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maxivstappen · 5 months ago

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THE GREATEST

[ part two / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ being in a relationship with a formula 1 driver like lando was hard, but not impossible. right? a story based on THE GREATEST by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst, swearing. i’ll write a part 2 if requested 𝄞 4.4k words

❝ I’m trying my best to keep you satisfied ❞

Loving a formula 1 driver, let alone being in a relationship with one, wasn’t easy. But that didn’t stop you. In fact, you were sure nothing was ever going to be able to get in between the love that Lando and you shared, the kisses and the late night cuddles, the fun family dinners and the celebrations of his milestones. Everything was so perfect.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard to meet his standards, sometimes having you leave your own family to go attend races with him, or the blatant flirting he would still be partaking in at after-race parties, it was definitely a flaw of your relationship, but maybe you should’ve just worn something prettier or done your makeup in a different way, in the end it’s your fault if his attention wasn’t keen on you, right?

But no matter what, you were ready to do it for him. He’s your main priority, just as he should be. That’s what makes a relationship a functioning one, doesn’t it?

❝ Let you get your rest while I stayed up all night ❞

Of course you weren’t always his main priority, but who were you to judge him? He’s a professional racing driver, it’s not only a job but a complete career, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world. Having a world championship under his belt, that was more important than you. You just have to live like that, someone had to put in the work for the relationship. And because it definitely wasn’t Lando, it was you. But you didn’t mind, you’d do it all over again for him. Because you truly loved him, and to you, there was nothing in this world stronger than love.

So when you both finally get home after a long race weekend, you don’t mind doing the cooking and cleaning and laundry for him. You also don’t mind him going to sleep while you’re up packing up luggage for him and you to depart for the next GP. You would’ve appreciated some skin contact after such a busy and nerve wrecking weekend, but if he needed rest, then he should have it. You could rest another time, maybe during the flight or while he was spending time with his friends. You weren’t sure why, but Lando always insisted on not having you with him, always making up excuses why you couldn’t come even if in reality, you were at “home” trying to get used to the new place you’d have to stay at for the next week. Maybe you would’ve preferred being with him, or having him with you, or being in your home country with your loved ones he was yet to meet, but that’s okay. He had his fun with his friends and their girlfriends, that’s what mattered.

Maybe he didn’t want you there because, while he dated a girl he’s known since forever, a girl who knew him before his win and his fame and his career, all the others were dating models and successful women. Maybe you embarrassed him a little bit, so you were understanding when he told you to stay at home. His fans didn’t exactly love you either, so actually, it was really thoughtful of him not to have you by his side when he went out, because then his fan base and the news wouldn’t be able to pick at every little flaw you had, which you had surprisingly lots of, as the media told you.

The clock read 5am when you finally finished packing up the luggage and went to bed yourself. Well, not the bed but rather the couch, because Lando had just previously told you not to wake him if he was already asleep, and who were you to rip him out of his peaceful slumber when he had so much pressure on him the last three days? It was a little cold, but that’s okay. It was just kinda difficult to fall asleep on the small, hard, uncomfortable couch.

The clock read 8am when you woke up to prepare breakfast for him and you.

❝ And you don’t wanna know how alone I’ve been ❞

You knew better than to complain. Of course you felt a little bit alone in the huge apartments while he was away, spending time at the track or in the gym with his friends. How could you not? You were in a country you’ve never been in before, a country with no familiar faces or friends or people you could talk to besides the McLaren team and well, your boyfriend. But in the end, Lando showed you the world. And you had to be grateful for that. Even if he basically just pushed you around the world and then picked you up again when it was time to travel farther. And god, how you missed your family. And how deeply you wanted them to meet your one and only love, Lando. It was sickening, the need to be at home again.

One time after a long day of qualifying, you told Lando about your homesickness and that you felt a bit alone on this journey.

He got mad and told you if you wanted, you could just leave. He’s not keeping you here. 20 minutes after, you were stood in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. Your response to “Are you actually fucking crying right now?” was a quiet “I was just cutting onions.”

His reply to “I thought we were eating together, I made dinner” was “I’m going out to eat with Charles and his girlfriend.”

You felt your heart break in that second, but he was just mad and not thinking straight. Outbursts are okay sometimes.

❝ Let you come and go, whatever state I’m in ❞

You spent the whole evening and night crying, putting his food in the fridge in case he was hungry later. The tears didn’t stop until he came back through the door, obviously a bit tipsy. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and told you how sorry he was, telling you that next time, he would take you with him to dinner. You knew it wasn’t true, and he knew as well.

At least you felt his touch again, his arms around you and his rough fingers caressing your cheek. That was worth the tears and the unappreciated cooking.

❝ Man am I the greatest? My congratulations ❞

Miami GP ‘24. Lando’s first win in his Formula 1 career. You were the proudest girlfriend in the world and you couldn’t wait to celebrate his win with him tomorrow, knowing he’d be busy partying with the others today. You’re in Miami, after all. And he has just won. Of course he had to celebrate that with his boys, surrounded by beautiful women and loads of alcohol. He would never cheat on you, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind being in the presence of some women who were gifted with a prettier face and body than you were. That’s okay, at least he doesn’t use you for your looks.

As he stood there on the highest step of the podium, smiling like a little kid who had just fulfilled his dreams, smiling like he once had smiled at you, it made you so incredibly happy and emotional and you couldn’t wait to finally see him and give him a big celebration kiss.

Once he was back in the paddock he told you to wait until the cameras were gone. You didn’t get a hug either. Not until you were back in the apartment.

At last. you got your hug and a kiss. As a goodbye before he left with Max.

❝ All my love and patience, all my admiration ❞

The day after, you woke up at 7, waiting for him to wake up while you were already up in the kitchen, baking a small cake with a “one” on it, all decorated in orange.

Even if you were left unsatisfied yesterday, that didn’t stop you from still feeling eternally proud of him, and proud to be able to call yourself his girlfriend. He was so dedicated to the things he loved, it was a pleasure to watch him go through life with his determination. Racing was his passion, there’s no shame in sometimes forgetting your girlfriend for it.

He finally entered the kitchen at 12, smiling at the small cake placed upon the dining table. “Surprise!” You said, and he immediately went to hug and kiss you, smiling just as brightly as he did on that podium. Moments like these were a reminder that he did in fact love you, and once again, that it’s all worth it.

❝ All the times I waited for you to want me naked ❞

You often wondered how the others managed to keep up their relationships.

Just recently you were having lunch with the other WAGs at a restaurant near the circuit. Originally, you didn’t want to come, still feeling insecure about what the media has to say about you, the ugly duckling around the most beautiful women in F1 history. However, they insisted. At the table the girls began talking about the party after Lando’s win, and how proud you must’ve been to see him on that podium. You loved talking about it, until you were asked why you didn’t come with him to the party. A lame excuse of “I was just tired and not feeling well” made the others look at you weirdly. How could she be so selfish and miss her boyfriend’s afterparty for that? Alex, Charles’ girlfriend smiled at you with a knowing look, but you pretended not to notice, feeling embarrassed.

The next topic at the table was rather intimate, and you wanted to puke right then and there. Were you really the only one who hasn’t been touched in so long, because there just wasn’t enough time between all the travelling and racing and exhaustion? Or were you just not good enough? Was it really your looks? Should you change?

You missed it dearly, the intimate times with Lando. The ones where he finally took care of you instead of the other way around, the ones where you could feel the connection between you two with all your senses. Was it your fault that these times stopped? Lando was so perfect, it just couldn’t be his fault.

Maybe you just had to wait until he wanted you again.

❝ Made it all look painless, man, am I the greatest? ❞

You didn’t show your feelings often, not your real ones. The times he had catched you crying for him on you knees were pathetic little situations he shouldn’t have seen you in. When asked, you denied. “Do you feel lonely in this relationship?” — “No.” “Does he make you cry often?” — “No.” “Do you think your relationship is slowly breaking apart?” — “No.”

Talking about it with the women around the paddocks or when you’d facetime your friends from home, you never once said anything bad about Lando. Never once complained about how he treated you or how he ignored your feelings and your endeavors. Not even your closest friends knew what was really going on, or maybe, you just didn’t know that yourself. In your mind, this was just a phase where his career just made it impossible for him to focus on you. Someday this would change. Sooner or later, it would change.

For everyone else, you had the greatest, perfect, flawless relationship. And you didn’t mind keeping that imagine up. For his sake.

❝ Doing what’s right without a reward ❞

And so it kept going. You making efforts, him abandoning you. No matter what you did for him, no matter how much heart and love you put in for him, it was left unappreciated. But that‘s okay, still. You were in a relationship, your only task was to love him, and you did. Because that‘s the right thing to do in a relationship, and for him, you‘d do anything. No matter if he appreciated it or not at the moment, you knew that, eventually, he would.

❝ And we don‘t have to fight when it‘s not worth fighting for ❞

At least you hoped that he would change someday, so far he obviously hadn’t, and it was slowly getting to you in a more serious manner. In a way that might worry you and the people around you, in a way you wouldn‘t forget. That one time you prepared dinner for the both of you and he went out with Charles and Alex instead, it was all forgotten in a matter of seconds when he apologized. But now every single interaction he had with other women haunted you, asleep or awake. No apology would help you actually think he would change his current treatment towards you, and as it seemed, he didn‘t care either.

There was no point in fighting anymore, no point in telling him how you feel whenever he walks out the door, leaving you alone with nothing but your awful thoughts. For fuck‘s sake, you left all you had behind to be there for him, and how does he show his gratefulness? He doesn’t, because he isn’t fucking grateful, and he couldn’t care less about you and your dumb feelings. He doesn’t care that you want nothing more than to finally be able to introduce him to your family, he doesn’t care that you gave up your own career for his, and he doesn’t care that while he’s treating you the way he is, all the people who knew the both of you and basically the whole internet was only picking you apart. Never him.

Oh you were such a shitty girlfriend refusing to kiss him in front of the cameras after his first win, but wasn’t he the one who pushed you away? And how could you miss the party that night, the party dedicated to your oh soo perfect boyfriend? Do you not care about him enough? Were you not proud? So many girls would trade their life for a day in your shoes, and you just didn’t appreciate that? What a disappointment you are to the WAGs, and what a disappointment you must be to Lando.

“Lando please, listen to me,” — “No, I’m done with your insufferable complaining all the time. I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now, if you wanna leave, leave.”

❝ And you don’t wanna know what I would’ve done, anything at all, worse than anyone ❞

You would’ve walked through fire for him to love you again. For everything to go back like it once was. When he would brag about you to his friends and even in interview, when he took you to hang out with his friends and to parties, always keeping an arm around your shoulders so other guys wouldn’t even dare to look at you, when he was so eager to fulfill not only his, but also your dreams, wether that be a simple one, like him meeting your parents in your childhood home, or the greater ones, like becoming not only a good, but a great graphic designer. When he would watch you draw and perfect yet the smallest details with nothing but the growing admiration for you visible in his eyes. When he would kiss you good night and good morning, when he would ask about your day and passionately tell you about his. Back to when he had loved you. But now it was too late. All the things you had done for him, all the things you would probably still do, in the end, were for nothing more than a broken heart.

The sleepless nights. The nerve wrecking days. The painful parting from your family and friends. The abandonment of the life with him you had so desperately wished for.

It was all for nothing.

❝ I loved you, and I still do. Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you ❞

Last day before the summer break, the last race. And probably, the last day of him and you.

You were done with his shit, the sad look on your face visible to everyone in the room as you sat and watched the race from the McLaren hospitality, his parents seated next to you. Something felt very off, your usual happy and optimistic demeanor completely washed off, replaced by a dark, almost expressionless look. They sensed that something might have happened between Lando and you, but nobody dared to ask, too busy watching the intense race.

The outcome was disappointing, Lando finishing behind Max, the one he’d have to beat to win the championship. The team and the people inside the paddock and the hospitality clapped for him and Oscar anyway, with Oscar finishing second and Lando fifth. You cheered and smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You knew what was to come once you’d be back in the hotel. You were scared, sure it would be the most painful thing you’d ever have to do, putting all the things you’d done for him, all the things he’d done to you, in its shadow.

The celebration went well, again, no hug or kiss for you. You were sure his mother had even scolded him for it, but that wasn’t important anymore. You didn’t really care anyway, the media would run their mouths about you anyway, and Lando surely doesn’t give a shit either way. You desperately needed an answer, you wanted him to explain it to you. What had suddenly happen, what did you do wrong, for him to suddenly act like this? And if he fell out of love, then why couldn’t he just tell you?

Meanwhile Lando was busy celebrating Oscar‘s podium, taking pictures for the McLaren instagram account and whatnot, then doing the post race interviews.

He loved you, he really did. But he just didn’t see you as someone he wanted to spend this life with. He couldn’t imagine living his private life without you by his side, he wanted you to come with him to visit his family at home, to come with him when he would meet up with Max and the others during summer break or really, he wanted to just do nothing with you, nothing but share small kisses and cuddling on his couch at home, eating some homemade food and drinking a glass of wine together. At the same time, he thought that you didn’t fit in. Not in this life.

You met when he wasn’t yet the person he is now. When he was still passionate about so many other things other than just racing. Of course this had always been a part of him, but so were you. And now its just racing that occupied his mind, no single corner in his head left for his girlfriend. He knew it hurt you, but at the same time, part of what the media had to say about you was true. The first season he had spent with you by his side, the internet was already raging about how you weren‘t the typical WAG, and how they thought seeing you next to someone like a Kelly Piquet, you did seem a little weird. Lando didn’t want to be confronted with these opinions anymore, so instead of standing up for you, he decided to ‘hide‘ you. To not put you in the center of attention after a race to hug and kiss you, to just let you stand there and wait until you were inside where no one could see you. He also avoided reading anything the internet had to say about you, so the fact that his plan had only made you gain more and more hate, went unnoticed. Just like your complaints when he didn’t want to be seen with you after races at parties or even in a restaurant for dinner with Charles and Alexandra. Of course they had invited the both of you, and not only him. Lando came up with an excuse so he the paparazzi wouldn’t see you. The rumor that Lando and you have broken up after he was seen at dinner alone didn‘t seem to bother him either, but it did you. He thought you liked it this way, as he thought, without any hate comments about your looks or the way you’d dress compared to the others. He thought you appreciated not having to dress up for parties or the countless hangouts with his friends. He thought you cried that night after he was out for dinner because you cooked for him and he just went out, not that you cried because you felt not good enough for him to want you to come with him.

He really was stupid enough to think you were happy with all of this.

And while he was happy to be able to finally spend his summer break with you and only you, it all came crashing down when you were back in your shared apartment. Tears were forming in his eyes while yours were already streaming down your face as you yelled at him, telling him every yet so small detail that left your heart crushed and broken while he was busy „hiding you“, or as he explained it to you, „protecting you.“ this wasn’t protection, this was blatant ignorance. And finally in this relationship, you did something for yourself. You left.

Maybe it was miscommunication, or him refusing to communicate at all. But that didn‘t matter now, ‘cause now, it was over. No more kisses, no more cuddles and no more meeting friends or families. But most importantly, no more crying, no more sleepless nights, no more unappreciated support, no more hiding.

❝ I waited and waited ❞

Finally at home, your family had expected to see you with Lando by your side, and they were so very excited to finally be able to meet the guy their lovely daughter was head over heels for, using every chance she had to gush over him and how unbelievably proud she was of him. So when you stood there with puffy eyes and all your luggage placed next to you, they knew the tears you cried weren’t happy tears from finally behind home again. They were tears from saying goodbye to the life you were ready to spend with your boyfriend, who was now on the other side of the world.

You knew it was stupid, but you couldn‘t help waiting for him to reach out to you again. A call or a message, hell, you hoped he was as miserable without you as you were without him so that maybe Max or even Oscar had to contact you again. Despite all the times he had hurt you, you missed him so dearly.

But after months and months of waiting, you decided that there was no use in waiting. It’s over, and its for the better, it has to be.

It was gonna be hard seeing him again, once the summer break is over. Even if the love between Lando and you ended, your love for Formula 1 didn’t, and you weren’t about to give that up just for the sake of not having to see him. You‘d be in the stands or in front of the TV, he‘d be in his car or in front of the camera. No point in worrying. But still, the first few races, you watched curled up next to your best friend and your parents from home. It was so nice to finally be able to see everyone again, everyone you had to miss all these months you were away. Your dad and you used to always watch races together, and you were more than grateful to finally be able to do exactly that again.

❝ Man am I the greatest? God, I hate it, all my love and patience – Unappreciated. You said your heart was jaded, you couldn’t even break it, I shouldn’t have to say it … ❞

His instagram and twitter definitely make it seem like your broken heart doesn’t match his perfectly fine one. He seemed happier than ever, having fun with his friends at parties and driving around different towns with different girls. Seeing him was draining, but how were you supposed to never hear about him again when the entire internet was screaming his name? You wanted your life to finally feel easier now, but it seemed to only get harder.

You felt you lost your soulmate, while he only lost his greatest burden.

It wasn’t until you watched the first race after the summer break with your dad that it all came flooding back to you. Lando crossed the finish line first, and as the camera switched to show him get out of his car and rip off his helmet to kiss his new girlfriend that looked weirdly similar to you, surrounded by loud cheers, clapping and ecstatic, smiling faces, you realize that maybe, he really didn’t love you. And that he didn’t *want* to kiss you after his races, because it seems that if he had wanted to, he would’ve.

At the same time, even while standing on the highest step of that podium, Lando couldn‘t help but think about you, how stupid he was to treat you like a piece of shit when all you wanted was to be there for him after races like this one and most importantly, why the hell no girl he‘s been with after your breakup felt even remotely close to you. You were the greatest thing he‘d ever had, no trophy, no price would ever compare, and he managed to take it all for granted.

If he had just put in a little more effort, really, you could’ve been the greatest .

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no-144444 · 14 days ago

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whiplash- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.

pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!

(HOLY SHIT THEY WON THE CONSTRUCTORS!!!!!!!)

(dw i have many fics planned for the end of season stuff, so be prepared for them to come out in the next week or so!)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Recovery after the crash was pretty straight forward, no bright lights, too much screen time, or loud noise for 2 weeks, and thankfully, you had a month off.

Only problem? Someone had to take care of you for those two weeks, and that someone was Oscar Piastri.

And what a roommate he was. He unloaded your things from the car as you unlocked the door to your house, letting him in, and he didn’t let you carry a thing. He sent you straight to bed while he made some sort of bland, diet-approved dinner for the two of you and brought it up to you with very little speaking. You enjoyed it though, listening to some random youtube video at a very low volume, and then you just slept, despite the pounding headache you had.

Oscar stayed downstairs, looking around the place. You had a lot of books, which he realised made a lot of sense. You were often reading on race weekends. You had a lot of artwork as well, mostly from what he assumed to be local artists in Monaco, and some from your home country. He walked through room after room, finding more about you as he went on. You liked a specific band, you collected records, you liked stationary (you had a lot of extras in your office), you had two of the same pairs of sunglasses (he assumed it was because you often lost them), you had very few pictures of yourself with friends, but many of just your friends, you had nothing to do with racing anywhere in your home. The only room that had anything remotely racing related was your simulator room, which just had your sim and some team merch you’d been given. He wondered where you kept all of your suits and helmets from other years, where you kept the trophies.

“You’re snooping,” you said from behind him. He jumped, turning to you. The whole house felt so suffocatingly you. You were around each corner, things that reminded him of you were everywhere. It wasn’t easy, like in the garage. He was out of his comfort zone , out of his routine. His plan had been to go home for the break, but now he was taking care of the pretty girl he spoke to over the radio. The bottom line was that he was scared. He was scared he wouldn’t get over the crush, he was scared you’d reject him, and he was scared of his feelings being too obvious and scaring you away. He couldn’t let his months of hard work go to waste over something as silly as his feelings, and he wasn’t going to leave you high and dry without support, half way through the season with a team who didn’t like you. You did look quite cute though, even in the dim light (he’d gone around and closed all of the curtains in the house, only allowing a small amount of light in), tired and groggy, but pretty all the same.

“Just trying to find my bearings,” he smiled. “Did you sleep?”

You nodded. “I’ll show you the guest room,” you said, leaving the doorway and walking away. He followed behind. The conversation didn’t flow as easily as it had before. Oscar felt… surrounded. By you. And he wasn’t sure he was totally upset by it. Everything in this house was you. It made sense, it was your house. He just wasn't… used to it. He followed behind you, staring at the ground as you both walked up the stairs.

“You don’t keep any racing stuff in the house,” he stated.

You shrugged. “Why should I?”

“It’s your passion?” he suggested.

You just stayed silent. “This is your room. There’s a bathroom connected, so if you need anything, just tell me. You have free reign of the house, just obviously not my bedroom… so yeah.”

He nodded. “Thank you, do you need anything for your head?”

You shook your head. “Sleep.”

He nodded. “Text me if you need anything-”

“No screens,” you reminded him. He frowned.

You couldn’t shout, and neither could he, neither of you could text, but you had to communicate somehow. He had an idea. “I have an idea,” he said.

You stared at him expectantly.

“Walkie talkies.”

And you laughed. You genuinely, unashamedly, fully, laughed. And it was a sound he would do anything to hear again. The tension broke. The house didn’t feel as suffocating as it once had, and it felt as easy as being in the garage. He felt himself smile, smiling at you. He liked seeing you smile, the kind of smile that showed your teeth, that made your nose scrunch, that made him see the small glimpse of you.

Not the racer, not the fighter, not the victor. You.

“That works,” you nodded, the smile still on your lips. You looked down for a moment. “Thank you for taking care of me, Oscar. It means a lot. No one’s ever… done this for me.”

He frowned despite himself and cursed himself when he saw that you noticed. “I’m happy to be here. I’m happy that I get to make sure you’re ok.”

You offered him a sad smile, and left him to ‘find his bearings’ in his room. He huffed as he sat on the bed, looking around the room. There was a vanity with a mirror (we wouldn’t use it, but maybe he'd put the sunscreen his sister had been bugging him to use there, just to see if he’d remember to use it in the mornings), aa bed (a king bed, which he was very happy with), bedside tables with some random lights, a wardrobe, a mirror, white walls, hardwood floors, and a big window seat. He looked out into the garden, and it was green. Plants, fruits, vegetables, everything. So that was your hobby. Gardening.

He chuckled. You were full of surprises. He wanted to figure every last one of them out.

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The next few days went quickly, mostly you two were on different schedules. Oscar was working during the way (no rest for any McLaren employee, especially not when you were P2 in the standings), while you slept and stayed up during the night. You went into the garden, caring for your plants all night long, reheated leftovers from Oscar (he was a surprisingly good cook), and listened to podcasts and music (at a low volume).

That all changed when he found you in the garden at 2am, soft music playing as you collected plums from your trees, he smiled.

“Busy?” he called out. You shook your head, placing them in the basket. “I didn’t realise you were such a gardener.”

“It’s peaceful,” you admitted. “Slow.”

“A racecar driver likes going slowly?” he questioned. You rolled your eyes, sitting beside him on the bench.

“Not all of us are the same on and off track, alright?”

He chuckled. “Fine, you got me there,” he admitted, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “What else does F1 driver Y/n Y/l/n like to do?”

And the air shifted for some inexplicable reason. He was too close to you, too personal, too… something. You felt everything tenfold, every hair on the back of your neck standing to full attention. He didn’t mean to make it sound flirty, surely. You told yourself.

He wasn’t even sure of that himself.

“I like dancing,” you answered, your voice soft and small, softer than he’d ever heard you. “When I was a kid I was a dancer. I gave it up for racing, but I still enjoy it.”

He swore he was the one with whiplash. You were so hot and cold. One minute you were telling him about you childhood dreams, the next you were screaming at him over the radio to go fuck himself. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “What about you?”

“I like to spend time with my family,” he admitted. “But you know that.”

You smiled, a small, shy smile, but a smile all the same (aka, he counted it as a win). “They seem fun.”

“They are,” he nodded, smiling brightly. “They’re crazy but I love them.”

“When they come to a race, I’d like to meet them,” you expressed. He stared at you for a moment. He really took you in, sitting there with your legs up against your chest looking nothing like the strong racecar driver you’d made him think was your only personality. He thanked his lucky stars that he got to see you like this. Laid back, shy, reserved, perfect, you.

“I’d like that,” he smiled.

“Me too.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

He woke up one night (after 4 whole days of radio silence from the last night you’d spoken) to music playing in the living room. He silently crept downstairs as the smooth voices of Frank Sinatra and Nancy Sinatra filled his ears. There you stood, swaying in your living room in your pjs as you ate your food. Your hair was down, your eyes were closed, your body just swayed. You looked so… free. Sometimes, he forgot you were only 22 (only a year younger than him, but whatever). You didn’t have regular friends that you could just talk to, you had colleagues who worked for the same team as you. You had no family support, you were effectively alone.

But you had him, and he reminded himself of that as he sat on the last step, watching you truly let go.

“You should join me,” you said, eyes closed, but still noticing his presence. “Dancing is good for your health.”

“Is it now?” he smirked, getting up and joining you, despite the nerves in his stomach.

You nodded, wrapping an arm around his neck, your eyes still firmly closed. “It’s physical exercise.”

He nodded, placing his hands on your waist. He leaned as close as he could to your face, studying every detail he could. Every freckle, every crinkle of your eyes, every acne scar, all of it. And he thought you were perfect.

Your eyes opened, and you had a small smile on your lips, standing on his feet as he swayed you both. “You’re staring at me.”

“You’re worth staring at,” he admitted.

“Smooth,” you chuckled. Again, whiplash.

You laid your head against his chest, letting him take the lead for a few moments. “Oscar?”

He hummed.

“Thank you for being my friend. I’ve never had one of those before. It’s really nice.”

As much as your confession broke his heart, he was glad he could be your friend, even if he hoped he could be something more.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Zandvoort rolled around, and the garage was buzzing. You were catching Max, only 30 points between the two of you, as the title fight truly began. The RB20 was falling back, and you were only getting quicker. 5 wins under your belt. Monaco, Canada, Austria, UK, Hungary. You were a winner, and a podium anywhere else. Lando was only falling further behind, as the team shifted their focus to you. You got more attention, more praise, more weight on your shoulders. More people came to you, treated you with respect, acted differently.

It was a lot. You were overwhelmed.

But Oscar stayed the same. Always the voice of reason, the voice of calm in the storm that was F1. He was calm over the radio, celebrating with you when you crossed the line first.

You’d won on max’s home turf. That was truly something.

“You’ll go on the podium with me, right?”you asked as you crossed the line.

He smiled in the garage, blushing slightly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Something worth celebrating!” Zak cheered as he entered the garage.

You were soaked in champagne, but happy all the same. It had been a hard season, but you were trudging on and continuing, looking forward to the things on the horizon. You were the woman with the highest points scored, ever. You had multiple wins in a row. You were in the title fight. You were a rookie.

“Something to be proud of,” Oscar nudged your arm, smiling as he sat beside you in the debriefing room. You offered him a soft smile.

“Thanks Osc,” you answered, unaware of the way you’d made his heart beat far too fast for something as simple as a nickname.

“Stop eye-fucking each other,” Lando scoffed.

“Stop trying to fuck her races up, then come back to me,” Oscar shot back. Lando did have some sort of love for fucking up your races (cough cough Belgium cough cough).

Lando shut up.

It was nice to have someone in your corner.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

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ittybittyfanblog · 1 month ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 2

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a–less–oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. A/N: Ok, I’ve decided to make this by series, so this one’s just going to be purely Sylus. I hope nobody minds the specific names/places/etc. I wanted to create a personality for the “player” and add a bit of backstory work (loosely based on yours truly lol) for the sake of storytelling, but there won't be any distinct description of the player’s physical appearance <3 Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, bouts of delusion

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6

Riiiiing– RiiiNGGGGG––

“Huh… whazat—?”

A shrill—earsplitting, headache-inducing, completely fucking loud—noise wakes you up rather rudely from your peaceful slumber at… Jesus Christ, what time is it?

You blink your bleary eyes open, once… twice—fuck, all you know that it’s too goddamn early for all this ruckus. Groaning, you clumsily try to find the source of the unexpected wake-up call—quite literally in this case.

Your hand bumps the vibrating phone straight off the edge of the mattress – along with the charger cord still attached to it – and you cuss up a storm when you hear it clatter on the hardwood floor.

The ringing finally stops, and you’re perfectly content to just leave it there and fall back to sleep when, not even ten seconds later, the blasted thing rings back to life, taunting you awake.

Angrily, you wrestle against the threadbare blanket wrapped around your body like a warm cocoon, pushing yourself out of bed with all the rage of a sleep-deprived insomniac who’s been up til the buttcrack of dawn to grab your—huh, relatively intact—phone off the ground, while the charger cable swings haphazardly from the weight of the power brick on its tail end.

Without checking the caller, you swipe right to answer. “What?”

“Don’t use that tone on me, young lady,” Your mother grouses on the other end of the line. “It’s almost noon! Did you just wake up?”

Barely five hours of sleep. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shut your eyes and sigh. “No, mom. Sorry, just had a late night,” you clear your throat in an attempt to sound more composed. “What’s up?”

“Oh, dear. Is it because of work again?” Something akin to sympathy replaces the sternness in her voice, and you dread the all-too-familiar spiel that comes next. “You know, honey, there’s a job opening for a– what was it again? I have to double check, but it’s where your Auntie Helen works. You know your Auntie Helen—”

“Mom,” you interrupt, before she could go off on a tangent. “Work is fine, don’t worry. Why d’you call?”

“Should I need a reason to call my only daughter who's living by her lonesome, a country away from—”

“Mom!”

“Oh, alright,” she finally relents, sounding slightly exasperated. “Were you able to book me and Jodie the roundtrip flight to Orlando? Your cousin’s wedding is barely a month away and I want all the documents ready by now, sweetie.”

Shit. “Ah— yeah. I’ll email you the flight itinerary in a bit, I’m just–” you catch sight of your protruding hamper, innocuous but an eyesore nonetheless, right by the doorway of your humble studio unit. “I mean, I just left the condo. To do errands and stuff. I’ll send the details to you when I get back home, okay?”

“Okay, honey,” she sighs. “You stay safe outside now. Don’t talk to strangers.”

“I am a perfectly responsible adult—” The call disconnects. “Hello? Great.”

You rub away the remnants of sleep from your eyes, fully aware that your day’s already started, despite your reluctance. Might as well get a head start on today’s agenda.

First thing’s first– brunch. Oh, it’s almost one. Lunch, then. I could maybe grab a hotdog from the corner store before heading to Landers. Oh wait, your laundry– gotta pass by the laundromat downstairs, too. Ugh, c’mon, chop-chop.

Just as you’re about to stand up from your supine position on the floor, another ping! pulls your attention back to your phone.

“Mom, I swear–”

Ah, you’re finally awake. You’ve had a very long night, kitten. Take it easy for the day – make sure to get enough rest between errands.

I’ll know if you don’t.

Your heart skips a beat.

Oh! Um. That’s… new.

… Apparently another one on the growing list of “new features” from the latest update. It doesn't sound like an invitation for you to open the game, strangely enough. It's not a call to action to claim your daily stamina, nor a prompt for you to check your Galaxy Explorer rewards.

It’s nothing more than a greeting, really. Just one that’s particularly targeted at you, with unnerving accuracy.

You recall the weird (?) events from last night, and the now-erratic beating of your heart suddenly picks up a notch. From the unexpected dialogues to the outrageous amount of dias you’ve somehow ended up with—something you still think is some kind of glitch in the system—you can’t shake the feeling that you’re living out the plot of a Black Mirror episode, as fucking dumb as that sounds.

Not to mention during Quality Time, Sylus_v2.0 (as you so lovingly dub this version of him in your mind) had been acting more aware of you.

And you’re not talking about the pre-programmed glances that you usually get. No– it’s like he actually hears you.

He doesn’t say anything. But whenever you make a comment, or utter something under your breath, he reacts with a huff or a hum–depending on the context. If it’s a slew of expletives aimed at your boss, the reaction you’re met with is one of amusement. A snort; sometimes a quiet laugh, if you’re lucky. When you say something self-deprecating, however, it elicits the heavier sighs, the sharp clicks of the tongue.

At one point, you heard him make a low sound of dissent, something close to a... growl, almost, after making a casual joke about being just another cog in the machine and how offing yourself wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of late capitalism. As you oft do.

Your eyes met, and for a split second, it felt like you weren’t looking at just pixels. His gaze weighed heavy on you–almost accusatory.

It made you feel… naked, somehow. Perceived.

You recall how quickly you averted your eyes from his, face flushing hotly from a feeling you couldn’t put into words.

Bone-tired from last night’s (morning) overtime, you didn’t have the time to look up the news on this recent version update—although you really don’t remember any notifications in-game—so you quickly Google, “sylus acting sentient in rcent update loveamd Deepspace???” on your phone browser.

You scroll down for a bit, but none of the search results yield any relevancy, nor are they in any way similar to your current… predicament.

(Okay, so calling it a predicament is a little unfair. You’re not exactly complaining about anything per se. No complaints from you. At all.)

Deciding that you’d do a deeper dive on Twitter (X) at a later time instead – probably tonight when you do your daily login – you briefly press the side button to lock your phone… not without a final peek at the banner notification from Sylus.

You press your lips together in an effort to hold back the stupid giggle bubbling up your throat.

Unfortunately, all the self-control in the world can’t help you and your need to have the last word—girl, from what even—so you ask aloud, to no one except the person you've deluded yourself into thinking is a valid recipient of your one-sided conversation:

“... Yeah? And what if I don’t?”

You’re not really waiting for a response (or were you?), but the nervous flutter in your stomach betrays the impatience you're trying to mask with casual indifference. It’s small, unassuming–but there.

Impatient for what, exactly, you’re not sure. But maybe, just maybe—

Feeling a bit braver now, are we? How bold. Care to say that to my face, sweetheart?

Oh.

An inhuman noise escapes your throat, embarrassingly loud, almost a keen, and you fumble with the device in your hand; the new banner notification still in full view—taunting you.

You don’t know what to think, you don’t know how to feel. You–

Spring up, like an agitated jack-in-a-box, and the sudden rush of blood in your head leaves you dizzy. You’re a molotov cocktail of emotions; one more bombshell dropped on you and you might just blow.

“I’m– later, okay? Uh,” Whew, girl, keep it together. “I need–I need to go.” You almost stumble as you speed walk towards the bathroom.

If you didn’t switch your phone to silent, didn’t make the conscious effort to ignore any incoming messages, notifications, and whatever else, in a rush to get dressed and go about your day as if it's just like any other weekend–nope, nothing unusual here–you would’ve seen one last cheeky reply:

Of course, sweetie. You take care now.

Don’t talk to strangers. X

Endnote: This one's pretty short, but I’m world-building, trust.

Thanks for reading!

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #sylus qin

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ceilidho · 6 months ago

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 15)

first chapter >> last chapter

Sleep eludes you. You toss and turn that first night, not used to sleeping on your own. Every sound makes you jump. When the sky goes black and the bushes rustle with the breeze, you have to double check the locks on the doors no less than three times, fastening it with the wooden bolt just to be safe.

Without John around, the world is twice as loud; crickets chirp raucous melodies, buzzing so loud that sometimes you swear there must be one on the pillow right beside your head, and, in the distance, an owl hoots at an interval so irregular that each screech tugs you back from the brink of sleep. The house groans as it settles into itself; the first time you hear it, you spring upright in bed, heartbeat erratic, certain that it’s the sound of someone coming up the porch steps.

You collapse back onto the mattress with a huff when you finally recognize the sound for what it is.

You don’t sleep well that night. Dawn finds you awake before its arrival. The songbirds keep you from drifting off back to sleep when the first wispy rays of sunlight creep over the horizon, and you lie in bed until the possibility of sleep is well behind you. That makes you huff, bitter over the loss.

Again, the day is slow to come over you. It seems almost reluctant to really get going, the sunlight clear and the air brisk but the day itself slow moving. An early morning chill forces you to don heavier garments than usual.

After breakfast, you take Buttercup into the paddock to run around, watching her from the edge of the pen, humming to yourself under your breath.

Most of the morning is spent cleaning and doing chores around the house. You muck the stables, feed the horses, scrub the dirty laundry on the washboard before hanging it up on the line, weed the garden, and promise yourself that next week you’ll work up the energy to boil linseed oil to polish and oil the furniture. As it is, you stagger into the kitchen around midday for lunch, sticky with sweat.

Kate comes up the path on horseback not too long after that, a large swooped hat perched precariously on her head. She has to hold it in place by the brim to keep it from flying off. You watch her from the window at first, drying your hands from the quick wash you gave them after finishing your lunch.

“I ought to start making new friends,” you quip when she takes a seat next to you on the porch swing.

“Sick of my company already?” she laughs.

“Well, a girl’s gotta have options.”

She snorts at that, tipping her hat lower on her head to shade her eyes from the sun. It has the effect of cutting a wide shadow across her face, leaving only a swath of white teeth exposed.

Her beauty has always come as an afterthought. Tanned, freckled skin, and hair like golden wheat. But you look now and you see something different than the woman you’re used to seeing, and it dawns on you that what you’re seeing now is a version of Kate divorced from the idea of her that you’d always had in your head. Almost fuller; more robust.

You tear your eyes away only when she catches you staring and cocks an eyebrow.

She coaxes you into saddling Buttercup up and accompanying her on a trail ride. Part of you resists initially, still wounded from your last ride, and when Kate presses you for more information, you reluctantly divulge, recounting the events from the weeks prior with a tremble in your voice. She nods only once while you speak, keeping her comments to herself. That she must have already known doesn’t surprise you; she’d insinuated as much only the other week.

You’d be wise to not keep secrets from Kate in the future, you realize. Best to keep someone as omniscient as her on your side.

After some encouragement, she talks you into a leisurely stroll and even helps you dress Buttercup in the stables. The dizzying spell of apprehension settles over you like a heavy fog up until you blink and realize that the two of you have been riding beside each other in silence for the better part of a half mile.

The fear doesn’t entirely evaporate, however. Any sudden dip in the terrain or unexpected noise from Buttercup makes you start. You take several breaks to breathe and walk around. At the top of a hill, you ask Kate in a voice verging on shrill if you can take a break and dismount before she’s even answered you.

“She can sense if you’re on edge,” Kate reminds you, nodding to where Buttercup grazes in a nearby patch of grass.

“Well, I can’t help that much. I am on edge.”

She tips her head back to look at the sky and sighs before looking back at you. “Sit down for a bit then. It’s not a race.”

And you do, for a spell. You sit and rest with your back against the trunk of a tree that branches high above you, the canopy blotting out any sunlight save for the tendril thin strands that sink through like stones in water.

You’re striking a delicate balance between the needs of the flesh and the needs of the soul. What the soul wants is to push itself beyond the boundaries that formerly enclosed it; after a lifetime of servitude and desires suppressed, even a simple trail ride feels momentous. What the flesh wants, however, is to shade in the shade until the urge to retch wears off.

The walk takes the two of you by a farm with a large, fenced-in enclosure. A couple houses sit around the enclosure. The smell of the livestock is pungent at first and your nose wrinkles as you approach the farm, but you adjust after a time.

Recent weeks so far from home have spoiled you; back in the city, the pungent stench of waste and manure was commonplace, the sour cloak of tobacco stinking up the alehouses and alleyways as much as the parlors and lounges. You’d adjusted to it back then as well.

The grazing cows rumble and low behind the fence. It’s a pleasant bucolic scene, one lifted straight from a painting that you swear you’ve seen before, though the artist’s name escapes you.

Looking out into antediluvian pastures sets your heart at ease. When the farmer wanders out of the barn to greet the two of you, the two of you join him and his wife for coffee in the big house.

For a brief period of time, it’s like stepping out of your body; there’s no impetus to get a move on, and inertia doesn’t set in like a rolling fog leaving you stranded in no man’s land. Nothing like the late evenings lying in bed in your aunt and uncle’s apartment, staring up at the pockmarked ceiling and praying for something to change.

You, simply, have a coffee.

After bidding them farewell, the bulk of the afternoon is spent at Kate’s house, a tiny plot of land just outside of town surrounded by fields of ochre prairie grass. You’re wiped by the end of the ride, sweat running in rivulets down your back. While Kate brings the horses into her little stable to let them rest and eat, you fill up the porcelain bowl in her bathroom with water to wash your face.

It’s quiet. You help with a few affairs around the house and you learn, to your own internal amusement, that Kate hums through her chores. Soap stops by in the early evening to drop off Kate’s mail and stays for supper, glad for the company. You watch bemusedly as he scarfs down three corned beef sandwiches with ease, mildly nauseated by the way he talks with his mouth full.

“Can he even breathe?” you hiss to Kate while Soap is busy shoveling food into his gob.

She nods, unbothered by the display in front of her. “You should see him when he’s actually hungry.”

You pale when he belches, pushing your plate away from you.

“Ye tell yer man when he’s back what a good job I’ve done, Mrs. Price,” he says, licking a leaking trail of sauce off his thumb.

“Won’t the town still standing be sufficient evidence?”

“Aye, but it’s sweeter comin’ from the missus, ye dinnae think?”

Incorrigible boy. You shake your head, acquiescing even if only to get him to shut up. That mollifies him, gets him crowing about the raise he’ll get, or the commendation. You think he’ll start going on about lofty aspirations towards sheriffdom, but he never quite gets to that point. You wonder if the rest of your life will be similarly composed of assumptions that fall flat when you look at them too hard.

He takes you home at the end of the night as a favor to Kate, who watches you from the door until she disappears into the faraway. You only have to yell at Soap twice to slow down when he tries to goad you into a faster gallop.

You sleep better that night, but only just. This time, it’s the empty spot beside you on the bed that bothers you. His pillow is cold when you reach over to touch it. Your hand lingers on the pillow; there’s a passing thought that maybe the warmth of your hand will transfer into the pillow and trick you in sleep. You have another passing thought that maybe somewhere out there, wherever John is, he’ll feel a phantom hand creep across the bed to cup his cheek.

The blooming flower of daylight comes again to wake you up and the cycle starts anew.

The chores never end, but there’s some comfort in routine. Regularity breeds familiarity. Any contempt has long been bled out of you, almost without you even noticing.

The days pass slowly. A horse-drawn carriage. A robin nestled in the branches of a pine tree sings at evening twilight. You look up to find it stark against the dark green needles, the fir’s red heart.

A neighbor comes by with fresh strawberries that you eat from the bowl out in the sun, lying down in the grass by the paddock. You suck the juice out of a big one when you bite into it and it drips messy down your chin. When the achenes fleck off, you wipe them off on your dress.

Though you half expect Kate to come by, she never does. Perhaps she’s busy in town. You remind yourself that the brevity of your friendship can hardly measure up to competing priorities. Minding the shop, for instance, or stopping by to check on other acquaintances.

And then the waiting ends when you see a dark shadow on the horizon that you recognize all at once as a man on horseback headed towards the house.

Elation clambers up your throat. You very nearly shout at the sheer sight of him, but at the last second, you manage to reign it in.

You wave at John from the porch when you can finally make out the face of the man riding up the path. Despite the euphoric wave that washes over you at the sight of him, you feign composure, keeping your butt planted on the porch swing until he dismounts and heads down the path towards you.

There's something striking about watching him from a distance. Like Kate, you see him now from a new angle, an added weight to him. When he lumbers up the porch steps, you don't just see the man that dragged you to the court house and forced you to marry him, but a man in his prime. Square, masculine jaw; thick thighed. Something in your belly stirs when he rolls his shoulders back, accentuating the breadth of them.

When he reaches you, he grips you under the arms to pull you up, but your arms wind around his neck without any coaxing, meeting him halfway. Every inch of your body presses into his, and he smells and feels exactly as you remembered.

“Been missing you like hell, sweetheart,” John rasps into your ear.

“Missed you too,” you mutter, lips smushed into a kiss against his cheek.

And you did, didn’t you? You can say it for once without worrying that you’ll fall apart.

The two of you stumble into the house in a daze. Your hands are already trembling well before you fist them into John’s hair to drag him into a kiss. Desperation claws up your throat, need choking you when you go to tell him how much you missed him. You missed him bone deep.

He pulls away briefly, chuckling when you whine. “Darlin’, can I at least get cleaned up? I’m a mess.”

His beard has grown since you last kissed him, the mutton chops more pronounced now. It scratches your lips and cheeks when you tug him back down for a deeper kiss. He can clean himself later as far as you’re concerned. You’ve gone three days now without your husband and you can’t go a second more.

You can feel his smile when he breaks the kiss again. “Honey—”

“No,” you cut him off, a whine threading your voice. You tighten your arms around his neck, pushing your bosom into his chest. “Please, John, don’t make me wait; I can’t—”

“Alright, alright,” John sighs, and then hunches slightly to fit his hands under your thighs and hike you up his body until your legs wind around his waist. “Poor girl. Never seen you this needy before. You missed me that bad?”

“Yes,” you answer succinctly, already pressing kisses into the sweaty skin of his neck and his cheeks. His arms shake when he laughs.

He nearly trips up the stairs when you suck at the salty skin of his neck.

John smiles amusedly when you whip your dress off, nearly getting tangled in it before letting it pile on the floor by the bed.

In a different time, your eagerness might embarrass you, but you’re well beyond that now. It’s impossible to hear that distant voice in your head shrieking modesty when your husband watches you indulgently and unbuttons his shirt so slowly that you nearly bark at him to hurry it up. And then you actually do when he goes to fold his shirt instead of simply tossing it to the floor.

He laughs; it sends frissons of heat down your spine.

It’s unclear who pursues and who is pursued this time. All you know is that you either push him onto the bed or he pulls you down with him, clothes long since stripped and piled onto the floor. Your hands sink into the meat of his chest when you sit astride his lap, wet folds grinding on the hard shaft jutting up between his legs. John hisses through clenched teeth, already worked up, fit to burst. You wonder if he tended to himself at all on his trip, whether he even had time.

The hands tightening around your waist tell you that, whether or not he did, it’s inconsequential now when faced with the thing he’s been wanting most.

Your instinct is to lift your hips and line his member up with your sopping entrance before sinking down, but John surprises you by shifting up the bed and dragging you with him, not stopping until your pussy is hovering over his mouth.

It’s easy to panic over that, easy to grow skittish. You start when the flat of his tongue runs up the seam of your cunt, the only thing keeping you from tumbling off the bed altogether being the big hands clamped around your hips.

“You try to keep your pussy off my face and I’ll give you a licking you won’t like anywhere near as much,” John warns, and then pulls you down onto his face without further ado.

Your back arches at the first lick, his tongue burrowing into your hole, softened by the slick leaking out of you. His lips and tongue work you over until you’re a shivering, coiled mess on top of his face, hands braced against the wall and toes burrowing into the mattress.

A stiff tongue stabs up into your hole. The groan he lets out at the taste of you vibrates through you, making you clench around his tongue.

You’ve never been much of a drinker, but you feel drunk now, grinding on his mouth. Hands running through his hair. Blissed out, sex leaking, throbbing. Shameful noises pouring out of you unbidden, your inhibitions packed up and long gone by now. His upper lip glistens with your juices and when his eyes blink open, they’re nearly black with desire.

The hands on your bottom holding you over his head grip into you good and tight. He readjusts his hold on you whenever you try to pull off his face, yanking you back down and digging his fingers in harder, the tips wedged between your cheeks. You practically yowl when a finger prods at your back hole, worrying over the puckered flesh.

The time for gentle words is far beyond him. When you glance down between your legs, his hair is matted with sweat and disheveled, a flush high on his cheekbones. Blue eyes peer out through slits, locked on the dripping mess between your thighs. His nose presses hard into your pubic bone when he pulls you down onto his waiting mouth, lips parting and tongue sawing over your clit. That part you can’t see, but you feel the wet slide of his tongue over your slit.

You come with a finger lodged knuckle deep in your ass and his tongue rolling over your clit, coaxing it from you. Your whole body pulses and shivers. Chuckling to himself when you go dumb during it, slumped over him and panting hard. Tears dripping down your cheeks that John cleans up himself with his tongue when he drags you back down his chest and rolls the two of you over.

“God, you look so pretty like this, honey,” he coos when he’s got you under him, pinching your cheeks between his fingers until your lips go plump and pursed.

When he drags you into a kiss, his tongue still tastes of you.

He takes you on your back after that, knees over his shoulders and bending you in ways you didn’t think possible. Whatever control he had before is gone now. He thrusts in to the hilt the second he gets you flat on your back, taking three days of frustration out on you, near punching your cervix with the head of his cock.

“There we go— fuck—” John growls. “C’mon, squeeze me tight, honey; make me come in your pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

You feel like a creature turned inside of itself. All high yips, sharp pangs of pleasure, an ache in your hips that you know instinctively will worsen by morning, and a deep seated, unquenchable need. He mates you like a beast in heat, jaw clenched and brows furrowed; when your eyelids slip shut, he growls at you to keep them open, and you do only to find him staring down at you with that indelible, maddening intensity of his.

“Nngh, John—John—” you gasp.

“Just a little, darlin’—shh, c’mon, just take it. Like that, yes—that’s it.”

A dark urge flutters under your skin, blinking its eyes open. You stare up at him through half lidded eyes. “Gonna come in me and give me a baby, John?”

His eyes go black. “I’m gonna fill this tight cunt right up, you keep talking like that.”

You reach up to rake your hands through his hair. "Please give me a baby, John. Give me it, please."

His hips snap forward, knocking the breath out of you. He pounds into you with renewed vigor, lost in it, your nipples tagging his chest with every thrust.

If you could peel back your skin and tuck him into your ribcage, you would. He’s already in you anyway; everywhere it counts. Leathery musk wafting under your nose, sweat-slicked skin, his spend deep in your cunt and leaking out around his throbbing cock, the heat steaming off him and warming you from the outside in and inside out. His come spurts into you hot and viscous, so deep that you swear you can taste it at the back of your throat.

In the aftermath, you curl up against his chest and he traces a finger lazily up and down your spine.

“You’ve been so patient with me.” You don’t know what prompts you to say that, but you know it’s been sitting in your chest and waiting for you to put it to words.

His fingers pause in their ministrations, his hand resting flat on your back. “Patient?”

“Don’t play dumb, John. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Got some nerve accusing me of playing dumb,” he chuckles softly, leaning down to butt his forehead against yours.

You nearly go cross eyed. Doe eyed. Treacle tart soft in your chest. You wonder if you’ll look back on this someday in fear and awe, and think that is the very moment when you finally let him in.

This is how love suffuses into the girl: you wake up gasping to find it staring down at you.

You’re brave enough now to ask what it is that you need. The world flashes briefly before you: in it, you see every possible version of a girl, how she goes from animal skin to teeth glinting in the night. She is perforated and vibrating; lacunae as the voice drips back into the sea, papyrus crackling hot in the fire.

Maybe new love flounders again against the rhythms of the old, the song of you now sleeping beneath an alder tree, thickening with lemon and honey.

“I’m going to…—you know I’ll tell you. I just need time.”

“Darlin’, I know. There’s no use for rushing things. It happens when it happens,” John murmurs. He drops a bristly kiss on your forehead.

“…And if it doesn’t happen?”

He shrugs. “Then it doesn’t happen.”

It’s a shock when love finds you because you don’t expect it. You’d open the door to anything else in a heartbeat, but it’s love that finds you cowering under the stairs.

Love is not something you’ve ever touched, not even grazed. You recognize the insidious rot of lust or the gnarled grip of possession, but love? That has yet evaded your attempts on it. Not that you’ve ever given it a good go.

But now, when you think of it, it looks at you through blue eyes.

You sleep on it. You don’t contemplate when it’ll happen only because you know it’s inevitable. Your lips have already grown loose. When he eats you out in the early morning hours after a good night’s sleep for once since John left, you have to swallow back the wails of I love you, I love you, tell me you love me, please, please.

Your lips part, lax. Only sinking your mouth down over his turgid length after he’s made you come keeps you from accidentally saying the words. The soft, grunted fuck he lets out at that empties out any thought in your head.

Desperate times, desperate measures.

If John knows, he jealously guards your secret. Would take it to his grave you think. Just for him and you to know. Any temerity from the night before is squashed in the light of day, and you sit across from him at the table during breakfast wishing that he could hear the words in your head, if only so you didn’t have to say it out loud.

God bites the lip when you want it most to part. Isn’t that just the nature of life?

John leaves you off at the general store as always, dropping a peck to your lips before heading out on his way, but when you wander inside, you find Miles behind the counter instead of Kate. That dims the excitement in your chest a tad. It’s no fault of his, but you’d hoped to regale Kate with the revelation you’d had the night previous, omitting some of the lewder details. Instead you’ll be forced to wait until she’s back in town. When you ask Miles when abouts that’ll be, he shrugs, unable to give you a definite answer.

“Visiting a friend, she said,” he tells you, and you blink like you don’t know exactly what that means.

Her absence leaves you in a lurch though, little else to do but wander around the store. You’d leave entirely and try to find something else to occupy your time, but you feel a bit foolish coming in just to leave right away, though you’re sure Miles wouldn’t care either way. Still, you tell yourself you’ll linger for a few minutes before heading out to the library or down the road for a coffee at the inn.

The bell over the door jingles, but you pay it no mind.

You linger in the aisle with the fruit preserves and canned fish, gazing into the bottles. Tins with hand-drawn labels, branded packaging. On another shelf, you find oyster crackers, National Biscuit Company on the label. Nabisco. If Kate were minding the shop, you’d pop your head around the aisle to ask her what corned beef brand she used the other day.

The sound of spurs jangling from behind you makes you frown and turn your head.

A hand clamps down over your mouth, muffling the yelp that leaps instinctively from your throat, and you go shock cold when the blunt muzzle of a pistol wedges against the small of your back.

“Bet you thought you were clever gettin’ me out of town, didn’t you, girl?”

Your eyes widen.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #captain john price

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coff33andb00ks · 7 months ago

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Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{next}

face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #my writings > mv > rulebreaker

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starlostseungmin · 8 months ago

Text

husband!chan

✰ notes: the second entry of husband!skz series!! this is just for the meantime since my brain is still not ready to write a lot. i hope you guys enjoy!! not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin（ chan ）lee know , jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Chan who got down on one knee and asked, “Will you marry me?” on a private beach—just the two of you—because it was his ideal proposal and you gladly said yes.

Husband Chan who took you to (name of country) for your honeymoon.

Husband Chan who would take you to Sydney for a vacation and meet his family.

Husband Chan who suggested to make Berry as your child while you were still thinking about having literal kids. It doesn’t matter how long, he only needs you and Berry to make him happy.

Husband Chan who has seven children to feed and declare you as his wife.

Husband Chan who puts you first before everything.

Husband Chan who loves to send pictures with the caption “For your eyes only,” and giggles to himself while reading your replies saying how much he looks cute or handsomeーhe can imagine your reactions.

Husband Chan who loves movie nights and lets you decide which one you’d be watching so you better wear the most comfortable clothes and prepare a bucket of popcorn.

Husband Chan who cooks you a lot of food and loves spoon-feeding you because you are his precious baby.

Husband Chan who pretends he doesn’t know about you stealing his hoodies. He doesn’t mind and gets all giddy when you wear them since they look cute on you. “I’m not giving them back,” You said. “What’s mine is yours, baby,” He smiled.

Husband Chan who invites you out on a dinner date on a casual weekend because he knows you would enjoy it. After dinner you would stroll around the city, holding hands.

Husband Chan who carries you to your shared bed when he finds you sleeping on the couch while waiting for him to come home from work.

Husband Chan who writes love songs about you and gets teased by Han and Changbin.

Husband Chan who gives you the silent treatment but can’t put up with it for hours so he just pretends nothing happened and cuddles you.

Husband Chan who knows what exactly you want when you’re upset and would gladly take you in his arms. He never leaves your side unless you want some space but you can’t be away from him for too long.

Husband Chan who scolds you when you are not resting enough when he’s out there overworking himself. You decided that both of you should take a few days off which he willingly agreed to so he can spend more time with you.

Husband Chan who lets himself be vulnerable when he’s with you because you’re the only one with whom he could let it all out.

Husband Chan who loves to spoil you with hugs whenever you need them.

Husband Chan who listens and understands whatever situation and dilemmas you have without any judgments rather he reassures you that everything will be okay. He gives you his full support for your decisions.

Husband Chan who knows everyone in the industry so he knows a lot of controversies. He would share them with you on a random Sunday to gossip and giggle.

Husband Chan who loves to make dad jokes and relays pick-up lines just to make you laugh. He gets embarrassed when it’s not funny so he hides in the bathroom until you get over it.

Husband Chan whose love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation, and acts of service.

Husband Chan who has the most precious smile and laughs adorably makes your heart leap.

Husband Chan whom you love the most in the world and will not let anything hurt him.

Husband Chan whom you want to spend the rest of your life with, forever and always.

Husband Chan who will never leave, never lets you go, and never allow you to divorce him because there’s no reason to begin with. He loves you, you love him, same story.

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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cutielando · 17 days ago

Text

insomnia is a bitch | r.c.

synopsis: in which Rafe notices how little sleep you're really getting

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

You sighed, your patience already running out.

Glancing at the clock, you closed your eyes and damned the late hour.

3:47 am

Giving up on the idea of sleeping, you threw the covers off your legs and made your way to your kitchen, hoping to find some more milk in the fridge to soothe you.

Ever since you were a teenager, you had struggled with insomnia, and although things had got better since then, you still had some nights where sleep just seemed to elude you, no matter how exhausted and tired you were.

But milk always helped, funnily enough. After only one glass, you would return to bed and fall asleep within minutes.

However, you doubted it would work tonight.

You had ran out of your melatonin and forgot to pick up another prescription earlier that day, so the milk was your one and only hope of catching some shut-eye tonight.

Opening the fridge, you were faced with the disappointing reality that the milk cartoon was empty.

Returning disappointedly to your bed, you grabbed your phone and texted Rafe.

you awake?

You waited patiently for a reply, but nothing came. You sighed, knowing he was probably deeply asleep. He was working so much, leaving early before you’d wake up and coming home late.

You understood why he was not awake.

But it didn’t help your frustration.

You knew what the problem was, though. Deep down, you had realized very early on why you had trouble sleeping some nights.

Ever since you and Rafe got together, you spent a lot of time at his house, basically sleeping there almost every single night.

But tonight, your parents had had some family over for dinner and you didn’t want to drive all the way to Rafe’s house so late at night, instead opting to sleep in your own bedroom.

And yet sleep didn’t come.

You had got so used to Rafe holding you while you slept, hugging you close to his body and burying your face in his chest, that you weren’t able to sleep without him anymore.

Every time one of you wouldn’t be home, you couldn’t get any sleep. Even when you were sleeping at his place, when he had late nights and would come home late, you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep before he got home, no matter how late it would get.

You couldn’t sleep without Rafe anymore.

Looking at the clock again, you let out another sigh.

4:13 am

You ultimately decided to just lay in bed and hope that you would succumb to your exhaustion at one point during the night.

♡♡♡♡♡

You felt like everything was going wrong today.

You hadn’t caught a blink of sleep the entire night, then you were late for work, your car broke down before you could leave, you spilt drinks on your shirt and completely forgot to pack a change.

Everything was upside down the entire time.

The only good thing to come out of the day was Rafe, your sweet boyfriend who had managed to leave work earlier and come pick you up from your shift.

Seeing his truck pull up in the front driveway of the country club felt like God himself had landed in front of you.

You were quick in getting inside the truck and relaxing against the seat, making Rafe chuckle and eye you.

“Hey baby” he greeted you, leaning over the console and giving you a quick kiss.

“Hey” you replied, albeit not enthusiastically.

He noticed the mood in your tone, something he was already very familiar with.

“Do I want to ask?” he said, reversing out of the parking lot to begin the journey back to his house.

And that’s the cue you had been waiting for, going on a rant about everything that had gone wrong since you got up from bed that morning.

Rafe listened with curiosity, tuning out the parts he thought weren’t as important.

But when you had got to the part about not getting any sleep again, you got his attention completely.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” he asked, sneaking glances at you every once in a while.

Now that you had mentioned it, he did notice the bags under your eyes had got even bigger than they usually were, you looked completely worn and exhausted and you weren’t as cheerful as he was used to.

You shrugged at his question, not wanting to reveal the actual reason why you didn't fall asleep the entire night.

"I don't know. I kept tossing and turning the entire night and at one point I just gave up trying to sleep" you explained, resting your head against the headrest.

Rafe hummed and nodded, but his mind wasn't at ease. He didn't like it when you didn't take care of yourself, even when it was something you couldn't really control.

As he continued to drive towards his house and listen to you yapping about your day, he was making mental notes about the things he was going to do when you got home to make sure you're relaxed and will be able to fall asleep later in the evening.

After all, he had to take care of his favorite girl.

♡♡♡♡♡

A delicious dinner and a warm bath later, you and Rafe were cuddled up under the soft covers adorning his bed, your body pulled completely over Rafe's.

Your head was resting against his chest, his steady heartbeat filling your ears.

"Are you sleepy yet?" Rafe asked, his voice soft as he ran his hands through your hair soothingly.

"Yeah, it's slowly catching up with me" you mumbled, not bothering to lift your head from his chest.

You were far too comfortable and too exhausted to even move a muscle.

Rafe kept twirling your soft hair around his fingers, his mind occupied with worry. How had he not seen how exhausted you had been for days? He was beating himself up for not even realizing his girlfriend was sleep-deprived and completely exhausted.

"I can hear you thinking" you mumbled, chuckling at the end.

Rafe chuckled softly, his heart warming. You knew him better than he cared to admit sometimes.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about you" he said, making your eyes open slightly.

"What about me?" you asked, settling back down.

He sighed, his hand dropping to hold your waist.

"I didn't even realize how tired you were" he whispered, his tone worried and sad.

You bit your lip, contemplating whether to expose yourself in order to calm down his nerves or just shut up.

In the end, you decided to just come clean about it.

"It's okay, Rafe. I've been spending most of my nights here, that's why you didn't notice anything. I can sleep just fine when we sleep in the same bed, I just have trouble falling asleep when we're apart" you said, glad that the room was dark and he couldn't see the blush that rose to your cheeks upon admitting that.

"Really?" he asked, his voice a little shocked.

You nodded, too sleepy to say anything else.

Rafe's heart warmed at the thought that he provided you with so much security and love that you only felt safe enough to sleep next to him.

What more could a man possibly want in life?

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sweatervest-obsessed · 3 months ago

Text

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

Alternate Ending! Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.”

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart.

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.”

“Wait for the potential of us?”

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.”

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.”

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face.

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....”

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…”

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved.

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough.

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.”

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home.

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..”

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him.

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty.

And it stuck.

Now? It stung.

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms.

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...”

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face.

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time.

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you.

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it.

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you.

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years.

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job.

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off.

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years.

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone.

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.”

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. .

Spencer just stared at the photo.

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours. I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call.

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.”

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything.

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?”

“What?”

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.”

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?”

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now.

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life.

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter.

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely.

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit.

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night.

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car.

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face.

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.”

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort.

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?”

The three of you moved inside.

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like.

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you.

“What do you know about Cat Adams?”

That bitch.

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.”

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.”

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.”

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was.

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.”

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips.

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too.

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file.

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh.

“What is the last thing you know about her?”

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later.

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces.

“What? What happened?”

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?”

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–”

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.”

Both of them went silent.

“So is he out?”

They nodded slowly, silently.

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing.

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.”

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down.

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you.

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?”

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.”

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her.

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile.

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind.

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed.

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room.

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.”

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.”

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.”

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer.

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid.

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture.

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?”

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.”

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it.

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest.

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong.

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter.

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?”

“She took your father and sister.”

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.”

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear.

“So why is she here?” You whispered back.

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.”

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation.

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet.

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent.

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable.

“Don’t even start.”

He shrugged and stayed silent.

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.”

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.”

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone.

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch.

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch.

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.”

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.”

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.”

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?”

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office.

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily.

Emily sighed in agreement.

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n really shouldn’t be in there.”

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.”

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ.

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.”

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open.

And there he was.

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years.

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams.

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship.

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours.

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit.

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine.

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger.

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?”

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face.

Remember what Prentiss had said to you.

“You know why I’m here.”

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them.

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back.

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off.

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?”

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser.

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue.

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.”

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense.

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face.

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before.

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.”

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.”

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud.

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?”

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.”

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?”

“No.” you just looked down at your hands.

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.”

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?”

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.”

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her. “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch.

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed.

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?”

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine.

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.”

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.”

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.”

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head.

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.”

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where.

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.”

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you.

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?”

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you.

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?”

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.”

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?”

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.”

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.”

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?”

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here. Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”.

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?”

“Last year.”

“Was he good in bed?”

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.”

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow.

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?”

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?”

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send.

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.”

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.”

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” .

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.”

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.”

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.”

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer.

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.”

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up.

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?”

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.”

“Would you have written me back?”

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer.

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison.

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke. “We need to debrief.”

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in.

“Spencer, are you okay?”

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug.

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound.

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached.

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away.

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other.

“I should explain all of this.”

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.”

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.”

He just nodded, staring at you really.

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back.

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.”

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find.

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.”

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face.

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger.

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.”

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.”

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…”

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation.

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…”

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was.

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.”

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better.

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago.

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him.

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you.

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours.

It was Spencer who spoke first.

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—”

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did.

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered.

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different.

It’s not the way it used to be.

“I need to go Spencer.”

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek.

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure.

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head.

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.”

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.”

“Y/n please.”

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.”

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek.

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out.

You didn’t.

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you.

But it had to end.

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you.

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car.

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces.

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you.

The doors shut.

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage.

Your heart was aching, burning.

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time.

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yandere-daydreams · 3 months ago

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Hear me out hear me out on this concept idea

Southern gothic small town pastor Geto AU

tw - non/con, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, financial abuse via organized religion, and implied kidnapping.

wait that would actually be so hot of him actually.

i don't know what is about geto but he just,,, radiates scummy religious figure energy to such an atrocious degree. like, couldn't you just imagine him moving from small town to small town, posing as a country-values pastor to scam his ever-growing congregation out of their life's savings and retirement funds before smuggling himself away and moving on to fresher meat? if he works quickly, the whole operation takes a little less than six months, and he's got such a charming smile and such a soothing voice - no one's ever so much as thought twice about trusting him, not really, not unless they wanted to be the next town outcast.

well, no one aside from you, of course.

it's cute - just how suspicious you are of the man who has your chronically truant parents sitting in the front row of his chapel twenty minutes early. you'll tell anyone who's got the time to listen that you don't like his hollow expressions, that you don't find his sermon-topics appropriate, that you don't trust how quickly he showed up after your last pastor suddenly went missing. no one listens to you, of course. you burnt that bridge when you decided to move away to some big, new-age city and attend some expensive, self-aggrandizing university. like him, you'll only be in town for a few months, just until the start of your next semester, but unlike him, you actually care about what's going to happen to your neighbors after you leave. the fact that you stopped going to church entirely after he took over doesn't help. in a town like this, you might as well be signing the warrant for your own social exile.

you make an effort to keep your distance, but he just can't seem to pay you the same courtesy. in a town like yours, it's can be hard not to run into familiar faces, especially when he seems to stop in at the general store where you picked up a summer job every other day, when he mentions to your mother that they could really use an extra pair of hands at the church's monthly bake sale or tells your father that he might want to bring a helper the next time he comes to fix up a few things around the sanctuary. you're always so flustered around him, always so brooding - like you think someone's going to believe you just because you cross your arms and pout. he savors any chance he gets to touch you - whether it's his hand ghosting over the small of your back as he moves past you in a narrow hall or your body pressing into his after he forgoes your offered handshake in favor of a nice, tight, neighborly hug.

and, when you come to him, he thinks he might finally know why people try so hard to get into heaven. it goes without saying that you're irate, shouting at him from the steps of his parsonage as you demand he return the tens of thousands of dollars that your mother so generously donated early that day, but it's not hard to convince you to come inside, to get a glass of wine into your hand under the pretense that, if you really drove all this way just to yell at him, it's the least you deserve. things devolve from there - your glass looks a little empty, why doesn't he top you off while you tell him what a terrible person he is? you've already finished that bottle, but he's got a gorgeous vintage red, and you're just starting to slur - he's sure it'll be fine. and, oh, well, you're far too drunk to drive yourself home, but don't worry, his bed's big enough to share. and oh, look at that, don't you feel lucky to wake up naked and sore in an unfamiliar bed, the handsome young pastor's cock still buried inside of you? he's sure your parents will be elated when you two tell them about your new engagement (because, of course, you can't just sleep with your local pastor and expect to come out of it without a ring on your finger, can you?), even if you seem a little upset right now.

it's only as he watches you sob into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and his cum still dripping out of you, that he decides he might be able to stay in this particular small town for a few more months. just long enough to find a way to take you with him, when he leaves.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere geto suguru #geto suguru x reader

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ruruumin · 29 days ago

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hi!! I came across you and I thought your work is really amazing!! This is my first time asking something like this haha but for everything a first :) I really love figure skating and I was wondering if you could make a oneshot or any headcannons of the reactions of blue lock characters haha (mostly rin nagi and sae)! (sorry if I made some mistakes, English is t my first language)

ice, ice, baby!

₊˚ ᗢ blue lock various x figure skater! reader.

⤷ what kind of relationships rin, sae, and nagi (separate) would be in.

itoshi rin

“if you’re going to do something, do it with your entire heart.”

rin met you when he was only ten years old. you were his next door neighbor with a feverish dream to become the best figure skater in the world. although it may have been one of the loftiest dreams anyone might hear, he believed in you the same way you did for him. and together, he will see you perform all over the country, with him in arms waiting.

so when a cold rainy day comes and the two of you were walking home together under a shared umbrella, he wanted to say something. but you beat him to it. standing in front of your door, you turned around and smiled, saying only two things: i will be leaving to russia tomorrow morning to train with a new coach.

this first part came as a no brainer to him, of course you would leave. just as sae did a few months ago, you were beginning to flap the wings you were blessed with. however, the second part was what kept him on his toes, heart punching up to his throat: and i love you, rin.

after departing in the morning, he would stay up late to watch your performances on television. even when he had early practice, it was complete habit to see you on screen. your presence on the ice was unmatched by many of your cohorts in russia. cold and calculative, yet free flowing. like a confident stream you graced the fields with a polished play. alongside a perfectly timed quad axel, it placed you right at the top of the world.

the ultimate power couple. when you’re at the kiss and cry, you’ll say his name to the camera before blowing a kiss. meanwhile, whenever he scores a goal, he’ll raise his fist in a catching motion, bringing it up to his lips as he hides his faint smile behind his hand. your performances will always be dedicated to each other and it drives the press mad (rightfully so).

when you return to japan, he’s the first person that you see at the airport. in only a matter of seconds, with his extremely long legs and speed, he is wrapping his arms around you tightly, inhaling your scent as he lays his head on your shoulder.

he would immediately take you back to all your favorite places. during your time away, he had taken a multitude of pictures and sent you dozens of instagram reels of cafes. now that you were here in his arms, it made going to them all the more real (or maybe not, with you sitting in front of him, enjoying a mont blanc and latte, it feels like the perfect dream).

sleeping in the same bed as him had never felt any better. while you knew him to be a drooler, you would have never expected him to be clingier than a koala. he is keeping you flushed against his chest the entire night. if you think about getting water, he will follow you with arms tangled with yours.

itoshi sae

“i’ll carve my name into ice while you all watch in awe.”

the only other person with the same amount of arrogance as him was you, a rebellious teenager he found on the streets of spain. you tried to pickpocket him on his first day in the country. instead of reporting you to the police, he asked you one simple question that changed the trajectory of your life: if you had the chance to do anything, what would it be?

some people viewed you as a lost cause in the figure skating world. having started extremely late compared to your other peers, your name was rubbish and caked in dirt. however, it never stopped sae from coming to see you after every practice, watching as you practiced your spins and salchows underneath the dim lights of the arena with a coach he’d hired. to him, you were a diamond in the rough that just needed a push.

he didn’t think much about your relationship until it was late at night. you were walking back with him to a hotel, face covered with masks to avoid intruding paparazzi. it started off with small talk, like family and friends (you learned he had a very cocky but sweet brother back in japan), but it quickly diverged into something more intimate that had the two of you walking into his room with intertwined pinkies.

when it came time to perform in the qualifying rounds, you had plunged the stadium with wails and tears. overcoming the country’s beloved skater by a wide margin, you stood above everyone, head raised high as you pointed up to the cameras, hardening your gaze as you mouthed sae’s name. you must have known he was watching from the corners of the locker room.

the world of figure skating was going to change with you, a new generation skater that rose from nothing.

sae feels immense pride when it comes with you. even though there were many curve balls thrown in your direction, whether it be from bad press or his persistent fanbase, the smile you hid beneath the covers reassured him that you were going to stick it out. nothing in the world could compare to the happiness you felt when you were with sae. because with him, you knew you could do anything.

dates typically consist of fancy meals or sightseeing trips. he isn’t particularly drawn to these activities himself, but what motivates him is the thought of treating you to something new. whether it be a pretty dessert from down the street that costed an arm and a leg, or seeing the stars as you walk along the beach, he’ll dedicate a huge chunk of his income to letting you see the world in its fullest.

matching photocards on the back of your phone cases. sae uses a clear one so he can flip his phone around and stare at you before every game. while some think he’s admiring your smile (as beautiful as it is), he’s actually sees you as the perfect rival to his games. although you were both in different sports, the two of you constantly pushed each other to your limits, showing the world what it means to be the very best.

nagi seishiro

“there is no point in anything if you aren’t going to have fun.”

he wasn’t interested in figure skating until he came across one of your performances on youtube. it was really early into middle school when he started watching you. one of the reasons why he started was because you skated to a lot of his favorite songs from video games he liked. the second reason was because you looked like you were having fun.

unlike most figure skaters he’s seen, you made the sport look enjoyable (he thinks everyone else looks extremely constipated when they’re too focused). with a beautifully confident smile, you danced across the ice, performing triple axels and a perfect biellmann spin. you skated as if you truly loved this sport, and this was the selling point for him (maybe this is when he started to be called a certified fanboy).

when he arrived to blue lock, the first thing he wanted to win back was his phone so he could keep up with your recent uploads. even when you aren’t posting something figure skating related, your miniature q&a sessions were entertaining enough to keep him awake for the rest of the night, much to reo’s dismay (he wanted to sleep early for once).

the best thing reo had gifted him were a pair of tickets to see you perform at one of the biggest skating rinks in the country. nagi was almost shaking in his seat in excitement, eyes wider than saucers when you stepped into the arena with the prettiest outfit known to man. you blew kisses and waved to the audience, giving them your signature smile. you suddenly stopped in your tracks to deliver a long kiss in nagi’s direction, something that sent him into an early cardiac arrest.

your relationship with him blossoms after seeing him at the local convenience store. the two of you had awkwardly reached for the same cup noodle. even though you were dressed in a simple, oversized black hoodie and a mask that hid half of your face, he easily recognized you by the sound of your voice. nagi’s phone would have dropped to the ground if it wasn’t for you catching it midway. when the screen lights up with a picture of you as his wallpaper, you smile and type in your number, throwing his phone back to him as you take the cup noodle and leave.

you and him would text consistently. after every practice he would immediately rush over to his phone to see if you had left any messages. expect a lot of back and forth photos. nagi’s pictures consisting of things he saw that reminded him of you while you sent him photos of yourself at practice or a recent choreograph.

imagine how shocked your youtube fanbase is when you show up with your 6’3 boyfriend who barely shows up on camera because hes too tall for your tripod. you’re teaching him how to ice skate and although he started as a wobbly giraffe, he easily picked up a lot of tricks. he might not be the best at doing jumps but his footwork was impeccable (you like to tease him about switching careers but he lazily replies with his face in your shoulder about how much work it’ll be).

#₊˚ ᗢ ruruumin #₊˚ ᗢ letters #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk boys x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader

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bunny-jpeg · 6 months ago

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i've had a horrid idea in my head, don't look at me! (maid!reader feat. soap & ghost)

so basically

you get hired through the cleaning service that you work for, to help keep a house outside the city nice and clean. you are a bit confused why whoever hired you needed a maid who lived over two hours away. but, you were assured that it would be worth it and shuffled off.

you thankfully only had two go twice a week, mondays and wednesdays with your day off in the middle. the pay was above standard, pictures of the home were shown, along with profiles of the owners.

simon riley and john mactavish. they were army men who wouldn't be at the house as much as most customers. which was a relief. this was not however the case, as the more you spent coming over the house to clean, the more they seemed to be around.

the blond one with the face scars was simon and the burnette with the mohawk and the scottish accent was johnny (he made you call im johnny). it would taken several months before they made the first move.

it started with johnny brushing up against your backside while he was in nothing but pajama pants. his erection against you.

then the snowstorm happened. you were about the go home, determined to drive when the snow came down in heaps. the snowflakes were almost as big as a two pence coin.

you ended up staying, and johnny brought out the whisky! he told you it was the good stuff from the highlands as he served you a healthy glass. it still burned like a bastard when it went down, the disgusted face you made caused the other two men to laugh. when you tried to use the bathroom you heard simon's voice ring out, "oh, there she goes!". as the snow hit the ground outside, you got drunk with your customers.

which then resulted in coy kisses, followed by loud fucking in simon's room. it had the bigger bed but it didn't matter because your hands and knees ached by the of the night. as did the back of your throat (you couldn't talk the morning after) and your pussy (you sat in weird positions to ease the pain for a week after).

simon and johnny were bullies to you sexually. you were twisted like a pretzel as both men just fucked you without abandon. you were left gasping and it didn't help that it turned you on too! you were such a bad maid, but it was hard to believe yourself when both men grumbled your praises as they moved you once more to get at just the right angle.

you tried to give the appearance of keeping it professional, but when you ended up back at work your boss told you that simon and john needed more help before their deployment, so she had moved your customers to other maids.

your priority was to help those men anyway you could! "they're serving our country! they need as much as they can before they leave once more!"

it wouldn't take long before you pretty much moved your life into their home. when you called the resign from your job at the maid agency, johnny was between your legs while you were sitting on the kitchen counter. your free hand was in his mohawk, yanking on the strands. he had spent all morning encouraging you to quit your job, which mean being laid out behind you with his hand down the front of your panties. his calloused fingers rubbing your clit until you were practically yelping from the overstimulation!

one night when you were "helping them" simon was gone for several hours and came back with boxes of your stuff. everything was put in neatly, when you tried to ask why he simply said, "you can't be wearing our civvies forever." (as if the two men weren't going to buy you clothes or anything else you needed). but it was nice to have some stuff with you. you never asked how he got into the apartment though.

sometimes the boys will still play maid with you. johnny liked it when he got to push up the skirt of the maid's dress you were wearing and simon liked when he got to tear the garter under the skirt right off. johnny's cock was soon balls deep in your while simon licked your clit.

paycheck wasn't necessary anymore, not while you were living with them full time. living in the city was nice, you would always cherish your time in it! but it was a lot nicer being sandwiched between two burly men who would capture the sun and the moon and serve it to you on a silver platter. <3

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starillusion13 · 10 months ago

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Hi! Your fics are so good! specially the ot8xreader fic 💖💖💖

Can i also request ot8xreader, you suddenly disappeared and they thought you ran away (with their money and jewelries) and betrayef them but in reality one of their female employees leads you to nowhere and tried to kill you (because she is jealous and wants the boys for herself) she make it looks like you ran away to make the boys mad at you but you are laying in hospital bed comatose for months. one of boys/or member of the mafia saw you in hospital when they tried to smuggle medical equipments and report it to ateez.

I hope it make sense 😅 Thank you

You are our Home

Pairing: Mafia! Ateez x f!reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia, Fluff

W.C: 8.2k

Warnings: arguments, regret, trust issues, cheating(?), hints of torture, mention of cuts and wounds(just the pain not detailed), mention of hospital and mafia business and deals, traumas and betrayals, comatose, stroke, nausea, scared, crying, lies. A lot shit is going on in the fic.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. I don’t know what’s up to with the requests coz all are Angst at this point. But I have included fluff here. Clap your hands👏.

“Are you sure she is not home?”

“Seonghwa, I have gone there myself to check the whole place. Even few of her things are missing. Something is not setting right here.” Hongjoong’s impatient voice echoed through the speaker in the room. The members round the table were all attentive to the conversation between the two older ones. “Yeosang is tracking her id but he couldn’t find anything important. And what about San? Did he come back?”

Hearing the question, Seonghwa looked towards Wooyoung who shook his head and the older one sighed before delivering the message to their leader on call. Before hanging up the call, he informed the three members to come back to their office for further discussion about you. They last heard your voice yesterday evening when you were asking them if they would return yesterday or the next day. They didn’t know that the next day, instead of finding you waiting for them at the parking lot, they will be greeted to an empty cabin.

Usually, whenever they go to overseas missions, you pass on it because you intend to maintain all the procedures in the office and home. They respect your thoughts and opinions a lot so they never said anything on those way of thinking. Just like other trips, they bid goodbye to you and they went off to the designated country. When they reached there, you had a video call with them and they assured you that they would return soon—one month would pass in a blink. But maybe something went wrong. With the passing of days, you became distant with them, not picking up their calls or maybe just leaving a short text message ‘I’m busy’ and your close employee friend, Amy supported your side, telling them that the company had some issues ongoing with money and she also sent them all the details where it was always your duty to do it. Generally, they didn’t mind but they were worried for you overworking yourself so they told Amy to look after you. She assured them that she would be always by your side and would manage to do the most of the works.

Today, it was their day of return and last evening hearing your voice over the call made them impatient to come back home soon. They wanted to talk to you a lot but somehow you were not in a mood to hold a long conversation with them and so they didn’t ask you anything much. It was okay because they knew very next moment you will be in their arms and then they will keep you away from workloads for a while. But who knew, you won’t be anywhere in their surroundings.

San slammed the door open and glared at the ones present inside the room. The one who was sitting near the door rolled his eyes, knowing his over-dramatic acts like usual but when he caught his gaze, he could see the fire in his eyes.

Seonghwa raised his brow from the end of the table, “What happened, San?” Wooyoung and Mingi close to him were also watching San shuffling his hairs in anger and threw the glass from the table beside Jongho, who was already annoyed with him from earlier.

“Where is Hongjoong?”

Wooyoung was quick to reply, “He was on a call with us almost an hour back. They went to our home and then they will stop by the store to pick up some packages. They will be back soon.” Mingi nodded and went back to check some important news, displaying on his phone screen.

“Who else has the access to the shared account?”

“What do you mean by that, San? You know we don’t use that account and it’s only get handled by y/n. after she returns, you can ask her about it if it has any problem.” Seonghwa said it calmly but he could see the impatient and a flick of rage in the man’s eyes. San again picked up a glass but got stopped by Jongho, “don’t throw it again.”

They glared at each other before gulping down the water and he turned towards the oldest one.

“did she tell anything about transacting large amount of money? You know the account is empty as well as the spare account doesn’t have any money. The locker with the expensive jewels in her cabin is also empty. Why does she need so much of money all of a sudden?”

Everyone was shocked on hearing him. You needed money and for what? Nobody had any sort of hint that maybe you were going through some rough days, they would have consulted things with you. They would have tried to make you relax but no—you kept everything to yourself and didn’t tell anything to them. You were in some trouble and the thought itching their mind to ask you about it.

“her phone is still switched off.” Jongho sighed and sat on the couch beside Mingi who glanced at the clock.

San sat beside Wooyoung, “What’s even going on? There is no news of her whereabouts. She is not picking up her calls and now all these moneys and jewelleries are missing. I want her to explain me everything right now.”

“San, calm down. I am sure she has her own reasons for this.”

“And when do you think will she return, Mingi? Are you sure we are just going to sit and wait for her?”

Before the other could say anything, the door slammed open and Hongjoong entered furiously with Yeosang and Yunho trailing behind him. Neither of them appeared any less frustrated than the leader. Wooyoung was still staring at the door until it got closed by Yunho. He sighed and looked away—he thought you might enter the room with them and then would surprise them with a silly joke and the rest of the day will end up with you getting scolded but in the end you knew it was because they care for you.

Where are you?

“What’s the news, Yeosang?”

Hongjoong sat on his chair and ruffled his hairs, Seonghwa patted his back and looked towards the hacker who was being asked a question by the youngest.

“Nothing Jongho. We can’t find her anywhere. It’s still showing her last location was at the A.T.M and we checked the C.C.T.V but she was pretty normal when entering it and exiting the stall. I don’t why was she there-“

“to withdraw all the moneys from her shared account and the private one.”

Hongjoong raised his brows at San, “why do you think so?”

“Amy showed me all the past transactions from her side. She might not have withdraw all the money in person but has transferred to some other accounts.” He signalled Yeosang to open his laptop and the one was quick in action, “Can you search the accounts that are connected with hers where the money got transferred?”

Yunho scanned the room, “but why did she need such large amount of money? I am pretty sure she would have told one of us if she was in trouble.”

Seonghwa nodded and walked towards the wide large glass window and stared at the city. He was trying to find your location in the chaos of the city, his eyes were roaming everywhere as if he could get a glimpse of you. He was behaving like a lost boy desperate for you to hug him. Maybe he was a the second in command after the most feared mafia leader, Hongjooong--- in the end it’s you with whom they are the real persons, they can be themselves. Tears flowed down his eyes and he didn’t notice that Wooyoung was standing behind him and suddenly patted his back. He himself was fighting the urge not to break down.

Hongjoong glanced at them across the room and sighed.

Mingi put down his phone and the typing of the keyboard was heard along with some frustrated groans. Jongho spoke up, “San told us that the jewelleries are also missing from her lockers.”

“What? Even her expensive items from her room were also missing.” Hongjoong was surprised that you were missing for so many hours and then all those money and other expensive items were missing too.

Yeosang shut his laptop with a groan and glared at the device. San beside him asked what happened but the news they got was not what they were expecting.

“She has been transferring money for last 6 months and for the last one month, she has spent money on some expensive trips and buying properties. The two accounts where the moneys are being transferred are highly protected with firewalls. I can’t access to it. It only seems like it’s been handled and protected by hackers from other mafia groups.”

Mingi furrowed his brows, “mafia groups? Why will she be transferring money to other mafias?”

Hongjoong pocked his cheek with the tongue, “she doesn’t usually spend such amount of money at once. And according to her schedule, she was pretty much busy with her work-loads.”

“yeah, Amy was always the one asking us if we needed any kind of help and giving us updates on her because she was busy with some events outdoor. Can you give me her schedule for once?”

Yeosang nodded and searched for the schedules Amy sent him and delivered it to Yunho who was quick to open it and read the routines. His creased eyebrows got noticed by Hongjoong, “what happened, Yunho?”

The man shook his head before turning the laptop from Yeosang towards him from across the table and quickly typed something. Everyone was watching his actions and Jongho was peeking at the screen from beside him, “why are you searching these companies?”

Hongjoong raised his hand to let him do his work. After a couple of minutes, Yunho clenched his jaw and shut the screen before turning towards the leader, “I was right.”

“what?”

“these companies: first FACT CHECK enterprise didn’t have any events because they were overseas with us, next ORANGE FATE didn’t held any events for last few weeks and SEVENTEEN has no updates. This only means she didn’t have anything according to her schedules and some same schedules are repeated again and again. Without getting anything solved, everything is appearing to be more puzzled.”

Jongho patted Yunho’s back and turned towards the leader, “we should call Amy and ask her.” The leader nodded and Mingi quickly dialled her number to ask her come to their room. Seonghwa and Wooyoung also returned to their places and waited for her.

As soon as Amy got the call, she skipped towards the room and entered the door with a worried expression. The boys looked at her and noticed her worriedness but Hongjoong asked her not to panic and let her sit on the chair beside Yeosang where you were supposed to sit in other times.

She sat on your chair.

She smirked to herself. Second step achieved, including her in the meetings. First step was already going pretty well when they were calling from overseas to know the daily updates of their place from her---apparently you were busy.

Sitting down slowly, she clasped her hands and Yunho noticed her heavy breaths. They all turned towards the leader when he spoke up, “where were you all these days?”

She bit her lips and tugged her hair behind her ear. She nervously glanced at everyone when Jongho offered her a glass of water. She thanked him and quickly gulped it down, taking few breaths she proceeded, “I-I was working here in the office and then keeping you all updated.”

“where was she? You were not with her?”

“y-yeah I was with her but only when she was inside the building. She was always busy outside.”

“where did she go?”

“the events. I don’t know anything in details because everyday she was late to office, complaining that how tired she is and then going out frustrated. Trust me, I thought you all should know about it because why she will tell me anything.”

“do you know why she needed money? Was she in trouble?”

She paused before glancing at them and then looked down, “n-no. I don’t know. If this was known by me. I would have told you all about it.” She started sobbing and looked up, “I am worried for her. I hope you all find her soon and I will get my friend back.”

Yeosang patted her back and everyone felt bad seeing her cry because she was really close with you and you enjoyed her company so much that they could feel her loneliness and concern when you were missing. She excused herself and Jongho went with her because they didn’t want others to know about the situation yet and she needed someone by her side because of her being oversensitive.

The next two weeks they had done everything possible to reach your location but you were nowhere as if your presence was vanished from the universe. There were no sign of kidnapping because there was no call from any mafia groups, no threats from any rivals and everything was normal and in place without you. It seemed like you never existed but yeah, the employees started asking about your absence and that led to them getting hold of the reality. The news was quick to spread everywhere, to every corner of the city.

Amy became closer to them and she was handling all your works. Them consulting few things with her, of course it was a great achievement for her. At some point, some members were losing hope to find you and becoming reckless. The leader was having a hard time in controlling them but he knew the emotions and conditions of his family because he was on the same boat.

With the passing of days, the chances of getting you back was disappearing and one more thing they were noticing, the strange behaviour of Amy. She was often seen zoning out and flinching to sudden people. They realised she was very traumatized with your disappearance. But a sudden parcel flipped everything upside-down.

Amy was sitting down with the parcel in front of her on the table and them scattered all around the room. Some were in disbelief and some were furious. She was crying and with shaky hands holding and looking at the things which they found out from the parcel.

The leader was hovering on her from the side and glaring, “Amy, What are you hiding from us? Tell me now before I lose my patience.”

She kept quiet and staring at the pictures. You were laughing with a boy, receiving gifts from him, partying at a club with him and kissing and also, you were on a trip for a week with him. It was definitely you, there was no editing and the details were pointing out that you were really not present at home or at office on those days and it only made it clear that there was lot going on behind their back.

“Amy! Speak up!”

She flinched and wiped the tears.

“she was meeting this boy everyday.”

The boy was familiar to them, Lee Heesung from Orange Fate Limited. They often had meetings and events with them. They were not on a term of rivals but were on an agreement of allies because of their head departments.

Seonghwa said darkly, “Continue.” San clenched his fist with every words coming from her mouth.

“she told me not to say you all anything that she was……she was cheating behind you all. She was with you because you all are too naïve that you trust her so much. She threatened me that she would kill me if I go against her. I couldn’t do anything because you all would have never trusted me but I tried to tell you so many times. I am only explaining everything today because its been a month that she has gone missing. But actually, she was planning to run away for a while.” She started weeping and Mingi comforted her. He was hesitant to be so close to her but why he should feel guilty when you didn’t think twice before doing such a thing to them.

They were sick worried for you only to get a parcel, maybe from their ally base that you were with their leader all these times. Yunho scoffed hearing the explanation and Jongho glanced at him before sighing and switched on his lock screen where he was hugging you from behind and both smiling at Yeosang who was behind the camera clicking the picture. A tear drop fell on the screen, just above your face.

He hated himself for missing you.

Mingi took her outside because she was scared and blabbering nonsense and was convincing them that she would bring you back and make you apologize. She explained everything how you were not busy due to workload but because you were going out with your boyfriend. The rage was building inside them with the thought that what more you had done with him other than kissing behind their back. All these past months when you were intimated with them, actually you were just using them as a stress reliever and maybe you were complaining about them to Heesung when you were making love with him.

Yeosang curled his fingers, nails scratching the leather of the chair’s armrest.

Woooyung asked his leader, “Are we going to bring her back? We going to-“

“We are going nowhere. She is not our concern anymore. If she chose to go away, to find love in someone else then let it be.” San growled.

Wooyoung shook his head and with pleading eyes he stared at the leader. He wanted to hear his thoughts and he was sure he won’t agree with San but he was wrong.

“No more discussion on y/n. she was not missing but enjoying her life.” He scoffed, “I wanted to believe that these all are wrong but no. it had to be true. Why had it to be true? She betrayed us. She played with out trust. There is nothing to keep up with this conversation.”

He leaned back into his chair and ordered everyone to leave. They were hesitant to leave because each one of them were sure that if they went off to their individual ways, they would end up doing something worse. But why should they harm themselves? It was you who betrayed them and then ended up breaking their hearts.

If someone had to regret, IT’s You.

Seonghwa halted at the door and looked back towards the leader who was glaring at your picture on the wall, “are you sure we are not going to get her?”

“Never. We are not going to trust her again. Let’s pretend we never met her. And Leave.”

Days went on and turned into months and they all were emotionless as if they only knew their missions and going back home, commanding others and then going back to their own life. No extra conversation with anyone. They even became distant among themselves and Amy was enjoying this a lot because afterall she was the who was spending most of the times with them, delivering the messages and information to them and their individual opinions to each other via her.

Jongho knocked at the leader’s bedroom door. It was noon and none of them went to office building, only Seonghwa went for an hour to check the updates and returned early. Everybody was at home but in their individual room, Jongho glanced at the door between Yunho and Wooyoung’s room. It was locked. In other times, he would often find music blasting from your room and then finding you dancing like a maniac.

“what do you need?”

“the medical kit is empty and I need to treat Yeosang’s wound from yesterday.”

“the ones in the cabinets in the upper rack?”

“nothing.”

Hongjoong sighed and pull off a jacket before exiting his room and signalled him to follow.

“where are we going?”

He stopped and glared, “of course to the base hospital. I definitely know other hospitals will freak out seeing us.” Jongho nodded to his statement and followed him.

Arriving to the hospital, they straight way went to the cabin where its pretty usual for them to appear often.

"Hongjoong?" The said man stopped in his track on hearing someone called him.

It was their rival gang NCT’s member standing in front of him. They never had anything against each other but they were allies with someone who was apparently their enemy.

"Mark. What are you doing here?" Jongho asked in a monotone voice to which the boy before him licked his lips.

"Dude don't think I'm here for any sort of mission. I work here as a part time worker like my leader forced us to keep a normal citizen profile as well, might help us in some ways."

"Why are you saying all these to us? I'm sure your leader won't be happy to see you being friendly with us." Hongjoong smirked.

Mark nodded and glanced at his surroundings expression turning towards them, "I didn't know y/n was in relationship with you all."

"What are you trying to say?"Jongho inquired him and he sighed.

"Hongjoong I heard that you guys were searching y/n but I didn't know how to reach to you guys because my leader strictly told me not to contact any one of you."

"What are you upto?"

"Do you know what happened to her?"

Hongjoong scoffed and glared at him, "don't interfere in our matters. It's all over between us and her so I would like you to get the fuck out of my way."

"So you trusted some bitch?" now it's Mark who was glaring.

"What do you mean?"

Mark held his wrist and dragged him towards a room. "what are you doing?"

"Please come with me. It's for your own sake."

Both of them hesitantly followed him and when he opened the door, they were greeted by the worst view. Their breathing stopped for a moment, they froze with the time. It felt like they were dreaming and oblivious to himself, Jongho stepped forward towards the bed.

IT’s You.

You were sleeping peacefully on the bed.

"What happened to her?" Hongjoong was holding back his tears and clenched his fist. Tears welped in his eyes. He was shocked to see you lying in front of him on a hospital bed with a white sheet covering your body and you were connected to the machines beside you. His eyes followed the bandages wrapped in different places which were visible to his eyes. He didn’t want to think anymore about it. He was clenching his fist that all these months he blamed you and thought that you betrayed them was just to find you in the hospital.

Did Heesung hurt you?

“She is comatose for last few months.” Mark stated, eyes fixed on you.

Hongjoong was glaring at you. Atleast at this moment he thought had it better if you were somewhere enjoying your life rather than being in coma.

Jongho who was kneeling beside your bed caressed your hand, “Why? Why is she in this condition?”

“That day when I was returning from the mission, she stumbled in front of my car. Dude she is not here because of that, I was not driving. Me and my friend were just chatting by the side of the road when she came to us running frantically. She was so scared and covered in blood.” Mark licked his lips and shook his head when he remembered the day.

“who are you? Why did you help her?” the leader asked the question but didn’t glance to his direction.

“I know it’s weird but we are childhood friends. After I joined the mafia gang and for the sake of my leader, I had to keep distance with her so that she might not get in trouble with this dark life but somehow she ended up with you all.” He sadly chuckled.

He continued, “I searched about her when I brought her to the hospital. I found out that she was related to you all and the first thought that came to my mind was that you did this to her. But then when I found that you all are searching for her, I was confused for a while but then gradually came to know the truth. Somebody has tortured her and her body was lacking nutrients and due to the deficiency of iron, she got a stroke.”

“torture? Who did this?” the leader was losing his patient with each word coming out his mouth.

“when I brought her here, she was conscious for few days. Yeah, I strictly told others that they should not let anyone to know about her and Johnny is her doctor. She was repeating some things like ‘Amy please don’t do this’ ‘I want to go home’ ‘help me’ ‘I will go away but please don’t hurt me’. according to the reports she is in vegetative state right now, she got a stroke when one day she was thrashing around things.”

A ring interrupted their conversation. Hongjoong was lost with your view and the words from Mark were sinking inside him. He was still processing that you were in front of him and on top of that, you were in a miserable state.

Somebody tortured you? Amy?

Mark broke his trance and urged him to pick up the call.

“where are you? We need to treat the wound and there is nothing in here.”

“Seonghwa, come to the base hospital and bring others too.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just do what I said. You will know when you reach here.”

“I think hearing some familiar voices or maybe something that can trigger the stimuli can bring her back to senses so I hope for the best. She is attentive to some responses and you all are my last hope.”

Mark patted his back and excused himself. He ordered some guards outside the door not to allow anyone inside the room except few members whom he will be sending soon.

Hongjoong stepped forward and with slow steps, he sat beside your bed. His shaky hands caressed your head, tears fell on you when he planted a kiss on your forehead. Jongho was still holding your hand on the other side and was watching your slow breathings.

“y/n……please wake up.” Hongjoong’s voice cracked and he didn’t know what to say anymore. He was angry, upset, hurt and moreover, he was dying inside. He couldn’t afford to see you in that condition.

They waited for a while. They were whispering so many things and tears flowing down their eyes continuously. They were lost after seeing your condition. The leader was confused that why someone had to treat you in this way when you did nothing in the first place. He was feeling to rip off the machines from you so that he could hug you and shield you from all the negativities that might be lingering around you.

The door slammed open and several footsteps could be heard entering the room when suddenly all the sounds paused.

“y/n?” Wooyoung was quick to run towards your sleeping figure, he pushed aside his leader and hugged your body, resting himself on top of you. He was excited but also confused after seeing you in that condition.

You were laying pale and fragile upon a sterile hospital bed. Concern etched deep lines of worry upon their faces as they gathered around you, their hearts heavy with fear and uncertainty.

Seonghwa glanced at you and then towards Hongjoong who was not even taking off his eyes from you. “what is this Hongjoong? Why is she here?”

He didn’t reply and when he turned towards Jongho, he stood up to give space to Mingi so that he could stand beside your bed. The youngest was not willing to leave your hand but still others needed to see you as well so he stepped towards Seonghwa, “she is in coma for last few months. Somebody had kept her locked up and tortured her.”

“what?” San glared at him. “what are you saying, Jongho? Who?”

“I don’t know-“

“Amy.” Hongjoong stated the name blankly and stared at Seonghwa. “Are you sure?”

“she was scared of her before she went into coma so that only proves she has something to do with her.”

Wooyoung’s grip tightened around you. Yeosang was beside him who was trying to comfort him but also wishing for you to wake up. He couldn’t believe his eyes that you were in front of him. He could feel your skin against his fingertips. Your faint breathing could be heard and it was the only hope, the only belief that you were with him, with them.

Yeosang caressed your hand and pressed a soft kiss, “y/n, look we are here. Wake up. We all are here to protect you. No one can hurt you. Please look at me, y/n .” he started sobbing and buried his face into the hold where your fingers were getting wet with his tears.

Mingi caressed your head, “y/n… we are here to take you home, doll. Please open your eyes. Try to hear my voice I am here.”

Wooyoung traced his fingers over the bandages and the healing cuts on your face. The beautiful face, the soft skin which always felt amazing against his and he never missed a place to kiss every inch of it. Now its all covered with cuts and bandages. “baby please wake up. Please look at me, talk to me.”

Three of them were crying surrounding you and the rest of them closely behind them were hoping to see your eyes fluttering open and to tell them what you went through. They were cursing themselves for once believing that you left and betrayed them.

They were hating themselves for believing that.

Yeosang pulled back Wooyoung and both of them sat on the couch to the side, the younger one was sobbing in his hold. Hongjoong nodded towards Seonghwa and the older one sat on the stool beside your head and held your hand, the leader stood behind him.

“y/n…can you hear me? Love we are all here for you. Look we found you.” Seonghwa gulped the lump, smiled sadly and continued, “We will get through this together. You need to wake up for me.” Hongjoong placed a hand on his shoulder to encourage him to keep going.

San moved forward, he was observing things from a distance and was silently praying all the Almighty to wake you up, to do a miracle so that he could see your eyes and smile again. Mingi stepped back to give him space and he kneeled beside you and took your hand in his trembling ones, the needles from the iv-drip and other machines piercing your skin and he was holding back the urge to rip that off because it might be hurting you. “Y/n……”

“I can't bear to see you like this. Please, wake up...please…I love you so much" he mumbled and planted a kiss on the knuckles.

“you need to see yourself. You are strong enough to come all these ways alone. You can fight more. You are no more alone, we are here for you.” Seonghwa pronounced every word distinctly so that you could hear them, understand him and atleast process slowly that you were not alone but surrounded by your loved ones. Your family.

Jongho slowly said to them, “Mark told us if we trigger a memory then she might wake up. She is responsive to some stimuli earlier. I don’t know what to do but please do something and wake her up. If not then she will be under more risk.”

“No! she won’t.” Wooyoung shouted and again stood beside you, “y/n, don’t give up on us like this. You cant leave us. I wont be able to live if I lose you. Wake up please.”

Yeosang stood beside him, voice cracking “ you are our heart y/n. just tell me what you need, I will do anything for you but don’t leave me please.”

Hongjoong gulped, “Y/n…remember the day we met, those happy moments which we cherish. I still think about them everyday even after the day you were missing. Please we have so much to do in our life. We love you.”

Mingi’s voice wavered, “We'll be here for you every step of the way, I'll fight this battle with you, y/n. Together, as one...nine makes one family.”

Your index finger moved a little in San’s hold. He was surprised, his breath hitched. He looked towards everyone but others gave him a confused look. he was smiling and holding your hand tightly and glancing between you and them.

“guys she can hear us. Her finger is moving.” His gaze landed on the last one who haven’t said anything after they had arrived. He was fuming but crying and San knew that he could do anything if he was quiet. “Yunho…”

The sterile white walls of the hospital room surrounded him, the heavy air which he breathing was filled with different emotions. But the only emotion that was tugging in every corner was the faint ray of hope.

Hope for you to wake up.

Hearing his name, slow and heavy steps took him to your side. Seonghwa who was still whispering some old happy memories paused and moved back a bit. Yunho stared at your face. The memory of you smiling at him and laughing at his jokes. You acting like a baby and always promising that he would protect you like your big saviour. But he didn’t. he broke his promise. He left you alone to fight and then you were fighting with your death.

He will kill every person who did this with you.

“Y/n, You're my reason to keep going. I…we won't let you go. Stay with me. I love you, Pearl.”

The familiar voices echoing inside your head.

Their voices.

Your family.

Nine makes one family.

You clutched San’s hand but quickly loosened the grip. You repeated the action. Their eyes not leaving a second of your form. Your dry lips parted slightly to seep through some air. The oxygen mask felt like suffocating the air.

Slowly, like tendrils of fog dissipating under the morning sun, consciousness began to seep back into your mind.

Your eyelids fluttered, heavy with the weight of slumber, as you struggled to orient yourself to the surroundings. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor echoed in their ears, a steady cadence that anchored all to the present moment.

With a groan, you attempted to shift your body, the sensation of stiffness and lethargy weighing you down like an anchor. Your limbs felt foreign, disconnected from the mind, as if you were a marionette being manipulated by invisible strings. Few deep cuts and wounds stinged, you whimpered at the pain.

As your vision cleared, you became aware of the figures standing by your bedside, silhouettes bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights. their faces had masks of concern as they observed your awakening. You couldn’t place the names with the faces.

Who are they? Do you know them? Why are you here? Wait…where are you?

You twisted your neck to every direction, an air of suffocation engulfing you and the memory of being locked up, bloods, wounds, cut and crying flashed in front of your eyes.

“baby…” Seonghwa’s voice made you look at him. Your eyes were filled with horror. They will hurt you again. An adrenaline hit you which made you feel to run away and save yourself. You were trapped and you needed to get out. You got rid of the oxygen mask.

“no…no…please don’t kill me…I..” you pushed yourself up, groaning because you felt your lethargic body was heavy with tons of weight, you wanted to move but still couldn’t. you started crying and retreated your hand back when you felt someone was holding it. San left your hand when he saw fear in your eyes. You were confused, scared and tired but still attempted to make a run.

Wooyoung’s voice choked with emotion, “baby you are awake…” you shook your head and twisted your body but Yunho was quick to make you still and you groaned when the wound in your waist sent a wave of pain throughout your body.

“please…leave me…I want to go home please…” you were crying and wiggling weakly under his hold.

Yunho was standind straight and engulfing your upper body tightly in his hold to let you cry and shout but he couldn’t let you go away when surprisingly he got you back from the edge of death, “shh shhh…Y/n, don’t cry please. I am here. No one is going to hurt you.”

Seonghwa patted your head, “we are going to take you home.”

“no…no…they they are waiting for me. Joong…I want to go to him…Hwa…Woo…please please.”

“baby, I am Woo. I’m right here.” You glanced at him. a memory of you fooling around and laughing with him flashed in front of him.

You shook your head and Yunho pushed your head against his chest and placed a kiss on top, “it’s me, Yunho. Love calm down.”

When you didn’t stop shaking, he held your face and made you look into his eyes, he was holding back his tears and still smiled at you, “I am here. Right in front of you. You are safe with me. Your Yuyu is with you.”

You stared at him and your actions slowed down. He shifted and sat on the edge and pulled you closer. “Yunho…” hearing his name from your mouth, he pulled you closer and caressed your sides, lulling you to calm down.

“yes, it’s me. we all are here.”

San placed himself on the other side edge of the bed to caress your back. Even though, they were sad seeing you vulnerable but somehow a relief settled inside them that you were awake. You were with them.

“Calm down for me. will you?”

Hearing his soothing voice, you clutched his shirt. Your tears were soaking it but he didn’t care about that, he just wanted you to not feel scared of them.

They knew it was a burden for you to take in your surrounding after waking up from coma after months. You took deep breaths and he could feel your trembling body calming down.

“Y/n. How are you feeling?” Hongjoong’s concerned voice echoed in the air, reaching your ears. Several nights you spent calling out his name, hoping for him to save you but you were alone. Your mind slowly and slowly settling down and you got a grip of your current situation.

You looked down to see yourself wrapped in a hospital gown.

You were in hospital.

“paining. It’s paining everywhere.” You mumbled and stared at Hongjoong. He stepped forward and softly cupped your face, giving you a warm smile.

“it will go away. You will be fine soon.” He kissed your forehead. Seonghwa stood beside him with a bright smile, his presence itself was giving you a blanket of comfort adding to the warmth from Yunho was hugging you.

Hwa nodded and removed the strand of hairs from your face and tugged them neatly behind your ears, “my pretty baby. Do you need something?”

You moved your head up and down slowly, he urged you to speak, “I..I want water.” He didn’t waste a second, quickly turning on his heel, walked towards the table to get a glass of water. You felt your throat was burning dry and you coughed.

San patted your back, “its okay. Take it slow. You are fine.”

Hongjoong wiped your eyes, “don’t cry, baby. We are here for you. Always.”

Wooyoung sat beside your legs and ran his hands up and down above the blanket. Even though he couldn’t feel your skin against his but he knew you were fine and with him.

You stared at him when Seonghwa gave you the glass, you gulped the water hastily. You coughed when you choked. Yunho and Seonghwa softly scolded you not to rush. Your gaze returned towards Wooyoung, you extended your hand and he intertwined his fingers with yours. Tears fell from your eyes. “you are really here...”

“Yes I am. For you.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong moved aside to let Mingi and Yeosang in front of your view. They were trying their best to appear happy but they knew with just a blink, you would see them all breaking down. Mingi kissed your nose and gave you a tight hug, “do you want to eat?”

“I don’t know. I want to…go home.” You turned towards Yunho, “please take me home. I don’t want to stay here.” He nodded and wiped your eyes, “shh…we will go okay. We are waiting for the doctor to allow the discharge for you.”

Yeosang cupped your face to bring your attention on him, “we are going to watch movies and we will play tag game. How about that?”

You smiled and their heart melted seeing the small curled up lips, “yes. I would love that but I’m feeling so weak.”

Wooyoung chimed in, “You have to eat a lot to become strong and then we will watch movies and discuss your favorite things. You have to show us your favorite stories.”

Hongjoong chuckled, “You cant make her do that even now. She will still run after you because she always do her best to hide the things she read. But I’m curious too.”

Mingi raised his brows and nodded, “those are in English so even if I get a hold of it. I don’t know how to read them.”

Jongho laughed lightly, “deliver them to me. I will let you know about it.”

Seonghwa shook his head and laughed. The atmosphere was becoming lighter than before and they were glad that you were smiling with them. Jongho kissed your nose, “you need to walk more or you will feel more weak. But you should rest until the wounds are getting better.”

You nodded.

You were always an independent and hardworking woman and that’s how they got attracted to you. Every on the point decisions and single handedly and actively managing lots of works was never a small deal for anyone but they saw you doing it and they were impressed. When you got the offer to join the company, you didn’t know it belonged to a mafia base but what to do, when they told you about it, you were already in love with them. They were always honest with you and respected and even treated you like a queen. Their queen.

But today, seeing you so weak and vulnerable like a baby was breaking their heart into million pieces. You were hurt, you were scared and traumatized.

A groan escaped your lips when you shifted in your place and Yeosang made you still and Yunho helping you to sit properly, leaning your back to his chest. You turned towards San who was quite all these moments. He was still sitting on the bed close to you and rubbing his hands up and down your body. He wanted to feel you, to make himself belief that he was not dreaming but it’s the reality.

Yeosang with concerned eyes looked towards you and asked, “Are you okay? Where is it hurting?”

San urged you to speak, “tell us baby. Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

Yeosang, the medic of the group knew he had to take care of you more after returning back home. Yunho massaged your side and it did wonder to relieve some tensions.

Your gaze fell on San’s hand, it was bandaged. Your eyes went wide and you looked towards others to scan them. Why are they hurt? You couldn’t find anything visible on Wooyoung, not even on Jongho but when you watched Yeosang fishing his hand inside the jacket’s pocket. You quickly grabbed it and caressed the bandaged palm. You didn’t notice it earlier.

“Why are you hurt? What happened?”

He shook his head, “nothing major.”

Your other hand grabbed San’s wounded one, “does it hurt?”

“no baby. Calm down. Getting hurt during missions is pretty normal.”

“don’t normalize these things. I don’t want you all to get hurt.” San hugged your side. “I’m sorry…”

“why?” his whisper fanned your ears, tickling you lightly.

Hongjoong frowned, “why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong, y/n.”

“but I am here…”

Wooyoung placed a finger on your lips, “don’t speak. That’s not your fault. You are safe and talking with us. That’s what we want right now.”

Seonghwa patted your head before announcing, “I am going to talk with her doctor…what was the name again?”

Jongho stated, “Johnny.”

“ah yes him. so Mingi and Jongho come along with me, we need to take some medical equipment as well.”

The two nodded and followed behind him before them sending smiles towards you. Your eyes followed them until they closed the door behind them.

“San…”

“hmm… tell me.”

“I don’t want to go to that office building. And you did got some pictures, right?”

Before he could reply Hongjoong interrupted, “no we are not going there anytime soon.” You nodded.

San furrowed his brows, “what pictures?”

“me and Heesung…”

Yunho pulled you closer if its even possible, “why? Why are you asking?”

“do you all trust that? I mean the pictures are real but…”

“but?” Hongjoong just needed some truth and the plannings he already made inside his head would be in action. “tell me y/n.”

“I was drugged and didn’t know what he did. Amy…she used me to get to get you all. She forced me to transfer money, to meet him, and so on. But trust me I didn’t want to do anything. I wanted you all. I wanted to go home. I still want to go far away with you all.”

“calm down, Y/n. we are not speaking about those things right now.” Yeosang shushed you and Hongjoong clenched his jaw.

He is going to kill her. He is going to torture her till the day she dies of blood loss. He wants to rip her heart out. Does she even have one? He mentally scoffed. He caught Yunho and San staring at him. they both smirked when they saw the leader was fuming.

The leader showed his dirty smirk towards them. They knew the hell was going to break loose for someone.

Seonghwa called Yeosang and asked him to tell others to take you to the car because they got the permission to take you home as Yeosang could manage the rest. He removed the needles and you winced but he was quick to tape the wounds. Wooyoung held your side when you tried to stand up. You felt your head spinning and nauseous hit you. Hongjoong quickly brought a mug in front of your face to let you vomit and Yunho held your hairs in a ponytail and patting your back, encouraging you to take it easy and you will be okay. Yeosang wiped your mouth with wet tissues and San swept you off the ground.

“you are not walking anymore. You need to rest and your limbs are still too weak to make you stand strong even for a second.”

You didn’t argue because you yourself were aware of your condition. As soon as you all left the room, people moved aside seeing the mafia group carrying a girl in their arms. Some had sympathetic look and some with curiosity whispering to each other. You felt awkward under the gazes and you buried your face in his chest. His laugh vibrated in your face and you could hear others chuckled.

Wooyoung ruffled your hairs, “silly.”

Reaching the parking lot, the others were already there. The fresh air hit your face, feeling lively and Seonghwa came in front, “are you okay?”

“I want to stay outside. Please.” You were whining like a baby in san’s arms.

One by one they all entered the car and you were laying with your head resting on Seonghwa’s lap and legs placed over San’s thigh. You pout when they didn’t acknowledge your request. Jongho stared at you, “what happened?”

“I said I wanted to stay outside.”

“didn’t you want to go home?”

You sighed and closed your eyes. Yes, you wanted to return home.

Hongjoong laughed from the passenger seat and Yunho spoke up, “we are going to the beach in front of our house. We will have our lunch there and spend the evening there as well.”

Your eyes fluttered open, “really?”

“yes.” Mingi assured you and joked to make you laugh.

San stroked your legs, “you are our home, y/n. I love you.”

Even if you wanted to go to the house, your home. It’s fine. Wherever they are, its your home.

They are your home.

“you guys are my home too. My world.”

[thanks for loving the ot8 fics anon <3. I hope you liked this one.]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn [open!]

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