#got a sim who was sitting and talking to someone and i had them ask that sim to duel - spellcasters ya know

[giuseppe-yuki]

I just had a stupid thought, just imagine somwone maybe new at Mercedes was bitching at kimi and hia huge tiger girlfriend sitting behind them just waiting for them to finsih and everyone around them snickering

no thought is a stupid thought! i love to receive asks from readers :)

lord help the soul who thinks he’s “better” than kimi just because he’s older and has more “experience” in the field of racing.

kimi nods, trying to be be polite as the man in front of him elaborates on his skill and practice on the sim brig.

“…since i was literally a baby,” the engineer points out, exaggeratedly gesturing with his arms. “that’s why i know for a fact that you should not be turning like that on turn 4- you should take the outside line.”

scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, kimi blinks at the man in confusedly. “um…okay.”

your boyfriend swivels around on his chair in the garage, trying to end the conversation. however, being too polite to just walk away, he has no choice but to sit there, enduring the ‘words of wisdom’ from this newly hired engineer that everybody knew gave out the most bullshit advice. several long-term engineers shoot him looks of pity at their desks after seeing him trapped in the impractical conversation.

that’s why he brightens up like the sun peeking out behind a cloud when you flounce into the garage in the following moments, pressing a kiss onto his cheek when you reach him.

“hi kimi,” you giggle, ruffling his curls with your hand. “working hard?”

he smiles at you, nodding. “yep! i’m designing mercedes’ next championship winning car,” he jokes.

you laugh, before a voice behind you speaks up. “do you mind? i was just giving him tips on how to drive better out there. it’s simple, really.”

whipping around, you come face to face with a rather young looking lad, who you suppose to be the infamous new-hire that everyone despises.

“oh, sorry,” you say, not feeling sorry at all. “did i cut you off from your conversation with kimi?”

“yeah,” the engineer says, with an air of confidence around him. “i was informing him on the many things he should do better on next time on track. i’ll have you know i have years of experience.”

the gall of this man, you think. that’s no way to talk to my boyfriend.

and when you thought the engineer could be even more repulsive, he opens his mouth yet again.

“by the way, i don’t know how you even got in the garage, but fans are supposed to stay in the paddock,” he sniffs, as if repulsed by the thought of a random kimi enthusiast in the mercedes garage.

even the nearby merc employees raise an eyebrow to the overly-cocky engineer’s comment. it was pretty much common knowledge of your position as kimi’s girlfriend in the paddock, showing up to nearly every event to support him. besides, you literally just gave your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek- a fan couldn’t have possibly done that.

your boyfriend jumps off of his seat, ready to defend you.

“hey! this is my-“ he begins, but you cut him off, squeezing his arm gently.

“really?” you gasp, eyes wide with faux surprise. “i am so sorry! i just wanted a signature from kimi- i had no idea!”

giving you a look of disgust, the engineer gestures behind him towards the exit. “yeah, yeah, dumb mistake, whatever,- just go that way, and make sure to read the signs next time.”

ignoring kimi’s look of surprise and the snickers of knowing engineers, you take your leave from the garage. behind you, you hear the engineer snort. “eugh, fans these days…always so overeager to meet their idols, am i right?”

yeah, someone should really stop you before you bit his head off.

you pad back into the garage several minutes later, in your tiger form. you had to teach this stupid guy a lesson. gingerly stepping around tires and spare parts, you weave your way through groups of merc employees and engineers. of course, being used to your presence, they give you a few pets on your head.

you hear the engineer’s voice before you see him.

“i also want to say, your tyre management is- how do i put this nicely- horrible.”

turning the corner, you spot a miserable looking kimi picking at his fingernails as he half-listens to the arrogant man in front of him.

at the sight of your aggressive figure- a total 180 from your usual shyer demeanor, the employees surveying the scene start to quietly snicker again.

hearing the laughs, the engineers mistakenly believes that they are laughing with him instead of at him.

“see, even they agree with me,” he chuckles at kimi. “you really should be working on managing your tires on track.”

unable to take it anymore, you sprint towards kimi, purposely nudging the engineer’s chair, knocking it off balance by a little. you nudge your large head underneath kimi’s hand, demanding pets.

the egotistic engineer yelps, almost falling off the tall stool. somehow being the only one not having seen kimi’s ’pet tiger’ before, he stutters out, “a-a-a- tiger!” before fleeing to the opposite of the garage.

you growl at him, purposely flashing your sharp canines at him. it makes you feel smug when he shrinks back even more, cowering behind a spare tire.

kimi rolls his eyes at the man’s extreme reaction. “maybe,” he says pointedly to the engineer while stroking your fur, “instead of you giving me pointers on how to do my literal job, i should be giving you pointers how to control your emotions. like, what are you so scared of? it’s just a tiger!”

when you roar again at the engineer to emphasize kimi’s point, you are pretty sure the engineer nearly pees himself.

[vivalasthedas]

nothing will make you realize how broken, and how bad, the sims 4 gameplay is quicker than trying to play the sims 4 without mods.

[thelostconsultant]

Not a gold digger

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Fans think you only want Max's money. But as it turns out, you were wealthy before he came into your life--you just don't make it obvious.

warnings: No smut, but there's a part that makes me say MDNI.

note: So... I'm kinda back? Idk, I'll see if I'll stick around.

The toxicity of the fandom was becoming quite entertaining, really. It was the third time since you and Max had made your relationship public half a year ago that someone started an anti gold digger campaign to protect your boyfriend. They truly believed they were doing this for a greater good, and they all begged Max for his attention.

It always began after they sniffed out he had given you something expensive as a gift or took you shopping to a luxury boutique. While there were some people who tried to protect you by pointing out that maybe he enjoyed showering you with gifts, the rest didn't care about that. 

You lived in a small apartment back home, you were driving a five years old Renault SUV, and no one knew what you did for a living. This was enough to enrage them and make them believe all you wanted was Max's money at the end of the day. Just think about the way she's looking at him, one of them wrote about two months ago, she's so clearly not in love with him. Poor Max, someone please save him. 

Ridiculous.

“Is everything okay?” he asked when he got home and kissed the top of your head. 

You were sitting in his sim rig, using the time while it was free to practice, because you wanted to play with him when you weren't here together, and he was more than happy to show you the basics. “Someone started another campaign to cancel me,” you replied casually as you got out with his help. 

Even when you were standing in front of him, he didn't let go of your hand, instead he raised it to his lips to place a soft kiss on its back. “Gold digging?” You nodded with a sad look on your face, but less than five seconds later you were both laughing. “Look, I know you're having way too much fun with this, but–”

Without waiting for him to finish, you raised your hand to make him stop. “I'm not stepping out of the shadows, Max. I've been hiding for years, even fucking Forbes doesn't know my real name or face,” you told him.

Back in the old days, when Bitcoin appeared, your geeky uncle had gotten into mining and trading it. He knew the potential, so he put most of his savings into buying them, then he held onto them, and by the time he got sick years later, he knew they were valuable and would be worth a lot more in the upcoming years. In his will, he left his savings and his wallet to you, giving you the chance to use them as you wished since you had learned everything about crypto from him.

So now you had Bitcoin as well as old fashioned investments, and you had used your money to help out an up-and-coming tech company for a forty percent share, and it was later sold to a tech giant for a lot of money. But despite your wealth, you chose to stay under the radar, because you loved your small apartment, and you weren't about to trade it for some fancy penthouse. 

You had met Max the year before in Las Vegas. F1 was a sport you watched with your uncle while he was still alive, and you were hell-bent on getting a VIP pass for the weekend. If you asked your boyfriend, he would say it was love at first sight, but in reality he was just annoyed by you. For a solid ten seconds, he would correct you every time you talked about it.

You agreed that you would hide in Max's apartment until this latest campaign died down, which gave you some time to spend together in peace. Every now and then you checked the tags to see how things were going, and after the silence of the past few days, today your name was trending again. Ready to have a good laugh, you opened the tag, but the most popular post gave you a minor stroke.

“Oh, fuck me,” you yelled as you launched your phone into the couch.

Max pulled the headset down to his neck as he looked over at you. “Is everything okay?” You raised your finger to your lips as if you wanted him to stay quiet, but luckily he got the message. “I'm muted. So?”

You grabbed your phone and went over to him. “They know. One of those idiots from the company I helped back in the day posted a tweet to protect me, saying that if it wasn't for me being an angel investor, they wouldn't be millionaires now,” you summarized as you gave him the device.

He scrolled through a series of tweets, and found a post from a journalist of Forbes in which he promised a proper investigative piece based on this info. He handed you the phone, then wrapped an arm around your waist. “It's okay, schatje. I know that's not what you wanted, but maybe they'll stop with the recurring hate campaign now,” he tried. “And if you’re worried about the article… Don’t be. There is nothing compromising about you. Yes, you inherited the money, but you have proven you know what to do with it.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you admitted with a sigh. 

“I’m usually right. C’mere,” he said as he reached out to pull you closer, but you glanced over at the camera. Rolling his eyes, he quickly turned it off, then gave you an expectant look. “Will you hug me now? And I want a kiss too.”

With a laugh, you leaned down to wrap your arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss. But he wanted more, his hand slowly sneaked under your shorts, his fingers running over your clothed cunt before he decided to pull your panties aside and dip a finger between your folds. You moaned into the kiss, but he pulled away a second later to lick his finger clean. 

Shaking your head with a chuckle, you patted his shoulder and walked back to the couch. You could feel Max’s eyes on you the whole time, and when you looked at him again, he flashed a devilish smile at you. “I should quit the stream. Now that I had a taste, I want more,” he told you. 

“I’m not going anywhere, just try to be patient.”

He looked back at the screen, then put the headset back on his head and unmuted his mic. “Sorry, I have to go. See you next time,” he told the others, then logged out. You couldn’t remember the last time he left the sim rig this fast, and only a few seconds later he was kneeling in front of you, eagerly reaching up to pull your shorts off you.

liked by user1, user2 and 947,896 others

f1gossips: Breaking news! Turns out Max Verstappen's girlfriend isn't a gold digger after all as she has her own fortune according to the investigative article published by Forbes. Will the fans apologize?

view all comments

user2: And here I was, thinking she's just a greedy airhead...

user3: Easy to be wealthy with your uncle's money.

↳ user4: Have you read the whole thing? She invested the money and helped out several startups--that later became pretty successful--as an angel investor. Yes, maybe she inherited a lot of money, but she knows what to do with it.

↳ user5: May I remind you how many F1 drivers started their careers with their families's money?

user6: Told you she wasn't a gold digger. Suck it, haters.

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,577,353 others

maxverstappen1: If you don't buy your girlfriend gifts every once in a while, you're a bad boyfriend. I love to spoil her, it's not a crime. I love her, I'm proud of her, and you can send us as much hate as you want, it will only make us stronger.

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername: I'd be perfectly fine without the gifts, I already told you.

↳ maxverstappen1: I don't care.

landonorris: You're absolutely right!

↳ maxverstappen1: You're single, how would you know?

↳ landonorris: Just FYI, I've been in relationships before.

danielricciardo: You're so disgustingly smitten with her. (I love you both.)

[peachesofteal]

Leave

Part two the Sassy Series but can be read as a standalone.

Simon Riley/female reader 3.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Angst, PTSD, canon typical violence, bombs, blood and injury. Smut, oral sex - fem receiving, praise kink, creampie. Unplanned pregnancy. Everyone is bad at feelings. He's like a bomb. Note: This was never posted to Tumblr, so in honor of the series and to complete the masterlist I decided to clean it up a bit and bring it over here.

The truck is a silent tomb.

Rigid, hard lines of muscle hold themselves still without quiver, eyes darting from the road to the floor, hands to feet. No one speaks. Soap’s fingers tap restlessly on his leg, and occasionally, he peeks around before refocusing his vision on something in the distance, something you’re not even sure exists.

The only one really looking at anyone, is Ghost. He’s staring daggers at you in the rearview mirror, fire blazing in his irises, heat so intense it forces your head down towards your knees. Even Gaz looks away from you now, occasionally nudging his thigh against your own, but keeping his gaze fixed out the window.

You’re fucked.

Simon explodes as soon as you’re all unloaded inside the gates. He detonates like a bomb, raw fury rippling through the air, impact radius large enough that it sends nearly everyone else scurrying. “Sass.” Your call sign is rough on his lips. He motions for you to step away, forcing you out from where you’re lurking close to Soap, rage, and something else, something secret, simmering beneath the surface, something you barely glean a glimpse of when he towers over you.

“Ghost. Listen-“ you hiss, fingers flying to push his hulking body away, anger boiling in your blood. He scoffs, like you’re so easily dismissed. Like you’re a child.

“You’re losin’ it Sass. I don’t know, and I don’t care how you used to operate, but we don’t pull shit like that in the 141.”

“Fuck you, Sim-“

“Don’t use my name right now.” The paint around his eyes is cracked, revealing small swaths of skin, the crinkle of crow’s feet. “You had no idea what you were doing out there!” He yells, and you snap backwards instinctively. “You were operating blind, like a fuckin’ idiot. Cap, and everyone else, seems to think you’re a world class operator but today all I saw was stupidity. Are you stupid, Sass?” His raised voice has captured Soap’s attention, who drifts closer and closer to where the two of stand. “I asked you a question.” Ghost snaps, and you want to melt into the ground.

“No.” you whisper. It’s too much. This is too much. 

“Then why would you do something like that?” He snarls, and you shy away. You’ve never seen him like this. You’ve seen him ruthless, cold blooded, laser focused on target. You’ve watched him shove a pistol in another man’s eye socket and pull the trigger, torture someone, and in the same breath, turn around and save a child from a burning building.

But you’ve never seen this. Gunpowder and rage. Metal and carnage.

You’re about to ask him what the hell his problem is when Soap steps between you both, hand out towards Ghost like he’s trying to gentle a scared animal.

“Take it easy, LT.” You use the distraction to make your escape before he can see the tears that are trying slip down your face.

Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. 

“D’ye wan’ talk about it?” Soap sits with a thud next you, soft blue eyes shining in the setting sun.

“I think you got the gist.”

“LT can be kind of intense, but don’t take it personally.”

Don’t take it personally. 

Don’t take it personally that last week he was shoving his cock down your throat, telling you how good you were. 

Don’t take it personally that last week, when you woke up sweating and shaking, he pressed his face to yours with a whisper. “Just a nightmare Sass, I’ve got you.”

Don’t take it personally, that five, six months ago in Belize, he was screaming in a field medic’s face, promising to hurt them if you died. 

Don’t take it personally. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He shrugs, slapping you on the back playfully.

“Get some sleep, lass.” Across the gap between two tents, Price and Ghost stand with their arms crossed, murmured words drifting on the wind.

Price glances at you. His mouth moves. Ghost nods, and then leaves.

Great. 

A day passes, then another.

Then a week, then two.

Ghost- Simon, vanishes from your life. Evacuates whenever he sees you coming. At first, you tried to run him down, tried to corner him, get him to talk to you, but he’s too smart, applying his tactical prowess to his new mission: avoiding you at all costs.

One day, you catch sight of his retreating back around a corner and sprint after him, calling his name, not his call sign.

He ignores you.

He’s not Simon anymore, at least not to you. He’s Ghost.

You give up. You have enough sense to know when you’re not wanted.

“Sassafrass!” Johnny gleefully calls out as you duck into the ten for the briefing. Ghost tenses like he’s just stepped on a landmine, but you roll your eyes. Dickhead. You position yourself as far away from him as possible, just to the right of Soap, out of view.

He doesn’t even look at you anymore, anyway. Not like it matters. 

“It’s an easy extraction, get in, grab the target, get out. Don’t over complicate it.” You nod your understanding, and Price gives you a smile. “Sassy, you and Soap will tackle the southeast side of the building from the back door. Gaz and Ghost will come through north. We’ll meet in the middle.” Again, you nod, and Soap grins at you like a goofy faced teenager. “Alright. Let’s load up.” You shimmy your backpack high above your hips and roll your shoulders, partially listening to your partner’s excited, halfcocked thesis on entry tactics.

It's the behavior that catches your attention. The guy looks nervous, skin gleaming with the sickly sheen of anxious sweat, tense and poised, like he’s waiting for something.

You’ve seen it before. Too many times.

“Soap.” You whisper. Your tone is dead serious, and he turns with a question in his eye.

“What’s got ye spooked?” Your gaze flicks over to the guy you’ve flagged. You shake your head, just as your target is swinging his backpack around and unzipping the top pouch.

You try to warn Soap.

You press your comm and try to tell the 141.

You manage to do neither before the world explodes.

Your eyes open to pandemonium. People are screaming. Kids are crying. You can hardly see, debris and smoke from the explosion making your eyes water and practically blotting out the sun.

There’s blood on your face.

Everyone is scattered. The screaming echoes around you, mirroring the screaming in your mind.

Where are you? 

Your comm’s been knocked loose. Your gun is gone.

Your body is not your own. It’s acting on instinct. Fight. Flight. Push. Pull.

It shoves everything down. Everything your brain can’t compartmentalize right now gets locked away in a dark place. You can feel it all, later.

Right now, you have to survive.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Soap yells over the noise, snapping you out of autopilot. He’s somewhere behind you, sense of relief making you dizzy when you turn and see him crouched next to a large chunk of concrete. Thank fuck.

“Johnny? Shit.”

“Yeah. Shite. What was that?”

“A bomb.” You say, dryly. He gives you a dirt look.

“We’ve gotta split, lass.” The ground has a unique dirt pattern to it. The grains are all a different size, different shades of reds, greys, brown. Where are you? They work together, forming a chaotic design, one blanket of earth, dust and dirt swirling together and- where are you, where are you, where- “Sassy!” Soap’s face careens into your point of view. It looks distorted. You jerk backwards, the quick movement making your head spin. “You okay?”

“Where are we?” The words stick to the roof of your mouth. He gives you an odd look.

“Hey, Sassy. You alright?”

“I’m good. Yeah. All good.” A pause. A deep breath. A denial. “You got comms?”

“Negative.”

“Great.”

Johnny is bleeding. You didn’t notice right away, but the crimson stain spreads under his shirt near his hip, and your panic returns, ice slowly spreading through your veins, threatening to freeze you where you stand.

“You’re hurt.” You pat his shoulder, and he nods.

“We’ve got to find the others. Or the truck.”

You can’t find the god damn truck. You have no comms. No guns, only your combat knife and two grenades between the two of you, and Soap is actively bleeding.

It looks bad.

It feels even worse.

“Maybe we should just sit tight.” He grunts, and you startle.

“Yeah. Yeah, Johnny. Let’s just sit here, in the middle of active territory, with no comms, no guns, in the middle of the street. When you’re fucking bleeding out from your gut.” You snap. Confusion flickers across his face. You never snap at him. Gaz? Maybe. Ghost, yeah. Even Price sometimes. But never Johnny. “Sorry. Sorry, Soap. My head is still spinning from the blast.”

“It’s alright, lass.” His voice is calm, smooth. You can feel him watching you from the corner of your eye before he straightens, head turning the other direction. “There’s a hostel, a few clicks down the road. Want to give it a go? They probably have a phone.” You look at him, and then down the length of your own body, tallying and subtracting, plus or minus the odds.

Fuck it. 

It’s not very far, but it feels like a full days’ walk. Your head is still buzzing, proximity to the blast too close, too much, too familiar. It’s scrambled your brain, and you find yourself trying to focus on the back of Soap’s head, breathing through your nose. One foot in front of the other.

Somewhere, a block or two away, a car backfires.

Your muscles flex, and you flatten against the side of the building. Soap is talking to you, but you’re immobile, and you can’t hear him. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Something kickstarts in the back of your brain and your feet move. You give him a nod.

The woman behind the desk is terrified of you. Her eyes go round when you approach, gesturing to the phone, and she hands it over immediately, nervously looking between you and Soap, who’s slumped over in a plastic chair, bleeding.

You dial the number you know by heart without pause.

Soap is leaning against you when the truck roars around the corner, dust fogging the air beneath its wheels. He’s doing alright, your rudimentary medical skills coming in clutch when you decided to pack his wound as you waited, and the woman at the desk kindly gave you some towels for pressure. You flag them down, Price white knuckled behind the wheel, familiar skull mask in the seat next to him.

Your heart sinks.

He’s going to kill you.

When he jumps from the passenger seat, he looks anything but angry. His eyes are frantic behind the mask, wide and darting from you to Soap, pulling him from your side into his as you get closer.

“Johnny.” He says gruffly, and Soap cracks a smile.

“S’all good, Sassafrass patched me up.” He groans, and Ghost loads him into the backseat, sliding in beside him as you take the spot up front.

You’re numb. Price is asking you questions, and you’re answering as best you can, surprised when he seems satisfied after the play the play. He even says you’ve done well, the praise from your captain warming a little spot in your cold body. You nod robotically, shallow smile on your face, and check on Soap in the rear-view mirror, relieved that he’s got good color in his cheeks, still breathing.

You catch Ghost’s eyes in the reflection. They burn into you from behind the mask, pulling you apart to see inside. He doesn’t blink, and you turn away, uneasy.

You stumble away from everyone after you give Johnny a pat on the head. He’s still smiling, and squeezes your hand affectionately, medical team carting him away to receive actual care.

He’s fine. We got here in time. 

You’re staring at the blood in the sink when someone tries the door handle. After it doesn’t budge, a heavy fist thumps against the thin plywood.

“Someone’s in here.” You croak. The fist bangs again, and you sigh, swinging it open to tell whoever it is to go away.

Except, it’s Ghost standing on the other side.

“Fuck off.” The bewildered words come easily, and his eyes narrow. He shoulders through the door, slamming it shut, large hands gripping onto your shoulders and then tugging you into chest, heavy arms pressing you so tight into him that you’re having trouble breathing.

Your heart flips over.

He holds you, in silence, for a moment that feels like a decade. The balaclava scuffs along the top of your head, and he steps back, still clutching you by the arms, looking you up and down.

“Where are you hurt?” He shifts, thumb stroking a tender spot above your temple where you have a scratch, pulling the wet cloth in your grip free and dabbing it to the side of your head gently. 

“N-no. I’m not. Just Soap. I’m fine.”

“Good. That’s… that’s good.” You stare like he’s grown two heads.

“Ghost.” You’re cautious, unsure. Confused. You don’t know what’s happening, why he’s standing in the bathroom, caressing your face, helping you clean up. He holds the cloth under the tap, bringing it back up to your cheek. “Ghost.” You try again. Nothing. Finally, you try; “Simon.”

His hand stops moving. He’s as still as marble in the bathroom, lungs frozen in his chest.

He’s looking into your eyes with a long, dizzying gaze that has your own stunned wide, unable to blink, unable to look away.

Until he lunges for you.

He snatches you by the waist, dragging you out the bathroom and hoisting you over his shoulder. You yelp. “Simon, what the fu-“

“Hush.” He swats your ass like you’re a petulant child, beelining for your tent.

Sometime in the night, when the base is somewhat quiet and the lamp light has dimmed, he folds you in half on the threadbare mattress, pressing your legs back towards your ear, eyes trained on where your cunt flutters for him, clenching around nothing as you wriggle and try to press your thighs together for friction.

“None of that. Be good.” He admonishes.

“Simon. Please.” You’re not too proud to beg in this moment, that’s what nearly dying will do to you. You need him.

He sinks to his knees, still framed between your legs, and rolls the bottom of the balaclava to his nose.

It’s the first time you’ve ever really seen the skin on his face in such a large amount. No paint. No skull. No black cloth. Just his jaw, broad and sharp. His lips, full and wet, flash of tongue darting out from behind his teeth, mouth hot against your pussy, thumbs spreading you open to have his fill.

“There she is.” He murmurs, lips on your clit like a lover’s kiss. His tongue seeks your swollen nub under its hood, and it’s so much, warmth of your body, his face, all of it melting into your skin. Your heel pushes against the mattress as you rock your hips up into his mouth and he chuckles, a hand pressing down on your lower belly. “You taste good, Sass.” You clench, twitching, getting close, orgasm barreling through your nerves, body moving in tandem with each swipe of his tongue, muscles seizing-

He pulls away, hand wiping his face and rocking backwards on his knees.

“What the fuck?” You screech, propping yourself up on your elbows. He’s loosening his belt, and you can’t resist reaching, wrapping your fingers around the throbbing length of his cock. He snatches your hand away, holding you by your wrist and bending you back down, laying his weight on top of you and pushing inside your cunt with a single thrust. It’s been months, yet your body yields to him immediately, aching burn fizzling out as your walls flutter and you whine.

“My girl.” He moans, fucking into you like a man starved. “My good girl.” You stutter out a response, some jumbled nonsense that sounds like his name, sounds like Simon. “My sweet girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it.” He rears back, pulling your leg to his shoulder, foot dangling next to his ear.

“Fuck, Simon. Don’t- don’t stop please-“ His thumb continues in a circle on your clit, pleasure shooting through your muscles.

“Are you going to come?” you nod furiously, eyes clenched shut. “Look at me.” He bears down on you, gripping your face, and you find his usual guarded gaze nowhere, nothing between the two of you, just two raw currents slamming against one another they’re sparking. You can’t look away.

He thumbs your clits hard, giving you more as he thrusts, rising crescendo forcing insane noises from your mouth, sounds you don’t even recognize, gasping as your orgasm rolls over you like you’ve been hit by a truck. You tighten around him like a vice, and he swears, burying himself deep, walls pulsing around him, pulling his orgasm into you with ease.

You both slips into uneasy sleep, his body wrapped around yours so tight it almost hurts. Your dreams are broken, shattered fragments of bombs from past and present; voices screaming, friends pleading. You scream, pain and fear scratching under your skull, an attack, and bombardment you didn’t see coming. He holds you, soothes you, kisses you, still tense, coiled, ready to spring if need be.

“I got you, Sass. I’m here.” His voice is soft in the dark, fingers smoothing the sweat dampened skin of your face. “I’ve got you.”

Two days later, he rips the rug right out from under your feet.

“What the FUCK is this?” you brandish the stack of papers in your hands at Simon, who sits calmly in the corner of the tent. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t acknowledge your shrieking, your voice reaching frantic pitches of incredulity.

“Can’t have you here.” He says simply, like that’s all the explanation that’s needed. You’re vibrating, rattling with fury, with fear.

“You reported an intimate relationship with Price, to get rid of me?” His eyes narrow behind the mask, but he doesn’t deny you. “Oh my fucking god, Simon.” You laugh, and it’s sour, spoiled. Rotten, like the sickness that’s turning your stomach. This has to be a joke.

“I can’t have you here.” He repeats himself like a broken record, before he’s on his feet and heading for the exit.

“Simon!” You hiss at his retreat, but it’s far too late. It’s too late for all of this. He’s already gone.

He doesn’t come to say goodbye. Johnny shuffles out to the airfield to give you a hug, Gaz and Price with him. Betrayal burns the back of your eyelids as you shake hands with your captain, and he gives you a knowing look. A sad look.

When the helicopter banks over the tents, you see the black spot of someone standing outside, face turned up to the sky, and you stare at the white and black skull until it disappears from view completely.

You’re restless.

Your house is a skeleton, the walls of the rooms empty, silence so loud you swear you can feel it reverberating in the floors. You were technically on leave, but available for transfer, even though you hadn’t put in for anything, and hadn’t put any feelers out for private sector either. There was something glitching in your brain. Something serious after that last explosion. The whispers of self-doubt echo in your mind. You were off after that bomb, there’s no denying it.

You’ve tried to cleanse yourself of it. Of him. Of everything. You stand under the spray of the shower and scrub your skin until it hurts, letting the bathroom become so thick with steam it’s hard to see. It’s the only thing that relaxes you. It’s the only place that feels quiet.

It’s three weeks later when you start to get sick. At first, you think it’s a bug and expect it to pass. You have a hard time keeping anything down, your stomach sending food and water right back up your throat, forcing you to sip electrolytes throughout the day to keep from crashing.

When four days of the same turn into five, and then six, and then a week, you start to get nervous. You start to do the math.

That’s how you end up in the drugstore, staring at the selection of pregnancy tests. Just to rule it out. You tell yourself. There is no way you’re pregnant. You were good with your pills. You rarely ever missed one. Better safe than sorry.

The test glares at you, fully aware of much an affront it is.

“This can’t be happening.” You whisper to yourself in the mirror. “This isn’t right.” Fear ricochets up your spine.

Fuck. Simon. 

[curiousgworge]

꒰‧⁺ Casual *ೃ༄

*ೃ summary: where your relationship with Jake is a 'no attachments' one

pairings: jake x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: angst, some suggestive mentions, reader is Jay's little sister

Jake Sim was known around school for a range of different stuff: his abilities in soccer, his disponibility to tutor people in Math, his great looks and even greater personality and, most importantly, his inability to have one night stands and casual flings. 

Despite being very popular among the ladies, Jake was never one to sleep around. First of all, ‘cause he considered himself a gentleman and he couldn’t really fathom the idea of one night stands. Secondly, he cherished the intimacy of knowing and loving someone more than the physical aspect of his possible relationships. 

But against all that and his better judgment, Jake Sim found himself having a casual friends-with-benefits relationship with you. 

And it's not like he didn’t know what he was getting into when you first caught his attention. You were Jay’s little sister, who he always warned his friends was off limits: not only was he acting like the protective older brother, but also ‘cause he was afraid of needing to pick sides if things didn’t work. 

It all began in one of the many sleepovers he had with your brother and their other friends, when it was so late it was almost morning and all of the guys were scattered in mattresses in the middle of the living room and Jake went to the kitchen to get a cup of water. And even though it was your house too, he wasn’t expecting to find you sitting on the counter with a bowl of cereal, dressed only in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of fluffy socks.

Jake didn’t really expect you to ask him if he wanted cereal too, or for him to say yes, but then he found himself sitting by your side, eating and talking in a low volume not to wake up the guys. He didn’t expect to end up kissing you in the middle of the kitchen, his hands holding your face as you stood in front of him, his legs dangling from the counter he was still sitting on. 

He also didn’t expect to be caught by Heesung leaving your room in the morning, but still, there he was. What he did expect though was the face and scoff he received from him when Jake said that it was only a one time thing. 

But it didn’t take long for Jake to see that it wasn’t in fact a one time thing. It barely took a whole week in reality, as he had to work on a few group assignments from a class he shared with Jay. 

As your brother left the house to buy food for both of them, you left your room to greet Jake. At least that’s what you said when you straddled him and kissed him, making him a breathless blushing mess under you. It’s not like you had a lot of time, but it was enough to convince him to accompany you upstairs so you could help him with the raging boner he got from having you on top of him; and enough for Jay not to suspect a thing when he came back with chicken wings and lamen for them. 

And as weeks went by, Jake gave up on keeping count of how many kisses he shared with you and how many times he ended up on your bed when he really shouldn’t. It also became harder to hide what was happening from Jay, as Jake couldn’t really hide the way his eyes would follow you every time you moved, or how smily he became whenever you gave him an ounce of attention, or even how much of a coincidence it was that both you seemed to have hickeys around the same time period. 

So to say that he was shocked that Jay already knew everything was an understatement. Jake had spent a whole lot of time overthinking that conversation with your brother, planning what to say and how to run away if Jay wanted to punch him in the face, only for him to keep an uninterested face and say he knew. 

-My sister told me when I found one of your sweatshirts in her room last week. 

-And you’re not like, mad?

-Not at you bro, but at her? Totally. I told her not to fuck around with my friends, especially for her ‘no strings attached’ bullshit. 

And as relieved as Jake was that Jay was not going to kill him, something in what he said rubbed him in the wrong way, but he couldn’t really understand why. Was it the way that Jay looked at him, pity in his eyes? Was it the fact that, despite all the nights you spent laying naked by his side and talking about everything and nothing with him, you still considered your relationship just ‘casual’?

Maybe it was the way that, on the next sleepover the guys had, you came home laughing and holding hands with another guy. You froze on your tracks upon seeing your brother and his friends in the living room, and you blushed when you looked in Jake’s eyes. Or the way you apologized to the guy you were with, saying how you didn’t know your brother would have friends over, just for him to smile and say that it was fine and his roommate wasn’t home, and you left with him again. 

And Jake felt like shit when all his friends' eyes turned to him, worry stamped on their faces. But he forced a smile, grabbed one of the controllers and told his friends he was fine, despite none of them believing. 

-We’re just casual guys.

But he felt sort of grateful the next morning, when you were already back home and Jay thought the guys were still asleep in the living room and he could hear your brother scolding you about what happened. He just pretended to sleep when Jay came back and laid back on his mattress, his soft snoring soon being heard. And that was the moment you left your bedroom, as Jake could hear your steps and feel your eyes on him. 

-I know you’re awake Jake. Can we talk?

That’s how Jake ended up in your bed pounding on you, his mouth on yours to keep you as quiet as possible under him. He didn’t really pay attention to your apologies about last night, too focused on showing you that this casual thing you had would always be better than whatever other guys could do to you. He had to bite his tongue not to ask if it was worth it, if that guy could make you feel better than Jake could, settling for marking your body and watching as your eyes rolled and your body squirmed under his touch. 

 It was hard to ignore the way his friends looked at him when he left your room, a mix of disappointment and concern, and as he could still feel the way your body fitted on his hand and your taste on his tongue, he hoped that if he lied to his friends enough, he could convince himself too. 

-Don’t worry guys, I’m fine. It’s all casual. 

[ririsdelusionalcorner]

Idia with a cosplayer SO

How did it start (Idia):

○We all know how invested Idia is when it comes to the series he enjoys so it would only be natural that he followed accounts that post content for those series.

○He most likely found his future SO account due to this fact. They were cosplaying a more niche series that he had been hyperfocused on so he had never hit the follow button faster.

○This would have spiraled into him becoming one of their biggest supporters. Always interacting with posts, sending anonymous messages, going to fan meets mostly digitally but sometimes in person when he was brave enough

○I would say he'd even have either drawn fanart for them, or made some type of merch, we'll say a Keychain in this case to give to them during the one time he was brave enough to go to a fan meeting in person.

How did it evolve:

○Imagine Idia's shock finding out his favorite cosplayer was attending NRC and is in the same dorm as him. When he's the Housewarden!

○Idia almost thought it was his eyes tricking him but the sight of a familiar Keychain used as a phone charm made him realize it was real.

○Was Idia going to approach them? Absolutely not, but to his horror delight they ended up joining the board gaming club.

○Things were made worse when they recognized him. How is someone supposed to react when their favorite cosplayer remembers them. Idia almost short circuited that's for sure.

○Idia didn't pursue a friendship with them but they pursued one with him.

○Idia almost thought he was living in a dating Sim at this point. And he was the capture target. His future SO was relentless. Always going to his dorm, dragging him out when they weren't busy with class, building a friendship with Ortho, working on their cosplans in his dorm, listening when he talked about his interests/sharing their own. Anything and everything they could do they did.

○And eventually one day they approached him with a request. They wanted him to cosplay with them for their next event....that is cosplay a couple. To say Idia.exe stopped working was an understatement. He tried to cover his embarrassment by jokingly asking if they were asking him out and he got a serious yes. He almost fainted on the spot but managed to agree.

As a couple:

○From then on it wasn't just his SO who was a famous cosplayer he became one himself to his horror. Their fans were now his fans and he just had to suck it up and accept his fate.

○Couples cosplays are a must! But only from series they both genuinely like. He'll be super embarrassed if you're going to cons in cosplay together but He'll suck it up for you. For private photoshoots he's a little more comfortable but is still embarrassed when his SO posts them.

○His dorm wasn't just his own anymore. It was shared with his SO. You could clearly see they practically lived there.

○Cute gaming sessions, and by that I mean him gaming and his SO working on a project and commentating.

○Friday movie nights are a must. If he doesn't get time to just sit with his SO in his arms binge watching series he'll combust

○Designated bag holder Idia is real. He's the bf walking around the con with all of his SO stuff and he doesn't complain one bit. Why would he when his partner is cosplaying one of his favs and looks so genuinely happy to be interacting with fans

○Idia takes the best photos btw. Both in cosplay and out of cosplay he's always prepared. He'll use drones, go out of his way to get the best angles and even edit the photos himself If his SO asks. He's their number 1 supporter

○Idia will fight to pay for things. Need fabric? You know his card information. At a con and see some merch you want? Here's his card grab anything you want, and actually get multiple of some of the keychains or pins so he could match with you. Basically if you want something you'll get it. He has the money to spare and it's more meaningful if he spends it on you.

○He's a pro at making props. With his technical skills he's making props that actually do the same things that they do in their individual series

○He's very interested in the creation of cosplays as a whole but cannot sew whatsoever so he sticks to what he knows and just enjoys watching his SO work.

Notes from Riri:

You will never have a more supportive Bf than Idia istg. Sorry if this isn't like an actual fic I just wanted to get this out of my head. But lmk if you like content like this and my asks are always open! I'm not a pro at writing but hey I'm here to be delusional so that's what I'll be

[keirawantstocry]

that one time tubbo called pac a dilf 😵‍💫

okay wait…

young teacher tubbo and dilf pac comes to collect his son from class…..tubbos got such a crush on him and maybe he asks pac to stay back to talk about richas’s behaviour but it turns into something else….

you've come to the right person (guy who is obsessed with pacbo)

Tubbo wasn't quite sure how he ended up with this job. He had never in any of his years considered being a teacher of any sort. But after he adopted his daughter, he needed a second job. Mechanics weren't paying him enough. Luckily there was a daycare nearby that was hiring. It was a more difficult process than he had expected, much like the adoption. But he got it. 

His daughter stayed with her “other father”. Tom's name was always said in a sigh like that. They were young and stupid and drunk and Tubbo didn't know what he was doing when he signed the stupid paper that Tommy had slid him across the dirty bar table. 

Tommy, and unfortunately Molly, found it hilarious. They both insisted on watching Sunny while he was at work. Thankfully Sunny loved them. Tommy would do her hair in braids. It was something they did when they were younger. Tubbo remembered sitting in fields with Tommy's older cousin braiding his long hair. 

As soon as Tommy saw Sunny's thick 3C curls, he stayed up two nights in a row researching and watching video after video of how to do cornrows and other braids in her hair. 

Molly often sent him videos while he was at work on Sunny prattling on while Tommy listened intently, braiding her hair as best he could. As much as Tubbo joked about divorce and threatened, he was glad to have two people he loved watching his child and caring for them so well. 

He closed his laptop with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. He was the last one there, his co worker had to leave because she had to pick up her own child but they needed someone to watch the singular child whose parents were incredibly late. 

Opening his eyes, Tubbo stared down the young boy in front of him. 

He was a Latino boy, probably around 7 or 8 with an oversized yellow jersey that he wore every single day. He was staring at Tubbo with large brown eyes. It was almost unnerving but he was a cute, decently well mannered child. 

Tubbo remembered the day he joined the daycare. A man with shoulder length brown hair and a singular white streak through it brought him in and explained how the boy had been born without part of his leg but was still very capable of movement with the prosthetic his Pai had made him. 

The owner of the daycare had nodded, assuring the man over and over that his child would be well cared for and that they would make sure the other children didn't say anything nasty as children tended to do. 

Richas, Tubbo remembered, as he continued to stare down the boy. His name was Richas. 

“Hello,” he said. 

The boy grinned. “Ola!” 

Tubbo laughed at his enthusiasm before picking up his phone to attempt to call the boy's parents once again. It rang and rang, like it had three times before click. 

“Holy shit, we are so sorry. Our schedule got all mixed up and we didn't know who was supposed to pick him up today. Fuck!” 

“Hey, hey,” Tubbo said calmly. “It's okay. I'm here with him. Get here whenever you can.” 

The voice on the phone that Tubbo didn't recognize took a few deep breaths. “Sim, sim, of course. Peqi is on his way already. He should be there any minute.” 

Tubbo smiled at Richas who bounced up and down excitedly, trying to climb up the front of the desk to reach the phone. “Sounds good, Mr…?” 

The voice laughed. “Just call me Mike yeah?” 

Richas made the saddest noise possible and Tubbo's heart melted. “Wait, before you go, I think he wants to talk to you.” 

He removed the phone from the side of his ear and carefully handed it to the boy who cradled it with both hands and held it up to his mouth. “OI, PAI.” 

Mike's voice came through quietly. “Oi, Richas. Você está sendo bom?” 

“Sim, sim,” the boy sang happily. “Eu sou bom.” 

“Bom menino. Pai Pac will be there soon okay?” 

“Okay, okay.” 

“Eu te amo.” 

“Eu também te amo.” 

The phone clicked, ending the call and Richas handed it back to Tubbo with a smile. Not even five seconds after the phone was back in his hand, the door slammed open. Standing in the now open doorway was a frazzled and incredibly attractive man. 

Richas ran over, bounding easily into his arms. 

“Richarlyson!” the man cooed, swinging him back and forth in his arms. He met Tubbo's eyes over his son's head. ‘Thank you’ he mouthed. 

Tubbo was almost too stunned to nod but he managed to as Richas's father slowly lowered him to the ground to step over to Tubbo. 

“I have to sign him out, yes?” 

Tubbo nodded, still speechless. He cleared his throat and slid the sign-out sheet across the desk. “Yeah, uh, yeah.” 

The man, Pac, from the signs of his scribbled signature, smiled blindingly at him, his son clinging to his leg. 

Tubbo noticed at that moment that Pac had a near identical prosthetic to his son. “You match,” he said before mentally slapping himself. You don't just fucking point out a man's prosthetic, no fucking wonder you're still married to Tommy. 

But Pac just laughed softly. “We do,” he said softly, rubbing the top of Richas's head. “He is very clearly my son.” 

“Are you his biological father?” Tubbo asked. Holy fucking shit, shut up you fucking idiot. He is so tired of you already, why are you asking so many questions? 

Pac just laughed softly again and the twist in Tubbo's chest felt like falling off a cliff. “Sim, yes, I am. I was the one who gave birth to him.” 

Tubbo stopped himself from asking any questions about that. He knew better than that at least. “That's really cool.” He tried a smile and felt so awkward. 

“Thank you,” Pac said. “And thank you for watching him past time. I know you probably have places to be.” 

Tubbo brushed him off with a wave of his hand. “Oh don't worry about it. My daughter is more than happy to spend more of their time with her ‘other father’.” Out of instinct, he raised his hands and made quotation marks with his hands. 

Pac raised an eyebrow curiously. 

Tubbo flushed. “A, uh, friend of mine. We got drunk married and now my daughter considers him her other father.”

Pac laughed. “No spouse of your own then? One that you're in love with anyway?” 

Tubbo flushed darker. “Ah, no. Just my husband and his girlfriend.” 

“Mmm,” Pac said, leaning over on the desk. “Good to know.” 

Tubbo froze in his spot as Pac's eyes, big and brown just like his son's, stared into his soul. He gulped before clearing his throat. “Yeah, uhmm, yeah.” The heat of his face was nearly unbearable. 

Richas gently smacked his dad on the leg. “Oi, stop that.” 

Pac leaned back, holding his hands up with an innocent expression. “What?? What?” 

The little boy glared at him with no heat. “Pai Mike told you to stop that.” 

“Well, Mikey isn't here right now is he? And he also has no control over my life.” Pac turned back to Tubbo and grabbed the pen again. He motioned towards Tubbo's arm which he held out willingly. 

Quickly the man scribbled a number onto his arm, his grip strong and warm. Tubbo felt dizzy. 

Pac dropped the pen with a smile and a wink before grabbing his son's hand. “Call me yeah?” 

Tubbo stared in disbelief, red as a beet. “...yeah,” he said softly as Pav happily bounded out the door, his son berating him in Portuguese. 

“Tommy,” he said softly when he got home, holding up his arm. “I think I got hit on.”

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Best QL of 2023: Favorite Lines

Okay so I am slightly over my one year mark in the BL Fandom, and have watched over the past like...12-14 months a little under 100 shows, so I am forcing myself to stick to the shows that aired in 2023 or else I would never be able to finish this. But I saw @abstractelysium do this so I had to climb aboard:

Top Five Lines that Lived Rent-Free In My Brain This Year:

"Have you been well? Without me?" - Shin Ki Tae, Our Dating Sim, Ep 4

Y'ALL THIS FUCKING LINE. KNIFE. CHEST. EVERY TIME! This line sits on the same level of absolute and total emotional devastation for me as the "I just want things to be nice for him" link in Big Eden.

"Are you tired, Uncle Jim?" - Li Ming, Moonlight Chicken, Ep 8

Jim and Li Ming's relationship just makes me absolutely so fucking emotional. I love them individually, I love them together, and I love how much Jim does for his community. But no one ever asks him this. And it is so striking to me that Li Ming is finally the one to demonstrate how much he understands and appreciates everything Jim does not only for him but for the entire community when he ass him that question.

"My family is old fashioned. I kept everything in my heart and didn't want to tell anyone until I was 15. My family went to Europe with Wa's family. We saw two women kissing on the street. I saw her and wanted to talk to her. I want to know how she did it. I want to release it like them. But Wa's mother and I...You can probably imagine. A pair of old-fashioned women who think same-sex love is wrong...That's when I realized I wasn't the only one feeling terrible. When we got back that night she broke down and cried. No one knew why. I asked her if it was about the afternoon incident. She asked me if a kiss between two women was wrong. I said no. It's just like two men kissing. It's not wrong. On that night a 15 year old boy and a 13 year old girl held each other and cried." -Sailom, Wedding Plan, Ep. 6

Okay this isn't a line, it's a monologue but holy fucking shit this was such a beautiful speech, and I will quote @bengiyo here and say "I CAN'T BELIEVE PEOPLE HATED THIS MAN." He has spent so much of his life in the closet protecting not only himself but especially Yiwa. Sailom was going to go through with the wedding just to ensure that Yiwa and Marine could be together without anyone prying.

"This is as tender as I can be. Someone like me." -Mhok, Last Twilight, Ep. 4

Honestly you could replace the first sentence with whatever you want, the part that sticks in my brain the most is "someone like me" because I know that Mhok must have heard shit like that his entire life, and Day is here saying it in a way that I don't think Mhok takes as an actual insult or passing of judgement. I like that the line is used whenever Mhok does show who he truly is and how much tenderness or warmth he is actually capable of in a subversion of the expectations placed upon him.

"But you know, I already knew your preferences so well. When I go shopping with Kakei-san, he talks about you all the time...He says it with a smile" -Kayoko, What Did You Eat Yesterday?, Season 2 Episode 11

THE WEEP I WEPT WHEN KAYOKO TOLD KENJI HOW MUCH SHIRO TALKS ABOUT HIM. This entire second season of WDYEY Shiro has just continuously shown so much beautiful beautiful growth and my heart twists with pride every single time I see him looking more relaxed and smiley. WDYEY is the most perfect show to ever exist.

[unknowntoyou2205]

Fear turns into confession (4/4)

Info: Jay can't knock the feelings he has for y/n

requested by @maybankangel-blog

Jay’s left leg bounced repeatedly as Erin drove down the road, following behind Adam and Kim. Erin had tried to make conversation with him but all he could think about was y/n and how she was. Hearing what the Montez brothers had planned for her made Jay sick. Voight had Mouse call the guys to see if they could find catch a meeting with them, acting as if they were interested in a girl, and Kevin was going to head in undercover. Jay had wanted to do it but Voight convinced him not to, saying they would probably remember him from his first attempt at catching them.

“Jay stop worrying, I’m, sure y/n is fine.” Erin spoke out to the quiet surroundings.

“She can’t blow her cover, and y/ won’t. So she will allow them to whatever they want to do, while she remains weak.” Jay stated, throwing his hand out in exasperation.

“Let me rephrase, you shouldn’t be worrying this much over her. You didn’t worry this much about Mouse when he was taken hostage.” Erin stated, glancing at Jay to see his reaction.

“Y/n’s different, she..” Jay took a deep breath to stop himself, “me and her have a history okay. I care about her, a lot more than..”

“Than me.” Erin interrupted him, causing Jay to turn to her quickly.

“More than Mouse.” Jay clarified, “Is this why you’re so cold towards y/n. Because you think I care about her more than you?” Jay asked, and Erin remained quiet for a moment.

“We’re here.” Erin announced as they turned the corner to a small café, where Kevin was sitting with two men.

“So why’d you contact us, how’d you find out about us.” Dareen asked the man sat in front of him and his brother.

“Well I mentioned to one of my buddies about my parents nagging me about finding a girl and settling down, you know how parents are wanting some grandkids and such. Told them I’d do anything to have a girl to shut them up. And a guy, Declan was his name I think, overheard and mentioned that he may be able to help. Sent me to you guys. Said it would cost a dime but you guys make it worth it.”

Kyle looked at Dareen before leaning in.

“What kind of girl you into?”

“y/c/h hair, y/c/e eyes, broad and sim, not too energetic, need a girl who can be kept tame, knows who’s in charge.” Kevin stated, describing y/n to them.

“Yeah we got a girl like that, when you want her?”

“Can I see her first?”

“No, no, we don’t do that. You take your chances, decide now or get lost.” Kyle stated, and Dareen lifted his jumper to reveal a gun.

“No no, that’s cool, that’s cool.” Kevin stated, eyeing the gun.

“Great, meet us at the random road in an hour, we’ll meet you there with the girl.” Kyle smirked.

“You bring the money, we bring you the girl.” Dareen announced.

“How much you want?” Kevin asked, eyebrow rising a bit.

“We’ll send you the dets.” Kyle spoke as he got up, walking back to his car.

“We’re moving.” Jay spoke into the radio.

“You know the drill.” Hank stated.

----------

y/n sighed as the tiredness began to hit her. She had no idea what time it was, but going by the small window in the top corner of the wall, it was starting to turn to night. She had tried discretely talking to Intelligence through the small mike, but all she got back was static, meaning the connection was lost on their end. She was used to not having interactions with her teams, but the uneasy feeling never went away.

Kyle had come in a while ago, stating that one girl might get lucky. But y/n had no clue what that meant. All she knew was that someone would be taken away today, and it entailed a cost. The boys weren’t enterally mean, they had fed them some food before they left, but they were yet to hear the sound of a car returning.

“What happens to the girl taken?” Y/n asked the only girl who seemed to talk.

“No clue. We just see them taken and they don’t return. A new girl takes their place.”

“Oh.” Y/n nodded, looking back at the window as a car was heard pulling in on gravel.

The girls crowded together and tried to cover their eyes from the light as it strayed from the opening door. Each girl flinched as the light harshly came through the door and y/n couldn't help but stay to the back of the crowd. She squinted her eyes as two figures came into view, refusing to look away as they walked towards her. Kyle had a smirk on his face as he walked towards her.

“It’s your lucky day new girl.” Kyle smirked at y/n, grabbing her arm.

“Hey what?” Y/n shouted, surprised at the pain she felt.

“Don’t fight, just come with us nice and calm than no one needs to get hurt.”

“No stop, leave me alone.” Y/n cried out, pulling back from him as they went up the stairs.

“Shut it girl or else.” Dareen shouted out at y/n as he took y/n from Kyle as he locked the door again.

Dareen narrowed his eyes at her and pushed her down onto the ground. Y/n gasped at the ain she felt on her shoulder upon the impact. She was still recovering from injuries so banging it against the wooden floor wasn’t ideal. She narrowed her eyes at the two men before Kyle crouched down to her. Watching his movement, she never seen the fist that came to her stomach on the opposite side.

“Now, that’s just a warning. We don’t want to hurt you too much.” Kyle warned her before grabbing her wrist and forcing her up.

Y/n nodded at the two men and decided to walk with them, trying to avoid eye contact of the two as they walked out the front door. Y/n blinked at the change of light as the sun set in front of them. Kyle threw her towards their car, opening the door before pushing her into it. She frowned in confusion as the car started and they drove down the driveway before coming to a stop. Y/n looked around before she was harshly tugged out of her seat.

Y/n looked around her before seeing a car pulling up behind them. She smirked to herself asshe seen Kevin jump out of the car.

-----------

Jay sighed in frustration as Erin parked far into the woods, out of sight as Kevin drove past them towards the meeting point. All he wanted was to open the door and run towards where y/n was and hold her in his arms. Erin sighed and rolled her eyes beside him, waiting to hear the word.

“Hey man, you got the girl.” Kevin spoke as he greeted Kyle.

“You got the money.” Kyle shouted back at him.

“Got it right here.” Rattling was heard as Kevin took out the envelope.

“Bring her out.”

Jay gripped the car door as he prepared to jump out and run towards the scene. Erin eyes him and glared slightly before preparing her gun. It wasn’t long before Kevin spoke the line and they rushed out of the car. Jay couldn’t help the thumping of his heart as they moved behind trees, and he glanced around to see y/n being gripped by one of the lads. Jay glared at the man, wanting nothing more than to throw his arms off her.

Time moved fast, and before y/n knew it she was pulled towards Dareen, and a gun was placed towards her head. Words were shouted as Intellagence surrounded Kyle and Dareen, and y/n’s eyes met Jay’s who nodded at her.

“Back off or she gets it.” Kyle shouted out.

“Let her go.” Hank shouted, aiming the gun at them.

“How about no.” Kyle fake thought before aiming and shooting his gun towards y/n leg.

Y/n cried out as the bullet embedded itself into her thigh. She began to fall as another bullet hit her arm, and she hissed as a foot was felt against her stomach, digging into her abdomen. Gunshots were heard before shouting followed, and y/n looked to the side to see Kyle and Dareen on the ground, Adam and Kevin on top of the mas they were handcuffed. She looked in front of her again as a hand was felt on her shoulder.

“Y/n, stay with me.” Jay shouted at her, placing pressure on her arm.

“My leg.” Y/n slurred lightly as her vision blurred.

“I need an ambo.” Jay called out behind him before looking back at y/n “hey, stay with me okay. Your going to be okay.” Jay pleaded with her.

“It’s ok.” Y/n slurred before her eyes shut on her.

---------

Jay spent the next few days at y/n’s side as she lay in her hospital bed, asleep. Will had told him that she was okay, but the bullet in her thigh had hit a vital artery, which caused blood loss. Jay hadn’t slept since the case, and had only been home once, which lead to an argument between Jay and Erin.

“Jay she’s not your girlfriend, stop worrying so much. She’ll be awake soon, you don’t need to stay with her 24 hrs.” Erin shouted at Jay as he packed an over bag.

“Erin I’m not leaving her side till I know she’s okay.” Jay responded, not stopping his movement.

“You didn’t react like this when I got hurt.”

“That’s because you needed stitches, she’s unconscious Erin, different scenario.” Jay shouted at her.

“You care about her more than me.”

“Erin you have been nothing but harsh to y/n from the moment you met her. You need to understand that y/n is someone I care about deeply, we’ve been through literal hell together.” Jay explained, sighing in slight frustration.

“Than maybe you should be with her.” Erin stated.

“Maybe I should.” Jay shouted quicker than he had to think of what he said.

“What?” Erin asked, voice quietening down.

“I think that maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore.” Jay spoke, calming down first.

“Your breaking up with me?” Erin asked, shocked.

“I’ll get Mouse to collect my stuff.” Jay spoke, sighing as he zipped up his bag and left the apartment.

Jay’s thoughts were disrupted as y/n moved slightly. Jay watched closely as her eyes began to flutter, and he leaned closer to her as she looked around. Her eyes stopped as they met Jays.

“Hey you.” Jay smiled, moving to sit beside her on the bed.

Y/n smiled in response.

Wh.." Y/n stopped talking, the dryness in her throat preventing her from saying much.

"Here." Jay offered her some water, bringing it to her lips and bringing her head up so she wouldn't choke.

"How long have I been out for?" Y/n asked once her throat wasn't scratching at her.

"A week. The bullet hit an archery but, Will managed to stop the bleeding and remove the bullet." Jay explained.

"The girls.."

"All found safe, reunited with their families. Kevin and Adam arrested the guys shortly after they shot you." jay explained, taking y/n's hand in his.

"I'm glad." Y/n smiled softly, leaning back into her pillow.

"I'm glad your okay. I don't know what I would of done if things had went south." Jay confessed, placing a hand on her cheek.

"I always knew you would find me, you always do." Y/n smiled.

Jay chuckled lightly before leaning forward, kissing y/n's head before moving to call a doctor.

---------------

A few weeks later y/n had since been discharged and was currently on medical advice not to do anything too strenuous. She spent most of her time at Intelligence, sitting with Mouse as he worked the computer.  Kyle and Dareen had been arrested and the girls had been found, each safe and returned to their families.

Jay sat at his desk staring at y/n as she laughed at something Kevin said, his head in his hand. Thinking to himself, he got up and decided to walk over the them. Not thinking much he grabbed y/n before her good arm and turning her to him. Jay ignored the stares that turned to them as she smiled at him.

“Hey Jay, you ok?” Y/n asked, concerned by his sudden movements.

“Y/n I have never been so afraid of loosing you. Which is why I ask,” Jay stopped as he moved down to one knee.

“Jay..” Y/n strarted, not sure what to say.

“What the “ Erin started, not sure how to react.

“Jay I can’t marry you.” Y/n stated, and Jay stood up with a frown, “But I would accept to being your girlfriend.” She stated boldly.

“Really?”  Jay asked, a smile starting to form.

“Really.” Y/n nodded, and Jay smirked in response.

Erin crossed her arms at the interaction between the two while Adam and Kevin whistled. Mouse just smiled at his two friends, knowing nothing could have been better than them too together.

[callmewrinkles3]

Sandwiches

Summary: Dan’s delayed coming home from winter testing. Emmy’s in bed. Fluff.

March 2019

The flight from Barcelona to London wasn’t long, but Dan was exhausted. Two weeks of winter testing meant his brain was mush in a good way. The car felt good. Not great, but he was comfortable. He could work with comfortable. But then there was a delay so they were diverted to Gatwick and it was a pain getting through. But finally after far too long he was getting his bag and getting into the taxi with Blake.

Emmy hadn’t replied to his landed text so hopefully she was actually asleep for once. She never really slept when he was driving, even in testing when it was safe. But then they were in the taxi and he put his phone away so he didn’t smile stupidly at it and give everything away. Having his manager and one of his best mates living next door to his girl was awkward for so many reasons. Especially this one.

“Talk to you tomorrow, Mate? Well, today?” Blake asked and Dan shook his head.

“Day off? Weekend off, fuck it. When’s the next thing I actually have to do? Sim work, right?”

“Sim on Monday yeah.”

“Fuck it. We’re off this weekend. I’m gonna spend it sleeping and stretching.”

“See ya.”

The driver pulled back onto the road until Dan got him to stop beside the 24 hour shop. “Just here, thanks.”

“I thought you were out further?”

“My girl’s in his building and we’re keeping it quiet for now. We’re all friends.”

“Good luck.”

It was a ten minute wait to make sure Blake was actually in his place before Dan started the minute walk down the street. He spent the time productively and picked up a bouquet of flowers for Em. They’d very carefully ignored Valentines Day, unwilling to have that conversation and let his heart be broken if she didn’t feel the same way he did. So instead it was purple and yellow tulips that he had in his hand while he climbed the three sets of stairs to get to the tiny attic apartments.

Opening the front door by pushing in the one spot guaranteed not to squeak, the first thing he noticed was the chill in the air. A quick glance at the crap storage heaters showed they were supposed to be on, but there was no heat emitting from them. Fucking landlord too cheap to fix it even when Dan had called multiple times after Em had. She’d repeated the story about how the handyman taught her how to use the heaters instead of checking them one too many times, her “I was using them in uni halls and I was warmer then, Danny!” filling the air.

Sitting in the middle of the table was a beeswax wrap covered plate and a bottle of water. Pulling the wrap off he discovered the BLT sitting there on crusty bread. His girl always left him something if she was going to bed, crisp bacon and tomatoes that were well insulated to stop the bread going soggy making him so happy. This was home. The way no matter what was going on Em made sure to have a sandwich waiting for him to get back to her if he was due in at night. For the first time in too long there was someone who cared about him just because she liked him and that was magical.

He finished eating and took a swallow from the bottle before capping it and wrapping his arms around himself to keep the heat. It was quick to brush his teeth and run a cloth over his face to get the worst of the travel grime off. But finally he pushed open the bedroom door to see the best thing. His Emmy was curled up on the side of the bed he usually slept on, a black and yellow hoodie on to keep her warm in the March chill. Her arms were wrapped around the Jigglypuff plushie he’d bought for her in Japan the year before and she was so peaceful it nearly hurt him to have to get her to move. He pulled his clothes off quickly and pushed the starry night duvet out of the way so he could slip into the bed.

“I’m back, Emmy. It’s just me,” he murmured as her eyes opened and a grin spread across her sleepy face.

“Missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He kissed the top of her head as she curled up against his chest and tried to get comfy again. A moment later he felt her shuffle and watched as her hands moved her hoodie up.

“What’s up?”

“Wanna feel your skin. Know it’s you. I-“ She was cut off by a yawn. “The hoodie made me think you were Jigglypuff but I’m too sleepy.”

“I’ve got you. Hands up for a minute.” It took less than a minute for him to pull her hoodie off and throw it across the room, leaving her bare skin pushed against his as they curled under the blankets and got warm again.

“Nigh-night Danny. Tell me about testing tomorrow. We’ve got time.” Dan watched Em’s eyes close as she curled in tighter, their legs tangling together. They were flying to Australia in a couple of days to spend time in Perth before Melbourne and he couldn’t wait. It was two and a bit weeks that he got to spend almost entirely with Em curled up beside him with his family there. In the quiet of the night he could admit it to himself. He couldn’t wait to spend time at his home race with the woman he was in love with.

[ithinkabouttzu]

Boy Next door || Pt. 1

A Choi Beomgyu Fic

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: y/n has been neighbors with an insufferable boy, Beomgyu for quite some time. When one day he wakes her up to an offer of a lifetime. A fake relationship with him, in return to get back at her ex and his fling.

Warnings: Fake relationships, beaten windows, an obnoxious Beomgyu, ex bestfriends & boyfriends, a hint of betrayal, Jake Sim is your ex lol.

{pairing: Beomgyu x Female oc}

Being woken up peacefully was one thing, but waking up to a banging on your window was a whole other level of evil.

You groan lightly at the noise, wishing for a couple more seconds of sleep. There could only be one person who would bang on someone’s poor window at 9 o’clock in the morning. The one and only, Beomgyu.

‘’C’mon y/n I got to ask you somethingggg”

“Y/nnnn”

You hear the whining voice continue from the outside of your house. You groan for a second time, throwing your head face first back into your pillow.

“Beomgyu” You say to yourself with a small sigh, sitting up slightly, preparing yourself to go ahead and see what he needs. In Beomgyu’s world, this was a formal way of saying he needed you in some way. A simple text would work just find too, but no.

Beomgyu’s main line of communication was throwing rocks at the second story window of your room with loud yelling and screaming til’ you woke up. Thank God for the bush separating him and the window. If that poor bush wasn’t there, Gyu would probably try to climb in your window, then you would have actually tried to kill him.

You slowly raise yourself up in a full sitting position while shifting your aching body to the side of your bed, swinging your legs over so they could finally touch ground.

This was something that has been going on for years now.

He moved in to the house next door to yours in the 7th grade. Your parents decided it would be a great idea to welcome the new neighbors, the Choi family into the neighborhood by inviting them over to dinner. Your two families clicked then almost immediately.

At that same dinner is when you realized that Mr. and Mrs Choi’s son, Beomgyu was the same age and grade as you. Ever since that one dinner at your house, you guys had become good friends, not exactly bestfriends, but close enough to where you could talk to each other when you guys needed it.

He was spunky, and fun, and he brought out this rebellious side of you that you didn’t even know you had. It was also refreshing being friends with someone who went to a different school as you.

The only problem was, every time he wanted to hangout, needed to ask you a question, or just needed someone to talk to, he would bang on your window, and at unusual hours at that. Whether it was 7 in the morning or 10 at night, if he needed you, that’s just what he did.

Your family definitely took notice to this over time, sometimes the banging even waking them up. Your mom finally asked you about it the mysterious noise inflicted on your window one morning, obviously awoken by the loud sound from earlier.

When you told her it was Beomgyu, that’s all she needed to know to understand the situation, because that just seems like something Beomgyu would do, that’s just how he was. Ever since that interaction your parents haven’t questioned his odd antics but rather found it amusing between you two, even hinting that you guys would make a good match. Which never failed to make you gag nonetheless.

You get up from your bed, now remembering how nice it was to stretch in the mornings, you examine you room, trying to find your slippers, and before you could locate them you hear another loud bang coming from your window.

You stomp over to the noise, ready to tell off Beomgyu adding to one of the many times you’ve done before.

“What do you want!?” You swing your window doors open, throwing your hands in the air. You look at the boy, you could tell he looked tired and maybe a little stressed, but he still managed to break a sweet smile to you.

“Finally, you’re up! Cmon I gotta tell you something!” He motioned for you to come down to where he was.

“Really?! You just want to tell me something?? At nine in the morning?! Are you nuts??”

“Just cmon, y/n it’s important!” You hear his plea as you think to yourself. You need to get him back in the future. For all the years he has ruined those good mornings of sleep.

“I really wish I had a soundproof window” You whisper to yourself. “Okay i’ll be there in a minute!” You yell to the boy, closing your beaten and bruised window.

Again, you really did need a soundproof window.

You rustle around your room, trying to find some clothes to put on fast, you settle for the closest pair of pants next to you and a casual shirt laying on your side chair, and throw them on quickly. And as usual, you did not want to hear another ping on your window, meaning you needed to be quick before you heard another another noise from outside.

It was annoying, very annoying, only toddlers or children bang on windows to get someone’s attention, or just obnoxious people in romcoms.

Even though you hated being woken up to the sound of your window being beaten, it was nice to know someone enjoyed talking to to the point where they would bang on your window. It was maybe a little odd to see it in that way, but it was better than judging him for it.

You get your shoes and tie them on quickly, before heading out your bedroom door and shuffling down your steps with a quick smile

“Beomgyu again?” You hear a familiar voice ask you curiously. You look up, to see your mom peeling an apple in the kitchen, taking notice to your frantic motions down the steps.

“Yeah” You reply back with a knowingly sigh before heading out of the door and onto the side of your home.

“Ahhh there she is, finally.” You see Beomgyu appear from out of the corner, Raising his hands in relief as you rounded the side of your home.

“Yep, here I am” You give out a deep sigh, annoyed and eager to see what he wants.

“Nice to see you to y/n” He replies to your sigh sarcastically. “And it’s not everyday someone wakes you up from the kindness of their heart!”

“Sadly it is almost everyday”

“Why do you sigh so much? You’re so depressing sometimes y/n” He rolls his eyes jokingly at you.

“Cmon, get on with it! What did you get me out here for?!”

“Okay look here’s the thing, and it’s very important. You know Hazel, right?”

Hazel? Of course you knew Hazel. That girl had the award of being the most annoying girl you ever met, and had a past of using people to her advantage.

Hazel had used to go to your school, she was your buddy, your girl, your bestie even. All until you caught her and Beomgyu kissing in your room when you were gone to get you guys sleepover snacks.

Why were you mad again? Because at that time Beomgyu was your ultimate crush and you could say you were quite smitten with him, and she knew about it too, but that didn’t matter to her, the only reason of her being your friend was solely because of that fact that Beomgyu was your neighbor and friend.

You get it, Beomgyu is very attractive, but she took obsessive and extreme lengths to make him hers, even though he had made it clear he didn’t want any relationship with her before.

Ever since then, your relationship with Hazel went downhill, and fast at that. She moved to from your school onto to Beomgyu’s of course, and you guys have never talked since.

“yeah of course I know her” You roll your eyes almost so far they could pop out of your head.

“Okay well guess what she did? She asked out me for the spring formal! And, well, of course you know I said no! But then she proceeded to ask JAKE to the dance!”

You could feel your mind going blank for a second. Jake? Jake Sim? He was actually going to the dance with Hazel?

Jake was your first ever boyfriend, he was also your first ever heartbreak. You guys had started dating when Beomgyu moved next door in 7th grade, two long years later, You guys broke up because of “long distance” (that was only 15 minutes way) but you knew it was really just because he had just slowly lost any romantic feelings for you.

But of course this is something Hazel would do. She would ask HIM to the dance. It’s almost as if she was still trying to get back at you after the Beomgyu situation.

“So Jake and Hazel are going to the dance together?” You feel your mind spin again, it just doesn’t make sense. Jake always despised her when you guys dated. What changed his mind about her after all these years?

“You know what they’re doing,right?” He crosses his arms and leans his back onto the side of your house.

“Trying to make us feel like absolute shit?” You say in a dumbfounded, sarcastic manner, shaking your head at him.

“They’re obviously trying to make us jealous! You know there is only one thing we can do…”

Beomgyu looks at you, giving you that familiar mischievous smirk that has gotten you into so much trouble before. You could then completely understand what he had in mind.

“No, Nope, Nada, Never. It’s not happening.” You throw your hands in the air, already walking your way back to your front door. It was a stupid idea to come out here anyway.

“Wait, hear me out first” You hear his footsteps trailing behind you, trying to get you to understand his reasoning, but almost nothing could get you to go to agree to this idea.

“There’s nothing to hear. I’m not going to a formal with you!”

“But please!! Just please I’ll pay you back, anything, Even free boba for a whole month!! Cmon Y/n, just hear me out on this one” You stop in your tracks at one word, boba.

You turn around looking at him head on, “Free boba, for a month you say?” Your face can’t contain the smirk forming from your lips.

“Yes of course!” He’s gives you his best doe eyes and pretty pouty lips. You could see the desperacy in his face. It was hard to say no to someone as pretty as him, Especially in the angelic morning light.

“When is the formal again?”

“A week from today”

“Okay” You sigh, seeing his face light up into a sweet smile.

“Yayy” You see that same huge grin appear on his face.

“But-“ You stop his smile for a quick second. “We need to establish some rules first. “

“Okay, what are they?!” He says coming closer, curious to hear what regulations you had for him in order to be his partner at the dance.

An idea suddenly pops into your head, “Hold on, i’ll be right back!”

You run over to the back of your house, swinging the back door wide open with a fast push. You look for a stack of composition notebook paper and a pencil to write with, along with a nice clipboard to write on. All that you would usually find in the back of your house.

You finally locate all of your items, grabbing them all, before running outside the house once more and back to your previous position outside, where Beomgyu was sitting in the grass waiting eagerly for your arrival.

“Okay, i’m here” You huff out, regaining your breath back to its natural rhythm.

“What’s the paper for?”

“The rules. I’m gonna write them down and we have to sign it when we’re done”

Beomgyu sits up from his previous spot, moving beside you to see the paper. “Okay let’s hear them”

“Alright. #1 - We have to go dress and tux shopping together.” You looking at Beomgyu for approval before writing it down, in which he ends up nodding his head in return, ushering you to continue.

“Rule #2 - We can’t tell ANYONE it’s fake , not a soul, not even our parents. ”

“We have to?! You know how my parents are, They’ll be heartbroken if they find out it’s all a scam.” He protests, trying to challenge you on the second rule.

“That’s why we don’t tell them it’s a scam, we’ll just tell them we’re going as friends., but only they will know that.”

“Rule #3 - free boba for a month, of course.” You almost forgot, jotting down the rule quickly.

“Sure, and… What’s the 4th rule?”

“4th rule is..” You think to yourself. What could the fourth rule be? You give a quick glance to the boy beside you. That’s all it took to know exactly what the last rule will be.

“#4 - We cannot catch any feelings for each other after the dance, under no circumstances” You write down the last rule.

“Seriously?! Trust me that’s easy!”

You roll your eyes at his comment. “So do we have a deal?” you put out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal” He grabs your hand, shaking it hard. Making you wince once he let it go, shaking off the slight pain coming from your hand.

You sign the contract after him, sealing the deal, giving the clipboard back to him. It feels as if you just signed off your freedom for the next week, but there was no way to take it back now.

“I’ll be here to pick you tomorrow morning, and don’t be asleep when i get here!”

“Sure” You laugh, both of you finally walking back to your respective houses. This week was going to be hell, but you were up for the challenge and ready to finally get back at Hazel and Jake.

A/n: Hello everyone I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter!! I really had fun making this but please bare with me 😅 I haven’t written a multiple part story in a while so i’m sorry if it’s a little rusty LOL but if you enjoy make sure to like and reblog if you’d like <33333

[shina913]

Cortado | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-15 (SFW)

Genre: strangers to lovers; meet-cute; tooth-rotting fluff; tiny bit of angst

Warnings: some cussing; brief mention of weed; self-consciousness/insecurity; it's just disgustingly cheesy and fluffy--sorry!🥴

Word count: 4,290 words

Summary: "There must be something about trains. You never know what to expect."

A/N: Here you go, @borahae-k! This is a couple of days late because I couldn't make up my mind about what kind of Joon I wanted to write based on his Spain insta-photo dump. Eventually, I happened to remember a show I saw that I thought would be the perfect scenario for this. Also, I just want to stunt-cast Namjoon in all of my fluffy fics! Thank you, Sim @itdoesntmatterwhy for looking this over and giving me notes (and just general screaming)! I got a little too into the ending that I almost didn't want to stop writing it 💕 The banner kind of sucks but hopefully, the story makes up for that!

“The train will be leaving in ten minutes…” the announcement echoed through the station.

Your eyes flick back and forth at your surroundings. Everyone was glued to their phones and devices. You hardly remember a time and place when people actually sat down and had a solid conversation without having to pull their smartphones every second to scroll around aimlessly.

Did anybody text them? Did they get a like on their latest reel?

If it weren’t an absolute necessity for your job, you’d have yeeted your own phone into a river. While you ponder on your cynical thoughts about technology, you are startled by your own annoying little device. 

You look at the screen to see who it was. Recognizing the caller, you answer, “Hey, mom.”

She asks if your train was right on schedule.

“Yeah, we’re just about to leave. The ride should be a little under three hours. Can you still pick me up? …Great, thanks. I’ll give you a call when I’m close so you don’t have to wait too long. …Okay…see you, bye!”

You hang up and set your phone on the table in front of you. You were lucky enough to get to the station and secure seats tucked in the back row. 

It was the end of the semester and the doctorate students from your program were given the option to take a short break before beginning their new projects.

You also took advantage of that option so you could finally move the rest of your things into your new office space. The university took care of moving your furniture and other personal belongings out of your flat and into your new location. However, you decided to bring some of your books. These editions were too precious for you to entrust to some stranger.

It wasn’t ideal to be lugging this many things around during a train ride since you didn’t drive. Thankfully, the seats across from you were vacant so you had enough room to set your textbooks down, along with a box of random knick-knacks from your former flat.

Still, you didn’t want to take over the whole space so you set them all against the window, leaving some room for anybody who would like to sit across from you.

You pick up the novel that you’ve been reading and open it to your dog-eared page, hoping to stave off any unwanted conversation on the train. You were a woman, traveling alone, and would be considered a perfect target.

Although, if you were being honest…you sometimes wished you’d experience a real-life meet-cute. Strangers on a train, having a random yet perfectly meaningful conversation–kind of like the novels that you were into.

God, you were so lonely.

It’s been a while since you’ve been with someone. Admittedly, you were jealous of your friend and colleague, Youjin, who somehow manages to balance her romantic life with her post-grad work. She was an inherent social butterfly and had a talent for spinning literature from the middle ages into the most romantic, sensual talking points during her dates.

Sometimes, you wonder what it was like to kiss someone again. The feel of their lips brushing against yours. The problem was, you really didn’t get out much and didn’t see the point of forced efforts of socializing. You were typically hostile to any ‘pickup’ attempt. 

You glance across the aisle to find another woman who was animatedly chatting with a couple who sat in the row behind her. They were putting away their luggage when she strikes up a conversation with them after complimenting the woman’s outfit. She twirls her hair between her fingers while they trade travel stories.

She reminded you of Youjin. Her carefree laugh and confident demeanor were qualities that you thought most men found attractive–qualities that would make them naturally approach her. And you have noticed, some of the male passengers who pass her do not hesitate to give her a once-over.

When she was done with her conversation, she settles back into her seat. For a brief moment, she turned her head in your direction, saw you looking, and gave you a friendly smile. You smiled politely back at her before she turns her attention to her phone screen. 

You were not Youjin or this woman. You were an awkward bookworm who had only been on a total of one or two dates since starting your graduate program.

You put your book down carelessly on the table and shifted in your seat. Straightening your posture, you turn to glance wistfully at the view from the window and sighed.

…Maybe you could do something to change that.

After thinking about it some more, you decided that you would step out of your comfort zone and dare to engage with the next man who talks to you. The thought of it sounded ridiculous but you figured, good things happened to people who took chances.

You move your books aside to make some room. You look up and glance at other passengers who were still making their way through the car before the train departs the station.

Next, you see a man smiling and excitedly greeting everyone he passes in the aisle.

You pick up your novel again and duck your head. Too chatty, you thought. Please don’t sit here, you internally plead as you avoid eye contact.

Much to your relief, the chatty guy finds an empty spot adjacent to your seat with another woman who, like him, was an eager conversationalist.

Not far behind him was a man who looked very questionable to you. He carried his bag with him–both arms wrapped tightly around it, hugging securely against his chest as if someone was about to steal it.

He had a skittish look in his eyes that scared you. Again, you silently hoped he would sit somewhere else–which thankfully, he did.

The overhead announcement informs you that the train is leaving in two minutes. Your shoulders sag and put your book down again, feeling defeated.

Maybe it just wasn’t the time.

Seconds later, another man huffs down the aisle, dragging his bag along.

He was tall and dressed in all black–a leather jacket over a black hoodie and black pants. Dark strands fell loosely above his eye line. He raked his hair back with his fingers whilst scanning the car for any open seats.

Your heart raced a little as you attempted to subtly get his attention, inviting him to sit across from you.

He pauses and makes eye contact when he reaches your position. You nudge your books aside, beckoning him to have a seat.

“It’s free,” you say meekly.

Just when you think that he was about to settle in, he glances across the aisle and takes the open seat next to the woman who reminded you of Youjin.

Your heart sinks to your stomach just as the train pulls away from the platform.

******

The train is approaching its third stop when you start getting another call. 

“Hi, this is YN.” It was the moving company.

“Oh, hi! Thanks for calling me back.” You proceeded to clarify your new delivery address since you mistakenly entered the wrong unit number. The representative on the other line was understanding, updated their records, and assured you that your things would be delivered within two business days.

”Sounds good, thank you so much!” You signed off. After you hung up, your eyes wander across the aisle and notice that Youjin’s doppelgänger had gotten up from her seat to reclaim her bag from the overhead rack.

You smiled to yourself as it left the man in black all by his lonesome.

You silently watch her walk down the aisle, toward the exit. After she had gone, you turn your head and happen to lock eyes with him again.

You cracked a smile, which he returned this time. You couldn’t help but get all flustered. He was devastatingly cute. You wished that he would drop you a cheesy line or two.

A lightbulb goes off in your head–you could initiate the conversation.

Overcoming your anxiety, you open your mouth to say something to him but are startled when the skittish guy with the backpack gets up–completely agitated–then starts yelling at the person they’re sitting next to. He accuses them of trying to steal their stuff. Seconds after his outburst, he hurriedly walks further and took an empty seat several rows down from you.

You and the man in black look at each other and grimaced.

“Man, there must be something about trains. You never know what to expect,” he muses.

“I’m not gonna lie…that actually scared the shit out of me a little bit,” you remarked. You clutched your chest, your heart still beating fast at the strange man’s outburst.

His expression immediately changes to a look of concern. “Well, either way–I’m not the type to just sit around. I wouldn’t have allowed anything to happen to you,” the man in black replies.

Although you loved romantic novels, you thought that ‘blushing’ was such a clichéd, uninspired way to describe someone who was incredibly flustered. And yet here you were…blushing at this stranger’s remark.

You mouthed your thanks to him.

“Are you coming from one of the universities?” He asks.

“How’d you guess?”

He points his chin forward and gestures at your things. ”Uhm…that pile of academic-looking books next to you,” he chuckled.

“Oh,” you remark, now blushing in embarrassment. “Yeah,” you affirm. “Some of these are rare and I personally didn’t trust anyone else to transport them.”

He bobs his head in a nod at your explanation.

“So…what do you do for work?”

“I work in tech. I was just visiting our office down south.”

You nod, thinking about how else to keep this conversation going. “Are you on your way back home?”

“Not yet. I have a friend that I’m meeting up north. I don’t drive and…although I could have taken a plane up here, I figured, why not take the scenic route,” he shares.

“Ah,” your eyebrows lift in curiosity. He struck you as somebody from out of town so you thought you could recommend a local landmark or tourist spot. “There’s a great museum up in that area–I don’t know if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“Oh, I know,” he responds. “It’s primarily why I’m going up there.”

“Oh–I…thought you said that your friend lived there?”

He chuckles. “Eh, we went to university together and he said I could crash at his place. I took it as a window of opportunity.”

You nodded. Suddenly, you felt the conversation slipping away. In a panic, you think of another random but perfectly neutral topic to bring up.

“So–”

“What are–”

You both crack up when you speak at the same time. “Uhm, why don’t you go ahead,” he urged.

“So–what does that mean, exactly? That you work ‘in tech’? I feel like, people say that all the time but I’ve never fully grasped it. I just kind of nod along.”

“Well, I work for a company that targets advertising for social media sites.”

“Oh! So you work in advertising?”

He shook his head gently. “No, I work in tech,” he corrects you. “I handle a bunch of accounts for companies and help them direct their resources properly so they don’t waste their money. We run algorithms based on…”

…And now he’s completely lost you. It’s the same thing that happens when someone tries to explain TikTok and how you can customize your ‘FYP’ settings.

“Nice,” is all you say as politely.

“What about you? What do you do for work?” He queries.

“I’m a scholar. But if you want to get specific about it, I’m a medievalist.”

He stares at you blankly. “Right,” he comments.

It was a reaction that you were used to whenever you engaged with someone outside of your field of study. “In my line of work, there’s not much technology going on there,” you say dryly.

“Maybe because processors were too slow back in those times?” He counters.

You snorted at his dorky joke. You couldn’t help but feel flutters in the pit of your belly.

“I’m sorry…this angle is killing me,” he says, gesturing at his neck. It occurred to you that you were sitting across the aisle from each other, facing the same direction that the train was moving, so he had been craning his neck while he talked to you.

“Would you mind if I sat there?” He points to the empty space in front of you.

You try not to squeal or look too eager. “Oh, of course,” you smiled politely.

“Thanks.” He gets up and takes the seat across from you. Now, you were sitting face-to-face.

“There. That’s better,” he grins. “Where were we?” He asks, hoping to pick up your earlier conversation.

You laugh nervously and fidget with your book. “Gosh, I can’t remember now.” You were frazzled–he didn’t just look good from a distance. He was even more handsome up close. You were in big trouble.

“Actually,” you piped up, snapping out of your haze. “Can I ask you a random question?”

“Sure,” he answers.

“When you were coming down the aisle earlier–what made you decide to sit next to her when you had the option of the two seats?” You were referring to the woman who had just gotten off the train.

“Ah, well,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just prefer to sit facing in the direction the train is going. I have a small issue with motion sickness,” he confesses shyly.

Your chest twinges at his admission. At the same time, you feel a small sense of relief knowing that he wasn’t put off by you for whatever reason.

“Now you’re facing the opposite way,” you point out to him.

“Right, but I’m facing you so my little quirk can take a back seat.” He shrugged, “It’s not a big deal, you know. It’s not like it dominates my life or anything crazy like that.”

“Would you like to switch seats?” You offer kindly.

“Yes, I would love that. Thank you,” he immediately responds in relief. You both rise from your seats, sidestepping and shuffling in the aisle to switch places. The train hits an uneven part of the track knocking you off balance so you grab onto the first thing you could to keep yourself upright.

Your breath hitches when you cling onto his bicep and elbow. He had removed his leather jacket now and didn’t have that extra layer on him. You felt slightly inappropriate at the invasive but purely accidental contact with his body.

“S-sorry,” you mumble as you let go of him and carefully settle into the opposite seat.

“That’s okay, it happens,” he says in consolation. “Where are you traveling to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, I’m moving to my new place…which also happens to be really close to my hometown so my mom is coming to pick me up from the station to stay with her for a couple of days. It’s just until I get my stuff delivered,” you rationalized.

“You say that with a hint of anxiety,” he points out. You appreciate how perceptive he seems to be so you take that as your cue to open up a bit more.

“I enjoyed living far from her these last few years. And the idea of coming back home for a couple of days…” you inhale through clenched teeth, “It’s a little daunting. But don’t get me wrong–” you immediately add, “I love her…it’s just that I can only take her in small doses these days.”

He smiled in commiseration.

“Plus, she’s also in this phase where she’s given up watching TV or having WiFi.”

“What?” He says, clearly taken aback.

You giggled. “I don’t know. I think that she’s going through some mid-life crisis.”

“Damn…no WiFi? Sheesh,” he shook his head, thinking that he didn’t want to be in that same predicament.

“Yeah. Although, in doing all that–she’s recently focused her energy on the arts and other simple things. She paints, writes poetry, listens to talk radio…tends to her plants.”

“Wow,” he says, sounding impressed.

“And she also rediscovered the benefits of weed so–”

“Ahah,” he chuckled. “I knew there was a catch!”

Your mom always waxed poetic about how she used to be such a free spirit when she was younger. Maybe you could pick up a few pointers from her.

“That’s funny… She kind of sounds like my brother–minus all of the creative, artsy, mid-life renaissance parts.”

You laugh at the little bit of personal information that he shares with you.

“He’s like Snoop Dogg, Willie Nelson, and all of Woody Harrelson’s performances rolled into one…giant joint.”

“He sounds very interesting,” you laughed.

“Yeah, maybe he and your mom can link up,” he jokes.

You were pleased with how long you’d kept this conversation going. And you had to commend your social battery for staying strong!

“So…tell me about medievalism,” he says.

You chuckled at that. “Like, in one sentence?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

You roll your eyes subtly. “Of course you’d want an elevator pitch since you work in advertising.”

He clicked his teeth. “Tech. I work in tech,” he emphasizes while keeping his tone light.

You blew out a breath and shifted in your seat. “I don’t think I can explain what medievalism is in one train ride let alone one sentence.”

He nods in acquiescence. “I get it.”

“You seem to be the type who likes things that are straightforward. Kind of like a…’what you see is what you get’ kind of thing, right?”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

You hummed. “Well…I like things that take a bit more time to define. Things that can’t be easily explained. Things with multiple layers that you have to peel back, only to discover that there are more layers to uncover…more questions and answers that have yet to be revealed.”

“Kind of like an onion?”

You lift a shoulder. “Yeah, if you want to simplify it. Just like an onion.”

“Right but couldn’t you just cut right through the center of it? Get right to the point?”

You laughed. “Sure…but where’s the fun in that?”

He pursed his lips, leaned back against the seat, and nodded softly at your point.

“It’s like…” You clicked your teeth, trying to find the right metaphor for it. “It’s like this neverending prologue, you know?” Your expression softens. “Because once you begin reading a story…you know that the end is coming.”

“I’m the opposite, I guess,” he counters. “I’d like to think that I’m more practical and tend to see things from a logical perspective. What is this thing called, show me how it works; how does it fit into the big picture? I don’t think like a scholar. I prefer to know things that I can apply to my daily life.”

“That’s fair,” you say to him, acknowledging his point of view.

Then, after gathering up more courage, you tell him, “I’m really glad that you came to sit here with me.”

“Yeah?”

“Better than the other guy who looked like a murderer,” you say in jest.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Who?” Then his face visibly relaxes when remembers who you were referring to. He cranes his neck to take a peek at the guy who sat a few rows down from you.

When he turns his attention back to you, his expression darkened. He rests his elbows on the table, fingers steepled, while he leaned closer to you.

Squaring his jaw, he says, “I’ve got news for you, YN…you’ve made a fatal mistake.”

You recoil slightly. “Huh?”

He continued, his tone growing threatening. “I’m the murderer here. I’m sorry to tell you that this is a thriller and not the romance novel that you pictured.”

Your brows knit in utter confusion. Your pulse raised while you contemplated throwing your heavier, hard-bound books at him to defend yourself.

After a few beats of silence and intense eye contact, you see the corner of his mouth twitch. It effectively eased the tension and you both break into laughter.

“Holy shit, you should have seen your face,” he says in between cackles.

“Oh my–do not ever do that!” You were also relieved to find an even bigger nerd than you were.

After catching your breath, you switch tact. “By the way, how do you know my name?” 

“I kind of overheard your phone conversation earlier. Sorry,” he says apologetically. “I’m Namjoon.” You smile and shake his hand after he introduces himself.

“I didn’t realize that you were paying attention,” you say. 

“Yeah…I just…I don’t know,” he scrambled for an answer but failed.

“And who said anything about romance?” You cock an eyebrow at him and he turns sheepish.

Now it was his turn to look all flustered.

******

You don’t know how it happened but it’s been nearly three hours since you and Namjoon were completely lost in conversation. You bounced from one subject to another, rarely missing a beat. It felt so easy to talk to him. Presumptuous as it was, you felt a connection there.

The intercom announces that your stop was approaching in a few minutes. Hearing that takes you by surprise—and you also realize that you got so carried away that you forgot to call your mom to give her a heads-up on your arrival. 

Your face falters when you take your things, which he kindly offers to help gather. His expression turned sober as well, unsure how to move forward. His destination was still an hour away.

When this train ride began, all you hoped for was a random, real-life meet-cute. Then Namjoon came along and now you felt torn between wanting to live out some fantasy or pursuing this real-life thing…whatever this thing is.

“Well…uhm…i-it was really nice to meet you,” he stutters.

“Same,” you reply.

“You made the journey feel a lot shorter than usual.” Your cheeks warm at the compliment. 

There you were, face-to-face–lips pursed, looking like you were both trying to gauge each other’s thoughts.

And you didn’t know why, but all that confidence you felt earlier seemed to be slipping from your grasp. It occurred to you once more that this was real life, not a romance novel.

In the end, you would walk off this train feeling grateful that a guy like him had even taken a remote interest in you.

“I guess, I should be going now,” you muttered.

“Oh…y-yeah,” he stutters.

You get up and he follows suit. “Would you think it inappropriate if I were to give you a hug?” He asks.

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

With your consent, he opens his arms wide and wraps you in them. You inhale deeply, taking his scent in, further torturing yourself.

You both pull away reluctantly. With a heavy heart, you approached the car doors to wait for the train to slow into a halt…until the loud screeching of the breaks knocks some sense into you.

Did you really want to go through the rest of your life living vicariously through Youjin’s outrageous escapades?

It was now or never, you thought. You had to take a chance!

“Namjoon?” You turn around abruptly to face him again.

“Yeah?” He responds nervously.

“I never do this but–would you like to get off the train with me? We could get some coffee and…keep talking?” The words spill out of you a little too quickly.

You wait an agonizing few seconds for his response.

Then, his face breaks into the most boyish, absolutely knock-your-socks-off grin. He smiled so broadly that even when he relaxed his mouth, the creases of his dimples were still evident on his cheeks.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He stands up and hurriedly grabs his bag overhead and walks towards you. Smiling, he takes a few books off your hands and you both off-board the train. As soon as you step onto the platform together, it began to drizzle so you both run for cover.

You both laugh while watching the rain start to pour from the skies. You glance sideways at him to find him grinning while staring at you.

Asking him for coffee was already a huge step out of your comfort zone. But something about Namjoon–the connection you shared and how easy and natural everything felt.

As cheesy as it was, you decide to take another huge leap.

Seizing the moment, you say, “You ever wonder what it’s like to kiss in the rain?”

Without a word, he sets his things down. Oh no…you’ve royally screwed it up now. He looked like he might run off in the other direction. Mortified, you wished you could go back in time and take it all back.

But the rom-com gods were watching and they liked what they saw. They decide to throw you a bone.

He surprises you and takes steps backward– under the pouring rain. He was soaked in seconds.

He held his hands out to you and says, “C’mon, now’s our chance!”

Giggling, you clumsily throw your things next to his, run into his arms, and kiss him.

It was…just as perfect as you imagined it would be. You melted into the kiss, swept away by the sheer lushness of it. Your heart pounded fast, synchronized with the raindrops that pelted you.

His lips moved against yours at a soft and leisurely pace. That wasn’t to say they weren’t eager…because you surely felt it.

When you finally come up for air, you both laugh. You stood there drenched, with your foreheads pressed against each other’s and his arms securely wrapped around your waist.

It was the perfect ending to your romantic novel. …Or was this just the beginning?

Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @itdoesntmatterwhy @internetjunkdrawer @purplewhalewrites @yu-justme @joonschocochip @deepseavibez @majamarantha @yoongukie-ff

[boydepartment]

MY ONLY LOVE- Jake Sim x Reader: Ch. 5

description- y/n is an upcoming soloist in belift, she was previously in a disbanded group and the company decided to give her a chance. one day she runs into ex-boyfriend, jake sim, in the canteen. it was awkward and embarrassing and for weeks she tries to avoid him. you can’t avoid people forever though, especially when the company who gave her a chance tells her she has to fake date her ex boyfriend publicly.

genre- exes to lovers, fake dating, idol AU, romcom.

includes- enhypen, y/n (obviously), bahiyyih (kep1er), hikaru (kep1er), new jeans, different idol cameos (i.e probably mark lee, bangchan, etc)

WRITTEN CHAPTER- wc: 1.5k

warnings- the reader gets creeped on (nothing written it is just mentioned)

“FOLLOW UP MEETING!”

You sat there unaware of the events happening backstage. Meeting your fans was truly a blissful experience if there were more women in your crowd. You tried not to tense up anytime a man went to grab your hand or hand you a present. The only fansign you had previous to this was with your group, and safe to say, the fanbase was primarily women. This was a whole different field for you, your brain kept telling you not to be rude and just try your best to look happy with the compliments you were getting. All their eyes on you stressed you out. Around the end of the fansign your face hurt from trying to keep up your composure.

When you finally got backstage after waving to everyone you took a deep breath. You hated this. You hated the gross comments and perverted smiles the male fans gave you. You were thankful for the other people in the crowd who treated you like a human being, but it wasn’t a lot.

“Y/n!” You looked up and saw Bahiyyih running towards you. Soul not near her.

“What’s going on?” Your jaw slacked as she dragged you to another part of the building. Your confused eyes bouncing around the different area’s corridors. You swore you locked eyes with someone familiar.

Bahiyyih sat you down and started ranting and raving about Soul doing something. You just sat there, eyes welding up with tears. You finally got your solo career and yet, why does it feel this bad. Did your hard work really mean nothing? All your trials and tribulations led up to just being outright disrespected by people who were supposed to be your-

“Soul literally-“

“I am not Soul!” The voice said, your eyes looked up and locked with a very tall guy, his roots blond and the tips almost a black. You recognized him. He was from Enhypen, which meant-

“Y/n are you alright?” The guy knelt in front of you, Bahiyyih went to push him away from you but stopped when a couple tears fell from your eyes.

You blinked them back and looked down at your hand which was now automatically wiping your face, “I’m sorry I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

Just then two more bodies came into the room…

Soul and Jake…

“Y/n!” Soul rushed over to you. Jake not far behind him.

“Did someone say something to you?” Bahiyyih asked, sitting down next to you. Riki pulled Jake and Soul to the side, telling them to give you space.

You swallowed hard and looked down, “I-“

Before you could speak your manager ran into the room, “what happened?”

“I was disrespected the whole time…” You blinked as if you couldn’t believe what the past tortious two hours involved, “there were barely any respectful male fans and I just had to sit there…” Your manager nodded, listening and kneeling in front of you. He held your hand and tried to calm you down.

“I will talk to people about this alright? We will figure it out…”

You stared down at your hands, your manager got up and said something to your friends and part of-

“Wait.” You looked up and really looked at Jake and Riki, “what are you two doing here?”

Your manager looked at you, “you know them?”

Soul chuckled lightly and Bahiyyih glared at him.

“You can say that, yeah. I’ve known that one a little longer than anyone here.” Your hand rose lightly to point at Jake in the softest way possible. You were always taught that pointing was rude. Jake looked at you silently, the only thing showing emotion was the fact he was blinking rapidly. Maybe you were just emotional at the moment, but it was comforting in a sense that he still had that habit. Your manager nodded before rushing out. Presumably to get a car ready for you to leave.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked and took a tissue from Bahiyyih.

“Soul invited us!” Riki said and put his arm around your friend. Soul only glared at him in an accusatory manner.

Jake was still looking at you, it was like he had something to say but didn’t know how to word it. For both of you, a million things could be said. But before either of you could say anything, you were swept away by staff as Jake just sat there looking at you.

___

Right when you got back to the BeLift building, immediately you were called into a meeting. This scared you immensely. You just got this job, then had a mental breakdown after a fanmeet, everything about this was a recipe for disaster. You sat in the chair, waiting for your boss to talk to you. Your manager sat next to you and tried to keep calm as well. If you were out of a job, he was out of someone to manage. The room was tense, almost like they were cutting off the oxygen supply slowly and steadily.

When your boss sat down in front of you, he had a smile.

“It’s nice to see you again..!”

You forced a smile back, “very nice to see you too!”

He nodded and set down a folder in front of him, “I am going to cut right to the chase, if that is okay with you? I am busy and so are you.”

“Are you firing me?” You cringed at the thought, your manager tensing up too.

Your boss let out a small laugh, “nonono!” He sat up and looked at you, “I have a deal for you.” He stood up now and pulled up his laptop on the medium sized TV on the other side of the room.

“You see, we could kill two birds with one stone here! You have male fans that make you uncomfortable, no?”

You blinked slowly, “I-I do…”

“And our company has an issue with fans in general!” He pulled up a slide that showed various graphs and photos of tweets, trucks, statements, and more that you didn’t really have time to comprehend, “our idea is simple, you show that you have a public relationship with another idol in this section of the company and 1. Your male fans should lay off you, 2. The fans in general should start to lay off the fact their idols talk to other people.”

Your manager sat up, “so you want Y/n to fake date a random guy she doesn’t even know? You are putting her in a position where she is forced to be around a man she isn’t close with even when she had to sit through-“

“Ah no! You see, when you told us Y/n had friends to talk to after the fanmeet we found the perfect other candidate!” Your boss walked through the door and opened it, practically ushering someone in. You felt your heart stop when you saw it was Jake.

You had to fake date your ex-boyfriend.

“Jake?” You looked at him, he looked at you, almost frozen in place. You assumed they had already told him in a separate meeting. He was stiff when your boss sat him down next to you.

“The plan is, for you guys to go on little dates for a few months, we will let disbatch collect photos well as, sneaking them an insider tip to let them reveal your relationship by New Years.”

Your manager didn’t look too happy, “it’s September. You want them to fake date well into next year? This is immensely messed up, not just for them but also to their fans. This could be a disaster.”

“And if it isn’t a disaster, our boy groups won’t have to worry about not conversing with someone the opposite sex, and Y/n won’t have to deal with as many creepy male fans.” Your boss seemed sure of himself.

“I’ll do it.”

You looked over to Jake who had seemingly relaxed, his eyes focused on the PowerPoint, which now displayed photos of the protest trucks, and now things that were said about you from after the fanmeet. You didn’t want to read them, so you looked down.

“Y/n?” Your boss called up to you, you looked up and saw he was ushering a pen and paper, another contract. You read it over carefully, making sure it was everything he just went over. At the bottom of the page, you saw Jake had already signed it. When you looked over to him, he was looking at you, almost like the same way he did back when you were 16.

You grabbed the pen and signed it. If this is what protected you, and hopefully other people, then you might as well. How bad could this really be?

___

MASTERLIST

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a/n: i think i maybe made this chapter a little too intense for a romcom :( i really blame the minecraft music in the background! i couldn't help it! anyways, i really embarrassed myself in my online bio class so that's nice :( i also have a quiz tomorrow AND LITERALLY AN EXAM ON MONDAY! I FEEL SICK! i also have a doctors appointment tomorrow and i am really nervous. its for something that has been bothering me for the past couple years and i am just now getting looked at. so i am very scared, i will be okay though :0 i am posting this chapter the tomorrow morning so in the future lol. i hope tomorrow morning jayjay is feeling okay! anyways, remember to eat well today, i have been lacking in that department and need to get better at it.

[gayf1hoe]

Part 5

“Y/N, Y/N”, I open my eyes and whine with displeasure at being woken up by someone pounding on my door shouting my name. I manage to accumulate enough energy to get out of the bed and take a quick look in the mirror, my eyes still slightly red and puffy from spending half of the night crying into my pillow. I place my hand on the cold metal handle and pull the door open to reveal Zhou and Yuki standing at my door.

“You look rough” Zhou comment's, clearly displaying he hasn't had lessons In what to say when someone doesn't look well or happy.

I simply mutter my response “thanks I feel rough”.

After a brief moment of chatter they eventually tell me that they are here to drag me to the airport. We have 2 weeks until Baku and I agreed to go on a trip with them to China. And standing here looking at them with a pounding headache and chronic fatigue setting in I feel an impending sense of regret casting itself over me.

Reluctantly I pack my suitcase with their eager eyes fixated on my every move as they continue to ask me questions about what happened after I prematurely left the beach, but they know how stubborn I am and don't push on too much. Eventually I manage to finish packing my bag and walk out of the room and wait for Zhou and Yuki to follow behind me, closing the door behind them.

As we walk down the corridor and edge towards the stairs the voices from downstairs travel up and I can faintly hear the thick Monegasque accent of Charles and the indistinguishable Dutch accent of Max.

I lug my suitcase down the stairs with the help of Yuki who eventually sees that I am struggling and helps me carry it down the stairs where I see Charles and Max engrossed into a deep conversation in one of the corners of the reception area. I quickly return my key and then head outside to put my bag in the taxi and before I get into the taxi I hear someone saying my name behind me.

I turn to see Max walking down the marble steps.

“Can I talk to you quickly?” he asks.

I sigh and look into the car where Yuki and Zhou have fixated their gaze on me and Max, so I shut the door and walk over to a pillar and ask him what he wants.

“I just wanted to know where we are at?”

“I don't know Max, but I need break to clear my mind and forget about all of this for just a moment so I will see you Baku” as I finish my sentence I walk back over to the taxi and pull the handle to open the door and reveal Yuki and Zhou who have an inquisitive look etched on to their faces and immediately ask me what happened, I quite abrasively shrug off their comments and put my headphones in to avoid further interrogation.

The miles seem to fly by and we quickly arrive at the airport and because I got up late we have to frantically run through the terminal to the gate where our flight is already boarding, and we make it just in time, out of breath and sweating. We walk down the cabin aisle, people's eyes averting towards us making me feel self conscious but they are probably looking at us because we are the reason the plane has been held back, eventually I reach my seat and fasten my seat belt.

The best thing about sitting in first class is you get a little section to yourself but that still doesn't seem to stop Zhou coming and sitting next to me mid flight. By now Yuki has fallen asleep so Zhou decides to come and talk to me.

There is a spare seat next to me across the aisle so he preoccupies it whilst he's talking to me. Initially the conversation is light and jovial and then he brings up the topic everyone seems to cycle back to when talking to me, Max. But as he already knows the premise of mine and Max’s not so platonic relationship I suppose it's only fair he questions me.

“So why are you giving Max the cold shoulder?” he asks.

“Alessandro worked it out and I don't want to jeopardise mine or his career so I thinks it's best if we distance ourselves and let things settle before we go any further”

“But surely if you love him nothing else matters”

“I wish it was that simple Zhou but I love racing as well and if I create a media catastrophe no team will want me, not even Sauber, so I have to be on my best behaviour”.

After a while of talking Zhou heads back to his seat and I try to get some rest however all I can think about is Max. I can hear his voice echoing in my mind. I'm hoping that a week away from him will provide me with a chance to sort of erase him from my mind and clear my head of all thoughts about him.

I've never had a serious adult boyfriend, I had one when I was a teen but that was when I was infantile and the true meaning of love was just an alien thought in my adolescent mind. I had never experienced love, but with Max I think I am. It's such a strange feeling that is both warm and comforting but intimidating and scary. I have always cowered away from commitment and love because I never thought and still don't think I'm capable of it.

Racing is the only thing I have truly loved in my life but it's a different type of love, without racing I can't imagine where I would be.

But as the constant questions pace through my mind I do eventually manage to drift off to sleep for a while before the wheels touch down in Shanghai.

Disembarking the plane goes much smoother than boarding it and after we collect our luggage from the crowded baggage carousel we emerge into the rain and wind of Shanghai and even for March the rain is quite strong and heavy but Zhou informs me that this is normal for China.

Everything is written in Mandarin so me and Yuki are heavily reliant on Zhou to navigate us around this country and he eventually flags down a taxi and says something to him in Mandarin that I don't understand at all. But despite not speaking the same language the gentleman's demeanour is claiming and reassuring, he is a middle aged man with a bright smile I would expect to see on an outgoing teenager.

During our journey he points out lots of things and tries his best to explain them in English but Zhou helps translate and he tells us about all of the Iconic landscapes and best places to eat. It's also nice to see Zhou happy at being home, and I feel a sense of jealousy as I haven't been home or seen my family since before the season started as I had to move to Switzerland to be close to the factory and office which meant I had to leave my friends and family behind. But I suppose I'm lucky that Ollie is in F2 and a Ferrari reserve and I get to see him quite a lot at the races. When I first met him I always thought he would make it to F1 before me, and as he is apart of the Ferrari Academy I was almost sure he would, but instead it was me who only had 1 year in F2 and a few drives as a development driver for a team at the bottom of the grid, however I see the irony that I have joined a team that is (was) at the bottom of the grid.

I do reminisce about my days as a development driver for Williams. I always had great fun, I got to drive cars and not have to worry about coming first and scoring points all I had to do was provide feedback and that was it. When I first joined the Wiliams development program everyone thought I would debut for Wiliams, they had already started creating contracts for me but if truth be told I could never see myself in a Williams or a Mercedes, I don't have a so called “dream team” that I want to be in, making it to Formula 1 is my dream so I already have everything I want.

Zhou had booked an apartment for us to stay in rather than a hotel which is more convenient and private, as I initially step out of the car the smell of the local flowers that are starting to blossom as we approach springtime fills my nose.

The apartment is located on the outskirts of Shanghai away from the tumultuous scene of the bustling inner city and I'm grateful to be somewhere much quieter and peaceful for a change.

We quickly deposit our bags in the apartment and set off in search of something to preoccupy ourselves for the much needed week's break. Even though there has only been 3 races so far I'm pretty exhausted and doubt I can do another 18 races. I can't even begin to fathom how I'm going to find the energy to continue with the season, deal with Max and the media and look happy whilst doing all of it.

Zhou takes us to a place he used to visit as a child. It's an amusement park that has a whole host of games and rides. At first I'm apprehensive thinking about all the loud noises, screaming children and blaring music but as we arrive I feel my inner child coming out when I see the bright blinding colourful lights, stuffed animals and magnificent rides and roller-coasters.

We start with the very first thing we see when we walk in which is the ring toss which Yuki fails at miserably.  Zhou and I manage to get all of them and together we win a massive stuffed panda, and we have no idea how we are going to walk around with it.

The evening completely makes me forget about Max, that is until I see a passer by drinking a Red Bull and my mind instantly thinks of Max. It's like he has an inescapable hold on me that I can't seem to escape no matter how far away we are from each other and it makes me feel pathetic and stupid.

Yuki and Zhou try their best to make me happy but nothing seems to really work, when I'm in this depressive mood the only person who's ever made made me happy is Ollie but he's in Baku already and I don't want to disturb him even though he said “you can always call me, I will always answer no matter what”.

The past 6 days have been great, I have managed to regain some happiness and confidence and I have regained enough energy to continue on until the next break.

As I'm sitting on the plane I'm looking forward to Baku not only because I love the track but also because it will be my first ever F1 sprint. My phone is full of messages, emails and calls from loads of people but I have ignored all forms of social media and commutation, I just needed time away from racing and the media to fully relax.

But as the wheels screech against the runway in Azerbaijan the world of racing comes racing back towards me and the pressures of it are once again back on my shoulders. Me, Yuki and Zhou step out of the airport and there are lots of paparazzi flashing their camera lights in our faces and asking question after question, but they are all speaking over each other it's all so incoherent. Eventually we push past them all and get into the cars and all I can say is:

“I really haven't missed this”

The other two simply let out a little chuckle.

I feel my phone vibrate again and see that it's from Alessandro telling me that I have to check in at the hotel and then head to the garage for a meeting before sprint qualifying tomorrow.

As I look up from my phone I see Zhou turn to me as he has also seen the message and we both laugh at each other's displeasure.

We arrive at the hotel which doesn't look much like a hotel more like a big house but as we walk through the doors it shocks me at how beautiful it is. I collect my room key from reception and walk up to my room to drop off my suitcase and slightly unpack and then head downstairs to reconvene with Zhou to head to the track.

We both sit in the car and he then starts up a conversation I was hoping to avoid.

“So do you think you will see Max?”.

“Hopefully not” I reply.

“Why not?” He asks.

“Because I have no idea what I'm going to say or do?”

“You will be fine you will think of something”

Arriving we head to our garage and as its media day the paddock is flooded by people. The meeting flies by and then I head to the studio to talk about the team's hopes for this weekend and as I walk in I see a space next to Max, but pretend I haven't seen anything and walk over to Lance to sit next to him. And wait for the interview to get underway.

When it starts a lot of the questions are aimed at poor Max asking about Red Bulls falling from the top of the constructors and I can tell he's getting increasingly annoyed with the questions so when the questions come to me I can tell he's relieved.

“So Y/N you went away for 6 days with no media interaction or anything, why was that?”  is her first question.

“Well I needed time to relax and compose myself and just evaluate the first 3 races, I was quite tired and overwhelmed from the first few races of the season so I just needed that time to take a step back for my own wellbeing”

“So going into this weekend what are Saubers plans for the sprint and the grand prix?”

“Well of course maximise our performance and points and ensure we achieve a good result”.

The questions seem to be never ending by eventually she does finish allowing us all to escape. I walk back to my garage and collect my belongings and head back to the hotel where I spend the whole evening doing absolutely nothing apart from binge watching TV and falling back into a bottomless pit of self wallow and depression after seeing Max again.

Waking up on the day of sprint qualifying I don't feel the eager emotions I expected before my first ever sprint race. I quickly get dressed and decide to walk the 15 minutes to the track and arrive a little late which ends in me receiving a lecture from my engineer but I don't really pay attention.

FP1 And FP2 fly by and before I know it it's sprint qualifying and I'm determined to get pole.

SQ1 and SQ2 go perfect. I'm in P1 and as SQ3 begins It's starts to rain so I have to box for the inters.

My first lap on the inters goes horrifically and I set a time of 2 minutes and 12 seconds which is appalling so I push more than ever and pray I stay on the track.

I'm the last one to cross the line and nervously await the result:.

“Y/N Pole Position the top 5 is yourself, Norris, Sainz, Verstappen and Zhou.”

I am incredibly excited and can't believe that in my first F1 sprint race I am on Pole Position.

And as I'm sitting at the start line waiting in anticipation for the Red lights to go out I still can't believe I'm on Pole.

As the 5 lights go out the instant kick of adrenaline hits me and I see Lando begin to fall behind in my rear view mirror and see a bright red Ferrari appear.

I manage to maintain my position throughout and can't believe I have won a sprint race and by the sound of it neither can my engineer.

“Y/N P1 great result. P2 Hamilton. P3 Verstappen. P4 Zhou. P5 Alonso.”

As we arrive in Parc Ferme I jump out of my car and hug Lewis and without thinking I hug Max and there is an element of awkwardness but I run over to my team to escape it.

After the podium ceremony there is much time for jubilation as we have to get ready for qualifying for the Grand Prix Tomorrow, but I'm exhausted so I don't have too much hope for qualifying.

To my genuine surprise I get P4 behind Lewis who is on Pole and Max, Checo and Carlos.

The team all go for dinner at a nearby restaurant and we all have a great time but are conscious of the time and getting enough sleep for the race tomorrow so at around 10 PM we head back to the hotel.

The night before a race I like to keep a routine however it is disrupted by a knock on the door. I go over the door and open it and when I do I am greeted by Ollie who is smiling ecstatically and he lunges himself to embrace me in a hug before I can even say hello.

I quickly learn he is staying at this hotel as well but because I have been in such a rush the past 3 days with media day, the sprint race and both qualifying sessions I haven't had a chance to even ask him where he is staying.

This of course means that I go to bed much later than expected as I spend ages catching up with Ollie and ask how his racing has been going but all he's interested in is the fastest new report about me and Max.

But I myself haven't got the first clue about what's going on between me and Max so it's a little difficult to provide him with an accurate and true update.

When I tell him about how everything I see reminds me off him, and hoe I can't stop thinking about him constantly he just laughs and says “You're in love” which isn't very helpful because I could have told him that for the offset, I just need him to give me advice or confidence to do something about it.

At around midnight Ollie heads back to his room and I try to get some rest for the race tomorrow.

The paddock on race day has a feeling and atmosphere that's indescribable. It's a mix  of encouragement, excitement and eagerness from the fans but it's also nervousness, anticipation and enthusiasm from the drivers and these feelings seem to entwine to create a questionable atmosphere that plagues every race.

I take a quick glance at my car as it Is in its position in the number four spot and being this far back from the start line is painful but I only have myself to blame.

As the lights go out I get quite a good start and I manage to squeeze past the Ferrari of Carlos and set my eyes on Checo who puts up a much greater fight than Carlos did. I take 12 laps to get past him and then set my eyes on the biggest problem in my life: Max.

I push my car to its limits, I use all of my ERS and it's barely enough to keep him within DRS rage however at one of the corners he runs wide and loses a little bit of time which means I can get past him.

And after another 5 laps my team calls me in and the worst thing that could happen, happens.

It takes them 13.5 seconds to complete the Pit stop. When I first joined the team I made Alessandro promise me that there would be no terrible pit stops but it appears to have happened and thanks to that I got onto the grid in 9th.

For the rest of the race I'm fighting for positions and the image of a podium finish is now out of mind.

I manage to cross the line in sixth which isn't bad but it isn't good either.

“Y/N P6  good job, Zhou P5”

“No, that was a shit performance. What took so long with the pit stop? Why did it take so long to change 4 tires when other teams managed to do it in about 2 seconds. It's a joke”

“Y/N let's talk about this in the meeting, Not on radio”

“No let's talk now, tell me how we did such a shit job”

“Y/N calm down, go to cool down mode and bring the car to parc ferme after the cool down lap”

As I pull into Parc ferme I don't go over to the team. Instead I head to my room and throw off my helmet and balaclava and get out of my race suit.

I sit down on the chair in the corner of my room and try to take a moment to debrief, when there is a knock on my door.

I reluctantly get up and open the door to reveal an out of breath and sweating Max. I quickly invite him on and offer him water because I know if Alessandro sees him he will hit the roof. I then take a seat and ask him what he's doing here.

“I came to tell you that you should be proud of yourself, I know coming sixth is awful but you did your best in the circumstances so try to not to beat yourself up about it” he says kneeling down in front of me.

“Thanks I guess I did get pretty angry at my engineer”

“I know they were replying your drivers radio in the cool down room”

“Great,” I reply.

Me and Max just gaze into each other's eyes and get lost and then all of a sudden we are both leaning in causing our lips to connect and turn into a passionate moment of making out before I tell Max he has to go to the podium.

“Only if you come,” he says.

Even though I don't want to, I remember back to the times where even though he didn't win Max watched me on the podium so I feel obliged to say yes so we both stand up and sneak out the back of my garage to avoid being seen.

[thisismeracing]

ok so since i had dance practice today

mick and hamilton!reader would absolutely be the types to dance in the kitchen

waltzing would be their sleepy, i want to touch you but also dance but also im dead on my feet but still want to dance

and since salsa requires more energy to at would be their we’re making lunch but the food needs to sit in the pan for a bit and we have the space and time to be wrapped up in each other dance

i think they wouldnt dance in public at first cause they want this to just be their thing before its something the world knows

but one day on the paddock someone accidentally connects to a bluetooth speaker and one of their salsa songs come son and before anyone knows it mick has pulled hamilton reader close and they are in their own world salsa-ing around

everyone is like where is this music coming from and why is it so loud??? and then they turn their heads towards them two and they just watch in stunned silence and adoration

lewis is a smiling wideeeeeeee cause thats his sister!!!!! and her man treats her so welllllll

[sidebar: lewis was the one to teach hamilton!reader the waltz, but reader and mick learned the salsa by themselves]

the engineer’s phone who was desperately trying to disconnect let the song run cause they arent going to take away this moment from them

and at the end the surrounding garages give a round of applause

(maybe lewis pulls him aside later and jokingly, but not really, and gives him his blessing and he better see a ring on his sisters ring soon. mick totally isnt shitting bricks when he says that and then reader, unknowingly saves him from her brother to take him away cause its time to go home)

☕️

first of all, it's so cool you dance!!! I love it <3

second, yes, hamilton!reader and mick would totally dance, they have their own playlist after all, we should expect something like this from these two. They would waltz to the piano version of King of my heart, Mick just got home from sim work, and Yn is super tired and had just gotten home too, she's putting something together for dinner, and their shared playlist just ended, so now Spotify is playing similar stuff, and for some reason, it started playing the piano version of their song. Mick, who had just reached the kitchen door, hugged her tight, kissing her temple, and relaxing with her scent and touch. It was seconds, and they were still hugging so one of them casually started to move, and the other followed, and then they were just quietly dancing in each other's arms.

It would take a bit for them to get the hang of Salsa, but it was so much fun to learn with each other. They would share some tutorials, and their algorithm would help by suggesting salsa songs and TikToks. She would make fun of him, but also encourage him - get this right and I'm kissing you on the lips, one step wrong the kiss is on the cheek, and so on, all while in the kitchen. Some days they would move the sessions to the living room, dragging the coffee table to the corner of the room, and just having their fun. Angie would bark here and there especially when they would laugh, she would love to watch those two.

OMG OMG But the look they would share the second the music started playing, silently deciding if they would dance to this or just pretend it wasn't happening, but then Mick was grabbing her hand, and it started small, just one foot here, other there, but then you were dancing for real, and the whole time they were smiling at each other, eyes never leaving the other.

Lewis is the proud brother, and he would totally snap a small video of it (that thing about having a shared folder with Gina), whereas he's also the protective brother so yeah, he would tell how happier reader seems to be and how Yn happy means he's happy too, and meanwhile Mick is just nodding unaware of this is going, sipping his coffee, and watching Lewis go through his salad, at this point, Lewis is more talking than eating his food. And then boom, he asks when he'll be seeing a ring on her finger, and Mick chokes on his coffee, gulps at the tricky situation, and before he can confess to Lewis that he, in fact, got his mom's ring just a few weeks back, but he would probably wait a bit, Yn barges into the room laughing with Bono and Mick breaths in relief.

Side note: I am in love with all your hamilton!reader thots <3 the way you got them is just *chef kiss*

King of My Heart Masterlist

[changingplumbob]

Tell us your 3 fave OC ships and the song(s) or other media you associate with them. They can be your own OCs or the OCs of someone else (it's more fun if you include someone else!) Pass this on to 3 others (on or off anon) and let's keep the game going!

Strap in folks! Somebody asked me to talk about love (my favourite thing after cats) so I'm going to go for it! I'm going to do 3 ships of other simmers (I'm afraid I won't say what media I associate with these as I don't want to misrepresent any characters) and 3 ships of my sims because "Hang the code! And hang the rules! They're more like guidelines anyway" (yes, Pirates of the Caribbean is still going around in my head)

Other's Amazing OC 🚢 (so hard to pick)

Vlad and Ji Ho by @satureja13. I am a big fan of romance that takes its time and these two fit that. Check out their writing if you haven't already as there are several sweet couples trying to find their way in the world. If you're searching for a song for them well... the story pieces come with music to get you in the headspace.

2. Victor and Yuri by @stargazer-sims. I've only just met these two recently but I love them already. To me true couples support each other, and the devotion these two have for one another is shown in the writing.

3. Excuse me while I do 3 for number 3 because I'm indecisive. Zinnia and Momo by @belsasim. Young love is adorable! Who knows what these two have ahead but I'm excited to see how it goes. Erick and Noemi by @matchalovertrait. I love a couple that cheer on each other's dreams, and these two do that. REDACTED and REDACTED by @simmerbeans. The 7th generation is so sweet and that's all I'll say because no spoilers here!

My Beloved OC 🚢

Reece and Samir. I love these two because they communicate with each other. It drives me insane when couples go through problems created by not just sitting down and having a proper conversation. Yes they're on the spicy end of the spectrum, I wrote a mini TedTalk for @daedriyth about why, but beyond the spice they are pretty damn devoted to each other.

Song: Suburban Legends by Taylor Swift because I listened to it loads when writing them actually getting together so in my head, there's a connection.

I didn't come here to make friends We were born to be suburban legends When you hold me, it holds me together And you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

2. Rahul and Cassandra. Rahul came along and showed Cassandra a life beyond the expectations of being part of the Goth family. They have moved to the country and together are working on raising their kids (and still want more kids). Rahul wants to give Cassandra the large loving family that neither of them felt they had growing up.

Song: Beautiful Day by Joshua Radin because the it sounds like them. It's about connecting back to nature, shrugging off the negative, and making a peaceful home where you are.

Gonna climb that hill behind my house See what this place is all about Cause from above it all, you can't help but say It's gonna be a beautiful day

3. Keira and Marta. Keira was getting over a teenage romance when she met Marta. The two clicked, Marta is a romantic and Keira has the soulmate aspiration. Marta may have an abusive ex but Keira has proposed and is longing to make a love nest with the girl who helps her feel good about herself.

Song: Meant To Be by Bebe Rexha ft. Florid Georgia Line because they took their time when they started their relationship. Keira was still very new at dating and Marta was wary after it took her so long to realise her ex Liam was treating her like trash.

No need to go nowhere fast Let's enjoy right here where we at Who knows where this road is supposed to lead We got nothing but time

Happy Valentines Day from New Zealand