#if you need ME i will be on the FLOOR thank you
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atsumu opens the door to his house and is greeted by silence and a dark first floor. it’s to be expected; it’s nearly midnight, and he got stuck in traffic on the way back home from practice.
toeing off his shoes by the door, he leaves the keys to his car on the console table and uses the flashlight on his phone to help him navigate in the darkness. he climbs up the stars and hears muffled voices. it sounds like a movie.
the upstairs hallway is fairly lit, so he uses the sound to guide him to his child’s door. gently, he turns on the knob and pokes his head in. there’s a laptop playing a children’s movie on the desk, a flurry of toys on the floor, and a mother and child snuggled on the bed.
“hey, sweetheart,” he greets softly, grinning when he catches his daughter’s attention and she perks up.
“mommy,” she says, tiny hands tapping her dozing mother’s cheek. “mommy, daddy’s here.”
—
“mommy,” your daughter calls again, and your eyes blearily blink open. “mommy, it’s daddy!”
you twist your head and smile sleepily when your gaze lands on your husband. “hi, tsum.”
“hi, baby,” he greets, slipping inside and dropping his gym bag by the door. he moves to sit but his daughter stops him.
“no, daddy,” she whines. “you can’t go on my bed. you’re dirty!”
you snort while he blinks, and you push yourself up to sit.
it takes him a while to process what she just said. “i’m not dirty!” atsumu protests, placing his hands on his hips. “i’m clean! i changed clothes before i left the gym—”
“no,” she says, wrinkling her nose and pointing to his bag by the door. “you have to shower.”
“these clothes are clean—”
“nooooo,” she whines, slapping the cushion in frustration. “shower!”
“but mommy’s on the bed and i wanna be on the bed, too—”
“but mommy’s clean!” she whines again. “shower, daddy!” she extends the r of the word shower, baring her teeth in a scowl.
his jaw drops, then he turns to gape at you. “you’re not gonna say anything?”
you tamp down your smile and shrug. “it’s easier if you just do as she says. i had to shower before i even entered her room.”
“where did you learn this?” he asks, turning back to his daughter with disbelief. “i bet it was from your grandma, ‘cause your mom ain’t as much of a neat fre—”
“okay!” you interrupt him, climbing off the bed before your daughter could expand her vocabulary. “i’ll make sure your dad bathes, sweetheart.” you lean down to kiss your daughter’s forehead.
“thank you, mommy,” she says sweetly, kissing your cheek.
“what about my kiss?” atsumu asks, shouldering his bag and frowning.
“shower first,” his daughter says resolutely.
“jesus,” atsumu mumbles under his breath, low enough that his daughter can’t make it out, and you herd him to step outside the door.
you laugh when it clicks shut behind you. “it’s your bag, you know,” you mention, walking alongside him. “whenever she sees it, that’s when she thinks you’re dirty.”
“why? i spray this thing all the time with the little—” he makes a spritzing-like motion with his fingers. “what’s it called? the thing you gave me.”
“deodorizer?”
“yeah!”
“smelling deodorized and smelling clean are different,” you point out, then point to your bedroom. “go. shower.”
he sighs in dismay, but true to himself, he's not down for long. he wiggles his eyebrows in your direction. “care to join me?”
you roll your eyes. “nice try. i’m gonna put your gross clothes in the laundry room.”
he brightens. “i can do that! after we shower together, that is.”
you sour. “and let the stink simmer? no way.” you reach out your hand. “give it to me; i’ll do it.”
he pouts a little. “but it’ll be more fun if we shower together!”
“no.”
“come on! for me?”
it's almost emasculating, seeing him beg like this, but your gaze is stone cold serious. “no.”
he grumbles in defeat and hands his bag over. “fine. but just so you know, i’m not a happy husband right now and you’ll need to make up for the lack of love and commitment at some point.”
“i give you plenty,” you say with finality before turning on your heel and heading down the stairs.
“you promised for better or for worse and i am going to collect!” he calls after you.
"shower first, then we'll discuss my marital commitments."
#not event related but i thought i'd repost this since part 3 of this is holiday themed#atsumu x reader fluff#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#x reader#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff#haikyuu fic#haikyuu x reader fluff#📝 — my writing#atsumu fluff#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader
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More?
I edited this on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes
He ducked his head down, and you swore you could see a blush creeping up around his eyes, the only skin you can see thanks to the mask. “Not here. We’re in public.”
“I know. Come back to my place, and show me.”
“I… can’t leave my guys, I’m out with them…”
“Where?”
He furtively glanced over his shoulder, then pointed. “Over there, at the table in the corner.”
“Okay. I’ll just go have a word with them.”
“Wait-!”He reached out to stop you as you stand up. You took this as an opportunity to grab his hand and pull him off the barstool, forcing him to trail along behind you as you made a beeline for the table he pointed out.
The three men sat there looked up curiously as you approached, knowing that you’re heading for them, as you have Simon in tow. One of them, the oldest looking thanks to his beard, opened his mouth as you stood at the table edge, until you held up a finger.
“I’m taking him home with me.” You tighten your grip on Simon’s hand, making sure he makes eye contact with them from where he’s stood behind you. “Don’t wait up.”
Then, you turned and walked away, not waiting for their reply, tugging Simon along with you as you headed for the exit door.
“That was… that was cool.” Simon said you as you both exit the bar onto the street, a smile spreading across your face as he grips your hand back for the first time.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean… they’re all going to be sitting back there, asking how the hell I was the one to get so lucky.”
“If you think you’ve won by landing me, you can say it without putting words in other’s mouths.”
“No, seriously. Johnny’ll be all,” he cleared his throat, coating his next words with a half passing scottish accent, “how does he land that by just walking up and staring at them?”
You laughed, leaning your body against his side, arms knocking together awkwardly as you lead the way back to your place. “I’ll be needing to have words with Johnny, then. You paid the right kind of compliment, and listened to me talk.”
He chuckled lightly, and you were sure that if you had better light than the dull orange street lights, you’d be able to see him blushing again.
As you approach your building, you moved half a step ahead of Simon, pushing the door open and leading him up the stairs to your apartment, all the way up on the eighth floor. You opened your door, in all its peeling red paint glory, and let Simon inside, swearing under your breath when the door gets stuck again when you try to close it.
“Let me.” Simon leant over you, placing his palm against the door and shoving, the traitorous thing giving way so he could close it with ease. He turned the keys to lock it, before turning and presenting the jangling collection of keychains back to you. You chuckled and hung them on the hook before taking his hand again, and tugging him towards your bedroom.
“Get that jumper off, now, yeah?” You tugged at the cuff with your fingers, slowing to a stop and smiling as you watched him reach up and drag the hoodie up over his shoulders, dropping it to the floor and shaking his head. Blonde hair flopped back and forth across his brow with the movement, your eyes widening as you realised that mask he’d been wearing had gotten caught up with it. You reached out and cupped his chin, tilting his head up to face you. “Of course you’re pretty too.”
He chuckled, already blushing again as he reached up and tugged his shirt off too, revealing the top of his tattoo sleeve, how the flaming skulls and guns continued to run up over his skin, trailing your fingers over it as you pushed him back by his shoulders, going right into your bedroom.
“Nice stuff.” You shove him back so the back of his knees hit your bed, making your intent clear if you hadn’t already, only turning away long enough to snap your lamp on before, finally, moving your eyes to his chest. He had some other tattoos beside the sleeve, smaller, older looking ones that seemed to follow the same military style as each other, until you looked at the one that swirled out above his heart.
“Yeah.” He saw where you were looking as he sat down on your bed, looking up at you as he brought a hand up to it, almost unconsciously. “That’s my newest one.”
He said, but you could tell that it was already several years old, by your make. Definitely newer than the sleeves, though, and in a very different style.
“Did you get it for someone?”
He nodded, pressing his fingers against it, his eyes darting away from yours. “My family. My mum, my brother, his wife and kid. I lost them… few years ago.”
“Fuck… I’m sorry.” You gently sat next to him, moving your gaze away from it. That’s one way to kill a mood. Asking about a guys dead family.
“Have got anything like that?” He murmured, to fill the silence.
You reached up and tugged the collar of your shirt down, tapping the ribbon that was drawn to look like it dipped beneath your skin and wrapped around your collar bone. “Lost a good friend of mine. It was supposed to be matching, but he… never got it done.”
The story spills out of your lips almost before you could stop it. You’d never actually told anyone what it had meant before. Maybe, it was only out of obligation, because he’d told you about his. Or, you just finally needed to tell it to someone, and in that moment had found someone who would get it.
“Damn. Asshole move, that.”
You laughed, leaning against his side as he locked his arm around your shoulder. “Glad someone said it. Can’t badmouth a dead guy… or demand that he pay the cost of you covering it.” You chuckled, letting go of your collar again.
“Any other good ones?” You tilted your head up at his question, and caught Simon spying down the gap of your shirt.
“Less depressing ones, you mean?” You undid your shirt, tossing it off and unsnapping your bra as you shuffled back up your bed. “Take a look.”
He followed you eagerly, trying and failing to keep his eyes on your ink rather than your boobs. “I take it you like snakes? I got… one, two, three… four, five…”
He counted, tapping each of the snakes he found on your skin.
“Huh. Never thought about it. Guess i do…” You giggled as his fingers brushed over your side, counting snake number fourteen.
“Ticklish?”
“If you still want to land tonight, no.”
“Noted.” He withdrew his hand, biting his lip as he stared at your tits, moving slowly up and down ever so slightly as you breathed. “Doesn’t it hurt? Getting it done there?”
“Oh for sure. But, you only have to do it once.” You sigh, shifting up as you kick your jeans off too, leaving you in just your knickers, revealing your legs too. “Besides, I thought my thighs were way worse.”
He nodded slowly, only half listening as he trailed a hand down one of your thighs, rolling the skin over as he found your last free real estate. “Run out of ideas?”
“Yeah.” You sigh, rolling the leg up into his touch as he inspects the blank space, his fingers catching against your panty line.
“I don’t have any one my legs, yet.” He mused, flicking his fingers up under the elastic and tugging on the seam, pulling the material tight against your skin.
“Really? Prove it.” You sit back, drawing your legs up to your chest, hiding your nudity from him, smiling as you watched him grumble and shuck his jeans off, boxers along with it, as he spread his pale, muscly legs in front of you, cock bobbing between them.
“Damn…” you murmured. “Lots of real estate there, huh?”
“Sure.” He shivered, shuffling closer to you. “Maybe, we solve two birds with one stone. Get something matching.”
You chuckled, kicking your legs out again and tucking yourself forward between his legs, eyeing his thick cock. “Or we could fuck.”
He nodded. “Or that.”
“Come here.” You reached out, and he leant into your arms, curling up against you as you kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tasted the remnants of whiskey on his lips and tongue when it darted in between your teeth, dragging you into his lap.
His dick rubbed against the front of your underwear, a groan leaving his lips as you felt his hand dip beneath the elastic again, pulling on it harder than he had before, as he leant back.
“Do you like these?”
“Uh…” you shook your head and looked down at them. “Dunno? They’re fine, i suppose.”
“You won’t miss them then?”
“Sure, no.” You said, then gasped, clutching at the back of his neck as he promptly tore them off you, first at the left side, then the right before he tugged the scrap of material out from between your legs and tossing it aside.
Simon pried your arms from around his head, using your shock to drop you back to the bed, freeing up his hand so he could dip his fingers in between your legs, sighing as he found your clit and pinched it.
You shivered under his hands, head spinning from how fast he’d turned the tables on you. Simon was just surprised that he wasn’t the one shaking, that bis hands weren’t trembling as he brushed them over your skin, marvelling at the stark difference between his skin, and the heavily inked one beneath it, covered in snakes, flowers, a misshapen platypus, a racoon with a gun, a dragon sleeping on a mound of gold, among so many more.
“Oi… what you’re waiting for?” You murmured, gazing up at him.
“Oh… sorry.” He smiled, reaching down for one of your legs, locking one hand under your knee and folding your leg up against your body, quickly followed by the other one as he slid his dick between your folds, finding your cunt and sinking his dick straight into it.
The movement punching the breath from your throat as your back arched, the tension quickly dropping as you felt like you went boneless as Simon relentlessly fucked his cock into you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin where he was holding your legs up as he shushed you, only letting you lower your legs when his hips were settled against your ass, and you were indescribably full of cock. He smiled you and you, rubbing his thumb over your cheek as your brain tried to describe it anyway, to put into rational terms the explanation as to how you’d ended up here, and not on top.
“Where… where’s this come from?” You gasped out, hips bucking as your cunt squeezing tight around him.
“What?” He leant down over you, jostling his dick inside you. “Where’d what come from?”
“This!” You hit his shoulder, groaning as he leant down again, the blunt shape of his abs putting a tiny bit of pressure on your clit as it got trapped between your bodies. “You coming up to me, all shy and awkward, then you pull… this!”
Simon chuckled, eyes sparkling even in the dim light as he leant down even further, laying his body on top of yours sp he could kiss you, gently hushing you, nudging his nose against your cheek. “Im not good at introductions.”
You laughed, then gasped as he rolled his hips slightly, hands coming up to clutch at his arms. “Then… it’s good that you’re good at everything else.”
“I’ll say.” He murmured back, kissing you again. “You comfy?”
You nodded. “But happy to be… less.”
“Like it rough then?”
“I can take it.”
“I’ll take your word for it, love.” He leant close to your ear. “Don’t want to hear you complaining, though.”
“You won’t.” You lock your hands around his arms, digging your fingers into his skin.
“Good.” He chuckled back and sat back up, tucking himself up on his knees, raising your hips up with him, the change making you gasp before the slow backwards drag of his hips made you whine. You’d been so full, you didn’t know what you would do if you weren’t, so you tried to lock your legs around his hips and keep him inside of you, but it did nothing. His hips were pure muscle, and they were fucking his cock in and out of you like a he was a machine designed for it, up to and including his soft smile as he stared down at you, watching you fall apart around his dick, clenching and moaning, cumming, barely able to keep your eyes open, vision blurring as you stared up at the man above you, his hair glowing in the lamplight as the bed creaked violently beneath you, almost certainly pissing off your neighbours, even as it masked the sound his cock and your cunt were making. It didn’t do anything for the sound of his skin meeting your skin, so it was sure to be an awkward conversation with them too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in that moment. Any embarrassment you could have felt was being washed away by giddy joy at the man you’d found, the one currently fucking you as hard as he could, the one that had lost his shy streak at just the right time to fuck you stupid, shaking your grip off one of his arms so he could drag his fingers down over your skin again, on a quest to find your clit and scientifically determine the best angle to rub it at, sending your mind white with pleasure, shaking and curling under his touch, cumming hard again as he chuckled over you, only relenting when you swung your arm, your hand pathetically colliding with his side, a tear rolling down your cheek as he leant down and kissed you, grunting as he came inside you, making the one bit of clarity you had left thank god for birth control as you locked your arms around his neck, keeping him close to you as he pulled out of you and rolled to the side, panting heavily.
You lay your head on his chest, as he kept his hand cupped over your cunt so you leaked onto him and not your sheets, a mournful look coming over his face as you cuddled up to his side.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stay long.” He mumbled, tilting his head up as he looked for a clock.
“It’s alright.” You patted his side, already yawning. “You just stay as long as you can.”
He’d stayed for ten bloody years. And counting, given that he’d married you. Eventually. Even got that tattoo you’d talked about the first night you’d met. Flowers and skulls, matching yours, flowing down his thigh, out from his boxers as he stood at the stove, frying bacon. You were lying on the sofa still trying to catch your breath from how he’d fucked you seven ways to Sunday, and he was already up, showered and cooking bacon for you. You shook your head, shifting the cushion behind your head. Thank god he was shit at introductions. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.
Ghost introducing himself to a heavily tattooed reader by just sitting down next to them and saying, ‘I’m Simon. I like your tattoos.’
He gives absolutely zero further interaction, just staring at the reader’s ink until they start explains what each one means, pointing out the little details for him to admire.
Ghost who panics when the reader asks if he has any tats of his own, worried that you’ll think his stuff is dumb, cliche military shit. With enough bugging, he’ll push his sleeves up and let the reader gush over him too, his brain freezing again when they poke his chest and ask to see the rest, too.
#simon ghost riley x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#cod mw2#call of duty#cod simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#cod#reader#tattoos#continuation
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—❀ ‧₊˚. 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅
genre: fluff, sfw
word count: 850
characters: aventurine, boothill, sunday, dr ratio
notes: this is just soft random thoughts i have about them and needed to write down, no theme in particular, dr ratio wearing glasses does things to me (*≧ω≦*), special thank to my irl friend charlotte (<3) for proofreading this ! divider credit to @/cafekitsune ♡
─ ⊹ ⊱ Aventurine ⊰ ⊹ ─
Owning himself plenty of jewelry, such as rings or expensive watches, it makes sense that Aventurine would want to gift his lover all kind of sumptuous pieces. Over the years, he has had you displayed with pearly necklaces, the shiniest earrings and even rings with precious gemstones. Undoubtedly you loved every single one of them. Each gift Aventurine has given you were meaningful to you, as a symbol of his deep affection for you. However, you must admit you have a favorite one. A gift from one of your anniversary that you adore more than anything. It might be the most classic piece of jewelry you own in term of appearance, but it holds a special place in your heart.
The gift is a bracelet, a thin gold chain gold with a small aventurine stone at its center. Beyond the fact that it is his stone, what's making this gift even more significant is that Aventurine has one as well. While you wear yours on your left, he wears his on his right wrist below his watch. He intented for the two of you to share matching bracelets you could wear daily and that was subtle enough only the two of you could really notice it through your other extravagant jewels. Since then, one glance at the aventurine bracelet on your wrist and your heart skips a beat ♡
─ ⊹ ⊱ Boothill ⊰ ⊹ ─
Every other day, Boothill finds himself mesmerized by the way you take care of your hair. Whether you brush it, braid it, decore it with accessories, he watches from afar with the softest glare. The one reserved for you, and you only.
Today is one of those where you've decided to use the cute ribbons you have recently purchased. Sitting confortably in front of your mirror, you feel Boothill's eyes on you as you display the cute accessories on the floor. "Which color do you think I should wear today ?" "Don't know, sugar. They'd all look fudgin' nice in your pretty hair" "That's very helpful thank you, baby". Boothill snickers, his attention splits between his gun he's been checking for a few mintues, and watch you clip a white and pink ribbon to the side of your head, securing a little braid. Fork, she looks so cute like this, he thinks to himself. Oblivious to your overheating cyborg boyfriend next to you, you finish your hairstyle and spin around with a "tadaaa !" only to find him dumbfounded and an adorable flush spreading on his cheeks. "Forkin' hell ! Got myself the prettiest gurl ain't I ?" Naturally, it ended with you pampering his face with kisses and he even lets you tie ribbons in his hair as well ♡
─ ⊹ ⊱ Sunday ⊰ ⊹ ─
Dearest Sunday was always a bit of a control freak, until he met you. Well he still is one but ever since you've become a couple, his controlling demeanour has somewhat softened. Your presence clearly helped him feel loved and needed, satisfying the yearn to be someone's special one. In the intimacy of your relationship, he has grown more laid-back, to the point of allowing you to touch his precious wings.
This has become one of your favorite ways to demonstrate your love, carefully and tenderly caressing his feathers. They're so delicate you often worry you'll hurt him, but it actually helps Sunday relax. "Do not worry, my angel. Think of it as a hug. It is warm and very comforting for me" he once reassured you. Afterwards, it became a routine for the two of you. Sunday coming home from an exhausting day, you helping him rest by gently stroking his pretty wings. You even make sure to rub the base, where the tiniest feathers are, and the contented sighs he releases reassure you that you’re doing a really good job ♡
─ ⊹ ⊱ Dr Ratio ⊰ ⊹ ─
Usually, when you look at Veritas, the words circulating in your mind are often along the lines of handsome, gorgeous, sexy, serious..... angry. However in the evening, it's different. Sitting in his favorite comfy chair, he pulls you onto his his lap and puts on his glasses to read. You're aware you should focus on your own book but those glasses perched on top of his nose are seriously distracting you. This time, your mind fills with nothing but cute cute cute cute cuuuute. Obviously, he feels your stare on him –of course he does– it's not like you're being subtle anyway. Still, he pretends to act oblivious until you're the one bringing it up.
As he turns a page of his book, you shift on his lap. "Come on. Say it." His tone is serious, yet playful. "You... Cute." You blurt out, immediatly covering your face to cover the prominent blush on your face. "Darling, have you lost your ability to form full sentences ?" His cocky smirk making your blush worsen, nuzzling your head on his neck to hide it. Smiling down at your pouting and flushed face, he returns his attention back to his book. Although you go back to reading as well, he knows you’re sneaking glances at him every so often ♡
/!\ don't steal, translate or repost this and claim it as you own /!\
#my post ⭑.ᐟ#hsr x reader#aventurine x reader#boothill x reader#sunday x reader#dr ratio x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x you
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Self Control: Part Thirteen - Arrival
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: After months of waiting, the moment is finally here. You and Jessie welcome your newborn daughter into the world.
Warnings: Difficult labour. Graphic birth. Language.
A/N: Thank you to everyone for sticking with me so long on this journey. And thank you to everyone who answered the poll about the baby's name weeks ago!
The final whistles blew and Jessie braced her hands on her knees as she took a moment to breathe. She looked up in disappointment at the scoreboard, but soon rallied and began high fiving her teammates.
She did her rounds around the pitch with the team to thank and greet the fans and the stadium lights shone brightly by the time she and the team started filtering into the tunnel.
She walked over to her cubby and retrieved her phone first thing. You were days away from your due date and knew to call the staff if you went into labour - they’d get Jessie off the pitch right away - still, she worried.
Two texts from you. No missed phone calls though. That was a good sign.
Jess. Contractions have started.
The midwife’s on her way. Don’t panic. My water hasn’t broken and we know this could be hours and hours. I’ll call if things escalate.
Jessie stood frozen. Her eyes were wide and her phone sat idle in her hand. She didn’t even think she was breathing.
Then, all of a sudden, she snapped back to the moment and spun on her heels in a rush to start gathering her things, inadvertently tripping over the bench and careening into Janine who was standing nearby.
“Hey!” Janine complained as she rubbed her shoulder. Jessie was already scrambling back to her cubby by the time the blonde even turned around.
“I-I’ve gotta go,” Jessie stammered as she shakily threw belongings into her backpack. She rushed towards the exit, belatedly realizing she didn’t have shoes on and cursed, running back.
“Whoa,” Janine frowned as Jessie tried to stomp into her shoes and soon haphazardly tried to guide them on with trembling hands. “Everything good?”
Jessie was short of breath as her eyes darted across the floor absently as she now palmed at her pockets.
“Where are my keys…,” she mumbled as she spun on the spot looking around wildly.
“Jess,” Janine spoke firmly as she waved in the girl’s face, belatedly drawing Jessie’s attention up to her. Janine spoke measuredly. “What’s going on?”
Jessie’s mouth was dry as she opened it to speak, nothing coming out initially. “Y/N-Y/N’s in labour.”
“Oh shit,” Janine said, her own eyes growing wide before more shock settled in. “Wait. When?!”
“I-I don’t know!” Jessie replied, voice and emotions rising. “During the game sometime?” Her words tapered as she absently fetched her phone in an attempt to check the timestamp of your message, but fumbled it onto the floor instead. “Fuck.”
“Okay, hold on,” Janine said holding up both hands. Jessie dodged around her and started tearing her bag apart looking for her keys.
“I have to go,” she said curtly.
“I will drive you,” Janine told her. “You’re…frazzled. Let me drive you home. You can reset on the drive.”
Jessie opened her mouth to speak as she tried to process the offer and the consequences of it. She found herself shaking her head before she could find the words.
“No. I - we need the car. If something goes wrong…,” she trailed off, now digging in her pockets again in vain.
Janine reached out and calmly grabbed keys off the shelf of her cubby.
“Looking for these?” She gave her a pointed look. “I’m driving you. I will drive your car and I can get a ride from one of the girls back to my place. Now let’s go.”
The blonde had Jessie by the arm as soon as she finished speaking and began calmly ushering her out of the locker room, quickly speaking to Sam and communicating the plan as she walked out. The locker room immediately erupted into a buzz of activity at the news, and Janine held up her arm to keep them at bay.
“You’ll get updates soon, I’m sure,” she called over her shoulder. “Baby Fleming will be here soon, everyone. But not too soon!”
Jessie’s heart raced and she peered over her shoulder to see the team wishing her and you luck and to call if you needed anything.
She felt jittery and like her limbs were numb as they walked briskly to her car. As she was getting in she saw Sam running out to her own car saying she’d follow so she could drive Janine back.
“Baby convoy!” Janine announced brightly as she started the car. Meanwhile, Jessie was still short of breath as she fumbled with the seatbelt.
She closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath, finally getting her seatbelt on and feeling her pulse start to even out.
“I can’t believe she didn’t call,” Jessie breathed as she pushed her head back into the headrest, palms braced on her thighs and eyes closed as she worked to steady her nerves.
Janine snickered slightly as she manoeuvred them towards the house.
“Sounds like you’re more panicked than her,” she teased, drawing a dark glare from Jessie.
“Or,” she drew out her word in emphasis, “she’s not taking this seriously enough. How can she be so nonchalant? What the fuck.”
“Get it out of your system, because you’re going to have to be calm and supportive from here on it,” Janine told her. She gave her friend a purposeful look as she drove. "And I know you - when shit gets crazy and there's chaos, you are the calm in all of that."
Jessie gave a shaky exhale before accepting with a few nods, trying to let Janine's words sink in and reassure her. She took one more steadying breath before bringing the phone up to her ear to call you.
The phone rang several times before you picked up. You'd hardly greeted her before Jessie spoke over you.
"Babe, why didn't you call me? Are you okay? Is the midwife there yet? How far apart the contractions? Are you alright?"
So much for calm.
"Jess." You spoke firmly, but patiently waiting her out and forcing a lull before continuing. "I am fine. No, Theresa's not here. Contractions are still 20 minutes apart and only lasting about 40 seconds. I talked to her though. It's just early labour. She'll come when I'm between 5 and 10 minutes, and that could be hours away."
A mixture of relief and apprehension flooded Jessie's system. You were fine. But at the same time, your contractions had started. It was time. And she wasn't there.
"Okay," she managed to say as she forced a smile and hoped it filtered into her voice as well. "I'm on my way right now. I'm probably 10 minutes away."
"Alright," you said. "Drive safe. You don't need to rush - just get here safely."
"Oh, well, Janine-"
"Oh fuck."
"What?" Jessie cut in, alarm cresting inside of her as she sat forward in her seat and her breath caught.
"Um," you said, "my water just broke."
"Oh fuck," Jessie echoed. She held out her hand to calm herself more than anything. "Okay. Okay - I'll be there right away, Y/N."
"Mmnh," she heard you grimace into the phone as a contraction hit you.
"Babe," Jessie said helplessly, leaning her elbow on her thigh and cupping her face. The line was silent and it was killing her. "How bad is it? Are you okay?"
"...Yep," you said through grit teeth. Jessie sighed in frustration.
"Baby, why didn't you call me?" She implored weakly. "I should be there right now. It's just a stupid football game. I love you and I should've been there this whole time with you."
"Mm, if it’s alright with you we can fight about this later. I’m trying to have your baby right about now," you said.
"Fuck. I'm sorry," Jessie said, her nerves immediately settling as she recentered herself. "We're only a few streets away. I'll be there soon, babe."
"I know, love," you said with an audible, drawn out breath. "Okay. It's over."
Jessie found herself exhaling along with you. She kept you company on the phone and soon pulled up to the front of your house.
"Call if you need anything," Janine told her as she got out of the car to give her a hug and give her the keys. "I'm serious."
"Yes, of course," Jessie said distractedly, her eyes focused on the front door and hurriedly drawing herself out of her friend's embrace to get to you. She was halfway down the walk when she turned, walking backwards still towards the door. "You're good to get home?"
"My ride's right here," Janine assured her as she pointed to Sam pulling around the corner. "You've got this! Give us updates when you can!"
"Alright," Jessie said with a series of rapid nods as she turned back around. She gave a vague wave and fumbled with the keys before opening the door. She swung it open and threw her bag down in the entryway.
"Y/N!" She called as she began to search the house.
“In here!”
Jessie spun around and jogged towards your voice. She rounded a corner to see you sitting on the couch, apparently in a fresh set of shorts, a hand on your stomach.
A rush of relief and adoration went through her just upon seeing you. She felt a calm rush over her despite everything. Now she was where she was supposed to be. No matter what happened, you were together and would navigate it all with one another.
She walked over and dropped to her knees in front of you. She hugged your middle as far as her arms would let her and peppered your face with kisses. She jostled as you chuckled and ran your fingers through her hair.
“Hi baby,” you greeted.
“Hi,” she said gently, eyes bright and almost teary as she pulled back to look up at you and take you in. She gave a slow shake of her head. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I-”
“Jessie. It’s okay. If I was worried or needed you to rush I would’ve called. We are perfectly okay,” you assured her, holding her gaze. “You know we could be going through this for a long time before something really happens.”
Jessie nodded reluctantly. It was true, but still.
“I just wanted to be here for you through all of it,” she went on before holding up her hands, palms out. “But, let’s move on.” You gave her a grateful look. “I’m here. And I’m not leaving your side. I’m here to do anything and everything you need while you do this incredible work to bring our baby into the world,” she said as she sat back enough to tenderly caress your taut stomach.
Just like their midwife and classes said, early labour was long and tedious. Movies and shows made it seem so sudden and fast, but in reality, at least for you, it was hours and hours of ever increasing pain.
You’d barely slept all night and she knew you were exhausted already, but things were poised to only escalate further; a cycle that would continue to close in and worsen.
As your contractions increased, she felt desperate to help, but was entirely powerless. It broke her heart to see you in so much pain, knowing it was her fault in a way and she couldn’t share the burden at all.
“Ooo,” you breathed steadily and audibly, your hands on your back and eyes closed as you walked in a slow circle in the living room, trying to walk through the pain and discomfort. Jessie trailed behind you, eyes trained on you, watching vigilantly for an opportunity to help or support.
Your steps stilled and your face screwed up in pain. You doubled over slightly, bracing your hands on your thighs and Jessie had her arm around you in a second, supporting your weight to hold you up.
“Mm,” you ground out, eyes still tightly shut and body tense as you rode out a wave of pain.
Jessie rubbed your lower back in an effort to provide some reprieve, however small. “Try not to forget to breathe,” she coached gently, not wanting to dictate things for you or discredit your efforts, but also still try to keep the coping strategies as forefront as possible to hopefully help you.
“Yes, dear,” you said tightly, your irritation not entirely veiled, as you let your head fall back. You breathed despite your complaint and she saw its effects as your body relaxed subtly.
When you’d finally rode out the contraction you went over and sat down on the yoga ball in the room with a heavy sigh and a small groan. Jessie came up behind you immediately and began massaging your back once more, earning a soft moan of appreciation as you rolled your hips back and forth.
“Oh my gosh,” you said. “She’s so low in my pelvis. It’s so much pressure.”
“That contraction was only five minutes apart. I’m going to call Theresa,” she told you as you distractedly nodded. She retrieved her phone and stood to walk a few feet away.
"Please don't go far," you beseeched as you peered over your shoulder at her retreating form. "I need you here."
Jessie turned around right away and returned to your side, placed her hand between your shoulders and began massaging your sore muscles there. "I'm right here, baby," she assured you and you immediately brought a hand up to her wrist, clinging to her and not letting go.
Jessie hung up a couple of minutes later and tucked the phone away in her pocket.
"She's on her way," she told you and you merely nodded again, eyes now trained on the ceiling in focus. "I'll go get you some more water," she went on and cracked a smile for you. "I'll be a minute tops. And I'll make sure it has lots of ice."
When she returned, you took the cup from her gratefully and Jessie knelt in front of you. Your arms came up around her shoulders right away and you leaned heavily on her, moaning and resting your head against hers. Her chest filled with warmth and she kissed your cheek.
You began to wince, another contraction coming on, your arms tightening around her. Jessie leaned up into you to better support your weight.
"Distract me," you told her, voice faintly strained. "Tell me something."
"Um, okay," she said as reached up around you to rub your back as best she could. She wracked her brain, annoyed that it was suddenly blank. Eventually she lit up as a thought popped up.
"Okay. Did you know that mangrove forests are incredibly effective at storing carbon? Up to four times more per hectare than tropical rainforests?" She asked.
You chuckled softly despite your discomfort. "You are such a nerd. I love you." Whatever moment of relief you had quickly dissipated and she felt your face fill with tension once more against her own. "Okay, that kind of worked. Tell me something else."
"Hmm. Alright. Um, in university Teagan and I were in her dorm and - I don't know how it started - but we were competing to see who could balance longer on a basketball. She couldn't even fully stand up, so I, of course, was like, 'Yeah, I can absolutely do that' - I stood up, but went flying a moment later, like feet flying right out under me, the ball shot across the room and and busted this floor lamp and, I just ricocheted off the nearby bed, arms flailing and hitting the floor. So I won - but at what cost," she finished with a short laugh.
"Oh my god," you laughed, before clutching the underside of your stomach with a heightened wince. "Oh shit - that hurts. Okay, nothing funny," you said, though a smile still lingered despite the pain.
"Oh shit," Jessie said with an apologetic smile as she caressed your stomach and kissed your head once more. Her smile shifted into a smirk. "Well, if you didn't want anything funny, you shouldn't have gotten engaged to such a jokester."
You laughed again, wincing once more and nudging her. "Oh yeah, you're a regular comic."
"Um, okay. How about this? Remember how your team invited me to that sustainability event - long before our first date. And I came and we had some drinks and we started talking about [y/favourite show]?"
"Mhmm." You nodded against her.
"And remember how I said I loved that show?"
You nodded once more, still clinging to her.
"I kind of lied," Jessie admitted. She felt your grip on her change and she went on quickly. "I loved it! But I'd just overheard you gushing about it with your coworker on that call we all had a week before, so I binged it and read up on it before the event so I'd be able to talk to you about it. I was only like a season and half in by the event though - so I just read all the spoilers so we could talk at length about it. I was just so nervous and I wanted to make sure I could keep our conversation going and I'd have something interesting that you wanted to talk about!"
By the time Jessie finished your contraction had waned and you leaned back to give her a scrutinizing look that dissolved into a laugh.
"You're ridiculous. I enjoyed talking with you about so many things. Still do. Like when you talk about freakin mangroves." You smirked. "Well, since we're confessing. I did an awful lot of Googling about soccer after I met you the first time. Didn't want you to think I was completely clueless."
Jessie beamed, but it transformed into a mischievous grin a moment later. She shrugged her shoulder teasingly. "I could kinda tell."
"Hey!" You complained as you swatted playfully at her. "I'm in labour," you declared dramatically. "I'm having your baby! You're supposed to be nice to me right now."
Jessie laughed and kissed you. "You know I'd do absolutely anything for you."
------------------------
The midwife arrived and your labour continued. More hours wore on and there were moments where exhaustion threatened Jessie as well, especially coming right off of a game last night, but she pushed it aside to focus on and tend to you. Theresa did force her to take a few breaks here and there, but as far as Jessie was concerned, you didn't really have the choice to take breaks, so neither would she.
"Oh fuck," you breathed as another contraction hit you. The last one had only ended a few short minutes ago and you'd barely had a chance to recover before another washed over you.
You had your hands clasped around the back of Jessie's neck, both of you standing as she supported you while you hung down off of her. You grimaced in pain and your body trembled despite her holding you up. Sweat beaded across your forehead and you were pale.
She held you steady as you rocked, suspended from her shoulders, trying to find any ounce of relief as you rode out the wave.
"I need to lay down," you said in a shuddering voice as the contraction ended. You were weak, struggling to stand up in her arms now and leaned heavily on her as she ushered you towards the bed. She set you gently down on the edge and grabbed a towel to dab at the sweat on your brow.
She and the midwife got you settled onto the bed, a wall of pillows behind you to help you sit up. Your chest heaved up and down as you struggled.
"There's so much pressure," you winced. "Mmh. I feel like I need to push."
"Let's check your progress," Theresa said. Your legs were spread already, the only remotely comfortable position for you right now. "9 centimeters still," she said as she drew back a gloved hand and looked to you both. "Your contractions are getting closer and closer though. You'll be able to push soon."
You groaned heavily, nearly sobbing as your head rest listless against the pillows behind you. "Jessie," you cried her name feebly and she climbed up next to you on the bed in a flash, grasping your hand and holding it tightly.
"I'm too hot," you panted, hand clutching hers and the other clutching the sheets repeatedly in visible discomfort.
"Okay, baby," Jessie said with a series of dutiful nods and went to go grab you a cold, wet cloth, but you tightened your grip on her urgently.
"No, please don't go. Don't leave me," you whined and not even able to open your eyes as you fought through the relentless pain.
"I'm right here, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I'm with you," Jessie assured you without hesitation. A strange feeling came over her at seeing you, this woman who was so stubborn and independent, brought to this point where you were unabashedly clingy and desperate. It made sense and she was happy to cater to you, but it spoke to the level of distress you were in.
She looked to Theresa and the woman waved her off immediately, silently assuring her to stay and leave the task to her.
A clipped cry fell from your lips as a new contraction hit you. You tensed up and all Jessie could do was knead your tired muscles and do her best to serve as an anchor for you in this flurry of physical agony.
Your breathing was rapid and shallow and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. You writhed in place and Jessie could see how you ground your teeth together. She reached up with her free hand to slowly, but firmly rub the center of your chest, hoping to subtly steady your breathing.
It was torture for her to see you like this. Grimacing in increasing pain for hours on end and knowing it was going to get worse before it would get better.
Your whole relationship, her only goal was to make your life easier, softer, more comfortable. And here you were in the greatest pain of your life and it was all her fault. She felt horrible.
"Oh fuck," you eventually whimpered as the contraction seemingly faded. Theresa returned with the cold compress and Jessie took it as she moved in closer to you and pressed it to your forehead. You turned into her and whimpered further.
"You're doing so good, baby," she said as she kissed the top of your head and held a cup of ice chips up to your mouth. You chewed a couple before pushing her hand away.
"Remember how I said I can’t wait until she’s here? I changed my mind.”
Jessie spied the faintest hint of a smirk on your lips. She kissed your head again, amazed that you could find the capacity for some kind of humour during such a time.
You pushed yourself up on the bed further and grimaced again. "Oh fuck." You doubled over in pain once more, clutching your rounded stomach. "I really feel like I need to push."
"You can't just yet, sweetie," Theresa said gently.
You groaned and you tugged on Jessie's arm to pull yourself forward. She watched the movements you were telegraphing and helped you onto your hands and knees. You immediately leaned your head down onto your folded arms, your legs spread wide, belly pressing into the bed as you moaned into the contraction.
Jessie rubbed your lower back and leaned forward to kiss your shoulder. You whimpered in response as you continued to labour on all fours.
You rocked subtly back and forth for several more waves of contractions until you let out a low, muffled yell.
"Jess. Jess - I can feel her. She's moving down," you panted.
She looked to Theresa in concern and the midwife checked your progress once more.
"Okay, sweetie. It's time - you're at 10 cm. When you feel the urge, you can go ahead and push."
You let out a small whimper and straightened your arms as you breathed heavily, preparing yourself. Jessie kissed the side of your head, lips lingering.
"You've got this, my love. You're amazing. You're so strong. I'm right here with you," Jessie said, ignoring the way her own pulse quickened at the prospect of what was to come.
You panted, eyes closed and still in such pain as you awaited the opportunity to push. She leaned forward slightly to keep watch of your face as she continued to knead your back and hips. Only a few seconds passed before your features screwed up and you tensed up, starting to push.
Jessie's nerves were beginning to fray as she realized what was happening.
You moaned as you bore down. Jessie shifted her attention to your entrance, though knowing it would be too early for any signs of your daughter appearing.
"Oh fuck," you cursed. You panted and your arms began to tremble. "S-she's coming Jess. Oh my God."
Jessie found herself smiling for some reason. She looked back up to you, "You're making it happen. You're incredible."
You continued to push until the contraction waned and your body grew limp, Jessie reaching out to help support you.
"That was great, Y/N. Just like that again next time, okay? You've got this. And if you need to change positions you tell us - we're here," Theresa said and you nodded faintly.
The next contraction came and you bore down once more. When it ended, you shook your head. "I need to sit back," you said, palming around looking for Jessie's hand. She reached out quickly to grasp your hand and began guiding you back. "I want you behind me." Jessie nodded and sat back against the pillows and nestled you in between her legs and you leaned back against her chest.
"This okay?" She asked as she pulled you tighter against her. You nodded rapidly, turning your head against her shoulder and burrowing against her as you pulled her arm across your chest and gripped her forearm with one hand, the other hand gripping her thigh.
Another groan fell from your lips as you began to push once more, your fingers digging into Jessie's arm and leg. Jessie sat up with you to help you push.
"You're doing so good," she whispered over your grunts as she gently thumbed your shoulder.
When the contraction ended you melted into Jessie's embrace and she continued to gently caress you. She steadied her breathing as she encouraged you to try to do the same and was pleased when your chest went from rapidly rising and falling to something calmer.
"Oh, Jess. She feels so big. Oh my God," you whimpered as you burrowed your face into her further. Jessie kissed the side of your head and Theresa spoke up.
"You're having a big baby, Y/N. It's going to be a lot of work, but you are prepared, you're doing amazing, and Jessie is here with you to help you every step of the way. You're making progress."
Jessie watched as your face fell and your rolled your head against her shoulder.
"Mmh, how did someone so small put such a big baby in me?" You complained. Jessie could do nothing other than apologize, but to her surprise you managed a feeble chuckle. "She's healthy. She has to be healthy." Your face fell again and Jessie saw emotions taking over.
"She's healthy, babe. You've done an amazing job of growing and caring for her. That's all you," Jessie told you. She was going to assure you further when your hand came up behind her head and you curled inward to start pushing again, pulling her with you as you grimaced and tried to move your baby down.
This time, your groan evolved into a strained yell.
"Incredible, Y/N. She's right there, I can start to see her. You are doing so great, momma," Theresa said.
Your eyes opened and you looked back at Jessie in wonder as soon as the contraction ended.
"Do you want me to still...," Jessie trailed off, uncertainty taking her as she tried to anticipate what you wanted. You'd talked during birthing classes about her being the one to deliver your baby - with the help of Theresa, of course - but if you needed her to hold you, that's exactly what she'd do.
"Yes, yes," you answered quickly as you shifted slightly, wordlessly indicating for her to move. Jessie carefully moved out from behind you, kissing your shoulder as she went and hurriedly propping up the pillows behind you to better support you. Theresa moved aside slightly, giving Jessie an affirming nod as she positioned herself between your spread legs.
She looked at your entrance, lips still closed and the head not yet visible between pushes.
"Here, make sure she's lubricated," Theresa said as she handed the oil over to Jessie. She took it silently and began to massage your lips and perineum with the oil to help your baby move down and reduce the risk of you tearing.
She was continuing to massage you until you sat forward once more and began pushing. Jessie held your leg and you reached forward gripping her shoulder and leaning on her as you grunted.
Her eyes grew wide as suddenly a small teardrop began to form at your entrance and the first glimpses of your baby together began to appear. A rush of elation and trepidation ran through her.
"S-she has hair," Jessie told you excitedly as she looked up at you. Despite your concentration and effort, you opened your eyes to look at her and a feeble smile crossed your face before you grimaced once more and continued pushing.
"Oh my God. Y/N - you're doing it - you're moving her down. I can see more of her. You're doing so amazing," Jessie praised, tears suddenly pricking at her eyes.
"Oh God," you panted, fingers digging painfully into Jessie's shoulder. "Oh fuck, it hurts, Jess. Oh my God," you said as your lips began to slowly bulge and stretch around the burgeoning head. Jessie gently braced your entrance in support at the instruction of Theresa.
"I know, baby, but you're doing so good," Jessie coached you and you fell back, collapsing against the pillows again during a brief reprieve from the rolling onslaught of contractions. She looked down between your legs to see the baby's head had retracted completely within your tunnel again.
"Jessie," you whimpered in exhaustion and frustration.
"I know, love," she said gently as she kissed your knee and then quickly dabbed your forehead with another cold compress again.
Almost as soon as the last contraction ended, a new one started and you leaned against Jessie's shoulder again as you bore down. She watched as the head reappeared, much quicker this time and soon stretching you wider and anew. She applied more oil to your lips and supported them as they pulled tightly around the head as it crowned.
"Oh it's burns!" You cried as your lips were stretched taut around the large head of your baby.
"You're so close, Y/N," Jessie tried to sooth you. "I can see so much of her."
This time, the head didn't retract as your contraction faded. The progress remained, but that also meant that the head was lodged at your entrance, stuck in a crown and stretching you unbelievably wide. Jessie was absolutely in awe of what your body was doing and achieving right now.
During birth class, many of the partners were squeamish and tentative, but Jessie was curious and attentive. She wanted to know what to expect so she could support you as unwaveringly as possible. She wanted to be ready for this moment so she could be present and be there for you in any way you needed.
And here you were, the woman she loved most in the world, the one she wanted to spend the rest of her days with. The moment was here - you were finally delivering your baby here in your bed, the same one she was conceived in all those months ago.
Jessie massaged your thighs as you groaned in pain, legs quivering.
"I-I can't," you panted as you gave a weak shake of your head.
"You can. You're doing so incredible. You are so, so strong. I know it's hard, but you are almost there, I promise," Jessie told you as she leaned up to give you a kiss on the forehead. Your hand shot up to cup the back of her neck and hold her there. She kissed you again. "I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you for bringing our baby into the world. You are the most incredible woman. I love you so, so much."
You grunted, leaning forward and curling into yourself in another push.
To Jessie's shock and amazement, she saw your lips stretching impossibly further, the skin now white and bloodless from the tension.
"It hurts so much," you cried helplessly. "It's burning so bad."
The stretching continued until you released a scream and the head popped out with a rush of fluid. You gasped, body jolting at the momentary reprieve.
"Oh my gosh," Jessie nearly cried, hand out supporting the head of her baby and seeing her for the first time. She reached out and grabbed your hand to bring it down to the head as well. You began whimpering, tears forming in your eyes as you felt her and looked at Jessie. "She's almost here."
"One or two more good pushes and your baby will be here," Theresa said with a smile.
When it was time, Jessie saw a new level of focus cross your face and you began to push. She held her hands out, guiding her baby as a slow yell filtered up your throat as the shoulders began to stretch your entrance out.
"You're almost there," she encouraged, ignoring the way your fingers dug painfully into her shoulder.
The shoulders appeared and with a final push, Jessie caught your baby in her hands, a scream coming from you and a gasp from her.
Suddenly, a new cry filled the room. Jessie's eyes were absolutely transfixed on this small, brand new being, wriggling and crying in her hands.
"Oh my God," she breathed as she stared at her daughter. She was here. Finally here. Something that started off as a wish so many months ago was now entirely real. A permanent, physical manifestation of the love you and her had for one another; a perfect mix of herself and you. 10 fingers, 10 toes, a cute little face and a head of dark wispy hair.
"She's here, baby," she said in awe, belatedly aware of the tears streaming down her face as she very gingerly lifted your daughter and oh so carefully laid her on your chest.
You sobbed as you took her and Jessie cuddled in with you both, eyes still not leaving your little girl.
"Oh my God, she's beautiful," you said as you gently caressed her cheek as her strong cries filled the room. "Riley Fleming - we love you so much."
Jessie felt like her heart could burst as she took in every little detail about your daughter. She gave the easiest smile of her life.
"She's absolutely perfect."
A/N: This is not the conclusion of the series; however we are very close. I have two more chapters for you.
#jessie fleming#jessie fleming x reader#woso x reader#woso imagine#canwnt x reader#wlw fiction#birth fiction
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Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.
Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post
WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox
A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
You’re doing a terrible job at paying attention to where you’re going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and you’re hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule.
It’s clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it won’t. It doesn’t, and you’re not letting the cockiest man you know believe he’s won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that you’d succumbed to Jake’s charms… you’d risk losing the respect you’ve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. You’re not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake won’t stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesn’t get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like he’s won you like a prize. You’re standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.
Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and they’re probably having a better time than you are.
Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. It’s like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.
Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. You’re sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. You’d save that horse.
Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isn’t broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but it’s not the man you’d wanted to see.
“Hey.” Jake’s already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks you’ll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you don’t want to cause a scene.
“What, Hangman?”
“I’m not trying to control you.” He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, “I just don’t think you’re meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldn’t have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just… I do it because-”
He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.
“Because you’re used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if you’re not trying to control me, you’re used to having that control. It’s familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you don’t know you’re doing it. But I’m not like that. You can’t keep me waiting on you.”
The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, “That ain’t it at all. But forget it. Don’t worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doin’ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. I’ll shut up about Daniel. Truce?”
You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.
“Truce.”
He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, “So, Dudley showed up yet?”
“He’s coming for lunch.” You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, “What about Melon girl, they weren’t ripe enough for you?”
“She wasn’t my type.” He starts, and there’s a heavy silence before he continues, “I don’t like a woman who thinks it’s fun to get between a couple.”
The sideways glance you send Hangman, the ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk, is lethal.
“Anyways.” He continues, tone more casual now, ��Fancy a swim, darlin’?”
“I’ll read instead,” You offer, “But you have fun, Hangman.”
“Party Pooper,” He accuses, standing from the lounge chair he’s occupying and stretching briefly, “You’re an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.”
“I’m about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?”
“Nope,” He grins, “You volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?”
“Absolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.” You nod at your tote bag, “Don’t use it all, though.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, “So, what’s going on in that book, they boning yet?”
“Mhm.” You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, “Real sexy stuff.”
“I’ve got somethin’ sexier for you.”
“It’s a porn book, Hangman,” You clarify, in case he’s forgotten, “I’m trying to read porn. Leave me alone.”
“There’s porn right here!” He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you can’t lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.
“This porn’s better,” You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, “This guy’s got a cowboy hat on.”
“I’ve got a million and one cowboy hats,” Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, “Is that really all it takes, darlin’? ‘Cause I can slap one on in seconds, if that’s what you’re after. ‘Even brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.”
“Mm, maybe,” You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesn’t notice the shifting of your feet until it’s too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.
There’s not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but it’s worth it.
“But I like it better when the hat’s on a real gentleman!” You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. He’s been thoroughly underwater trained, so he’d been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and there’s no real harm done besides the initial splash.
“You dirty rotten minx,” He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, “You lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?”
“I can’t believe you fell for it!” You’re still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, “That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldn’t have gotten so close!”
He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, “I thought you were finally givin’ in.”
“It’d take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.” You laugh, turning back to your book, “Like, a full personality transplant.”
Jake hears Danica’s words repeated back to him in his head, ‘Show, don’t tell’.
“Noted. I’ll look into one’uh those,” He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, “Hey, when you’re done with that chapter, you should join me.”
“No.”
“Alright.”
You glance away from the book’s pages at Hangman’s unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.
Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, “Will you rub some sunscreen on my back?”
You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe that’s part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he can’t reach. You’d want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.
“Fine. But you owe me.”
“Mhm.” He nods, passing you the sunscreen, “I’ll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.”
You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.
You’re no masseuse, but apparently you’re rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jake’s skin in goopy sun lotion.
“Damn, you’re good.” Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, “Do that again?”
“I’m putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.”
“Oh, come on, just a little more?” He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.
You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment.
“There, Hangman.” You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, “You’re all oiled up.”
“Aren’t you glad you were the one to get to do it?” Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.
“Oh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,” Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, “But I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlin’.”
You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but he’s turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.
Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- ‘abdomen’ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.
Fortunately, you don’t need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, “Y/N, look!”
You’re met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, “I’m gonna dive- watch me.”
“I’m watching.” You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, “This feels like babysitting, Hangman.”
He dives instead of quipping back, and it’s an impressive one, not that you’ll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.
“Was it good?” He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.
“Yes,” You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, “You did so good, honey.”
“Shut up,” He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you can’t be mad at him after all the teasing you’ve been inflicting upon him.
“I’ve been workin’ on my diving,” He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, “My nieces back home are learnin’ to swim so I’ve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.”
His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that you’ll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.
There’s not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and it’s large to boot, so there’s plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.
Okay, you won’t join Jake in the pool, but you’ll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.
Jake doesn’t notice that you’ve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.
You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.
“I thought you’d finally found what’s-his-name,” Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, “Mind if I join you, Y/N?”
“Only if you’re- careful!” You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, “Hangman, if this book gets wet, you’re replacing it for me.”
“Alright, alright! I’ll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if I’m buyin’ you porn books, doesn’t that make me somethin’ like a sugar daddy?”
“You’re not getting any sugar,” You shrug, “But sure.”
“Just call me daddy, Y/N.” He grins, “That’s all the sugar I need.”
You hide behind your book so that he can’t see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.
“This is nice.” He muses, eyes closed, “Real relaxing.”
“It’s less relaxing when someone’s talking the whole time,” You peek across the side of your book, “Shut up, maybe?”
Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, “Alright, alright your majesty. I’ll stay silent.”
You don’t verbally thank him, but you don’t make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.
You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time it’s the two people you’d been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, who’s picked his head up from where you thought he’d fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. It’s just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be.
You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because you’re two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jake’s strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.
It’s cold, colder even because you’d been soaking in the hot tub. You’re surprised, but you suppose you can’t even really be mad at him considering it’s just payback for what he’d done to you.
You’ve barely righted yourself in the water before there’s another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge there’s hands reaching for your waist, Daniel’s as you realize he’d jumped in to help you.
“You-!” You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel who’s trying to ensure you’re alright, and Jake who’s snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.
“You asshole.” Daniel finishes for you, “She could have drowned!”
“I know how to swim,” You brace a hand on Daniel’s chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, “It’s fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.”
“Relax, Prince Charming. It’s just a bit of payback. And look,” Jake waves your novel in front of you, “Dry as a bone.”
“Well I am- uh, not.” You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, “So, I guess I will go swimming.”
“Great. You can swim with us.” Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.
“Yeah, us.” Jake agrees, taking Danica’s towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.
Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that you’re splashed by the wave he creates.
“You are an asshole,” You laugh, breaking away from Daniel’s grip to shove at Jake’s shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time you’ve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you don’t fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.
“Hey- hey!” Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?”
“I’m down,” Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, “Y/N, you okay on his shoulders?”
Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.
“Shit, sorry Hangman.” You let go of his hair, hoping you hadn’t yanked too hard. He’s forgiven, for now, so you won’t resort to childish things like hair-pulling.
“That’s okay, darlin’.” He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, “I like it when you tug on my hair.”
You have to overlook Jake’s suggestive comment as Danica’s already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and they’re both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.
You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. You’re more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though you’re confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jake’s shoulders.
The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.
“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.
“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”
“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.
“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.
“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.
“Done. I double knotted it.” He hums, and it’s such a sincere tone, one that’s completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.
His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing you’d consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Rooster’s), and there’s a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasn’t been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.
Miles different than you’ve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and they’d be eclipsing his irises if those weren’t so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out.
Jake has never been gentle before.
“You alright?” He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that you’d been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.
“Let’s go again,” You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, “Good hit, Danica. But watch out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“Bring it,” She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jake’s face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that you’re not privy to.
Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Daniel’s shoulders, but enough to show her that you’re not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Daniel’s shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jake’s. You’re thankful for that, for the steady mount you’ve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.
Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Daniel’s glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and he’s not going to let Mr. Mailman win.
This time, Jake suspects you’ve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Daniel’s dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jake’s chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.
“Nice one,” He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then you’re craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.
“Back up,” You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, “Get them to chase us and we’ll use the momentum against them.”
“Darlin’,” Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, “You’re my kinda woman. Always looking to win.”
“Just do it, Hangman,” You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.
Jake stands in place where he’d been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that you’re not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: he’s not as tall as Jake.
He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partner’s head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Daniel’s beard becomes waterlogged.
“That’s not fair!” Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Daniel’s sopping wet hair, “Poor guy, we’ll get you stilts for the next round.”
Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel.
You don’t have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own.
“Chicken Champions,” He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, “I’d offer to go again, but that’d just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?”
“I brought a book,” Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, “If you wanna read, Y/N, I’ll do it with you.”
“Perfect.” Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, “I’ll be careful not to splash you guys.”
“I won’t.” Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, “No point in reading one of them smutty porn books if you’re not soaking wet.”
“Splash me and I’ll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,” You promise, “You’ll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.”
“Nah, that’s not my style,” Jake’s voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You don’t know why until he continues, taking his own bait, “I’ll leave that to Daniel.”
You blame Jake’s comment for why Daniel’s dive nearly turns into a belly flop. It’s instantaneous, really, Daniel’s changing of posture as he register’s Jake’s biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male lead’s face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven.
Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.
“Six,” He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, “‘Could’ve clinched a seven if you hadn’t splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.”
He doesn’t give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jake’s bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that you’ll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where he’d landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.
He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.
“Ten!” Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jake’s lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.
You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main character’s beard returns.
“Four.” You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, “For playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.”
Hangman’s grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, “Dirty’s the best way to play, darlin’.”
Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that you’ve sent many-a-girlfriend before. It’s the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams ‘We’re talking about this later’, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.
“Leave us alone,” You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows he’s only a bystander, “We want to read.”
“Let’s leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.” Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, “We can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?”
“You swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,” You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, “I remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.”
“Wouldn’t’ve gone so slow if I wasn’t hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,” Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale, and you realize you’ve only fluffed his ego more, “So he was unconscious. Well I couldn’t just leave him there, ‘poor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,” He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, “It was worth it to send him back home to his mama.”
You taste a hint of blood where you’ve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.
You’re trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where he’s engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose it’s not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that you’re losing. Jake’s showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jake’s ego have failed.
You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. You’re tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip you’ve cemented onto them while you mediate Jake’s ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it.
Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. It’s why you’re so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.
You can’t tell if Danica’s that fool yet, because she’s turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesn’t ogle him while he’s swimming. It would be easy to- he’s all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you don’t feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.
You’re not sure whether it’s a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, there’s not much room for recreation anymore.
“Are you done?” You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.
“I think I’m done.” She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, “Should we run away before the men notice we’re leaving?”
“Excellent plan,” You laugh, but you can practically feel Jake’s eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, “We should go get some pizza. They’re making more now that it’s a little busier out here.”
“You shouldn’t stare like that.” Daniel’s irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jake’s and entirely free of Jake’s rugged charm, makes Jake’s lips yearn to curl into a sneer.
Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, “Like what?”
“Like she’s a piece of meat, or something.” Daniel’s arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.
“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, “You frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, you’ve got no room to be talking to me about class.”
“She wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.” Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, “That’s different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like you’d flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.”
“Flipping skirts,” Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, “Daniel, I’m not that old fashioned! Please, she’s in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you don’t seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, I’m sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried I’m looking at Danica’s ass?”
“You’re not looking at Danica’s ass.” Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, “Because you’re not interested in Danica. You’re interested in Y/N and you can’t have her. She’s not yours.”
“She’s not yours, either.” Jake spits, and there’s a moment of silence where both men’s chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that he’s admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesn’t fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jake’s, in the way you’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when you’d stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.
You’d moaned his name- his name, not Daniel’s.
Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.
“Oh!” The woman shrieks, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s fine.” He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, “Don’t worry about it.”
Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- you’re not.
“So,” Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, “Tell me why he’s acting like this.”
“He always acts like this.” You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, “No, really! He’s just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as he’d beat his brothers he didn’t care. He always has to win, and right now, he’s competing for us.”
“No, he’s competing for you.” Danica corrects you, “Is he winning?”
“Hell no. He’s- he’s not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he ‘got me’, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But that’s exactly why I can’t give in- I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldn’t see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.”
“I get that.” She nods, “But how do you know he’s just gonna dump you?”
“I’ve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,” You scoff, “That’s what he does. He doesn’t do love, he’s the kind of guy who’s only ever interested in something quick and dirty.”
“Everyone does love.” Danica frowns, “Some people just start later in life than others. And I think he’s starting now. With you.”
“Love,” You laugh, and sure, it’s dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you don’t care, “A man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.”
She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?”
You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, “He constantly tries one-upping me- again, he can’t lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like we’re on the playground or something, and it’s non-stop. It’s not like he’s sweet most of the time and then there’s a few bouts of light teasing, it’s- it’s constant, and I can’t ever let my guard down, or I’ll lose.”
“So you’re fighting to win, too.” Her eyes narrow slightly, “Why?”
“Because. I can't be second-best, and I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. I’m not doing that.” You repeat.
“Oh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesn’t have to know.”
“They will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.”
“He won’t- not if he’s in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.”
“He’s not in love with me-!”
“Four slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?” A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter you’re both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.
You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, “Uh, three cheese.”
“Sorry.” He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, “Three cheese.”
“Thank you.” You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know she’s hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply can’t. She doesn’t know Jake, she hasn’t spent the last decade with him as he’s blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesn’t understand what it would be like- even if he wasn’t looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, you’d never be able to escape that reputation.
You feel like you’re going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin blurb#jake seresin oneshot#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin fic#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman imagine#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#hangman fluff#hangman blurb#hangman oneshot#hangman drabble#jake seresin drabble#jake seresin x reader fanfiction#hangman fanfic#hangman fic#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin imagine#hangman x reader fanfiction#jake hangman seresin fanfic#glen powell x reader
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Okay so some good news:
I am once again floored by the generosity of this community and grateful for every single one of you. We've raised $4,132 since last night.
Not Good news:
After all the subsidies, refunds, discounts and the companies competing for this job, it's still going to cost me AT LEAST $15,000 to fix this.
Without going into too many details, the fuckup is so severe that I need to hire a lawyer, which I also do not have money for.
C'est la vie, but I am so, so grateful I have this community to fall back on. Thank you for everything you have done so far, and thank you for helping me.
My Furnace Broke :(
Hi kids, it's your favorite storytelling chicken, and my Furnace has decided to die. It also decided to take the A/C unit out with it.
This is both very expensive to fix, and also kind of urgent: the more observant of you may have noticed that it is November, and getting onto winter here in the Rockies.
Look at this little man, huddling on my feet for warmth.
I have *some* emergency funds, but not enough to cover even a temporary fix, and that's also the fund that vet, medical, and car repair bills come out of, all of which I've had too much of this year.
I'm currently pitting four HVAC companies against each other to get the best offer possible, and getting the paperwork done for state subsidies, refunds and other discounts, but I still need your help.
Thank you all, everything you can do helps.
#signal boost#furnace fundraiser#this is. really disenheartening and stressful to deal with.#weather is nice today but we may have to stay with my in-laws over Thanksgiving#which is. not ideal.
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playing it cool / aaron hotchner
[credits to the owners of these photos!!]
word count: 1.9k
pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader
genre: fluff!!!!!!
cw: sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, so much of aaron’s thoughts because we know that man thinks soo much more than he speaks!!
a/n: hiiii this is my third post so far and tbh i was so nervous to post the first two as that was my first time ever posting any of my writings anywhere!! but i’ve been getting so much more love on those than expected and i just really wanted to say thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs <33 i was honestly only expecting less than 10 notes as a newbie and reaching up to 200 is so so so wonderful. and especially for the love of hotch i– ugh!!!!! i already love u all
The team had worked a straight 5 weeks worth of cases prior, which had warranted Strauss to grant them all a mandatory 3-day rest. This simply meant that for 3 whole days there are no cases, no deadlines, and no new case files. They could come to the office at whatever time they’d like as long as they finished some reports at the end of the day.
Aaron being Hotch the boss man still aimed to arrive at the office at a reasonable time– 7:30am. To be fair, this is an hour and a half later than when he usually arrives at the office. And in his mind, the earlier he arrives, the more he can get done, and the more he gets done, the earlier he can come home.
This is the only reason why he is up at 6:00am on a supposed rest day. He did expect that he’d struggle a bit more to drag himself out of bed, knowing you’d be keeping him hostage with limbs that wrap around him in ways he can’t begin to understand, but to his surprise, you weren’t there.
Dragging his feet across the carpeted floor, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips and white shirt fitting him oh-so-snugly, he tries to find you. He’s rubbing the sleep of his eyes as he peeks his head into your shared bathroom. No sign of you.
He’s covering his mouth as he yawns when he quietly opens the door to Jack’s bedroom–still no sign of you. Remembering his son has been nursing a stomach bug since yesterday, he opened the door further to check on him. No fever. No chills. No sign of discomfort.
When he’s sure Jack’s okay, he turns around to go back to find where you went. He even checked the backyard as he passed by a window to see if you’re at your favorite swing reading, that perhaps you just woke up early and wanted to feel the morning sun because you claimed it lightens you.
He smiles a little to himself as he treads downstairs, finally hearing your soft murmurs as you spoke with someone presumably over the phone. As he neared the kitchen he realized that the person on the line was your colleague and friend Tilly, and that she was on speaker phone making it easy to listen in.
He slows down his steps as he nears the landing and pauses when he gets behind a wall near the kitchen. He doesn’t know what came over him. He doesn’t usually sneak around to eavesdrop, nor did he ever feel the need to especially when it came to you. You tell him everything, prompted and unprompted.
But perhaps it was the haze of the morning or the curiosity of what could possibly get you out of bed this early when you’re usually the one snoozing away as he’s getting ready for work– he stayed quiet behind that wall and made it his mission to understand the conversation.
He clears his mind and strains his ear, going as far as making his breaths slow and far apart.
He hears Tilly giggling, “Don’t get me wrong, Adam from Finance is really cute but.. isn’t he just a little too serious? He’s always got that frown going on.”
You sigh a little loudly, obvious that it’s a sigh to humor and not of exasperation, “Tilly, you know I love you, but every day you complain about being single. And every other day there’s a decent guy who you always always find that one flaw in that just crosses them off for you forever.” Tilly lets out a sound that’s a mixture of a laugh and a gasp.
“That is so not tr–” “Oh, Hugh’s just too clean. And Frederick’s too hard, it’s like- scary. Yes, veiny hands are hot but there’s veiny and too veiny, and Jason was just a double too veiny.”
Aaron momentarily pauses his listening and looks down at his hands, suddenly conscious where he fit in that category. Factoring in his age, his work, and the action he gets from the field– these all show. He tried thinking of a time you could’ve shown any dislike or disgust towards his hands but all he could think of was that one night when he cupped your face and you leaned towards it more, turning slightly to take his thumb into your mou–
He’s shaken out of his thoughts when he hears Tilly asking about you leaving, “What time are you getting to the office by the way? I just don’t want to get there without you. Adam might ask about that second date and I just need you as my bluff, my beautiful girl.” He makes a mental note to message Jessica before you both get ready for work.
“Riiiight. Remind me how many guys have I scared off for you now? And how many times have I helped you scare them off? Besides, I can’t go today and I’ve already told Bobby I’m on leave.”
In a slight surprise and panic Tilly whines, “What?! Why? You’re such a traitor. You know damn well I get so bored without you.” Aaron didn’t even know you were planning on staying home. You hadn’t mentioned anything about it last night which made him even more curious what made you decide.
He hears your soft laugh, “Don’t be so dramatic. You’ll manage a day without me. I mean you have to– my son caught a stomach bug yesterday so I just want to make sure he’ll recover completely.”
Aaron can hear Tilly responding, something about soup and warm baths, but his heart has just stopped so he’s not really processing any new words at the moment.
My son. My son. My son. My son caught a stomach bug.
He feels lightheaded. His heart kickstarts again, his pulse is ringing in his ear. He can feel his chest pounding to his heart’s beat. The words that rolled off your lips so effortlessly, so mindlessly, echoes in his head.
Jack may be young but he is smart. So so smart beyond his years. And he has grown to understand what had happened to his mom Haley, but not once has he– and even you allowed Jack to forget who Haley is and how much she loves him.
Images of you joining in their traditions of honoring and remembering Haley plays in his head in flashes. You helping Jack arrange a bouquet for Haley’s death anniversary. You helping Jack make a card for her birthday. You mixing the paint to get the right shades as Jack paints a portrait of Haley for his Mothers’ Day homework.
Aaron had told you everything there was to know about Haley and you’ve listened. He knows you adore her. You adore her for the same reasons he adored her. You understood the space Haley had in his life and in Jack’s life, and not once were you ever jealous, immature, or selfish about it. Even though he would’ve completely understood if you were.
You were nothing but supportive, and understanding, and loving. Even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when you deserved better. Admittedly, there was a point in time when he struggled with coming to terms with falling in love– with you nonetheless. You’re young, ambitious, brilliant, talented, insanely beautiful, and unfairly kind.
When the two of you had met, this was his profile: divorced with a kid, recovering from trauma that stemmed from being stabbed multiple times in his own home, emotionally unavailable, annoyingly serious and fatally dull– which really makes him wonder what made you fall in love with him in the first place, and even more so what made you stay even when he was bafflingly dense about how you felt about him.
He didn’t know how long he was standing there, like a deer caught in headlights. Replaying your words and his memories over and over again, slowly coming to the conclusion that you’re absolutely perfect and he’s absolutely gone for you.
Slowly coming to his senses, Aaron becomes more aware of the silence. The call must have ended while he was having realizations about things. He rounds the corner silently, getting a feel of where you’re facing. Luckily he guesses right, that you’re facing away from him.
You were rummaging through the fridge– the vegetable drawer if he had to guess, judging by how much you’re slouching and reaching, and the sound of the glass containers you use to prolong their freshness.
He quickly surveys the scene- your phone is on the counter, beside it is a chopping board with carrots and onions, a carton of chicken broth, Jack’s favorite dinosaur-shaped pasta, and chocolate milk– the one drink you both know can make Jack feel instantly better, happier.
His heart pinches again. You got up early to make sure Jack had something to eat for breakfast in time for his medicine. You got up early even though you aren’t planning on going to work. You aren’t going to work because you want to stay with Jack. You called Jack your son.
With so many things running in his head, he stands quietly observing you finding god knows whatever vegetable. Maybe it's the intensity of his stare or the volume of his thoughts, or maybe he started to breathe loudly– but suddenly you knew he was there. He could tell.
You slowly straightened your back from when you were leaning. Your hands have stopped rummaging through the drawer, and he could see the goosebumps on your legs and shoulders from the way the sunlight hits you through the kitchen window.
You turn around slowly, as if you were just caught doing something you aren’t supposed to be doing, “I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” grimacing as if it was a crime to be hot and cute and gut-wrenchingly-sweet.
“No.” His voice is groggy. Deep and rough given that he just woke up minutes ago and hasn’t really used it since. Looking at you through studying eyes, he clears his throat “Uhm, I woke up to get ready for work and you weren’t there.”
Aaron suddenly feels a little cold. The thin material of his shirt and pajamas doing little to contain what warmth he has left in his body. Or maybe it’s you, maybe his body has sensed that you’re near and is now craving your warmth, making him feel a magnified amount of its absence.
“Oh.. I’m sorry I just wanted to get ahead of cooking so Jack can have soup before he takes his medicine at 8 and since I was also planning to do some work though I’m on leave, it just made sense to get an early start…” You slow your words, noticing how Hotch is studying you tenfold in the moment, as if you were an apparition, “Are you okay? Did you want soup too? I can pack you some before you go?”
His silence makes you panic a little. You can’t really tell if he’s upset about something or if he’s sleepwalking, “Or you can eat here. I mean– you live here, of course you can eat here. I mean like instead of bringing it to the office– not that if you eat here, you can’t bring some anymore.”
The longer he stays silent, adoring you, the more you scramble to fill the silence, “I’m just– you know you can do whatever you want. You can eat here, there, anywhere. Unless you don’t want soup. I mean we still have leftover steak, I cou–”
You pause your rambling because you can see a smile starting to form on his face. A real, big smile. Laugh lines and dimples and all, which makes you smile. Realizing how stupid you were sounding and how funny the situation was becoming, you started giggling.
And just as you think he’s about to join the laughter to make fun of you, his smile softens and he says, “Marry me.”
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x reader fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner x reader angst#hotch fluff#aaron hotchner x you#jack hotchner#aaron hotchner x f!reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader
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For You: AU!Claggor x Reader
Summary: In the alternate timeline, Powder encourages you to admit your feelings for Claggor.
Words: 800+
Author's Notes: Adult alternate timeline Claggor is fine af so I wrote this short oneshot. Also I just needed to write something more lighthearted and cute after writing that devastating Viktor fic earlier. Enjoy <3
“I don’t get why you can’t just tell him,” Powder huffs, shuffling through her drawers for a particular brush. She glides on eyeshadow in your favorite colors, endlessly teasing you while she works, “It’s obvious he’s liked you since we were kids.”
“Oh, like finally admitting your feelings to Ekko was so easy,” you roll your eyes, causing her to scold you for opening them. “Besides, that’s not even true. He probably just sees me like a sister.”
“Look,” Powder tilts your chin up as she applies blush to your cheeks. “As someone who was actually raised as his sister, I can promise you he treats you differently. I catch him staring at you all the time, and he goes out of his way to be nice to you. Like, he literally made a new hybrid flower for you for your last birthday. What is it you’re not getting?”
“He gives plants to everyone, I don’t think I was special,” you shrug, pressing out your lips so Powder can swipe on some gloss.
“You’re a lost cause sometimes,” she sighs with a laugh. “Come on, it’s time to make our entrance.”
-
The Innovator’s Competition is crowded as usual, with loud music and ambient lights showering the entries and guests. Powder meets up with Ekko while you go to grab a drink and browse the inventions.
People start dancing, and you sway back and forth a bit to the beat. You don’t particularly want to third wheel right now, so you make do on the sidelines. You’re closer to the snacks here, anyway.
“Wow, Y/N. You look beautiful.”
You whip your head towards the voice, your mouth stuffed with one of Jericho’s famous, sloppy appetizers.
“Oh! Hi, Claggor!” You swallow as quickly as you can and wipe your face with your sleeve. “Sorry, um, thank you.”
“Anytime,” he chuckles. “How come you’re not out there dancing?”
“I...I just don’t like dancing alone,” you say, your eyes darting back to Powder and the other couples and friend groups on the dance floor.
“Well let’s go then,” he extends his hand to you.
You smile and take it, weaving through the crowd as he pulls you towards the middle. You see Powder give you a thumbs up before your attention is back on Claggor, and suddenly the crowded room feels less overwhelming.
You let lose, showing off your most ridiculous dance moves without a worry in the world. That was the thing about Claggor, he always made you feel safe, like you could be yourself whenever he was around. There is never a glimmer of judgment in his eyes, never an inkling of unkindness. He’s been your most stable and trusted friend for years—he played with you, explored the city with you, mourned with you, rejoiced with you. He’s just that kind of guy, with a heart of gold that never wavers.
But if you told him how you really feel—how you’ve felt since you were young—things might not be the same.
-
After the competition, Claggor takes the scenic route while walking you home, showing you a couple new gardens he’s been working on around the city. He hopes that one day plant life can be the key to the pollution problem in the underground, a dream that isn’t too far off with the latest hybrids and prototypes he’s made. It’s fascinating, and you’ve always admired his natural talent with nature.
He picks you a flower from one of the gardens, the kind he knows are your favorite.
“For you,” he says, slithering the stem into your hair. His hands, his face—it’s all so dangerously close now. You can feel his warmth, feel his gentle gaze.
Maybe Powder’s right, no man who saw you as just a friend would look at you like this.
You take the chance and close the space between you, kissing him quickly before stepping back to gauge his reaction.
He immediately pulls you back in, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you harder. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twiddling with his soft wavy hair.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he says, your lips barely moving apart.
“I think I have some idea,” you giggle.
“Would you look at that, what did I tell ya?” You see Powder and Ekko coming around the corner, clearly ecstatic about this new opportunity to tease you. “Finally.”
Claggor keeps holding you close as you fire back, “Did you follow us just to say ‘I told you so’?”
“Nah, I didn’t even know you left the party yet,” Powder laughs. “But boy am I glad I saw this!”
She keeps walking with Ekko, whispering and chuckling as they go. You and Claggor can’t help but burst into your own fit of laughter as well, basking in the hilarity of the whole situation.
“We’ll never live this down, will we?” Claggor smirks.
“Absolutely not.”
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ex-boyfriend fratboy!rafe. god help me!
cw. smut (mdni), fem!reader, toxic relationship, alcohol and drug use, mirror sex, degradation kink.
the music sounds distant, muffled by the white-tiled walls that appeared a light, smudged gray thanks to the alcohol fogging your brain—and the way his pelvis kissed your ass with each plap-plap-plap, echoing in the bathroom of a party you weren’t even supposed to be at. for this exact reason. you knew how it would end. with your lame coked-up excuse of an ex inside you.
and still, you couldn't even answer the big, ugly question sitting in your gut: why the fuck do i keep letting him do this? your body had betrayed you again, thighs spread wide and shaking as his cock hit that spot that made your toes curl against the cold tile. and, of course, your eyes met his in the large, square mirror above the sink. a voyeuristic form of self-loathing. as if you needed to confirm, once again, how the promises of, “no, i’m not gonna talk to him, not even look at him, i promise!” made to your friends, were entirely baseless.
perhaps even they had already accepted it—
“fuck,” he groaned, and a grin stretched across his stupidly handsome face as you let out another loud moan when his fat tip grazes your g-spot, bingo. thankfully, for the sake of your peace of mind (because he, more than once, hadn’t cared if the entire party heard how good his cock made you feel), the host’s house was massive. you’d ended up here with him because all the other bathrooms were occupied when the drinks you’d downed earlier hit, and that’s how you found yourself in the second-floor bathroom at the end of the hall. that's how “pee-and-leave” turned into this.
his right hand—the one not gripping your shoulder with his beefy arm wrapped tightly around your trembling torso—moved up, cupping your jaw and forcing you to look into the mirror at the two of you: sweaty, panting bodies.
“fuckin’ look at that,” he panted, gaze flicking down. “hah, shit, look how those two bounce,” he slapped the side of your breast, leaving a hot, stinging mark. he was so mean.
and you hated yourself for clenching around him because of it.
his laugh was this low, mean sound, vibrating against your back as he leaned forward, his chest slick with sweat pressing into you like he needed to get as deep as possible. fucking gross. the thought was interrupted by the hot breath skating over the shell of your ear. “see that face you’re making?” he murmured. “‘s my favorite one. you look so—fuckin’—wrecked.”
and god, if he wasn’t right. your eyeliner had betrayed you hours ago, smeared into shadows that made your eyes look too big, too wide, like a haunted doll. your lips were red and swollen, half from the sloppy kiss that started this whole thing and half from biting down so hard to keep yourself quiet. the woman staring back at you was enjoying it, there was no way to deny that.
“shut up,” you hissed, you just wanted to look away. but his fingers curled tighter around your jaw, already marking his digits there.
“you don’t want me to shut up,” he taunted, his hips rolling deeper, lazier. like he had all the time in the world to ruin you. “you love it when i talk, when i tell you how fuckin’ good you’re taking it, like the slut you are.”
you hated him. you hated him so much you could cry—you were going to cry, but for different reasons. you hated the way he always knew exactly what to say, to keep you squeezing him between your slick walls, and getting you addicted every day a little bit more, increasing the dose.
but the worst part—the part that made your chest twist like a wet towel, wringing out something raw and acidic—was how he was right. he always was. every damn time. you hated how he’d figured you out. he was your ex, goddamn it!
because yeah, you did love it. loved the sound of his low voice dragging over your nerves like a matchstick ready to explode a bomb. loved the way his cock stretched you open until it felt like your brain short-circuited, leaving nothing but static between your ears. loved that stupid smirk, too. it wasn’t fair. he wasn’t fair.
you tried to focus on anything else—the way the faucet dripped, the faint bassline pulsing through the floor beneath you, keeping your eyes open. “rafe,” you whispered in a treacherous moan.
his hand slid down your belly, splayed wide like he was claiming you, branding you his. “tell me,” his voice was almost tender now, mockery softened by the way he groaned as you clenched around him. “tell me how much you hate me while you’re drippin’ all over my cock.”
you didn’t say anything. couldn’t. your throat tightened as your hips jerked back to meet his thrusts, sharp and desperate, chasing something you’d regret in the morning along with the hangover. or maybe right after you came. but right now, you needed it like you needed air.
his laughter curled around you, mean and knowing, as his hand slid up your belly, splayed possessively just under your ribs. like he owned you. like he always had, no matter how many times you’d tried to scrape him out of your system. “that’s what I thought,” he muttered, his lips brushing your temple like a kiss. like he thought he was being romantic, like he thought this was some kind of fucked-up love story. “hate me all you want, baby. but this?” his hand slid lower, between your legs, pinching your sensitive clit, making you bite your lip hard enough to taste blood as your legs buckled. “this don’t lie.”
#៹ 𔘓 pinkgic ! ꞌꞋ ࣪#𝓡. 𝓒.#[ ⋆ fem!reader ]#season one!rafe ⤸#fratboy!rafe ⤸#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#pinkgic's works ᡣ𐭩#outer banks
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Helloooo can you do a Jinx x femreader where they were dying Isha’s hair? The reader’s kinda just watching everything unfold and realising how much she loves Jinx when she sees her around Isha
of course! thank you for requesting :) i had a lot of fun writing this, honestly needed this after the events of act 3
summary: scenario of fem! reader watching jinx with isha.
characters included: jinx (romantic), isha (platonic/familial)
tags/warnings: fluff, mother/mother/daughter dynamic, spoilers for arcane s2 (act ii specifically).
men dni.
"hey, stop moving!" jinx playfully scolded isha, earning a giggle from the little girl. she shook her head, giving a wide smile to your girlfriend. "come on, i can't do this if you don't stay still."
jinx already has isha in a makeshift, miniature version of her own outfit which she employed your help to make. despite all of jinx's mechanical expertise, she somehow can't sew to save her life. just a few minutes prior, she used various shades of eyeshadow to draw on her tattoos. all the while, she strategically turned isha away from the mirror. the reveal had to be a surprise.
"pass me the hair dye, toots, would ya?" jinx asked, shooting a glance at you over her shoulder. you grabbed the bottle from a box of (stolen) cosmetics, passing it to her. she quickly snatched it up, and shot you a toothy grin as a silent thanks. she sat isha down in a paint-covered bathtub, jinx settling down directly behind her.
she got to work with isha's hair, running a brush through it quickly, then dipping a frayed paintbrush into the bottle to slather blue dye on isha's hair. isha jumped a bit at the cold sensation at first, but quickly relaxed. "yeah.. feels weird, i bet. i'll be done soon, 'kay?" jinx soothed, her hands moving swiftly in the girl's hair. even with a brush, she managed to get blue dye on her hands while making sure each of the strands were evenly coated.
all the while, you sat cross-legged on the floor besides the box of assorted items, watching the spectacle unfold in front of you. you had never seen jinx be so.. gentle with someone aside from yourself. so playful, so free of inhibitions or anxiety. it was endearing, truly.
you weren’t just seeing jinx, you were seeing powder shining through.
you couldn’t help but smile, jinx seemingly oblivious to you at present. she finished coating isha’s hair with dye, and you chuckled to yourself at the sight of isha’s usually fluffy hair suddenly so flat. it was cute. jinx looked over at you quickly, and beamed. she looked so happy.
god, you loved her. this could be something, right here. you, jinx, and isha. a family of sorts.
“i’ll be done soon, babe, okay?”
“okay, jinx. do you want help?”
“hmm…” jinx replied, her nose crinkling and putting her dye-stained hands on her hips. she wracked her brain for a second, pursing her lips, clearly wanting to involve you in this more than you already were. “you can dry her hair off, and help me with the big reveal!” she smiled.
you nodded, giving a mock-salute, much to jinx’s amusement. “oh, cut that out.” she playfully rolled her eyes. jinx gently guided isha out of the bathtub, and instructed her to tilt her head back, so that she could rinse her hair. the water ran blue, the little girl’s eyes slipping shut and a slow exhale escaping her.
you grabbed a towel from a makeshift shelf, and plopped it onto isha’s head. she squealed, suddenly unable to see, and giggled as you hastily dried her hair off. “all dry soon, kid. you’ve got some thick hair!” you observed. isha either didn’t hear you, or didn’t know what that meant. jinx just stood behind the two of you, trying to hold in her laughter. jinx crouched down beside you to braid the girl’s hair, her fingers still moving while she pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. oh, jinx.
you lead isha to jinx’s mirror by her shoulders, jinx’s slender fingers covering her eyes. when you got to a stool, you lightly grabbed isha by her sides and lifted her, setting her down in front of the mirror. all the while, jinx’s hands were still covering her eyes, giggling.
jinx looked over at you, seemingly waiting for the okay to reveal isha’s makeover. you put your hands atop jinx’s, both obscuring isha’s vision even more. jinx’s hands were cold and calloused, but there wasn’t a feeling you loved more than those hands.
she quirked an eyebrow, those big, pink eyes that you loved so much looking straight at you, and you nodded. “you ready, kid?” you asked, and isha began frantically nodding. she was practically bursting at the seams with excitement.
you and your girlfriend both lifted your hands. “ta-da!” jinx exclaimed, smiling ear-to-ear. the pure surprise and wonder on isha’s face was incredible, examining herself in the shattered glass, toying with the small braids jinx had given her. isha looked back at you, trying to contain her joy.
“you’re lucky. i didn’t get to much of this with my older sis,” jinx began, looking down at the girl imitating her. pretending to shoot her zapper, making little ‘pew’ noises. it was adorable, and your heart swelled in your chest at the sight. “she was always… punching stuff.” her dark lips pursed, and you stepped forward to gently grasp jinx’s hand, before ruffling isha’s now-blue hair.
“no, but you still turned out pretty cool, love.” you remarked, much to jinx’s amusement. she shot you a little smile, lovingly squeezing your hand. “you flatter me.” she said, before closing the gap between the two of you.
pressing a soft, warm kiss to your lips, now intertwining your fingers. it was peaceful. it was sweet. you loved her-
and you heard isha groan in disgust to the side of you, breaking away to see the girl covering her eyes. jinx just giggled, gave your hand a final squeeze, and joked, “kissing, gross! i know, right?”
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Christmas: B.E
The room is filled with the soft scent of pine and the warm glow of Christmas lights. Billie is balanced on a step ladder, carefully hanging ornaments near the top of the tree. You stand a few feet away, holding the next batch of decorations and watching her with a smirk.
“Y’know,” you say, crossing your arms, “if you need help, I could always grab a taller ladder.”
Billie glances down at you, one brow arched. “I don’t need a taller ladder. I’m perfectly capable, thank you.”
“Uh-huh,” you tease. “Because you’re doing great up there, Little Miss Five-Two.”
“I’m five-three!” she shoots back, her tone sharp but playful. “And don’t act like you’re towering over me or something.”
“Still taller,” you quip with a grin. “Want me to hand you a stool for extra support?”
She huffs, turning back to the tree. “You’re lucky I like you, or you’d be decorating this tree alone.”
“Lucky, huh?” you muse, biting back a laugh as she stretches up to place another ornament. “Maybe you’d be luckier if you had an inch or two more.”
Billie twists her head to glare at you mid-reach, but the movement makes the ladder wobble. Her eyes widen. “Oh—!”
The next second feels like slow motion. The ladder tips, and Billie loses her balance. You leap forward just as she tumbles, catching her awkwardly but still ending up on the floor with her landing halfway on top of you.
“Billie!” you exclaim, sitting up quickly. “Are you okay?”
She groans, shifting slightly to sit up. “Ugh… Yeah, I think so. Just—ow—my arm.”
“Let me see.” You gently take her arm, inspecting it with care. She winces but doesn’t pull away. “It’s not broken, but you’re probably gonna feel that tomorrow.”
“Great,” she mutters, leaning back against the couch. “This is what I get for trying to prove I can reach the top.”
“Or for ignoring gravity,” you say, brushing a pine needle off her sweater. Your tone softens as you look at her. “You scared me for a second there.”
Her lips twitch, half a smile despite the situation. “Guess I should’ve just let you do it.”
“Probably.” You stand, offering her your hand. “But now you’re officially banned from ladders.”
“Who’s gonna finish the tree?” she asks, letting you help her to her feet.
“I will,” you say, guiding her to the couch. “You can supervise. From the ground.”
As she sits down, Billie smirks faintly. “If you mess it up, I’m still blaming you.”
“Deal,” you reply, grabbing the next ornament. “But you’re not living this fall down.”
Her groan is half annoyance, half amusement. “Merry Christmas to me.”
Timeskip
The room is peaceful now, the lights from the Christmas tree casting a soft glow over the walls. The Grinch plays quietly on the TV, the muted sound of his scheming blending with the faint hum of the heater. You’re stretched out on the couch, a blanket draped over the both of you. Billie is curled up on top of you, her head resting against your chest, her soft breaths warm against your neck.
You glance at the tree, a quiet sense of pride settling in. It turned out pretty well, even if finishing it solo wasn’t part of the original plan. Billie stirs slightly, and you shift your hand to gently brush her hair away from her face. Her eyelids flutter, and she looks up at you, her dark lashes heavy with sleep.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” you murmur, smiling down at her. “How’s your arm?”
She stretches slightly, groaning as she moves it. “Still sore,” she admits, her voice husky from sleep. “But not as bad as earlier.”
“Well, that’s good,” you reply, your fingers brushing along her jaw. “Guess you’ll live another day.”
She smirks faintly, her eyes sparkling despite the low light. “You’re lucky you caught me. Would’ve been a lot worse if I hit the floor.”
“I’m always lucky when it comes to you,” you say, your tone softer now. “But let’s try to keep the death-defying stunts to a minimum.”
Billie chuckles, her voice still groggy. “No promises. You know me.”
“Yeah,” you say, your lips quirking into a grin. “I do. And that’s why I’m always gonna be here to catch you.”
Her smirk fades into something more tender as she shifts closer, her nose brushing against yours. “Guess I should thank you properly, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say no,” you reply, your voice dropping slightly. She tilts her head, closing the distance between you as her lips meet yours in a slow, lazy kiss.
The warmth of her mouth lingers, and you cup her face gently, pulling her closer. What starts as soft and sweet quickly deepens, her hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. You lose yourself in the moment, the world outside the blanket cocoon you’ve created fading away.
Billie pulls back just slightly, her forehead resting against yours. “You’re really good at this, you know,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your lips.
“Good at what?” you tease, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Saving you or kissing you?”
“Both,” she replies, grinning before she kisses you again, her lips soft but insistent. This time, her weight shifts slightly, and you hold her tighter to keep her steady.
“I think you’re just trying to distract me from asking about your arm,” you say between kisses, your voice low but teasing.
“Maybe,” she admits with a sly smile. “Is it working?”
“Definitely,” you whisper before pulling her back in, the soft glow of the tree and the sound of the Grinch’s laughter your only witnesses.
Her lips pressed against yours with a mix of urgency and sweetness, her fingers curling into your hair as if she didn’t want you to pull away. Each kiss deepened slowly, building a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
When you moved your lips to her jawline, Billie let out a soft, shaky breath, her head tilting instinctively to give you more access. You trailed your kisses along her neck, the faintest touch of your tongue grazing her skin. She inhaled sharply, her body pressing closer to yours as she whispered, “God…” barely audible, almost like a prayer.
Encouraged, you lingered, your lips finding the sensitive spot just below her ear. A small, quiet moan escaped her, the sound lighting a fire in your chest. Her hands gripped the fabric of your shirt, grounding herself as your kisses grew more deliberate, each one drawing another sigh or soft sound from her lips.
When you pulled back just slightly to meet her eyes, her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven. “You’re so unfair,” she murmured, her voice laced with a playful frustration, though her lips were already seeking yours again.
#pov#billie eilish#billieeilish#hit me hard and soft#wlw#wlw post#christmas#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you#billie ellish lyrics#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish lunch#girls kissing girls#make out
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ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4
↳ pt.4
summary : A week of not so secret flirting, drunken parties, and being surrounded by your best friends; it ends with a promise and a kiss.
og summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.
listen up : suggestive comments!! kissing! language!! all done <33 thanks for all the love recently i truly love you all. final part pt.1 pt.2 pt.3
word count : 3324 + tiny bit of smau
⋆。‧˚⋆
My feet are freezing but my torso is warm. My head hurts and when I move to sit up in bed, I'm yanked back down by a weight over my waist.
What? I eye the arm over me and trail it all the way to the man next to me. No.
I practically throw his arm off me but he doesn’t wake up, just stirs a bit and tugs on the blanket. It moves down his bare chest to reveal his tanned abs.
I’m in my pajamas. My hair is knotted. My head is pounding. I hit Lando with a pillow.
“Norris!”
He groans, turning away from me and mumbling. Once he realizes the person yelling at him is in his bed, he blinks at me. “What could be so important that you’re waking me up by pillow?” His morning voice is deep and scratchy.
“What the fuck am I doing here!?” I remember going out. I don’t remember making my way into Lando’s bed!
He rolls his eyes then closes them. I hit him again, “Hey!”
“Lando!” I yell again, then my hand goes to my mouth and my eyes widen, “We didn’t…”
He looks genuinely offended, “Give me some credit, Pretty. You’d know.” His arms go to the back of his head, a slight smirk on his face.
I screw my face up, “You’re disgusting.”
“You’re the one who brought it up.” I hit him again, “Okay! Okay! You came here to get your purse but you were shit drunk and wouldn’t leave.”
Shit. “Oh.” I do not recall this at all. I cross my arms. “You couldn’t have slept on the couch?”
“You crashed my bed!” I remember him calling me beautiful.
I groan and stand up, pulling my hair up and finally spotting my purse. The floor is freezing and I can feel Lando’s eyes on me as I cross his room.
“You really don’t remember anything from last night?” I turn back so see him leant over the bed, the comforter dangerously low on his waist.
I turn back and pretend to look in my bag, “I don’t remember anything after my third shot and you dancing with that girl.” I know it’s the wrong thing to say right as it leaves my mouth.
“Oh… So you got drunk because you were jealous.” I don’t need to turn around to know he’s smirking.
“Goodbye Lando.” I make my way to the door.
“You’re not denying it!” He yells after me.
I shake my head and grab the door handle, “Truce, Norris. Don’t forget it!”
⋆༺
My friends and I meet for breakfast, gossiping about the locals and everything that happened last night. “You didn’t answer when I knocked this morning.” Rebecca looks at me while stirring her coffee.
“Hot night?” Alex teases as I make eye contact with Lily who’s smirking.
“I must have just been asleep…” My tone is less than convincing and me being late to breakfast didn’t help either. “You can’t freak out.”
I tell them about waking up next to Lando, their jaws dropped and their hands paused on utensils. Lily is the least shocked but definitely the most disappointed when I share that I didn’t have sex with him.
“Ok i’m officially freaking out!” Kika drops her fork, shaking her head as I prepare for the million questions they have for me.
⋆༺
LANDO
“Last day!” Pierre claps his hands together as we walk down the streets of turkey. The girls’ absence is very noticeable because my friends are fully attentive this morning.
“I’m sad.” Carlos sighs, “I don’t want to go back to real life.”
“I’m excited to go back!” Alex shrugs, looking around the white buildings, “I miss my cat.”
“I don’t know.” I say, “I've enjoyed this trip a lot. But I do need a break from you muppets.”
Charles hits my arm, “You only enjoyed it so much because you finally stopped toying around with Y/n.”
“Truth!” Pierre laughs, “I think you two are a great addition to the group. I mean you’re already in it but now everyone has a couple.
I eye him. “We’re not a couple. She barely likes me as it is.”
Carlos shakes his head, “Mate… She definitely likes you more than ‘barely’. Y/n may be strong willed but I've never seen her blush so much.”
I roll my eyes and pretend like that doesn’t make me like her more. “We’re friends. I think.”
“You think?” Charles raises a brow.
“I guess.” I say.
“Lando!” Carlos practically screams and slaps his hands down on my shoulders, “You need to ask her out.”
“I’m not asking her out! She’s scary as fuck.”
“Pussy.” Pierre and Alex cough at the same time as I side eye them.
“You’re just scared she’s gonna reject you.” Carlos says in my ear as I elbow him in the stomach, “Ow!”
“Fuck off and let’s go.”
⋆༺
YOU
I know he’s staring at me. I know he’s not trying to cover it up. I know he wants me to look back.
And I know I look good as hell.
“Norris!” Carlos calls from the water, “Come on!”
Lando doesn’t respond so I assume he shook his head because I don’t hear him getting up. I open my eyes and tilt my sunglasses down just as a smile breaks out on Lando’s face.
I suddenly understand the extent of why women fall at his feet. He’s got glasses on but his smile makes me want him to break my heart.
“Wanna go swim?”
I’m laying on my stomach so I rest my head against my warm arm and respond, “Go swim with Carlos.”
He rolls his eyes, “I don’t want to swim with Carlos.”
“Too bad. So sad.” I close my eyes again as I hear him mumble something under his breath.
“Wanna talk about your little jealously streak then?”
I sit up and face the water, “You’re one to talk.” He gives me a look to which I pull my sunglasses back on my head to fully look at him, “You gave that waiter a death glare!”
“He was being weird.”
I shake my head and laugh, “He was asking if I wanted parmesan!”
Lando does not look amused, playing around with his camera, “Parmesan is just where it starts…”
“So what? It’s cheese then asking to fuck me?”
He crosses his arms on the tanning chair, “Exactly.”
I breathe out, looking out at our friends in the water and the clear skies. “You shouldn’t care about that, Lando.”
“I can’t help it.” He shuffles around, snapping a few pictures as he nonchalantly says, “You looked good in my bed.”
I turn to him again, trying to actually see if he’s being serious but his face doesn’t crack into a smile. I’m speechless. And it’s embarrassing. “I- No.” I place my feet onto the sand and quickly stand, pulling off my sarong as I walk down the beach.
He follows me, of course he does.
“Don’t hide, Pretty. You blushing because of me is a lovely sight.” His fucking smile, god!
I’m frustrated that I can’t act cool around him all of the sudden, “Why don’t you look at the very beautiful ocean right in front of us!?”
He doesn’t even glance at the view, “I prefer you.”
My lips pull together in a thin line, “I can’t stand you.”
“I have a sneaking suspicion…” he steps forward and whispers, “that you can.”
I swallow and accidentally make eye contact with Lily who is smirking at us. I know they can’t hear what he’s saying but it still makes me nervous. “I’m sorry for last night.” It’s all I can think to say.
“I think we already established that it was no problem.” Right because he liked me in his bed! Kill me now. “Don't worry. We’ll have a redo soon enough.”
He starts walking away from me as I gasp, “A redo!? Lando what do you mean!?”
He starts walking backward, slowly. “One on both our terms? One with two sober attractive people?” He raises a brow.
I cross my arms but honestly want to laugh. I walk closer, “Keep dreaming, Norris.”
“It’s called manifesting, actually!” Is all he says before picking me up and slinging me over his shoulder. It takes me so off guard that I can’t help my scream.
“Lando!”
I can hear the smirk in his voice, his hands gripping my legs, “Scream my name, Pretty.”
⋆༺
LANDO
I’m looking at her again.
A little less admiring this time because i’m holding back a laugh as she tries to take Pierre down in a game of chicken.
She’s on Carlos’ shoulders while Charles has Pierre sat on his. Everyone is laughing around us as they watch the four.
I don’t even realize the man next to me until he clears her throat, “Hey man.” He’s american.
“Hi.” I think he’s going to ask for picture or something but then he looks up at Y/n and I get a sick sort of feeling that this is my karma for teasing her.
He looks back at me and gives me a cheesy grin, “I’m Nate.”
I nod slowly, “Hi Nate.”
“Mine telling me your friend's name?” Ok rude. He didn’t even ask for mine. I hate him.
“Carlos?” I blink, pointing to the man.
Nate laughs a bit awkwardly, “Nah man… The hot girl on his shoulders.”
“Oh.” I eye him, my disdain obvious, “That’s Y/n.”
“Y/n, huh? She single?” I give him a look to which he looks frightened at, His hand goes to my shoulder and I fight the urge to step back, “Shit! She’s not your girl, is she?”
“Um…” Everything in me wants to say yes. “No. No she’s not.”
He hums, “Right… I know that look. I’ll back off, I get it.” He’s grinning like he knows all my secrets, “Sorry to bother you.” I think he’s going to leave but he stops, “Man also- in my experience, it’s not a good sign, guys asking you about her.”
He leaves.
What the fuck? I finally get the girl to tolerate me and now everyone thinks I'm supposed to fall at her feet and beg her?
Yeah I'll do it.
⋆༺
YOU
The day has flown by, with the sun burning us one last time and our lunch at the best local place where the chef adores us. I’m sad to go. Even If we still have this last night.
Dinner is slow and quiet, we’re all pretty tired but comment on little things around us.
I’m in a long dark blue dress, my favorite for our last night. Lando’s next to me and by the end of our dinner, he rests his head on my shoulder. I say nothing because I like his closeness.
Kika clears her throat, “This was an amazing trip and I'm very glad I got to enjoy it with you lot. I’m very very thankful for everyone here, and how our little group operates.”
Pierre rubs her back, “I’m thankful for hotel beds. And mojitos and sunscreen.” I laugh as Alex starts.
“I’m grateful for fish and sunglasses.”
Lily shakes her head, “I’m thankful for my lovely friends and for all the amazing food we ate! Plus me beating Lando in golf.”
Lando groans next to me, “I’ll get you one day, Lil.”
I smile, “I’m grateful for the ocean! And boat rides and night swims.”
“I’m grateful for spas and books!” Alexandra joins in.
Charles smiles at her lovingly, “I’m thankful for friends and cooking classes.” God that seems like forever ago.
“I’m thankful for golf as well!” Carlos grins, “And wine.”
Rebecca laughs and squeezes his hand, “I’m grateful for morning yoga and sunsets.”
Lando doesn’t sit up when it’s his turn, just stays resting on my shoulder, “I’m thankful for my camera and all the pretty views I've captured.” His foot nudges mine.
I blink, looking down at him as he just stares forward. Kika grins and holds up her glass, “To us!” I join as we all hold up our respective drinks.
“To us!” We repeat and cheers, Lando’s head leaving my shoulder as he holds up his water.
“You know…” Pierre looks around at us, “I’m not very tired.”
Carlos grins and taps his finger against the table, “It’s our last night…”
Lily laughs and stands, “Beach bar!”
⋆༺
The thought of drinking makes me feel sick so I stick to water. Lando is nursing a drink but it’s the same one I've seen him with all night.
I catch his eye while he’s talking to the bartender, he smiles softly and makes his way over to me immediately.
“Hi.” Hi? I don’t think Lando’s ever said Hi to me.
“Hello…?”
He leans against the bar as the music gets louder, “Fun night?”
I nod, sipping my water as someone bumps into us. He drunkenly apologizes before Lando looks at me again, “Want to go for a walk?”
I find walking down the beach at night with Lando far too often… Not that i’m complaining.
His drink is gone and his shoes are in his hand as mine are in mine, “Accomplish everything you wanted to?”
“Accomplish?” I laugh, “Do you go to every vacation with a to-do list?”
He shrugs shyly, “Maybe a mental one. Like I knew I needed to jet ski. I didn’t know it would end up with an attempted drowning…”
I scoff and hit his arm, “I wish your dramatic ass did drown.”
He just grins, “You’re remarkably bad at lying.”
I shake my head, looking back at him, “It’s something about you… You call me out on everything.”
“Because it’s so easy to catch. Even if you’re joking… you bite your lip a bit. No matter the lie.”
I frown, “You notice things like that?”
He looks past me at the water, then back to me. His face is shaded but the moonlight helps see his features, “I notice a lot of things about you.”
“If you told me that a week ago… I would have laughed in your face.”
“It didn’t just start this week. You just avoided me at every chance you got before this trip, but you’re hard to miss.”
I’m walking backwards now, looking at his loose button down and his hand in his pocket, “Are you saying you watched me, Norris?”
“I don’t think you understand that you’re very interesting to watch.” I go to speak but he cuts me off, “And don’t you dare call me creep. I know you do it too.”
I smile, “I’m grateful for you, Lando.”
His brows raise, “Am I being pranked…?” He comes to a stop as I push his shoulder back.
“I am. You bug the good out of me.”
He sets down his shoes, the music and lights from the beach bar far away but still seen and heard softly. “I’m glad you think so.”
It surprises me when his hand goes to my waist, “What are you doing?” I say quickly.
“Humor me.” Is all he says as his other hand meets my waist for the second time. I move my arms to his shoulders, my hand behind his head.
“Do you dance with all your friends by moonlight?” We sway a bit together.
He smiles again, his eyes so bright even in the dark, “I can tell you in confidence that this is a Y/n special. But you hurt me a bit.”
I raise a brow, “What?”
“Friendzoned while thinking about kissing you isn’t a fun thing.” My heart rate starts up.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Go out with me. When we get back.” I watch him talk so close to me, “No hostess forcing us together or shitty small talk. Come on, Pretty. For real.” He’s so beautiful and so nice and so funny.
“We don’t live close. Lando, you travel-”
“Fuck that. I’m asking you on a date in Monaco because I like you, a lot. If nothing else was in the way, what would you say?” He seems almost nervous and it makes me smile because he never shows this side of him.
“I would say yes.” I can’t help it. “But those things are very real and…”
“And?” He raises a brow, a smile replacing his nervous face.
I can’t help but smile, “And I like you. Maybe too much…” this makes his grin widen. “But still!”
“I can fly. I don’t know if you know this…” he leans in closer to whisper in my ear, “But I have some extra money.”
I pretend to push away but he holds me tight, “One date.”
He nods, repeating my words, “One date.”
“Our friends will freak out.”
“They’ll love it.”
“I know they will.” I shake my head, “I swear this was just a ploy to get us together.”
He laughs, “It worked, didn’t it?”
I laugh with him because he’s correct. I started this week with a bad attitude and a need for sun. I’m leaving it with a pretty boy and tanned skin.
“You still don’t know a lot about me.” We sway.
Lando shrugs, our faces extra close now, “I know you can talk for hours. I’ll listen.”
And I know he’s not lying.
“I’m annoying a lot of the time.”
He nods far too theatrically, “Trust me, I know!” I step on his foot but he just uses it as a way to bring me closer. I can hear his breathing and when I meet his eyes again, they’re soft and kind, “One more thing.”
“Go for it, Norris.” I’m whispering but I don’t know why.
There’s no one around, just the faint sound of music and waves crashing. “Can I kiss you?” It’s something so simple that I want to cry.
I smile, “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Norris.” He gives me a look, “Yes, Lando. You can kiss me anytime.”
And so he does.
⋆༺
LANDO
She smells like coconuts and tastes like mint. Her lips are soft against mine.
Our first kiss was on this beach, but it was different. It was hungry and intrigued. I was drunk and she was ethereal.
Now, she’s still beautiful but I'm not drunk. She’s soft. Does that make sense? It makes sense to me. She’s soft against me, his hands brush my neck and cheek, I can feel her smile against me.
Her kiss is something writers dream about and something I’ve imagined in a million different scenarios.
The start of this trip, my main goal was to tease and bug her until she broke. My goal now has been fulfilled with her promise of a real date and her kissing me like I actually mean something to her.
I like that I mean something to her.
She pulls back, her hands on my neck and in my hair, “You’re really beautiful too, you know.” Her lipgloss is smudged and her dress is getting wrinkled under my touch.
I take her in, every inch of her. I want to burn this moment in my brain forever. I haven’t stopped smiling for hours and it’s all because of her. “You’re amazing.”
She laughs, “You don’t have to one up my compliment.” I really didn’t mean to even try.
“I’m serious.” Her face tells me she understands suddenly, “Thank you, Y/n. You really are my favorite surprise this trip.”
She smiles, her hand on my chest, “I never believed our friends. They used to say how great we’d be together.”
“They’re geniuses and I owe them my life.” I shrug as she laughs my favorite laugh in the world: the one where I make her head drop and her teeth show.
“I’m sorry I ever was mean to you.”
“That’s alright…” I push back a strand of her hair, “Everyone needs a bit of foreplay.”
LANDONORRIS
landonorris DUMP FROM MARMARIS!! I miss it and I hate the rain.
username262 : TAN LANDO IS BACK
↳ username32 : he’s literally always tan i’m jealous
yourusername : 😊☀️
↳ landonorris :😋🫵
↳ username123 : what…?
username01 : who is the girl lando??
↳ username44 : his friend!! him and some drivers + girlfriends were on the trip
↳ username56 : interesting that they were the only single ones there…
pierregasly : let’s go back
charlesleclerc : alexandra is already planning another one (this time as a true couples trip)
↳ landonorris : WOAHHH SHHH
landofan4 : she’s sooo pretty istg how do these men pull these women!?
↳ username628 : they’re not even confirmed??
↳ username25 : trust me they will be in a month.
carlossainz : maybe you won’t suck at golf next time
↳ lilymunihe : not likely.
kikagomez : treat her poorly and i’ll punch you
↳ yourusername : punch him!
↳ landonorris : i haven’t even done anything?? and i wont!!!
maxfewtrell : thanks for the invite
alexalbon : I love the part of this dump where the only solo pics are of you and Y/n……..🤨🤨🤨🤨
↳ yourusername : funny alex my favorite part is the same thing😁😁😁
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris angst#lando x you#lando norris series
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drew tells a story about actress!reader
masterlist | actress!reader masterlist
this one’s a bit short, but it was suggested and i thought it was really cute so yk i had to write it. based off of drew’s recent esquire interview <3
“Your audition tape for Queer was a slam dunk, can you tell us what you did for the tape?” Drew read the question card.
“Oh, this is actually a funny story.” Drew laughed to himself, crossing his legs. “The first one I had my good friend Rudy Pankow help me tape it. I usually have my girlfriend help me, but she was shooting at the time.”
“One of the scenes was me in bed, I believe, and so Rudy came to my apartment,” Drew explained, speaking dramatically with his hands, “and I had my camera and tripod set up and I was laying in the bed, kinda sort-of framing myself and he came in was like… ‘so what are we doing’?”
Drew laughed, “and I told him, ‘just trust me, ok, I need your help’. Then, as if it couldn’t get any more suspicious, my wonderful girlfriend, y/n, gets back from shooting and walks into our room to find me and Rudy on our bed with the camera set up.”
“I was like, ‘babe I promise this is not what it looks like, I’m just filming an audition’, but she was already like on the floor, crying and laughing.” Drew grinned at the memory, the site of y/n’s smile and adorable laughter playing in his mind.
“But, I appreciate him for helping me with that… and y/n for not freaking out at the strange site she walked in on.” Drew laughed, flipping to the next card.
“Oh, speak of the devil, your good friend y/n y/ln was quoted saying, ‘Drew is probably the scariest sweetheart you’ll ever meet’,” Drew blushed as he read, “what is it like finding the balance between ‘scary’ and ‘sweetheart’ roles?”
The quote was from an interview when someone asked y/n if she ever felt intimidated or even scared working opposite Drew as the big bad Rafe Cameron on Outer Banks. While the scenes between their characters on OBX would certainly get intense at times, it wasn’t very often she was “scared” of Drew. After all, she knew her boyfriend better than anyone else and knew the big heart hiding behind his imposing exterior.
“Wow, I’d like to thank my ‘good friend’ y/n y/ln for that wonderful quote.” Drew grinned, scratching his jaw bashfully. “Well I certainly like to challenge myself, and y’know depending on where I am, that could come in the form of more intense roles or more grounded or more kinda… soft? I don’t know. Y/n says I need to be in a rom com, so maybe that’ll be the next step after this.”
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hii can u pls do angst #50 with seungcheol? and ofc, not an happy ending >__< i love ur writing sm, thank you!
ah!!! yes I can!! thank you for requesting 🤍
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list
angst prompt #50: "I hope they're worth it."
seungcheol stumbled through the front door, the faint scent of alcohol and guilt clinging to his skin. the clock on the wall read 8:23am, but he didn’t need to check the time to know he was late—too late. the moment he stepped inside, he saw you sitting on the edge of the couch, arms folded tightly, face pale and blotchy, with dried tear tracks staining your cheeks.
you had been crying.
"you’re home," you said flatly, your voice raw like you’d been screaming into a pillow all night.
his heart sank. he’d spent the entire cab ride rehearsing what to say, but the words disintegrated in his throat. his voice came out hoarse. "yeah. i… uh, i lost track of time."
you laughed bitterly, the sound low and hollow, and reached for your phone. you slid it across the coffee table, the motion sharp, deliberate. the screen was lit, an image burned into it—a picture of him kissing someone at the bar.
someone who wasn’t you.
his breath caught. his fingers trembled as he picked up the phone, staring at the evidence of his betrayal. the rush of blood to his ears drowned out everything else.
"you weren’t even going to tell me, were you?" your voice cracked, anger bubbling just below the surface of your words.
"i—" his voice faltered. "i didn’t mean for it to happen. i was drunk, and—"
"don’t." the single word stopped him cold. you stood abruptly, wrapping your arms around yourself like you were holding yourself together with sheer will. your eyes shimmered, fresh tears threatening to spill, but you blinked them back, your voice sharper this time. "don’t insult me by blaming it on the alcohol."
his chest tightened, the weight of his mistake pressing harder with every word you spoke. "it was a mistake. i swear, it didn’t mean anything. i—"
"you don’t get to decide what it means, seungcheol." your voice broke, and this time, a sob slipped out. you pressed a hand to your mouth, as if you could stop it, but it was too late. the tears were falling again, streaming down your face even as you tried to stand tall. "you don’t get to brush it off like it’s something small, like it’s something i’m supposed to forgive just because you feel guilty now."
he moved closer, his hands trembling as he reached for you, desperate to bridge the chasm he’d created. "please, it was a moment of weakness. i love you—"
"love?" you let out a strangled laugh, the sound choked by tears. you wiped at your face with shaky hands but didn’t bother to hide how much you were breaking. "is this what love looks like to you? leaving me here all night, wondering if you were safe, only to find out you were with someone else?"
his knees felt weak. he sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. "i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you. i don’t even know why I—"
"stop." you cut him off sharply, your voice steadier now, though the tears kept falling. "don’t sit there and act like you don’t know why. you knew exactly what you were doing. you just didn’t care enough about me to stop yourself."
his own tears started to spill, hot and heavy, but he didn’t wipe them away. "it was a mistake," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. "it didn’t mean anything."
"it meant enough for you to do it," you shot back, your tone trembling but firm.
you bent down to pick up your bag from the floor, your movements slow, like every step you took was crushing you.
"wait," he blurted, panic lacing his voice. "where are you going? we can fix this. we can—"
"we?" you turned to face him one last time, your tear-streaked face filled with heartbreak and resolve. "there is no ‘we’ anymore, seungcheol. you destroyed that the moment you kissed her, the moment you decided i wasn’t enough."
his throat tightened as he tried to hold back his own sobs. "i’ll do anything. just… don’t leave. please."
you shook your head, the weight of the tears on your lashes making them shimmer in the dull morning light. "i hope she was worth it," you said quietly, your voice trembling as your lips quivered. "i really do."
he could only watch as you walked out the door, the sound of it closing behind you echoing in the empty apartment.
he stayed on the couch, staring at the spot where you’d stood moments ago, his tears falling freely now. the silence was suffocating, filled with the weight of everything he’d lost. he buried his face in his hands again, but this time, there was no one left to comfort him.
and he knew he deserved it.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#svt#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt angst#seungcheol x reader#seventeen angst#seungcheol seventeen#seventeen seungcheol#scoups seventeen#seventeen scoups#seungcheol fluff#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#scoups imagine#seungcheol imagine#scoups fanfic#seungcheol fanfic#scoups#seungcheol#choi seungcheol#daisymbin: reqs
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Max doesn't see Charles until he's two beers and almost two gin and tonic's in. He's seen most other drivers, at least in passing and he'd asked (GP, because he understands Max is a little...insane about Charles) about him, but GP had been a bit cryptic and told him that Charles lost his mind a little on the radio.
Which had confused Max for a second. What happened? Max hadn't done anything, right?
He hadn't put up much of a fight, not like he normally would. He wasn't racing Charles today (soon, his mind supplies, soon). He just needed to be ahead of Lando, no risks.
He'd done that. He'd been good.
So what had Charles done?
'Charles!' It doesn't matter anyways. Charles looks up from the floor. He's got a guy in a Ferrari jacket with him that Max doesn't immediately recognize.
When Charles spots Max, he smiles. He hadn't been smiling before. 'Max, congratulations.'
A few of the guys are trying to guide Max to a car and Martijn is blowing up his phone, but Max pulls away and approaches him. The man in the Ferrari jacket looks unamused, but Max is the World Champion, what is he going to do?
'Thanks mate.' Max says.
To his surprise, Charles steps into his space and gives him a short, but firm hug. 'You absolutely deserve it. You have been outstanding this year.'
Max feels his cheeks flush. 'Thanks. Are you coming out?'
Charles makes a face and looks over his shoulder at the Ferrari employee. 'I have a very unpleasant debrief to go to.'
'After, then. Come join us. Let loose.' Max says, pleads. 'I'll text you the address.'
Another glance over his shoulder, but Charles smiles at him. 'If I'm allowed, I'll come.'
Max grins at him and, like an idiot, gives him a thumbs up. 'Awesome.'
Charles looks very amused by him, but his smile fades. 'Alright, bye now Max. Enjoy your celebrations.'
Charles' chin dips back down as he turns to leave. Max doesn't know what he's done, or what this is all about, but he knows Charles shouldn't look like that.
'Hey,' Max calls and Charles stops and looks at him. 'keep your chin up, yeah?'
Charles seems to straighten up almost on autopilot. He lifts his chin and then smiles gently.
'Thank you, Max.'
He's not sure what for but he'll take it. 'Yeah, of course. Hey and, whatever you've done, I'm sure I've done worse and look at me.' He grins, motioning at the World Champion hat he's got on.
Charles' eyes dart up to it and Max swears he can see a flash of steel, a sharp edge of determination in those green eyes.
But then the calls of his name get louder and his phone starts ringing, Martijn no doubt, and Charles is waving at him and walking away.
Max might be imagining it, but he swears Charles is standing taller now.
#lestappen#lestappen drabble#lestappen one shot#lestappen fanfic#woops yep this has been in my head since las vegas 😬#las vegas gp 2024
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Staying Awake with You
-> Pairing: Song Mingi x Y/n
-> Summary: On a sleepless night, Y/n finds herself sharing a quiet, intimate moment with Mingi, who shows up unannounced and in need of comfort. Y/n reminds Mingi that he won’t ever be a burden and that she’ll always be there for him—no matter the hour.
-> Word count: 1251
The soft hum of the overhead fan filled the quiet living room. The warm glow of fairy lights draped across the wall above the television gave the space a cozy vibe. Y/n sat cross-legged on the sofa with a steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands. She had always loved this time of the night—when the world seemed to calm down, the chaos of the day being left behind.
But tonight wasn’t like most nights. Tonight, Mingi was here.
He was sat on the floor in front of her, leaning against the sofa with a blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders like a cape. He somehow managed to make himself appear much smaller than he was as he huddled closer to the blanket’s warmth. The glow from the lights cast soft shadows across his face, highlighting the pout of his lips and the tiredness in his eyes.
“Y/n/n,” he murmured, tilting his head so he’d be able to look at her. “You should go to bed. It’s late.”
She chuckled softly, taking a sip of her tea. “You’re one to talk. Aren’t you the one who came over unannounced at midnight saying you couldn’t sleep?”
Mingi’s lips twitched into a sheepish smile. “Okay, that’s fair. But you shouldn’t have to stay up and lose sleep just because I’m restless.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, before placing her mug on the coffee table. “I want to stay up with you.”
His eyes widened slightly, and a soft blush could be seen creeping up his cheeks. “You don’t have to, you know? I’ll feel bad if you don’t get enough sleep and end up being tired tomorrow.”
Y/n reached down, gently tugging on the edge of his blanket. “Mingi, I’m doing this because I want to. Besides, it’s not every day I get to hang out with you like this. You’re always busy being an idol.”
The slight teasing tone in Y/n’s voice seemed to make him relax, and he gave her a lopsided grin before turning back to the television, where a random nature documentary was playing. The narrator’s voice filled the room as footage of small penguins waddling across an icy landscape appeared on the screen. Mingi pointed at a particularly clumsy baby penguin while laughing softly.
“Look at that one,” he said, voice warm and amused. “That’s me whenever our dance practices run late.”
Y/n burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the room. “You’re not that bad! If anything, you’re more like the penguin up front, the one leading the group.”
He looked up at her, his eyes sparkling with playful disbelief. “Do you mean to say I’m a natural-born leader?”
“Obviously,” she teased him again, nudging his shoulder with her foot. “The penguin king of the K-pop world.”
Mingi threw his head back, laughing in that unrestrained way that never failed to make her heart feel like it was wrapped in the warmest of hugs. His laugh was definitely one of her favourite things about him—it was loud, and it was contagious, and so uniquely Mingi.
As his laughter faded, Mingi leaned his head back against the couch, gazing up at her sweetly. His expression softened, the playfulness giving way to something quieter. “Thanks for putting up with me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Y/n frowned, leaning forward so she’d be able to meet his gaze more directly. “What are you on about?”
“Just…” He shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. “I’m aware, you know? That I can be a lot sometimes. Showing up at the weirdest hours, rambling about something random most of the time, always taking up your time when you probably have better things to do…” He trailed off, looking embarrassed.
Y/n’s heart squeezed at the vulnerability she heard in his voice. She reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Mingi, I don’t ‘put up’ with you. I enjoy spending time with you. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the day or the middle of the night, you’re always welcome here.”
He blinked up at her, lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something more but no words would come out. After a moment, he smiled—the softest, most genuine smile she’d ever seen from him and one that made her chest feel light.
“You’re too good to me, Y/n/n,” he said, his voice tinged with awe.
She shook her head, a grin tugging at her lips. “Nah, I think you might just have really bad taste in friends.”
Mingi laughed again, the tension in his shoulders easing bit by bit as he relaxed against the couch. “If that’s the case, then I’m glad I have terrible taste.”
The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, the documentary long forgotten as they simply basked in each other’s presence. Y/n reached for her mug again, the warmth seeping into her palms as she took a sip. Mingi, still sitting on the floor, leaned his head back, his eyes slowly fluttering shut.
For a moment, she thought he might have fallen asleep, but then she heard his soft and drowsy voice. “Y/n?”
“Hmm?” she hummed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the sofa’s armrest.
“Do you think the penguins ever feel lonely out there? On the ice.”
She cocked an eyebrow, caught off guard by his question. “I don’t know,” she replied thoughtfully. “But they’ve got their group, right? Their friends and family? They stick together, even when it’s cold and hard.”
Mingi nodded slowly, his eyes still closed. “I think that’s nice. Having people who’ll always stick with you, no matter what.”
Y/n smiled, reaching down to ruffle his hair gently. “You’ve got that too, you know. Your members, your fans…me.”
His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at her. There was something different in his gaze—something tender and unspoken. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know that.”
The warmth in his voice made Y/n’s heart skip a beat, and she quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the penguins on the documentary. But out of the corner of her eye, she could see the small, happy smile that lingered on his lips.
As the night wore on, Mingi eventually climbed up onto the couch, sprawling out like a giant cat and causing Y/n to laugh at how much space he took up, but she didn’t complain when he decided to rest his head on her lap, the blanket still comfortably wrapped around him.
“Are you comfy?” she asked, her tone lightly teasing.
“Very,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric of her pyjama trousers. “Don’t move. You’re a good pillow.”
Y/n simply rolled her eyes not really protesting, her hand instinctively coming down to run through his hair. The strands soft beneath her fingers, and she could feel him relax even more against her.
The documentary eventually came to an end, the television screen going dark except for the faint glow of the paused menu. Y/n glanced down at Mingi, only to realise that his breathing had evened out, his face peaceful as he finally managed to drift off to sleep.
She smiled to herself, leaning her head back against the couch. “Don’t be silly, Mingi,” she whispered, echoing her words from their earlier conversation. “I’ll always stay up with you.”
And as the first light of dawn began to creep through the living room’s curtains, Y/n closed her eyes, the warmth of Mingi’s comforting presence lulling her into a peaceful sleep.
All Rights Reserved © yoonjoongles // do not copy or modify my work in any way.
#ateez fluff#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez mingi#song mingi#mingi fluff#mingi x reader#mingi#mingi scenarios#mingi imagines#song mingi fluff#song mingi x reader#song mingi ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#soft mingi#ateez masterlist#mingi masterlist#song mingi masterlist#song mingi fic#song mingi fanfic#mingi fic#mingi fanfic
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