#i love her so much but i am such a tangle of the world's most confusing emotions right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ilwonuu · 10 months ago

Note

hi! can u req a joshua fluff (with smut haha) in which shua will surprise wife!y/n on her bday but y/n has bigger news (🤰).. thank u 🩷🩵

omg yes!! i love this idea sm!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST💖💖

▸ ִֶָ ⊹all for you. h. jisoo

summary- your husband wants to make your birthday the most memorable birthday you have ever had. he surprises you with a beautiful date night. but you have a bigger surprise;)

warnings- fluff with plot, smut with plot, lots of love (ew), pregnancy sex, unprotected sex, pet names(honey, my love, reader calls joshua shua a lot), dirty talk, oral fem receiving, breeding kink kinda???, creampie, lots and lots of affection, hoshi is mentioned a few times, happy marriage, lmk if i missed anything 😘

authors note- i made this way longer than i intended it to be bc i kinda got carried away. i hope there isn’t too many typos since i haven’t proof read it yet and stuff anyways thank you for reading<3

joshua always would go all out for your birthday. he would do anything he can do make sure you had the best day ever. you never had any worries about your birthday but this one was a little different. you had something important to talk to him about. it was that you guys are going to be parents. you know he will be happy with the news but there is a voice in the back of your head saying that this might ruin your birthday. you love your husband and he loves you but we’re you guys ready to have a baby?

you roll out of bed around 10 am seeing your husband is nowhere to be found in the bedroom. making your way to your bathroom to wash up. “shua?? where are you?” you yell loud enough for him to hear from the bathroom. “honey im in the kitchen! im making you breakfast in bed so go lay back down.” he says shouting back. you smile at his words complying with what he asked you to do. getting back into your shared comfy bed.

joshua comes into not to late after you do with a plate of pancakes, bacon,fruit, and your favorite coffee he makes for you. “happy birthday my beautiful wife. you deserve the world.” he says setting your food down on the table next to you bending down to pull you into a sweet kiss. “thank you shua. i really appreciate you.” you smile at him and grab your food. “and i love you so much. i have so many things planned for you today. you feeling up to it?” he asks sitting next to you on your bed. you nod eating your food. “i love you too.”

he kisses your cheek and steals a piece of your bacon. “can i have this?” he asks taking a bite. “shua you’re already eating it.” you laugh at him taking another bite of your pancakes. “i did good on this bacon. it tastes so good.” he smiles at you and kisses your face all over. “okay my love i was thinking we could go shopping a little bit and then we can come back and watch a movie then i can make you dinner. or we can go out to eat. whatever you would like honey.” he says giving sweet kisses against your neck. “mm that sounds so nice shua. you are too sweet to me.” you finish your food turning to pull him into a hug. “you deserve it beautiful. wanna go back to sleep for a little longer or should we start getting ready?” you get under the covers. “definitely more sleep.” you say pulling him to cuddle you. “of course honey. rest all you want we can get up when you want.” he say kissing you before closing his eyes nuzzling his face into your neck. you two both falling asleep tangled in eachothers arms.

—

you wake up a few hours later shifting slightly seeing a still asleep joshua. kissing his forehead slightly before heading to the bathroom. quickly peeing before coming back into your bed room. “mm honey are you ready to get up?” he says still with his eyes closed. “yes i am if you are shua.” he finally opens his eyes stretching slightly smiling at you. “okay honey we can shower real quick then we can leave to do your shopping.” you nod making your way to the bathroom with him slowly following behind you. shutting the door after you both. “come here my love.” he says pulling you into a hug kissing you softly. “you look so beautiful today honey. i can never get bored of looking at you.” he kisses down your jaw making his way down your neck. “mm shua that was cheesy.” you laugh moving your head a little so he can have a better angle. “you love it tho.” he lifts you to sit on the sink smiling at you while he pulls off his shirt. “you smell so good. i bet you’ll taste even better.” he smiles pecking your lips again. “can i?” he asks rubbing your thigh slightly. “hm can you what shua?” he laughs. “can i eat you out? i really want to make you feel good. then we can take a shower hm??” you nod slowly.

he smiles at you before kneeling in front on you slowly pulling your shorts and panties down in one quick movement. “my love you’re soaking. what have you been thinking about?” he looks up at you kissing your inner thighs. “y-you. i want you shua pl-“ he cuts you off by licking a long stripe up your slit humming against you. causing you hands to immediately go to his hair. “o-oh shua feels so good.” he smirks against you slowly inserting his tongue inside of you fucking it into you slightly. you tug on his hair slightly rougher this time throwing your head back in pleasure. “holy shit shua. p-please don’t stop.” and he doesn’t he continues his movements looking up at you through his eyelashes. slowly bringing his finger up to rub your clit. he is moaning into your pussy sending tingles down your spine. he is lost in eating you out. his face now having your arousal all over it.

his dick is now rock hard in his shorts as he watches your face change more and more with the pleasure he is giving you. “shua im gonna c-cum!” he continues watching you rubbing your clit faster feeling you clench around his tongue. you immediately release on his tongue moaning his name. he licks up all you cum before standing up and smiling at you. “i can never get enough of that my love. you taste amazing.” you still trying to catch your breath before moving to stand up. he pulls you into a sweet kiss. “see? you are so sweet.” he kisses your cheek. “lets shower hm?” he smiles before pulling both of your clothes off starting the water for the shower.

—

“shua i’m all ready to go!” you say making your way to your living room where he is waiting. he smiles at you. “you look beautiful honey. lets go.” he grabs your hand leading you guys out of the house and to his car.

the car ride to the mall was filled with you two singing the music that you wanted to play. “okay we have arrived!! lets go in.” he smiles getting out of your car making his way to your side to let you out. “my love.” he smiles grabbing your hand. “my shua.” you say laughing. “what store do you want to go in first?” he says as you two are hand and hand making your way into the mall.

—

what you didn’t know is that joshua had a surprise for you. he has asked the guys to help set up your house for the perfect movie and dinner night. and thats why he had you guys leave a little early to go shopping. joshua is somewhat nervous something will go wrong. causing him to be paranoid sending soonyoung a text.

joshua- are you guys almost done? y/n is getting tired of shopping she wants to come home soon.

soonyoung- yes! we have a few more things to do for your room like you asked and then we’ll be leaving.

joshua- oh thank god. thank you thank you. i appreciate you guys helping i owe you.

soonyoung- no problem. we love y/n she deserves a good day!!

joshua- love u😘

soonyoung- love u too 😨

soonyoung- tell me how she likes it!!!

“joshua? who are you texting?” you say smiling at him and his focused expression. “just soonyoung. him and the guys say happy birthday.” you make a sweet expression. “aw thats sweet. tell them i say thank you and that i love them.” “will do my love.” he smiles putting his phone away. “okay i’m thinking one more store then we can leave okay honey?” he says smiling before walking into another store with you.

—

soonyoung- we just finished! good luck bro tell me how it goes

“okay my love you ready to go?” you nod quickly. “please my feet hurt.” you say laughing as he puts you on his back running to the car. “joshua im heavy you better not drop me!” he laughs at you. “first of all you are nowhere near heavy and i would never drop my beautiful wife okay?” you roll your eyes at him. “you’re being so cheesy today.” he puts you down as you make it to the car. “once again i know you love it.” you scoff looking away from him. “okay maybe a little bit. but only a little!!” you say as he opens your car door for you. “come on my love lets get you home.” he says quickly starting the car to head back to your house.

you two arrive back noticing his mood changing slightly to a more nervous one. “you okay shua?” he smiles at you. “of course i just want you to have a good day.” “shua i am having the best day ever. you are treating me so well do not worry.” you rub his back. “i always worry because you deserve the best y/n.” “you are the best shua. you are the sweetest person i could ask for. you never have to worry you always make me feel so special.” you pull him into a kiss. “come on love lets go inside.” you say getting out the car following him into your house.

you walk into your home seeing all the rose pedals and candles lit. “joshua you didn’t have to do all this.” you look at him lovingly feeling him pull you in to hug him. “i know honey but like i said you deserve the best. i asked the guys to help with the decorations. do you like it?” he asks rubbing your back softly. “i love it joshie thank you.” he smiles. “okay my love have you decided if you wanna go out to dinner or have me cook?” “mm i don’t really feel like leaving again i would rather stay and have you cook for me if thats okay.” he kisses you sweetly. “of course my love. you hungry now or do you want to wait?” you think for a second. “i’m a little bit hungry now.” he nods kissing your forehead before making his way into the kitchen. “okay well you get comfortable i will start on dinner okay?” you nod smiling at him making your way to the couch.

you loved joshua. he is the best husband you could ever ask for. he was always this sweet. when you guys first started dating he was embarrassed about how much he would do for you. he would go out of his way to see you even when he barely had the time. joshua loved you and he had no doubt that he was gonna spend the rest of his life with you. when he asked you to marry him you were shocked but relieved that he felt the same way about how strong your love is. you had nothing to worry about with him. now you’re feeling a little uneasy. what if he isn’t ready to have kids with you? he knows that you guys have unprotected sex all the time. but sometimes he just doesn’t want to pull out. it was bound to happen right? how do you go about tell him? before dinner? after dinner? tomorrow? you’re all over the place. you took the pregnancy test just a couple of days ago. but last night you took another just to be sure and as they all said you were pregnant.

you turn on your tv pulling you away from your thoughts for a moment putting on a rom com for you and joshua to watch when he is done cooking. you get lost in the movie as you wait for the food to be done. “my love dinner is served.” he says bringing over a steak dinner he prepared. “shua it smells so good. thank you so much.” you smile at him as he sits down with his food next to you. “of course honey you know i’d do anything for you.” he kisses your forehead again before both of you begin to eat. you finish your food rather fast causing joshua to laugh. “you really were hungry hm my love.” he smiles finishing up his food shortly after. you nod moving closer to him.

“what do you want to do now my love? want to watch another movie? want a massage? i can make love to you. the choice is yours.” you shake your head. “actually um..i need to tell you something.” he shifts to look at you. “oh really? whats up my love you look nervous.”

you don’t look back at him. trying to figure out how to tell him. “um well uh i went the store the other night right and i grabbed a few things.” he nods showing you that he is listening to you closely. “u-uh so well i got a few pregnancy tests just to have them. and i took the tests just because i wanted to see what it would say. um joshua i’m pregnant.” he doesn’t take his eyes off you. not know what to say right away. “are you serious? we’re gonna have a baby?” he says immediately holding your stomach looking at you so happily. you nod tearing up slightly. “we’re gonna be parents.” you smile now crying a little bit. “oh my god??? we’re gonna be parents. you’re gonna be a mom! im gonna be a dad??” he pulls you into a kiss. “i love you so much. i cannot believe this. im so happy y/n. i wouldn’t want to experience this with anyone else.” he rubs your stomach softly. “you are gonna be the most gorgeous mommy.” he kisses you and pulls you onto his lap. “i was so nervous to tell you all day. i was scared you were gonna leave me or something when i told you.”

he shakes his head “my love you know i would never leave you in a million years. you’re stuck with me forever.” he kisses you deeply rubbing your side slightly. you start to grind your hips down onto him moaning slightly. “is making love to me still on the table?” you ask smirking slightly. “of course honey whatever you want i will give to you.” he pulls you into another kiss. this one seeming more desperate and rough causing you to moan slightly into the kiss. “mm lets go up to the bedroom so i can do this properly.” he lifts you up and takes you to the room. he lays you down on the bed gently climbing over you. “i can’t wait to see you with your baby bump. you’re gorgeous now but i know im gonna fall even deeper in love with you.” he says causing you to tear up again. “j-jesus joshua you’re gonna make me cry.” he wipes the tear that escapes your eye and kisses you cheek. “don’t cry my love. i mean what i said. you are everything to me. let me show you how much you mean to me.”

he slowly takes off both of your clothing. he trails kisses down your body making you whimper quietly. “mm honey i want to hear you okay? don’t hide from me. you sound so beautiful.” he says before kissing around your neck and chest.

“let me finger you so i don’t hurt you m’kay?” slowly gliding his finger over your slit.

joshua wasn’t huge but he was not anything close to small. you will never get used to how big his dick in no matter how many times you guys have had sex.

he slowly inserts a finger into you moaning as he feels how wet you are. “my pretty pretty girl. you look so gorgeous like this. i wanna look at you forever.”

you moan as he slides another finger into you gently as he kisses your nose. “mm shua please more. it feels so g-good.” your eyes rolling to the back of your head. he complies sliding a third finger into you kissing up your body again. “yea my love? you gonna make a mess on my fingers? do it honey i want you to make a mess for me. can you do that pretty?” he smiles moving some of your hair out of your face. you nod as he curls his fingers deeper inside you. hitting the spot you need him at most over and over. “s-shua i’m gonna cum.” he nods “yea honey? cum for me. i want to taste all of it my love.” he pulls you into a kiss slowly slipping his tongue into your mouth. that brought you over the edge. you clench around his fingers pulling away from the kiss releasing a loud moan. “mm thats it pretty. fuck you’re doing so well.” you immediately cum after hearing those words. he continues to fuck his fingers into you having you ride out your high.

pulling his fingers out shortly after to pull them up to his mouth and suck on them licking them clean. “you taste so fucking good every time. i could eat your cum for every meal if you’d let me.” you laugh at him slightly. “mm i could do the same for you.” he smiles slighting rubbing his dick along your folds. “you ready my pretty girl?”

you nod quickly looking down at where he is rubbing you. seeing he immediately starts pushing in slowly. his head is thrown back and his head is already sweaty causing hair to stick to his forehead. “fuck you are so tight still my love.” he watches you face as your fucked out expression turns into a more fucked out expression. he pushes in all the way bottoming out not beginning to move yet so you can adjust. “you okay honey? you’re taking me so well. “ he doesn’t take his eyes off of you and where you two are connected. “i-i’m okay shua. you can move.” he smiles before pulling out and slowly pushing back in causing him to release a few grunts. “s-shit you’re always so tight. i’m sorry baby im gonna cum so quick.” you just moan as you feel him thrust deeper inside of you.

“you’re so wet my love im sliding right in.” he says with his mouth falling open as he watches how he fucks you. sex has filled the room. the sound of your wetness, skin slapping, your high pitched moans, and joshuas deep grunts. “s-shua harder please.” he doesn’t say another word grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head fucking you deeper and harder. “like this?” he says cursing under his breath again. “y-yes fuck! oh my god you’re so deep shua i cant.” he groans again leaving more kisses on your body.

“you’re taking me so well my love. pretty pussy, pretty girl, everything about you is so. fucking. pretty.” he punctuates the words with a harder thrust each time.

“i’m c-close shua!” he moves his other hand down to open your legs wider. “shit honey me too im gonna fill you up. you want that? want me to fuck another baby into you?” you nod dumbly not being able to respond at this point. “you gonna cum pretty? i feel you clenching around me. feels so fucking good.” he throws his head back again feeling you release your juices onto his dick. “fuck yes my love. cum on my dick. make a mess all for me.” his dick twitches at his own words as he cums deep inside you.

fucking into you slowly as he calms down from his high. he pulls out a little after watching as his cum mixed with yours flows onto the bed. “look at you my pretty mess. fuck honey. you did so well for me.” you nod at him and sit up slightly feeling more cum drip out of you. “let me get something to clean you up my love.” he gets up pulling on his shorts heading into the bathroom to grab a rag. he wets it with warm water before making his way back into your room cleaning you up gently.

“you okay honey?” you hum. “never been better.” he finishes cleaning you up and grabs you a new pair of clothes handing it to you. “here you go honey let me change the sheets then we can lay down.

—

you didn’t realize that you fell asleep after you guys got back into bed after cleaning up. you wake up to see your lovely husband laying next to you. talking on the phone to who you assume is to be soonyoung or seokmin. “yea shes sleeping right now when she wakes- oh shes awake one second.” h shifts to you. “im so sorry honey did i wake you up? you were sleeping so peacefully.” you shake your head and smile. “its okay shua don’t worry.” he nods before pulling his phone from his ear putting it on speaker.

“soonyoung she can hear you say hello.” he says looking at you. “hi y/n!! happy birthday i hope you liked the decorations.” you smiled “yes i loved it so much. thank you guys for helping shua do that for me it means a lot.”

“no problem at all y/n we love you more than we love joshua!” you laugh slightly as you see your husband roll your eyes. “oh soonyoung i can tell you our news now that shes awake i didn’t want to tell you without her.” he is all smiley now excited to tell him what is gonna be in the next chapter of your life. “okay tell me!! are you guys moving into a new house?? what hurry up!!!” soonyoung says causing you both to laugh. “you want to tell him honey?” he says grabbing a hold of your hand. “yea. well you’re about to be uncle soonyoungie!” the line is silent for a second and then there is a loud scream. “Y/N YOURE PREGNANT OH MY GOD.”

“yes we are having a baby.” you smile at joshua to see that he is already looking at you with so much love in his eyes. “that is amazing you guys. im so happy for you. we need to throw a baby shower! got to go i need to start planning this!” he hangs up making you and joshua laugh at him again. he pulls you into his arms. “i love you so much. can’t wait to see you be the best mom ever.” he kisses you deeply not letting go of you for the rest of the night.

#seventeen #svt #svt fanfic #svt hard thoughts #svt imagines #svt smut #svt x reader #joshua #joshua seventeen #svt joshua #svt fluff #seventeen smut #joshua smut #hong jisoo

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queenofwands89 · 4 months ago

Text

Playing a Game

Summary: After being interrupted by their children during their only opportunity for intimacy after weeks without it, Negan and Y/n finally find some downtime.

Characters: Negan x reader (OC, Third Person)

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Reader slightly taking charge, Creampie, Almost getting caught doing the dirty, Kitchen Sex, Oral, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Swearing.

Word count: 3,104

Notes: A request from a fellow reader—my first one! I apologize for any typos; I didn't have much time to edit. After this, I doubt I'll accept any more requests because I'm working on an AU about Negan being a professional baseball player, which I'm very excited about. Enjoy byeeeee

As the morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, Y/n rolled over to face her husband, Negan. His handsome face was relaxed in sleep, his lips curled into a contented smile. She couldn't help but feel a rush of love for him, even after all these years of marriage.

Y/n reached out a hand and gently brushed her fingers through Negan's salt-and-pepper hair, relishing in the sensation. "Good morning, my love," she whispered, her voice filled with affection.

Negan stirred, his eyes fluttering open to meet Y/n's gaze. A mischievous smile formed on his lips as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Morning, beautiful," he replied, his voice husky with sleep. "Did I ever tell you how lucky I am to wake up next to you every day?"

Y/n laughed softly, the sound like music to Negan's ears. "You might have mentioned it a few times," she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

They lay in bed, exchanging tender words and stolen kisses, their conversation flowing seamlessly between jokes and heartfelt declarations of love. Y/n admired the way Negan looked at her, as if she was the most precious person in the world. And she felt the same way about him. Little by little, their gentle embrace turned into something more passionate. Y/n couldn't resist the magnetic pull she felt towards Negan, and she knew he felt the same way. Their love for each other was electric, each touch and caress igniting a fire that burned deep within them.

With a playful glint in her eyes, Y/n leaned in and whispered seductively in Negan's ear, "I think it's time we make the most of this morning, don't you?"

Negan's eyes darkened with desire as he captured Y/n's lips in a lingering kiss. Their bodies intertwined as their love for each other consumed them, their connection growing stronger with every pleasurable moment they shared. Letting his head rest back against the headboard, exposing his neck, Y/n nearly growled, her hand finding his throat.

"Fuck, baby," he choked out, his eyes growing wide.

Y/N leaned down and nipped at his ear, her hand slipping down his chest. He whimpered, much to her delight, and she gave in, kissing him hard and deep. Kissing her back just as eagerly, his hands tangled into her hair to hold her close, his hips lifting involuntarily to grind against her core. A loud noise from her throat, she began to slowly rock her waist back and forth against him, enjoying the way he hardened beneath her.

"Baby, fuck, that's my girl," Negan cooed, knowing the buttons to press, how to rev the engine just right.

Groaning loudly, she grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them above his head, smiling at the lack of restraint.

He was so easy.

"Whatcha doin', angel?" Negan purred, his mouth making its way down her neck.

"Showing you who's boss." Y/n smirked, biting her lips.

"Then show me."

Nipping at his bottom lip, she began to bounce up and down in his lap, holding his arms in place, refusing to let him touch her. It wasn't long before he was whining and wiggling around in protest.

Easy.

"Baby," he begged, beginning to lightly push back against her hands. "Baby, please..."

"Please what?" She asked breathlessly, lowering her waist and rocking it in a wide circle into him. He cussed sharply, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Please," a small exhale, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. "Please let me touch you."

Releasing his wrists, she squealed loudly in surprise as he flipped her over onto her back almost instantly, his fingers slipping along her thighs to reach under and tug her underwear down. All in one swift motion. "That was impressive." He giggled, placing her panties between his teeth for a moment and drawing breath from her lungs as his hand found where she needed him the most. Negan's fingers worked their magic, circling and teasing her clit until she was writhing with pleasure. He slipped a finger inside her, then two, curling them upwards to hit that spot that made her moan louder. Y/N’s legs trembled as Negan brought her closer and closer to the edge. She felt herself on the brink of an orgasm, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Just as she was about to tip over the edge, Negan pulled away, leaving her panting and desperate for more. "Not yet, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I want to make this last."

Y/N whimpered, her body begging for release. Negan chuckled and took off the rest of his clothes. He ran his fingers down her body and teased her nipples through her shirt. He grabbed her hips and pulled her up onto the bed. Y/N removed her shirt and slid her panties down, her wet pussy grinding against his hard cock. Negan let out a low growl as he felt her warmth. He grabbed her ass, guiding her onto his dick. Y/N let out a loud moan as she felt him enter her. She started to ride him, her tits bouncing in front of his face. Negan couldn't help but reach up and grab them, squeezing them roughly. Y/N let out another moan, throwing her head back in pleasure. Negan groaned as he felt Y/n's pussy clenching around his dick, her orgasm building. Just as y/n was about to cum, there was a loud knock on the door. "Mom! Dad! Are you up yet? We're hungry!"

Y/n and Negan froze, wide-eyed. Negan pulled out of Y/n, his dick still hard. They swiftly put on clothes after he helped her sit up. Just as they were finished putting their clothes on, their child burst into the room.

“Mommy are you okay? I heard you crying. Are you hurt, mommy?” Their daughter inquired, her expression filled with concern, as she appeared in the doorway.

“Ummm we were... We’re just playing a game, sweetheart,” Y/N reassured her daughter with a smile, relieved to have composed themselves after the close call.

“What kind of game?” their daughter asked curiously, jumping on the bed into her mom’s arms, ready for an explanation.

“It’s a new game called ‘Don’t Get Caught,” Negan winked at their daughter and planted a kiss on her head, acting as though nothing had happened. Y/n shook her head at her husband, always amazed at his ability to return to normalcy after doing something unholy.

Their daughter’s eyes widened. “Can I play too?” she asked excitedly.

Y/N and Negan shared a brief, tender glance, their expressions tinged with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. Y/N couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle in the awkward moment.

"Perhaps another time, darling," Y/N whispered as she gently pressed a loving kiss on their daughter's forehead, a smile playing on her lips. Their daughter nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Y/N and Negan locked eyes and burst into laughter, relieved that their close call had gone unnoticed. Y/n flopped back on the bed, emitting an embarrassed groan. "I can't believe that just happened! Oh my god, Negan, imagine if she had caught us! It would have been a nightmare!"

Negan let out a snort, shaking his head. "Well, thank fuck, she didn't catch us in the act. It would've scarred them for life." He flashed a mischievous grin, planted a kiss on y/n's head, and retreated to the bathroom to prepare for the day.

Y/N released a frustrated huff, shaking her head in disbelief. She adored her children and would do anything for them, but it had been weeks since she and Negan had been intimate. The morning's activities had been the closest she had come to an orgasm in weeks. Y/N gathered her thoughts and ventured downstairs to tend to their kids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After finishing his part in making the pancakes, Negan put his arms around his wife's waist and kissed her cheek, nuzzling his nose against it. Y/n leaned back into his embrace, a contented smile dancing on her lips. It was these simple, tender moments shared between them that made the chaos and joy of family life all the more beautiful.

"Damn baby," Negan slurred with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You sure know how to make my mouth water."

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile at her husband's playful banter. "Behave yourself, Negan. Or I might have to resort to an entirely different kind of bacon."

Negan winked, leaning in close to his wife with a devilish grin. "Oh, baby, you know how to get me all fired up!"

Y/n playfully swatted his arm before turning her attention back to her cooking. Negan chuckled, and turned his focus to his children. Sitting at the table with a playful smirk, his eyes glistening with amusement as he watched his three children chatter away.

"Joshua, I bet you can't eat all your bacon without using your hands!" Negan challenged his eldest son.

Joshua's eyes widened with excitement as he took up his father's challenge, using only his mouth to devour the crispy bacon. Liam and Daisy joined in with giggles and cheers, ecstatic to participate in their family's playful competition.

"Hey, Daisy, watch this - " Negan proclaimed, stuffing a piece of bacon in his mouth and imitating a cartoon character with exaggerated chewing motions.

Daisy broke into a fit of the giggles, clapping her hands with glee. "Daddy, that's so funny! Can we play again?"

Negan grinned, loving the interaction with his kids. "You got it, sweetheart. How about the first one to finish their bacon gets to choose the next breakfast menu?"

Daisy's face lit up with excitement, determined to win the challenge. Liam and Joshua joined in with gusto, racing to finish their bacon before their dad.

Finally getting the kids to calm down and eat after the challenge. Twenty minutes have passed. Y/n started tidying up as soon as the last breakfast plates were removed, realizing that they wouldn't have much time before school started. She glanced at the running clock before turning to face her children. "Alright, my little superheroes, time to put your breakfast superpowers on pause for a moment," Y/n announced, her voice carrying a playful yet firm tone. "We need to finish up soon if we're going to get ready for school."

Negan chimed in, his trademark smirk evident. "Yeah, c'mon, kiddos! The world needs your brains and brawn, but it also needs you to rock those school uniforms!"

Daisy, having finished her food, hopped off her chair with a mischievous grin. "I'll beat you all to the bathroom! Last one in has to put on the itchy sweater!"

Joshua chuckled and stood up, ready to accept the challenge. "Oh, you're on, Daisy! It's go time!"

As the children scampered off, engaged in their playful sibling rivalry, Y/n watched with a mix of amusement and gentle concern. Catching Negan's eye, she leaned in closer and spoke in a softer tone. "They may be having fun now, but we need to keep them on track," Y/n whispered, her eyes reflecting a hint of seriousness. "They need structure and routine to thrive."

Negan nodded, his playful demeanor melting into understanding. "You're right, baby. We'll make sure they get ready in time. But a little nurturing competition never hurt anyone, right?"

Y/n smiled, appreciating Negan's ability to match her playful spirit while understanding the importance of balance. "Absolutely. As long as we guide them and teach them responsibility along the way."

With their shared understanding, Y/n and Negan joined in the morning hustle, guiding their children through the morning routine while ensuring they left the house on time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long day, y/n was finally able to take some time for herself. Negan was upstairs, putting their kids to sleep. And she resolved to do something she had been craving all day: wash the dishes. Y/n put on her favorite latex gloves and began scrubbing the dishes. She couldn't help but feel satisfied as she watched the dirty dishes be cleaned. Negan came down the stairs and found Y/N in the kitchen washing dishes. Her body glistened under the soft light of the kitchen, and her curves were accentuated by the tight-fitting dress she wore. Negan leaned against the doorway, watching her as she moved around the kitchen, her ass swaying from side to side. He felt his dick stirring in his pants, and he knew he wanted to fuck her right then and there.

"What are you doing, Y/N?" Negan asked, his voice low and husky.

Y/N turned around, surprised to see Negan standing there. She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I'm just finishing up the dishes," she said, her voice soft and seductive. "Want to help?"

Negan raised an eyebrow at her.

"Help?" he repeated, a smirk playing on his lips. "I think I can think of something else we can do."

Y/N giggled, her cheeks flushing with excitement.

"Oh, really?" she asked, her voice dripping with curiosity. "What did you have in mind?"

Negan pushed himself away from the doorway and walked towards her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him.

"I was thinking we could finish our session," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

Y/N shivered with anticipation, her pussy already starting to get wet. She had been thinking about this all day, and she was ready to finally finish what they had started. Negan leaned down and kissed her, his lips soft and gentle against hers. Y/N opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth. She could feel his dick pressing against her, and she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

Negan broke the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Take off your dress," he commanded, his voice husky and commanding.

Y/N obeyed, slowly pulling her dress over her head. She stood there in front of him, her body bare and vulnerable. Negan's eyes roamed over her body, taking in every inch of her. He reached out and cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple. Y/N gasped, her pussy getting even wetter. With a hunger that burned in his gaze, Negan absorbed every detail of Y/n's presence. “You're so fucking beautiful, darling.”

Negan leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it hard. Y/N moaned, her hands reaching out to grab onto his shoulders. Negan's other hand reached down and cupped her pussy, his fingers sliding inside of her. Y/N moaned louder, her body shaking with pleasure. Negan pulled his fingers out of her and brought them to his mouth, sucking on them. "You taste so fucking good, Y/N," he said, his voice low and husky.

Y/N blushed, her body trembling with desire. She wanted him so bad, and she knew he wanted her too. Negan picked her up and carried her to the kitchen table, laying her down on it. He pulled her legs apart and knelt down between them. He leaned down and started licking her pussy, his tongue flicking over her clit. Y/n moaned, her hands reaching down to grab onto his hair. Negan started fingering her as he licked her pussy, his fingers sliding in and out of her. Y/N moaned louder and louder, her body shaking with pleasure. She could feel herself getting close to orgasm, and she knew she was going to cum hard.

Negan sensed it too, and he started licking and fingering her even faster. Y/N screamed, her body shaking with pleasure as she came hard. Negan kept licking and fingering her, making her cum again and again.

Finally, Y/N couldn't take it anymore, and she pushed Negan away. Negan stood up, his dick hard and ready. Y/N sat up and reached out, grabbing onto his dick. She started stroking it, her hand moving up and down his shaft. Negan moaned, his head thrown back in pleasure.

Y/N leaned down and took his dick in her mouth, sucking on it hard. Negan moaned louder, his hands reaching down to grab onto her head. Y/N sucked on his dick, her tongue swirling around the tip. Negan could feel himself getting close to orgasm, and he knew he was going to cum soon.

Y/N pulled his dick out of her mouth and stood up. She turned around and bent over the kitchen table, her ass in the air. Negan stepped forward, his dick pressing against her pussy. He grabbed onto her hips and started thrusting into her, hard and fast.

Y/N moaned, her hands reaching out to grab onto the table. Negan kept thrusting into her, his balls slapping against her ass. Y/N could feel herself getting close to orgasm again, and she knew this was going to be a good one.

Negan could feel it too, and he started thrusting into her even harder Y/N moaned as he filled her up, his dick hitting all the right spots. She loved the feeling of him inside her, taking control. She reached down and started playing with her clit, feeling herself getting closer and closer to orgasm.

Negan's thrusts became more erratic as he felt himself getting close. He reached around and grabbed y/n’s tits, squeezing them hard as he fucked her from behind. Y/n’s orgasm hit her hard, causing her to scream out in pleasure. Negan followed soon after, filling her up with his cum.

"Jesus…" Negan gasped, his voice heavy with emotion as he chuckled softly, pressing gentle kisses down Y/n's neck. He nuzzled his nose against her skin, savoring the warmth and intoxicating scent that enveloped him. "You're everything to me. You're my fucking world, baby," he whispered, his words laced with a raw honesty and profound love that filled the space between them.

In that intimate moment, with their bodies and hearts aligned in a dance of passion and tenderness, Negan's declaration reverberated with a depth of feeling that transcended mere words. Y/n felt his love wash over her like a tidal wave, engulfing her in a sea of warmth and adoration that left her breathless.

Tag: @scorpioempress

#negan smith #the walking dead #negan smut #fanfic #smut #fluff #Ngean x reader #negan fanfiction #twd negan #negan x you #negan x y/n #negan smith x reader #jeffrey dean morgan smut #jeffrey dean morgan #twd smut #negan au #Negan Smith AU

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deans-queen · 2 months ago

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I Remember It🧣

Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Reader has been thinking a lot about her past relationship with Jensen, and she wishes things could have ended differently

Inspired by the Song All Too Well (Taylor’s Version) bold/italic text: song lyrics

Warnings: language, light smut, emotional vulnerability, sexual themes.

Reader’s POV

It’s been months, but I still think about him every single day. Jensen Ackles—my Jensen—was everything I wanted. Until he wasn’t. I never thought we’d fall apart like this, that I’d be left holding pieces of a love so strong it could shatter me. But now here I am, sitting in my quiet apartment, listening to “All Too Well (Taylor’s Version)” and staring at the old scarf I wore the day we met.

“I left my scarf there, and you’ve still got it in your drawer even now…”

The words of Taylor’s song hit me right where it hurts the most. God, it was so stupidly perfect, the way we’d fallen for each other. I can still remember the way his hands felt on my body, his touch slow and deliberate, the way his lips would trace along my neck. The way he’d make me feel like I was the center of his world. He’d whisper things in my ear, dirty words that would set me on fire, make me crave him even more.

“Y/N, baby, you drive me wild…” he’d say, his voice low and husky, right before he’d kiss me, deep and consuming, pulling me into a world where nothing else existed but us.

And I gave everything to him. I wanted to drown in him, in his love, his touch, his passion. But looking back, maybe that was the problem. I gave him too much of myself, and he took it without realizing just how fragile I was. How fragile we both were.

“You call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest.”

God, how that line hits me every time. He didn’t mean to break me, but he did. One night, after another fight, he just… walked away. He said we needed space, that we were moving too fast. But what he really meant was that I wasn’t enough to keep him grounded, to keep him here.

My heart still aches when I think about the last time we were together. We had one of those rare moments where everything was perfect again. We were tangled up in the sheets, my body pressed against his, our breaths heavy and shallow. He whispered my name in that deep, raspy voice, his fingers tracing my curves like he was memorizing every inch of me. I kissed him then, slowly, letting him know I wasn’t ready to let go, that I would always want more.

His lips were soft against mine, tasting like the whiskey we’d been drinking. He bit my bottom lip gently, making me moan into his mouth, and then he chuckled. That low, sexy sound that used to make me melt. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice dark, teasing, the way he always did when he knew he had me.

I did. God, I loved it. I loved every second of being with him.

But I knew in that moment that it was slipping away. Even as we touched, as we kissed and lost ourselves in the heat of the moment, I could feel it—the distance growing between us. The way he would pull back, emotionally, even as his hands pulled me closer physically.

“And maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up.” I whisper the words to myself, feeling the tears burn my eyes. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe I was too much for him, and he wasn’t ready for all I had to give.

I wish I could say it didn’t still hurt, but it does. Every time I close my eyes, I see him, smell him, taste him. I remember the way his breath would catch when I touched him, the way he’d look at me like I was his entire world. And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

I wipe my tears and grab the scarf, pulling it to my chest. It still smells like him, faintly, like leather and cologne. I wonder if he ever thinks about me, if he ever regrets walking away. Does he still have my scarf? Does he ever pull it out of the drawer and think about what we could have been?

Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it, I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.

The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again. Loving Jensen changed me, broke me in ways I never expected. But I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret loving him, even if it still hurts like hell.

I close my eyes and lean back against the couch, the scarf wrapped tightly around my fingers, remembering the love that was once ours. And even though I wish things had ended differently, I can’t help but smile through the tears, because for a moment, I had him. I had him all too well.

It’s been weeks since I last thought of Jensen. Or at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. But deep down, I knew I never really let him go. The pain has softened into a dull ache, but it’s still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

I’m curled up on the couch, sipping coffee, wearing his old flannel—yeah, I know, pathetic—when I hear a knock at the door. My heart skips a beat. I’m not expecting anyone, and for a split second, I think maybe it’s Victoria. But when I open the door, I nearly drop my mug.

It’s him. Jensen, standing there, looking exactly the way I remember him. His piercing green eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly, I’m transported back to all those moments we shared. The nights filled with whispered promises, stolen kisses, and passion that felt too big for either of us to handle.

“Y/N,” he breathes my name like a prayer, his voice low and strained. I can see the weight of everything hanging between us, the words unsaid, the pain we caused each other. “I—I know I don’t deserve to be here, but I had to see you.”

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself from the whirlwind of emotions rushing in. “Why now, Jensen? After everything, why are you here?”

He steps closer, his eyes filled with regret. “I messed up. I know I hurt you, and it’s taken me too damn long to admit that. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—about us.”

My throat tightens, and I struggle to hold back the tears. “You walked away, Jensen. You left me here, broken. And now you just show up and expect what? For me to forget all of that?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture that once made me weak in the knees. “I know I can’t undo the past. I wish I could. But I need you to know, I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Part of me wants to slam the door in his face, tell him to leave and never come back. But another part—the part that still loves him, still aches for him—won’t let me.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He takes another step toward me, close enough that I can smell his familiar scent—leather, whiskey, and something distinctly Jensen. “Let me prove it to you,” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “Please, Y/N. Let me show you that I’m not going anywhere this time.”

I can’t help but look away, my heart hammering in my chest. The memories of him are overwhelming—the good, the bad, all of it. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But then I feel his fingers gently touch my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze.

“I never should have left you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You were everything to me, and I was too scared to admit it. I was an idiot, and I didn’t deserve you then. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I do now, if you’ll give me the chance.”

His lips hover close to mine, and despite every defense I’ve built, I can feel myself leaning into him. “Jensen…” I whisper, my voice breaking.

He closes the distance between us, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that’s both desperate and familiar. The world fades away, and all I can feel is him—his hands in my hair, his body pressing against mine, the heat between us igniting instantly. It’s like no time has passed, like we’ve been waiting for this moment all along.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes against my lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands slide down my back, gripping me possessively as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine. I moan softly, giving in to the fire that’s been burning in me for him all this time.

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts. “I want you, Y/N. I always have. I never stopped wanting you. But it’s not just that. I need you. I need us.”

His words make me tremble, and I know I’m already too far gone to push him away. I’ve wanted this—wanted him—for so long. But I can’t let him break me again. I need to be sure.

“You hurt me, Jensen,” I whisper, my voice shaking as the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over. “You left me, and I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

He cups my face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I know, baby. I know. And I swear to you, I will never hurt you like that again. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes—it’s too much. My defenses crumble, and before I can stop myself, I’m kissing him again, hard and desperate, like I’ve been starving for him all this time. He responds with equal intensity, his hands roaming my body, pulling me against him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

We stumble backward into my apartment, lips never breaking contact, and I’m lost in him again. Lost in the heat, the passion, the love that never really faded.

As we collapse onto the couch, his body pressing me into the cushions, I know this time it’s different. This time, he’s here to stay. And maybe—just maybe—we can pick up the pieces of what we lost.

“And I remember it all too well…”, and so does he.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story! It’s been in my drafts FOREVER, and I’m so glad I finally got the chance to post it. And also if this song doesn’t make you cry then are you even human ??? 😭Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

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Want to read more? Check out my other stories!

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passengerprincessblog · 11 days ago

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“Off Track” - pt 6 Franco x Reader

Summary: As Y/N’s guilt grows heavier, her attempts to balance her feelings for both Lewis and Franco spiral out of control. A tense encounter at the Vegas circuit leaves Lewis suspicious and possessive, while Franco’s presence only fuels the fire.

It had been a few days since I last texted Franco. I’d been avoiding it on purpose, partly to manage my own guilt, partly because I knew I was slipping into dangerous territory. The guilt sat heavy in my chest, mingling with confusion and that thrill I couldn’t shake. What kind of person was I, cheating on Lewis—Lewis, of all people? He was one of the most accomplished, disciplined, and admired men on the planet, and he loved me. And yet… I couldn’t get Franco out of my mind.

He’d texted me a few times, little messages that I hadn’t replied to.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Are you okay?”

“Look, if I did something wrong, please tell me.”

Each time, I’d felt a pang of guilt, tempted to reply but holding back. I knew Franco hadn’t done anything wrong; it was me who was tangled in my own emotions, who couldn’t let go of this secret, forbidden connection we shared.

Now, here I was in Vegas for race week, a city that hummed with energy and excitement. It was the perfect distraction, the perfect place to bury all my complicated feelings. Lewis had us checked into an opulent hotel suite, and I’d been surprised by how affectionate he’d been, almost overwhelming me with his attention. So much sex, intimacy, so many moments where he seemed to be trying to rekindle whatever spark he felt was slipping between us. And as much as I tried to reciprocate, part of me couldn’t stop thinking about Franco.

Today was Thursday, the calm before the chaos, with only the drivers and team members milling around the circuit before the crowds arrived. I found myself in the Mercedes hospitality area, chatting with a couple of women from the media, trying to keep up with the light conversation while sipping on my cappuccino. It was nice, a little taste of normalcy amidst all the jet-setting and high-stakes events that had come to define my life.

Then, my phone buzzed.

I glanced down, trying to hide my reaction as my stomach flipped with excitement. Franco.

“Hermosa, please tell me you are here?”

A smile crept onto my face, and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. What’s wrong with me? I scolded myself, forcing myself to stay composed with the others around. But I couldn’t resist. I quickly typed back.

“Yes, I am.”

His reply was almost instant.

“Where are you? Can we talk?”

I looked around, subtly checking my surroundings as I felt my heart beat faster. Could I really slip away? The thrill of it all bubbled up again, pushing aside the guilt. I responded without thinking.

“Yes. I can come to you. Where are you?”

“I’m in my driver’s room.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” I hit send, tucking my phone away as I stood up, trying to keep my expression neutral.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” I said to the girls. They nodded, barely noticing as they continued their conversation.

I made my way out of the Mercedes area, a slight skip in my step as I imagined seeing him again. It was ridiculous, the way he could make me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush, completely giddy and oblivious to the world around me. I turned a corner, lost in thought, and nearly collided with a solid wall of muscle—Lewis.

“Oh… sorry,” I stammered, slightly taken aback.

He gave me a curious look, his gaze sweeping over me, taking in the cheerfulness I couldn’t quite hide. “It’s okay, angel,” he said, smiling, though there was something searching in his eyes. “You just can’t get enough of me, huh?”

I forced a laugh, trying to sound casual, and started to step around him, but he turned, keeping pace with me. “Where are you going?” he asked, his tone light, but with a hint of something else underneath. “I was just coming to get you, silly.”

“Oh?” I said, slowing my pace, my mind racing as I tried to come up with an excuse. How am I going to get out of this?

“Yes,” he teased, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he started steering me in the opposite direction of Franco’s driver’s room. “I wanted some special Y/N time.”

I groaned softly. “Lewis… I wanted to go—”

“Go? Do what?” He stopped, turning to look at me with a raised eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly.

I felt my mind go blank. Think of something. “I was going to… like… you know… say hi to everyone.” The words came out awkwardly, and I mentally cringed. That’s what I came up with?

He tilted his head, his expression a mixture of amusement and suspicion. “Everyone? Who’s ‘everyone’?” he asked, sounding a little annoyed. “You don’t need to.”

I bit my lip, trying to think of a way to recover. “I was just going to say hi to Franco really quick.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I immediately regretted it.

“Franco?” he repeated, his tone tinged with confusion, as though he couldn’t fathom why I’d want to see him.

“Babe… Franco can wait,” he said firmly, tugging me gently down the hall toward his driver’s room.

“But—” I began, only to be interrupted by Toto, who approached us from the other end of the hallway.

“Y/N, keeping Lewis happy I see. Thank you,” Toto joked, giving me a friendly smile.

I laughed lightly, thankful for the distraction.

“Lewis, I need to talk to you quickly,” Toto said, nodding to him.

Lewis hesitated, glancing back at me with a look that was equal parts irritation and suspicion. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay?” he said, his tone softening as he turned to follow Toto.

I let out a small sigh of relief as I watched them walk away. Thank you, Toto, I thought to myself, grateful for the chance to slip away unnoticed. I quickly made my way to the Williams area, feeling a giddy excitement bubbling up once again.

The moment he was out of sight, a smile crept back onto my face. I headed down the pit lane, practically floating as I made my way towards Franco’s driver’s room. When I reached his door, I paused, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. I knocked softly, my heart pounding.

A few mechanics looked in my direction, quickly averting their gaze, and a pang of paranoia shot through me. What if people start talking? What if Lewis hears about this? But before I could worry further, the door opened, and Franco stood there.

Franco’s face lit up, his hair slightly messy, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “You’re very late,” he teased, his accent making the words sound softer, more inviting.

“Sorry…” I murmured, smiling shyly as I looked at him, at the lips I’d been dying to kiss.

“Come on, hermosa,” he whispered, taking my hand and pulling me inside, gently closing the door behind us.

I sat down on the couch, trying to control the smile that was threatening to break across my face. Franco watched me, his arms crossed, a playful smirk on his lips.

“You look happy to see me,” he said, mock-scolding. “Even though you haven’t texted me back.”

“I’m sorry… I just… I didn’t…” I stammered, not wanting to mention Lewis.

“It’s okay. I understand,” he said softly, sitting beside me, his tone forgiving.

We locked eyes, the tension between us thick and undeniable. He reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary.

“Te ves muy hermosa hoy,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, his gaze holding mine.

I smiled, unable to help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “Thank you… you look beautiful too,” I teased.

He chuckled, his face warming slightly, and we fell into easy conversation, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. After a few minutes, I found myself confiding in him about my argument with Lewis, the way he’d thrown things in my face that made me feel small, undeserving.

Franco listened, his face soft with understanding, but there was a flicker of something else—something like disappointment, as if he were seeing his idol in a different light. He offered sweet, reassuring words, but I could tell that he was quietly hurt to hear about that side of Lewis.

To lighten the mood, he pulled out his laptop, showing me some silly concepts for his race helmet. We laughed together, pointing out the ridiculous designs, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else. But just as I was starting to relax, the door swung open.

It was Lewis.

He stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over us, taking in the sight of us laughing together on the couch. There was a tension in his posture, an edge to his expression that made my heart race with anxiety.

“Lewis, you should see this,” Franco said quickly, turning his laptop around to show him the designs. Franco’s quick thinking saved us, but I could feel Lewis’s eyes on me, studying me, suspicion lurking beneath the surface.

He forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow. “That’s… interesting, I guess. Sure, do it,” he said to Franco, his tone dismissive. But his gaze remained fixed on me, a silent accusation in the intensity of his stare.

Franco, bless him, kept his cool, despite the subtle shift in Lewis’s mood. “Thanks, Lewis. I think I will,” he said, managing a casual smile. But I could feel the discomfort radiating from him, the tension that now crackled between the three of us, like a storm waiting to break.

Finally, Lewis turned his attention back to me, and his voice softened, but it didn’t feel kind. “You hungry, sweetheart?” His words dripped with an exaggerated sweetness, an extra layer of endearment that made me feel even more anxious. It was almost patronizing.

I nodded, barely able to meet his gaze as I stood up, feeling Franco’s eyes on me, almost as if he was silently getting annoyed at Lewis.

Lewis motioned toward the door, his hand resting at the small of my back, guiding me out with a possessive grip that felt more like a statement than affection. “Then let’s get you something to eat, my love,” he said, his tone gentle but laced with something darker, as though he were challenging me to argue.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, his arm slipped around my waist, pulling me closer. His grip was firmer than usual, his fingers pressing into my side as we walked down the hall.

“I thought I told you to wait in my driver’s room?” he murmured, his voice low, a hint of accusation creeping into his tone.

I swallowed, my stomach twisting with anxiety. “No? You just said you’d text me when you were done…” My voice came out softer than I intended, almost hesitant.

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “Fine. But… what the hell was that all about?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air between us like a knife.

“What?” I asked, forcing myself to keep my expression innocent, though my heart was pounding.

He looked at me, his gaze piercing, as though he were trying to see straight through me. “Don’t ‘what’ me, Y/N. You, sitting there laughing with Franco? Acting all… giggly?.”

I could feel my heart racing, panic clawing at my chest as I tried to think of a way to diffuse the tension. What am I supposed to say? “He just wanted to show me his helmet designs,” I stammered, shrugging as if it were nothing, forcing a casual tone that didn’t quite feel natural.

Lewis’s stare didn’t waver, his gaze intense as he tried to read every flicker of my expression. “Just don’t be in a room alone with him again,” he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for debate. It wasn’t a request; it was an order.

His arm tightened around me as we walked toward the Mercedes hospitality area, his grip almost possessive, like he was staking his claim. I could feel the tension rolling off him, the unspoken accusations simmering just beneath the surface. I could barely breathe under the weight of it, the silent message he was sending with every firm step he took.

Oh god… what am I going to do?

Next time …..

—————————————-

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Princess

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #lewis hamilton x reader #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic

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leah-lover · 8 months ago

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Love you always and forever. Mapi × Ingrid × reader.

Barca looses the champion's league. Reader blames her self and her loves concert her.

PS: this is my first fic. I hope you enjoy it.

After 90 minutes of running, chasing the ball, attacking, and shooting I disappointed my team. I am a striker, my job is to score but I didn't. Disappointed is not a word that would describe how I am feeling. Sat her in the grass, the Lyon team celebrating around me, I was numb. I wasn't crying or consoling my teammates. I was just sitting, ashamed, angry at myself, and sorry for the team and the fans. After a while of being alone, my best friends decided to join. First Alexia, then Frido. I didn't say a word to either of them. As soon as they sat next to me, I got up and went to sit on the sidelines. I was too ashamed to look them in the eye or talk to them. I stayed silent, my head in my hand until it was time to get the medals, the silver medals which will serve as a constant disappointment I caused the team. I , the so-called star striker, golden ticket, and role model to many, could not win the champion’s league for her team.

After getting out medals, I continued to dodge a particular duo I didn't want to see. So I went to the locker room, showered, changed and headed to the bus without looking or talking to anyone. I sat in the back of the bus which was getting fuller by the second. I didn't even realize when I fell asleep. I was awakened by a caress to my thigh by one of the women I loved most in this world, mapi. She, Ingrid and I, have been dating for 1 year now. They pretty much knew me and knew how to deal with me. So without a word, she took my hand and ushered me to the plane that was going to take us home. On the plane, on the car ride home and even when we were in our house, I didn't say a word, I couldn't not when I was one of the reasons our biggest dream was ruined. I stayed like that for the following day too. I didn't eat or talk, I only slept for hours on end.

On the second day after the loss, I was awakened by a kiss to my temple.

“Love, you need to wake up, it's getting late” said Ingrid running her hand on my cheek. Eyes still closed, I felt a tear running down my cheek. I couldn't hold it anymore. All the emotions were too much for me to handle on my own. “Sweetheart, I love you, we all do. The entire team, mapi and I are so thankful for you, your passion, dedication. You make me so proud you make Mapi soo proud. I love you more than any medal and any trophy.” said Ingrid as she held me closer to her chest while I cried. We stayed there for a moment before mapi came to join us in bed. “ All what Ingrid said is true. I love you always and forever.” she added, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I held on to her hands and pulled her in for a sweet and soft kiss. I then repositioned my body to Kay on mapi’s chest while Ingrid was lying on my stomach. “ I love you both more than life or anything it brings.” I said before pulling Ingrid in for another passionate kiss. We stayed tangled between each other, loving each other, and wishing time stopped and the world ended.

#woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #mapi leon #espwnt #ingrid engen #woso community #barca femeni #niamh charles #mary earps #alessia russo #ona batlle #magdalena eriksson

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darling-im-wonderstruck · 1 year ago

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you’re always gonna be mine ✧

request : “hello! could you please write something where peter is telling reader how he no longer remembers when he last called reader by her name bc he’s constantly using pet names and it’s all about young love and it’s just 🥺”

synopsis : late nights with peter never failed to put your heart at ease at the end of each long day. all your worries and doubts seem to disappear in his presence, including your fears about first loves (and first heartbreaks).

pairing : peter parker x reader

wc : 772

warnings : nothing worth warning ! mostly fluff, and the tiniest bit of angst if you squint ! + normal sized text below !

a/n : hii <3 it’s been so longgggg, i hope this fic makes you smile as much as it did for me ! would love to thank @strawberrystarcake, my beloved sister for the summary <;3 this and @parkerpeter24 + @toms-gf for encouraging me throughout the process and giving me their opinions (love you guyss) 💞 this was a request from my old blog that i only ended up writing now :’)

“random thought, but i honestly don’t remember when i started calling you babe instead of your name.” peter blurts out, seemingly out of nowhere.

it was late at night, you two were all snuggled up in bed, your head rested atop his chest, just about to take a well deserved good night’s rest. right now, he’s unbelievably adorable though. his eyes were halfway closed, his heartbeat steady, and he sported a soft smile on his face that you couldn’t help but return.

you two were basically tangled together, your right hand holding his right, your left gently playing with his hair.

“mm, i can relate. though, i do prefer using lovebug for you.” you smile, removing your hand from his hair and focusing your attention on playing with his hands instead.

“spiders aren’t technically bugs though, they’re arachnids.” he says, earning an eye roll from you.

“shut up.” you chuckled, causing his already present smile to widen.

“but, in all seriousness, i do love that pet name.”

“in all seriousness, i’m pretty sure that you’ll love anything i say.” you half joke, though, it’s honestly somewhat true.

“you’re right. it’s sort of concerning at this point.” he laughs softly. “wait a sec… is that my shirt?”

“you mean our shirt? yes.” you respond, a proud look on your face.

“well, it looks lovely on you, way better than it does on me.” he looks at you with pure admiration.

moments with peter like this were rare, and so you treasured them. moments of relaxation and peace, it seemed as if the world had gotten in the way of you and peter up until this point.

and you were scared.

scared that, it was some sort of sign. people say young love’s a loss or a lesson for a reason. but somewhere in you, you knew (hoped) that you two would be the exception. but being like this, with peter was what took all your doubt away, and where the doubt was, it was replaced with all the love you could ever give and hope for.

this, is where you always wanted to be. this is what you always wanted to feel.

a moment of silence followed, comfortable silence. just enjoying each other’s presense. god, you loved this.

“i love you.” you say, breaking the silence.

peter leans in, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he whispers, “i love you too. more than i could ever express with words.”

“you’re actually perfect.” you smile, gently tapping the tip of his nose, immediately causing a flush of bright pink to spread throughout his face. “my everything.” you add.

“you, my princess, are my entire world.”

you look down, causing a look of concern on peter’s face, “do you ever get scared?” you sigh, looking up, straight into his eyes.

“scared of…?”

“i dont know, just, this, all of this, going away?” you mumbled softly, but peter heard you, and most importantly, he understood you.

“well, if i’m being honest? yes. sometimes i am scared. i’m afraid that we’ll lose what we have because i feel like i have everything i need, here, with me, and the thought of losing it all? terrifying. but, i think that we’re,,, timeless in a way.”

“timeless?”

“timeless. i almost feel like, no matter what happens, we’re intertwined. i like to think that, at least. like, no matter what timeline, no matter how many years back or in the future, no matter the universe,” he chuckles softly, “you’re still mine and i’m still yours. i dont think that any possible version of me wouldn’t have fallen for you and i think you still wouldve fallen for me too. i mean, who wouldnt?” you giggled at that, softly hitting his arm.

“i guess those thoughts give me comfort, assurance, almost. ‘cause it tells me that, this,” he tightens his grip on your hands, “what we have, is something unbreakable and meant to be. besides, i’m not planning on leaving you anytime soon.” he shoots you a wink, which, you honestly found cute.

“y’know what? i don’t think i have much to worry about anymore.” you say slowly, looking up from peter’s chest to get a look of his face. the sight of his messy curls and skin illuminated by the moonlight from your window made your heart melt.

“oh?” he grins, making eye contact with you. “yeah, not when i have you. you always know what to say. and… you’re right, you still would’ve turned my head.”

a/n : thank you for reading loves ! i don’t allow any reposting if my work here, or on any other platforms. reblogs and feedback are very very much appreciated, luv you all ! requests are open xx

tagging a few of my mutuals ! (hope you guys don’t mind <3 i wont be tagging you guys every time tho ! just for now bc i dont really have a taglist yet) : @live-laugh-lovejoy @cagethemunson @saturnpeter@tomsholland2412 @jesslockwood @maraistookmyheart

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hcdragonwrites · 1 year ago

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Tangled Love

(A @semisolidmind Drabble)

Ok! I ran this by Semi before I posted just because I know absolutely nothing about LMK (except the animation can be so pretty!) just so I could get their characters down. I hope you all like it !

She just wanted to escape- both from this place and from her own mind tonight.

The ghosts of memories were walking and she had no distractions to chase them away.

Peaches walked the cool cavern halls of Water- Curtain Cave, her feet echoing in the depths. The sandals she wore and the ornamental clothing she had been thrown into made her scalp prickle and her skin itch. It was too much- but the attendants wouldn’t hear a thing about it.

She had to look the part of Queen.

Peaches, in the absence of the Lord of the mountain and his right hand and sword, was the remaining voice of authority.

To a point.

Finishing with courtly duties and listening in on behalf of her husbands wasn't a huge chore. The two of them rarely left at the same time however. If one was called away the other would remain. Or Peaches herself would be brought along.

This time however she hadn’t been.

It was the first time in ten years.

She had just this night- just this moment of reprieve and she would make the most of it. Or so she thought. Instead, she was fighting something that reared its head and struck her nerves like a asp.

However she wasn’t alone quite yet. As she rounded the corner and came to golden lacquered doors of her bedchamber - their bedchamber- she paused.

“Will that be all my queen?” One of the attending retinue of her guard asked. It was a guard her husbands insisted upon whenever both were away from home- a set of seven of the most battle scarred simians Peaches had ever seen.

They were tasked and sworn with following her everywhere - to the dining hall, to the throne room. If she wished to go and sit among the apple trees and listen to the wind play over the mountain grasses her guard would double in size. Peaches tried to not cause the denizens of Flower fruit mountain any more problems or stressors by going outside when both the King and his Brother in arms were away on a war path.

Her husbands.

It’s what they titled themselves now, after a decade of the terrible start they had on their relationship with her. When she had met the two, they had been just tiny monkeys. A sly looking ginger and gold monkey who had loved to cling to her arms and a dark black furred monkey that brought her fruits and almonds from the wild.

My sweet boys.

They had been her monkeys back then- the little prankster angels she had thought were just simple beasts, trying to survive out in the world.

She had been wrong.

The decision to upend her life, she guessed, had been floated around for months between the two disguised demons as they ate her fruit and enjoyed her touches. It was a mutual one that both had decided was the best option for her.

She took a steadying breath, coming back to the present. Peaches wanted a chance to be alone. Something so rare she craved it like a man in a desert craved water.

“Yes, general. I think I’ll retire early for the day.” She smiled at the monkey who dipped his body into a bow. The gleam of his armor set the flickers of a memory brewing. Fire in the trees, the smell of iron on the wind and a figure among the debris. She shook her head to dislodge it. The rest of them weren’t awful to her. Her husbands weren’t awful to her. They had just ….

Taken away her decisions.

“Very well Queen.” Peaches flinched, unable to quite stomach the title and what that truly meant. If I am queen then why am I without choices? “If you need us call us.”

She turned the handle in the door and slipped in side with as much grace as she could muster.

Peaches closed the ornamental doors to the bedroom, resting her head against the door. Steady. Deep breaths. In through her nose out through her mouth.

The illusion of a paradise that Wukong had built and Macaque helped facilitate always lost its color and believability when they were away. They couldn’t feed her the sugared lies and candied perceptions to tamp back the memories of that night.

It had been just another night on the small farm - a June night of heat and singing cicadas- of windows wide open and Peaches trying to escape that heat. There wasn’t much she could do to escape it. The moisture clung to her and made her bedding stick and clog her nose. So on these nights she stayed up, usually with a candle or the moon to illuminate her night, and read.

The knock on the door was not something typical.

The memory was rising and she couldn’t hold it back. I have to ride it out. Survive it.

Like she had survived that night. Getting visitors in the dead of the night had been unconventional- and she remembered the feeling of being perturbed. Don’t answer it, she told the memory. But this was the past and ghosts of the past didn’t change their course.

She had closed her book, had stepped down the hall to the door and had opened it.

I should have called through- told him to stay away! I should have never left my bed or my book.

It was a drunk man. A fellow farm hand called in for one of the families to help bring in a harvest that had proved too bountiful for the immediate family to handle. Peaches could see the man before her eyes, smell the reek of him.

A drunk.

“Well ain’t it the village spinster! Whaaa da pretty thing you are!” He was a cloud of bitter rice wine, of too much sake on his breath. The intensity of it had a physical effect on her memory and in the present, Peaches wrinkled her nose.

“You should go home Sir.” She had told him- tried to close the door.

His foot moved faster and his hands had caught the door.

A wild set of emotions swept through her. She had to sit her body down, thankful she had been able to get away from the other monkeys before the memory seized her like a vice. They would have been in a panic over her and she couldn’t let their little hearts worry so. There was nothing they could do to stop the remembering.

It was his fault this all happened. It was His. He didn’t have to be drunk and show up at my home- he didn’t have to shove his way into my house and try and grab me.

But he was just a single man. Did his actions warrant the destruction that happened next ?

“Get out!” Her memory self cried. The wooden table she danced behind as the drunk stumbled and moved towards her, was her only shield.

“The Boys Said you prefer the company of wild animals …” his speech was hard to hear. The wine had made him bold, stupid, and aroused it seemed. “I thought I would give you mtaste of what a real man was, since the villagers are al’ ‘fraid of your Witchery with monkeys.”

She had run- she had thrown her things at him. It was probably the commotion of her breaking a pitcher over his head that had alerted her monkeys. The loud clatter of the pottery across the floor had sounded so sharp and final. It had only made the man more determined.

The drunk when he did get his hands on her was furious. He swung a fist and sent stars into her eyes. Peaches had clung like a wildcat to her conscious, kicking out with legs and swinging with fists. Her nose was full of the sour smell of him- had felt his hands and fought them. A kick to his groin had sent him wheezing. Another fist to her head had Peaches crying. She had stared that drunk in his mean little eyes as he whispered the terrible things he wanted to do to her.

She had been staring in those eyes when he died.

He never got to touch more than her arms that night.

Peaches heard something step through the door that had been left open to the night. She had heard the creak of her house as something walked within it. And the sound of something- like a water skin being popped and a splash of warm liquid against her belly had shocked her.

The Drunks eyes went wide with confusion, rolling horselike in his head. His bruising grip on her wrist had let go. In the present, She rubbed those wrists, the phantom pains hard.

“..mah… belly.” The drunk had mumbled then belched a bucket of blood onto the floor. Peaches could see something protruding from his middle- something long and thin like a stick. Or a staff.

Clawed hands pulled the head back and twisted with a fury. The sound of bones breaking was loud, as if a fire was consuming dry wood. The drunk crumbled in those hands like a puppet cut free of its strings.

A new stranger stood in her home, his frame large and broad and most assuredly not human. He tossed the body like someone would toss a rag across the floor. The glowing eyes in the sudden dark were all she could see. Her mind, even in its heightened adrenaline drenched state, recognized the face pattern, saw a familiarity in the fur. There was, in fact, still a little flower tucked against this demonic creatures ear. The same flower she had interwoven in her forest friend's fur that afternoon.

“Your… your my…”

Nerves and the come down from the adrenaline high we’re making speech hard. The monkey demon before her, who’s eyes seemed to spit fire, softened. Just a bit.

“You are my Peaches.” Wukong said, touching her hair, her face, her hands. Taking stock. Then he had taken those limp hands and threaded them through his fur, trying to get them to grip. It would help his own rage and calm her fear. It was thick in the air, ruining the natural sweet smell she had. That and the slab of flesh on the floors own fetid death scent.

Wukong was not the best at this - this comfort thing. But he would rise to the occasion. He would try for her.

Fury and rage made his tail lash and the fur along his neck to stand on end.

At first she had just been a simple human that would leave little offerings to him and his brother in arms. An oddity here in the shadow of his mountain. Most humans around here feared the monkeys and kept away from all of them, having a legend that if one was harmed a great calamity would befall them.

Wukong didn’t mind being that calamity. These were his people, his subjects. So hearing the chatter from some of his kind that a women had begun to leave out gifts had of course spiked the Kings curiosity. The humans beneath Flower Fruit Mountain were his lesser subjects. So he had come down from the mountain, disguising himself as a smaller and more approachable sized monkey, to see the fuss his subjects had started gossiping about at groomings. Only to see his brother, Macaque, already being petted and tended and kissed on each of his six ears.

Of course first impressions had been terrible and Wukong, used to getting the first pick of everything, had come screeching into the clearing and demanding his own pets. It had set off a very small and very mock little battle between the two brothers in arms. One that had Peaches separating them and scolding them as she patched up the little scratches they had taken from eachother. They could have each resisted her pull but both decided that play acting a fight, even if it had started as a bit of one, was the best way to get attention divided between the both of them.

Wukong hadn’t expected to become infatuated. Her name didn’t matter to him- he had rebranded her almost the instant she came to him and offered a smile and held out a handful of sugar and dates. Peaches. After the Kings own favorite fruit, the sweetest thing the mountain produced.

His Peaches.

Of course also Macaques. He shared everything with his brother, the dark furred and six eared demon who had faced battles and won wars besides Wukong. While Wukong had been more leery, Peaches won him over faster than Flower Wine loosened his rigid posture. They had both fallen for this mortal women. And, in the traditional way she belonged to them. She just didn’t know it yet. They had touched and groomed and cuddled and tangled limbs and tails. They were practically married without the marriage bit.

Wukong rubbed small circles into Peaches back, trying to keep himself from bearing his teeth in rage.

I should have taken her home the moment she kissed me.

They had been kisses of the kind one gives to a friend or pet. It had left the warlord craving more burning with more.

Of wanting to feel her give him more than just a chaste kiss on the side of his face.

She wouldn’t have been hurt if he had just taken her home.

Wukong and Macaque had taken to one or both spending the night in Peaches trees, to keep an eye on her. Wukongs obsession had grown into a fascination and warm buttery love. A love that was becoming a wild inferno as he fought to stay still and not leap upon the corpse he had made and turn it into nothing but bits of flesh and gore the crows could carry away.

His Peaches fingers finally grasped his fur and shook. It brought Wukong back from his montage of rage to the present. If only Mac was here — but he wasn’t. He was back at home on Flower Fruit mountain , giving his brother the night to enjoy and keep lookout at Peaches den.

“That’s my girl.” The demon tried to soothe. He really wished he could set Peaches down and finish off what he had started. This place had been bad. This village terrible. He hated every thing and one here that had dared to let a drunken fool up to his Peaches doorstep and allowed this to happen. In reality Wukong was mad it had been Mac’s own sense of importance on taking it slow and letting a little thing like a life outside of Flower Fruit Mountain stop him from from revealing who he was and taking her home.

I am done trying to woo her over slowly. They could have lost her this night if Wukong hadn’t been in earshot, hadn’t heard the crash of something breaking. His clawed hands wrapped around her back and beneath her legs. Before he could realize it, Wukong had her up and in his arms, already stepping on and across the corpse and out into the June air. Mine.

“Let’s get you home, lovely.” Wukongs voice was thick with emotion. Relief to finally, finally, finally have an excuse to take his wife home, to see her sleep in a real bed and eat real food made his heart swell. No more pretending. No more longing. It was happening now. Simmering beneath that emotion was the sweet bubble, the red misting rage, of violence. Once he got her home, got her safe, got her tangled within some of his and Macaques blankets to where the sour smell of fear would be lost within the scent of them- he could come back. He would come back.

He would destroy the village for being the obstacle it was in his conquest for this mortal girls heart. It was in itself, a relief to know he was justified in its destruction.

Look what this place did to bruise my sweet fruit.

Peaches was shaking. Clinging to him. I would have her cling to me always. He pressed his nose into her neck, breathing in as he walked off. She smelled so good. He rubbed his face to hers, affectionately smothering her fear scent. Wukong felt a smile curl his face. Finally. We can go home and put the charade to bed. Finally you are mine.

Peaches' memory of that night was mostly of clinging to Wukong as they flew through the air, of his voice a rumble of soft words and comforts. He was holding her close, pressing her in. Smothering her in a sense. But she needed it. She clung to it in a way to stop herself from being sick from fright. It was strange but familiar to hold this fur, to cling. Then she briefly remembered another voice, another set of hands. When she looked up and saw that her sweet dark monkey was also here, had also been a demon in disguise, something broke in her. Maybe hysteria. Maybe disbelief. Or maybe she knew, somewhere in her mind, that no matter what she said now wouldn’t save the people- the innocents- in her village.

Peaches had been transferred into the dark arms and THATS where she finally began to cry. The shock was fading and leaving behind ragged holes of emotion.

“Safe, you're safe now.” She was reassured. Hands had lifted her chin, her sweet little monkey- now a demonic one- was gently beginning to sponge away the blood from the cuts on her face. Her cheek swelled, her eye with it.

“Please don’t kill them.” She begged. “He already took care of the one who hurt me don’t kill my village.”

“Hush love…”

“Please!”

Silence. Something cold pressed to her face- a bit of snow from far up the mountain wrapped in cloth. Macaques ears twitched like flower petals in the night air.

“It’s already done. The village is already gone.”

The memory rode itself out in the present and faded slowly.

Guilt washed over her and she cried all for a new reason. She had been the catalyst for Sun Wukongs fury. She had been the decider to his want of destruction. Peaches may not have killed them, may have had a decade to realize that what had happened wasn’t her fault, but Wukong had done it in her name. He had erased that village and all its people like a cartographer reshapes a map. To all the rest of the world, their had never been a village in the shadow of Flower fruit mountain. Not a foundation, not a brick, not even a spare hair, was left of humanity there. Instead it had been cleared as if a fire had swept through. Peaches had seen it on one occasion when Wukong had been persuaded to show her. She had needed closure. Needed the peace.

Once she had healed she had been told her village was gone. She had been given a sweet lie- that Wukong had gone back and the villagers related to the drunk had been ransacking her house to see where she kept the money or any spare wine.

When Wukong had shown up demanding they answer to the crime committed in her home, they had attacked. Wukong had enacted a king's justice as was his right. He had told the remaining villagers to leave- to never set foot upon his domain again for the lawlessness that had been enacted upon their neighbor.

It had taken two years for her to be able to relax whenever he came in smelling of fire and iron. It had taken a few years more for her to remember what Macaque had said when he had pressed snow to her face.

They were the same little monkeys they had been before. But now they had less innocence when they pressed into her face for kisses, when they asked to tangle and cuddle limbs. They insisted she stay in the bedchamber and not move to her own separate room.

It had taken getting used to movement beside her as a hand tugged her hair, or a tale twined her waist. Or a leg curled with hers or hands holding her face. Sometimes in the dark Mac would press his head to her back, using her as a pillow. Wukong would yank her in when he thought her too sleepy to remember and whisper all the things he loved about her.

It would have been sweet. It was touching in a way. If not for the way they revealed themselves. If not for that memory and what she knew now had come after.

It had not taken too long after that for her to start realizing that, though Wukong had saved her, neither of them had any regret of what happened. Neither of them was going to let her go.

When she asked about it or started talking of missing her home- the simple living, the ability to really on herself and choose for herself- Wukong would laugh and launch into one of his tales. He would brush her hair with his claws, run his face against hers and try and deflect her attention to new things.

Macaque, if Wukong was absent, would let her talk. Usually it happened when he asked her to brush his fur or he in turn asked to brush her hair. Peaches thought, just a bit, that the reason Mac was better at listening was for all the ears he had. Each time however, when she got to the part about how this had been her fault, he would stop mid way through a braid or pin and pull her in. Macaque would kiss the tears from her eyes, would press himself close to her chest.

“It was Never your fault Peaches.”

“I remember. I remember he went back- you said he—“

“Hush love you’ll grow hysterical. What Wukong did was justified- he defended you.”

“He killed.”

“I have killed.” He kissed her temple, gentle in his reprimands. He wouldn’t try and brush her words beneath a rug like Wukong. Instead he gave her a smile as wide as the crescent moon. “Let’s finish your hair and get you dressed. We can go see the baby’s, I know how you love the baby’s.” Baby monkeys were her weakness. They had been what led to her loving Mac before she had known he was a demonic warlord.

Peaches rubbed at her eyes and stood, the sorrow in her heart heavy still but the tears at least had stopped. Now she was just tired. Tired and cold and wanting to escape the feeling of it all. So she shed her courtly attire. All the clips and jewels and baubles and bits felt heavy. She placed them within the box at her armoire, then loosened her hair from its bindings. Jade pins, pearl necklaces, golden bracelets with bells of silver (Wukong loved this the best of all) all glimmered back in the firelight.

A pretty price.

She snapped the box closed.

On nights like this, she wanted to wear nothing but her smock, her simple clothing, and bury herself as far as she could go into the bed she shared with her husbands.

It was more of a pit set into the ground, circular in nature. Silken pillows, red sheets and a hoard of anything plush and furred had been thrown into the pit. It was also a snug place to bury herself within and one of the few things she didn’t feel resentment too right away. When the outside felt too bright and she couldn’t go about the mountain to her usual quiet places, she would retire here. To burrow, to bury, to hide.

Peach fell back into the pit of blankets and pillows and pulled herself beneath a fur of some striped monster Macaque had skinned and gifted to her. Tonight the bitter truth was hard to swallow and did circles in her head.

You did this. You caused this. You killed them. This is your fault.

She closed her eyes and hoped … hoped for what might be the worst thing yet. Her husband's return.

A time later she stirred. Something was in her room- was walking to the bed. Peaches felt a flutter of fear before hands reached into her hiding place and simply slid her out.

“Hello darling.” The silken voice belonged to none other than Macaque. His clawed hands entwined around her waist, his teeth nipping at her ear. “You are up late.”

“Does that mean it will be a late morning?” Wukongs voice came from the other side of the room. Peaches could see the ginger monkey removing armor from his shoulders and stretching. As the darker brother kept making a snack of her shoulder, Peaches noticed that the shine of Wukongs paldrom was dimmed. Something black coated the golden imprint of sunbursts across its armored surface. “I love late mornings! Means more time together.”

Blood?

“Peaches?” She turned her head, trying to see Mac. He had left off nipping her skin. A hand came away from her wrist and tipped her chin, forcing her to stare directly into his violet eyes. “What has upset you?”

Everything. Myself. Wukong. You. It was that simple question that set her sorrow to flowing again. She was confused, upset, and she wanted comfort. The only ones who could give her comfort were the very ones who caused her distress.

A vicious cycle.

The pillows behind her sagged. Wukongs hands were more aggressive in their touches, turning her about to stare into her face. He noted the tears, the bruising beneath her eyes. His lip curled in anger.

“Has someone upset you?” Wukong asked. He seemed ready to stand again, to grab his armor and step out into the night. “I will drag them here to give an apology. You name them and I will fetch them.”

Peaches shook her head.

“Just ….” You killing the villagers, Macaque telling me plainly that it was for the best, and my own head making me relive that night of events. Over and over and over.

“…. Myself.”

His face softened as he chirped a reassurance, pressing his nose to hers. Macaque peppered her in gentle and butterfly soft kisses to the back of her neck. The three fell back into the nest, limbs entwined and hands holding. Macaque had Peaches face buried in his chest as she sobbed silently. He cooed. He whispered how everything would be right as rain in the morning. His hands ran through her hair and messaged her scalp. Wukong held his Peaches, pressing her back to his chest in a solid wall against the world outside. He lavished her in praises and compliments, sometimes getting carried away and talking about himself until his brother would remind him with a flick to his forehead that it was their Peaches he should be reassuring.

And through it all, through this twisted and tangled weave of limbs and fur and warmth and sorrow, Peaches felt love. It grew in this dark place still, wanting to thrive. But how could it?

Still she fell asleep, lashes sparkled with tears and her heart lighter. One could only be sad so long in the wake of such waves of attention. Wukongs and Macaques love was the only solution to this ailment they had inflicted upon her, and she, the addict, swallowing the medicine that would give her release.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #twice as bad AU #semisolid #bad end wukong #ALRIGHT I DID IT.#yes I wrote this in a dayish between work and my other writing #I haven’t done this much work in a long time and I was so nervous I would get this pairing wrong #bad monkey boys #they made a whole tangled mess of this situation.#they sweet but stinky #sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #six eared macaque #I based this off a idea and answer Semi gave in one of their blog posts #was I lurking? yes. Because there stuff also has a vice grip on my mind #I Dont know much about LMK so getting this Macaque down right took a bit of work so I didn’t mess up the vibe.#i am so jelly of the nest pit pls I would dive into that like a child into a ball pit #jttw tag #lmk #it think I’m tagging that right ?#I have a weakness for big possessive grumps loving their sunshine wives #six eared macaque x reader #hcfanfics

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maxybabyy · 5 months ago

Text

the wildest loveliest girl

loose sequel to this girl!max fic and this edit 🥵 (also on ao3)

When Max brings it up, Daniel thinks that she’s joking

No, that’s not true.

The first time she mentions it, her cheek is resting on the inside of his thigh, “I told the guys I will do a stint for the 24-hour Nürburgring stream in Imola.”

Her mouth is still wet, loose and red from where his cock had just been inside her. Her lips are swollen, and Daniel thinks maybe if he kisses her now, she will taste like him too – and she does.

She comes easy when he coaxes her into his lap, hands spread wide over the skin of her hips, her ass. “That’s nice, babe,” he tells her and takes off her shirt, the fabric tacky between his fingers.

If the world knew about them, if Max cared any less about her privacy, maybe Enchanté would become a Team Redline sponsor. Make an entire line of cropped racing tops and those tennis skirts with built-in shorts that she wears to padel now.

Practical, but so fucking hot.

“GP tells me of course I am crazy, but it will be, I think, so lovely,” Max says, and if it wasn’t for the hitch in her breath, how her thighs squeeze around his wrist, you wouldn’t know he was three fingers deep inside her. “And when we win –“

Daniel feels her come around him, the teeth in his throat, tiny moans silent except for how they make his skin vibrate, his name falling like prayers from her lips as she comes down.

“What then, Max?” He asks, voice soft as he pulls her to his chest, kissing her until she kisses him back, eager. Indulgent.

“It will be so good, Daniel,” she tells him with a grin, kisses him again and then – “Not of course like this, but very good also.”

“Hey, Blake’s asking if you wanna come to the sponsor dinner after quali?”

They’re both lying in bed, still naked with the door closed so the cats won’t sneak in. His sex playlist has shuffled from sexy bangers into something corny that he hasn’t listened to in forever, but Max is humming along and that’s almost better.

“Maxy?” He asks again. His cheek is pillowed on her boobs, so it’s barely a thought to poke out his tongue, licking at the sensitive peak of her nipple. “Dinner?”

Her eyes move from her phone to Daniel’s face, hand frozen on the screen. Her other hand tugs at his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as she hums, “I could of course eat.”

He keeps her eyes on him, closing his lips around her nipple and bites down with the softest of teeth.

“I know, babe. But do you wanna come to dinner with me and the team after quali?”

She’s done it before, prefers it to some of the shit Red Bull usually has her do. At least like this, she gets a nice meal and Daniel is around to do most of the schmoozing.

“When?”

“In Imola,” he tells her and watches how her eyes flutter shut.

“Can’t, ‘m driving.”

Her legs are wrapped around his waist again, and Daniel is quick to fuck two fingers back inside her, thumb on her clit as she whines.

“It’s after quali,” Daniel says and leans up to kiss her, cheek cradled in the palm of his hand as she thrashes in his arms. “Blake already has a car and everything set up so –“

Her orgasm is barely a shiver compared to her first two, teeth sharp as they bite into his lip.

“Fuck,” Max moans and goes loose-limbed underneath him.

Her eyes are closed, and her breaths turn steady, hair spread out across the pillow. Daniel almost thinks she’s fallen asleep when she digs her icy toes into the back of his thigh.

“I’m doing the iRacing event after qualifying, maybe just an hour or two, but.”

Daniel kisses her face, her nose, “But like – in Imola?”

Max leans into his touch, chasing his mouth with hers. They are slow, lazy kisses that leave their lips wet and swollen, and Daniel loves them so much.

“Yes, it is of course online, so I will go from qualifying to the race. And then in the morning maybe before the race,” she tells him and kisses him once more before she reaches for her phone. “Now, what do you want for dinner?”

In the weeks leading up to Imola, Daniel barely sees her.

Max had told him that she would be busy and not maybe respond to texts during the day but if he installed discord, probably she could send him an update sometime.

Daniel doesn’t know if his Mac can even handle that – wouldn’t know how to do it if it could – and decides instead to move into her apartment for a bit. It’s not – they usually stay at her place when they have the time because of the cats.

But they’re not like, living together yet.

Or at least, Daniel still rents a place in Monaco where he keeps the shit he hasn’t brought to her apartment. But it’s fine, real estate is a great investment and all that.

Being physically closer doesn’t change that much. Max is still busy setting up the sim and testing what car they should use in the race.

But at least like this, he gets to see her at night when she turns everything off and crawls into bed with him. He’s there when she comes out of the office to make sure the cats are taken care of and if she can, steal one of them back in with her. He brings her food and a bottle of water when she gets thirsty, rubs her shoulders when the hours in the sim rig leave her body stiff and sore, and coaxes her into the shower just to have another moment alone with her.

One afternoon, he steals her away to play padel with Lando and Alex. The exhaustion doesn’t improve her already shit aim and they only win one round, but Max is having fun.

They’re meant to go to lunch all four of them – maybe George too if Alex can get him to come – but Daniel’s been half-hard since Max poured the rest of her water bottle onto her head, and when she pulls him into one of the private stalls, Daniel comes easy.

If Team Redline didn’t already know they were together, they definitely do now with how many times Daniel has walked in on their video calls to check up on Max.

Today, he comes in with Jimmy in his arms cradled like a baby, hovering awkwardly until Max notices him with a smile, “What’s up, Daniel?”

She taps her keyboard before she twists around in her seat to look at him. She’s not wearing the team shirt, so at least he knows she isn’t streaming, but he can see the tiny video boxes on the screen – the suffocating feeling from 2020 already itching in his throat making him feel ill.

“Just, like. Wanted to make sure this fella’s been fed because he keeps whining,” Daniel says and holds Jimmy closer to his chest. It’s unfair really, to blame Jimmy when he’s been such a good sport, napping on his chest until the incessant need to be close to Max had overtaken him.

Jimmy, probably sensing the offence, wiggles out of his arms and jumps into her lap, sharp nails on pale skin. But Max barely notices, kisses his head and coos, “Hi baby, are you being a cunt to daddy?”

Daniel kicks out his feet, locking his knees to keep him from stumbling to the ground. He fucking hopes Max put the call on mute when he came in.

It’s not like, a sexual thing – not by itself at least. She’s never called him that in bed, and with Jos and their complicated relationship, Daniel isn’t sure that’s something he wants to explore. But like, still.

One day she had just – said it.

Talking to the cats about how he was going back to Australia for a bit and that, “Daddy will be gone so you of course have to be nice to him,” and now she just always calls him that, two fucking hell-spawn somehow adopted by proxy.

Jimmy meows in her arms.

“I think he is so sleepy, he would not even eat right now,” Max says with a frown and kisses the space between his ears.

“Huh, that’s pretty weird,” Daniel tells her lamely and leans down to get a kiss of her own.

“Crane says hi,” Max says with one hand on Jimmy as the other reaches for him.

“Oh, uh –“ he says and squeezes her hand. His other hand twists the length of her hair, pulls it tight around his palm until a noise falls from her lips, like when she’s on her knees for him, sucking his –

It’s getting longer now, her hair. Almost below her chest. So different to how it was when they met, how she wore it when they first got together. Daniel doesn’t really care about how her hair looks, thinks she looks just as pretty with her balaclava on, sweat seeping into her hairline as her face flushes with heat.

“Tell him I say hi back,” he says and waves to the guy he’s pretty sure is Crane. “Alright, didn’t wanna disturb you. Let me know if you need anything.”

Max hums, stretching her neck and smacking her lips until he leans down to kiss her, “’kay, love you, Daniel.”

“Yeah, love you too, babe,” he says and leaves the room with Jimmy still in her lap.

Daniel is a tiny bit tipsy when the car comes to pick him up.

Dinner had gone well. Qualifying had left him with a rush, excited for Sunday, and his good mood had rubbed off on both the sponsors and executives, calling out toasts to the success of the team, Daniel’s future with them, to Max’s chances for tomorrow.

He hasn’t seen her since this morning, swept away by her team to prepare for the race, but he watches her now, the stream pulled up on his phone. He doesn’t have the app, and Twitch keeps crashing and reloading, but there she is in the tiny box in the corner of the screen.

Even in the fucking awful team shirt that everyone wears, Max looks beautiful.

She’s barely visible in her sim rig, tucked away behind the wheel. It’s not unlike how she looks at home, at the factory with GP always close behind. But it feels different to be on this side of it, watching her with 20.000 of her fans, unable to reach out and touch her.

He left his headphones at the track, so he plays the sound over the speakers. But even as he keeps pressing the volume button, he cannot hear Max. When he asks in chat – twice, and then with a donation – Crane just shakes his head, “It’s a live race, mate. What do you want us to do? Should we pop in on her chat with GP tomorrow too?”

It’s not the same, Daniel doesn’t think.

But maybe it is to Max.

Daniel nods to the group of guys dressed in Team Redline merch hanging around the motorhome and goes to slip past them when one of them stops him

“Sorry, mate. No access,” the tallest of them says, a bright orange MV1 hat shoved onto his head.

“What?”

The guy stares back at him, no recognition in his eyes as he makes himself bigger to block the doorway. It barely makes a difference, but Daniel hangs back. “I can’t let you in,” he adds bluntly.

“Are you for real?” Daniel asks.

He’s still dressed for dinner, dress pants and a nice shirt with his jacket hanging over his shoulder. He’s not wearing his fucking paddock pass or the VCARB merch, but his entire outfit is sponsored by Hugo, the brand subtle but visible on his chest. And like, they’re at a fucking F1 circuit. Shouldn’t they at least know who he is?

“Sir –“

Someone pokes their head out of the door and looks at Daniel, looks at the other guy with a sigh before he pushes the door wider and gestures for him to come in, “Daniel, right? Come on in.”

“Cheers, mate,” Daniel says as he shuffles past the group.

“I’m Jack, I work with Max and Team Redline. It’s nice to finally meet you,” the man says, and Daniel does vaguely remember the name from one of their conversations about the stream. “Max’s still online but it shouldn’t be long now. The mic has quite the range but if you stay here, the camera cannot see you.”

“Thanks, man.”

Jack slips away to take a phone call, so Daniel watches from the doorway as Max parks the car, relaying information to the guy driving the next stint.

“I will – tomorrow, I will do another stint. Before of course the race. Yeah, good luck!” Daniel must make a noise because she turns to the door and beams when she sees him standing there. “Daniel!” She says and reaches for him.

She melts into his arms when Daniel touches her, head heavy against his chest. Her groan is muffled against him, and Daniel knows she must be tired. He’s just about to nudge her towards the bed shoved in the corner of the room when Jack walks back in.

“Crane is asking if you’re coming on stream, do a little interview maybe?”

Max’s body shakes with an exhale. Her hand curls in the fabric of Daniel’s shirt and he moves with her pull until he’s sat almost in her lap. “Fine,” she finally says. “But only five minutes.”

“Did it go well?” Daniel asks when Jack leaves again. “I watched a bit in the car, you looked good.”

“It was good I think also,” Max says as a wide smile breaks out on her face. “The other car had of course some problems but it is –“ Her hand wobbles in the air, weaving through the other like traffic.

“Yeah? I’m proud of you, Maxy.”

Max’s face softens and she reaches for him, pulling him down for a kiss. Her lips are dry and taste so much like Red Bull that he knows she probably hasn’t had anything else to drink tonight. But’s it good, tastes like Max. His tongue licks into her mouth, hand playing with the tacky fabric of her shirt when there’s a noise from her headphones.

“Hey Max, you’re still on cam.”

Daniel feels how she freezes in his arms before she leans back to glare at the camera. And there, in the tiny window in the corner of her screen, is a man watching them back. But she doesn’t move away, keeps herself pressed against Daniel.

“The stream is down so it’s just me and the guys, but I thought you should know.”

“Next time probably you should start with that,” Max says as her eyes roll to the back of her head. “Okay, I will leave then, see you tomorrow, Crane.”

“He’s kinda intense,” Daniel says when Jack leaves for the night.

“Hmm? No, he’s fine, I think,” Max says, distracted as he kisses her face, her cheek, her lips.

Daniel goes down on his knees, mouth wet on her skin as he kisses down her body. He shoves the fucking Redline shirt out of the way and touches her boobs with gentle hands, mouth chasing the noises that fall from her lips. She’s wearing a flimsy pair of shorts, soft and silky, and maybe she already knew she would go straight to bed after. Now, Daniel drags them down her legs, teeth teasing the tender skin of her inner thigh.

“Daniel,” she begs and buries her hand in his hair.

“Of course, Maxy.” So he puts his mouth on her and licks into her, wet and swollen, the taste of Max so heavy on his tongue.

She’s always been responsive, loud and direct in what she wants, shifting her hips to press into his mouth. How she moves him by his hair until she’s grinding onto his face. But he loves her like this too, lovely and oh so soft. Her body light with pleasure as she loses herself in the feeling.

He slips two fingers inside her, wet and warm, and he thinks if she wasn’t about to come, he would taste her there too. His jaw aches but Max shivers against him, her cunt clenching around his fingers until she falls apart.

Max is already up when Daniel wakes.

He watches her with tired eyes back on the sim, sipping another can of Red Bull as she talks in clipped words with her race engineer.

She had been almost liquid in his arms when he had moved them to the bed the night before. Had clung to him desperately as he had fucked her through another orgasm, the tiny bed barely big enough for one of them.

On the brink of sleep, he had watched her pull out her phone and put on the fight, balancing the screen against his head where it rested on her chest.

“Go to sleep, Daniel,” she had shushed him softly, one hand touching his cheek as the other turned down the volume until he could almost pretend it wasn’t there.

Daniel doesn’t know when the fight ended or how long she had stayed up after, but she doesn’t look tired, drives with the same steady confidence that has won her three titles and more wins than either of them had ever dreamt of.

His phone buzzes with a call from Blake.

He doesn’t know how much the mic would pick up, so he doesn’t answer it, typing out a quick reply that he’s on his way instead. He redresses in yesterday’s clothes and runs a hand through his hair, trying to make himself look somewhat decent on his way out.

Max must notice him moving around because she takes a second to smile at him off-camera, eyes soft as she slow-blinks at him.

“Love you, see you later,” he whispers and blows her a kiss.

Daniel doesn’t need to look to know that she’s leading the race, the Team Redline boys chatting excitedly when he walks past them, but he does anyway, pulls up the stream and watches her build up another winning gap.

#for you anon 😘#girl!max lives rent free in my mind #maxiel #maxiel fic #my writing #max/daniel #my fic #fic

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hippolotamus · 7 months ago

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Hiiiii Hippo 💕💕💕

Buddie fic title:

If only I knew you had electric fingerprints

-❤️🪐

Hiiii Saturn!!!! So lovely to see you here! You said Buddie. Please know you have my eternal gratitude for forgiving my slip into Diaz Family Feels. 💞🦛

After the debacle of broken salad bowls, 'I think you should go home' and 'This is your mess now', Eddie thought that he and Chris had worked through the biggest tangles of dating in the Diaz household. Introducing Marisol was almost a non-event. Eddie might even go so far as to call it a success.

He will now admit that line of thinking was more than a bit premature and naïve on his part.

Maybe it was his own growth and evolutions in the relationship department that led him to assume Christopher wouldn't face the same issues. And, well, technically he didn't. No, Eddie's son dealt him an entirely new, foreign set of tribulations. A one-eighty of Eddie's nesting instincts where Christopher is leading on five different girls. Five!

Wasn't it just last year they were discussing how much shirt sleeve was acceptable to show? What the hell happened?

And, OK, it's a new world with new methods of communication and apps and how teenagers interact with each other. Eddie likes to think he isn't completely stupid, because he tries to stay informed about current trends that he would honestly rather not know about. But no article or discussion with the school guidance counselor - or Frank - could have prepared him for tonight. No tips, tricks, signs to watch for could have fortified him for the devastating blow of 'We loved her and she left us anyway' and 'I can't remember her voice anymore'.

When Buck emerges from Chris's room, Eddie is still leaning against the wall, crushed under the weight of a thousand emotions and questions, attempting to prevent his heart from spilling past the walls of his chest. To keep it from slipping through the makeshift cage where his fingers press bruises into his skin, just below his collarbone.

Buck squeezes Eddie's shoulder before wordlessly leading them to the kitchen where he pours them both a glass of water and he waits. Waits for Eddie to speak, because it's what they do. They don't press. And maybe they should - more or earlier - but that's another thought for another day. For another version of Eddie that doesn't feel like the ground has been ripped out from underneath him.

"I don't- How am I supposed to-" Eddie blows out a harsh breath, frustrated that he can't form a complete question. That there is no entry in the non-existent Parenting Handbook for how to tackle this scenario.

"Eds," Buck says the nickname so carefully, so gently, like his tongue is shaping it from the most fragile glass. His hand tentatively slides across the tabletop until it's resting on top of Eddie's own. "You don't need to have all the answers or know exactly what to do."

"I know I don't. It's just-" He cuts himself off, huffing out an unamused chuckle. Because he doesn't know.

And, look, Eddie is fully aware that he doesn't have to be one hundred percent in control all the time, but it doesn't make him hate whatever this is any less. This combination of lost and thrown off course; of sad, bitter anger muddled together with desperation. His own eagerness to bargain for a way to make this situation more palatable. A pathetic yearning for the chance to go back. To never enlist and close himself off. To splurge on the digital camera with video recorder so he could capture a truly ludicrous amount of everyday, mundane moments.

How many hours of footage might they have collected? Of simple things like Shannon chopping vegetables or putting on makeup before a night out. Her and Eddie slow dancing in the backyard to music only they could hear. Or her laughing, bright and bold, as she smudged dirt and filth across Eddie's cheek after he showed her how to change the oil in her car. The way he pulled her in with his own grimy hands, pressing their mouths together so he could swallow the sound.

He blinks rapidly to keep tears from falling as he wonders how many instances would have featured her rolling her eyes - exactly the way Christopher does now - and shoving her palm in front of the lens.

But he'll never know because he's stuck with the choices he made. That they made. He can tell their son stories, bring him for graveside visits, and offer small souvenirs of the time Shannon had on earth, but that's all Eddie can do. He can't replicate what it was like to be in her presence. He can't convey how she was soft and gentle and all the things Eddie isn't, while also being sharp and spirited. How she smelled like peonies and summer rain.

Whatever he has to offer is two dimensional. Framed photographs, memories stored in his mind. Some of them also stored in Chris's though Eddie suspects in a completely different way. Hopefully in a way that doesn't taste as much like guilt and regret for things left unfinished and words left unsaid. Words like-

Dear Christopher.

He swallows hard around the phantom taste of sea spray from the Pacific Ocean, has the urge to claw at damp, sun-warmed sand that isn't there. And god only knows how his best friend has any idea what's scratching at Eddie's brain, but he does. And Eddie is so, so grateful when Buck rubs his thumb across Eddie's knuckles and asks if he should stay or would Eddie rather it just be him and Chris.

As much as Eddie would like Buck to be present as an extra layer of protection, he knows this is something he has to do himself. Even though, as he walks Buck to the front door, promising to call later, he gets the distinct feeling he won't actually be alone.

In the low lighting currently casting shadows around his bedroom, Eddie's fingers tremble as he reaches for the small safe in the back of his closet. A simple design meant to hold important, precious things. The metal dial is cool under his fingertips, easily manipulated as he rotates it right and left and right again until the door pulls open.

It's been years since he read the words written in Shannon's flowing script, but he knows them like he knows his own name. He traces over her loops and arches, wishing, like always, that he had more time. That he could put off performing this errand for a few more years, decades, lifetimes. Even if he knows it's only for selfish reasons. Because he owes this to Chris and to Shannon. It's on him to follow her instructions and deliver this remaining link between mother and son.

He holds the folded pieces of paper in his hands, feeling something familiar wrap around him that isn’t the usual despair. Something that's more like spun gold flowing between the note and his skin.

Eddie bites back a sob as it dives beneath the surface to wind its way around nerves and spill through blood vessels on its way to his heart. As a calm takes root, anchoring in all four chambers, unfurling and flourishing. As the room, that typically smells like lavender fabric softener and the fancy vanilla linen spray Pepa bought for him, is permeated by the overwhelming scent of Texas nights - filled with crackling humidity wrapped in silvery starlight - and velvety pink peonies.

He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing it in, inhaling deeply to his core like it might allow him to hold onto this moment forever. When at last his lungs protest, forcing him to exhale, his eyes flutter open again.

Eddie closes the door to the safe, hearing it shut with a satisfying click.

"Thank you," he whispers, letting his gaze drift to the letter once more before he walks down the hall to pass it to its rightful owner. His son. Their son. A living, breathing tether between past, present and future.

He knocks on the doorframe, briefly saddened by the sight of Shannon and Christopher’s picture turned face down on the desk. It only makes him more sure he’s doing the right thing.

“Hey, buddy…”

For additional Feels™️ may I recommend

#hippo gets mail #jfc i must go cry now #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #shannon diaz #saturn tag 🪐#7x1 coda #i guess?#hippo writes #fic title ask

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sunraies · 2 years ago

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OH I LOVE YOUR WORKS SM I REALLY READ THEM EVERY DAY ITS A ROUTINE TO ME

my request is kook!reader who gets along with Camerons very well. tutores to Wheez, gives her old study notes to Sarah, chit chats with Rose etc. and Rafe is adoring her. but they have some problems lately like Rafe's friends behaviours or Rafe's addiction or something about her idk really. and all these little problems becomes a big one and they finally have a fight. BIG. at Camerons. Wheez worrying, Rose is confused and Sarah is like 'finally, Rafe dont deserve you.' idk end however you want.

actually to me FULL ANGST. but however you want to end it honey. whether fluff or angst i am sure id love it. love you.

Oh my god! You are gotta make me cry 😭😭😭🥰. I love you too x

I hope this does your request justice. I tried to make it angst filled, but I'm such a fluff girl!

Goodbye

Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Warnings - Angst. Some fluff. Drug, alcohol and addict behaviour.

Your lifelong friendship with Rafe started to break slowly, but when he learns that you are leaving, it hits breaking point.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You spent as much time at the Cameron's as you did your own home, if not more. Your family lived next door, having moved there when you were young. Being neighbours meant growing up closely together and having Rafe Cameron as a best friend was a rollercoaster.

From the moment you first met Rafe, he adored you. The little blue-eyed boy with a wicked smile didn't know what hit him, literally. One minute, he was pulling your hair, and the next, you were punching him in the stomach. When questioned what happened, neither ratted the other out. It was you and Rafe against the world.

As you grew, you were always there for each other. He was there for you when Hank Harrison broke your heart and you were there for him when his mother left, leaving behind a broken Rafe, a small Sarah and baby Wheezie.

Your lives were tangled and waver together so tightly that you never thought it would break.

It started to fray after senior year. With the pressure of the future, you noticed a change in Rafe.

He had always loved partying hard, the girls and the booze, but no matter how far he took it, it never affected his daily life or how he treated you. You were his VIP guest to every party. It wasn't until he met Barry and a friend in the form of white powder that you had your first small fight.

You had been dancing with Sarah most of the night, having a good time until you became tired. You found Rafe surrounded by people, some you knew like Topper and Kelce but others you didn't. He was trying to convince Topper to take his first bump.

"Rafe," you called over the pounding music. He frowned before giving you a lopsided smile and pulling you into his lap, earning a few glares from the girls sitting around him.

"There's my girl." He grinned and wrapped you in his arms. "I missed you,"

With you, he didn't care if people saw him soft. You were his sweet other half. You brought out the softer side in him. He never admitted it to you, but he was sure he had loved you since the age of 5.

"I have been here all night," you said softly, seeing his pupils blown so wide, broke your heart a little. "I was coming to say goodbye,"

"Goodbye?" He frowned as you ran your hand through his hair, making him sigh. "The party's just started,"

"It's 3am."

"Stay, have some of the good stuff." He offered you a sip of his beer before grabbing a rolled up bill for you.

"Rafe, I don't want that,"

He groaned and loosened his grip on you, rolling his eyes and throwing his head back "Don't be so fucking boring"

"Good night, Rafe," you whispered, moving out of his lap and heading for the door. You heard him calling after you, but you didn't go back.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

The next slightly bigger argument you had was when you and Wheezie found him, drunk and high in the kitchen. You had been over to help Wheeze with her French homework. Being completely flunt, you were the best person to help.

You had gone to the kitchen for snacks, finding Rafe stumbling, slamming cabinet doors as he muttered away to himself. Something about hidden money, that his dad must have a stash hidden in the kitchen.

Ward had stashes in every room of the house, and you were sure of it but never thought of looking into the theory.

"Rafe?" Wheezie asked softly. He span around to her and sighed.

"Have you seen any of the money, dad hides?" He asked but Wheeze shook her head "Fuck"

"Why do you need it?"

"Cause, I fucked up Wheeze" He groaned "I fucked up big time!" He took a swig of the open whiskey bottle from the counter top before offering her some.

"Did you really just offer me, booze?" Wheezie frowned. "I'm 13"

"Shit, god. I'm sorry, Wheeze." He covered his eyes with his hands and groaned again. "I'm so fucked, but I'm gonna fix it"

"Go upstairs, Wheeze. I'll be up in a minute. " You fixed one of her braids, and you watched as she hurried up the stairs before turning back to Rafe.

"What you do this time?" You asked, arms folded as he looked over at you. It was like he had just noticed you were there.

"Why does it have to be something I did?" He asked, frowning as he took a drink again

"Is it Barry again?"

He laughed "No it's not fucking Barry. Just get off my case"

"Rafe, you just told your 13 year old sister, that you need money and offered her whiskey" You pointed out "Now tell me what the fuck the problem is"

He looked you up and down. "My sister. Exactly. It's a family problem. Don't worry yourself over something that isn't your business"

You tried not to take it to heart. He was hiding the fact that he was in trouble by cutting you out. It wasn't the first time he'd been in debt to Barry, but it was the first time he didn't admit it to you.

"Rafe" Wheezie whispered from the door way. She had a small bundle of dollar bills in her hand "Will this help? It's all I've got for now"

She received a small allowance from Ward, something all the Cameron kids had. Being the youngest, she didn't get as much, but she saved it all, claiming she wanted to buy her own first car.

"Shit," Rafe muttered as he suddenly broke down in front of you both.

You hurried over to him and cradled his head to your chest as he sobbed. Poor Wheezie stood helpless as she watched her big brother crumble in your arms.

Later, you found out that all the money Rafe paid Barry back had been stolen by Sarah. You hoped that day would be a wake-up call to make him stop, but it only got worse.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

You hadn't seen Rafe for a few weeks when you sat in the Cameron's kitchen, munching grapes as you sat on the kitchen island, speaking to Rose as she made a pot of coffee.

"I'm so proud of you." She smiled. "I can't believe our girl is going to Paris!"

You smiled back. You had come round to pick up Sarah for a shopping spree and told Rose the news that you had been accepted to a collage in Paris.

"I can't believe it either." You popped a grape in your mouth. "I honestly didn't think I would get in."

"Of course you would. I mean, look at you. They would have been stupid, not too. "

"Not to, what?" Rafe stumbled into the kitchen, his hair messy from sleep as he wore only sweatpants, he smelt strongly of the night before and had a light sweat on his brow, clearing in the middle of a come down.

"Not accept her to their collage." Rose smiled as the kettle boiled.

Rafe nodded and grunted as he grabbed a cup before he paused. "Collage? What fucking collage?"

You had told him a million times that your dream was to go to Paris. Collage was the perfect way to have the chance to live there.

"Paris," Rose answered, slightly oblivious to the tension building in the room. You flinched as Rafe dropped his cup down, harder than needed on the side.

"Paris?"

"Yes, Rafe. Paris, " You muttered. It was meant to be the most exciting news to share with him, but with the way things had been, you hadn't got the chance.

He stared at you as you stared back. He was waiting for the punch line. It had to be a joke. You were leaving him.

"Rose? Have you seen my white Converse?" Wheezie asked as she entered the kitchen before looking between you and Rafe.

"No, honey. Maybe in the sunroom?" Rose suggested before going to look with her.

"Fucking Paris?" Rafe frowned

"Yes, Rafe fucking Paris" You said back, in a even tone.

"So you were just going to up and leave me?"

"No, I told you about this before. Not that I'd been accepted, but I've been wanting to go all year"

Soon, you were yelling at each other so loudly everyone in the house could hear.

"Just fuck off to Paris, then!" He yelled "I don't fucking need you anymore! Always dragging me down!"

"Oh, I'm planning too!" You snapped back. "Sorry to have been such a downer. I'll be gone in no time!"

"Good! I'll be fucking free!"

"So free! Have fun fucking the girl you have up stairs!"

"Wow. Jealous?!"

"Nothing to be jealous of," you said calmly. You never insulted him back before. Normally ending the arguments quickly but this time you were done "Just a drunk, drugged up dickhead"

He stared at you, "Fuck off" He muttered

"That's the plan." You didn't want to leave him behind, but you needed to go after your own future.

"Ready to go?" Sarah asked, looking between you. The looks you were throwing it each were deadly.

"Yeah. I'm done here." You pushed yourself off the island and left Rafe to watch you go, smashing the cup against the countertop after you left.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

You checked your passport, ticket, and flight number three times as you stood with your family and the Camerons, minus Rafe. Everyone hugged you goodbye. You subconsciously glanced around as you had the heavy feeling of something missing.

"You don't need him here," Sarah said softly as she pulled back from a long hug. "I'm sorry, I know you want him here. But you don't need him."

You nodded, knowing she was right. You didn't need the Rafe you'd seen recently, but part of you wished you had your Rafe there.

The one who gave your first kiss when you were worried you would never get one. The one who snuck into your room with your favourite ice cream after punching Hank Harrison and spent hours holding you. The one who checked in on you at parties. The one who took you to prom, claiming he was the only date worthy of you. You knew he'd threatened anyone who tried asking you, but at the time, you didn't care. You had your Rafe.

After a long goodbye and a final call for your flight, you made your way to the gate when you heard him calling your name over the sound of the music in your earphones.

You frowned, turning around slowly as Rafe Cameron ran towards you. He was completely out of breath when he made it to you, but he looked different.

His eyes were clearer, those gorgeous ocean blue again. He smelt of his cologne and not of the night before.

"Don't you dare tell me not to go." As a part of you was happy to see him, another was worried.

He shook his head and gently grabbed your arms. "No, no. I would never"

You raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm going to miss my flight."

"I'll make it quick. I promise." He moved his hands to your cheeks when you didn't move away from his touch.

"What is it?"

"I couldn't let you go without saying goodbye," He whispered before slowly moving closer to you. "I'm so sorry, baby."

You sighed softly and nodded. Your heart rapidly beating in your chest.

"I have to go," you whispered, but you made no move to leave as they announced your flight again.

"I know, I know." He breathed as his lips made contact with yours.

You whimpered against him, unable to control it before deepening the kiss. The airline announcing they were on last check-in broke you apart.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips

"I know, I know." You breathed, pulled back. "I love you too."

"Go on, baby." He smiled, nodding towards your gate as the last few people walked through the doors.

You gave him a quick kiss again before hurrying away. Leaving him to watch you go with a smile on his face.

Just as you were setting your phone to airplane mode, you received a message:

'I'm getting clean. I mean it this time. I love you, I'm sorry I didn't say it before. I promise you, baby. I'll see you in week' Rafe sent a picture of a plane ticket he just purchased.

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst #rafe request

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mikuni14 · 3 months ago

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I Hear The Sunspot - Ep 10

I won't lie if I say that series that create dramas out of nothing, creating problems and scenarios that are far removed from the ordinary lives of millions of people around the world, kind of annoy me 🙃 Kohei and Taichi's relationship is getting more and more weird and unnatural, and they had such a good flow in episodes 1-6. Taichi, who didn't allow any bullshit and openly confronted Kohei and everyone he met, is now unable to communicate. Kohei, who had a tendency to blurt out confessions about his feelings, is now unable to communicate. We also had scenes of them being shy, hiding, which were eventually resolved by contacting/meeting/ even visiting home, and we keep going back to the same point over and over again. Although that's not even it: I complained about the repetition, but now they're back to a point where they never even were. Besides, I really have the impression that the series creates artificial drama, the lack of communication has reached astronomical proportions, they either do not talk to each other AT ALL, and when they meet for a second, when they are not with Maya, they barely talk about important stuff, which was not a problem for them before. They cannot talk, they cannot make an appointment and meet with each other alone like adults, they do not use phones, they cannot get rid of Maya for 5 seconds.

I am generally furious with Kohei that he cannot once and properly put Maya down for her words and behavior towards Taichi, if someone spoke shit like that about someone I like - not even my close friend or crush, and someone like that is supposedly Taichi for Kohei - we would have a serious conversation about it: either stay and shut the fuck up, or leave.

I absolutely hate how Maya described Taichi not knowing him at all and how Kohei immediately thought of it when he saw Taichi making a decision about his life, career and future. What the actual FUCK. Am I the only one who sees Taichi's life as being quite lonely and supporting himself and going to college and working and helping Kohei? And how he has to think about himself and his future because he has no supportive parents and no one will do it for him? How can anyone even think of him as doing it all thoughtlessly or on purpose? Or that he "abandons Kohei" because he is a stupid and cruel person who never cared? ☹

What is the point of this BL at all, since there has been no BL for the last 4 episodes, and the main characters are drifting further and further away from each other with each episode. Why don't they struggle with all these adversities, problems TOGETHER. What is the point of all this, since there is no "togetherness" in it! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

I just... I just love Kohei so much and he seems very lonely to me now. I started shipping him with Chiba-kun ngl, with whom he currently has the most chemistry and scenes lmao

On the one hand, it's not so good that the grandfather isn't more helpful and advising on the young man's important life decisions, on the other hand, the fact that he doesn't make a drama out of these decisions is a big relief for him 😊 Even if Taichi makes a bad decision, he'll have a place to go back to and he'll have the support of his grandfather, who won't make him feel bad about it or say "I told you so". Taichi is still young, he can do whatever he wants, he can go back to college someday, these are no longer the times when people had to make the most important life decisions before the age of 25, which were also irreversible. I think it was a good scene.

But what's worst about all this is that the series got itself tangled up in its own plot, because we don't have a single hint since ep 6 that Taichi is responding to Kohei's feelings, so this whole drama makes no sense. Since they have nothing in common romantically, if they want, they can meet up after work/school (although they haven't managed to do that yet lol) as friends, write to each other (also something they can't do) and live their own lives. Kohei can meet up with Maya since he prefers her company anyway, and Taichi can pursue his career. After all - there is no BL in this BL, so why the drama?

This show has become such a mess. But it would still be a "managable" mess if Kohei and Taichi had more than one scene per episode where something actually happened between them. And we didn't even have the aftermath of the famous "what if I didn't hate it". Like it never happened...

#i hear the sunspot #hidamari ga kikoeru #bl drama #japanese bl

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abiiors · 1 year ago

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red lines - pt. 1 ║// matty healy x reader

a/n: i want you to read this very very carefully: i am pro-choice and i will always be pro-choice. and this is a work of fiction. also feel the need to add that this is more a collection of small vignettes??? ugh idk, hope you enjoy regardless cw: *deep breath* angst, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, mentions of vomit, (and other pregnancy symptoms), crying (so much of it my god) and arguments, mentions of smoking, illness, hospitals, panic attacks, reader has a good relationship with her mother so i guess that's a cw too, (most definitely inaccurate) descriptions of birth. wc: 4.6k

two red lines is all it takes to ruin a perfect life.

two red lines repeated twice on two different tests that stare back at you from the counter—innocent and white and damning. the bathroom is utterly still, save for the tap dripping one drop every seven seconds. you would know, you counted it, used those seven seconds to ground you and stop you from spiraling into another panic attack for the three minutes it took to get those two red lines.

pregnant.

with two more weeks left on tour by matty’s side.

gingerly you wrap them in toilet paper, make sure they’re safe and secure and nothing’s peeking out. you throw it in the bin, looking at it with a deadness on your face that you feel deep inside. then you call the reception and ask them to take out the trash.

matty isn’t here. he’s on stage, serenading thousands of people who hang on to every single word he says, looking at him with all the love and adoration in the world. matty, your matty, who belongs as much to you as he does to the people, the fans. you should have been there too but there was the migraine and the nausea that wouldn’t go away. so you told him you would just sleep it off tonight.

have an amazing night, babe. break a leg. and then a sweet kiss and a promise to see him tomorrow.

and then the two red lines.

every time you blink you see them flash in front of you—like a promise or a warning. or maybe even a sentence.

pregnant.

a baby.

a cause for happiness and celebration.

and the conversation from a week ago that lingers in your mind, echoes inside your skull as if those words are the only ones you remember.

i’m just not ready love, he says, not now. maybe not for another year or two. i don’t know, babies are a lot of work. and i am a lot of work.

i love you, he says, kissing you deeply and tasting his own cum on your lips. i love you but a baby right now is a hard no.

nothing in particular spurred this conversation really—just the two of you, naked, and tangled up in the sheets, his hand caressing your lower stomach and you letting yourself daydream. who knew the daydream was indeed reality? and now here you are, head in your hands—partly from the migraine, partly from the anxiety—waiting for him to be back.

he will change his mind, you know it. matty loves you, and this baby is half you, half him. he will come around and you will be there to soothe his worries. you know he will hear the baby’s heartbeat and fall in love.

you know he will treat them like the most precious thing in the whole world.

the thought makes you smile and the door creaks open.

“pregnant,” he looks at you warily, “what do you mean pregnant?”

the small smile on your face fades away. “pregnant with a baby, matty. what other kind of pregnant is there?”

you wonder if you meant to joke, if he will break character and laugh and everything will be okay again. maybe you just caught him by surprise, this is just a blip. in two more minutes, he will smile and drop down to his knees and kiss your still-flat stomach. he’ll say hello to them. tell them he loves them and then tell you how much he loves you, kissing you gently and pulling you into him.

you can already feel his feather-light touch on your skin. his mouth lingering on your lower stomach on his way down.

matty stills in place.

“no…”

one word, it’s small and broken and so unlike him that you almost do a double-take.

“what do you mean no?”

“i can’t okay?” his voice rises, “i told you i can’t!”

you can sense the agitation he feels, his hammering heartbeat and the shallowness of his breaths. his hands runs through his hair, spilling the curls everywhere.

“you’re on the pill.”

“i think…” you hedge, tears gathering in your eyes, “i think i missed a day.”

he snaps his head up to look at you. when matty first came back to the room, he looked happy and giddy—cheeks pink and hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat. now he looks grey and listless. like all the colour’s been zapped out of him.

“you missed a day,” he repeats.

“matty, please…”

but matty is already turning around and storming off to the balcony. through the glass you watch him light a cigarette with shaky hands, taking a deep drag before he tips his head back and blows it out. another drag, another blow. eyes closed. breathing that slowly goes from rapid to normal once again.

five minutes later, only the stub remains and matty is back in the room.

“i can’t,” he says firmly. “i told you i wasn’t ready.”

it sounds final. like a death knell. instictively your hand covers your stomach.

“i won’t,” you shake your head and the tears fall rapidly, first down your cheeks then your chin and onto your chest. “i won’t get rid of it.”

matty stares at you quietly, you stare back. it seems you’re at an impasse.

twenty minutes later, you pack your bags.

london is greyer than it has ever been, especially from your new flat so far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. not that you’ve had much time to get acquainted with the new area after being bent over the toilet for days on end, retching and heaving until there’s nothing left inside you. a hollowness so deep that no amount of food or water will fill it.

so you eat strictly for the baby. pre-natal vitamins and supplements and a nutritious breakfast that you throw right back up. but you try. all for the sake of the tiny clump of cells dependent on you. the image of the two red lines has long been replaced with a grainy black and white rectangle. every time you close your eyes, you see the screen lit up with an image of your little bean, moving around. in some far back corner of your mind, you think they look happy.

at night you curl up on your cold bed, phone in hand, the baby’s heartbeat playing on repeat. it used to be his, your brain reminds you painfully. back when you slept all cuddled up with him. head on his chest, his soothing heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

you mother is worried about you. she calls at least thrice a day to make sure you ate every meal and took every pill. she comes every sunday to stock you fridge full of vegetables and fruits and make sure you have enough ginger and peppermint tea. sundays, begrudgingly, become your favourite. your mother, once again, becomes your best friend.

but you can’t let her move in. can’t let her be a constant presence and drive you crazy and unearth him every chance she gets. so like clockwork, at 6 pm, you usher her out the door, tell her you need privacy and quiet and solitude. like every single time, she promises she’ll be back next sunday.

and every single time she keeps her word.

one day you wake up to a change—a small one, really, but a change regardless. barely even noticeable at first. it’s your top that doesn’t reach all the way down. maybe it shrunk in the wash, you think. then the full length mirror reminds you of the reality. and the tiny little bump that’s seemingly grown overnight.

your little bean. suddenly so real. so tangible. so present.

“hello, little one,” you coo at your stomach, feeling a little silly at first. there’s no reply, of course, just the sounds of morning traffic coming in from the open window. but your eyes stay trained on the bump. “you weren’t so noticeable last night.”

nothing happens. no movement (of course, not. they’re too small for that.), no one appreciating the change with you. matty who should have been here to witness this…

matty who isn’t here to witness this.

emotions swirl in your head so fast that it’s dizzying. this time there’s no tears falling one by one. there’s the sobs that come all of a sudden and the floodgates that open in the blink of an eye but he is not here to hold you or pull you into his chest when you gasp and gasp for a breath that never comes.

in a panic you dial the first number you can find in your contacts, gasping and yelling out broken sentences and panicking at whoever’s picked up. it’s 8 am on a wednesday, whoever you called must be utterly bewildered. yet when you can focus enough, you realise it’s a man’s voice replying. a familiar voice. shocked and equally panicked and asking you if you’re okay again and again.

you pull the phone away from your ear and look at the screen. at adam’s name flashing on it.

the first contact on your list. one starting with an a.

“fuck,” you mumble. “sorry, i’m okay. i’m fine.” and then you hang up, and rock yourself back and forth on the ground until your breaths resemble something normal.

fifteen minutes later, there’s pounding at your front door and the bell rings incessantly. in your gut you know it’s adam. and it’s confirmed when his voice floats through the door.

“open the door,” he urges. “i need to know you’re okay.”

and so you pull yourself back up, harshly wipe away the tears and unlock the front door.

it’s only been a month since you last saw adam but he looks different. his hair’s grown out, his dark circles are gone and in spite of the worried look on his face, he looks happier somehow. healthier.

being back home with the love of your life and your baby will do that to you.

“you look well,” you croak out and then clear your throat. adam doesn’t take the bait.

“do you need me to take you to the hospital? call your gp?” straight to the point as always. you smile at him fondly.

“no, no i don’t. i’m okay, i promise.”

“you didn’t sound okay.”

“i meant to call my mum, adam. sorry i dialed the wrong number.”

“regardless,” he holds up a hand. “can you please talk to me. or talk to mat—”

“don’t.” the voice that comes out of you is stern. “he doesn’t want me or the baby. i will not let him talk me into an abortion.”

adam winces and rubs a hand over his face. perhaps that was harsh, you think, he’s not some evil villain. but none of it changes the outcome. in every single universe, you end up here—fresh off a panic attack in your living room, talking to your ex-boyfriend’s best friend.

“how did you know where i live?”

at that he looks a bit sheepish. “i asked you mum. not today!” he reassures hastily when your eyes widen. “don’t worry. i asked her a few days ago. i wanted to… i’ve been meaning to check up on you.”

“and you couldn’t call?” you smile at him wryly.

“no. i wanted to see you in person.”

“so you can report back to him?”

adam clicks his tongue and warmth fills your chest. he’s always been good to you, always been kind, and loved you like a little sister. you shouldn’t have cut him off like this.

“no,” he says. “so i could make sure you were okay.”

it’s a small mercy that the morning sickness eases a few days after that as your bump continues to grow. more often than not, you find yourself with a hand on your stomach, drawing small circles on it and humming to it. lately, you’ve also noticed the little flutters that linger long after you stop humming. your baby responding to you. showing you they’re there.

it’s not far before you approach the twenty week mark. the most important scan you’ll have throughout. you’ll find out the gender, you’ll find out if they’re healthy or not.

and each time you think about it, it’s like the weight of the entire world is on your shoulders.

the night before you contemplate calling your mum, nervous and panicked once again but it’s almost 11 pm. she would be deep asleep by now—she would be excited too. no need to put a damper on her mood.

then you wonder if calling adam is a good idea. but you quickly scrap it.

for the first time in months your finger hovers over the familiar name in your contacts. over the little heart that’s still next to his name that you never bothered to change.

what will he say if you called him now? will he even pick up?

are you ready enough to brave it?

the truth still remains. you want this baby, he doesn’t. the same impasse you were at months ago. if any of that had changed, he would have called you. he would have reached out… right?

so instead you do the second stupidest thing. you type up his name in google.

your stomach churns with nausea or anxiety or just impending doom while the webpage loads—slow, too slow for your liking. or maybe time has simply slowed down and you’re too much of a coward to really face the consequences of your own action.

the webpage loads. the frown on your face deepens.

nothing. rather, the last article written about him specifically is from two days after the tour ended. everything after that is either recycled news, or some silly quiz about the band. nothing about him. no pap photos, no social media activity. absolutely nothing to indicate he’s even left his house in the last few months.

you mind buzzes with all kinds of thoughts, swirls with wicked possibilities. you almost even text adam about it before the turning your phone off abruptly and chucking it to the other side of the bed.

no more temptation.

sleep is like a fickle friend—has been since the day you left the hotel room in tears. but you close your eyes and imagine your baby’s heart beating inside you in sync with yours. tomorrow, there will be a new recording to replace the older one. hopefully one that’s stronger. calmer.

when sleep drags you under around three in the morning, you dream of his hands—fingers gingerly touching your stomach, resting on all the spots that flutter with movement. gentle hands that massage your sore feet and work out the kinks in your back.

hands that you might never feel on your skin ever again.

the doctor smiles coyly and slides an envelope to your mother. it’s a little hush-hush secret, one she insisted on and begged till you relented. the gender reveal isn’t huge or flashy but you know there’s a cake waiting for you at home along with a few friends and family. and for the first time in months, you let the excitement of it wash over you.

the scan was perfect! and now you feel a bit bad for clutching your mum’s hand hard enough till she’d winced (even though she hid it quickly and smiled at you in encouragement). so now here you are, thanking the doctor and practically skipping out the room with your mum laughing in tow.

she looks lighter too, you realise, much more carefree as she gushes about her precious grandbaby and how excited she is to meet them.

“we have to buy onesies!” she squeals getting behind the wheel and you laugh.

“we will, mum, but they’re going to grow out of it in weeks so you can’t go crazy, okay?”

she dismisses this with a wave and a pfft and you can already imagine the mountain of clothes she’s going to buy over the next twenty weeks.

you nod off to the sound of your mum excitedly making plans for an elaborate baby shower, one that you’ll have to beg her to tone down, but her voice fades away soon. instead, you dream of him. your subconscious wonders what he would have been like today—maybe he’d cry out of excitement or being overwhelmed, maybe he would smile so wide his cheeks hurt. in some parallel universe the two of you would be in the baby aisle—hand in hand and cooing over tiny onesies.

in this universe, you jerk out of the daydream just as your mum parks in the driveway.

your friends and family don’t yell “surprise”, much to your relief. there are many hugs and congratulations. tears of happiness and jokes and then a delicious vanilla cake brought in front of you.

everyone waits eagerly. no one brings him up. not even you, as you sink the knife into it and cut a slice.

it’s pink. a gorgeous, pale pink. it’s a girl.

everyone cheers. your mum hugs you and you sniffle into her shoulder while laughing giddiy. a girl, your baby girl.

right then you know what you’re going to call her—you don’t need baby name lists on google or a hundred suggestions from your mother. you already know her name.

mia.

mine and mine alone.

blink and twenty weeks go down to fifteen and ten and then five. each day it seems like you only get bigger and bigger, impossibly so. your life is filled to the brim with baby stuff, inside and out. everywhere you look there’s either a pram or a crib or pregnancy books. every time you get one spare minute you’re reminded of the back aches and sore feet. the constant hunger that just does not seem to go away no matter how much you eat.

your mothers visits increase from only sundays to whole weekends to three days a week.

at first you protest—fuelled by hunger and hormones and mood swings. fuelled by the rage of a thousand burning stars as you stomp into the living room where she’s folding yet another batch of baby socks and blankets.

“you’re suffocating me!” you snap, already on the brink of tears while she looks at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“baby—”

“no! mum,” a deep breath and a few stray tears, “i’m not a baby. i’m having a baby for fucks sake.”

“language!” she scolds.

“stop it, just, please!” there’s not much you can do but stomp your foot like a petulant child. proving her point most likely. “stop acting like i need to be coddled and protected. just. stop!”

your mum looks speechless, too stunned to speak but the ball is rolling and now you cannot stop.

“i don’t need you here. i don’t need you acting like i would crumble and wither away without you. i don’t need you and i certainly don’t need him—fuck!” you gasp for a breath, choking mid-sentence.

the second those words spill out of you, you want to take them back but it’s too late. her eyes are already red-rimmed and glossy. one tear rolls down her cheek and that’s all it takes for you to break down completely.

“fuck!” you repeat. “i’m sorry, mum. i’m so sorry.” that’s the only thing you can chant until she chucks the clothes aside and wraps her arms around you, shushing you the best she can through her own tears.

for the first time in eight months you wonder about what if. and for the first time in eight months, you think about his words from that night.

maybe not for another year or two.

you’re closer now to the one year mark that you’re to that night. mia kicks your insides again—her own version of support or maybe it’s her doling out punishment for never introducing her to her dad. either way, it’s not helping. all it does is spread pain throughout your lower body as you hold onto your mum, rocking back and forth.

“it’s alright, sweetheart,” you mum whispers gently, kissing the crown of your head and cradling you like she used to when you were a kid. it makes your emotions worse. increases the ache tenfold.

“i miss him, mum,” you admit finally, in a voice so small that you might as well not have spoken. but she hears it anyway. she hears it but doesn’t interrupt. she lets you speak.

“every single day i wonder if he even gives a shit. or if he regrets leaving me, leaving us. i speak to adam and carly and i wonder if they ever tell him about me. i wonder if he even cares…”

you gulp down air, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your jumper and cuddling into her further.

“and after everything. i miss him more than anything in this world.”

there it is. the truth, finally out there, finally spilled after months of pretending to be cold and callous. you wait for her to speak, to say something that will dull the pain and release you from this torment but she never gets the chance.

because that is the moment your daughter decides to make her grand entrance.

it’s pain like you’ve never felt before.

pain and panic and unadulterated fear. she’s not supposed to be here yet. you’re only 35 weeks pregnant—nowhere near full term. what if this affects her negatively. you blame and blame—first yourself; you must have done something wrong, right? ate something wrong or not taken the right vitamins or slept the wrong fucking way. then you blame matty. if he was here, you would have never been this stressed and unhappy in the first place. everything would have been smooth-sailing.

and yet a small part of you yearns for him to be here. to brush your sweaty hair away from your forehead instead of your mother as the doctor yells at you to push.

it’s all too much, all too soon. this is not how it’s supposed to be. this is not how any of this is supposed to be.

the machines around you beep in a rhythm that’s all worng—it’s too loud and erratic and out of sync with the rest of the world. surely, that’s not how fast your heart’s beating. maybe the beeping is something else you’re unaware of. and yet your body feels hot and cold at the same time. too weak to move but pushing and contracting and tearing you apart from the inside. you’re vaguely aware of the screams that tear out of you, of gripping your mum’s hand so tightly that you worry, you’ve bruised it.

but she’s strong, stronger than you’ll ever be. she endures and passes along some of that strength to you.

“one more big push,” the doctor encourages. she’s a kind, middle-aged woman. probably someone who’s brought many babies into this world. she knows what she’s doing. but your body won’t cooperate.

all you feel is a bone deep exhaustion that tries to drag you under as your mother taps your cheek.

“a big push, baby,” she repeats. “one big push and her shoulders will be out.”

and that would almost be the end of it, right? so you nod with whatever’s left in you and breathe the way they taught you in birthing classes.

and that’s how it goes. inhale. hold. exhale. gather strength. push. all of it done to a constant stream of rather futile encouragements. until you feel like you’re bursting at the seams and coming undone. about to unravel any moment.

but then a tiny cry echoes around the room and the world comes to a standstill.

mia’s arrival changes everything in the blink of an eye.

you have no time left for self-pity; every waking moment is occupied with feedings and nappy changes and laundry. you sleep when she sleeps, you hold her close every chance you get. you sing her and cradle her and shower her with enough affection for two people. she has you and your mum. she doesn’t need anyone else.

slowly you let other friends and family visit—extremely selective and protective about who gets the priviledge but one afternoon when adam messages you know you can’t deny that to him. even when you’ve tried to keep him, and all of them by entension, at bay.

in another universe, she would have been his goddaughter. you’re sure of it.

so you let him and carly and their son visit, let them hold her and gush over her. carly instantly falls in love with her, cradling her close and trying to make her smile even though she’s just woken up. mia babbles at her and grabs her shiny necklace.

you watch them transfixed, giggling at carly’s squeals and coos until adam asks if he could speak to you alone.

“i don’t want to step over a boundary,” he starts and you know what’s coming but you let him continue. “have you thought about letting him know? that she’s already here…”

“i…” in all honesty, you had wondered if you should call him and let him know. but what if he still doesn’t care. “i didn’t. i couldn’t.”

adam’s face softens. “he’s back in london, you know? you could. you could try.”

that piques your interest. you hadn’t knows he’d left in the first place. “he’s back?”

adam takes a deep breath, eyes darting slightly and lingering on his wife as if he’s trying to steel himself. as if he has some news he’d rather not share. in the end however, maybe he chooses not to.

“yes, he’s back,” he says, trying and failing not to sound cagey. “he wasn’t until now. but if you would talk to him… just, i think you should talk to him.”

for the rest of their visit, his words linger in your mind. they stay even after the hanns leaving, promising another visit whenever you’re free next and you tell them they’re welcome any time. this time, you even mean it from the bottom of your heart.

but adam’s words come back to haunt you day after day as mia continues to grow. day after day you watch her learn about new things and figure out new stuff around her.

matty should be here. if not for him then for her. and once again you wonder about calling him.

one last chance. if he ignores this then he loses the right to his daughter forever.

so one tuesday morning, you gather the courage. you strap your baby to your chest and go downstairs to make some pancakes.

“after breakfast, darling,” you tell her, even though those words aren’t meant for her. “after breakfast we’ll call him again. maybe he will pick up. maybe he won’t.”

mia babbles when you kiss her head and flip a pancake, ignoring the worry that settles in the pit of your stomach. you’re so focused on the task at hand (rather, at ignoring the thoughts of impending doom) that you almost miss the doorbell that rings once and then again.

so focused that you have to scramble to wash your hands and rush to the door. maybe it’s your mum again, even though she wasn’t supposed to come today. it won’t be her first surprise visit, though. she misses her granddaughter far too much for that.

in a hurry you open the door, without even thinking about it twice. without even bothering to unstrap your daughter from your chest.

matty’s familiar face comes into view and for the second time in three months, the world comes to a standstill.

lemme know what you think <33

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monzamash · 2 years ago

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the good, the bad and what could’ve been — lando norris (part three)

summary – nine years. an age gap that you didn’t know would cause so much heartache. you tell yourself that it’s fine, he tells you that he could give you the world but this was a cautionary tale of what could’ve been if you just let love win. pairing – lando norris x you (female reader) chapter warning – 18+ (smut, language, age gap/older woman) word count – 8k a/n – the third and final part! thank you all for being so patient x inspired by charlie puth's song called boy. masterlist

part one | part two | part three

Previously...

For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. And maybe you didn’t need all the wisdom and baggage that came with someone older, someone who had already lived a life. In contrast, Lando was exciting and living life to the fullest, travelling the world, seeing it all and not burdened by responsibility.

But that’s what made him the dangerous choice. All these insecurities and fears swirled around in your head as you fell asleep in his warm embrace, limbs tangled together like a web, tender between your thighs and an ache in your heart.

You were falling in love with Lando; that much was true but what would the cost be of handing your heart over to someone who had the world at his feet, everything still to experience?

Winter had come and gone and spring was blossoming in all it’s glory, bringing with it new opportunity. Little by little, leaves sprouted on the branches, chirping birds returned to their homes and the scent of fresh flowers filled the busy streets of London – life resuming to normal after a long, brutal winter. The New Year proved to be quite fruitful, with you landing a freelancing job and loving it. It was time to recalibrate your goals and aspirations, reconsider where you saw yourself in five years.

The closing of one chapter gave you permission to want more, to expect more than the mundane and experience what the world had to offer. You’d settled for less for far too long but now you were finally stepping up and advocating for yourself – to yourself.

“You seem so happy.”

Rae couldn’t help herself. She’d kept tight-lipped until now, sensing the shift in your mood weeks ago and loving how much you’d been smiling lately. And she knew why. A certain curly haired man had shown you what happiness looked like, what it felt like and most importantly, how it could mend a broken spirit. You were stumbling through life, chasing unattainable goals and it made you miserable. You were free-spirited, a lone wolf – and Lando allowed you to explore that, to be spontaneous.

“I am,” You simply replied and took a sip of the coffee she’d made you, watching your eyes glimmer in the morning light. There was a sparkle ever present when you talked about him or thought about him – a spark ignited deep within. Burning.

“And how does Lando feel about being the reason you’re so happy?” Rae asked with a sly, knowing smile as she clasped her hands under her chin, waiting for you to spill all the tea she’d missed out on over the last couple of week.

“Don’t know, to be honest. I assume he knows he’s the reason – and hopefully I’m part of the reason why he’s racing so well. We talk nearly every day…” You confessed, cheeks every so lightly blushing underneath the thin layer of foundation.

Rae nodded and flicked through her phone, “He’s going very well apparently. Mark gives me an update every weekend – kinda strange to think that he’s on the other side of the world right now.” She glanced up with furrowed brows, face-palming her forehead, “As if you need to be reminded of that. I'm sorry.”

You shrugged, “It’s totally fine. I actually… No, I shouldn’t say it.” You hesitated, knowing that if you said the words out loud, they would suddenly become real and you didn’t want to put those thoughts and feelings out into the universe – not yet.

“Well you have to now,” Rae chuckled, her full attention all yours.

“I thought that maybe he would’ve asked me to come along to a race – his home one at least but it hasn’t come up… and I’ve been pathetically hinting at it – it’s really lame so forget I said anything,” You quickly muttered, fumbling over your words and feeling your heart start to race.

“That’s like, the opposite of lame. You should ask him.”

“No fucking way. God, even just thinking about asking him makes me want to throw up,” You laughed, almost choking on your words as if it was the last thing on earth you would ever do, “No, if he wants me there, he’ll ask.”

Rae nodded and went back to the coffee in her hands, “Your call but I think he’d appreciate you being forward. I can hear how much you mean to him when you’re on the phone… don’t take what you have for granted.”

“Sage advice, Sensai.”

You promised to think about it. But things were perfect with Lando and the last thing you wanted to do was over step boundaries when everything had been smooth sailing. You strongly believed that if he wanted you there, he would ask and you were sticking with it. It wasn’t the end of the world if he didn’t either, and maybe he was worried that the whole spectacle would scare you away. The endless rotation of thoughts tumbled around in your head until you finally fell asleep, curled up in his bed, waiting for him to come home.

The sound of his soft voice a few hours later woke you from your nap, “What are you doing here? Where’s your Mum?” You heard him ask your puppy who was skating around his feet, scratching the floorboards and no doubt nearly weeing herself with excitement.

The faint squeak of the bedroom door made your heart flip in your chest, watching him step through with a small smile. His eyes were dark and those wild curls you loved fell flat over his forehead – physically shattered from a whole day of travel, flight cancelations delaying his return home but he exhaled when he spotted you propped up in his bed, relieved that you were still here after weeks away. A weight had been taken off his weary shoulders when he saw your face.

“Welcome home,” You whispered as he dropped his luggage at the door and unclipped the backpack on his shoulders, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

Lando jumped up onto the bed like a shot and summoned the last remaining ounces of energy he had, crawling over your duvet-covered body. You had thought about surprising him with something cute, like a new two-piece lingerie set because that’s what you’d always done for men. Dolled yourself up until you were unrecognisable, servicing them and not wearing what you wanted. But Lando worshiped the ground you walked on, made you feel sexier than you’d ever felt before. Oversized t-shirts and track pants were his love language. Comfort was important to him and there was nothing he loved more than seeing you relaxed. Cosy and content.

“Missed you more.” You sighed as Lando grasped the duvet and ripped it back, along with the sheets; a smirk teasing on his lips, “Doubt that very much.”

The unruly curls were even more frazzled close up, the bags under his eyes darker than the last time you’d seen him. His cheeks were hollowed, bone structure more prominent and small blemishes had surfaced on his soft skin, reminding him that even in the chaos of a double header, he still needed to follow a skincare routine. His sullen features made your heart sink as he hovered above you; his cheeky expression the only thing keeping you from asking if he was okay, if he was struggling. There was glimmer in his eyes that settled your fears, a bright spark igniting behind the bloodshot whites giving you silent reassurance that being here with you was the lifeline that he needed right now.

“I thought about this every day… about you, about us. Feel like a muppet for being away from a creature as beautiful as you for so long,” Lando chuckled through his confession – reflecting on how ridiculous the last few weeks had been, how stupid he was for not calling more.

“A really cute muppet though,” You teased, making him giggle and lose balance, fatigued arms giving out and causing him to land on top of you with a loud huff. You took his entire body weight with a sigh, arms wrapped around his torso; head nestled into the crook of his neck. Lando did the same – lips dancing over the shell of your ear, whispering how beautiful you looked, how desperately he craved the feeling of you tangled up with him but his voice was strained, depleted.

Lando managed to lift himself up and save you from the crush, propped up on his elbow, eyes trained on the side of you face in the dimly lit bedroom. The only light source coming from the laptop to your left, white light blasting up the dark walls as you laid peacefully, fingertips brushing over the exposed skin on your shoulder.

“Did Max let you in? I didn’t see him downstairs,” Lando asked, curious to know how you managed to surprise him like this, welcoming him home with open arms.

“He gave me his key – he’s gone up to Bristol for some racing thing, he said. And Chompy and I couldn’t wait to see you so he offered. I hope that’s okay…”

You felt awkward all of a sudden, like you’d overstepped one of those invisible boundaries that were in place, about to explode on a grenade. But Lando’s rolling eyes softened you, a smile erupting on his face as he leaned in and captured your lips, “More than okay. Wish you were here all the time.”

He didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did. Moving in together wasn’t on the agenda but he appreciated you being there tonight, a familiar face to ground him again after weeks spent flying around the world, Austria being the last stop.

“How long are you back for this time?”

The question was laced in faux curiosity – you knew how long you had him in London, down to the hour if you were being totally honest. The innocent question made Lando think, mind flicking through the days like a diary in the palms of his hands, “A bit over a week, I reckon. Silverstone’s this weekend – home race,” He replied animatedly, eyes wide and shining bright.

“Exciting,” You whispered as Lando stretched his back, hand squeezing your hip.

“I’ve got you a pass for the weekend but realised I hadn’t actually asked if you were free… You are, right?” His question quelled all of your fears of him thinking you weren’t interested in his life, not willing to take that next step with him.

You nodded, simply, wordless while you turned onto your side. Lando smiled and closed his eyes as your hands trawled through his uncontrollable hair, curls tangling around your fingers while you pulled him closer and pressed another sweet kiss to his lips, “I’ll be shitting myself the whole time but that’ll be out weighed by seeing you in your race suit, I guess.”

Lando huffed out a soft chuckle, eyes cracking open ever so slightly – playfully narrowed, “I do look really sexy in the kit.” You hummed in agreement, nodding while closing the gap again, lips softly touching before his hand snaked up and held your jaw gently, holding you in place.

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other; slowly drifting off to sleep. Having Lando home brought you more joy than you thought it would, a comfort that caught you by surprise. You were an independent woman, self-reliant but he gave you something that you didn’t even know you needed – companionship. A sounding board to all your shit, someone who listened without judgement, unfiltered opinions on anything and everything.

And unbeknownst to you, Lando had made it his mission to be that person for you. He was quickly learning all your whims, the good and the bad and appreciating how you saw the world so differently to him – so wise. This was, after all, his first serious relationship and he was in uncharted waters, with an older woman.

But once you’d gotten to know more about each other than what was underneath your clothes, the age gap was merely a factoid in your story. You were everything he could’ve conjured up in a dream journal – smart, sexy, funny, down to earth and into him. Well-travelled, cultured, successful; you were everything and still, after three months, couldn’t believe that he was the one you were falling in love with; that you were his.

The morning of race day was utter madness. Lando was running late, as per usual, rushing around his apartment trying to find his sunglasses until you picked them up from his kitchen counter with a smile. Thank you, he whispered, pressing a hurried kiss to your cheek before hiking up his backpack and pulling you towards the front door. You’d kept your outfit simple and boringly beige, not wanting to stand out too much in the paddock. The white knitted dress that came down to mid-thigh, black tights, combat boots and a taupe Burberry trenchcoat did the job at staying low-key, blending into the background noise and avoiding the chaos.

Max had promised to metaphorically hold your hand the entire day, making sure you weren’t separated from the small Quadrant crew that had also been invited along to the British Grand Prix. You didn’t know much about them, nor did you realise how renowned they were but everywhere they went, they were bombarded with people asking for selfies and autographs.

“It’s getting fucking stupid now. We’ve gotta go!” Ria, who you’d met barely five minutes ago, yelled at Max who was pointing towards the paddock entrance with a panicked look on his face. “You go first babes,” She smiled, more of less pushing you towards the turnstile with your pass around your neck, finally making it through the gates.

You wondered how they ever got used to that – the constant attention. And if it was this bad for them, you couldn’t imagine how intense it was for Lando. Truth be told, you’d never actually gone out on an official date together, always opting for post-mates and spending quality time alone at home – away from prying eyes and ill-mannered people who had no sense of personal space. But would it be like this everywhere you went with him? Were you prepared to have your whole life on display for the world to see? You had no clue.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Max exhaled, grasping your shoulder with sympathetic eyes. He was more shocked than you were about the whole situation and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how stunned he was, readjusting his Quadrant cap.

“Didn’t realise you were so famous, Maxy boy. Kind of impressed,” You teased back, earning a chuckle from Ria who had walked up beside you, arm linked with yours, “Don’t stroke his ego too much.”

“Good point.”

There were celebrities filing through the crowd in droves and the pit lane was absolutely loaded with people trying to get a glimpse of the teams. McLaren were the epitome of formula one in the United Kingdom, you’d been told and that was backed up ten-fold when you peeked into the garage, searching for their star drivers. Lando had spoken about Daniel fondly and admired the way he was able to put his head down and tune out the bullshit. You told him to let some of that resilience rub off on him, knowing that the external noise is never as bad as what’s going on inside his head. But you could only control one of the two.

You could almost see those internal thoughts swirling above Lando’s tilted head when you spotted him in the back of the garage – intently analysing jumbled numbers on a screen and biting his fingernails. He looked almost angelic standing amongst the madness in the white skin-tight fireproofs, suit folded down and hanging around his jutted hips. His thumb was basically in his mouth, teeth violently chomping away at the skin as he processed whatever it was the man beside him was saying, eyebrows rising when he mentioned something of interest.

“Don’t be offended if he doesn’t come over and say hello – he’s usually in the zone by now and blocks everyone out.” Max explained, managing your expectations and you appreciated the heads up. You didn’t know what to expect from the day but having a reassuring voice giving you the low down helped more than he knew.

“Oh, of course. It’s awesome to see it all in person – so much crazier than on TV,” You replied with wide eyes and an understanding smile.

Max nodded and continued to meet people while you stood beside him and the Quadrant team, taking in the scenes. The main difference between being at the track on race day and watching it on TV were the television crews. Everywhere you looked there were several people swinging around a cameraman, trying not to run into people or disrupt other stations broadcasts. You chuckled at a couple of the pit crew dancing in the background of a shot, knowing that their weekend had been a lot longer than anyone else’s here.

You were so preoccupied watching them fooling around that you hadn’t felt someone sneaking up behind you, hand gently gripping your waist; the whispered ‘hi’ in your ear assuring you that it was Lando. His hand retreated before you spun around, the other holding a water bottle up to his mouth.

“Hi you,” You replied sweetly, instinctively reaching out to nudge his hip but deciding mid air to keep your hands to yourself. Lando noticed and chuckled as he took a gulp of water, eyes scanning your face.

“You’re a little bit sunburnt, baby.” He stated with a smirk, taking in your flushed cheeks and feeling his heart flip at how happy you looked. “Are you having fun?”

“Lots of fun. And I’m being very well looked after – thank you by the way,” You replied quietly, Lando taking a step forward so he could hear you over all the commotion. He scanned the small group of his closest friends and internally jumped for joy that they had stuck to their word and kept an eye out for you.

“Better fucking be. I’m paying them the big bucks,” Lando winked and pulled up the rope that was separating the two of you, “Want a tour?”

Naturally your eyebrows rose with excitement and you nodded, quickly whipping your head around to see where Max had gone and thankfully catching Ria’s attention. You pointed towards Lando who was already dragging you away and she held her hand up to her ear, gesturing for you to call her when you needed to meet up with them again. You figured there was enough time for this tour before Lando needed to be under lock and key and you hoped you weren’t being a distraction as you sheepishly followed him through the garage.

“I’m just gonna grab my gloves from my room and walk her back to the paddock,” Lando whispered to Jon, who had been one of the sweetest people you’d met so far. No worries mate, he replied with a smile before returning to his phone.

Once you were out of sight of the crowd and cameras, Lando held out his hand for you to take, clasping it firmly as he tugged you through the narrow hallways and behind the motorhomes set up side by side. He was strategic in his route, giggling when he spotted all the media looking around to bundle up drivers and team bosses for a quick comment before the race, “We’re so sneaky.”

You stayed close to him as he weaved you around once last corner and up a couple of steps, whipping the door closed as quickly as it was opened. The room was snug - only a few metres wide each way, a small daybed tucked against the wall and a desk beside you. Lando had video called you a couple of times from here, giving you the grand tour of his tiny drivers room but it was surreal to see his sanctuary in person.

“Wow, I knew it was small but you can barely swing a cat in here.” Your comment made Lando chuckle as he tidied the bed that he’d clearly been napping in before leaving to find you.

“But it’s cute and I like this a lot…” You pointed to the Polaroid stuck to the large mirror hanging above his desk – the photo was of the two of you on New Years Eve, tipsy and falling in love, “Softie.”

“How dare you call me a softie,” Lando scoffed, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling your back to his chest, trailing soft kisses up the side of your neck. “’Cause you’ve made me like this, you know.”

The rational little voice in your head was telling you to put ice on whatever Lando had on his mind, his hands doing all the talking as they skimmed over your stomach, heading north towards the two things he loved the most. You stopped their course and tutted, turning in his embrace and pining his hands to his chest, “Don’t get yourself all worked up before the race. We don’t have enough time.”

“Oh, there’s always time for this.” Lando wrestled out of your grip, way too easily you’ll admit and resumed his hold on your waist, seizing your lips in a deep kiss.

It took your breath away momentarily but you quickly snapped back to reality and slung your arms over his shoulders, bringing him closer again. He was warm to the touch, the skin on the nape of his neck sizzling under your fingertips, curls tangled from the humidity. Lando wasn’t fucking around when his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, splitting your lips and deepening the kiss even more. There wasn’t much you loved more than kissing him, wrestling each other for dominance through soft moans. The rush of blood between your thighs indicated that this was all a little bit too steamy for a pre-race catch up and you reluctantly pulled away, lips ghosting over his as you both caught your breath.

“You were right – I’m really fucking hard now,” Lando winked and brushed his fingers through his messy curls with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and shoved his chest, putting as much distance as you could between you in the tight confines.

“Zero self-control,” You playfully scolded and readjusted your trench as Lando stepped forward and straightened your collar, “But I can’t really talk because you look insanely sexy in this…” You tugged on the race suit hanging on his hips, wishing you could peel it off his body – right here, right now.

“Oh, really?” He taunted, “How sexy?”

“Like, bend me over this desk and fuck me sexy,” You stated bluntly and Lando threw his head back with a groan before rushing you with another kiss.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how desperate he was, hands friskily roaming your backside before he pulled himself away and grasped your face between his hands, “How I can simultaneously love you and hate you baffles me.”

Lando’s eyes were sincere, soft and mesmerized. You bit down on your lip, hiding the smile tugging on the corners of your mouth while you thought of a response worthy of his words. Of course you felt the same way but there was always something stopping you from saying it back. I love you too being the response Lando was looking for, pleading for. He’d said it so many times without hesitation, receiving a kiss or some kind of diversion every single time.

And it was killing him.

“I am a woman of many mysteries, my dear.”

Like a dagger to the heart.

“That is very true.” Lando averted his eyes from yours and brushed himself off, pulling the race suit over his shoulders and zipping it up. He was smiling and you breathed a sigh of relief, reassured that you hadn’t upset him before the race. At least that’s what you thought. Lando’s mind however, was racing – so many fears eating him up inside but he needed to focus on the challenge ahead.

And that’s what he did for the next three hours. Raced the wheels off that papaya car like his life depended on it, his sole focus was getting it over the checkered flag and having a respectable race after weeks of struggling to secure points.

“That’s P4, Lando – great race, mate.”

Lando cheering into his radio and thanking his team had you beaming with pride. He’d been doing it tough these past few races so finishing in the top five at his home race was exactly the kind of confidence boost he needed. It was a long season after all and he needed keep his spirits up – something that you were more than happy to help with.

“You were an absolute killer out there!” You enthused as your arms wrapped around Lando’s waist, pulling him into a hug with a contented smile. He immediately nuzzled into your neck and sighed, squeezing your shoulders in his embrace before pulling back with a grin. “You were amazing.”

“Time to celebrate, yeah?” Lando asked, glancing over at Max who was nodding with an equally large smile before leading everyone towards the parking lot.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

After rushing back to your apartment and changing into something nightclub appropriate, Max texted Lando the address for the place you would all be going to. A few of the other drivers had been invited, George Russell being the only one you’d been introduced to and all of Lando’s high school mates who had come along to the race. You knew from the second you stepped into the claustrophobic club that you’d be looking for a familiar face to latch onto, fully aware that your safety blanket would be pulled in every possible direction – and that’s exactly what happened.

You found yourself sitting alone in a small booth at the back of the club, watching Lando laughing along with his friends, smile lines more present now than you’d ever seen. The condensation on your glass had seeped down onto the table, a perfect excuse to distract you from the sickly pit forming in your stomach as you watched girl after girl attempt to make their move. It was a weird feeling – far from jealously. Guilt. A sense of shame rippled through your body as you watched him politely excuse himself and search the dance floor for you. I’m just going to the bathroom, you’d told him nearly twenty minutes ago. A little white lie to slip away but now, here you were, hiding from the man who loved you. Guilt-ridden.

“Can I sit?” You heard a loud voice ask, startling you out of your thoughts and into his chocolate brown eyes that were glistening under the dim lighting. Carlos Sainz.

“Of course. Congratulations on your win… you must be buzzing,” You leaned forward with praise, hoping he heard you over the loud music blasting through the speakers above.

He smiled in acknowledgement before taking a sip of his cocktail, “Ay, yes. Very happy but what makes me happier is to see little Lando so happy – he speaks of you a lot, you know? Doesn’t shut up sometimes…” Carlos trailed off with a knowing smirk, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows. He was tipsy.

“I’m sure he’ll hate you telling me that.” You returned the smile and grasped your glass for stability. There was something about what Carlos had said that made you nervous, pressured somehow when all he was doing was teasing his friend.

“I don’t get to make fun too much with him – so serious all the time but no,” Carlos mumbled, trying to keep track of his sentence, “Very happy he has found you.”

A couple of beats passed before you opened your mouth to speak but as you did, you felt a hand snake across your shoulder, sending a jolt down your spine before you turned to see who the hand belonged to. “Sneaking off with Sainz already? I thought you’d at least wait a couple of hours before leaving me for him.”

Lando was teasing and you knew that but Carlos in his drunken state waved his hands around like a madman, assuring his younger friend that he would do no such thing, to which Lando just snickered and brushed him off. She is beautiful though, Carlos loudly whispered, Lando's eyes catching yours as the Spaniard launched himself into his arms. It was comical and sweet the way the two of them stood there, silently hugging before Lando managed to escape his friends grip, slipping away as if nothing had happened and immediately meeting your eyes again.

“Wanna get out of here?” He mouthed; memories flashing back to the first time those words were muttered between the two of you – sparking this whole whirlwind romance. Of course you nodded, needing some fresh air and a new perspective, hoping the cloud of doubts swirling around in your subconscious for most of the night, and month, would just disappear.

The two of you hadn’t even made it through your front door before Lando’s hands were roaming your skin, fingertips leaving chills as they explored your body. You hadn’t had much to drink; a cocktail and a glass of bubbly in hospitality hours ago and Lando was the same – leaving the drinking to his mates like most of his nights out on the town. He wanted to have a clear mind for when he found himself alone with you, completely focused on the task at hand and soaking in every little detail so he could take that with him next weekend when he couldn’t roll over and have you whenever he felt like it. He hated leaving you like that – deprived of his touch.

“I don’t need foreplay,” You moaned into his mouth, breathless and needy as you straddled his lap – slowly grinding down and working you both into a whining mess. Lando had managed to lure you to the bedroom, mumbling something along the lines of your dog watching us fuck is a mood killer and you couldn't contest that. He loved taking you on the couch, hearing your screams echoing off the concrete walls downstairs but not tonight.

“That turned on for me, huh? Barely even touched you,” Lando teased while you lined him up, eyes never leaving his as you slid down and took every inch of him with ease. You nodded in response and leaned back, fingernails digging deep into his tensed thighs as you rocked back and forth, setting the pace and finding that angle that had you aching with pleasure.

“That’s feeling un-fucking-believable for me, baby. Holy shit…” Lando gasped, fingertips deeply entrenched in the skin on your hips, rolling them back and forward between his rough palms.

Eyes closed and bottom lip securely clenched between your front teeth suppressed the amount of pleasure you were feeling as he stretched you out, meeting your thrusts with a growl as you rode him. Lando struggled with relinquishing control, always wanting to be the one giving it to you on a silver platter, either missionary or hitting it from behind. And you loved that but you felt greedy for always being the lazy one, and after a long weekend, the least you could do was take some of the load off the gorgeous man whimpering below you. Begging you to come with him.

“I’ve been so pent up today, seeing you in that fucking dress and having you grinding up on me in the club. I nearly exploded in my fucking pants and right now, you feel so tight – so warm and I can’t hold on when you move like that… Jesus Christ,” Lando muttered and groaned, throwing his head back into your soft linen pillows, chuckling at how good you felt wrapped around his throbbing cock, clenching every time you bottomed out.

Lando lifted his head from the pillows he was buried in and licked the pad of his thumb before brushing it over your swollen clit and setting the bundle of nerves alight. He needed you to be where he was; desperately chasing your high and he could tell you weren’t quite there yet until he heard it – the tell tale sign that you were feeling as good as he was. It was a low moan, unlike any other sound he had ever heard before and it had him grinning like a Cheshire cat when it slipped past your beautifully parted lips. Angelically flushed face scrunched up in concentration as you chased your ecstasy and blocked out all of the thoughts rushing through your head. All you could think about now was your body bursting into flames.

Your name was falling from Lando’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut, mouth falling agape while he watched you start to unravel above him. His gaze was hindered by lust, vision blurry as grasped your hands that were pressed down on his perspiring chest, heart beating wildly under the taut skin. You could feel it thrumming against your palms, matching your pulse as you let the knot in the pit of your stomach detonate, pussy fluttering as your high hit with ferocity. Give it to me, you chanted over and over until you felt him filling you up, spilling out and giving you every drop you were desperately begging for.

"Fucking take it, baby. Take it all," Lando growled as you slowed your movements, sensitivity now making every stroke more and more unbearable – so much so that he had to still your hips while he composed himself, eyes closed and tongue licking his chapped lips.

You leaned down and kissed them, still warming his cock but knowing you needed to get up – the pain in your thighs urging you to stretch before you started cramping from straddling his lap for so long. There was something different in the way Lando looked at you as you got up from the bed. It was hard to decipher; several shades of emotions spread across his face, ones that he couldn’t quite express in the way he wanted. And one’s you maybe didn’t want to hear.

“What’s that look?”

Curiosity got the better of you.

But deep down there was a part of you that knew that look anywhere – the look of complete adoration. You’d seen it so many times before, most recently with your friend Rae and her husband; both of them being wholly and utterly in love with each other, til death do they part. There was no doubt in your mind that they were soul mates, destined to be together for the rest of their lives, living a full life in each other’s company. What they had was a happily ever after kind of love.

Lando propped his back up against your bedhead and smiled to himself as you slipped under the sheets beside him, “I was just thinking about how fucking perfect you are and that I’ve never felt like this before. Ever.”

But his face dropped when you looked away from him, avoiding his eye contact. “You know, you do that every time I say something like that.”

You sighed and reluctantly captured his gaze again, “Do what?”

“Look away from me, like you don’t want to admit to your feelings. Because I know you have them – I feel them every time you kiss me, every time you touch me and it’s different with you… You’re special to me. I think you might actually be–”

Without even thinking, your fingertips flew to Lando’s lips and stopped him mid sentence. You didn’t know what came over you – maybe panic, trying your best to mitigate the damages that you knew were inevitably going to come. It pained you to do it and it hurt even more when Lando’s dark blue eyes widened, as if a crushing weight had just come down and pummelled his spirit.

“Don’t say it.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Lando chuckled against your fingertips and through the pain, reaching up and tracing his thumb across your jawline with a strained smile, “Please let me finish.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” His voice was stronger, stare narrowed in faux confusion. He knew what was coming, he wasn’t entirely oblivious, but he had to play dumb; act like what you were about to say was the most ludicrous thing he’d ever heard and convince you that whatever had you worried, he could fix.

But you weren’t stupid. You knew that he had sensed your wavering, the diversions every time he proclaimed how much he cared about you, the little gestures of affection that left you awkwardly speechless. It wasn’t because you couldn’t express your feelings, hell, you were a grown ass woman and it wasn’t because you didn’t love him because deep down there was a part of you that did. And maybe in some alternate universe where you weren’t in your thirties and he wasn’t a young, hotshot driver, you could’ve waited for everything to fall into place. But that wasn’t your situation. It was complicated – too much so.

“You know why…”

He wasn’t expecting the tables to be turned back on him so quickly. But the realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks; of course you knew. Of course you could see right through him, like a ghost – you’d done that since the second he laid eyes on you, read him like an open book even when he thought he was being slick, as if you hadn’t experienced all of this before. He hated that you were two steps ahead with him always on the back foot and playing catch up. He should’ve known better than to call your bluff, putting on a brave face when all he wanted to do was rewind and follow your lead. Take it slow. Easy does it. Don’t scare her off.

But he loved you; Lando couldn’t hide that. You were different. You were special. You were everything he could’ve asked for and now he could feel you slipping away.

“Don’t do this to me.” He whispered; head titled and voice meek, unsteady. The façade had finally fallen, all cards laid out on the table for all to see. You couldn’t look at him after those words left his mouth, chills surging down your spine. The room was dark, lit only by the hallway light seeping through the open door but you could see him clear as day; shattering into tiny pieces and simultaneously trying to pick them up as they fell to the floor.

“You can’t do this – not now. We’re just starting to get into a rhythm. You said you wanted this and I thought it was going well, like, you are enjoying this, right? What’s changed?” He was desperate now, clutching at every straw in the pack, searching for answers while you sat silently, mustering up the energy to tell him the cold hard truth.

You sighed and grasped his hand, shaking as you interlaced your fingers. It was selfish to want him close while you broke his heart but you were hurting too; gut-wrenched and guilt ridden that you’d allowed it to go on for this long. Four months of pure bliss masked your reality, blinders shielding you from the truth.

“I guess tonight I realised how much you have left to experience and I can’t hold you back from all of that… You should’ve been dancing with those girls tonight, living it up while you still can, you know?”

“Frankly, I don’t.” Lando scoffed, shaking his head fervently, “Who do you think I am? Fuckin’... Joey Essex or something? I’m not a player. I’m not some guy who fucks around for the sake of it. If that’s who you think I am, then fuck me. You don’t know me at all, baby.” His voice was venomous with a hint of amusement and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

Because he was right.

“Okay so maybe you’re not Joey Essex,” You rolled your eyes, “But you’re young! And hot and rich and famous and… There’s so much more out there for you than settling for this. For me.”

“But I want you.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“I know that I’m in love with you.”

“You don’t know what love is.”

The longer the back and forth went on, the more nauseous you were becoming – whiplashed by words. You didn’t want to fight with him but he was adamant to fight for you, to convince you to forget about it for tonight. But your accusation that he didn’t know what love meant cut deep, slicing through his heart and belittling everything he’d done for you, how he felt about you. Undermining what you have together.

“Don’t treat me like a child. You don’t treat me like that when I’m making you scream my name or when you’re begging me to fuck you. So why are you doing it now?!” His voice was raised, teetering on the edge of a full-blown screaming match.

“Because I’ve been lying to myself! Telling myself that this was okay, that maybe we could make it work because you were so sweet, so charming. And I love what we’ve done together; you’ve made me feel alive again. But I’ve taken enough from you – you deserve more. And I deserve more – someone who isn’t away seven months out of the year; someone to start a family with and I can’t do that with you.”

A single tear silently rolled down your cheek and you hadn’t even realised that Lando was frozen in place, watching his world crumbling in around him. He wished he had the right words, prayed to a higher power to give him the words that would ease your mind and forget about the future until you realised you couldn’t live without him. But he wasn’t that lucky, not today, not ever – he just had to hold his ground and fight.

“I know that you’ve been in more relationships than me and I know that you’ve been fucked over more times than you deserve. One is too many since you are the single most beautiful person I have ever met.” Lando’s voice was low and faltering as he spoke, tears now prickling the corners of his eyes.

“But I want those things with you, maybe not right now but I see a future with you – I really fucking do. And I’ve tried to be that guy for you every single day since the moment we met but you haven’t let me. I want to be the guy you call in the middle of the night when you can't sleep – someone you can rely on. I’ll be the man you need me to be, I swear. Give me a chance to show you.”

Silence filled the dark room, distant sirens outside your window took some of the edge off but the tension was thick – suffocating as you threw the duvet off your legs, suddenly feeling like your chest was on fire, flushed red. You blinked a couple of times before burying your head in your hands, raking fingers through your tangled hair. There were no more tears, just unfiltered emotion running rampant in your mind, weighing up everything that had been said – figuring out where that left you. But like in the weeks leading up to this moment, you found yourself back at the same place every time. Broken.

And nothing could change the way you feel.

“Your future is my present, Lando. And I hate this – I don’t want this to be the end but I don’t have time and you have so much living left to do. I know that you can’t see that now but I promise you that I’m right. I promise you that you will forget about me and find someone worthy of your love, someone who can wait for you to be ready for all the things you want out of life – someone to share the journey with because I’ve missed all of that and if I could turn the clock back and start again with you, I would do it in a heartbeat because you are so much more than I could’ve ever asked for. But life is cruel and I can’t take those years away from you, I can't.”

There was an eerily long pause before Lando spoke, time really feeling like the burden it had always been.

“You’re right – I don’t understand.”

You wanted to shake him, make him believe your words more than anything but you remembered what you would’ve thought at twenty-three. Wide eyed and naïve, hearing the person you loved telling you that your feelings weren’t real and you hated to think that he would resent you for all of this; but of course he would. Why wouldn’t he?

“But it doesn’t change the way I feel about you.” Not yet, you thought.

“I know it doesn’t,” You barely whispered as Lando stood up to pull on his boxer briefs from the floor, feeling vulnerable and exposed, physically and emotionally.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked, solemn and quiet. Eyes hooded with fatigue as he gazed down at you in bed, arms limp at his sides while he waited for your answer; bated breath rushing through his lungs, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

You shook your head and gently patted the spot he’d left beside you. It was barely warm as your fingertips brushed over the white sheet, a subtle reminder of what it would feel like without him there, out of your life. Maybe it was immoral to tempt him back into your bed and it was definitely wrong to let him kiss you, to touch you, to make love to you until the sun came up. But the way he stared into your soul as he rested his weary head on your pillow, eyes pleading with you for one last memory together, you couldn’t refuse him that. You couldn’t deny him the closure he needed, if that was even something you could give.

One of the several alarms on your phone jolted you awake, the jingle making your stomach flip as you reached over and silenced it with a huff. Your head was thumping, eyes sealed shut with sleep, mind numbed and an ache between your thighs that reminded you of the events that transpired last night. You could be easily forgiven for the pang of regret coursing through your body as you remembered the words that were said in the heat of the moment. For pushing away the only good thing in your life at present.

A cold shiver travelling down your spine sent you on a mission to find that good thing, your hand reaching for the warm body you’d become so accustomed to feeling beside you.

But when you turned over, he wasn’t there – his side was cold, wrinkled. Empty.

You sat up in disbelief, eyes searching the room for any signs of life besides you. Lando? You called out and wrapped yourself up in a robe, thinking that maybe he was downstairs making a cup of tea or watching TV. For some reason, you hadn’t even considered the obvious as you walked around your apartment, looking in the kitchen and the courtyard, phone in your hand.

Maybe the harsh reality was too hard to stomach, too hard to comprehend. In hindsight it didn't seem that unbelievable, that for Lando, waking up next to you knowing it would probably be the last time he ever saw you was a painful memory he would rather not have locked away in his subconscious for the rest of his life.

And once reality hit, you stopped in your tracks. Stood still in your cold, lonely apartment once again. Tears streamed down your face when you came to grips with your own self-inflicted pain. Lando was gone. You knew it was for the best, better for both of you and in time that would become clearer; easier to bear. But what killed you the most was that there was no way of knowing if he was happier now than he was with you because you never heard from him again. Not a knock on your door, not even a drunken text. And you deserved that. You had no right to his life from that day on.

But all of the late nights, the stories, the deep, dark secrets and the whispered sweet nothings you had shared together haunted you for years, even after you married the love of your life.

Forever left wondering, what could’ve been?

a/n - i promise that i'll do happier lando fics in the near future but i hope you enjoyed this series and thank you again for all the support on it x lots of love! thoughts? feelings? i wanna know all of them! or click here for more of my writing if you liked this x

#lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #monzamashmasterlist #what could've been fic

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c0la-queen · 7 months ago

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HELLO!! I just wanted to say that I am absolutely IN LOVE with your works!!! 😭😭😭 its hard to even find EW fanfics nowadays and your fics have such high quality it’s like finding shiny, luxurious beautiful diamonds.

I genuinely love how you depict all of the characters so much I don’t think any other resonates with me as much as yours does, most Especially Tord. My god, you write him so well, his midly uncanny strange-esq demeanor and off-putting nature fits Perfectly with his character being a child solider and all, being subjected to the horrors of survival, war and being so close to death at such a young age growing up Would absolutely make him a little abnormal, like there’s something definitively wrong with him in that twisted mind of his. I love that truly.

I’ve been mega binging your works to read for fun and I love them so much— but most especially the Hybrid series I love SOOOO MUCHHHHH AGHHHH and I wanted to ask of you were going to continue it in any forms??? 🥹🥹🥹 like hcs, more drabbles, imagines or literally Anything frfr I beg of you 😭😭🙏 I love the wolfdog boys so much hicccc…

I ALSO SAW THAT YOU WERE ASKING IF WE WANTED REVERSE AU! WHERE READER IS THE HYBRID INSTEAD AND YES ABSOLUTELY I would love to see how the gang handles her and whatnot if you’d like to make that still whehehe, anything you want really!! 😭 thank you so much for your hard work and thank you even more if you manage to write these requests 💖💖💖🥹

USUEUSSJDJ YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME WAAAAH!! Sometimes I get a little insecure about my writing, so to hear all the sweet things you guys say always makes my entire day!! And hearing you say that about my Tord is literally one of the highest forms of praise I've ever received!! I'll probably make some more content of the Hybrid Boys as well, since I love this Hybrid AU a lot! But for now, here's a drabble of Hybrid Reader that I've been working on for a little bit!!! I hope you enjoy!! Mwah mwah!!

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Stray Bunny | Eddsworld x Reader

Warnings: Drunk Tom, Reader is a bunny hybrid because I love bunnies fight me, the boys are victim to the Hybrid Distribution System

Words: 1.4k

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You didn't know where to go. You didn't have anywhere to go. The rain was going to start falling soon.

Worst of all, you were stuck in your shifted form. A mixture of anxiety, paranoia, and hopelessness had caused you to shift by pure instinct, and you couldn't get yourself to calm down enough to go back.

So you just... run. Run down the sidewalk as the rain droplets begin to fall, dodging between pedestrians' legs. You didn't know where you were going, but you knew you had to go somewhere.

The harder the rain fell, the less people were on the streets. Rushing home and ducking into nearby shops to take shelter until the storm eased up. A few brave umbrella wielders kept walking, determined to finish their journey.

Every drop that splashed against your body soaked into your fur, weighing it down and making your running more difficult. You were passing a building when suddenly the door was thrown open aggressively, making you yelp and scramble to a stop.

You watched as a young man staggered out of the building. From the smell and the sounds and the brief peek you got through the door, it was a pub. The man was unsteady on his feet, you wouldn't be surprised if he was absolutely piss drunk right now.

Not wanting to get tangled in his feet, you stopped, stepping back to wait for him to pass. He whistled a tune, fishing a cigarette box out of his pocket and popping one in between his teeth -

-before stopping. And staring.

At you.

Surely he was piss drunk because instead of being disgusted or angry - or anything else you expected, really - he immediately dropped his unlit cigarette to the ground without a care in the world. He crouched in front of you, starting to coo and baby talk.

You were too confused to even process what he was saying - he was too drunk to know what he was saying, either.

Next thing you knew, you were being scooped up into his hands. He continued to coo and talk as he pressed his cheek against your fur.

The sound of car tires drew your attention. You peeked up in time to see car headlights pulling into the parking lot of the pub. At the sight, the man holding you tucked you safely into his hood. You made a sound, but he just giggled and shushed you.

You couldn't complain too much, though. It was warm, and dry.

"Tom, mate, you look like shit."

"And you, Matt, look like the queen."

"You've definitely had too many drinks. Get in the car."

Surprisingly, the drunk man - Tom, it seemed - took care not to smush you against the carseat. Slowly, your panic began to subside. The warmth of the AC and the gentle movements of the car driving down the road eventually lulled you to sleep.

You jolted awake when Tom began moving again. The car had stopped, apparently reaching its destination. You couldn't see anything but the dark blue fabric, so you weren't quite sure where you were.

Was this the safest choice you could've made? No. But, in your mind, it was better than the streets.

"Matt. How many bloody drinks did he have?"

"Don't ask me. He wasn't very conversational in the car."

"Fuckin' hell."

Tom's movements stopped for a moment. Then, he was falling. Well, you were both falling. You squeaked as you tumbled out of his hood, rolling onto the carpeted floor below. Whatever conversation had been going on above you stopped.

"Is that... a rabbit?"

You righted yourself, shaking your head to get your ears out of your face. It was a house that you were in, more specifically a living room. Tom was laying on his stomach on a couch. He must have drunkenly flopped down onto it, causing you to fall out of his hood.

Two more men were standing beside the couch. Staring at you in disbelief. You attempted to shrink in on yourself, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

"Edd, the poor thing is soaked. Look at how it's trembling. We can't get rid of it."

"I wasn't planning on it. Jesus, I'm not heartless."

The man named Edd crouched down next to you, gently picking you up in his hands. His fingers smoothed over your head, gently scratching at the base of your ear. Embarrassing as it was, you fucking melted.

"Of course Tom would get drunk and bring an animal home. I'm just glad it's not something rabid."

"I'll go get a towel to dry them off. The poor dear is probably freezing."

While the other man disappeared down a hall, the one holding you carried you over to the kitchen.

"I'm sure you're hungry. Rabbits like carrots, don't they? I don't know how realistic that portrayal is."

You couldn't help but huff at that. It was an annoying stereotype in your opinion - though you did enjoy the taste of carrots regardless.

"Rabbits are herbivores. They'll eat any kind of vegetable or plant you offer them."

Edd set you down on the counter as he opened the fridge.

"Nice of you to join the land of the living, Tord."

The newest addition to the room scared you the most. He was intimidating looking, muscular and mean. His cold eyes were fixed on you.

When he approached, you backed away slightly. Noticing this, he made sure to lift his hand slowly, extending a finger out to you. You watched his hand move cautiously. He slid his finger under your head, gently scratching your chin. To your horror, your back foot thumped against the counter.

You were going to die of embarrassment.

Tord's lips quirked up in a small, amused smile.

"Do I even want to know why there is a bunny in the kitchen?"

"Tom's drunk."

"Ah."

Matt eventually returned with a towel.

The three men absently chatted as Matt gently and thoroughly dried your soaked fur. You were completely relaxed in his hold. He even made sure to be especially careful drying your ears.

Yeah, there were definitely worse things than this.

In your relaxed state, you didn't quite account for just how much you had calmed down. Before you knew it, you had suddenly shifted back into your normal form.

The three men froze. You froze.

"....hi."

The longer the silence stretched out, the more fear built up inside of you. What if they were angry? What if they threw you out? What if they hurt you?

As possibilities ran through your head, tears started to well in your eyes.

"What the fuck."

The dam broke. Tears flooded down your cheeks, sobs catching in your throat.

The three men jumped into action. Matt drew you into his arms, holding you securely.

"Tord! Look what you did!"

"Me?? What did I do??"

"You scared the poor thing! I can feel her trembling."

"I feel like my response was very reasonable."

One plate of carrots and ranch later, and your tears had been calmed. Having tired yourself out, you were lying comfortably in Edd's lap in an armchair. Matt and Tord were sitting on the couch. They had moved Tom to a makeshift bed on the floor where they could keep an eye on him until he was sober.

Edd's fingers ran through your hair, smoothing out any knots he found. Occasionally he would scratch at the base of your ears, making you hum happily.

Amongst your tears earlier, Matt had managed to coax your story out of you. Now, they were deciding what to do.

"She doesn't have a handler, Edd. We can't just turn her away."

"I know, Matt. I don't want to kick her out."

The two men looked at Tord expectantly.

"What?"

"No dissenting opinions?"

"Of course not. I'm not a fucking monster."

"What about Tom?"

Edd glanced down at the fourth man.

"He's forfeiting his vote."

With that, Edd gently cupped your cheeks and tilted your head up to look at him. Through the sleepy haze of your vision, you saw him give you a gentle smile.

"What's your vote, bunny? Do you wanna stay here with us?"

Did you? These were four men that you didn't know. Despite that, they had been kinder to you than anyone had been in a long time.

You didn't have to think long about your answer.

You nodded, slow and lazy as you fought against sleep.

Edd laughed softly, settling you back down.

"Get some sleep, love. You're alright now. We've got you.”

Taking those words to heart, you slept better than you had in months.

#eddsworld #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld tord #eddsworld tord x reader #eddsworld tom #eddsworld matt #eddsworld tom x reader #eddsworld edd #eddsworld matt x reader #eddsworld edd x reader #requested #hybrid au

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