Carlos and Charles run the race is faster then this tractor…
↳user18: you’re not wrong
scuderiaferrari: we’re eagerly awaiting the results!
↳maison_du_chocolat: cool cool cool cool. No doubt no doubt, no pressure no pressure
↳scuderiaferrari: you’ve got this!
↳maison_du_chocolat: admin why would you stress me out like this…
↳scuderiaferrari: from the bottom of my heart, my bad
user20: less than 1 week left!
↳user21: I know! I’ve been counting down the days
↳user22: me too!
charles_leclerc: any hints for your favorite driver?
↳maison_du_chocolat: sorry but Sebastian isn’t racing anymore…
↳charles_leclerc: 🥺😢
↳user19: 🧐🧐
↳user53: ok grandma let’s get you back to bed
↳user19: you just wait…you’ll see…
↳user53: see what you crazy bat???
scuderiaferrari
liked by maison_du_chocolat, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and 2,276,511 others
Transcript:
First frame: “And for our last topic,y/n from the La Maison Du Chocolat…”
Second Frame: “Carlos: hahahaha, Charles: Oh noooo……, Carlos: yes let’s talk about y/n”
Third Frame: “Oh? Are you guys excited for the exhibit?”
Last Frame: “Carlos: Charles definitely is!, Charles: She is very talented!, Carlos: Not what I meant”
tagged: yourusername, maison_du_chocolat
scuderiaferrari: we talk cars, collections, and chocolate!
view all comments
user23: awwww Charles is blushing ☺️☺️☺️
maxverstappen1: 😹
↳carlossainz55: it’s even worse than you think
↳maxverstappen1: how??
↳carlossainz55: they cut a LOT of footage
↳maxverstappen1: oh my god 😹
↳charles_leclerc: it was not THAT bad
↳carlossainz55: it was
user24: the challenge is don’t talk about your crush! Charles fails instantly
↳user25: no but for real he’s so in love??? He’s just heart eyes and blushing face the entire video
↳user25: and THEY TAGGED her too! scuderiaferrari sees the vision as well
↳user24: I’m confused on how they have EVEN MORE footage?? Like it’s already 30 minutes of him yapping about yourusername…
↳user25: I NEED them to release the uncut version! scuderiaferrari! Please we’ve never asked for anything
↳scuderiaferrari: 👀👀
↳charles_leclerc: no.
↳scuderiaferrari: 🫣 sorry 😞
user19: y’all aren’t ready for what i have to say
↳user53: I’m tired of this grandpa
↳user19: that’s too damn bad! They’re dating!
↳user53: seriously? Oh my god…
↳user19: just wait and see user53. Just wait and see
Private Messages
Bluesky
user26: oh my god
↳user27: are you thinking what I’m thinking?
↳user26: Charles Leclerc and y/n?
↳user27: yes!!
user28: that crazy bitch has done it again
↳user53: you better not be talking about user19 with that tone?
↳user28: that crazy bitch (respectfully) has done it again ??
↳user53: acceptable (barely)
user19: WHAT DID I SAY? I TOLD YOU
↳user53: this is not PROOF. It is gossip!
↳user19: I've been sayin' it. I've been sayin' it for ten damn years. Ain't I been sayin' it?
↳user53: do you ever run out of movie quotes?
↳user19: nope! CAUSE I WAS RIGHT!!
↳user53: 🙄😂☺️
Private Messages
maison_du_chocolat
liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, and 3,127,225 others
tagged: scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55
maison_du_chocolat: here we are! And away we go!
Thank you scuderiaferrari for this wonderful opportunity! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are!
This was a chance of a lifetime and there’s no words I can write that will fully capture how much this means to me so I’ll simply say thank you again! Forza Ferrari Sempre!
view all comments
scuderiaferrari: 😳😳😳
↳scuderiaferrari: THESE ARE WONDERFUL!
↳scuderiaferrari: The perfect way to celebrate!
↳scuderiaferrari: Forza Ferrari Sempre!
user29: the classic car and the new one side by side?? 👌👌
user30: the fomo I have…
↳user31: good god same. I wish I could have been there to see them in person…
charles_leclerc: magnifique!!
↳maison_du_chocolat: thank you! And thank you again for showing me your car — I definitely needed the close up reference
↳user19: !!!!
↳user32: on their thread??
↳user53: not the time user19
↳user19: but!
↳user53: no
carlossainz55: these are amazing! Such artistry!
↳maison_du_chocolat: stoopppp. I’m blushing!
↳carlossainz55: 😉😉
↳charles_leclerc: 🤨🤨
↳carlossainz55: 🤣
user33: the presentation of this was wonderful as well
↳user34: almost better than the actual life size chocolate cars if I’m being honest
↳user35: ok I don’t know if I’d go that far…
↳user34: there was fireworks…
↳user35: yeah ok
Bluesky
user36: starting a countdown…
↳user37: to what?
↳user36: just wait
user38: god when will it be my turn???
user39: they look so cute!
↳user40: you can’t see their faces?
↳user39: but they look so comfy together? Like even out in public, they’re leaning up against one another — that’s cute and lovely!
↳user40: …we need to get you a date
user19: !!!!
↳user36: this user37
↳user37: what?
↳user53: yes yes yes you’re probably gonna be right. Let’s not rub it in everyone’s face
↳user19: you never let me have any fun
↳user53: we still don’t know for certain that it’s y/n!
↳user19: it will be!
user41: I’ve never felt more single then these 2!! photos have made me feel
↳user42: same
↳user43: same
charles_leclerc
liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 1,213,455 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: happy 2 years mon amour — they’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been.
Thank you for teaching me to bake Christmas cookies (and for the special love potion — although you certainly don’t need to give me one!)
view all comments
user44: oh my god! 2 years???
user46: how on earth did they keep it a secret for so long??
yourusername: Mon soleil…I thought you wanted to keep this a secret?
↳charles_leclerc: oops ☺️☺️☺️
↳charles_leclerc: not anymore!
↳charles_leclerc: I need everyone to know you’re mine
↳yourusername: Mon soleil…
↳charles_leclerc: ehehehehe 😊😊😊
user48: Mon soleil…she calls him her sunshine…
↳yourusername: he lights up my life!
↳user48: my heart…I can’t go on…
↳yourusername: oops??
maxverstappen1: finally
↳charles_leclerc: what?
↳maxverstappen1: you can now yap to everyone else about her
↳maxverstappen1: stop bothering me
↳charles_leclerc: when have i ever?
↳carlossainz55: you think you have it bad?? And charles_leclerc the entire flight to Miami
↳maxverstappen1: and Brazil
↳oscarpiastri: and to Australia
↳logansargeant: the entire driver’s parade on Monday?
↳alex_albon: and in spa?
↳landonorris: to and from silverstone?
↳charles_leclerc: let a romantic live will you?
↳yourusername: awww soleil you talk about me?
↳carlossainz55: yes
↳maxverstappen1: more words than I’ve ever spoken
↳oscarpiastri: nonstop
↳logansargeant: never ending
↳alex_albon: yes
↳landonorris: yes
↳charles_leclerc: yes 🥰
#f1 smau#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 instagram au#f1 fic#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#formula 1 smau#formula 1 social media au#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one imagine
836 notes
·
View notes
Text
🌙 * ― 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ( a collection of date locations and things to do with your date. feel free to adjust the prompts as needed! do not add to the list. )
a relaxing date
quiet night. our muses snuggle up together beneath a blanket on the couch or in bed and listens as the other muse reads a book to them. bookshop. our muses go to a bookshop and pick out books for each other to read once they get back home. console. our muses play a casual and fun game on a console together, requiring teamwork and strategy. park. our muses take a relaxing walk through the park together to talk and get to know each other better. spa. our muses go to a spa to treat themselves to a day of relaxation and pampering. movie. our muses go to the local cinema to watch a movie together, where they can snack on popcorn and be transported to another world. beach. our muses go to a warm sandy beach, where they can soak up the sun and dip their toes into the sea for a swim or a splash.
a fun date
pins. our muses go to a bowling alley together, where they can play a casual game or aim to have the highest score. wheels. our muses go roller skating together, where they can race one another or skate hand in hand for a more relaxed date. rink. our muses go ice skating together, where they can show off their moves or wobble on the ice and tumble in unison. swim. our muses go swimming together, where they can playfully splash one another, go down the slides or brave the wave pool. shopping. our muses go to the mall together, where they can shop to their hearts content and find a new thing to take home. ride. our muses go horse riding together, either separately or together, and enjoy the sights atop their horses. hole-in-one. our muses go to a crazy golf course, where they must overcome obstacles and get the ball to its end destination. laser. our muses go to a laser tag event and test out their stealth and aim as they try to hunt one another down to tag them. paintball. our muses go paintballing together and form up to be a formidable team or test their skills against each other. rodeo. our muses attempt the mechanical rodeo bull, where one muse must hang on for dear life or try to stay on together.
a delicious date
restaurant. our muses go to a nice restaurant, dressed up and treated to vintage wine and delicious food. fast food. our muses go to a fast food place, where there are no expectations and the company is all that matters. café. our muses go to a homely little café, where they can enjoy a warm drink and homemade cakes. truck. our muses go to a local food truck, where greasy but delicious food is served up right in front of them. homemade. our muses have a home-cooked meal, where one muse cooks the other a delicious and intimate meal. baking. our muses bake something together, sending flour everywhere and bringing out the playfulness of one another. picnic. our muses go on a little picnic together, a quiet patch of grass beneath the warm sun. cold treat. our muses find an ice cream truck and decide to treat themselves to a cold treat. sweet treat. our muses go to a desert place where they can get waffles, crêpes and brownies.
a nature date
zoo. our muses take a trip to the zoo where they can admire all the various walks of life and get the special privilege to feed an animal. wings. our muses visit a butterfly sanctuary, where the air is filled with colourful wings and life flutters all around them. feed. our muses visit a park with a bag of seed on hand to feed the local wildlife, getting to see them up close and personal. sea life. our muses visit and aquarium together, where they can stand beneath a tunnel of water and see sharks and fish swim overhead. sun. our muses find a clearing or a good vantage point to watch the sunrise or sunset together. stars. our muses lay beneath the stars together, where they can try to catch a glimpse of shooting star or point out the constellations. garden. our muses visit a botanical garden, where vibrant colours and fragrant flowers bloom.
an entertaining date
play. our muses attend a play at a theatre, where music fills the halls and actors perform on stage. opera. our muses attend an opera hall, where classical music takes people back to a different age. ballet. our muses attend a ballet showing, where elegance and grace captivates the audience. sport. our muses attend a sports event with the best seats in the house, where they can cheer on their favourite team and have a beer or two. concert. our muses visit a concert together, where the crowd raves to the music and joins in harmony. amusement park. our muses go to an amusement park, where they can relax on a log ride or risk it all with a daring ride. night out. our muses go to a bar where the drinks never end and the party goes well into the night. prize. our muses visit the arcades where they can try to win as many prizes as they can or jump into a stimulation game. old games. our muses have a fun and competitive go at old board games, where it could bring them together or test the strength of their relationship.
an educational date
pottery. our muses attending a pottery class where one muse helps the other to make a pot, hands on. paint. our muses attending a painting class, where they can gift one another their painting or paint one another. dance. our muses attend a dance class, where they can learn a few new moves and share an intimate moment. axe. our muses go to an axe throwing class, where a professional teaches them how to throw axes. museum. our muses go to the museum, where they can learn the earth's history, admire the artwork or venture into space. castle. our muses visit an old castle, where history lingers and people can peer into the past.
a medieval date
renfair. our muses attend a renfair event, dressed up for the occasion and enjoy the festivities. joust. our muses attend a medieval restaurant where they can dine, watch knights joust and have a medieval experience. ball. our muses attend a grand ball, where couples take to the dance floor and let the music flow through them. masquerade. our muses attend a masquerade ball, where masks shrouds faces and scandals thrive. feast. our muses attend a grand feast, where jolly laughter and mountains of food await.
an adventurous date
climb. our muses attend an indoor climbing place or brave the mountains, to put their strength and resilience to the test. camp. our muses take to the wild and set up camp in the woods, putting their survival skills to the test. sail. our muses go on a cruise together, where they can kick back and enjoy a nice cocktail on the ocean waves. lake. our muses brave the brisk waters and go skinny dipping together for some naughty fun. rapids. our muses go canoeing in the treacherous waters of a fast running river sky diving. our muses take to the skies and go sky diving, either together or side by side, and experience the world from above. slope. our muses go skiing or snowboarding together, soaring past the snow covered trees and gaining air with ramps.
an unconventional date
heist. our muses go on a more unconventional date and go on a heist together to bring home a new, shiny and expensive addition. fight. our muses attend a fighting match where adrenaline is high and cheers fill the room. rage. our muses go to a rage room and smash things together, letting out pent up rage and stress in union. graveyard. our muses visit a graveyard at night, where they can try to scare one another with a scary story or visit the dead. ghosts. our muses try to find the paranormal in an abandoned place, where spirits are said to linger. hunting. our muses go hunting together, but what exactly will they be hunting? escape. our muses go to an escape room, where they will need to work together if they ever stand a chance of getting out. sacrifice. our muses perform a ritual with the intention of summoning something, but is it for fun or is it something all the more sinister?
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐯
paige bueckers x podcaster!reader
wc: 5k
a/n: heyyy... so sorry i've been MIA, i had finals then went on vacation and am just now getting settled. but the good news is that im officially on break so i have nothing to do but write. the even better news is that to make for falling off the grid, i've written an absurdly long chapter AND it's a double update. theres also a surprise for you in part 6 *wink wink* enjoy!
The text came earlier than you expected that morning, breaking through the low hum of background noise from the TV. You were sprawled across the couch, a half-empty mug of coffee balanced precariously on the armrest, idly scrolling through a random sports highlight reel that had been playing for the better part of an hour.
Your phone buzzed against your thigh, the vibration cutting through your thoughts. Picking it up, you noticed the name at the top of the screen before you even read the message: Paige Bueckers.
Paige Bueckers:Pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.
Straightforward. Confident. Classic Paige. A smile tugged at your lips as you read the words, the familiar surge of warmth spreading through your chest. She had this way of making everything seem effortless—whether it was threading an impossible pass on the court or casually setting the tone for what felt like your first real date.
You stared at the message for a beat longer than necessary, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. Memories of the last few weeks flickered through your mind. What had started as casual hangouts—grabbing coffee after gym sessions, joining her and her teammates for late-night food runs, or studying side by side in the library—had slowly shifted into something else.
There was the way her eyes lingered a second too long when she thought you weren’t paying attention. Or how her hand would brush yours during a game of pick-up, sending sparks through your skin even when she laughed it off. How the teasing between you had gone from lighthearted to loaded, every quip hiding an undercurrent of something deeper.
The tension had been building steadily, a slow burn that neither of you acknowledged directly but both felt all the same. You weren’t sure when the casual hangouts had started feeling like something more—maybe it was the night she drove you home after a team dinner, her hand gripping the gear shift tightly as you talked about everything and nothing. Or the time she lingered after an impromptu game of HORSE, offering to shoot a few extra free throws with you, even though you both knew she could sink them blindfolded.
You hadn’t put a name to it yet, but the space between you felt charged, like it was waiting for the right moment to catch fire.
Still, Paige had been careful not to push. She kept things easy, never giving you a reason to second-guess her intentions—until now. Something about her message felt different, more deliberate, as if she’d finally decided to stop dancing around the edge of whatever this was.
Your fingers moved instinctively, typing out a reply.
You:Define “nice.”
The three little dots appeared almost immediately, a sign that Paige was already crafting her response.
Paige Bueckers:Something that’ll make me regret making dinner the main event tonight.
Your face heated as you read the words, and you quickly locked your phone, your heart racing. The flirty confidence in her text was nothing new—Paige had always been bold, unafraid to say what was on her mind. But this felt different, like she was deliberately testing the waters, seeing how far she could push before you pushed back.
For a moment, you debated whether you should reply. The temptation to fire back a teasing remark tugged at you, but the idea of leaving her hanging was just as enticing. Instead, you leaned back against the cushions, your thoughts spinning.
In truth, the idea of going on a proper date with Paige wasn’t as foreign as you might have thought a month ago. Back then, it had been easy to chalk up the lingering glances and subtle touches to her naturally magnetic personality. Paige had a way of drawing people in, making them feel like they were the only one in the room. You weren’t immune to that charm—no one was—but you’d convinced yourself that what you had was firmly rooted in friendship.
Now, though, you weren’t so sure. The lines had blurred, the boundaries shifting in ways you couldn’t ignore. And if Paige’s message was anything to go by, she wasn’t ignoring them either.
The weight of it all settled over you as you glanced back at your phone, the screen dark and unresponsive. Tonight wasn’t just about dinner—it was a step forward, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks.
You glanced at the clock, the numbers blurring slightly as your mind raced. You still had hours to prepare, but suddenly it didn’t feel like enough time.
Paige Bueckers had a way of keeping you on your toes. And tonight, you had a feeling she was about to raise the stakes.
The hours leading up to 7 p.m. were a chaotic mix of anticipation and nerves. You rifled through your closet, pulling out one outfit after another, none of them feeling quite right. Casual but sophisticated? Too boring. A little edgy? Too over-the-top. Eventually, you settled on a sleek black dress with a low neckline that hugged your figure in all the right ways.
As you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric and adjusting the straps, you couldn’t help but wonder what Paige would wear. You’d seen her off the court enough times to know she could pull off anything—from oversized hoodies to the rare tailored outfit that turned heads.
By the time 7 rolled around, you were practically pacing the apartment. The knock at the door made you jump, and you took a deep breath before opening it.
Paige stood there, leaning against the doorframe like she had all the time in the world. She wore a fitted blazer over a crisp white shirt, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, paired with tailored pants that emphasized her long frame. Her sneakers—pristine white—gave the outfit a casual touch, but she looked undeniably put together.
Her eyes swept over you, lingering just a second too long to be polite.
“You look…” she began, her voice trailing off as a grin spread across her face. “Incredible.”
Your cheeks warmed under her gaze, but you managed a smirk. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Bueckers. Didn’t think you owned anything without a logo on it.”
She laughed, the sound low and easy. “Special occasions call for special outfits. You ready?”
You nodded, grabbing your clutch. As she held the door open for you, her hand brushed lightly against your lower back, and the subtle gesture sent a thrill up your spine.
**********
Paige hadn’t given you any clues about where you were going, no matter how many times you’d tried to prod it out of her earlier that day. Every attempt was met with the same maddeningly smug response: “Patience, Y/N.”
By the time her car finally pulled up to the restaurant, you understood why she’d been so secretive. The place was breathtaking—one of those spots that looked like it had been plucked straight out of a luxury travel magazine. Soft, ambient lighting bathed the space in a warm glow, while elegant decor—polished wood, minimalist greenery, and sparkling crystal accents—created an atmosphere that was somehow both intimate and grand. Even from the curb, you could tell this wasn’t just dinner—it was a statement.
“You really went all out,” you murmured as Paige came around to open the car door for you, a move so smooth it made your heart skip.
She grinned, offering you her hand as you stepped out. “Told you I was determined to impress you.”
You followed her inside, the quiet hum of conversation and the gentle clink of glasses welcoming you into the space. As your eyes adjusted to the low lighting, you took in the subtle details that made the restaurant feel special—candlelit tables, discreet nooks for privacy, and an unspoken air of exclusivity that was equal parts thrilling and intimidating.
Paige must have noticed your hesitation because she nudged you lightly with her elbow. “What’s the verdict? Too much?”
You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping. “Not too much. Just…unexpected. I didn’t peg you for the romantic type.”
She gave you a mock-offended look, placing a hand over her chest like you’d wounded her. “I’ll have you know, Y/N, I can be extremely romantic when I want to be. Guess you’ll just have to wait and see for yourself.”
The host greeted Paige with a warm smile—her name clearly recognizable even in a place like this—and led the two of you to a secluded corner booth. It was tucked away, offering just enough privacy to feel like a small haven amid the otherwise bustling space. The soft light from the nearby wall sconce cast a golden glow over the table, and as Paige gestured for you to slide into the booth first, you couldn’t help but appreciate how thoughtful she’d been.
“This is...nice,” you admitted as you settled into the plush seat, glancing around at the cozy setup.
“I know,” Paige replied, sliding in across from you with a smirk. She leaned back against the booth, her long legs stretching out in front of her like she owned the place.
Her confidence was infectious, and you found yourself relaxing slightly, though the elegance of the setting still had you a little on edge. As you picked up the menu, your eyes widened at the selections—dishes with names so fancy you weren’t sure if they were in English or Italian.
Paige tilted her head, watching you with amusement. “What’s going through that overthinking brain of yours right now?”
You set the menu down with a small laugh. “Honestly? I’m trying not to freak out over how fancy this place is. I’m not sure I can even pronounce half the stuff on this menu.”
Paige laughed, the sound warm and unguarded, and it immediately put you at ease. “Relax, it’s just dinner. Think of it as a really well-decorated diner.”
You raised an eyebrow, fighting back a grin. “A diner where the appetizers cost more than my grocery bill for the week?”
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her playful grin firmly in place. “Okay, how about this? I’ll order for both of us. Deal?”
Your eyes narrowed slightly, both intrigued and skeptical. “Bold move, Bueckers. What if I hate what you pick?”
Paige’s grin widened, and she tilted her head slightly, her voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Then I’ll spend the rest of the night making it up to you.”
Your breath caught, the words hitting with more weight than you expected. You tried to keep your composure, but Paige wasn’t done. She leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and confidence. “But, let’s be real—you won’t hate it. I have excellent taste.”
“Oh, do you now?” you shot back, finding your footing again in the banter. “And how exactly do you know that?”
She shrugged, a hint of challenge in her expression. “Well, you’re here with me, aren’t you? That’s proof enough.”
You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Wow. You’re really laying it on thick tonight, huh?”
“Just calling it like I see it,” Paige replied smoothly, her grin softening into something more genuine. “But seriously, Y/N, don’t stress. This is supposed to be fun, remember? Let me handle the menu, and you just enjoy the night. Deal?”
You hesitated for a moment, but the way she was looking at you—equal parts playful and sincere—made it impossible to say no. Finally, you nodded. “Alright, Bueckers. But if you order something weird, I’m holding it against you forever.”
Paige chuckled, lifting her hand as if swearing an oath. “Noted. I promise to stick to the non-weird stuff.”
As the server approached, Paige rattled off an order with a confidence that impressed you, selecting dishes that sounded fancy without being over-the-top. The way she spoke to the server—polite but with a casual ease—only added to the charm she seemed to be radiating tonight.
Once the server left, Paige’s attention shifted back to you, her gaze soft but focused. She drummed her fingers lightly on the table, a teasing glint in her eye. “Alright, serious question time,” she said, her tone light but curious. “What’s the weirdest pregame ritual you’ve ever heard of?”
The question caught you off guard, and you blinked at her before breaking into a grin. “That’s random.”
She shrugged, her lips curving into a lazy smile. “I was just thinking about how some of my teammates have the wildest superstitions. Like one of them has to tie their shoes in the exact same order every time. Left shoe first, three loops, then right shoe. It’s wild.”
You chuckled, leaning back in your seat as you thought about it. “Okay, okay. Weirdest one I’ve ever heard? I interviewed a softball player once who said she had to eat the exact same breakfast before every game—eggs, toast, and a single slice of pineapple. If the pineapple wasn’t there, she swore it threw her off completely.”
Paige’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “A single slice? That’s… oddly specific.”
“I know, right? She was dead serious about it, though. Said it was her ‘good luck charm.’”
Paige laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I get it, though. Sports are such a mental game. Sometimes those little things trick your brain into thinking you’ve got the edge.”
“Okay, Miss Rational Athlete,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Do you have any weird pregame habits I should know about?”
Her smile turned sheepish, and she looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting your gaze. “Nothing too crazy. But I do this thing where I listen to the same song right before warmups. It’s like my hype track.”
You leaned forward, intrigued. “What song?”
She hesitated, a playful grimace crossing her face. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“No promises.”
Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at her lips. “Alright, it’s ‘Run This Town.’”
You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. “Are you serious? That song’s so old!”
“Hey!” she protested, pointing a finger at you. “It’s a classic. Plus, it works. Gets me in the zone every time.”
“Okay, okay,” you relented, still grinning. “I’ll give you that. But now I’m curious—what’s your off-court hype song?”
She tilted her head, considering it for a moment. “Off-court? Probably something chill, like ‘Best Part.’”
The answer surprised you, and it must have shown on your face because Paige raised an eyebrow. “What? You didn’t think I was capable of being mellow?”
“I mean… not really,” you teased, biting back a smile.
She laughed, shaking her head. “Wow. See, this is why I asked you out. You keep me humble.”
You couldn’t help but smile at that, your chest warming at the sincerity beneath her playful words. “Glad I could be of service.”
Paige leaned back, her eyes scanning your face like she was committing every detail to memory. “Alright, your turn. What’s the one thing that always gets you in the zone? For work, podcasts, whatever.”
You thought about it for a moment, tapping your fingers against the table. “Honestly? Coffee. I know it’s basic, but if I don’t have a cup before I start working, it’s game over. My brain just doesn’t function.”
She laughed, her gaze softening. “That’s not basic. That’s survival. Trust me, I’ve seen my teammates without coffee before morning practice. It’s not pretty.”
The two of you fell into an easy rhythm after that, the conversation flowing effortlessly as you swapped stories and quirks. Paige shared tales of grueling practices and ridiculous pranks her teammates had pulled, while you recounted some of your most memorable podcast interviews and the behind-the-scenes chaos that often went unnoticed by listeners.
By the time the first course arrived, you were completely at ease, the earlier tension long forgotten. Paige had a way of drawing you in, her attention unwavering and her presence magnetic. And as the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice how natural it all felt—like the two of you had been doing this for years instead of just navigating the uncharted territory of a first date.
**********
Dinner was… perfect. Not just because of the food—though each dish that arrived was better than the last, a delicate balance of flavors that you could still taste long after the plates were cleared. No, what made the night unforgettable was Paige herself. She had a way of making even the most mundane details captivating, her stories woven with humor, sincerity, and a touch of self-deprecation that made you smile more times than you could count.
She leaned back against the booth, her posture relaxed but her eyes alight with energy as she recounted her childhood in Minnesota. “We didn’t have much, but we had a hoop in the driveway. That was all I needed,” she said, her voice softening with nostalgia. “I’d be out there for hours, shooting until it got so dark I couldn’t see the rim. And even then, I’d keep going, pretending I was hitting buzzer-beaters in some championship game.”
Her gaze drifted to her glass, the condensation forming lazy trails down the sides as she toyed with the stem. “I probably drove my parents crazy. The sound of the ball hitting the pavement, over and over…” She chuckled, the memory warming her voice. “But I’d get lost in it, you know? Like nothing else mattered in those moments.”
You found yourself smiling, caught up in the vivid picture she painted. It was easy to imagine a younger version of Paige, her determination already evident as she honed her craft under a dimming sky. “Sounds like you were always destined for the big stage,” you said, your tone half-teasing but mostly genuine.
Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and there was a flicker of something in them—gratitude, maybe, or acknowledgment. “Maybe,” she said with a small shrug. “But what about you? What got you into media? There’s gotta be a story there.”
You hesitated, the question pulling you back into your own memories. You reached for your glass, taking a sip to gather your thoughts. “It wasn’t anything glamorous,” you started, setting the glass back down. “I just grew up obsessed with sports. My first crush was a soccer player I saw on TV—I had no idea what was happening in the game, but I was glued to the screen.”
Paige grinned, a playful glint in her eye. “A soccer player? Scandalous.”
You laughed, nudging her foot lightly under the table. “I was, like, ten. Cut me some slack.”
She laughed along with you, the sound bright and infectious, but her expression softened as you continued.
“Anyway,” you said, leaning forward, “I realized pretty early on that I wasn’t going to be the one making highlight reels, but I loved the stories behind them—the moments, the people. So, I started writing. Got into broadcasting later. It felt natural, like I could connect to the games in a different way.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, as if she were trying to piece something together. “But… you almost gave it up, right? You mentioned that on the podcast once.”
You nodded, suddenly finding the edge of your napkin very interesting. “Yeah. There was a time when it felt… impossible, I guess. The deadlines, the pressure to be better, the endless grind of it all. I started wondering if I was even good enough to be in the same room as the people I admired.”
Her expression grew serious, and she tilted her head slightly, her attention locked on you in a way that made your chest tighten. “So why didn’t you?”
Her question was simple, but it hit somewhere deep. You fiddled with your fork, tracing its edge against the plate. “I guess… I just couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Even when it got hard, there was this pull, like I needed it. Telling those stories, being part of that world—it felt like a part of me, like letting it go would mean losing something important.”
Paige was quiet for a moment, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I get that,” she said softly. “Basketball’s the same for me. It’s not just a game—it’s everything. It’s who I am.”
Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The restaurant’s soft lighting seemed to cast the booth in a bubble, insulating you from the world outside. You could hear the gentle hum of conversation around you, the clinking of glasses and silverware, but it all felt distant—unimportant compared to the presence in front of you.
You glanced at her, the sharp lines of her face softened by the warm light, and felt a strange sense of peace. The kind of peace that came not from the absence of noise, but from being seen—really seen—by someone who understood.
She shifted slightly, her arm resting casually along the back of the booth, her eyes never leaving yours. “You know,” she said after a beat, her tone lighter now, “I think we’re both just a couple of overachievers trying not to burn out.”
You snorted, breaking the stillness with a laugh. “Sounds about right.”
Her grin widened, and she tapped the edge of her glass against yours in a mock toast. “To overachieving, then. And maybe figuring it out along the way.”
You clinked your glass against hers, smiling despite yourself. “I’ll drink to that.”
And as the night stretched on, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics—favorite movies, embarrassing childhood stories, and the kind of idle banter that felt effortless. But the memory of that shared moment, the quiet understanding between you, lingered like a thread tying the night together.
After dinner, Paige suggested a walk. The air was crisp but not biting, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier in the day. You strolled through the quiet streets, the usual city buzz softened under the golden glow of streetlights. The soft shuffle of your footsteps filled the pauses in conversation, and the occasional murmur of distant laughter or the faint hum of passing cars added a comforting rhythm to the night.
“This was nice,” you said, glancing at Paige out of the corner of your eye.
She turned to look at you, her hands tucked casually into the pockets of her jacket, the edges of her hair catching the light. “Yeah?” she asked, her tone warm, teasing but earnest.
“Yeah,” you replied with a small smile. “You definitely exceeded expectations.”
Her lips quirked into a grin, a flicker of pride dancing in her eyes. “Good. I wasn’t sure if I could top the coffee shop date.”
You laughed softly, the memory of that day sparking a familiar warmth. “This was… different.”
“Better?” she asked, her head tilting slightly, as if your answer really mattered to her.
You nodded, feeling the weight of her gaze settle on you like a gentle pressure. “Yeah. Better.”
The space between you seemed to shrink as you continued walking, your shoulders brushing occasionally. Every accidental touch sent a quiet thrill through you, a reminder of how your connection with her seemed to deepen with every moment.
At one point, Paige came to an abrupt stop, her sneakers scuffing against the pavement. You turned to face her, puzzled, and found her looking at you with an expression that was open yet uncharacteristically hesitant.
“Can I ask you something?” she said, her voice softer than usual, almost tentative.
You tilted your head, trying to ignore the way your heart picked up its pace. “Depends,” you replied lightly, though the intensity in her gaze was making it hard to keep your tone steady.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her hands still in her pockets. It was as if she was searching for the right words, the confident Paige you knew now replaced with someone more vulnerable, someone whose sincerity tugged at your chest.
“What are we doing here?” she asked at last, the question hanging between you like a delicate thread. “I mean… I know what I want this to be, but I don’t want to assume anything.”
You blinked, caught completely off guard by her sudden honesty. Her usual confidence, so steady and self-assured, now gave way to something raw and unguarded.
“Paige…” you started, unsure of what to say.
She didn’t give you a chance to fill the silence, her words spilling out in a rush. “I just—look, I don’t want to screw this up, okay? This, you, us… whatever this is becoming. I’m not good at figuring this stuff out, but I know how I feel about you, and I need to know we’re on the same page.”
You stared at her, the faint sheen of vulnerability in her eyes anchoring you in place. She wasn’t hiding behind jokes or bravado; she was laying it all out for you, her walls nowhere in sight.
Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against hers before curling gently around them. “You’re not screwing anything up,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the wild pounding of your heart. “This is… whatever we want it to be.”
She let out a slow breath, her shoulders easing as the tension melted away. “Okay,” she said after a beat, her voice quieter now. “Good. Because I really like you, Y/N. And I want to see where this goes.”
Her admission made your chest tighten in the best way, the sincerity in her voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace. You smiled, unable to stop yourself even if you tried. “I like you too, Bueckers,” you said, your words teasing but completely genuine. “Now, can we keep walking before I overthink this and ruin the moment?”
She laughed, the sound breaking the tension and making the streetlights around you seem a little brighter. “Lead the way,” she said, her hand still brushing against yours as you resumed your walk.
And as the two of you moved forward into the quiet night, the unspoken promise of something more hung between you, electric and full of possibility.
When Paige walked you back to your apartment, the crisp night air seemed to cling to your skin, amplifying the charged silence that settled between you. Every step felt deliberate, the quiet hum of the city around you fading into the background. Standing just outside your door, she lingered, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets as if she was holding something back, her gaze steady and searching.
“I had a great time tonight,” she said, her voice lower than usual, like she was sharing a secret meant only for you.
“Me too,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended, your pulse quickening under the intensity of her attention.
For a moment, it seemed like she might leave. Her weight shifted, her eyes flickering between the door and your face, a subtle war playing out in her expression. Then, almost imperceptibly, she took a step closer, her proximity making the air between you feel heavier, charged.
Her hand brushed against yours—a fleeting, deliberate touch. “Would it be crazy,” she asked, her tone both hesitant and daring, “if I asked to come in?”
You swallowed hard, the weight of her question settling in your chest. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface all night now felt like a live wire sparking between you. Your breath caught for a moment before you answered, your voice soft but sure. “It wouldn’t be crazy,” you murmured, stepping aside to let her in.
Paige moved past you, her shoulder grazing yours in the process, sending a thrill up your spine. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet intimacy of your apartment. She turned to face you, her jacket still hanging open, her hands now free and resting at her sides. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes—they were full of intent, smoldering with something that made your heart pound in your chest.
“So,” she said after a moment, her tone playful but tinged with something deeper, more serious, “what happens now?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with possibility. Words seemed useless—there was no answer you could give that wouldn’t pale in comparison to the gravity of the moment. So instead of speaking, you closed the distance between you, your feet moving before your mind could catch up.
Her breath hitched when you reached her, and for a fleeting second, her confidence faltered, replaced by something raw and vulnerable. Her hands found your waist with an almost tentative touch, her fingers pressing into you as if testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, when you instead leaned in closer, her grip tightened, pulling you flush against her.
The world outside ceased to exist. It was just you and Paige, the heat between you building like a slow burn finally catching fire. Her lips hovered inches from yours, her breath warm against your skin as her eyes searched yours for permission, for reassurance.
You didn’t make her wait. Your hands slid up her arms, your fingers curling lightly against the back of her neck, guiding her down to meet you. When your lips finally met, it wasn’t tentative or hesitant—it was purposeful, a culmination of the tension that had been simmering all evening, maybe even longer.
Her kiss was soft at first, exploratory, but it quickly deepened, her confidence returning as she pressed closer, her hands slipping from your waist to the small of your back. Every touch, every movement felt deliberate, like she was committing the moment to memory.
When you finally broke apart, breathless but unwilling to let go, her forehead rested against yours, her voice a soft murmur in the charged silence. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” she confessed, a small smile tugging at her lips.
You laughed quietly, your hands still resting on her shoulders. “You’re not the only one.”
Her smile grew, her confidence now fully restored. “Then I guess I should’ve asked to come in sooner,” she teased, her fingers tracing idle patterns along your back.
Your only response was to tug her closer, ready to let whatever was building between you take its natural course.
#paige buckets#paige bueckers#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers x reader#uconn huskies#wcbb#uconn wcbb#wlw fanfic#wlw post
157 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ways to say "I love you" - Lewis Hamilton
I'm back with more Lew ❤️
warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angsty
wordcount: +3k
important: each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. There's 10 more of those, but this was getting huge, so this is part 1.
With a hoarse voice, under the blankets
Life had been hectic, as it tended to be around the weeks before the final couple of races. You and Lewis had been on the road since mid October, not really going back to Europe since the US GP in Texas. The week off between São Paulo and Las Vegas the perfect opportunity to take a few days off in California with his friends. It was tiring, but you’d never complain of having a full passport as a down feature for your job.
The week of the Las Vegas GP was packed of events and promo for everyone, and to top it off a quick impromptu meeting with the board in the media day of the GP turned into a 5 hours long debate, that went well into the night.
You got back to your suite almost at midnight in serious need of a shower and some sleep. What you didn’t predict was Lewis already tucked into the bed, sound asleep.
You tiptoed around the room to try and find your things, not being lucky in the slightest you settled for a shirt Lewis had used in the road trip from LA to Vegas. The quick shower, only meant to decompress, had you engulfed in Lewis’ perfume, from both his shower products and shirt.
Lewis soft breathing guided you to the bed in the darkness of the room and when you got under the soft covers a pair of arms guided you to his chest, the one place sure to get you blacked out in minutes.
“They're in serious trouble for keeping you for so long” his horse voice an indication he had been in deep sleep already
“Sorry, took longer than we expected”
“Can’t wait to have you all to myself. Gonna have to lock you up at home during winter”
“No need, I’ll always find my way to you”. You mumbled into his neck, already nestling closer to him, ready to drift off.
A scream
“I love you” You screamed when you realized you’d never catch him, mid airport track, hoping the wind would somehow carry your words. His head turned abruptly, his face had confusion written all over his features, he was stuck in place, too stunned to comprehend the sudden confession you were hollering to the world but couldn’t say aloud to him just hours ago. You ran to him, security, people and restrictions be damned, that was your one chance.
“I love you, Lewis. I have loved you for longer than I care to admit, I have not stopped loving you even when I said I didn’t, even when hating you was all I wanted.” within arm’s reach you admitted breathlessly, doe eyes looking at you with such intensity you were sure he could see into your soul. His hands cautiously outstretching towards yours, waiting for you to take it, waiting for your mind to catch up to the feelings you had just admitted, waiting to see if you’d finally let your heart take over.
You didn’t take his hand though, going instead for the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin at the base of his hairline with your fingers, his overwhelming gaze waiting for your next move, for you to fully give in, looking from his eyes to his mouth until his scent and his touch were all that you felt. His hold on the lower of your back, the brush of his eyelashes on your cheeks and his taste on your lips were all you could ever want. The decision of a lifetime, one that after that day you would make every day, over and over.
On a random Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair
The thing with Lewis was he was too much of an Capricorn for his own good, the earth in him urged for stability and trust, and in the familiarity and serenity of home he urged for security, not that he wanted a predictable life, but he wished that no matter what, he had someone he could fall back on.
“Move in with me” He blurred out of nowhere causing you to lightly laugh at him, scotching closer to his chest as if there was any space left between you, both laying comfortably tangled in each other in his house in London. Pillows and blankets around you on the floor, the late afternoon sunlight hitting the glass on the dining table and reflecting up at the ceiling, a movie on the tv neither were paying attention to.
“I mean it. I don’t see myself without you, I don’t want to anyway.” he almost whispered in your ears, the low volume to his voice amplifying the seriousness in his proposal. Turning your head to look at him you held your gaze into his for minutes, almost daring him to call off the offer, but he never did. His warm smile spreading onto his features when you crocked your head and smirked, specks of the late sunlight glowing where they hit your hair.
“I’d love to” you murmured, straddling him and pushing his chest so he’d lay back down on the blankets, hovering your face over his, leaving ghostly soft kisses on his lips, coming back up to look him in the eye, time and time again. Convincing yourself that it was okay to finally let your walls down for good.
“I love you; you know?!” a statement so surely presented to your, so pure. He didn’t wait to hear it back before pulling your to his chest and his lips, he didn’t have to.
When baking chocolate chip cookies
“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies!” You exclaimed as you entered his home gym in London mid-winter break, supplies in hand already anticipating half of the ingredients wouldn’t exist in his fridge.
“Excuse me?” He questioned as he set the weights down and reached for the towel to get the sweat dry from his forehead
“C’mom, vegan chocolate chip cookies” you rushedly told him already half way back inside, leaving a confused Lewis searching for any meaning to what had just happened.
As he approached his kitchen, he could hear the soft music playing in the speakers in the background while you danced around arranging the things you’d need.
“Care to explain, love?” He leaned at the stool just under the glistening spotlight and the couple of trays spread at the kitchen island.
“Your niece and nephew are coming over tomorrow” She retorted, almost a duh expression on her features as she chopped the vegan chocolate bar.
“Y/n, they know I’m preparing for the season” He lovingly replied, getting closer to you.
“Oh, they’re not exactly for you, Lew. I mean, they’re still vegan if you want to try them.” You turned into his embrace, leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips before wiggling back to where the many food items were.
“You show up at my house midafternoon, fully stacked, to bake vegan cookies for kids that aren’t coming until tomorrow and don’t really expect to eat anything but fruits ?!” He crocked his head, smirk fully on display as his eyes gleamed.
“That’s like half the reason I came. Apples and bananas are fine, but they are kids.” You shrugged as that was the most obvious thing.
“We’re really baking cookies then, I guess?!” He reached to you and grabbed the flour off of your hand, pouring it into a bowl.
“Chocolate chip cookies” You corrected him, laughing as he stole a few of the chopped chocolates still sitting on the chopping board
Not said to me
You jolted up from your sleep when you heard a loud cry, frantically looking around the room you remembered you weren’t home when your eyes found the luggage in the corner, yours and Lewis’s belongings neatly tucked in the adjoining closet, a stark contrast to the baby clothes and toys scattered around the floor and armchairs. Slowly coming to your senses, you realized the crying was in your dreams when you heard a happy babble, followed by your husband’s low voice coming from the balcony of the hotel room.
“Sshh love, we don’t want to wake mamma up now do we? She’s taking a nap so we can go for a walk down the beach later.” The little girl instantly responding with a babble at the word she knew all too well.
Getting up you didn’t have the heart to interrupt the scene that played out when you peaked from the opened French doors of the room, deciding to quietly watch from the threshold as he kept blowing raspberries onto your daughter’s tummy, the chunky toddler in nothing but her diapers, in the hot afternoon summer breeze of Italy in July, excitedly clapping her hands for her dad while sitting on his legs.
“Oh, I miss her too baby, even when she’s just in the other room… I’ll tell you a secret though, even if momma tells the world we’re twins, every time I see your eyes, I see hers, the same one I’ve been in love with for a long time. Everyone says you are my hard carbon copy, but I love that I get to look into a piece of your mommy whenever I look at you".
When we lay together by the sun
The sun in your skin felt divine, a stark contrast to the wintery end of year you’d been having back in Europe, the heat and humidity in the air bringing to your senses the familiarity of northeast Brazilian weather in the hottest months of the year. His touch on your shoulder blades providing even more warmth, big hands massaging your whole back with sunscreen.
“By all means I’m the biggest fan of your back massages, but I put on sunscreen just a couple of hours ago” you giggled looking at him over your shoulders, sunglasses on the tip of your nose.
“Just making sure you’re protected, will you do mine?” He asked after tying the strings on the upper part of your bikini and giving your bum a checky light smack.
“Yeah… come here you Briton” grabbing him by the arms you sat up on the lounger and guided him to sit in between in your legs, his back already hot from the sun exposure.
“Thank you for coming here with me, I know we made it a 4 times header not going home to rest for a bit after Mexico.” You told him while spreading the white content of the Brazilian sunscreen you’d bought, throwing away the british one, not properly suited to sun in the tropics from your past experiences.
“Any time, love.” turning to face you he pulled you by the waist, his signature smirk and relaxed eyes scanning yours. “Especially when it includes this little paradise.”
“Have I told you I love you yet?” You questioned, the toothy grin he loved so much splattered on your face, his strong arms around you, the sounds of crashing waves in the background, white sand in your toes and his skin smelling just like your favorite childhood memories did.
“Not today, I don’t think so. Eu te amo” a questioning look as he tested his Portuguese around you, crushing his lips in yours while you giggled, raising you up to his body so he could hold you in his lap, his touch also how home felt to you.
Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble
He felt the first little droplets of rain hit his skin as soon as she screamed “run”, laughing while holding her oversized hat to her head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her waist, effortlessly stopping them both and turning her body to him, her eyes holding the warmth that lately he could only find there, his face adorned with adoration, her dimples fully showing as her lips plastered the sweetest of grins.
“I love you” He couldn’t help himself, those 3 little words coming out as easily as breath, the thought of how hard it’d been to get them out in the first place long forgotten. She held his gaze as if trying to eternalize those memories, the afternoon summer rain falling hard around them whilst rays of sunlight hit the concrete, their clothes drenched, drops of water running down their tangled bodies.
“I love you; I love you; I love you” senseless babbles that professed his utmost emotion, holding her up to him and kissing in the pouring rain like they were teenagers in a cheesy movie.
A whisper in the ear
Being back to Europe always took you some time to get acclimated, and it didn’t help that that particular winter had been the coldest in years, so much colder than what your body was used to, so you wrapped yourself up in blankets waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, hopefully helping you to warm up.
His parents, siblings, niece and nephew were gathered for an impromptu 5 days getaway in the mountains, in the middle of wintery January, snow everywhere and days filled with winter sports, fireplaces and laughter from the people that had welcomed you as family.
“Hey gorgeous, I thought you’d still be down there” he smirked his way to the open luggage on the little sofa by the bed, towel low on his hips and another in his hand for his face.
“Everyone went to bed, something about getting some sleep to beat you on the slopes tomorrow” You giggled the last part, knowing how competitive they could get. He chuckled and made his way towards you, getting under the blankets and bringing you over to his side, just his presence enough to soothe away the tight muscles from the cold.
“How come you’re always running so cold?” he whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and hips and bringing you to his chest. His skin radiating warmth and the smell of your body wash, since he’d forgotten to pack his. Fingers absentmindedly tracing random patterns on your thighs, your eyes lazily trying to focus on the news on the tv but failing miserably, the world could wait until the next morning.
“I love you” was the last thing you heard he whisper, his hoarse voice heavy with sleep, his arms scooching your body closer to his while making sure the blankets covered you both before he let his own sleep take over.
As we huddle together, the storm raging outside
Sundays after races would always be busy for the both of you. The rain was falling hard as you entered the small RV as quietly as you could, founding Lewis ingulfed in his own thoughts and feelings when you finally cleared through your duties, way past the time you wish had.
Taking in how his arms and back looked tense while he rested his head on both his hands sitting in the small sofa, you brought yourself to stand right in front of him, softly running your finger on his neck until he looked up offering a sad side smile and tugged you to his lap. You hadn’t spoken to each other since before he got in his car, well over 4 hours prior, but you didn’t have to.
He needed time to process what happened, he always did. Lewis could always come to interviews looking like he had it all together, always with the right words, but you knew, from the crease in his forehead and the way his shoulders dropped whenever he breathed a little deeper, that his calculating-looking actions and words were just knee-jerk reactions.
“I love you” you said into his neck, a consolation of sorts, huddling together, sitting on his lap with his head resting on your chest and his arms holding your waist tightly. At least in that small room, neither of you had to think about the storm brewing outside, not yet anyway.
Over the shoulder
The championship had, yet again, came down to the last race and the doom could be felt even from outsiders. The last time it happened Lewis wasn’t even a Ferrari driver, but everyone remembered.
You had tried to block the subject from your conversations with him, warned everyone he had enough of the comparisons, made sure he had all the space to breath, concentrate and shield all the noise from the outside. Yet, in the apparent serenity of the hotel bedroom, the quietness would scream back at him.
“What if it’s not meant to be?” He snapped you out of your thoughts as you finished some reports on your computer. His eyes a mix of something you couldn’t quite pint point, his walls up even for you.
“Then you’re still a 7 times world champion, a driver who’s won for McLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari, a trailblazer in the sport, entrepreneur over a variety of assets, founder of Mission 44, British knight, Brazilian honorary citizen, Anthony and Carmen’s son, Nicolas’ brother, my mom’s favorite son-in-law… oh and Roscoe’s dad, of course.” He smiled as you got to his family, scootching over to be by your side on the balcony sofa and laying his head on your lap.
“I would hate to be an almost champion… twice”
“Yeah, we would all hate that too. And it’s okay to feel all kinds of way about possible results, but we’re not gonna known until we know, right?!” You felt him humm in response, your fingertips going through his braids, trying to sooth the tensions away from him.
It wasn’t until the soft humming of a phone in the bedroom that you realized you had fallen asleep in the balcony, his body moving almost automatically to get him up while his features revealed how he too had dozed off.
“Will you still love an almost champion?” He prompted suddenly, almost like he had just remembered he had to know, eyes twinkling under the lights.
“Babe, I stayed even in the timbs phase, didn’t I?” You smirked back earning a full soundless chuckle, those that had him reach for his diaphragm and shake his head left to right.
“You’re lucky I love you; you really are.” You heard as he looked over his shoulders just as he got back inside.
#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1
633 notes
·
View notes
Text
2k, carcar, dress
“No,” Oscar said firmly. “No, no, no. This is all wrong on you.”
“I don’t.” Carlos ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Not a little big stung. Surely it didn’t look so bad. “I don’t see what’s wrong with it.”
It was true it wasn’t his favourite shade of purple. And it was shorter than what he would’ve liked. With his heels he would be spending the entire night tugging the dress down. But it was tight around the waist, and it made him look, well. Pretty good, all things considered.
“What’s wrong with it,” Carlos said, a little plaintively. A little defensively. This had to have been his worst idea yet.
He didn’t know why he was having trouble meeting Oscar’s eyes through the mirror. It didn’t make any sense, why Oscar looked this way. Almost offended at the violet on Carlos’s skin. It didn’t make Carlos feel any better about having to put himself through this dog-and-pony show.
“It’s just not good,” Oscar said.
Carlos hid the way that grazed his underbelly by fiddling with the zip of the dress. Oscar’s fingers twitched by his sides, and for a delusional second, Carlos assumed he would come over and help.
“Fine,” Carlos said, relieved his voice didn’t wobble. “What do you suggest?”
Oscar didn’t answer, too busy rifling through the rack with an intensity Carlos had only known him to reserve for driving. He pushed away the Elie Saab which just so happened to be another unfortunate shade of lavender, then flicked through the long-sleeved Valentino as if he had just tasted a lemon. You’ve lost your mind, Carlos wanted to say. It’s a dress. For the silliest event of the year. With the silliest rules I’m just so happened to be bound by.
“No red,” Carlos said faintly. He didn’t know if he could stomach that, wearing a reminder of his dismissal on the very last event on their calendar, before he could finally be rid of horses and pretty teammates.
“No,” Oscar agreed. He sounded fervent. “Try this one.”
A midnight-blue backless Guy Laroche. It seemed—dignified. Nobody needed to stare at him head-on, they could do so from the back. That was fine with Carlos, just fine.
But then Oscar looked away, when Carlos slipped out of one noose into another, and Carlos’s gut churned with a resentment that he couldn’t bite down.
He would’ve paid the twenty-thousand dollar fine to skip this event entirely. The past three years he played the part obediently, wrapped himself in the shade everyone expected him to adorn. Stood next to Charles, who always looked as if rose were made for his skin. Carlos was tired. That was the simple truth of it.
Caco had grimaced, when Carlos half-jokingly half-hopefully said he might play hooky this year. They both knew it wasn’t possible. Ferrari was looking, even though the weight of their gaze shouldn’t matter any longer. Williams was looking. As was everyone else who carried opinions and expectations that seemed to stack against his future.
There were maybe a few people, he didn’t mind looking. Lando was always cheerful, leading him in dances that would result in Carlos giving up and tossing his heels. Gigi always got teary-eyed whenever Carlos dressed up. Then there was another—
Well. Who currently didn’t seem to want to look at Carlos at all.
--
Oscar happened to be there in the last race. Surprisingly made the effort for small talk. “Any plans for the break,” he’d said, and he’d looked as if he really wanted to know.
“I’ve got the FIA thing,” Carlos said. Then winced, because duh. They all had it. The reality of not having plans settled uncomfortably around his throat. It was kind of sad. He just had to get through the prize-giving for last place, and then, only then, would Carlos think about what came next.
“Don’t sound so excited,” Oscar said wryly. He sounded kind, like he knew. Actually. That probably wasn’t—Oscar was just being polite. Carlos was remembering it all wrong. Oscar probably sounded just like how he always sounded.
The Carlos who had just finished his final lap with a team who didn’t want him anymore was too worn down to notice. It was a kindness, and he had reached for it greedily like a starving man.
“I hate going to the gala,” he blurted out.
“Ah,” Oscar said. He was fully turned toward Carlos now. Carlos was probably also remembering this part wrong.
“I never.” He swallowed. “I never know what to wear.”
Stupid, silly things to be worried about. He was driving for Williams next year, and he was worried about what to wear. Such nonsense. The same kind of fruitlessness as gripping the wheel harder when skidding off a track with busted tyres.
Oscar’s mouth opened, then shut. If Carlos wasn’t being so morose, he would’ve scored some smugness, rendering Oscar speechless. A feat. He would have to remember this one.
“Anyway,” Carlos started, attempting to spare Oscar the need to formulate a response to something so banal. “I’ll probably just throw something on—”
“I have sisters,” Oscar said.
“Oh-kay,” Carlos said. Oscar’s talked about them before. “I think I knew that.”
“I mean, I could. I could help.”
It was Carlos’s turn for his mouth to flop open. “Help. Eh. As in?”
“Help dress you,” Oscar said.
Oscar fiddled with the straw of his bottle, then took a long, long sip. In that span of time, Carlos’s mouth stayed open. For the first time ever, he cursed the fact that Abu Dhabi was a night race. He couldn’t see Oscar’s expression clearly enough.
“I mean,” Oscar tried again, sounding like he was scraping foam desperately off gravel, “if you want. If you. Uh, wanted a second eye. I could, maybe help you pick something?”
Carlos’s voice wasn’t working.
Oscar barrelled on determinedly. Very un-Oscar-like, except for the determinedly. “It’s, uhm. You know. Easy, for us alphas. We just wear our boring suits.”
“I’d prefer a boring suit,” Carlos said.
“I know,” Oscar had said, very soft.
It was the way he said it, that made Carlos think he wasn’t imagining it. The kindness. Oscar was looking at him, waiting. It was easy to roll over and accept.
--
There was none of that kindness now it seemed. Oscar was choosing to be extremely particular with his already particular brand of honesty.
“No,” Oscar said again.
Carlos was no longer five, and he could no longer throw a temper and come out the other side without shame. Dimly, he was aware he was porcupining, extending his edges all sharp enough to cut.
He took a frustrated breath, ran a hand through his already mussed-up hair, from all the changing. The dress was a little long for him, but it’d do in a pinch. He could always go for the higher heels.
“Again. I don’t—Oscar. What’s wrong with this one?”
“It’s no good on you,” Oscar said, already back at the rack. “We should try the Dior.”
“No need,” Carlos said. He was sore every place a body could be sore. There were only so many times he could hear, It’s no good. After the season he’d just had. “This one will do.”
“Carlos,” Oscar said, like he was gearing up for an argument.
This adamant, over a dress. Over something Carlos didn’t want to care for, but clearly cared for enough that he’d listen to someone tell him what was right and what was not. Over and over. Story of his life.
“There are better options.”
“Enough,” Carlos said, and this time, his voice shook.
Oscar whipped his head around. He caught Carlos’s expression, and then his usually placid expression—turned not very placid at all.
“Carlos,” he said, stricken.
“Don’t,” Carlos snapped, and then instantly felt like a terrible person. Oscar was just trying to help, and Carlos just couldn’t help being difficult.
Oscar took a helpless step toward him, and Carlos stumbled away, tripping on the hem of the too-long dress. He was furious to find his eyes sting.
“I’m going to. The bathroom,” he said, and then fled like a coward, even though he could hear Oscar’s frantic calling from behind him.
Crying over something like this! He looked up, felt the water well up at the bottom of his eyelid, felt the weight exceed the threshold capacity and spill over. He took a deep, deep breath, stared at himself in the mirror. Resisted the urge to call himself names. Resisted the urge to rub at his eyes, so they wouldn’t turn so noticeably red. Carlos tilted his head up, breathed and breathed.
He touched a paper towel lightly against his eyes. The walk back to the change room was stupidly mortifying. He was going to have to apologize. And he really hated doing that.
--
Oscar was gone, nowhere to be found. In his place, a warm, orange halter-gown. Saint-Laurent. Carlos wanted to roll his eyes, but the material was very soft to the touch, and—what the heck.
He tried it on.
It was long enough, but not long enough that it needed heels. He could wear shoes.
--
“You look exceptionally lovely,” Lando said.
“Why thank you.” He laughed, as Lando attempted to twirl him in a circle. Dancing would never be one of Lando’s strong points.
“No, really,” Lando said. His eyes were keen, his scent stronger than usual. “Carlos, you look incredible.”
He didn’t think he looked anything special, just comfortable. Oddly at ease in his skin. But his lips were moving faster than his brain. “Oscar picked it out.”
“What?” Lando’s voice drew up sharp. “Oscar—what?”
“He has sisters,” Carlos said weakly.
Lando frowned. “So do you.”
Uh. Right. The thought never even occurred.
“Congrats,” Carlos quickly said. “That trophy—next year it’ll be first place, huh Landito?”
The sourness he felt was cancelled out by Lando’s grin. Carlos was happy to be led, even if it was a little bumpy. Lando chatted in his ear, about everything and nothing. Gigi came around for a much more dignified dance. Fred linked an arm with him, and they skipped in zig-zag formations. Charles swayed with him, just for one dance, and Carlos could not begrudge him a bit of fondness.
Oscar kept his distance, though Carlos knew he was there by the inoffensive smell of cardamom. It burned him to know if Oscar thought this one, at last, suited him.
Good enough? Good enough for you?
He finished a dance, then another. Everyone wanted a turn. He was getting called beautiful a lot. It was a good thing he was in sensible shoes. Carlos thanked his partners, curtsied as gracefully as he could bring himself to. Then used them as opportunities to look. Over their shoulders, finally, a glimpse of Oscar’s boring suit. Deep green, a Zegna tailored to fit like second skin.
Sure. That’s so boring, Oscar.
There was something unfamiliar on Oscar’s moving, blurry face, even with the familiar, wry smile Oscar was wearing. There was something unfamiliar in Oscar’s scent too. The mellowed wisp that always came with apology, the sharp tang that preceded desire. Yearning mixed with hesitance. Right about how Carlos supposed he would be smelling himself.
All that wine, and Carlos’s nose was still acting as if it knew everything.
Oscar was going to make him wait. He was always going to be the biggest pain Carlos knew. Ever since the time they met in sparks, then held each other lengthwise apart on a couch. Carlos was learning a good deal about patience, this year. It would do him well for the seasons after.
“Well?” he said, when an arm curled gingerly around his back. Carlos allowed himself a moment of weakness, leaned in where Oscar’s scent could stroke his nose. The arm around his back tightened, almost possessively. It felt, wondrously, like an anchor in a ballroom of quicksand. “Good enough?”
“For you,” Oscar said.
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chase It
It was the third date, and it was terrifying. Terrifying and exhilarating. She loved it, she loved him.
F1 x twisters lmao
Warnings: hints of smut, slight cowboy hat rule
Viv's AUgust Event
Daniel Ricciardo was crazy. But he was that good kind of crazy that got your heart racing and your blood pumping. Being around him was exhilarating.
The way he asked her on a third date, she should have known something was going on, should have known he had something planned. But she agreed. She said yes, she got dressed and she set off to his ranch.
Their first date had been in the hayloft. She hadn't planned on sleeping with him, but the way he laid her against the hay (covered in a blanket), she wrapped her legs around him kissed his neck as he rutted into her.
She pulled up to the little house in the middle of the ranch and climbed out of her car. Daniel's ranch was lovely. He had so much land and he filled it with cattle and horses. The house was big enough for four people, but Daniel was the only person that lived there.
She walked onto the wrap around porch. On their second date they'd sat on the swing seat and just talked. Well, talked until she opened that big belt buckle and freed him from his jeans. Daniel had kissed her as she moved her hand along his dick.
She knocked on his door. A few seconds later and the door opened. There Daniel stood, cowboy hat on his head and grin on his face. "Hi honey," he said and pulled her inside. He kissed her quickly as he kicked the door shut.
"Give me a couple minutes and we'll get going," he said, taking his hat from his head and placing it on her own. A promise of things to come later.
"Where are we going?" She asked as he grabbed his keys from the hook. He didn't answer as he grabbed bottles of water from his fridge.
Arm around her shoulder, he led her outside and over to his truck. His truck was fully kitted out for something, she just didn't know what. Every time she'd asked, he'd just laughed and tapped her nose.
He held her hand as she climbed into the truck. "Danny." She pushed her fingers through his dark curls. "Where are we going?"
He squeezed her knee. "You'll see."
She never expected to go storm chasing. Never expected to race towards that grey, swirling mass. The wind was whipping the truck, but they were heavy enough to be stable. The windscreen wipers moved rapidly, clearing the windscreen for Daniel to see where he was going. "We're just going to get close, right?" She shouted over the sound of the wind.
Daniel didn't answer. She was getting pretty sick of this, but he wasn't slowing the truck. She held onto the dashboard and shut her eyes as Daniel drove into the eye of the tornado.
Pressing a button, the truck anchored itself down. "Open your eyes, honey," he said as he placed his hand on her knee.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.
It was incredible. The storm raged around them, but Daniel didn't care. "Holy shit," she whispered as she leaned forward to get a better look.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Daniel said, squeezing her knee.
In two seconds he had a hold of her. He pulled her onto his lap and gripped her hips. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as she leaned in to brush her lips against his own. "It's brilliant, Danny," she whispered and kissed him.
His hands gripped her so damn tight, holding her against him as he kissed her. He kissed across her jaw and down her neck as the tornado moved past them. Her eyes were fixed on it as it got further and further away from them.
"Let's head home," she mumbled as her fingers drummed against his big, shiny belt buckle.
Daniel took his hat from her head and placed it back on her own. They could have just climbed into the back seat of the truck and fucked like there so no tomorrow. But Daniel wanted to lay her somewhere comfortable. After the hayloft and the swing seat, she deserved it.
Releasing the anchor on the truck, Daniel drove her back to his ranch. He sang along to the music on the radio as she watched the storm in the rearview mirror. One storm and she was hooked.
He parked up in front of the farm house and climbed out of his truck. Ever the gentleman, he opened the door and held her hand as she stepped down from the truck. There was still wind and rain, and he spun her around before leading her to the house.
His lips were on hers even before he had the door open. He fumbled with the key before he pushed it into the lock and got the door open.
"Fuck, honey," he grunted as he walked her in and kicked the door shut behind her. "Tell me you'll be mine." He walked her back until she was resting against the arm of the brown leather couch.
She sat on the arm of the couch, wrapped her arms around his neck and fell backwards, pulling him on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his (slutty man) waist and stared into his pretty eyes. "I'm yours, Danny," she said and ran her fingers through his hair and knocked his Stetson to the floor. "I'm all yours."
#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x you#cowboy!danny#dr3#dr3 imagine#dr3 x reader#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#cowboy!f1#cowboy!au
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
regency era!ghost x reader au (part 3)
The social calendar brought you and Duke Simon Riley together once again, this time at the annual charity horse race organized by Lady Montague. The event was held on the expansive family estate, where the elite of the ton gathered to watch, place bets, and socialize in the exhilarating clamor of neighing horses and cheering spectators.
You stood by the paddock, watching the horses being paraded before the race. The sun was warm on your face, and the air was brimming with excitement. You had always enjoyed the thrill of horse racing, and today was no exception. As you chat with friends, discussing the prospects of the various riders, you feel a presence beside you.
Turning, you find Simon standing there, his eyes fixed on the horses. He looks as stern as ever, his jaw set in a hard line.
“Your Grace,” you say, bowing your head slightly. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Lady Montague was quite insistent,” he replies, not bothering to look at you or greet you properly. You huff at his impoliteness, already wanting to rid of him. “I couldn’t refuse her invitation.”
“Of course,” you say, a hint of sarcasm creeping into your voice. “It’s your duty, even at a charity event.”
He finally glances at you, his eyes narrowing. “Yes, duty. Something I believe you understand, though our interpretations seem to differ.”
You bristle at his tone but keep your composure. “Is there no place where we can avoid bickering, Mister Riley?”
“I could ask you the same, my lady,” he shoots back, voice gruff.
Before you could retort, Lady Montague’s voice rings out, calling for everyone’s attention. The races are about to begin, and you move toward the grandstand, taking a seat with a group of your friends. To your dismay, Simon took a seat not far from you; you turn your nose up, trying your best to ignore him.
The first few races pass without incident, the crowd cheering and clapping as the horses and riders thundered past the finish line. When the final race of the day was about to start, the crowd grew quiet, everyone on the edge of their seat to see who would win their bets.
The race began, and you found yourself caught up in the excitement, leaning forward in your seat as the horses sprinted around the track. Just as the horse in the lead was about to cross the finish line, another horse stumbled, causing a chain reaction that sent several horses and their riders crashing into the ground. Gasps and shouts filled the air, and you stood up in shock, watching the chaos unfold.
Without a second thought, you hurry down the grandstand, making your way toward the track to see if anyone was seriously hurt. As you reach the scene, you see Simon already there, helping one of the fallen riders to his feet.
You spot another rider struggling to get up, your heart pounding in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
You start to push through the crowd, but before you could make your way towards the rider, Simon steps in front of you, blocking your path.
Despite your urgency to help the injured rider, Simon's abrupt intervention halts your progress, and frustration bubbles within you. You lock eyes with him, ready to demand an explanation for his interference, but before you can speak, he raises a hand in a commanding gesture.
"Wait," he says, his tone firm and authoritative. "It's too dangerous."
Your eye twitches at his presumption, your concern for the injured rider outweighing any patience you might have mustered. "I can't just stand by and do nothing," you retort, your voice edged with frustration.
"You could get hurt," he says, his voice low and stern. "There's a difference between helping and being reckless, my lady."
"And you think I don't know that? Don’t lecture me about recklessness,” you reply, your voice equally low but sharp. "I can’t just stand by and do nothing."
You attempt to move around him, and he grabs your arm gently but firmly, his grip insistent. His hand feels hot against your skin. “Please, trust me on this,” he implores, his voice resolute. “I can’t believe you are so stubborn that you would try to put yourself in harm’s way without thinking.”
"I am thinking!" you snap. “I’m thinking about those riders, the horses, and—"
"And not about your own safety," he interrupts, his voice rising. "Which is exactly my point."
You go silent at that, swallowing your words.
Simon presses his fingers into the flesh of your arm a little more firmly, but not uncomfortably. “I understand your desire to help, but rushing in without a plan only adds to the chaos. Let the professionals handle it.”
You hesitate, torn between your desire to help and the logic in Simon’s words. Taking a breath, you relent, biting your tongue and acknowledging the truth in his words. “Fine,” you concede, your voice tight. “But only because it’s the sensible thing to do.”
Simon nods, a flicker of relief passing across his features as he lets go of your arm. "Thank you," he says, his voice genuine, though still laced with his usual aloofness. With that, he turns on his heel and starts directing the crowd.
As Simon takes charge, organizing the crowd and ensuring the injured riders receive prompt medical attention, you step back slightly, watching his authoritative demeanor with an apprehensive appreciation. You can't deny the effectiveness of his approach.
And, despite his usual arrogance and abrasive demeanor, there was something undeniably compelling about the way he handled himself in this moment.
Your gaze lingered on him, the lines of his face etched with determination as he barked orders at the crowd, his every move calculated and precise. For a brief moment, you found yourself seeing him in a different light, the harsh edges of his personality softened by the gravity of the whole situation.
Unexpectedly, Simon's gaze flickers to your direction, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. You quickly avert your eyes, a faint heat flooding into your face at the sudden rush of self-awareness.
You’re left feeling both unsettled and strangely captivated, and you can’t help but wonder if there was more to the Duke than met the eye.
part 2 < > part 4
#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon “ghost” riley x reader#simon “ghost” riley x you#hyperactivelyme#*ੈ✩ simon “ghost” riley
181 notes
·
View notes
Note
please please please write a Rick and a female reader fic!!! the reader kisses Rick and she gets all shy but also feels like she read Rick wrong after it btw Rick isn’t with anyone and the reader is just a few years younger than him maybe he confesses if you want to
𝐀𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞~
genre: fluff pairing: Rick Grimes x f!reader summary: Reader can't hold back anymore but show Rick what she feels for him. warning: age gap(reader is in her early 20s)
a/n: this was a bit rushed... and im still working on other requests, they're just taking some time.
The barn was quiet, just the sound of birds chirping, and flies buzzing could be heard. It was almost sunset, and you were out feeding the horses.
You held the green bucket filled with fruits and vegetables that Beth and you had cut up that evening. The horse snorts as it leans towards the bucket, consuming its dinner.
Staying at the farm with the Greene's and the rest of the group was everything you could wish for. You were sleeping under a roof, sharing a room with Beth, which was fine. There was also a lot of land and trees where you would often spend time reading.
It was perfect.
The sound of footsteps behind you startles you, snapping you out of your thoughts.
When you turn around, you find Rick standing there, a hand on his belt.
You offer a small smile, growing a little shy that Rick is here. "Hey." You greet him before turning to glance at the horse as it moves its snout from the bucket.
"Need something?" You ask, finally facing Rick, hands a bit sticky with the juice of the fruit and dirt. You stand inside the horse pen, the fence between you both, the horse snorting in the background.
A hint of a smile grows on Rick's face as he looks at you. It's rare for him to smile these days, with all the recent events in the group.
Poor Carol.
"Just wanted to check on the horses..." Rick says before trailing off for a moment.
You nod slowly, eyes on the ground. You bite the inside of your cheek as you glance back at the horses, who are now walking toward their stall.
"Horse is fine." You point with your thumb. Was he really here to check on the horse?
Rick smiles again, this time more genuine, as he watches the horse walk away before returning his gaze to you. "Yeah, I can see that now.”
It’s silent for a while. The birds could be heard chirping as they flew by. It was still surprising to see and hear the sounds of animals out in the wild. Especially since the outbreak had begun.
“So…?” You try to initiate a conversation to ease the nervousness in you.
“Needed an excuse to come see you.” Rick eventually says after a few seconds, turning his head to look away from you.
Surprise is evident on your face. "An excuse to come see me...?" You murmur under your breath, eyes searching his side profile for a few seconds before darting away a bit timid.
He looks back at you, taking a step forward and placing his hand on the fence between you. He lets out a faint sigh and scratches the back of his head.
"Yeah. An excuse. I just wanted to come see you and talk." His voice now sounded vulnerable and somewhat tense. You never imagined Rick sounding like this. He was the complete opposite.
A faint giggle leaves you, “I didn't expect you to be this straightforward." You tell him, tucking your hair behind your ear, a habit of yours when shy or nervous. You let my fingers trail down to your ear lobe, touching it as you look up at him.
Rick lets out a small chuckle at your slight joke before taking notice of your hand, noticing how you always tend to touch your ear when you get shy.
With a gentle look in his eyes, he reaches forward and grabs your hand with his own, gently squeezing it as he brings it down.
"I thought it'd be better to be straightforward." He says his voice was sweet while staring into your eyes as the sun sets behind you. You could feel the warmth of the sun’s rays hitting your back and it just made you feel alive.
Your heart begins to race when you feel the warmth of his hand, taking your hand away from your ear. Your hand and his rested above the almost chest-high wooden fence dividing you both.
Your eyes meet once more, the action causing your lips to form into a sheepish smile. Rick has always been someone you admired greatly for his leadership role in the group and for being able to resolve almost anything quickly. But not only did you admire him, you also loved him more than a leader.
"I wanted to come see you because...." he speaks, his voice trailing off for a few seconds as he glimpses down at your lips, noticing your shy smile.
He continues, his voice becoming even more nervous, but at the same time, more sincere. He stops, struggling to assemble his words and thoughts.
"I wanted to ask if... perhaps..."
Seeing him like this made you feel something. You left him speechless and… nervous? You were probably the only one to have that effect on Rick.
This weird feeling bore over you and so without thinking it through, you stand on the end of your toes to come to level with his face, leaning your other hand on the fence to maintain balance.
You press a chaste kiss on his lips, touching the softness of his on yours as you do. Just getting a sense of what it could be before pulling away. It was short and innocent. Nothing else.
Rick's brain shuts off for a moment as you tiptoe up towards him, giving him a quick peck on the lips. He can't think of anything, except that this has to be the best moment of his life.
The feeling of your hand in his, the smell of the fresh hay lying around, the soft touch of your lips, and just you standing in front of him.
It's all he could ever ask for.
A sense of calm washes over him, silence falling once more. His gaze softens as if admiring you and wanting more.
Taking note of how quiet he was made you start to regret kissing him. You blink several times, lashes fluttering with dread and shame.
Maybe you read his intentions wrong. He probably didn't come here to reveal his love or something.
What if he came here for something else?
What if he was just being nice because you’re younger and inexperienced with this whole survival thing?
At this point, you were just overthinking.
“I'm so sorry, I took it too far. I read it all wrong and, and… I'm so sorry." You open your mouth, letting out a shaky breath before beginning to rant, eyes glossy up a little from the slight panic you felt inside. Your stare falls to the fence and then to your hand still in his.
"No, no," Rick replies quickly, shaking his head and trying to reassure you. He puts his other hand up and cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your burning cheek.
Rick’s gentle caring voice seems to ease you. “Don’t,” he says slowly, grabbing your chin to stop you from looking away, "Don't be sorry, sweetheart... I liked it."
You feel butterflies burst in you when he confesses to enjoying the short kiss. You’ve had boyfriends in the past, but Rick is different. He may be older by a couple of years, but he makes you feel seen and important. Something your exes failed to do.
The sun sets on the horizon, the breeze now warm but still refreshing against your skin.
"You have no idea how long... how incredibly long I've wanted to tell you," He clarifies to you, his voice clear with devotion. “I want to share the rest of my life with you. I want to protect you from what the world has become. I want you.” His brows knit together, a worried expression on his face as he waits for you to say something.
You beam at his words and give his hand a slight squeeze, showing him that you saw him. “I do too, Rick.”
#rick grimes#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x fem!reader#twd x reader#twd imagine#twd fanfiction#twd fluff#twd fic#the walking dead#carl grimes#glenn rhee#daryl dixon#thank you for requesting!
205 notes
·
View notes
Text
BORN TO DIE
Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.
Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading.
PREVIEW TWO
ONE
The journey back to the Red Keep is silent. Aemond communicates only through impatient grunts whenever your hand slips from his waist or when a trot from his horse makes you sway closer to him. The truth is, you’re unsure how to hold onto his waist without practically merging with him. And he’s impatiently racing toward the castle. Your mind is restless. How are you supposed to claim a dragon for Prince Aemond? And what if you fail and end up dead?
"When we arrive at the Red Keep, follow me without further interaction. It’s crucial that your existence remains a secret. We’ll depart as soon as possible to find some use for you. However, your clothes, as well as your smell, betray your origins as a smallfolk. If I’m to endure this journey in your company, it’s better that you’re not reeking." Aemond’s first words directed at you cause discomfort. Not that being treated this way is new, but the discomfort comes from the reality that, once you head toward Dragonstone with Aemond.
"It seems that the mighty Prince Aemond is forgetting that the only safe way to reach Dragonstone without being recognized is by looking like someone like me. Without that fancy attire or that fresh scent, as if you’ve just bathed. Even your silky hair gives away your position. I know how to be invisible, my dear Prince; the question is whether you can be too." You speak, resisting a fleeting urge to lean against Prince Aemond’s back and rest your head on his shoulders.
"I don’t recall asking for your opinion on the matter. Allow me to offer you the opportunity to remain silent before I silence you for good." Prince Aemond could easily embody the arrogant prince. You glance over your shoulder and notice him slightly turning back, likely wanting to gauge your reaction to his threat. You stare at him without saying a word, and you can tell he’s proud of having silenced you.
A few moments later, you arrive at the Red Keep. In that first moment, you question how you’re supposed to dismount from the cursed horse. Aemond has no trouble at all, though he nearly knocks you off in the process of getting down himself. He then begins speaking with some of the King’s guards. Unsure of what to say, you remain silent, still on the horse. You think that if you were to risk a deadly escape, this would be the perfect moment—though lacking any real riding skills, you probably wouldn’t get far. Just then, something makes Prince Aemond notice your hesitation.
“Do you intend to stay on that horse all day? We have tasks to complete,” Prince Aemond snaps, his tone sharp and impatient—his usual demeanor. You look at him, embarrassed. Perhaps he expected a prostitute to know how to dismount a horse with ease. After all, riding cock it's part of what you do for a living.
"I do not intend to waste any more of your time, Your Highness. But I must point out that if I have no idea how to get on a horse, how am I supposed to get off?" You look at Prince Aemond with a certain boldness, wanting to laugh at the angry expression that hovers over his face. He says nothing, simply extends his hands toward you and immediately pulls you down, as if his impatience has reached its limit. His cold hands brush against your skin, indirectly touching your thigh as he yanks you off the horse. You let out a small groan, not as quiet as you would have liked but nothing too conspicuous. The feeling of his hands on you sends shivers down your spine. He however, slightly drops you on the floor as if you were an expendable utensil. You almost stagger but manage to balance yourself as you watch Prince Aemond turn away. You fix your ragged dress as he tries to compose himself, before following Aemond who is already entering the castle.
Aemond orders a few servants to assist you in bathing and changing out of your current attire. He instructs them to provide you with discreet clothing and a cloak. Then he turns to you and whispers near your face, "When you’re done bathing, come to my chambers." You’re not entirely sure why he wants this or if he realizes you have no idea where his chambers are. But you nod gently, confirming that you will go to him.
A servant leads you to a secluded area where there’s a communal bathing space, with other servants also bathing. The sensation of being seen by strangers while you’re naked is a familiar one. Murmurs fill the air, and everyone seems curious about you, though no one speaks to you directly. Not even the servant assisting you. You imagine they’re afraid of Aemond. After all, you are like them—a servant. Moments later, you find yourself dressed in different clothes, delicate and unlike anything you’re used to wearing. The servant finally speaks when she notices your confused gaze, searching for Prince Aemond’s chambers.
"Prince Aemond's chambers are just beyond that door. Knock before entering if you wish to remain alive." The servant speaks softly with unexpected delicacy. You look at her as if relieved to finally know where his chambers are. You want to thank her but imagine that she would rather pretend that this interaction between you two never happened. So you quickly head to Prince Aemond's chambers, silently and taken by nervousness. The servant's words are still clear in your mind as you knock on the door.
Despite knocking on the door, there was no response. You find yourself compelled to enter Aemond’s chambers without an invitation. You fear his anger for not following his order to come to him after bathing. You enter quietly, taking calm steps and making no noise. The first thing you notice is how spacious the room is and how warm it feels compared to the cold water you just bathed in. You immediately think that being a legitimate child of a King must have unimaginable advantages, and you wish you could one day enjoy such comfort for yourself.
"Since you so imprudently entered my chambers, perhaps you'd like to assist me…" Prince Aemond says, appearing suddenly in front of you, which startles you. But it’s not exactly his presence that frightens you. What frightens you is the fact that he is naked. Completely naked, just with his hair loose, even without the eyepatch. Immediately you turn around.
"Your Highness, what kind of assistance do you require from me?" You speak almost as clearly as you can. You have just seen Prince Aemond's cock. And despite your familiarity with cocks, you were not prepared. For a moment, you hope he doesn't misinterpret your reaction.
"I require your assistance to bathe. Do not let your imagination deceive you; I have no intention of having you as a woman in any situation, neither now nor in the future," he says, his tone dry, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. He truly seems to disdain you, yet he prefers your assistance over that of any other servant in the castle. You nod slightly, acknowledging that you understand he does not desire you, and then turn to approach the bathtub where Aemond has just entered. You need to crouch but manage to assist Prince Aemond as you take the sponge and begin to wash his body.
"Prince Aemond, do you really intend to leave your dragon here and come with me to claim another dragon?" you ask, trying to gently wash his body with the sponge while he seems lost in his own thoughts before your question interrupts him.
"Certainly, it is a risk. But leaving a prostitute I do not trust to seek out a precious asset like a dragon, whether alone or accompanied by one of the Kingsguard, seems foolish to me," Prince Aemond says, observing you with his remaining eye as you touch his back and neck with the sponge. The scent of flowers from the bathwater fills the air, creating a palpable tension between you and Aemond.
"If you do not trust anyone around you, your nights must be quite restless. I may not understand what it means to be a Prince, but it seems lonely not being able to count on someone to do what you expect of them. At least you seem to trust Vhagar, since you’re leaving her here," you say, turning to wash the front of Prince Aemond, positioning yourself face-to-face with him. He then grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him. His remaining eye seems to bore into your soul as you face him, the scar over his other eye drawing even more attention. You don't understand the reason for his sudden proximity, though you can guess that you must have irritated him.
"Your curiosity about my feelings is an inconvenience. Whether my nights are restful or not is of no concern to you. Whether I trust or distrust those around me is irrelevant to you. The only matter you need to focus on at this moment is that you are to claim a dragon on behalf of the rightful King Aegon II. Now, you may leave my chambers. A servant will show you where you will be staying for the night. Tomorrow, we shall depart for Dragonstone," he says with a stern demeanor. You sense that you have touched upon something deeply personal. You set the sponge aside in the bath and, without further words, proceed to find your lodgings for the night.
The following morning, you are roused by a servant who informs you that Prince Aemond is awaiting your presence. Your body aches from having slept in a corner, far from the scrutiny of any significant figures in the castle, as per the Prince’s instructions to remain as inconspicuous as possible. You are provided with a piece of bread and a bit of water to refresh yourself, and then you are prepared for departure. A cloak is draped over you to aid in disguising your appearance.
You are then escorted to the castle’s exit, where you find Prince Aemond waiting with a stern expression. He is clad in a hooded cloak, his hair presumably secured out of sight, as no strands are visible. He briefly glance at you before looking away, as though there is something he wishes to convey but is unable to express, or perhaps it is merely an illusion of your mind.
"It appears you are appropriately attired for the occasion. However, there remains one item missing," Prince Aemond states as he assesses your appearance from head to toe. While you do not fully comprehend his intent, you infer that this might be his way of offering a compliment.
"Pray, Your Highness, what am I lacking?" you inquire, your tone tinged with irritation, which is understandable given the discomfort of your previous night’s rest. Prince Aemond responds with a faint smile and proceeds to grasp your hands, binding them together with a rope. The unexpected nature of this action leaves you momentarily stunned, and he appears to take a certain satisfaction in ensuring the rope is fastened securely, rendering escape impossible.
“Now, you are tied to me,” Prince Aemond declares as he secures the other end of the rope to his own waist. You cast him an angry look, fully aware that this must be an act of retaliation for the previous night. After a deep, frustrated sigh, you accept your predicament, realizing that this journey with Prince Aemond will test your limits in every conceivable way.
#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#female reader#aemond targaryen#prince aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x female reader#hotd fanfic#vhagar#rhaenyra targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#alicent hightower#helaena targaryen#daemon targaryen#hotd cannibal#aemond targaryen x bastard targaryen#fem!bastard reader#jace velaryon#lucerys velaryon#syrax#caraxes#Spotify
132 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dangerous Gaze (the hunt)
- Summary: You meet Brandon Stark for the first time, and the dragon falls for the wolf.
- Pairing: targ!reader/Brandon Stark
- Note: These events happen before Robert's Rebellion.
- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)
- Previous part: 1
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround
The Kingswood is alive with the sounds of the hunt—hooves pounding the earth, the sharp barks of hounds, and the thrill of voices cutting through the trees. You feel the air buzzing with excitement, though perhaps it has less to do with the chase and more with the man riding alongside you.
Brandon Stark.
You’ve been placed ahead of the party, as is your custom, given leave to do as you please by a father who is often indulgent when it comes to his precious daughter. The courtiers and noblemen trail behind, their eyes ever watchful, but your father, King Aerys, lingers even farther back, surrounded by his guards and some of the less adventurous lords.
Brandon, however, matches your pace effortlessly. His wolfish grin never leaves his face as he steals glances at you, clearly enjoying the break from his father's stiffer company. You’re surprised at how easily you’ve fallen into conversation with him, though it feels less like conversation and more like a game.
“Does your father always hunt like this?” Brandon’s voice is casual, but there’s an edge of amusement.
You laugh, the sound ringing through the woods. “Only when he’s feeling generous. Other times, I think he enjoys watching his prey squirm more than the kill itself.”
Brandon chuckles, his grey eyes flicking over to you as you guide your horse between the thick trunks. “That sounds about right for a king.” He glances around, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “But I have to say, I didn’t expect a royal hunt to feel so...tame.”
You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Tame? You call this tame?”
Brandon leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I thought hunting with a Targaryen would be wilder. Maybe there’s more fire to come?”
There’s something about the way he says it, something that sends a shiver down your spine, as if he’s speaking of more than the hunt. And yet, you can’t help but feel the pull of it, the danger woven into his words.
You smile back at him, your heart beating just a little faster. “You’d be surprised at how wild things can get, Lord Stark.”
He grins, sharp and unrestrained, and for a moment, the space between you feels charged with something more than the chase, more than the thrill of the hunt. There’s something else here, something untamed, that neither of you seem willing to acknowledge outright.
Suddenly, a loud cry breaks through the trees—the sound of hounds catching the scent of something large. The horses shift beneath you, eager to run, and you meet Brandon’s gaze. Without a word, you urge your horse forward, and he follows, the two of you breaking from the main group.
The forest blurs around you as you race deeper into the Kingswood, the wind whipping at your hair. Brandon rides close, his focus entirely on you, as if he’s hunting more than just the quarry ahead. The thrill of it is intoxicating, and for the first time in a long while, you feel truly alive.
Ahead, you catch sight of the stag—the great prize of the hunt—darting through the trees, its massive antlers gleaming in the dappled sunlight. It’s magnificent, regal even, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is what your father sees in his own madness—this raw, untamed beauty.
Brandon pulls up beside you, his breath quick with exertion. “Shall we bring it down?” His eyes are alight with excitement, the wolf within him showing.
You pause, your gaze lingering on the stag as it bounds away. “Not yet,” you say softly. “Let it run a little longer.”
Brandon studies you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if he’s trying to understand something deeper, something beyond the hunt. But then, his face relaxes, and he nods, guiding his horse to match your pace once more.
“Do you ever think about what waits at the end of the chase?” he asks, his voice quiet now, almost contemplative. “The moment when the prey realizes it’s caught?”
You glance over at him, sensing the weight behind his question. “I suppose it depends on the hunter,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “And what kind of end they want.”
Brandon’s eyes darken, a flicker of something shadowing his features. “Some ends come whether we want them or not.”
You say nothing, but his words settle over you like a chill, a reminder of the world you both live in—where men like your father control fate with fire and blood, and where wolves from the North are never truly safe in the South. You feel it, too, the unspoken knowledge that lingers between you, that this—whatever is growing between you and Brandon—is as dangerous as the game you’re hunting.
But you’ve never been one to shy away from danger. Not when it calls to you as strongly as Brandon Stark does.
The two of you ride in silence for a time, letting the forest envelop you. The stag has long disappeared from view, but neither of you seem to care. There’s something more important than the hunt now, something unsaid, yet felt keenly between you.
At last, Brandon breaks the silence. “You’re different from what I expected,” he admits, his voice low and sincere. “I thought...I don’t know what I thought. But you surprise me.”
You smile at that, turning to face him fully. “And what did you expect? A simpering princess?”
Brandon’s laughter is rich, genuine, and it echoes through the trees. “Something like that,” he admits. “But no, you’re...much more than that.”
His words hang between you, heavy with meaning. And though you don’t speak it aloud, you feel it too—the pull, the undeniable connection that crackles like wildfire between you.
But fate, you know, is not always kind to wolves and dragons.
#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf x reader#asoif/got#asoiaf#game of thrones#got x you#got x reader#got x y/n#house of the dragon#fire and blood#brandon the wild wolf#brandon stark#brandon x reader#brandon x you#brandon x y/n#house stark#house targaryen
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
HorseNews-Kauto Star Novices' Chase Gr. I He is French and magnificent
#best horse racing prediction#best horse racing prediction website#free horse racing prediction software#horse racing computer predictions#horse racing expert predictions#horse racing forecast#horse racing forecast tips#horse racing forecasts daily#aqueduct horse racing analysis#expect horse races and events#expect horse races and results#expect horse races at the moment#expect horse races for today#expect horse races for tomorrow#expect horse races world#expect horse races worldwide#Horse racing articles#aqueduct horse racing#best binoculars for horse racing#fast horse racing results#horse racing photos#horse racing podcast#horse racing quotes#horse racing radio#replays of horse racing#top speed horse racing#american horse racing news#australia horse racing news today#breaking horse racing news#current horse racing news
1 note
·
View note
Note
sweetest heidi!! congrats on 1000 my lovely 🤍
can I request a main dish blind drabble?!
Pedro character: let’s gooooo Javier Peña or Jack Whiskey Daniels! chef’s choice 😉
numbers: 3 and 283
😘😘😘😘
losin’ you | jack ‘whiskey’ daniels
pairing: bull rider!jack daniels x barrel racer f!reader word count: 1287 content warnings: 18+ blog: some angst, reader and jack have history, some forgiveness but he has to work for it, reader has a rebound fling, reader rides a horse but no other physical descriptions, this is an AU, cursing, I think that’s it. notes: Kay! I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to this!!! I hope it was worth the wait 💕 Shoutout to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for a specific line (I won’t give away which one it is)
It’s not a world you think you’ll ever be used to. Roaring crowds and blinding lights accompanied by the adrenaline rush as you race against the clock doing what you love. It goes against the quiet life you dream of having on some land, miles outside of the bustling town and an even longer dirt road entrance to deter solicitors. But it pays the bills enough to get by for now.
Bouncing from rodeo to rodeo can be lonely, even with all the cheering from fans and their undying support. All in the name of making a living and a name for yourself with the hopes of becoming a champion barrel racer.
Tonight is a little different. Run after run chasing the fastest time. Arena dirt kicked up straight out the gate. Weaving around the three strategically placed barrels, all sharp turns and calculated verbal cues to carry you past the line. 13.58 seconds was all it took to secure the top place at the end of the event.
Instead of hiding out in your trailer with one of your two closest friends Bravo and Miller, who both happen to be a 15 hand Chestnut Quarter Horses, you allow yourself to revel in the celebration and enthusiasm fans are showering you with.
The vibrancy in the air is palpable after leaving Miller to rest up in your trailer. An effervescence pounding in your chest— all your self doubt and fears dissipating into a plume of contentment.
It’s a feat in itself meandering through rodeo dust and small crowds wanting pictures and messy signatures on your walk to pick up the grand prize shiny buckle and winner’s check, hoping to get on the road before the announcer calls the last event for the night.
The sight of a cowboy loading your tack and saddles in their proper compartments has you stopping in your tracks. Watching as he moves about with familiarity. Feeding Miller his favorite treats, already loaded and secured in his trailer stall. Bridles and lead ropes hung on their designated hooks. Gooseneck hitched into the bed of your old pickup truck.
Seemingly taking care of your long list of tasks effortlessly.
“Congratulations, Sweetheart.” He says as he latches the tack room closed, his hand giving it a good shake before turning to look at you.
“Jack—“ You’re sure he doesn’t miss the way your face almost lights up at the sight of him. Quickly controlling your expression to something a little more neutral despite wanting nothing more than to run into his arms.
“The boyfriend ain’t around is he?” His voice tempered as he took a look around, expecting a six foot something man to walk out of the shadows swinging.
“Benny? Why? You wanna compare buckles, see whose is bigger?” You snark at him, tossing your earnings in the front seat of your truck.
“Don’t wanna step on anyone’s boots if I’m not welcomed, is all.” Such a stark contrast from the man who would go toe to toe with anyone who so much as looked in your direction.
You roll your eyes as you stalk past him to open the small trailer window to allow Miller to hang his head out.
“No he ain’t around. Fell for some cute buckle bunny over in Austin. Besides— he wasn’t my boyfriend. Just a fun rebound, ya know since you broke my heart and all.” He can sense the hurt in your voice, looking to where you’re running your hand over Miller’s velvet nose
“Sweetheart, ‘M sorry.“ Jack says meekly looking to where his boot is dragging over the dirt, his tone barely audible with noise coming from the stadium cheering on the roping finals.
You know he isn’t referring to Benny and the whirlwind of a fling that he was. Seeing other people, serious or not, was part of the agreement. Benny Miller was a good time for a short time, long enough to keep you distracted from the way your heart ached for Jack.
“It’s fine. Besides, it got a little weird with his last being Miller, too. I was losing track of the amount of times he used the line ‘wanna take Miller out for a ride? And I don't mean your horse!’”
“That wasn’t what I was referring to Sweetheart and you know it. I was talkin’ about that night. I’m sorry—“ Oh, so this is a real apology. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him sound so defeated in all the years you’ve known him.
“Surprised you were able to get that big time ego of yours through the front gate. Now that you’ve got nothin’ holdin’ you back from all those sponsors and big money.”
You chance a look over to him, propped sheepishly against your trailer, hands tucked in his pockets, too ashamed to look at you directly as you call him out. Not sure how long you want to drag this out and tell him how much you’ve missed him.
“I came here to see you race. Watch you win big— jus’ like we always wanted.” He turns to meet your gaze.
“We? I think what we wanted were two very different things, Jack. I wanted to win big doing what I love with the man I love. You wanted— what was it you said that night ‘take a break a break so you could figure things out’ among the other shit that spilled from that stupid mouth of yours.” You throw his words back at him as you stomp the short distance to him, causing him to straighten up in preparation for more of your own words.
“I thought that’s what I wanted. Guess it took me losin’ you to realize I was wrong. I want you. More than the sponsors. More than the fame. I need you more than all of that shit combined, Baby.” He confesses sincerely.
The warmth of his touch has your knees nearly buckling when he brushes some dirt with his finger off your cheek.
“And so you thought you’d waltz your Mr. Professional Bull Ridin’ ass in here? Lookin’ all handsome wearin’ those blue tight jeans and my favorite denim jacket of yours. Hopin’ I would just take you back just like that?” You sound harsher than you intended to.
“Well, I didn’t even think I would make it this far. I was sure I’d already be staring at your tail lights by now.” He quips, giving you a glimpse at that lopsided smile of his you’ve missed more than you should.
You study him for a beat. Your eyes flitting across his face, each one of his beautiful features still as heart melting as always.
Against your better judgment you kiss him. His lips molding perfectly over your own. Like a puzzle you once had and misplaced. Now found and situated where it belongs.
“It’s gonna take more than an evening of groveling to get you outta the dog house— but it’s a start.” You flick the brim of his black felt hat, turning on your heels in the direction of the passenger side of the truck.
He’s amused by your candor. The tip of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, watching the way your hips sway a little more deliberately until you’ve reached the truck door.
“If I remember correctly, the 8 second ride time only applied to the arena?” Biting at your bottom lip at the remembrance of the way he took care of you in so many ways.
“Yes, ma’am!” His hat tipping with a slight nod.
“Well, this truck ain’t gonna drive itself home, Cowboy.” Giving him a wink as you hoist yourself into the cab, watching the dust kick up behind him as he sprints to the driver’s seat.
#agent jack whiskey daniels#jack daniels#jack whiskey daniels#pedro pascal#wildemaven writes#pedrostories
152 notes
·
View notes
Text
one random and irrelevant skill for each fellow:
Foreman is a very good baker and cook. He used to help his mother in the kitchen — she always liked to bake something to bring to church Sundays —and he found the precision that goes into baking relaxing and deeply satisfying. Sometimes he still will bake some cookies or a coffee cake from scratch, but he also finds this skill vaguely embarrassing and so has never shared the results or his ability with any of his coworkers.
Cameron was on the track team in high school and has run several 5ks. She's thought about training for a marathon, but she likes being able to not just run but go fast: the physical strength and skill of a marathon does appeal to her, but her event was always short distance sprints, going so fast you feel like you're flying. She does still make it a point to go running. She vaguely looks down on joggers, although she knows it's irrational.
Chase is pretty good at drawing. Like, not was going to art school good, he's never tried painting or picked up a set of pencils, but he'd draw all over his papers and tests growing up, he's got a good eye for sketching, has to put in effort not to doodle on his paperwork even now. It's really just one more way he fidgets.
Taub is a big reader. He is capable of reading and enjoying Literature, he likes nonfiction, he likes novels, he isn't just someone who says he likes to read but never really does, he actually does do it. He and his wife dipped in and out of book clubs over the years. He's capable of having very smart conversations about books and themes and narration. This never ever comes up at work.
13 is really good at video games. She's not even a huge gamer. She played with her brother growing up, she likes games, but she doesn't own a (checks dates) PS3 or anything. But she is uncannily good at fighting games, racing games, anything that involves reflexes and competition. She is unbeatable at Super Smash Bros, and competitive enough that she wants to kick everyone's ass at it. She finds RPGs and story-driven games interesting in theory and boring in practice. When she plays Sim City, she turns disaster intensity all the way up.
Kutner has an uncanny memory for TV shows and movies and trivia. He's a Fandom Nerd, although without the fandom. He remembers the details of things he watched years ago, he can and will argue character motivation and who portrayed what best. This does not really apply to doctor stuff. He struggles to keep the millions of diseases and progressions he's expected to know in diagnostics straight. But ask him the synopsis of an episode to a show he loves and he's there.
Adams is lowkey a Horse Girl. She had a horse growing up. She rode competitively. She is absolutely aware that bringing this up around House or Chase, who would tell House, or Taub, who would tell House, etc., would be absolute social suicide. She is saving up to buy not just a house, but one with a stable.
Park is really, really good at poker. All card games, really. She's played a lot with her grandmother and her old lady friends, and knows how to count cards, and is basically unbeatable and can rake in money. She'd give House a run for his, although she's a little 'over' it, since basically her entire childhood was spent playing cards and board games with her grandmother, who she loves and all, but, you know. Enough is a enough. She's also aware it's a useful hidden skill to have, in case she ever needs to take her boss to the cleaner's.
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
| Tarot Cards: Places they represent |
✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁𝟑𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥!▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩
Hey guys! Welcome back to another post ♡
We reached 300 followers! And I'm gonna do a special for you guys because I seriously am so grateful for all of your support. My blog has been growing so fast and I literally never expected to be where I am today. Thank you! ♡
This post will be a little different to my usual stuff. I was thinking I might start a series like this where I give some tips on how to read your tarot! I'll also include the sources I use at the end in case you wanted to check those out too.
Anyway, here is a list of places that the cards represent ♡
Sincerely,
Cassy the friendly ghost ♡
✦Masterlist ✦Paid Readings ✦Support me through Kofi
𓆩♡𓆪 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙍 𝘿𝙄𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏 50% 𝙊𝙁𝙁 !! 𓆩♡𓆪
Ends on September 22nd
| KO-FI SHOP |
| MAJOR ARCANA |
1. Magician - Kitchen, labatory, shows, music, magic, performances
2. High Priestess - Secret place, secret society, library, somewhere quiet, reading rooms, theatre, halls
3. Empress - Old/stately homes, old school building, old hospital building, boutique, beauty parlor, restaurants
4. Emperor - Royal palace, business establishments, schools, univerisity
5. Heirophant - Church, univeristy, temple, place of worship, corporate building
6. Lovers - Sweet shop, date locations, love hotel, honeymoon places
7. Chariot - Car ralley, racing fixtures, garages, horse racing, highway
8. Strength - Zoo, petting zoos, gym, fitness studios
9. Hermit - Cave, retreat centres, hill walking
10. Wheel - Ferris wheels, london eye, casino, lottery tickets, shops selling wheels
11. Justice - Court, arbitration offices, counselling institution, police department
12. Hanged Man - Bungee jumping, sky diving, thrilling activities
13. Death - Church yard, funeral parlor, butcher, cemetary
14. Temperance - Cocktail bar, queues, waiting rooms, chemist dispensary
15. Devil - Adult shops, clubs, casinos, brothel, strip clubs
16. Tower - Chop shops, tall buildings, skyscrapers, stormy areas, fire
17. Star - Water, ocean, river, stargazing
18. Moon - Nighttime, stargazing, movie, stage, theatre
19. Sun - Birth centre, midwifery unti, hospital, holidays, tanning booths, abroad
20. Judgement - Rehabilitation centres, church, treament centres, spa
21. World - Airport, flying, dance studios
| MINOR ARCANA |
☁︎ 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 ☁︎
Ace - Editor's room, skyscrapers, office, library, radio tower
Two - Statue of liberty, new york, seashore
Three - Hospital, rainy place, cloudy areas
Four - Bedroom, quiet places, funeral parlor
Five - Debate club, near water, themepark, competitive environments
Six - Boats, river, cruisers
Seven - Archery, secret location, casino, bomb shelter
Eight - Prison, therapy
Nine - Psychiatric hospital, confessional
Ten - Surgery room, accupuncture clinic, dentists
Page - Fraternity, rowdy places, sports arena
Knight - Windy places, windmills
Queen - Fenced off places, great walls, boundaries, spikes fences
King - Lawyers office
🕯 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 🕯
Ace - Workshop, construction site
Two - Balcony, overseas, historical travel, boat
Three - Seaside, boat travel
Four - Fastfood, cafe, outdoors, wedding, celebration
Five - Sport centre, pool game
Six - Market, downtown, show, event, someone/something noticable
Seven - Competitive/violent environment
Eight - Road trip, highway
Nine - Competitive environment, barrier, wall, bouncer, high security
Ten - Workplace, labour, sweatshop
Page - Disco, dance, party
Knight - Hot and dry place, bonfire, abroad, holiday
Queen - Social events
King - Active place, fast moving environments
꒦꒷ 𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒔 ꒷꒦
Ace - Lake, pond, birdbath, birds
Two - Luxury, home, common dating places
Three - Bar, pub, party
Four - Under a tree, graveyard
Five - A place of regret, place of bad memories, hospital, flooded areas, bridge, after party cleanup, alone in a bar
Six - Flourists, schoolyard, playground, nostalgic places
Seven - Highup places, views, drug suppliers, spots where people do drugs, drug shops
Eight - Bookstore, library, cave, quiet
Nine - Bar, party, pub, dinner, home
Ten - Family gatherings, park, outdoor, bbq party
Page - Aquariums, fish tanks, sea parks
Knight - Picnics, peaceful/romantic areas
Queen - Bathtub with cancles, home, skinny dipping, swimming
King - Beach, lake
˗ˏˋ 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒔 ˎˊ˗
Ace - Dispensary, bank, currency exchange centre
Two - Circus, arcade, carnival
Three - Fashion show runway, art gallery, boutique, museum
Four - Uncle scrooge's home, gold reserves, saferoom, secret hideout, vault
Five - The streets, people living in powerty, homeless spots,
Six - Pawn shops, currency exchange shops, trade stores
Seven - Nursery, orchard
Eight - workshop, construction site
Nine - Gardens, green parks
Ten - Market
Page - Field, farm, family business
Knight - Workplace, chores, school
Queen - Home, nursery room
King - Bank manager's office
♥Thank you for your support!♥
Dividers by @cafekitsune, @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Source
#tarot community#tarotblr#tarot cards#daily tarot#free tarot#tarot#tarot reader#tarot reading#tarot spread#tarot witch#tarotcommunity#tarot deck#divination#divination community#paid readings#pac readings#pac tarot#pick a card#pick a card reading#pick a picture#pick a pile#pick a photo#casper spills
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Broken Sort of Normal Part 2
WC: 757 CW: Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Doubt, Jack and Maddie Fenton's A+ Parenting Masterpost
Worse than— no, not worse than. Nothing was worse than being constantly forgotten by everyone he cared about. Nothing was worse than knowing he was only worth knowing when he’d died. An issue was that Danny still had the same need to protect people even without the ghosts attacks. Day in and day out Danny felt an aching hurt in his chest at not doing anything to help. Working as a receptionist at a slightly rundown construction firm wasn’t the worst job, but it felt like it was slowly killing him. It felt like his core was shriveling up.
Danny knew he needed to make a change. At a loss of what to do and short on options, Danny had enrolled in the paramedic course at the local community college. He excelled at it.
It turned out all those years of patching up his own wounds gave him a pretty good head start on his classmate. So good, in fact, that his instructor recommended him for a job in Central City when he graduated with honors. It was bittersweet to know that when he wasn’t constantly harnessed by ghosts, he could actually do really well at school.
His parents missed his graduation.
His move to the city was done alone (his rented u-haul filled with what he could cram into it) and with a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. It felt like a second death leaving the only home he had ever known behind.
It felt like relief.
(He didn’t know which was worse.)
Central City was better and worse than he expected. The constant noise rattled him until he got used to ways to combat it: earphones, white noise machines, a cheesy little indoor fountain. The anonymity soothed him— no one paid attention to him in the city. Slowly he carved out his place.
He was part of the city’s emergency response team. Their primary job was working to secure the city and her people during villain attacks. Secondary to that they did follow up with victims, held community events to spread awareness about everything from emergency prep to smoke detectors, and helped with rebuilding efforts.
It was rewarding work and Danny’s core sang for it.
It was a little exhausting to have to run right into a villain attack on his day off though. Good thing he always kept a mini kit in his bag. What sort of emergency response team member would he be if he didn’t listen to their own advice? It was a really nice little kit too— ultra compact but it contained gloves, pipettes of water, disinfectant, a range bandages, a suture kit, a snap light, and even a shock blanket. Danny added a few extra gloves to it too.
As he ran towards the sounds of disaster, Danny felt a brisk wind breeze past him— and then blow back again— as the Flash (one of them, Danny hadn’t been around long enough to tell them apart) backtracked.
“Kid—” Oh, it was the older one then. “—you should be heading the other way. Lummox is up ahead—”
“I know,” Danny snapped, not stopping moving. “I’m a field medic. I’m on my way to help, and you’re not going to stop me.”
The Flash seemed at a loss for what to say for half a beat. “Okay. Sure. Want a lift?”
“What?”
“I can get you in a second— literally— but I’m leaving you on the edge of it all.”
It would be convenient. And it’s not like he couldn’t trust Flash. Danny slowed to a stop and shrugged. “Sure, onward, Seabiscuit.”
“Who?”
“Famous race horse? Cause you’re going to carry me? Never mind. Just pick me up, dude.”
Danny ignored the look he got from the Flash and clung on for dear half-life. Fuck the Speed Force felt weird. He was pretty sure it was less than a second to get there, and Danny didn’t quite stick the landing, but he got his feet under him fast enough to rush in to help.
Eventually Danny required an extra vest from the team that came in and just blended into the background of other medics. It wasn’t a bad day— no lives lost and all the injuries were relatively minor. (He even got some overtime payment, which he wasn’t going to sneeze at). Danny figured it was just part of being in the city, occasionally running into villains and heroes even off the clock.
He didn’t expect it to really happen again.
(He should have known to never have expectations.)
-----
AN: Still moving along with this odd little thing! It's been fun to write a Danny in a very different place than my other fics- mentally and physically! Just to be clear btw- Danny is in a bad place at the start of this fic which is putting a negative light on how he's seeing things. Sam and Tucker just... moved on with their lives. Those sort of high school friends you liked a lot but drift away from. Without the history of ghost stuff to bind them, it was just part of life to them. Danny just has a different memory history so it hits harder for him/feels harsher.
Stay delightful, darlings!
Due to the new post editor and shadow banning, I'm no longer tagging people! To be notified, subscribe to this post:
629 notes
·
View notes