#just something i need to keep a better eye on
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Getting You Alone Isnât Easy
summary: two reckless lovers, one ill-timed call, and zero chance of stopping
warnings: suggestive but not explicit
a/n: the length of time it took me to decide on a title for this was painful
word count: 1.5k
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Youâre draped over Alexia, straddling her in the faint, golden light that sneaks through the blinds. Her hands grip your hips in that familiar way, like youâre the last thing keeping her from floating off. Youâre gasping, breathless, clinging to the taut warmth of her body beneath you as though the world is ending and this is your only way to stay grounded. Her hands, usually gentle, are digging in hard enough to leave bruises, but sheâs sweet like that, knows exactly when you need to feel it. You can almost picture the bruises theyâll leave behind, thumbprints like violet ink smudged across your skin, each one a reminder that she was here, and that she wanted you badly enough to leave a mark.
Itâs been a day, one of those long ones that started with a sun-blinded hangover, progressed into a searing headache, and thenâonce you forced yourself to actually acknowledge the calls you missed last nightâmoved rapidly toward near apocalyptic levels of panic.
Somewhere between the drink you had to âtake the edge offâ and the fourth one you drank without even thinking about it, Alexia texted you, and it felt like a solution, or maybe a distraction, though those two things are the same to you most of the time.
So here you are, in the thick of it, your bodies wrapped around each other, your mind slipping into that strange, dreamlike state where it feels like your skin isnât your own. Everythingâs heightenedâher touch, her scent, the whisper of her breath on your neck. Youâre right at the edge, teetering, and thenâ
Your phone rings.
Of course it fucking does.
At first, you ignore it. The vibrating hum is muffled against the sheets, barely noticeable above your own heartbeat, but then it rings again, louder this time, insistent. Itâs like a drill sergeant at dawn, determined to ruin whatever peace youâd managed to find. You freeze, eyes half-closed, but Alexiaâs hands donât loosen. Sheâs looking up at you with an expression thatâs half bemused, half annoyed, as if sheâs only just managed to convince herself that youâre here, and now youâre about to ruin it with some petty, buzzing bit of reality.
You almost get through it, on the cusp letting it go to voicemail or hurling the damn thing into the bottom of your Birkin where it belongs. But something in youâa survival instinct, maybeâforces you to reach for it, fumbling as you do so. Alexiaâs eyes follow your hand, then flick back up to yours with an exasperated look that says, Really? Now?
You manage to grab it without rolling entirely off her, though itâs a close call. Her hands move down to your waist, still holding you in place as you glance at the screen, and of course, itâs George. Itâs always George. You swear he has some kind of sixth sense, an uncanny ability to detect the exact moment youâve slipped into some semblance of happiness, so he can yank you back with some catastrophe or another. The man is a walking interruption.
âDonât,â Alexia murmurs, pulling you back to the matter at hand, her voice soft but firm, her hands slipping up to your ribs with a kind of slow, determined patience. But you know better. If you donât answer now, heâll only call back five more times, and each time, heâll sound more panicked, until he finally leaves you a voice note thatâs somehow worse than the call itself.
âI have to,â you mutter, as you answer, attempting to clear your throat and sound like you werenât just seconds away from giving in to everything she was doing to you.
âHello?â you say, trying and failing to keep the breathlessness out of your voice.
Georgeâs voice crackles through the speaker, shrill and brimming with that particular brand of theatrical urgency agents reserve for âcrises.â He sounds faintly nasal, the sort of voice you imagine would belong to a man with an allergy to anything fun. You imagine him sitting in his cold, grey office somewhere in Soho, every surface immaculate and white, his expression permanently fixed into a grimace of perpetual disappointment.
âYou need to sit down,â he says, voice pitched in that âIâm barely holding it togetherâ tone that never actually means anything good.
âI am sitting,â you manage, though it comes out sounding more like a gasp than anything else, because AlexiaâGod bless herâis now trailing her lips along the column of your throat, completely unbothered by the fact that youâre very much occupied now. In fact, youâre convinced sheâs doing this on purpose, her eyes meeting yours with that devilish glint that says sheâs fully aware of what sheâs doing. You pull back and give her a lookâpart warning, part exasperationâbut she only grins, slowly, like sheâs daring you to keep up the charade.
George doesnât miss a beat. âThere are photos,â he says, each syllable dripping with an ominous weight that would make anyone else think he was delivering news of a tragedy.
âPhotos?â you ask, as Alexiaâs hand slips a little higher, her fingers just grazing the edge of your panties. Youâre barely holding it together, biting down hard on your lip to keep from making a sound. âGeorge, there are always photos. What are you on about?â
He sighs, the kind of exasperated sigh he reserves for when heâs forced to explain the intricacies of your own life to you. âNot just any photos,â he says, voice dropping to a whisper that somehow makes everything sound worse. âThese are⊠explicitâ
âExplicit?â you repeat, your voice catching because Alexiaâs lips are trailing across your collarbone now, her fingers dangerously close to places that make it impossible to sound remotely professional. âDefine explicit, Georgeâ
He pauses, a beat of silence so thick with hesitation you can practically see his nervous, tight-lipped expression. âYou and Alexia. On that yacht. Full-on⊠everything. Letâs just say someone with a very long-range lens took a rather extensive interest in your⊠activitiesâ
It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do, itâs like being doused in cold water. Youâre suddenly hyper-aware of everythingâthe sweat on your skin, Alexiaâs fingers toying with you, her mouth now having moved to the swell of your exposed breast. You canât tell if youâre more annoyed or amused by the fact that, somehow, your most private moments have once again become public property.
Alexia looks up at you once more, eyes glinting with something between curiosity and enjoyment, as if she can tell exactly what George is saying and finds the whole thing hilarious.
âSo youâre telling me,â you say, trying to sound casual, though itâs hard with Alexiaâs hands and mouth all over you, âthat someone out thereâs publishing wildlife documentaries of my sex life?â
âDonât be flippant,â George snaps, though his voice cracks a little, like heâs barely holding it together. âThis is serious. The Daily Mail already has them. And theyâre⊠well, theyâre explicit. The kind of thing theyâd plaster on the front page if they could get away with itâ
For a moment, you consider the insanity of it allâyour life, reduced to some tawdry tabloid spread, the kind of thing boring nosey housewives read in supermarket queues. You imagine the headlines, the breathless, shocked tones theyâd use to describe âthe scandal.â Never mind the fact that youâre not the first celebrity to get caught like this, nor will you be the last. But still, it stings in that strange, twisted way fame always does, a reminder that your life isnât really your own.
âIâm sorry, George,â you say, barely stifling a moan as Alexiaâs hand moves just right, making it almost impossible to keep up the conversation. âBut I donât exactly have a solution for you right nowâ
George lets out a strangled noise. âWell, you bloody well better come up with one. Unless you want the world to know what you look like without your clothes on. Which, I might add, is not exactly⊠career-friendlyâ
You stifle a laugh, more out of habit than anything else. Alexiaâs fingers are moving with that slow, calculated patience she knows drives you mad, and you can feel your resolve slipping. âLook, George,â you say, your voice strained, âIâll call you back. After I⊠handle thingsâ
âWhat? You canât just hang up on me!â he practically shrieks, but youâre already pressing âend callâ and tossing the phone aside.
The phone lands back somewhere on the bed, Georgeâs panicked voice cutting off abruptly. For a moment, thereâs silence, and then Alexia lets out a low, throaty laugh, her eyes alight with amusement. She reaches her free hand up, trailing her fingers along your jaw, and thereâs something wicked in her smile that makes you forget the world outside the bedroom.
âWhere were we?â you murmur, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that makes you forget everything else.
âRight here,â she whispers, her voice soft but possessive, and you canât help but smile as she pulls you back down, your bodies tangling once more as you lose yourself in her warmth.
#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#fcb femeni#fcb femeni x reader#espwnt#espwnt x reader#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso community
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Planned Fanfics !
ft. platonic/ yandere batfam, superfam, villains, au's & many more!
â Disclaimer! This contains massive spoilers and all my plans for future works that I'll soon publish. This is posted because I wish to update my readers upon the contents of what I'm working to write and for them to leave inputs and whatnot. Sorry for the delays and all, life is hectic and as much as I love writing, I also have a life outside of this site sadly. By the way, this is not even half of my drafts and if anyone is interested in the things written beneath here, then please do tell!
To Be His Child is All I want (A&A, Chapter 5): Confronting Jason, one of your brothers who played a role in neglecting you, and being partly the reason why you ventured out the manor to seek love, away from the unhealthy environment, was no easy task. Back and forths with him, and reasoning why you don't wish to return back 'home' only poured fire into the flames of your already aching heart, as you scream about only wishing to be loved by even a fraction of the compassion Bruce feels for all his other children was all you needed to feel happy in life. It was enough to leave Jason breathless, muddled with emotions he couldn't quite grasp.
As you drown in a seamless fit of arguing and sobbing into the arms of your brother, the manor holds a meeting regarding your sudden disappearance. Bruce is promptly disappointed at Jason's absence; the others are just as intrigued with Dick and Damian's urgency to find you. Yet all are unbeknownst to your plans of escape, and most especially to a certain Kryptonian's scheme to have you in his arms all for himself.
Family Dinner (A&A): Silly, old you can't seem to stomach the fact that they're all looking at you now at the elongated table when months ago you were a mere ghost in their eyes whilst they chatter happily amongst each other. Unfamiliar with how communicating with a family who estranged you works; you end up having a panic attack in the middle of dinner when Damian attempted to hug you.
To Love and To Cherish (Random): Bruce Wayne loves his spouse and everything about them. They're everything desirable in his eyes and he couldn't help the urges that keeps him running back to you every time he patrols to ensure not only the safety of Gotham, but for the sake of his growing plans to fully integrate you as a full-time house spouse. The problem Bruce faces, though, is that he's not actually married to you, yet, and you're unaware of his prying eyes on your form as you live alone in your shabby apartment.
Flowers on My Grave (A&A, Hanahaki AU): Flowers don't only bloom inside your lungs when you're rejected by someone you love romantically, they can also manifest through platonic love unrequited. Vomiting a bouquet of yellow carnations and an arraw of purple and blue hyacinths, you set to sever the bond of love you once felt for them once and for all.
Cold House, Lone Spouse (Loving Family, Unpalatable Desire): You come home from Clark's farm to sleep in your own room to make sure nobody suspects a thing; expecting to power through the pain of loneliness in your room. But you end up waking up to Bruce's body pressed against your back and his arms caging you, unrelenting in its pursuit to make sure you never seek out another man's hold again.
Once Your Son, Always Your Son (Loving Family, Unpalatable Desire): Your routine with your beloved son, Jon, leaves nothing else to be desired as you set about your usual nightly schedule of helping him clean up, fix his bed, and read him bedtime storiesâ something you've grown accustomed to love naturally as being a parent does. But when Damian comes to visit you once Jon falls asleep, he enviously demands you do the same to him and to return to the manor where a better family is waiting for you.
The Confrontation (Loving Family Unpalatable Desire): Clark's night with you always ends up with him hovering above your body, kissing all the exposed parts of your skin, and worshipping your body which lays upon his bed every night. It's the perfect fantasy, yet it's promptly shattered when he sees the familiar silhouette of his comrade, clad in all black, demanding that Clark returns his spouse back in his arms; as if he's not the very same man who left you all alone that night at the gala, available for taking.
A Father's Strange Case of Gift Giving (A&A): To make it up to you, Bruce tries to spoil you rotten with a bottomless allowance and unrestricted access to all his credit cards. Even a mansion built on your name is built as one of the family's vacation houses. One unsettling fact, though, is Bruce's proficiency of capturing every detail of all things you prefer in such a short span of time after kidnapping you. (i.e. You're unaware of the cameras planted in every corner of your room trying to capture the things that makes you smile).
Mind Games and Mind Control (Brutus): What if it were The Riddler and Scarecrow who saved you from nearly dying? With your emotional reception, and both their wits, you end up stirring more trouble for Gotham's vigilantes. But during times where you've nothing to do but watch as both villains enact upon their master plans, itching to satisfy the ache of bloodlust coursing through your veins, you start to notice the abrupt bouts of energy they exert upon tormenting whoever stares at you (sitting comfortably on a cushioned couch, treated like royalty no less) or talks behind your backâ crazed for your words of approval and praise as if it's not them who are capable enough of controlling you instead.
The Powered, and the Powerless (Random, Romantic Batfam): During the night, they are your city's saviors, the light that shines bright on darkness, the hope that never wavers through moments of fear. Daytime, meanwhile, they're portrayed as a rich, socialite family who donate millions on charity and everything that promotes good costs. Power comes to them naturally, and praise is served to most of them in a silver platter for all their hard work. You can even say their status is akin to that of Gods, except you don't think of them the same way others do; choosing to utilize your immense knowledge of internet safety to publish articles and conspiracies pertaining to each member of the Wayne family through anonymous forums. Yet all this results in their interest in your secret identity.
Fate Unwanted (Random, Soulmate AU): You're a simple person living on the outskirts of an unnamed town on the boundaries of Gotham. Curious on why your parents are protective of you, forcing you to live with countless of strick rules written boldly on paper and plastered on the front of your refrigerator, and why you just can't seem to produce or perceive any soulmate bond; you set out on a mission to find the mysteries of your unmarked soul. Little did you know that the strangers you stumble upon who chose to assist you on your journey, all from every city and every known state, have found their soulmate that they're unwilling to share.
#đ§... yael's misc.#series: again & again#series: loving family unpalatable desires#concept: brutus#yandere dc#yandere dc comics#yandere batfam#yandere superfam#yandere batman#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x darling#platonic yandere#romantic yandere#male yandere#female yandere
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CAN'T CONTROL IT
pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem! Driver! Reader
word count: 739
just something a little short and sweet for franco colapinto. also i think the can't control their mouth and can't control their face would suit him well?! idk bro
The F1 social media team had a new favorite hobby: catching YN's reactions to everything Franco Colapinto did.
It started during pre-season testing in Bahrain. Franco, fresh in his Williams racing suit, had spun on his installation lap â a rookie mistake that had the paddock chuckling. The TV director, whether by instinct or divine intervention, cut immediately to YN in the Alpine garage.
Her expression was poetry in motion: eyes rolling skyward, lips pressed together to suppress a smile, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I can't believe this" and "that's my idiot" in one fluid movement.
The clip went viral within hours.
"Have you seen this?" Franco bounded into the Alpine hospitality area, phone already extended. "'Every Time YN Dies Inside Watching Franco Colapinto: Testing Edition' â they even put sad violin music over your faces!"
YN didn't need to look. She'd already seen the compilation â a masterfully edited collection of her various reactions to Franco's testing adventures. Her personal favorite was the slow-motion zoom on her face when he'd described his first F1 car as "spicy."
"I'm starting to think you do these things on purpose," she muttered, but her treacherous face was already softening at his enthusiasm.
"Maybe I just like seeing your reactions," he winked, dropping into the seat beside her. "Remember in F3 when you said your face wasn't that expressive?"
"Remember in F2 when you said you'd learned to think before speaking?"
His laugh echoed through the hospitality area. "Some things never change, no?"
The Australian GP brought new material for the ever-growing collection of "YN Can't Control Her Face" content. As Alpine's reserve driver, she was in the garage when Franco scored his first F1 points â a remarkable P8 in a chaotic race.
His radio message was pure, unfiltered Franco: "P8! P8! YN, are you watching? Better than that time in F2 when you said I'd never score points because I was too busy talking!"
The cameras found her instantly: pride blooming across her features before she could school them into professional neutrality.
"Every time they show your face, the comments explode," Esteban teased later. "I think you've got more screen time than some of the actual drivers."
YN groaned. "Don't remind me. Someone made a TikTok trend out of my different 'Franco Reactions.'"
"At least you're not 'Can't Control His Mouth' Colapinto," Pierre chimed in. "Did you hear him in the press pen? He spent five minutes explaining how you once bet him he couldn't qualify top 10 without talking on team radio."
"Did he mention he lost that bet?"
"No, but your face when they asked you about it said everything."
Monaco was where things reached new heights. Franco, running in P6 during practice, had been providing commentary that somehow always circled back to YN:
"YN's watching, no? Tell her this is how you take the hairpin properlyâ" Franco spoke through team radio confidently before scraping through the hairpin. "Ah. Maybe not like that."
The camera cuts to YN's perfect face-palm, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I knew it" and "why am I even surprised" in one swift motion.
The resulting clip went viral on Tiktok and became F1's most-watched social media post of the weekend.
"You know what I think?" Franco asked one evening, as they shared takeaway in the quiet of the paddock after everyone else had left. The cameras were finally off, but YN's face was as expressive as ever in the dim light.
"That's a dangerous start to any conversation with you."
He grinned, nudging her shoulder. "I think you like that I can't control my mouth."
"And what makes you say that?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral.
"Because every time I talk about you, you make this face â like you're trying not to smile but can't help it. It's my favorite one."
"I do not have a special face for when you talk about me."
"Si, you do! You're making it right now!"
She threw a napkin at him, but her smile â soft and genuine and completely uncontrolled â gave her away.
The next day, during the drivers' briefing, Alex caught Franco staring at YN with an expression that mirrored all of hers â soft and fond and entirely unguarded.
The photo went viral with the caption: "Looks like neither of them can control anything anymore đ"
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fanfiction#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto fic#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#fc43#f1 imagine#f1 fic#fc43 x reader#fc43 x you#fc43 imagine#williams racing
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What about Norris reader (17) and Oldie and Kimi Antonelli have a crush on her. Lando, ever the overprotectiv brother, doesn't like this and the other drivers use it to their advantage, because they find this really funny. Reader is just clueless and thinks the boys are really sweet to herâ„ïžâ„ïž
Wait, why do I ship these three??
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo, babygirl đ
Two for one
The bustling energy of the Mexican Grand Prix electrified the air as Yn Norris wandered around the paddock, wide-eyed with excitement. Her older brother, Lando, had arranged for her to come along this weekend, and she was thrilled to be there. Being just seventeen, this was one of her first big Grand Prix weekends on her own, without her parents or siblings (except Lando) and she couldn't wait to soak it all in.
As she explored the paddock, she suddenly heard her name being called. Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Kimi and Ollie, both of whom had driven in Free Practice 1 that day.
"Yn! Fancy running into you here," Ollie greeted with a wide grin.
Kimi smirked, giving her a casual wave. "So, what do you think of Mexico so far?"
Yn smiled brightly. "Itâs incredible! Iâm so happy Lando invited me."
"Oh, he invited you, did he?" Kimi asked with a sly grin, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting Lando to pop out of nowhere.
Yn laughed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, but heâs already being overprotective. He thinks I'm going to, like, get lost or something. I just wanted to go look around by myself, but he practically assigned me a bodyguard."
Kimi and Ollie exchanged amused looks. "Well, weâre here now. So, if you need someone to show you around or keep you company, I think we can handle that," Ollie offered.
"Yeah, youâre in good hands, Yn," Kimi added with a wink.
---
A little later, Lando noticed Yn with Kimi and Ollie, and immediately, he felt his older brother senses tingling. He walked up to them with an exaggeratedly casual stride, hands stuffed in his pockets but eyes locked onto Kimi and Ollie.
"Hey, Yn," Lando greeted her, then quickly turned to Kimi and Ollie. "What are you guys up to?"
Ollie raised his hands defensively. "Just chatting with your sister, mate. Nothing serious."
Kimi chimed in, smirking slightly. "Yeah, just giving her some company. It canât be fun to wander around here alone."
Lando narrowed his eyes. "Well, sheâs not alone. Iâm here."
Yn rolled her eyes. "Lando, Iâm fine. You donât have to act like Iâm five."
"Yeah, Lando, sheâs fine," Ollie teased, nudging Landoâs arm. "Besides, it's not like Kimi and I are troublemakers."
Max, who had been watching from nearby, wandered over, grinning as he picked up on the situation. "Oh, looks like little Norris has some admirers."
"Yeah, careful, Lando," Checo joined in, laughing as he walked by. "You know, they say these drivers are charmers. Better keep a close eye on her, or she might run off with them to Yucatan."
Lando scowled, crossing his arms. "Thatâs not funny, guys."
Ollie looked at Yn, feigning a wistful expression. "Yucatan, huh? That could be fun."
Yn rolled her eyes again, laughing. "Ignore them, Ollie. Youâre all acting like children."
Kimi leaned closer to her. "Maybe. But you know, Yucatan does sound like a pretty great idea."
Lando stepped in between them, giving Kimi a warning look. "Donât even think about it, Antonelli."
Kimi laughed, but there was a hint of nervousness. As much as he enjoyed teasing Lando, he could feel Landoâs big-brother protectiveness radiating off him in waves. Still, he couldnât resist pushing a little.
"Relax, Lando," Kimi said, holding up his hands. "Weâre just here to make sure Yn has a good time."
"Under my supervision," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes. He put an arm around Ynâs shoulder. "Youâre staying close to me for the rest of the weekend."
Yn groaned, but Landoâs resolve didnât waver.
---
The next day, Lando was more determined than ever to keep an eye on his sister. Every time Kimi or Ollie got close, heâd swoop in, leading her away or blocking their paths.
Eventually, Pierre caught onto the whole situation and couldnât resist chiming in. "You know, Lando, if you keep this up, youâre going to scare away all her potential boyfriends."
Lando shook his head, exasperated. "Thatâs the plan, Pierre."
Carlos joined the fun, laughing. "Be careful, Lando. Vegas is just around the corner. Blink, and she might end up running off with Kimi or Ollie. Maybe even both."
Ollie, who had overheard, grinned, raising his eyebrows at Yn. "What do you think, Yn? Should we book tickets?"
Yn chuckled. "Oh, please. Lando would probably have a heart attack before we even left the airport."
Lando glared at them. "Iâm serious. You two better not get any ideas, you stinky whankers."
Kimi shrugged, but his smirk didnât fade. "Relax, mate. Weâre just keeping her company."
Charles joined the group, looking thoroughly entertained. "I canât wait for Vegas now. If this is how Lando is in Mexico, Vegas will be legendary. Maybe weâll all get invited to Ynâs wedding."
Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You all are impossible."
---
As the weekend progressed, Kimi and Ollie kept finding small ways to get Ynâs attention. Theyâd save her a seat, bring her snacks, and keep her laughing with stories and jokes. Each time, Lando was there, watching like a hawk.
At one point, Yn turned to him, exasperated. "Lando, seriously. Iâm just hanging out with friends. Can you please relax?"
"I am relaxed," Lando replied, not convincing anyone.
Yn shot him an annoyed look. "Youâre practically breathing down my neck."
Ollie leaned in, whispering, "Told you heâs overprotective."
Kimi chuckled. "Youâre handling it well, though."
Yn laughed, shaking her head. "I think itâs actually you two who are nervous around him."
Both Ollie and Kimi exchanged guilty looks, though they quickly covered it with their usual confident smiles. But every time Lando was around, they seemed to straighten up a little, wary of his watchful eyes.
---
On race day, things hit a peak. Kimi and Ollie had managed to catch Yn alone, and they were chatting animatedly about everything from their goals in racing to funny stories from the paddock. Yn was laughing, completely unaware of the fact that both boys were subtly vying for her attention.
But it didnât take long for Lando to find them, and he wasted no time inserting himself into the conversation.
"Hey, Yn, you ready to come to the garage?" he asked pointedly.
Yn glanced at Kimi and Ollie apologetically. "Duty calls, I guess."
Ollie gave Lando a pleading look. "Come on, Lando. Let her hang out with us for a bit longer."
Lando raised an eyebrow. "Why, so you two can keep flirting with her?"
Kimi flushed, stammering, "W-We werenâtâ"
Yn stared at him in surprise. "Flirting? Seriously, Lando? Weâre just friends."
"Exactly," Lando said, taking her by the arm. "And thatâs all youâre going to be."
Max and Charles, who had been watching the entire exchange, burst into laughter. Charles clapped Lando on the back. "Relax, Lando. Youâre acting like youâre her father."
Max nodded, grinning. "Good luck keeping her under control in Vegas. Donât be surprised if she elopes with one of them. Or both."
Lando scowled, his grip on Ynâs arm tightening slightly. "Not happening. Not on my watch."
Yn sighed, throwing Kimi and Ollie a helpless look as she was guided away. They exchanged amused, slightly nervous glances, but it was clear that they werenât about to give up. She blew them a kiss, which both Kimi and Ollie pretended to catch. Ollie put his "kiss" to his heart while Kimi put his on his cheek.
As Yn and Lando walked off, she glanced up at her brother, shaking her head. "You know, if you keep acting like this, no oneâs ever going to want to date me."
"Thatâs the point," Lando muttered under his breath.
Yn laughed. "Youâre ridiculous."
"And Iâm your older brother," he replied, smirking. "Get used to it."
Behind them, Kimi and Ollie shared a look, nodding in silent agreement. Theyâd have to work harder to get Ynâs attention without incurring the wrath of overprotective older brother Lando. But they werenât about to give up. After all, Vegas was coming up soon, and as much as Lando hated to hear it, the weekend held endless possibilities.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x sister!reader#ollie bearman x reader#kimi antonelli x reader#norris!reader#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#carlos sainz x reader#pierre gasly x reader#f1 x reader#xoxo babygirl đ
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Baby Steps
Summary: You and Rafe are expecting your first child and decide to take a trip to the beach, not expecting to be joined by a guest with chubby cheeks and pull ups.
-some more domesticated rafe as per your request-
The golden hues of the late afternoon sun stretch across the horizon, casting a warm glow over the beach as you and Rafe arrive. You smile at the feeling of the hot sand between your toes.
The waves lazily lap against the shore, creating a serene soundtrack to your special day. It was a beautiful day out, for sure. With the cooler gripped in one hand, with the umbrella on top, and the box containing a special mini cake in his other hand, Rafe is already in full preparation mode.
âHere, let me help with that,â you offer, but Rafe shakes his head, his grin both charming and determined. "You're already carrying something valuable, let me handle the rest, okay?" Rafe reassures you as he places the items down in a nice vacated space.
Far enough from the waves to not get wet, but close enough to still hear the water cracking against the sand at an amplified volume as the perfect white noise for you to do some beach reading. You glance down at your rounded belly, letting your left hand rest over the precious cargo he's referring to.
"I'm only four months, babe. I can still carry things. Just let me help you set up at least." You hold onto the muscle of his upper arm with a soft frown and he can't resist. An idea visibly dawned upon him. "Yeah, you know what." He props open the cooler and pulls out a chilled bottle of water, "I need you to drink this, I don't want you to get too hot."
Your eyes roll and you take the bottle, about to ease yourself down onto the beach chair when Rafe is suddenly behind you, a guiding palm on your lower back to lighten your load as you sit down. "Rafe, you're joking, right? I know how to sit down by myself." You huff and he sees you're starting to get frustrated.
He crouches down to be near you, "Look, baby. I'm sorry, okay? It's all just so new to me and I don't want anything to happen to you or the baby especially not if I can help it." Your arms unfold, and your composure melts under his apologetic gaze.
How could you be mad at him? He was just so cute and excited to be a dad, he wanted to make sure you had the safest, most comfortable pregnancy possible, and he made sure of that at all times. He set up everything while you didn't lift a finger.
You'd even slipped into a light nap as he did so. Waking up under the shade of the beach umbrella and almost certain there was an extra layer of sunscreen on your arms that wasn't there before.
Your towels laid out on the sand in front of you where Rafe knelt, the cake now put away in the cooler as he organized the supplies in the first-aid kit he insisted on bringing along.
"Is this all you're gonna do all day?" You mumble, lifting up your sun hat a bit to see him better and he smiles. "Well, you fell asleep on me, so I was keeping myself busy." Taking that as your cue to stand, leaving your hat behind on the chair and untying the flowy coverup you'd been wearing.
"I'm up now, let's get in the water." He's right behind you as your heels kick up sand with your eager steps to the ocean. Your laughs blend harmoniously in the water. Playful splashes and stolen kisses fill your afternoon for the next hour until you're ready for lunch.
Now Rafe was lounging under the shade, sunglasses covering his sky-blue eyes as he relaxed on the chair. Meanwhile, you enjoyed the warm sun kissing your skin as you sat on the towel, preparing some sandwiches for you both to share.
That brings you to now, the two of you sitting on the sandy towels with satiated appetites and a pleased smile on your faces, enjoying each other's company. "You ready now?" Rafe proposes, referring to the mini cake in the cooler which had either a pink or blue filling. You shake your head.
"Not yet, I need more time." He laughs, "At this rate, you'll find out when the baby comes." He says casually and your brow arches, "Only me? Don't you mean the both of us?" His head shakes, "Uh uh, I'm eating that cake with or without you." He jokes and you swat at him, causing him to spill some water from the bottle he was sipping before putting it away.
His attention was stolen from you and focused on something behind you, before you could even turn your head, Rafe's reflexes are shown as his arms reach out for the tumbling toddler who'd tripped over the uneven terrain and it seems she'd been running at a pace faster than her chunky legs could keep up with.
"Woah! Hey there, pudding," The nickname rolls off Rafe's tongue so naturally you hardly even recognize it, she looks up at him from within his stronghold. "Hi!" She waves and Rafe smiles so big it warms your heart to see.
"Where are your parents?" He follows up but she busies herself with the chain around his neck, blabbering the words 'Dada' in the sweetest voice you'd ever heard.
Rafe's eyes crinkle at the corners with his smile as he looks at you, mouthing the words, "She's so cute" and you mouth back, "I know," "I wonder where her parents are." You say, checking the tag on her swim top for any signs of identification but nothing. The two of you stand, the toddler hanging off Rafe's side, having the time of her life with a cheeky smile.
The two of you paced the beach, up and down. "I know her parents are worried sick," You mutter, checking your phone for any services you can contact for a 'lost baby on the beach please help!'
"If they don't come back, do you think we can keep her?" Rafe inquires and you laugh, "It's probably every parent's nightmare to hear a stranger say that as you're holding their missing child." You say, stopping in your tracks and placing your hands on your back with a sigh, worn out from all the walking.
"Are you okay?" Rafe checks in and you nod, "Maybe we should just go back and wait? Her parents might be walking around too and we keep missing them." Rafe agrees and the three of you walk back to your place on the beach, each of you holding her hand as she had insisted on being put down.
You kept her busy once you returned to your spot, building sand castles and giving her some water and sunscreen to keep her hydrated and protected from the slowly setting sun.
"How old are you?" Rafe laughs at your attempts to have full conversations with who he assumes is a two-year-old, but your guess was three. "Me Ava." She says and your eyes widen. Your initial question remained unanswered but now you had other answers.
"Ava! Hi Ava!" You coo, tickling her tummy until she's a bundle of fits and giggles, completely oblivious to the longing look Rafe has on you. "Tummy!" She says, and you laugh, not sure what she's talking about until she places a hand on your belly. "Big tummy!" She repeats and Rafe can't help but stifle a laugh at her direct observation.
"That's right. There's a baby in here." You explain but her head tilts, lost. "Baby?" You gave the soft waves of her hair a gentle pat, admiring her innocence, "That's right, it's either a girl baby or a boy baby." To your surprise, she begins chanting for a 'boy baby'. "See, Ava gets it." Rafe teases, always taking the opportunity to talk about having the boy he so desperately begs you for as if you had any say in the matter.
"Hungry," She whines and that sends Rafe digging into the cooler for snacks. You let her decide which fruit she wanted but her eye had caught sight of the mini container of cake that had been taken out in order to find the other items.
"Looks like she knows what she wants," Rafe smiles and you think about it, "We can't give her sugar, Rafe. Here, do you want some watermelon?" Her focus now is on the juicy red fruit you presented to her on a plate.
She must be fond of it, slurping up the juices and making a mess of her top. Fortunately, it was later washed off with the salt water when Rafe insisted on playing with her after she'd digested her food.
The sun was slowly beginning to set and the three of you had been lounging around for the last thirty minutes or so, when Ava made a loud shriek, "Mama!" She yelled, hopping off the towel and into her mom's arms.
Ava's mom graces you with a tight hug and a desperate stream of never-ending apologies and gratitude. She congratulated you on the little one you were expecting, confident you'd be amazing parents. "Now, what do you say to the nice people who watched you, Ava?" Her mom prompts, with what you could imagine is a very secure hold on Ava's hand, ensuring she doesn't slip away again.
"Thank you!" She beams, showing off her tiny baby teeth and you feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of her leaving. The last two hours, though chaotic, gave you the reassurance you were looking for with the whole parenting thing.
You wave them goodbye and you take a deep breath, "I'm ready," You don't have to explain anything more and you're both walking back to your spot to cut the cake. Only to see a toddler-sized footprint in it that Ava must've caused as she got up, denting the container and the contents inside smushing against its confines.
Pink.
"WaitâŠ" You say, in disbelief, kneeling down with Rafe doing the same. "Are we-" He says, eyes misting over and you call him out, "Hey, I thought you wanted a boy." He holds you close, "I thought so too, but I'm honestly just glad it's with you." He brings you in for a kiss on your forehead. She's so loved already and she doesn't even know it.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe drabble#outer banks smut#rafe obx#outer banks imagines#rafe smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#bsf!rafe#rafe cameron drabble#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey smut#drew starkey#obx fic#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx#dilf rafe cameron#dilf rafe#baby daddy rafe
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el sueño de una niña II Jenni Hermoso x Reader
masterlist I word count: 2175
a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. đ€đ
âWait, I know that youâre a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?â
Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.
That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.
Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forwardâs plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didnât feel ready to be a part of a family.
Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love.Â
âUhm.. you didnât see me, okay?â, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.
âBut youâre the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.â, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.
âYes, but donât tell anyone.â, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.
âWow.â, the little girl whispered amazed.
âSorry, I really need to leave now. Iâve a speech to write.â, the striker apologized.
This didnât stop Mila to confide in the older woman. âIâd love to be a football player like you when Iâm grown up.â
âYou do?â, something of your daughterâs sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.
âYes.â, the girl emphasized.
âHm..â
âItâs a big dream of mine.â, Mila added smiling shily.
âYouâll have to work hard for it.â, the Spaniard told her seriously.
âI can do that.â, your daughter assured her.
âAnd people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope youâll be compliant.â, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girlâs eyes.
âDid they do that with you?â, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired womanâs cheek.
âYes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?â, she confirmed.
âOkay?â
âDonât let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?â, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughterâs fingers.
âI promise.â, Mila answered solemnly.
âIf you excuse me now.â, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.
âBye, Jenni. I hope Iâll see you back soon.â, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.
âWeâll see. Thank you though.â, Jenni answered gratefully.
âThank you for what?â, your daughter frowned confused.
âYou just gave me an idea for my speech.â, the football playerâs face lit up with excitement as she spoke.
Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon DâOr ceremony.
The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didnât matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.
âJenni, have you actually prepared a speech?â
Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.
Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: âNo way! I thought youâd just start talking like you always do.â
Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: âThat was the initial plan but I had a better idea.â
âDid someone spark your inspiration?â, Marta asked innocently.
Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: âYes. And I hope sheâs watching.â
Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.
For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.
Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people werenât satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.
Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: âYou dedicated it to a young girl? Whoâs that?â
âSomeone I met this morning.â, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.
âShe seems to have left quite an impression on you.â, Caroline remarked.
âShe did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit⊠but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.â
âI agree with that.â, Alexia chimed in.
Marta nodded in agreement: âMe too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.â
âLetâs be honest, we still do.â, Aitana whispered.
Jenni answered with new-found determination: âYes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.â
âI bet we will.â, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.
Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. âI think Iâm going to leave.â
âLeave?â, Patri repeated puzzled.
âYeah, this party is boring anyway.â, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldnât celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.
 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasnât that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon dâor ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.
Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.
âMila stayed awake the whole time, she didnât want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.â
âShe watched?â, the dark-haired woman asked happily.
âYes, Mila loved everything about your speech.â, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forwardâs face.
âIâve to thank her. She inspired me.â, she confessed.
âYou inspired her as well.â, you admitted smiling. Â
âEven if sheâs the only one, I reached my goal.â, Jenni beamed.
âTo be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.â, you remarked solemnly.
âI hope so.â, the dark-haired woman sighed.
âTrust me.â, you answered softly.
After a meaningful pause you added. âI almost thought you wouldnât call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.â
âThat would sound like me actually.â, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.
âSheâll appreciate the thank you though, itâll mean a lot to her.â, you said while you bit your lip.
âThatâs why Iâm here. I want to thank you both.â, Jenni looked at you sincerely.
âShouldnât you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?â, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.
âNot many women there that arenât my teammates. And Iâm not allowed to drink, Iâve to be back with my national team tomorrow.â, the striker chuckled amused.
âI see.â
âAnd maybe I preferred to spend my time here.â, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.
You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: âSadly sheâs already asleepâŠâ
âThatâs okay. I could stay if you let me.â
You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldnât resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: âYes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.â
âIf I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldnât have told you.â, Jenni half-joked.
You tilted your head: âGood point.â
âSo?â
âYou can stay the night.â, you finally confirmed.
Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: âThanks.â
âYouâre welcome, Jenni.â
The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didnât want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: âJenni!â
âWoah, youâre already awake, little one. Good morning.â, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.
She was still here, still in your bed.
âI saw you! Last night!â, Mila said full of excitement.
âYou did? And did you like my suit? Itâs on that chair.â, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.
You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.
âItâs beautiful.â
âRight? Next year Iâll take you and your mum with me.â, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.
While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: âWhat? Really?â
âYes, why not?â
You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you werenât delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.
âDonât promise her too much.â, you warned the football player.
Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: âI⊠mean it.â
âYou mean it?â
âI do. I want to keep seeing you and her.â, she said with determination.
Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. âWe want to keep seeing you too!â, she yelled happily.
Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: âWould you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?â
Mila was bursting with joy: âYes!â
âI mean isnât that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?â, you interjected.
âI can take care of it all. But only if thatâs okay with you.â, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: âPleeease.â
Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?
With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: âOkay.â
The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didnât want to wake up.
In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldnât hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.
âPretty girl from next door? Sheâs so your type, Jenni.â, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.
âThatâs why sheâs here.â, the forward winked at the defender.
With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. âWho wouldâve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.â
âStrange things happen, Ale.â, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.
âYes, itâs Halloween soon.â, Vicky threw in teasingly.
âRude.â, the older striker commented smiling.
âVicky.â, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.
The test game ended in a draw, but that didnât stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.
âThat wasnât very subtle, Jenni.â, you laughed.
âI donât care about subtle anymore.â, she clarified grinning.
âWhat about the others watching?â, you asked her, cheeks flushed.
âThey just love to stare at pretty girls.â, Jenni stated firmly.
âPretty girls, hm?â, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didnât hide her desire towards you and wasnât afraid to show it in the public.
âYes.â, she confirmed.
âKiss me again.â, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.
Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.
Keep dreaming.
gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso oneshot#woso one shot#jenni hermoso#jenni hermoso x reader#jenni hermoso imagine#tigres femenil#espwnt#espwnt x reader#espwnt imagine#sefutbolfem#futfem#woso fanfic#alexia putellas#aitana bonmati#patri guijarro#salma paralluelo#marta torrejon#caroline graham hansen#laia codina#barca femeni#barca femini x reader#barcelona femeni#woso blurbs#woso appreciation
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Prompt: Everyone knows that Tommy is a pushover for Buck's đ„ș eyes (it's a running joke for the 118/217), but when Tommy gets upset and is very quietly đ„ș, Buck is shocked by how completely and utterly insane he goes to make Tommy feel better.
(bonus points if it's a completely dumb reason, like Tommy's run out of ice cream or something and it's just A Bad Day)
A little silly, a little serious, I hope you enjoy!
One of the many things Buck loved about his and Tommy's relationship is that he got to see a side of Tommy that no one else saw. He got to see many sides of Tommy that no one else saw, actually.
While everyone got a piece of calm, cool, and collected Thomas Kinard, Buck got all that and everything in between.
He saw him on his best days, his worst days, goofy days, sick days, horny days, tired days, all the days! He often thought of making a list of all the things people would be surprised to know about Tommy. He'd never share it, of course, but it'd be nice for him to have.
Like, how Tommy was ticklish only on his right side. And when he got tickled, he didn't do his normal laugh. Instead it was a high pitched giggle with a snort.
Or, how Tommy was super proud of the fact he knew every single word to We Didn't Start the Fire and he felt the need to sing it at the top of his lungs at least once a week.
How he loved human connection, but hated being touched by strangers. He'd hug a friend all night long if you needed it, but if he didn't know you please keep your hands to yourself.
How he liked tomatoes on cold sandwiches, but never on toasted ones.
How he loved when Buck would sit on the countertop and kiss him because it made him feel smaller, and he loved feeling small and protected in Evan's arms.
How his voice got deeper during sex. Whether he was inside Buck or Buck was inside him, his voice would always get all gravely and deep in a way that sent shivers down Buck's spine.
Maybe one of the biggest ones was how Tommy was not always the stoic, perfectly poised man as he presented himself to the world.
Tommy could get emotional. Emotional in a way that was usually reserved for movies written by men about women during their period.
Buck was thrown off by it the first time it happened. He almost thought it was a joke, until he saw the tears in Tommy's eyes as he mourned the fact he was out of whipped cream.
Then it was just heartbreaking.
It didn't happen often. A series of bad events throughout the day would build up in his body and brain until the smallest inconvenience caused him to fall apart.
They'd talked about it before. Tommy had grown up having to hold in his thoughts and feelings. They'd build and build until he'd do something erratic or harmful. Then he joined the army, and those emotions would build up the same way. Being in the army itself was a bit erratic and harmful, so he didn't have the best coping skills.
It wasn't until he started therapy, and his therapist helped him realize that he needed to let himself feel whatever he was feeling that he slowly and gradually became better at opening up.
However, there were still days where he felt the need to let everything build. Build and build until he burst. Except, now days, instead of becoming erratic or harmful, his eyes would well up and his lip would come out in a pout, and Buck would feel the need to move heaven and earth to make it all better.
Buck knew something was off as soon as he got home from work. Tommy was already there in the garage, half bent over his truck as he worked on the engine.
Buck let out a whistle. âWhat a view,â he teased.
Tommy glanced back at him, gave him a half smile before focusing back on his truck. âHey, Baby. I ordered dinner. Should be in before it gets here.â
To anyone else, that might seem like a regular conversation. To Buck, it was the exact opposite. Normal Tommy would make some teasing comment right back, letting Buck know what he was seeing was just a preview of what was to come.
This... This was the start of an emotional night.
*****
Dinner was fairly quiet, with Buck leading most of the conversation. He knew not to ask questions yet. If he did it too soon, Tommy would completely shut down and it would take even longer to get any information out of him. As much as Buck hated it, this had to play out a certain way.
Luckily, he was fluent in Tommy.
It was a little after dinner, once Buck had settled in the living room, that it began.
âEvan?â Tommy called out from the kitchen.
âYeah?â
âIs... Did you put my ice cream in a different spot?â
âNo, it's-â Buck froze, thinking back to two nights ago. Jee had come over and wanted a treat. She ended up eating the last of Tommy's favorite birthday cake ice cream. He knew that, on a regular day, Tommy wouldn't care that it was gone.
He also knew today wasn't a regular day.
âI think it's all gone, Babe,â he said cautiously as he got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.
âOh. Okay.â
He wasn't angry. He never got angry over little things like that.
He was sad. Resigned to the fact he would not be getting any of his favorite ice cream tonight.
Buck often felt like it'd be a lot easier if he just got angry.
He made it into the kitchen just as Tommy closed the freezer door. His face downcast, he glanced up at Buck through his eyelashes, eyes wide and wet. His bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly before he turned away from Buck and headed for the pantry.
âI'll have cookies instead,â he said with a sniff.
Buck got out his phone and pressed a few buttons before stuffing it back into his pocket and walking over to Tommy.
âHoney, why don't we just go sit down for a minute?â
âI just...â His shoulders sagged. âI really don't want cookies.â
Gently, Buck placed his hands on Tommy's back, nudging him until he could lead him toward the living room. âWhy don't we go sit on the couch, okay?â
Tommy simply nodded, but Buck could see him lift a hand to his face and wipe a tear off his cheek.
The thing was, Buck knew he could be a handful sometimes. He was bratty, pouty, stubborn, and jealous. And Tommy accepted all of that. Not just accepted it, loved it. He loved every part of Buck, even the parts Buck didn't love himself.
Buck also knew Tommy would do anything for him. Would drop whatever he was doing and run to Buck's side the second he got a call. Would wait on him hand and foot. He spoiled Buck rotten, and everyone knew it.
There weren't as many opportunities for Buck to reciprocate that level of love and support. But when these days came along, that what's Buck's time to shine. He hated to see Tommy like this, but loved that he could be there for him. Loved that he could help him through it. So that's what he did.
They got situated, Buck leaning against the arm rest with his legs sprawled out on the couch. He pulled Tommy down so his back rested against Buck's chest. Buck wrapped his arms around him, hands meeting just over his heart. Tommy's hands drifted up and latched onto Buck's, holding tight.
âWhy don't you tell me about work?â Buck asked, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head. Things had been fine before they left for work the previous morning, so something had to have happened during their shift.
âI only had two calls.â
âAnd?â
âAnd the first one was a drunk driver. It was noon, Evan. Noon.â
âCasualties?â
Tommy shook his head. âNo, but a young girl got hit. Spinal injury. She probably won't walk again.â
Now Buck had a starting point.
âAfter that?â
Tommy's body tensed so Buck squeezed him tighter. âThe new probie, Jenkins, did something stupid and pissed me off.â
âWhat'd he do?â
âDoesn't matter.â
âIf it pissed you off, it matters.â
âHe's one of those religious types that carries pamphlets in their pockets,â Tommy explained. âI guess he overheard me talking about you- about us- a few weeks ago so he gifted me a pamphlet today.â
Buck knew where this was going. âYou're kidding me?â
âI wish. It was some Adam and Eve crap, not even original. It reminded me of my dad. He... He used to say things like that. Anyway, I threw the pamphlet away without reading it.â
âGood for you.â
Tommy shifted slightly, tangling his and Buck's legs together. âThe only thing that kept running through my mind was how we watched a little girl's life change forever, she will never walk again, and all Jenkins was thinking about was turning me straight.â
Buck brought a hand to Tommy's hair, carefully running his fingers through it. âI'm sorry, Tommy.â
âMy aunt texted me too. Wanted me to come to the next family reunion.â
âAre you gonna go?â
âI told her I'd have a plus one and she... she said she doesn't wanna hear my dad complain for an entire weekend. I was quickly uninvited.â
Buck took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. âI- If you wanna go-â
âThere's not a single part of me that wants to be there, especially without you. I'm good.â
âIf you're sure.â
âI'm sure.â
âWhat about your truck?â Buck asked. âYou were working on it when I got home.â
âOh. That.â Tommy rolled his eyes. âThat was the icing on the cake. Engine light came on in the middle of my drive home. I think I fixed the problem for now, but I'm gonna need a new engine soon. Everything just fell apart today, Evan, I- sorry.â
âYou don't need to be sorry.â Just then the doorbell rang and Buck gave Tommy a pat on the shoulder. âYou do need to get the door though. It's for you.â
Tommy sat up, eyebrows furrowing at Buck before he got up and headed for the door.
About thirty seconds later, he was back with a paper bag in hand. His eyes were soft and tear-filled, but not with sadness this time. âYou ordered my ice cream?â
Buck nodded, giving him a smile. âOf course I did.â
Tommy set the bag down and walked over to Buck, kneeling beside the couch and resting his head on Evan's lap. He wrapped his arms around Evan's waist the best he could, his face pressed against Evan's stomach. âI love you so much.â
After a few seconds, Buck stroked his thumb over Tommy's cheek. âCome here,â he said softly, pulling him up for a chaste kiss. âI love you too.â
#bucktommy#911#tommy kinard#evan buckley#my number one rule: if you can't figure out how to end a story- end with 'i love you' đ#this would have been longer but im tired and emotional myself#thanks for reading! remember to VOTE!
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okay I just need pussydrunk mattheo đ„”
It is honestly embarrassing how long this has been in my drafts unfinished(literally a few days over a yearđ€Šââïž) I have been awol for so long but I have been GOIN through it yâall. I think I can finally at least try and actually come back to this blog. I love writing so much and I hate when it just isnât fun anymore. And when I saw this I actually got excited to finish it so letâs see how it goes. Please correct mistakes and give feedback
Warnings: suggestive content but not actually full smut, public oral(f!receiving), heavy petting, play argument/kinda roleplay, some teasing.
{masterlist}
~Needy~
To plenty of people having a needy boyfriend would be the end of the world. But when that boyfriend is Mattheo Riddle, who seems to have an unnaturally high labido and stamina, itâs more of a pro rather than a con.
But what comes with needy is clingy. Mattheo just needs his hands on you whenever he can. You werenât complaining but he certainly was. There was just too much time out of the day that he couldnât touch you. So me made sure to cut thay time down as much as he could.
âCome oooon Babyâ Mattheo groaned as he tugged you towards an empty, shadow filled corridor, âJust think about it, how many days a week do we have Potions, and how many weeks are in a term, how many terms in a school yearâŠ.we can miss one hour of Potions Baby itâll be fine. Plus youâre the smartest, prettiest, hottest person at this school youâve got options for you future.â
âUm first of all,â You start, crossing your arms across your chest, poking your hip out to make Mattheo groan out loud as he restrains himself from touching you, âThis will be the fourth time we missed Potions so far this term, and second of all who said I was worried for my future, nuh uh Baby Iâm worried about yours.â
âMerlin youâre sexy when youâre being all bossyâMattheo sighs, stepping closer to you and fanning your face with his breath, âI donât care about my future as long as youâre in it, I need to keep you excited donât I Princess?â He laughs out as he watches your resolve melt away, moving his hand up to grip your waste.
âThatâs no fair.â You pout, desperately trying to hold a straight face as you continue, âYou know youâre not allowed to call me Princess in an argument, you always win with that.â Mattheo sighs dramatically and steps even closer to you, breathing your air as he holds your hip tightly, tugging you into him aggressively.
âIâm so sorry baby, please forgive me,â He begs dramatically, smiling before dipping his head into the crook beside your shoulder to trace small pecks across your collarbone, forcing a moan to slip past your lips despite your pretend protests.
âHow could I ever forgive you for such a lapse Mattheo,â you smile at how fast he halts his mouths assault of your collarbone giving you time to slip your fingers into his raven curls, giving them a tug to force his eyes up to yours, âYou know, I can think of something you can do to earn my forgiveness.â
âWhat?â He rasps out, his breath caught in his chest at the feeling of your hand in his hair and the other slowly slipping down his chest at an agonizing pace, âWhat can I do to make you feel better Baby, Iâll do anything for you, you know that.â His voice his breathy and desperate, sending heat down your abdomen as your thighs squeeze together subconsciously. At the gentle shove to his shoulder, Mattheo knew exactly what you wanted, smirking as you looked down to him where he leant into you with those pretend innocent eyes. Mattheo fell to his knees immediately, his hands tracing their way under your skirt while his eyes stay on yours.
âIs this what youâre asking forâŠPrincess?â Mattheo asks, smirking as he gains dominance from below you, âYou want me to make you feel good?âŠ.But Baby what about Potions, we-we canât miss class i-itâs impo-â You cut off his teasing with a tug to his hair and small sigh at the feeling of his hand ghosting across your underwear. Mattheo groans, his eyes falling into the back of his head as your fingers tighten in his hair.
âOkay okay, Iâve got you Princess.â He laughs breathlessly as his fingers tug your underwear down your legs, allowing you to step out of them before he shoves them in his pocket with a wink. In a flash Mattheo has his lips on you, his head vanishing under your skirt, his hand trailing upward to squeeze at your chest through your button up, the other gripping your thigh to give you support as you begin to wobble.
âOh fuck Mattheo,â You moan loudly before clamping your hand over your mouth, almost forgetting your very public location at the feeling of Mattheoâs tongue meticulously swirling around your clit. His chuckle from below almost pisses you off enough to fight for dominance but as though to wipe your mind of it, Mattheo flattens his tongue and leaves a strip up your heat, making you whimper into your hand and bite your skin to prevent getting caught.
You shake as Mattheoâs fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh while it wobbles, unsteady as you begin to lose balance at the fast pace of Mattheoâs tongue, âFuck Baby, can you stand or do I need to hold you?â He chuckles against you at your whine of protest, not wanting him to stop even for a second. Mattheo quickly tugs your thigh over his shoulder, allowing him to gain more access, speeding up his actions, moaning at your taste and the thought of you coming on his face as you depend on him to hold you steady. Your head falls back against the stone wall, your eyes rolling backward as your hand falls to his shoulders for balance not caring anymore about your volume. Your little whimpers and squeaks drive him insane below you, he knows your close, he can feel it.
Without warning Mattheo shifts lower, shoving his tongue into you, lowering his hand from your chest in a flash and using his thumb to stimulate your clit as his tongue moves in and out of you, matching his own pace and groaning as he feels your legs begin to shake for him. Your moans become screams as you release on his tongue, falling into his hold while he rises to look at your post-orgasm face he loves so much.
âGood thing we did this during class, someone might have heard otherwise.â Mattheo says simply with a laugh as you weakly smack at his broad shoulder.
~~~~
Pretty short compared to others I have but I just really wanted to start posting again. Iâm probably gonna be cleaning out my drafts and trying to get them out even old ones ppl probably arenât waiting on anymore to try and get back into a groove on here.
#harry potter#smut#hp#harry potter fandom#harry potter smut#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fic#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle x fem!reader#fem!reader#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys#mattheo riddle fanfic
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⥠Are You Always This Forward? | CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
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Summary: Y/n meets Charles at a party, and what starts as a casual fling quickly becomes something more. As their connection deepens and feelings grow, Y/n begins to questionâ is it really casual? [Inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan]
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A/N: Also comment if you guys wanna be added to the taglist because I've written almost 7 chapters for this series and we're nowhere near done so buckle up
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Part 1 of my Is It Casual Now? series: Masterlist
You werenât exactly thrilled to be here. The party was crowded, with people spilling out onto the balcony, laughter and music filling the room. It wasnât really your scene, but your friends had convinced you to come out for a change, insisting that you âneeded a night out.â
"Look, if nothing else, you might at least see some familiar faces," one of your friends said, nudging you with a grin. âRumor has it Charles Leclerc is here.â
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the little spark of curiosity that flared up. âOh, please,â you replied with a laugh, though you glanced around the room. âWhy would Charles Leclerc be at a random party like this?â
âApparently, he knows the host,â your friend said, looking around too, as if heâd appear on command. âBesides, you know heâs got a thing for these parties. Always in the photos with some new girl hanging off his arm.â
âRight, the âplayboyâ Leclerc reputation,â you muttered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. But the truth was, you knew exactly who he was, and while the rumors werenât exactly your thing, he was⊠undeniably attractive.
âYeah, that reputation,â another friend chimed in, giving you a sly smile. âI mean, look at himâheâs practically a walking invitation for bad decisions. But I wouldnât mind, honestly.â She laughed, and you joined in, the both of you glancing around in a playful attempt to spot him.
But in the next second, you felt itâa gaze that sent a small thrill up your spine. Your friends were still laughing and joking, but your eyes had locked onto someone across the room, and there he was: Charles, in the flesh, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand. And he was staring right at you.
A rush of heat crept into your cheeks, but you quickly looked away, brushing it off as a fluke. You barely knew him; it was nothing. And yet, a few minutes later, when you glanced back, he was still watching you, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips.
âLook whoâs got Leclercâs attention,â one of your friends whispered, nudging you in the ribs. âIf I didnât know better, Iâd say he was eyeing you up.â
âStop,â you muttered, laughing it off. âYou guys are reading too much into it. Heâs probably just looking around.â
âYeah, right,â she teased, winking at you. âSeems like heâs only looking at you.â
You rolled your eyes, determined to ignore it. But Charles seemed to have other plans because, a few moments later, he began making his way over to your group. Your friends scattered, throwing you quick glances of encouragement, leaving you standing there as he came to a stop in front of you, his gaze warm and entirely focused.
"Enjoying the party?" he asked, his voice smooth, just a hint of an accent slipping through.
âItâs all right,â you said, trying to play it cool. âWasnât really planning on talking to anyone new tonight.â
He laughed, the sound deep and rich, tilting his head as he looked at you. âWell, thatâs a shame. Youâre the most interesting person here.â
âOh, please.â You shook your head, letting out a soft laugh. âDonât you have other people you could be charming?â
âMaybe,â he replied, his eyes flicking over you again, âbut none of them seem half as interesting as you.â
The boldness of his gaze unsettled you, and you bit your lip, shifting your weight slightly as you tried to keep your cool. He was every bit as captivating as his reputation claimed, and yet you were wary, keeping your guard up despite the warmth spreading through you.
âAre you always this forward?â you asked, raising an eyebrow.
âOnly with people worth it,â he said, his gaze unwavering. He took a small step closer, a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes. âSo, can I at least buy you a drink?â
You found yourself nodding before you fully realized it. He waved down a waiter, ordering drinks as the conversation between you flowed easily, surprising you. He was funny, easygoing, and each small, accidental touch sent a jolt through you that you tried to ignore.
Over the next hour, you laughed, your body leaning into his as the drinks made you both looser, the edges of the world around you softening. The subtle touches became less accidentalâhis hand resting on your lower back, the way heâd brush his fingers against yours whenever he handed you your drink. It was heady, electric, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way that felt both thrilling and a little reckless.
âSo,â he murmured, leaning in close, his face just inches from yours. âAre you going to keep pretending youâre not interested?â
You laughed, looking away, your cheeks warming under his gaze. âWho says Iâm pretending?â
He smiled, his fingers brushing your cheek as he gently guided your face back to his. âI do.â And then he closed the gap, pressing his lips softly against yours.
The kiss was light at first, testing, but when you responded, his hands settled on your waist, pulling you in closer. You could feel his warmth, his heart beating beneath your palms as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the kiss deepening as the tension that had been building between you finally spilled over.
You broke apart for a moment, catching your breath, and he smiled, looking at you as if he was just as affected. âCome back with me?â he asked softly, his voice low and inviting.
Your heart raced, but you nodded, the thrill of the moment drowning out any hesitation. The ride to his apartment was a blur, the silence filled with anticipation, the only sound the occasional brush of his hand over yours. And when you arrived, he barely waited for the door to close before he pulled you close again, kissing you deeply, his hands finding your waist as he guided you toward his bedroom.
In his arms, it felt like time slowed. Every touch, every kiss was filled with an intensity that left you breathless, his lips tracing a path from your mouth down to your neck, his hands warm and steady as he pulled you against him. The night was filled with whispered words and soft laughter, the thrill of his touch and the warmth of his presence pulling you into a heady, dreamlike state. When you finally drifted off, it was with a sense of contentment you hadnât expected, his arm draped around you, his breathing even beside you.
The morning light seeped through the curtains, and you blinked, slowly becoming aware of the weight of Charlesâs arm still wrapped around you. You shifted slightly, thinking youâd sneak out quietly, but he tightened his hold, murmuring sleepily, âWhere do you think youâre going?â
You laughed softly, turning to face him. âI thought Iâd slip out before I overstayed my welcome.â
He grinned, his hand moving to your waist. âAnd here I was hoping youâd stay for breakfast.â
You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. âYou really donât have to play the gentleman.â
âWho said I was playing?â he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. He reached over to grab his phone, tapping in the passcode before handing it to you. âJust in case,â he said, his tone casual but his gaze soft, watching as you saved your number on his phone.
You arched a brow as you handed it back. âRight. As if youâre going to remember to call me.â
He shrugged, smirking. âGuess weâll have to wait and see.â
With a laugh, you finally slipped out of bed, pulling your clothes back on as he watched you with a lazy, satisfied smile. âDonât worry, youâll be hearing from me,â he called out as you left, and you shook your head, chalking it up to morning-after charm.
A few weeks later, you found yourself at another party, the memory of that night with Charles lingering somewhere in the back of your mind. But it wasnât until you felt a familiar hand on your waist, warm and steady, that you turned and saw him, his grin as mischievous as ever.
Without a word, he guided you down a hallway, slipping into a quiet bathroom and closing the door behind you. âMiss me?â he murmured, pressing you back against the door as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your skin.
Your heart raced as you looked up at him, barely able to suppress a grin. âDidnât think Iâd see you again.â
âWell,â he replied, brushing his lips over yours in a way that made your knees weak, âI couldnât just let you disappear.â
Before you could respond, he kissed you, and just like before, the spark ignited instantly. It was the start of something unspoken, casual but thrilling, each encounter leaving you wanting more, yet content with the moment.
The next few weeks went by in a blur. Somehow, Charles found his way into your life again and again, just as casually as that night at the party. You didnât think too much about it. Heâd message you when he was around, a simple âHey, what are you up to?â that always had a certain charm to it, like heâd genuinely missed your company. You didnât mind, and maybe part of you even looked forward to it.
One evening, you found yourself back at his place, sprawled on the couch together, a movie playing in the background though neither of you were watching. Charles was close, his arm slung over your shoulders, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him, his fingers tracing light patterns along your arm in a way that felt natural and maybe a little more comfortable than youâd expected.
âSo, what happened this time?â you asked, glancing at him. It had become a bit of a game between you twoâheâd tell you a funny story or some little anecdote, always skirting around any real details about his life but sharing just enough to keep you intrigued.
âOh, nothing too dramatic,â he replied with a lazy grin, âjust an embarrassing incident in front of the team principal. Tripped over a power cord, nearly brought the whole simulator down with me.â
You burst out laughing, nudging him. âSo much for that smooth reputation of yours.â
âOh, Iâm smooth when it counts,â he shot back, his eyes dancing with that familiar cheeky glint as he leaned closer. âI havenât heard any complaints from you. Also being smooth is more of my teammateâs thingâ
You felt your cheeks warm, and you looked away, laughing softly. There was something about him, the way he moved so effortlessly from humor to something more intense, that always had your heart racing. When his hand moved to brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just a moment longer than necessary, you felt that familiar spark between you.
The kisses started slow, a mix of laughter and warmth as his lips met yours. Youâd gotten used to the way heâd go from teasing you to pulling you close, his hands trailing along your back as he deepened the kiss, his touch growing more insistent. Somehow, even though you both kept things light, there was a weight to it, an intensity that left you breathless every time.
But no matter how intense it got, the mornings were always easy. Heâd hand you a coffee, tease you about how you liked it, and insist on making breakfastâeven if that breakfast was sometimes just a couple of slices of toast or a quickly scrambled egg.
One morning, you woke up with him lying next to you, his arm draped over your waist, his face relaxed in sleep. You tried to slip out of bed, but as you moved, he tightened his hold, his eyes opening just a sliver. âGoing somewhere?â he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
âIâve got things to do,â you whispered back, though you were reluctant to move from the warmth of his arms.
âStay,â he mumbled, pulling you back down, his head finding the crook of your neck as he nuzzled against you. âJust a few more minutes.â
You rolled your eyes but settled back into his embrace, a soft laugh escaping you. Moments like these, the playfulness and ease, were what kept you coming back. And every time he brushed a kiss over your shoulder or laced his fingers with yours under the covers, it felt like he was daring you to let your guard down just a little bit more.
It was a patternâcasual, yet consistent. You never really talked about what you were doing, and maybe that was part of the appeal. There were no promises, no declarations, just the simple thrill of seeing him and the warmth of his company.
Then one night, at yet another party, you spotted him across the room, his eyes lighting up the moment he saw you. He excused himself from his conversation and strode over, his usual smirk in place.
âYou just canât stay away, can you?â he teased, his hand resting on your lower back as he guided you out of the crowded room, into a quieter hallway. His gaze dropped to yours, a familiar heat sparking between you.
âOh, please,â you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. âIâm here because my friends dragged me out again.â
âSure,â he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway and into a closet, closing the door behind him. Before you could say anything, he pulled you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours, and the familiar thrill washed over you, as strong as ever.
âYou know,â he murmured between kisses, his voice low, âI missed you.â
You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. âOh, really?â
âMaybe a little,â he admitted, his lips grazing along your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine. âYouâre hard to forget.â
He kissed you again, his hands roaming over your waist, your body responding with the same intensity as if this had been brewing since the last time youâd seen each other. The kisses were heated, a rush of warmth and urgency, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the moment.
This was supposed to be just casual, just fun. But as you felt the way he held you close, his fingers tracing light patterns on your skin as if memorizing every detail, you wondered if maybeâjust maybeâthis was starting to mean something more. For now, though, you were content to leave it unspoken, savoring each moment with him as it came.
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#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#f1 x reader#formula one x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 smau#f1 one shot#f1 x oc#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 smau#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x oc#formula 1 x y/n#formula one oneshot#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula one smau#formula one social media au#formula one x oc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader
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i genuinely need you to write something for rio vidal plzzzzzz iâll take anything but your writing is perfect so id love for you to write something *cough* dominant jealous rio *cough*
.đ„ Ę Ë đ«đđđđ'đ đđđđ
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đš/đ”: Omg thank you, Anon. You're too sweet đč
đȘđŸ: Fem!Reader, Dom!Rio, Jealous!Rio, Soft domming, knife play, biting, magical G!P, possessiveness
Contrary to all common sense, the quickest way to find yourself on Deathâs radar was not through an act of death itself. Not by losing your life or taking another'sâŠ
No, it was through her girlfriend.
A stranger's lingering gaze or a friend's pda never escaped Rioâs attention, and a repeat offender, like oh say⊠that coworker of yours you were talking to at that very momentâŠ
Well, they managed to make an enemy out of the force of nature that could usually pride herself on her indiscriminate apathy.
Rio lurked in the shadows outside your workplace, eyes darkening as that fool made you laugh.
She wasn't even two minutes late to pick you up, and already that snake was curling around you. Unbelievable.
You didn't think anything of it, Rio knew, but she could see in that man's eyes every disgusting thought he was having about you.
It made her sick, it made her burn.
Well, if the shades of purple littering your neck didn't clue him in to the fact that you were taken, she was beyond willing to do it herself.
Under the cover of darkness she shifted her attire with a thought, striding over in a new, clean-cut suit that made his own look like ratty hand-me-downs.
You perked up as soon as you noticed her and it made her heart leap. Your bright smile, your appreciative eyes taking in her new lookâŠ
He could never make you glow like that.
âHey, Baby.â
Rio couldn't help a quick smile reserved only for you as she joined you under the streetlight, arm wrapping around your waist. âHello, my love. Sorry I'm late, work was murder.â
She turned to face your companion, with a cold and withering stare. A look that could take years off a life.
âWho's your friend?â
You could never truly estimate the depths of Rio's jealousy but you knew that look well enough to know you had to get her out of there.
And you knew it well enough to not be surprised by the intensity she brought to the bedroom that night.
â.àłàż*:
âI missed you today.â
Rio replied in her softest tone, someone less attuned to her might not have even heard the boundless resentment living within it, âYou seemed like you were enjoying yourself.â
Leisurely, she traced her knife from your jaw, down your neck, applying a spine-tingling pressure just short of breaking skin.
âYeah well, that new guy I work with is pretty fun.â You said breathily, not biting. Her blade caught on the collar of your shirt, lingering above your hammering heart, and Rio laughed.
Never before had such stubborn brattiness looked so good on someone, but you were just something else⊠teasing her even with a knife to your chestâŠ
She cut through the fabric in one rough slash. âCareful, Lover. Wouldn't want to shorten such a fun man's life span, would you?â
âYou wouldn't do that.â you challenged
âTry me. I'd do anything to keep you.â
The sincerity of the statement should have frightened you, but it was intoxicating. To be the object of such devotion from Death herself was a head-spinning high that no drug, spell or new lover could match.
âYou'll always have me, Rio.â
There was a pain to the look she gave you in return, a wound behind her eyes, but she found a smile for you before she circled behind you.
âIâd better.â She breathed in your ear, pulling the tatters of what used to be your shirt from your body.
The tip of her knife traveled down your spine, barely grazing your skin on a trail to your skirt, which she skillfully cut open, baring you to her completely.
âMy pretty girlâŠâ
Her hand smoothed over your ass-cheek with near reverence before disappearing between your legs.
You gasped, skin aflush, but all too soon you realized she wasn't done playing with you yet.
âPlease.â You whimpered as her fingers slid across your folds, just short of where you needed them.
âSay my name.â
âRio, please, I need you so bad.â
She drew a lazy circle on your clit and your breath hitched, âWell how can I say no to that?â
A tingling warmth followed her hand on your back as she pushed you forward, forcing your chest onto your dresser and you into a bend.
You barely noticed the hardness of the surface against your breasts. You couldn't concentrate over the thought of being so exposed to her, and even that died with your last remaining brain cells as you felt the tip of her cock against your entrance.
She could've gone right in, you were wet enough for her to, but she slowly dragged up and down your slick folds, cock head catching on your clit every time and setting your nerves ablaze.
âRio.â You whined.
âSo impatient.â She laughed. âDon't worry, Baby, I'll take care of you.â
With that she pushed through your centre, slowly and gently sinking inside of you, savoring every blissful moan you let out.
She very nearly lost herself as you jerked against her but she resisted the rough thrust you were so clearly asking for. Your pathetic, little mewls, music to her ears.
She bottomed out inside of you, letting you adjust, letting you enjoy being filled. Then quicker than you could process she pulled out and slammed back in.
You cried out, but Rio wasn't slowing down this time, pounding you again and again with deep, unapologetic thrusts.
âYou're mine. You hear that? Say it.â
âI'm yours, Rio.â You choked out, voice bouncing with her pistoning hips.
âYeah, youâre mine. My good girl.â
She leant forward, her breasts flush against your back, as she sank her teeth into your shoulder, leaving behind a delightful sting.
Rio wasn't usually one for quickies but tonight she'd make an exception. There was a desperation inside of her stronger than mere lust. She had to see you cum.
She twisted her arm around your hip so she could work your clit, rubbing in a frenzy. âTell me you want me.â
âWant you. Need you.â
âThen cum for me Baby, I know you can do it.â
Rio was nothing short of amazing. The concentrated skill on your clit and the near supernatural speed of her thrusts unraveled you like only she could.
Your mouth fell open and your walls clenched around her in a strangling hold as lust threatened to burn you alive.
âGod! Rio!â
You came all over her and right on cue she emptied her cock inside of you, filling you to your very core with what felt like neverending ropes of cum, trapped inside of you by her refusal to pull out.
âI'm never gonna let anyone else do this to you, baby.â She breathed out, mouth returning to your shoulder to lick over the bite mark she left. âNever, for all eternity, I'm yours, and youâre mine.â
#rio vidal x reader#rio vidal smut#agatha all along#agatha all along x reader#marvel x reader#marvel smut#mcu x reader#marvel imagine#rio vidal#aubrey plaza
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Hi lovie a lil request if u pls! I would love to see Sirius (but could also be down with one of the other boys if ur not feeling him) with a gf who has a migraine and just him doting on her
alternatively could also do it's like early in the relationship and she tries to hide it from him?
Thanks for requesting!
cw: modern au, migraine
Sirius Black x fem!reader ⥠997 words
You decide to text Sirius rather than braving the lights and sounds of the living room. You keep your phone brightness on low, clicking your screen off as soon as itâs sent.Â
Do you have any painkillers I could use?
You feel guilty for commandeering Siriusâ bedroom like this. Youâre supposed to be cooking dinner together, but when you came home with the groceries youâd asked meekly if heâd mind if you napped for a while. He offered to make it himself so itâll be ready when you get up. You sort of dread when that will be. You know youâd feel better back at your own place, but you donât trust yourself to drive like this, with pain taking all your concentration and spots and lines flashing across your vision, so instead youâre spoiling the evening you and Sirius had planned together. Now youâre asking him to wait on you, too.Â
Sirius doesnât respond to your text, but you hear him moving. The soft thump of footsteps coming down the hall and the quiet sshk of a drawer coming open.Â
âJust a nap, huh?â he murmurs as he comes into the bedroom. He sits by your knees on the bed, shaking a couple of pills into his hand. âDoes something hurt, lovely?â
âYeah,â you manage a hoarse whisper as he passes you the pills and the glass of water heâs brought you. âSorry. My head.âÂ
âI thought something might be wrong,â he admits, keeping his voice low. âYou got awfully quiet earlier. Why didnât you say?â
You set the glass on his nightstand after downing the pills. Cover your eyes with the hand cool with condensation. âIâm sorry. I didnât want to ruin our night.âÂ
Sirius tuts softly. âDonât worry about that.â His hand finds your forehead, first feeling for a fever and then brushing a few pieces of hair back from your eyes, but he stops when your face tightens. âItâs quite bad?âÂ
You make a low humming sound. âItâs a migraine. I get them, sometimes.âÂ
âOh, sweetheart.â Sirius takes his hand away from you, though by the pain in his voice it costs him to do it. âIâm sorry. What can I do?â
âI just need to lie with it for a bit. Hopefully itâll calm down. I have things to help at home, but I donât think I can make it there right now.âÂ
âWhat sort of things?âÂ
You tell him, admittedly somewhat short in your speech. Sirius doesnât seem to mind. He leaves you to rest afterwards, and you hardly hear him again until nearly an hour later. You think dinner has to have long since been ready, but when Sirius comes back into his bedroom itâs not with food.Â
You watch through slitted eyes as he creeps into the corner, plugging in a machine that starts billowing steam up into the room. He fiddles with it for a moment, and soon youâre aware of a familiar scent upon the air, floral and relaxing.Â
âDid you get that from my place?âÂ
Sirius jumps, pressing a hand to his chest as he turns around. âFuck, babe, I thought you were sleeping. No, I didnât want to ask you to give me your key.âÂ
You look at the essential oil diffuser. âHuh. Looks just like mine.âÂ
âWell, good. Hopefully itâll work just as well, then.â Sirius stands, typing something into his phone. âDo you think those binaural beats things will help right now, or will they keep you from falling asleep?âÂ
âMânot falling asleep anyway,â you mumble half bitterly, but your boyfriend only nods. He connects his phone to a small speaker and sets it by the bed. âTell me you didnât go buy a diffuser?â
Sirius looks at you, raising an eyebrow as a low, soothing thrum starts to emanate from the speaker on the nightstand. âNot sure what you want me to say then. Would you have rather I broke into your place to get one?â
âSirius.â Your voice drops to a whisper. âYou didnât have to. Thatâs so sweet.âÂ
âOh.â He brightens. âGood then. Thereâs a weighted mask in the freezer, too, by the way. Thought Iâd give it a minute to chill first.âÂ
Youâre starting to feel slightly teary, which isnât really what you want during a migraine. âThatâs really kind of you.âÂ
âDonât mention it. Couldnât have the world's loveliest girl suffering here in my own home, could I?â He smiles softly, looking like heâs going to reach for your face again before he stops himself.Â
âYou can touch me,â you say quietly.Â
Siriusâ brows twitch together. âYeah? Are you sure?âÂ
âMhm. I feel a bit better than before.âÂ
âCould I kiss you as well?âÂ
You canât stop your lips from curving, just a little. âYeah.âÂ
Sirius smiles, too, pressing his lips gently to yours. He doesnât stop there. âBetter than before doesnât seem quite well enough,â he murmurs as his affections grace your cheek, your closed eyelid, the space between your brows, âbut weâll get you there soon, I think. Remus sometimes has migraines, too. I called him and he said a massage might help, if it suits you. Just while your mask is getting cold.âÂ
âYeah?â you ask on a breath. âIâve never tried that.âÂ
âDo you wanna?â
You nod, and he gets you to roll onto your front, thumbs finding the tight muscles of your neck. Itâs not a skillful massage, but Sirius is a quick learner, and soon you find the tension from your face to your shoulders relaxing from his ministrations. The air smells of lavender, the room pulses with a low, resounding hum, and Siriusâ touch bleeds affection into your skin.Â
âThank you for doing this,â you mumble, words slurred with relaxation.Â
âDonât know what youâre thanking me for,â he hums back. âI told you, I have the worldâs loveliest girl right here in my own home. Great power comes with great responsibility and all that, right?â
Youâre too enamored to even scoff.
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x self insert#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#sirius black fluff#sirius black hurt/comfort#sirius black imagine#sirius black drabble#sirius black scenario#sirius black blurb#sirius black oneshot#sirius black one shot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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on the cusp of my inner child walking into the sunset to give my inner teenager a quick hive five and wave her into the matrix I will say that this used to be the song that I had looping in my head all the time today at the bunny store the owner was frustrated and I was hyperfocused on that energy whenever she was in the room like I expected her to tell me to get out or accuse me of something and then I heard the hum of my heart who wanted to give her something to be frustrated about and let me tell you I really do understand now why someone says proudly when their caretakers were mostly dysfunctional and lost "I raised myself" I raised my daughter and myself like I wished I had been raised like she and my soul were twins in a way so alike but also completely separate people now I recognize in my son where I may have misunderstood him especially with my autism and ADHD I did the best with what I knew but learning about how I process information and how I used to shut him down for things he couldn't help that I am now experiencing I'm only glad that I have time to be better I have time to bridge the distance that I know I feel and have created by not understanding and now that I understand I can do so much better my son and I are so alike and he has my eyes there's this gentle spirit to him he's so calm and quiet most of the time and even I project weird things that happen in my head onto him and he looks at me with such confusion when I do and I apologize profusely because I hate when that happens to me and I hate that I accidently do it to him a look that says "what the fuck? do you even know me?!" there's this furious spirit that shows up when anyone pushes him too far and buddy that spirit is going to win the last thing he wants is to be held when he's overstimulated and when he says he needs space alone he means it and when he's calmed himself he'll show up again and we'll talk when I fucked up and apologize I know he truly forgives me and I'm not used to being forgiven sometimes it felt like I was never forgiven but he trusts me and I know he knows I'm doing the best that I can but I'll still prove it to him that he's worth understanding and knowing not just being guessed at anyways, he's the better version of me he hasn't had to survive like me but he has had to endure the chronic misunderstanding and dissmissal of a way of experiencing and communicating to this world in a sensitive and interesting way he's teaching me what middle schoolers actually worry about when they aren't playing mortal hide and seek with dysfunctional family and it's help me understand myself a lot and where I've gone wrong sometimes but I'll fix it I'll fix it now it's time for me to meet who I was in high school and she doesn't want peace she wants justice and I need to learn how to blend all this together and keep some compromises and actually say what's on my heart even if someone tells me it's not real because I don't think I'm taking hostages anymore you're on the ship or you're walking the plank hope you can swim but here's a quick life preserver while you're in the water waiting for someone to float by her first idea would have been to burn the entire ship so like I said compromise I'm so tired lmao
canât emphasize enough how when you grew up in a toxic environment, being in the room with someone whoâs angry or frustrated - even if it has nothing to do with you - is absolutely terrifying cuz youâve been 1000% conditioned to assume frustration = all hell is going to break lose and be aimed directly at you
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Okay, maybe Ratio x gn!reader tarte aux fraises? i know u love ratio muehehe
.note. omg oke oke, i know what i have to do. ( âĄÌ_âĄÌ)ဠ(I always end up writing so many words that I have to erase pieces of the original idea. T_T)
đ
new order. "tarte aux fraises."
Try hard
pairing. dr ratio x gn!reader cw/genre. angst, academic pressure, ratio being rude, again. synopsis. Like he said, you just need to try hard. And if you can't handle the pressure, what better than to withdraw from medical school? full menu
"No," His eyes on you, by those sharp words, coming together with the other glances of your classmates.
"Uhm, would it be a possible case of appendicitis?" You spoke, something nervous, but your words were almost like a question rather than an affirmation.
"Wrong,"
His voice again, almost as if he were glad of your mistake.
"Are you answering or are you asking me, Y/N?" Ratio spoke, almost with a despicable tone.
You just looked down.
It was almost always the same, for him, all your answers are wrong, he always had to find something wrong with what you said.
"If you're going to answer again as your classmate, refrain from talking and just say you didn't study anything." Ratio said, for all your classmates in the room.
"Honestly, I don't even know why I still continue teaching some of you."
Oh, and you knew perfectly well that he was referring to you.
He says, almost as if your existence were a total nonsense for him.
"All of you are dumb, you all have the same level of intelligence as an Earthworm, maybe a little less than one even." His words come out almost sharp again.
"How can it be possible you can't even answer the simplest question?" Ratio spoke out, almost frustrated by the lack of intelligence on most of his students.
Your cheeks became red, the way Ratio spoke was always so harsh, so harsh and direct, and even more so if it was you who answered a question, he never missed an opportunity to show that you were wrong in front of everyone else.
"Now, that's enough chit-chat, back to the topic." He looked at the board, his expression was somewhat serious, his arms behind his back, as he stood in the middle of the classroom.
"The appendix is a small, worm-like structure that branches off the back of the colon. It's located in the lower right lobe of the abdomen. The main problem with appendicitis is when it becomes infected and then blocks all waste product from leaving the colon." He spoke, standing at the front of the class.
"What does that mean?" he spoke again. This time with a much easier question than he asked you.
"Mhm, you," he pointed to a student.
"âŠThat means all the waste from everything that comes through the digestive system doesn't have anywhere to go, and can back up into all of your abdominal cavity," She said, with some nerves, but keeping her words as firm as she could.
"Correct." He spoke, as he saw her answer, with a much calmer expression this time.
"The appendix becomes inflamed and very sensitive when an infection begins to form in it. You can experience fever chills that go down into your groin like cold water. The most common pain is in the abdomen, specifically in the lower right side. It can be mistaken for a stomach ache, or even menstrual cramps. But with further care, it can be determined as appendicitis." Ratio speaks again, almost a little happier.
"Anyone else?" He asked.
"If there is no intervention, it could explode," this time you dared to speak again, trying to sound firm.
"A precise answer, even from you, for a change," He spoke with a little more than a sarcastic tone, but as usual, he can't seem to say anything without adding an annoyed tone to everything he says.
"That's true. An appendix that is left untreated can burst, or perforate. But not always because of pain close to the appendix area will be necessary to remove or attempt an intervention." He says, as he returns to look at the board.
"If the appendix bursts, the pain might go away, but a much worse process, is going to start. The appendix will begin to break down, and the bacteria and pus from the organ can pass into the abdominal cavity, causing a widespread and severe infection. This is called peritonitis." Ratio spoke, his voice almost firm, and serious again.
You felt somewhat calmer, but still, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.
Was it necessary that I always talk to you like this?
Because after all, you were his partner.
Ratio kept his eyes on you for a few moments, as if analyzing your expression. He almost always knew when you had those thoughts.
As he finishes speaking, the class bell begins to ring, almost as a sign that the class just ended.
"You are all dismissed." Ratio said, putting his hands behind his back, his eyes looking at the students as they began to leave the room.
You focused on keeping your stuff, without a hurry, because you weren't very excited to eat in medical school. The food wasn't so good or appetizing there.
The room was getting emptier and emptier, except for just the two of you, since you were the last one to leave.
Ratio leaned against the front of the desk, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, he had something in mind to discuss with you.
"Y/N." His voice came out quite firm, and almost demanding.
"Yes?" Your voice almost sounded like a whisper, a whisper of nervousness, still, you answered him.
You could already feel what kind of a talk he was going to have with you now
Ratio seemed quite serious, his eyes almost fixed on you, as if analyzing your every move.
He waited a few seconds before speaking. He still retained his serious expression.
"You're falling behind on a lot of the classes." He spoke, with an almost severe voice.
You just looked down.
He knew that you didn't always answer very intelligently, but it seemed like he just liked using every single opportunity he got to be harsh on you.
His arms were still crossed in front of his chest, keeping his position in front of the desk.
"I knowâŠ" your voice came out a little smaller this time.
Ratio sighed, he didn't change his position or expression, on the other hand, yours became somewhat more tense, you already knew that he was far from finished.
"Not only that," he continued to speak, his voice now more demanding.
"You don't usually answer my questions as intelligently as you should. You answer in ways that are almost as unintelligent as the others." he spoke again, his voice slightly higher than before.
"You know you should study more."
Again, a tone that seemed somewhat irritated.
"I am,"
"You're not." Ratio continued, his voice suddenly became very firm.
You can't help but feel even more self-conscious, more tensed than before.
He was right, even if he was, he didn't always have to say it that way.
"I don't even know why you're still in this class, if you've answered right a small percentage of times."
"But i'm trying, Ratio," You spoke, this time directing yourself towards him as your equal, as you did in private.
"Trying," He repeated. "You are just not trying hard enough."
Ratio's hands now moved from his chest, to his sides, still leaning against the table.
That didn't seem to change his expression at all, the same seriousness.
"You need to study more, you need to stop falling behind so much, to be more firm, and at least,"
He stopped, for a few seconds, as if thinking of his next words.
"To answer my questions correctly more times than you already do, stop with this mediocrity."
His tone became almost more severe.
"Honestly, I don't know why you don't take your time to pay more attention." He continued, with that severe, demanding tone.
"You're not in your old secondary education anymore, these are more complex medical concepts to treat complex diseases."
He said again, still keeping his tone and position.
"I'm going to try harder," you said.
"You better."
Ratio's answer was short, but the seriousness with which it was given almost made you even more tensed.
Again, a few seconds of silence, Ratio seemed to be thinking of his next words.
"I'm going to start being more demanding with youâŠ" he spoke, leaning a little more against the desk, his eyes still fixed on you.
"I won't let you pass with the bare minimum in my classes" The feeling you have after you hear those words is the most nervous of all.
Ratio always got that demanding, and hard tone when talking to you about studies.
You know perfectly how serious he was when he said that.
"I won't go easy on you anymore," he says, in a much firmer tone.
"From now on if you don't answer correctly more times than you do now, you won't pass my classes."
Ratio was very strict with his classes, and even more so when it came to you.
"No more mediocre answers, I want you to start actually using that brain that you have." His tone now very demanding.
"You are going to start giving more intelligent answers, and not stupid ones that any other student could give."
A few days have passed since that talk between you and Ratio.
He has become much more demanding, and much stricter with his classes.
His questions were much harder to answer, and he always waited for intelligent answers from you.
He had put you in the spotlight every time you were in class, he had increased the number of questions he asked you, and every time you answered, he seemed to be analyzing your every word.
But of course, you noticed, in your nervousness after saying 'medium-great' answers, how your classmates didn't answers difficult questions like you. Not to mention that there were always two or one student whom he always congratulated for her efforts.
Ratio continued with the same demanding attitude, continuing to set high standards for you.
He kept asking you difficult questions, and even if you answered one correctly, he would go on to another, more complex one.
He didn't miss a single opportunity to point out your failures, and you could always see the satisfaction on his face, whenever you got the answer wrong.
Even now, you can feel his gaze on you, as if he's waiting for you to say something wrong, to see him frown.
The way he seemed to be always focused on you in the class, no matter how hard you answered the questions.
Everyone could tell that even though you were his partner, he didn't spare you from his demands for answers.
You had to constantly use that huge book, and study more and more every day. It was becoming tiresome because you barely had time for anything else, and on the other hand, your classmates seemed to be studying less than you.
The bell for the end of class had just been rung, the majority of the class was already picking their stuff to leave.
But you knew very well that Ratio was still there waiting for you to approach.
And yes, you were going to do that.
With calm steps and somewhat anxious, you approached the large desk near the board.
"Uhm, Veritas?" You said, carefully.
"Can we eat together?" You asked, knowing that after this class he would no longer dictate another one in the day, and you too, had no other class for today.
Ratio was sorting through some papers, putting them in various folders on his desk, with that same serious expression he had the rest of the time.
When he heard your voice, he stopped sorting papers, and looked at you.
His eyes seemed sharper every time you looked into them.
Without taking his eyes off you, he placed the last folder in place, and rested his hands on the table.
He didn't answer immediately, as if he was thinking about your request.
"Is there a reason?"
Ratio's tone was somewhat firm, his eyes still fixed on you, as if questioning why you, out of nowhere, suddenly wanted to eat with him.
"No,"
You didn't really know why, either.
Maybe it was because you didn't want to be left alone. Or maybe because you needed a break, your brain had been filled with so much knowledge, so much information that you felt it was going to explode.
"I just want to be with you," Your voice coming out a little more nervous this time.
Ratio was still looking at you, his eyes, very much analyzing you, as if he was searching for a real reason.
It was always like this with him, he never answered anything immediately.
Still, he didn't take his eyes off you, as if he was analyzing your thoughts, your request, and your every action.
Finally, after a few seconds, he spoke.
"Did you study?" He spoke, with that demanding but firm tone. His gaze was still fixed on you.
Your body slightly tensed up. You knew that if you hadn't, he probably wouldn't eat with you.
Even if he was your boyfriend, he was always like this.
"I did," Your voice came out with a small firmness, you actually spent the night studying.
Ratio kept looking at you carefully, his expression didn't change, he seemed to still be analyzing you, as if searching for lies in your eyes.
"How many hours?" His tone was still demanding, but he always made sure to correct you, to be even firmer with his words.
On the other hand, you were getting nervous. It was true that you spent all night studying, you didn't even have time to sleep, but if you said that, he would probably make you feel guilty for it.
So to not prolong the question, you gave a firm answer.
"Six hours, I swear."
Your voice was still firm, but nervousness was clearly expressed in it.
Ratio didn't change his expression, his eyes were still fixed on you, as if he could tell if you were lying or not.
He kept looking at you, in those few seconds he didn't say anything. Still looking at you, until he broke the silence.
"You haven't slept any?" His tone was much more demanding this time, his brows slightly furrowed, as if telling you that it was a mistake.
You knew perfectly well that it was a mistake, you already regretted it the moment you said it.
A small feeling of guilt took hold of your body, knowing that you were about to be scowled for that.
"NoâŠ"
You said, trying to keep your voice somewhat firm, but nervousness was present in it.
Ratio crossed his arms in front of his chest, and his eyes became more severe, almost with annoyance at your answer.
You knew perfectly well that that would happen.
"How are you going to study properly if you don't even sleep?" He questioned, in a demanding tone, as usual.
If you didn't sleep, he would scold you and if you slept, he would scold you too.
At the endings, it happened, as always, you even shed a few tears.
And it seems that that gave him remorse and he ended up agreeing to eat with you.
Your eyes were somewhat swollen, not much, but they were.
He made sure to hold your hand while eating quietly in a cafe near medical school.
You could notice how he was looking at your eyes almost every second, as if seeing the tiredness in them.
He almost looked like he felt guilty for making you cry, but he would deny it.
Ratio knew how demanding he could be, and how it could affect you.
But of course, he didn't apologize, because that would imply admitting that he was wrong.
You could see how he squeezed your hand, carefully while eating, as if making sure that your hand wouldn't slip from his.
It was quite obvious that he felt regret for making you cry. No matter how hard he denied it, his actions and his grip on your hand would always give it away.
The rest of the lunch was a little quiet, both of you only spoke a few words from time to time, not a lot.
He still continued to eat in silence, watching you from time to time.
His grip was firm on your hand, a little tight, but it didn't bother you, it was rather calming for you.
When he finished eating, he got up, and pulled you to get up from your chair.
He still had a firm grip on your hand.
"Let's go." Was the only thing he said, as he started to walk out of the cafeteria with you, your hand still attached to his.
Ratio started walking, with you following behind with your hand in his.
He wasn't walking too fast, or very slow, he was walking at a reasonable pace, but he made sure that you kept up.
He pulled you to stick to his side, and he made sure to look at you every few seconds.
You were walking in almost total silence, no one dared to say anything, and this was a little strange. Normally he was the first to say something.
His tight grip on your hand, his way of looking at you from time to time, made you feel a little nervous, but at the same time calm.
He didn't say anything as he walked, but you dared to say something.
"Where are we going?" You asked quietly, looking up slightly at him as you walked.
He looked at you, and his grip squeezed yours a little. Ratio spoke again.
"To my apartment." He replied, in the same firm tone.
"To your apartment?" You were a bit startled by that answer, because there was no way he was taking you to his apartment.
"Don't be tense." Ratio said, his tone was somewhat firm, but softer than before.
Before you could say anything else, he continued to speak, his words were firm and demanding, almost leaving no room for questioning.
"We're going to there, you're going to take a shower, and then you're going to take a long nap.
"I don't-"
Before you could reply, Ratio quickly cut you off. "I don't care what you're about to say, you need to rest."
He spoke with that firm but authoritative tone.
"You're going to take a damn shower, and you're going to take a damn nap for as long as it takes to get you back in shape."
In a way, that made you smile.
His actions showed you that he still cared about you.
The last few days that had passed, were⊠very different. You spent them at Ratio's apartment.
Each day ended with him scolding you for studying so much, and falling asleep on his couch on several occasions.
You loved those moments with him, in spite of everything, you were really in love with him.
However, as quickly as those butterflies arrived in your stomach, they disappeared faster than they appeared.
"Incorrect again, Y/N,"
He said, holding his hand to the bridge of his nose.
"U-uhâŠ" you said, feeling watched and judged by all your classmates at that moment.
You were currently in practical classes, you no longer just theorize.
"Less than a minute for the patient to bleed," he commented again, ratio, with total disapproval in his speech.
You stayed there, thinking about what to do, your mind running in circles to decide what to do.
And, without further ado, the girl that Ratio always congratulated, took her tweezers from your hands, starting to suture the patient.
You felt so stupid in that instant, the classmate that Ratio always complimented, always approved of her, even congratulated her, had just taken your tweezers from your hands.
You felt the gaze of your classmates on you. You could see that they were either feeling sorry for you, or judging you.
Ratio was silent, he looked irritated, but he wasn't scolding you.
The classmate who took the tweezers from her hands, finished suturing the patient completely, in what seemed to be a couple of seconds.
Talent always wins the effort.
"You've failed another suture." Ratio spoke, almost annoyed by your failure.
As always, whenever you made a mistake, he was always making sure to point it out, making sure to shame you in front of the rest of the class.
His disappointment was evident on his face, in his tone, his gestures.
"It's ridiculous, you can't even put a few damn stitches on a fake wound. How are you going to be a real doctor if you're always messing up everything?" His words were harsh, very much. His expression and his eyes, sharp, as always.
"You're not taking this seriously, you're making the same mistakes again and again." He continued, in the same irritated tone.
How could someone who studied so much, who spent many hours studying, fail so much? How could you fail so much, even though you spent so much time with the person who always seemed dissatisfied with you?
Your classmates' gaze, Ratio's gaze, your own self-judgment, and your frustration for being a complete failure, was too much. You felt your eyes begin to tear up, you could feel your hands shaking. You felt more and more nervous with every word coming out of his mouth. It wasn't just from the pressure, it was also from the frustration.
How was it possible, that he had so much patience, and complimented your classmate, even celebrated that she could suturate a patient, when you couldn't do the same?
His words, his looks of disappointment, they were starting to take their toll on you.
"You're right, doctor," you said, accepting his words, so that he would at least stop scolding you publicly. Ratio kept looking at you, that annoyed look still on his face.
You looked really small in his eyes. Small and weak, a complete failure. That's how he saw you at that moment.
"At this rate, I'm tempted to say that you're never going to be a good doctor."
You just nodded, not knowing what to answer, or if you should respond to that in the first place. The medical career was not easy, there were always scolding for everyone, but not scolding all classes with him.
You heard him say, 'Well, let's continueâŠ', as he moved on to another kind of exercise.
You let your other classmates get closer to the practice stretcher, staying at the end of the group.
All you just did was play with your fingers and bite your lip, so you didn't cry. Because you couldn't even get out of the practice chirophan, because you'd have low grade. Although well, what a lower grade could he put on you if you already pulled the first exercise.
You looked up in the direction of Ratio, who was correcting a couple of your classmates on something. He was always correcting something, especially you.
Your eyes were beginning to become slightly red.
You really hated the suturations practices, you were never good at putting in a few damn stitches.
You were always clumsy, and your hands always trembled when you took the tweezers, like they were shaking now.
Why weren't you as talented as them? Why couldn't you even do something as simple as suturing?
"You're shaking, are you alright?" A voice came from behind you, you recognized who it was immediately.
It was the classmate who always did sutures perfectly, the one Ratio always complimented. She had a worried expression in her eyes, but you couldn't help but feel complete rejection and repulsion towards her.
Her question made you feel more humiliated.
"I'm fine." You replied, trying to sound firm, when in reality, your voice was on the verge of cracking.
She looked at you, not seeming to buy the answer you gave her.
She could see your hands shaking and you were biting your lip, it didn't seem like you were fine.
"Are you sure? You don't look very-" she tried to speak once more, but you didn't want her to continue.
"I said I'm fine, alright. Stop asking me that." You said, a little harshly, hoping that would make her shut up. Her eyes widened slightly at your response, she was surprised by your response. But, instead of being angry, she continued to look sorry for you.
"I'm just trying to-" she was about to say something again, but you were already fed up with her.
You were fucking jealous of her.
"Well, I don't want you to! Stop acting like you care about me!" You snapped at her, your voice louder than you expected it to be.
The rest of the class had turned their heads at you, including Ratio.
Why the hell did you do that?
The whole room was silent, the only noise present was your agitated breathing.
Ratio walked up to you, his eyes firmly on yours. He looked irritated, no, he looked angry at your reaction.
"To the hallway, now." He said firmly, gesturing for you to walk towards the hall.
You felt the eyes of your classmates on you, as you slowly walked out of the class, with Ratio behind you.
Once you got into the hallway, he closed the door behind him, leaving both of you alone in the hallway.
He looked at you, you could see irritation in his eyes.
He was completely irritated with the attitude you just had.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He said, his voice almost sounded like a whisper, but still firm.
"Why the hell did you lash out at her like that?" He continued, he was waiting for an answer, an explanation for your behavior, and he wouldn't accept any bullshit excuse.
You stood there, not knowing what to say, and avoiding looking directly at him.
You didn't know how to explain your attitude, you yourself didn't even understand why you had done that.
Maybe it was because you were irritated, annoyed by her, or just because Ratio paid more attention to her or others than to you, no matter how much you studied.
And you couldn't understand why that girl was always so perfect either. The perfect student, the one who always did the exercises and sutures perfectly.
You were increasingly sure that talent far outperforms effort.
As you stood there, avoiding looking at him, Ratio was growing more and more impatient as the minutes passed. He expected some explanation, an answer to his question. But all he got was silence and you avoiding his gaze.
"Are you going to answer or just stay there, biting your lip?" He spoke again, this time with a firmer tone.
Again, you stayed there, still and saying nothing.
"Okay, then," he said, entering the practice chirophan and closing the door behind him.
You stood there, outside the practice chirophan, alone, on your own, with only your thoughts swirling around your head. You could still hear your classmates continuing practicing suturing in the chirophan, while you were left outside.
Your mind was a mess, going from one thought to another, from one feeling to another; anger, frustration, confusion, disappointment.
And jealousy. A lot of jealousy.
You could hear Ratio's voice, scolding other students. And again, you heard him compliment the girl who always does sutures perfectly.
She was talented, she was perfect, the best student in his eyes. He seemed to adore her, much more than he praised you.
It was not possible to know with that man, he was a mystery.
You walked over and sat down on one of the seats in the hallway, your body completely tired. Both physically and mentally.
Poor girl, you were jealous of her, when not even she did it on purpose to be better than you.
The lesson was finally over.
You were sitting in the hallway, waiting for the whole class to leave, so you could enter and say something to Ratio.
But, to your annoyance, the girl who always did the perfect sutures, was one of the last to leave.
She was going to talk to Ratio, it was obvious.
So, you stayed in the hallway, watching as Ratio and that girl talked for a long time.
She looked happy, with a smile on her face. Ratio seemed in a good mood, he was listening to her speaking calmly. In fact, he was smiling, he was never usually that warm.
That image, that situation, it only irritated your mind more.
But you wouldn't do anything, because there was nothing to do.
Besides that in medical school, he was your teacher, not your boyfriend. So professionalism on his part was always ahead.
As the last student left, Ratio opened the practice chirophan and found you sitting on one of the seats in the hallway.
He looked at you, and for the first time, he had a slight hint of disappointment on his face.
He just looked at you for a few seconds, almost as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't.
He just let out a slight, silent, almost inaudible sigh.
"Come here." He said, gesturing to you to walk towards him.
You stood up, from the seat. You were about to walk towards him but, you suddenly felt nervous, your heart beating a little faster.
What if he wants to discuss that you're always getting low notes on the practical work?
Or maybe he wants to tell you that your effort is useless, because you'll never be as good as the other students.
Or even, he wants to kick you out of class for your recent behavior.
However, his words surprised you.
"I'm going to help you study," he said.
You really expected another scolding from him, but his words were soft.
Perhaps the excellent work of the best student in your class had change his mood.
"But I don't-"
Before you could respond, he cut you off, almost knowing what you were going to answer.
"I wasn't asking you, I was telling you." He said firmly.
He wasn't leaving room for questioning, if he was going to help you study, there was no use in trying to decline his offer.
In spite of everything, you couldn't help but get excited.
The thought of having his attention, and having an extra private class with him. You were really going to like it, you wanted to be alone with him.
In a way, it was a great opportunity to show him what you were capable of doing, and that you too had potential.
He gave you a small smile, as he saw the reaction on your face. And then he added, "We're starting today."
âŠ
You liked being next to him, you feel like at school, almost like a teenage romance.
You were writing carefully what he explained to you, while he had an arm on your shoulders.
It moved you and made you nervous, even though your relationship was almost two years now.
He explained, corrected and commented, as usual. You nodded, listened and wrote what he said.
Everything was going well, until he suddenly paused, and he let out a sigh.
"There's something important I need to tell you." He said, suddenly, in a serious tone.
Your hands suddenly froze halfway between the page and writing. His words, his tone, his gaze. It made you feel nervous, your heartbeat increasing.
"What is it?"
Your voice came out in a somewhat nervous tone.
For a few seconds, he was serious, he didn't say anything, he just looked at you.
His eyes looking into yours, in a somewhat serious and intimidating way, before his expression suddenly change to one of slight annoyance.
"What the hell was that, what you did the other day?"
Ratio asked, suddenly changing the subject of the conversation.
You tensed up a bit, and bit your lip.
You knew immediately that he was referring to the little tantrum you threw, that day.
"I wasâŠ" you were at a loss for words, you didn't know what to say.
"I was just frustrated." You finally managed to say, your voice a bit low.
"Frustrated, right."
Ratio responded, in a slightly mocking tone.
"So you were frustrated, and you decided to take it out on a classmate, in front of the entire class?" Ratio looked at you, with that same serious and slightly annoyed expression.
Your heart was beating fast, you felt slightly guilty, knowing you acted inappropriately.
"I know it wasn't the best way to react, butâŠ" you tried to explain yourself.
"No buts." He cut you off. "You embarrassed yourself, and you embarrassed me with your poor and childish behavior. As your teacher, I shouldn't have to deal with your tantrums.
His words stung a little, you felt ashamed.
But there was something else, behind his words. The mention of 'As your teacher'.
"I know, I'm sorry." You mumbled, looking down to the floor.
"I expect you to act like an adult. So I hope you'll apologize to your classmate." He said.
"I will."
You said, still avoiding his gaze, you didn't want to see his eyes, to see his expression.
That day wasn't the only one he helped you study on.
But as always, for him, everything was wrong in answers or in your diagnoses.
As you wrote down one of the last points of the list he had given you, he spoke up, looking at what you had written.
"That is incorrect," he said as he looked at one of the points.
You looked up at him, your eyes wide at his words. How could it have been wrong? The doubt began to consume your mind, and you felt frustrated that you weren't able to do everything perfectly.
Your frustration was beginning to grow, you had just spent hours studying and here he was telling you that you had all the things wrong.
You tried to protest, you tried to explain your answers, but he shut you down every time. His voice became sharper and firmer every time, he was losing patience with you and your constant mistakes.
Finally, he slammed the book on the table, the loud noise echoing through the empty room.
"That's it, enough. You're not getting anything right," he said, his voice stern.
You felt a pang in your chest from hearing his words. How was it possible that not a single thing you wrote was correct? Why couldn't you understand the concepts? Why were you always making mistakes?
Your hands began to tremble as you clutched the pen in your hand, your heart beating fast
You wanted to scream out in frustration and ask him why you weren't getting the answers right, but you knew he wouldn't be patient with you anymore.
"You should try harder, I'm going to do an exam on these topics for you all," he said.
And yes, you had to study alone, as you normally did.
But you didn't really understand why you didn't get any answers right.
Literally that's what books said, your answers were even the same.
So, what was happening to you?
That test was going to be in a week, and you were extremely stressed about it.
You had to prepare for the exam given by Ratio, but it wasn't easy. Despite reading the material multiple times, something wasn't clicking in your head.
The formulas, the methods, the diagnoses, nothing stayed in your head. And when you attempted to answer the questions, you found yourself making mistake after mistake.
After studying a few nights on your own, it was time to take the exam.
The day of the exam had arrived.
The atmosphere in the classroom was tense, everyone seemed nervous. You were shaking, your hands trembling as you clutched the pen. Everyone around you seemed to understand the material, but you were struggling.
Ratio started handing out the test sheets to each one of you, until he reached your desk.
He placed the paper in front of you, and your breathing hitched.
You dared to hold your gaze on his, for at least a while, looking for some security that he could give you.
But there was no security in his gaze.
He didn't give you any special look, no secret glance or anything that could make you feel more confident.
His expression seemed serious, almost like a challenge. It was clear that he expected nothing from you, to his eyes you weren't going to do the test well.
He knew it, and you knew it.
And as he finished handing them out, he spoke.
"You have an hour to finish. Start now." He announced, before going back to his desk.
You looked down at the questions, and your heart sank.
They were difficult, they were complex, and they were things you had never seen before.
You felt your hands begin to sweat, and your mind went blank. You tried to recall the information you had studied, but it was like trying to remember a forgotten dream.
The other students around you seemed to have no trouble with the test, they were already beginning to answer the questions.
But you, on the other hand, were stuck on the first question. The words and numbers on the page became a blur, your mind in complete mess.
As minutes passed, you found yourself still struggling with the first question. Meanwhile, other classmates were already on the second or third.
The pressure was immense. You tried to focus, you tried to concentrate. But your mind was racing, your heart was pounding in your chest.
You could hear the sound of the other students' pens on the papers, the ticking of the clock on the wall, the silence of the classroom.
Every sound seemed to echo in your head and only added to your anxiety.
Time was ticking by quickly, and you could feel your anxiety growing with each passing minute.
You had already spent 45 minutes on one question, and you hadn't even reached the halfway point.
Until you saw some of your classmates raise their hand so that Ratio could approach them and answer their doubts about some questions.
They were getting help, while you just sat there, panicking.
You wanted to raise your hand, to ask for help, just like the other students.
But you didn't do it, you didn't dare to. You felt too ashamed and embarrassed to admit that you were having so much trouble with the test.
You just continued staring at the exam, trying to decipher the questions.
And, with only 4 questions out of 20, you dared to raise your hand as well, so that he can get closer as well.
You looked up a little bit on your exam, watching it approach students back and forth.
Your still hand raised, you even moved it a little bit, to see it.
And so he did, he saw you for a few seconds, before approaching another of your classmates.
Your heart sank again.
You couldn't believe what had just happened.
He knew you were struggling, he saw you with your hand raised. But despite that he avoided you and went to answer someone else's doubts.
You felt a pang of pain in your chest, like a stinging realization.
Ratio didn't want to help you, he was ignoring you.
You weren't like the good students, the ones he always said were talented. You were just the one who couldn't understand anything, no matter how hard you tried.
You lowered your hand again, feeling humiliated.
With your cheeks somewhat red from shame, you lowered your gaze towards your exam, almost empty.
You tried to do it, you really tried.
Without realizing it, your eyesight was blurred, as you continued to try to write down what you found most coherent.
You were crying in the middle of the exam. But what a shame.
Well, at least you didn't sob, you just let the tears slip out of your eyes, because because your head was somewhat tilted down, it was more accessible for the tears to come out.
The time passed, and the other students handed in the exam sheets, one by one. And you were still on your seat, trying to come up with at least a minimum of sense.
The tension in the room grew with each passing minute.
You could feel the weight of everyone's gaze, even if no one was looking at you directly. It was like everyone was silently waiting for you to finish, to see if you could do it or not.
But the answer to that was becoming more and more evident with every passing minute.
And yet, you still tried, you tried so hard to write something.
You felt a knot forming in your throat as you tried to hold back your tears, but it was difficult.
Ratio's words echoed in your head again, "You should try a little harder."
How much harder did he wanted you to try? You were already struggling to keep up, and now you were literally crying.
With all your effort, you managed to answer some more questions. But still, the test paper looked almost blank.
Many of your answers were incorrect, even if you had tried your best.
When the time finally ran out, Ratio spoke up.
"Time's up," he said in his usual strict tone, standing up from his desk. "Those of you who haven't handed in your sheets, do so now."
You felt a wave of dread wash over you. You were one of the few who still had the papers on their desk.
Slowly, you raised your head to see that almost everyone else had already handed their papers to him.
With shaking hands, you gathered the papers on your desk and got up.
Your legs felt weak, but you somehow managed to make your way to the desk.
Ratio was there, waiting for your paper. He looked slightly indifferent, as if he was expecting this outcome.
You handed him the sheets with trembling hands, feeling a sense of shame and embarrassment. The weight of your poor performance was heavy on you, and you avoided meeting his gaze.
He took the papers without a word, and as he did, your eyes darted down to the answers on the paper.
You could see his expression of disappointment.
âŠ
And it was worse than what you imagined.
Red marks and crosses were all over the page, almost each answer was incorrect.
After a week, he returned the exams to everyone in the classroom.
You didn't know how to hide your grade from the students sitting near you.
There was a big 0 on the exam cover.
A 0, no points at all. You had failed the test completely, and the evidence was there, for everyone to see.
The shame and humiliation hit you like a wave. Everyone was looking at their grades, comparing them and discussing among themselves. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.
Ratio spoke up again, drawing everyone's attention. "As you can see, the results of the exam were⊠Disappointing."
He said, his eyes skimming over the class.
His eyes landed on some students, commenting on their good grades.
"But, there were some good grades. Congratulations to those who did well." He spoke, in a matter-of-fact tone.
You knew you'd never be like them.
When he finished the class, it was relatively short, as most of the time it was used to solve the exam together.
You rushed to grab your stuff by keeping your exam in your bag, before you left the big classroom, feeling nauseous.
The rest of the day passed by, but the shame and humiliation from the exam still lingered. You couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment, and the thought that you were the worst in the class.
You tried to avoid your classmates' gazes, fearing they would whisper or make fun of you.
The hours went by slowly, until the day had ended. You found yourself walking back home, feeling down, with your head hung low.
And then, you suddenly heard a voice calling out to you. "Y/N," the familiar voice said, and you froze.
You knew who it was.
Slowly, you turned around to see Ratio standing there, a few metres away from you. His expression was serious, his eyes fixed on you. Your heart started racing again, and you nervously clutched your bag strap tighter. What did he want?
He walked closer to you, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
He stopped a few steps away from you, looking down at you.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, his voice firm. You swallowed hard, nodding silently.
You were too afraid to speak, your throat was dry, as if you had never swallowed saliva again.
He motioned for you to follow him, as he walked towards a quieter part of the hallway, where there were less classroms.
Finally, he stopped in a quieter spot, turning to look at you.
He looked directly into your eyes for a moment, his gaze intense.
There was a moment of silence before he spoke, his voice softer than usual.
"I suppose you know why I wanted to talk to you," he began, tilting his head slightly.
You nodded again, knowing what he wanted to talk about. The failed exam.
"YesâŠ" you whispered, your voice barely heard.
He let out a small sigh.
"Your performance on the exam⊠It was quite unsatisfactory."
His words were straightforward, he didn't hide his disappointment.
Your heart sank even further.
He was saying what you already knew, what he already wrote on the paper of red marks and crosses.
"I didn't expect much, to be completely honest. But I didn't expect suchâŠbad results." He added, raising an eyebrow.
His words hurt, but you didn't say anything, you just stood there, looking down.
"I just don't understand," he continued, "I made sure to explain the concepts thoroughly. Why did you fail so badly?"
His tone was serious, he really wanted an answer from you.
"I really don't know," you mumble. Ratio let out a small huff, clearly not satisfied with your answer.
He looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying you.
"You know, I've been teaching for years. I've seen many students who struggle, but not to this extent. You weren't able to answer any question correctly."
"I wanted help, Ratio," you said, again, muttering.
And yes, you tried to raise your hand so that he could also approach you that time, but he just looked at you and didn't come close.
You looked up weakly toward his eyes, holding his gaze a few seconds.
"I tried to ask for help from you, I raised my hand, but you ignored me," you confessed, your voice almost breaking.
He was silent for a moment, his expression slightly changing.
He seemed a little surprised that you had mentioned that.
He was about to open his mouth to speak, but then your voice spoke up again.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" You said, with a hurt voice, and your eyes started to feel moist.
His expression softened slightly. He wasn't expecting that question.
He saw the tears forming in your eyes, and his stern expression wavered for a second.
"No, I don't think you're stupid." He finally said, his voice slightly lower.
He paused for a moment before speaking again.
"But I can't deny that I'm...disappointed. I had hoped for more progress."
Your lower lip trembled slightly as you heard his words.
Disappointed. Of course, he was. Because you were the worst in the class, the one who couldn't understand anything no matter how hard you tried.
The one who would never be able to answer a question correctly.
"âŠI knowâŠ" you whispered.
You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they started rolling down your cheeks.
"But i'm trying my best. I swear I am," you said, your voice shaking.
Ratio didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at you, almost as if he was contemplating your words, your expression and your tears.
He watched as you cried softly, the tears running silently down your face.
He seemed to think for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice softer than before.
"I know you're trying," he admitted, and his tone wasn't as harsh as usual.
He let out a small sigh.
"But 'trying' isn't enough. You're always lagging behind. You never catch up. You need to do something different."
Your heart felt heavy, and your shoulders slumped slightly.
He was right, your 'trying' wasn't enough. It never was.
You heard him sigh, before you didn't realize it, his hands were on your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs on these to clean the tears.
"I want you to succeed,"
His touch was gentle, his thumb wiping away your tears softly.
You looked up at him, his expression was serious but not cold as usual.
"But you have to work harder for that." He spoke, his hands still on your wet cheeks. "You're smart, but clearly something is missing."
As his hands continued on your cheeks, you froze, feeling the unexpected touch.
He was wiping your tears, a gesture of⊠comfort?
At this point, you already believed his words.
'You're not giving everything about yourself'
'Study more'
'Try harder'
Everything that came out of your mind and mouth was wrong for him.
You sat on the small bench on the rooftop of medical school. That place had been your peacetime.
You found yourself again, frustrated, as you had the book open on your lap, with tears about to escape your eyelids.
That until someone else's footsteps resounded on the ground.
Which made you immediately turn your head.
"I knew I'd find you here," the familiar voice said. You turned to see Ratio, walking over to the bench and sitting next to you.
"The same place, for the third time this week," he added, his expression a mixture of concern and something else.
You wiped the tears from your eyes quickly, not wanting him to see you like this. But it was too late, he had already noticed.
He glanced at the open book on your lap, a small frown on his face.
"Still struggling?" He asked, his voice soft yet firm.
You just nodded.
You saw him sigh, before he took out a kind of sweet bread packaged.
"Here, eat this," he said, as he gave you what he had in his hand.
He knew you liked those sweet breads.
With resignation, you took the bread, and you took off the wrapper, starting to eat it, while you felt like you were going to cry again.
Ratio watched you eat silently, his eyes fixed on you.
He saw the tears still gleaming in your eyes, but you were trying to hold them back.
He let out a sigh, his expression seemed to be contemplating something.
Without saying anything, he moved closer to you, getting nearer.
He was so close, you could count the number of eyelashes he had.
He leaned towards you, and his hand raised to touch your cheek and so he did, stroking your face for a moment, before he laid a kiss on your temple.
The unexpected kiss on your forehead made your body tense up for a moment, surprise filling you.
The action was uncharacteristic as he was acting in a way he never did in the past.
You slowly turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression held a hint of affection.
He was still so close to you. So close that he could easily touch you again.
The simple contact of his, made the accumulated tears of before, fall down your cheeks.
You stuck your body to him, even chewing sweet bread. You had a frown, like you used to have now.
As you put your phone next to you, after dialing your boyfriend's number.
You keep looking at the practice sheet, gently banging the pen against the table.
It took him a few seconds for him to answer your call.
"What's wrong?" Ratio asked once he answered the phone.
You took a deep breath before speaking, trying to sound a little calm, but failing miserably.
"I'm stuck again," you confessed, frustration evident in your voice.
"You'll need to do this by yourself, this time." He said, and his voice was firm.
You felt another stab in the chest.
"But I-"
"No buts. You need to learn how to figure things out on your own. You can't always depend on me."
Another stab. Like a dagger.
Yes, the same thing happened again.
You were somewhat desperate, as your last exams went wrong and you only approved a few with the minimum note. And basically you needed 140 percent of 100 percent to pass.
The only thing that could save you would be the practical part, but you didn't even manage to master that.
You knew he was right, but that didn't make you feel any better.
You looked up at him with a sad expression, but all he did was look at you with his usual frown.
"You're not a kid anymore. You need to start taking responsibility for your own learning," he said.
You knew he was right, you knew you couldn't always rely on him. But it was hard to accept.
Especially when he was always so dedicated and patient with others.
"Being your boyfriend doesn't mean you have more priority or advantages,"
You felt your throat tighten, you had a lump in your throat.
But he continued speaking.
"I'm your teacher, first of all. And I should be as impartial as possible."
You knew that, you truly knew that.
How you wished that he would treat you differently from others just because, you didn't want any privileges, or anything like that.
You just wanted his attention, his help, his care. But all you got were cold remarks, like a teacher talking to a stupid student.
Oh, but you would remember her words whenever you were tempted to ask her for help.
And again, you believed his words.
He was right, it wouldn't be fair for others to teach you the most.
So, you had to put everything in about yourself, no, more than you could give, so you could study for your exams.
Especially because they weren't just any exam, they were almost a preview of the endings, and if you didn't pass all of them, you wouldn't have any hope of being able to pass the courses.
Because you need more note than you can normally get, that is, something impossible.
In total there were 6 courses, that of Ratio and that of other teachers. That in their classes you didn't do so badly, but you weren't the best either. you approved with scores between minimums to media.
You looked down, your fingers tightening on the edge of the desk.
"I know," you mumbled, feeling a lump in your throat.
He was silent for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice a little softer this time.
"I'm tough on you because I know you can do it," he said.
Your eyesight focused on the chemistry test, it was the first exam of the week, so you were, or at least you felt, that you were ready.
When you left the exam, begging you to do well, you had to eat a granola bar, while you were walking down the hallways, looking for your other classroom.
You couldn't see Ratio before you took the first exam, because you were going to be a little late.
Once you sat at the desk, with the pharmacology test in your hands, you started putting on paper the things you remembered, so you didn't forget.
It was two long hours, which you managed to finish and leave the classroom, completely tired.
But when you get home, you couldn't sleep, because you had to prepare for your other exams.
As you sat in front of your desk, it was already almost 10 pm.
And you were still studying.
Your eyes tired because of the many books you had looked through, and your arms aching slightly because of writing so much.
You were tired, but you couldn't afford to take a rest. You had to study for the other exams. You let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes.
How long had you been studying now? An hour or two? You weren't even sure.
In the last few hours, you were studying for your other exams, including Public Health, Medicine 3, Clinical psychiatry, Laboratory diagnosis and the course in which Ratio will be present, Surgery 1.
Of some of those exams, most of them were written, the two of practice would be the same day.
You didn't dare send a single message to Ratio.
Or well, it's not that you didn't want to, you were too tired at this point.
You barely got out of the exam where you had to be in the lab, your eyelids every time threatened to close.
Now you had the exam.
You were scared, you even sweated from your nerves.
When you arrived at the respective practice chirophan, where all your colleagues would be taking the exam, your eyesight discouraged you.
They all looked somewhat tense, as they walked back and forth, muttering to themselves, what you assumed was what they learned in class.
You waited outside, along with them, before Ratio made them pass them all, to start the exam.
This consisted even the right only disinfected was also qualified, which made you tense. Although the cold water when washing your hands and arms helped you wake up a little.
Your breathing intensified.
Ratio stood in the middle of the room, and you tried to focus your vision properly.
He looked in your direction, for a second, his eyes on you.
Maybe he'd noticed how tired you were, but he remained silent. He just looked at you for a second, before looking back at everyone else.
And he began to speak.
"You all know how this works," he began, his voice firm and authoritative. "Each of you will take turns performing on a dummy patient."
You let out a shuddering sigh, trying to calm your nerves.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, as you watched your classmates take turns performing the practical exams.
Every time someone finished, Ratio inspected their work and gave them feedback.
You could see the serious expression on his face, his eyes never leaving the students as they performed.
Finally, it was your turn. You approached the dummy patient, your hands slightly trembling.
Ratio stood a few feet away, watching you.
When you started the exam, you tried to be as perfect as possible.
You tried to calm down, which was a bit difficult. Your hands was shaking.
'Try to breathe slowly, it will help you.'
That was what Ratio told you, and he was always right.
You tried to repeat in your head the steps you had to take to complete the exam.
You took a few deep breaths, in and out.
And finally, you began.
You feel much more pressure when you felt your classmates behind, that you were taking turns with when you performed a simple little surgery.
You started with shaky hands, to make cuts in the internal tissues of the skin, little by little. Being totally attentive to the sound of the cardiac monitor, listening to the pulsations and occasionally seeing the pressure level in the 'patient'.
You could even feel the sweat on the palms of your hands inside the latex gloves. It's good that you always had to put on 2 or 3 for these practices, because otherwise, you would have contaminated everything with your sweat.
You continued the process, trying to block out the thoughts that were flying through your mind.
'You need a good score.'
'You can't fail.'
'This is your last exam.'
'If you do this well, you can finally talk to him without worrying.'
Trying to ignore the pressure, you continued to take each step carefully.
The instructions for your colleagues you should take turns with were clear, anyone who distracts or talks to the person who is performing the practice with the 'patient' will immediately cancel the exam.
And that's why, because of the more impotence or frustration of your peers when they see your patient's heart level when they enter a state of shock because they had touched a vital organ, it was something that went unnoticed by you. Because you had fallen asleep.
What suddenly woke you up was the same alert from the monitors, who let out a loud noise.
Shit.
By the time you saw the monitor, the pressure was in the skies, not to mention that now the pulsations were going down drastically.
Without realizing it, as you had been sleeping in your place, you pricked the 'patient' stomach with the scalpel.
Fuck.
Your eyes widened in shock.
You were still a bit dizzy from sleep, and your reflexes were very slow.
And from behind, you could hear more murmurs, some of your classmates, while others let out a hiss or a swear word. And you could feel the pressure in your chest at what had just happened.
You tried to make a suture, but by that time it was too late.
You had damaged a vital organ, which you shouldn't even do.
In fear, you turned to the monitor, that now the rhythm was a single beep, indicating that the 'patient' had died.
You stayed there, feeling pressured by the looks of your classmates behind you, now they had not been able to take their exam.
And the gaze of Ratio, who was standing in front of you, which only made things worse.
He stood in the same position, his eyes staring at you. And you could only think of what he must have been thinking at that moment.
You tried to remain calm, but you knew that was impossible, your breathing was shaky, and you even felt your legs trembling.
You couldn't stand the stares, you could feel the gazes of your colleagues on your back. Judging and analyzing everything you had done.
"You failed this exam roundly." was the only thing he said, before guiding your peers to another side in the chirophan so they can take their exam, with a heart rate 'patient'.
You felt a pang of panic, your hands still trembling from the previous episode.
'You failed this exam roundly.' those words still echoed in your mind.
You knew it was the truth, there was no way you could deny it. You messed up big time.
'Everyone is going to hate me now. They're all going to think I'm stupid. I'm not fit to be a doctor. I'm not fit to be anything.'
These were the thoughts that raced through your mind.
You had been unveiling yourself so that you could study well for your other exams, that this was the only thing you didn't have in mind that could happen.
Your eyes looked to the floor, you were ashamed, you were embarrassed by your own performance. You had failed at something so simple.
Something you'd studied for hours. You even feel somewhat prepared to be able to do it.
Ratio stayed where he was, watching as your classmates took their turn with 'the patient'.
But he couldn't quite take his eyes off you, he could see you were shaking, and he was sure you would start crying at any moment. But you wouldn't do that in this place, not with the presence of everyone else.
He was heading for a moment where you were.
Without paying much attention to the others, he approached you, his footsteps almost silent, and stopped right in front of you.
He looked down at you, his gaze serious.
He knew exactly what your thoughts were at the moment, he knew that all the blame you would assume would be on yourself.
After all, it was all due to your negligence, you had fallen asleep, and that had been the reason why your practice turned out to be, to say the least, a disaster.
'You tried'
'You can do better another time'
'Don't worry'
You expected that, you really expected it.
"You need to retire from the chirophan, you've finished your exam." That's what you heard from him.
Your heart squeezed.
You really thought he was going to at least say a few words of encouragement, not just that.
And the tone in which he said it just made it worse. It was clear that he was disappointed.
You could feel the lump in your throat growing, you felt that you were going to burst into tears at any moment.
Ratio was about to speak, but instead, he held his tongue.
He knew the effect his words had had on you. He knew you weren't well. But he didn't say anything, he just stood there, seeing you.
His gaze was on you, you could feel that he was analyzing you, from your eyes to your hands.
You looked like a kicked puppy.
Your shoulders were hunched, your head was down, and your hands were shaking at your sides.
With what little dignity you had left, you looked up at Ratio.
Your heart was beating so hard you thought it would burst out of your chest.
Your eyes were glassy, your eyelashes wet with tears.
You moved from your place, going to the disinfection area, while you were removing your gloves, mask and other protection stuff.
Your hands never stopped shaking while you did that.
You came out of the chirophan of practices, with fear running through your body.
Your hands on your face as you tried to hide the fact that you were about to start crying.
You were walking so fast that you bumped into a few people, some who told you to slow down, but you ignored them.
Finally, you reached the bathroom, where you locked yourself in one of the cubicles, and let the tears fall down your face.
You felt pathetic. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could do it, and even more so, for falling asleep.
How could you possibly have screwed up so big? You had studied for hours, for days, for weeks.
You worked as hard as you could to try to get a passing grade.
You had given your all, only for it to end in a complete failure.
"You're not good for this." you told yourself, your voice choked with tears.
âŠ
You waited for your boyfriend to leave his office, grabbing the strip of your bag with both your hands.
Your gaze was on the floor, seeing your shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Your red eyes, you didn't want people to see much.
The students walked around you, chatting and laughing, unaware of the turmoil you were going through. You just wanted to go back to your apartment and cry in peace.
But at least you wanted some comfort on Ratio's side, even though you knew you didn't deserve it.
You heard the sound of a door behind you opening, and you glanced up to see Ratio walking out of his office.
He didn't notice you at first, but then he turned and his gaze fell on you.
You heard him sigh heavily, before he spoke "Let's go." It wasn't a question, it was a direct order.
You didn't dare say anything, just nodded silently and walked with him.
The whole way to the exit was silent, you walked behind him, seeing his back.
The silence was heavy, you didn't dare to say anything, and he didn't say anything either.
When you arrived at his apartment he let you pass first.
As you saw him leave his things in place and turn on some lights, your mind was distracted.
Until as he started heating water in the boiler, he spoke.
"It was the worst exam I could see in my life," his voice was full of disappointment.
Your heart pounded in your chest, those words only made you feel worse.
You wanted to say something, some kind of excuse, some reason to justify what you had done.
But all that came out of your mouth was a half-broken murmur "I'm sorry"
Ratio stared at you for a moment, his gaze was cold, you felt like crying again.
"You're sorry?" He asked, almost bitterly.
"You'll tell that to your patients' relatives when you kill them by mistake?"
Your eyes widened, and you could feel your lip starting to tremble.
That was a low blow.
"I-" you tried to speak, but your voice was so shaky and broken that you could barely form words.
But he interrupted you.
"You weren't focused. You were not prepared. You were sloppy and careless" He said, without even looking at you.
His words were like a stab in the heart.
And he wasn't done yet.
"You didn't put any effort into it,"
"Yes I did," you muttered, grabbing your fingers, anxiously in your body.
Ratio turned to you, his gaze was stern and almost irritated. He had never looked at you like that before.
"You fell asleep in the middle of the practice," he said, and the disappointment in his voice was palpable.
"How the hell would you call that putting in effort?"
Your mind was racing, trying to find an answer, something to say. But the words didn't come out, the lump in your throat was too big.
"I did" you tried to say again, weakly.
"No, you didn't" he said bluntly.
"If you had, you wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake"
You couldn't help it again, the salty tears wet your cheeks.
"Yes I did, Veritas," you said, raising your voice a little while you were looking at him.
"You didn't make the slightest effort in that practice, otherwise, you wouldn't have failed so miserably"
Those words stung again, you felt that he was attacking you.
"Yes I did!" You shouted, tears streaming down your face.
"I worked my ass out for that exam. I didn't take anything for granted! I really wanted to pass!"
"I want your comfort," you sobbed.
You wanted him to tell you that you had tried, that you did put everything out of you, that it was just unfortunate situations, that you could try again later.
You wanted that, not this.
Ratio's expression softened a little at your words, and for a moment he almost looked guilty.
He was quiet a few seconds, looking at your tear-soaked face.
"Do you think hard work is enough?" He asked. "Do you think that by just studying you will pass everything?"
"That if you want something, you'll get it just by wanting it?"
You just looked at him.
"That's not how it works," he said firmly.
"You have to be more than that".
You wanted his comfort, you longed for it a lot at times like this, not to be ranted out at how bad you did it.
"You don't deserve to be consoled if you did something out of pure negligence,"
Your heart sank at his words, like he was speaking to a child.
You felt like a scolded dog.
More tears fell on your face.
"I didn't mean to make that mistake," you said, wiping your face with your sleeve. "I really tried"
Ratio approached you, his steps slow and deliberate.
"Trying is not enough" he said bluntly.
He was in front of you now, towering over you, you didn't dare to look at him in the eyes.
"In this profession, just trying is not enough"
"You're not made to be a doctor if you think that," Your breathing hitched.
Those words hurt, you wanted to shout at him, tell him he's not right, that he's wrong.
But you knew he wasn't.
Every word he was saying was true.
All this effort, all these hours you've worked, and all these sleepless nights, to fail like that, because of a stupid simple mistake.
You really were not fit to be a doctor.
Your head was lowered, and the tears still ran down.
You tried to hold them back, but failed.
"I'm tired, Veritas,"
You just wanted him to stop.
You were tired, tired of studying, tired of not getting it right.
Ratio seemed to not soften at your words, his face still showed disappointment.
"You have to try harder, you have to put aside your tiredness," he said firmly. "If you don't, you will fail again"
"If you really want this, you have to do better"
You just wanted it all to stop.
"It's not fair," you began, your voice choked by the crying that didn't stop.
"The only thing you know how to do is tell me bad things about what I do," you sobbed.
"You're supposed to be my boyfriend, not someone who criticizes me,"
You felt frustrated, the words escaping your mouth without a care.
You wanted him to comfort you, to tell you that everything was going to be okay and that you would be a perfect doctor.
But he didn't say anything. He just looked at you, his expression unchanged.
"My job isn't to soothe your ego," he said firmly.
"My job, as a boyfriend, is to help you see the faults in yourself and strive to improve"
"And it seems that you don't like that very much," he added. His voice was almost cold.
You raised your head, looking at him with wet eyes.
"You're supposed to support me" you said weakly, almost a plea.
Ratio's face didn't change, his eyes fixed on you.
"I do support you," he said.
"But I won't lie to you or sugarcoat things for you," he added.
"I don't even have ego or something that you have to soften."
Those words were like a stab to the heart.
"I'm sick of you telling me that everything I do is complete shit,"
You were shaking with frustration, tears and snot streamed down your face. You felt so angry and so desperate that you didn't know what to say.
"I'm just trying to be honest with you and make you face reality," Ratio said.
"You need to be able to handle criticism if you want to be a doctor"
You just wanted him to stop, to shut up and say something like 'you're good' or 'don't cry it's okay'.
But he didn't, he just stood there, telling you the things you didn't want to hear.
You felt like you couldn't hold back anymore, all these days, weeks, months of not saying anything was starting to weigh on you.
"You never say anything good about me," you said in a shaky voice.
"You never have a nice word for what I do"
Ratio raised an eyebrow at your words, unamused by your outburst.
"You don't deserve my compliments"
That stung.
"Especially when you fail so miserably," he added.
Your body shuddered, those words made you feel so bad.
"All other boyfriends say nice things to their partners" you murmured.
"They give their support, even when they make a mistake"
Ratio almost laughed at your words.
"Oh, so you want me to be one of those 'other boyfriends' now?" he said with a hint of irony.
"You want me to pat you on the back and say you did a good job, even when you did a bad one?"
"Do you really think that's going to help?"
His tone was almost mocking, and it made you even more upset.
You wanted to shout at him, tell him that you just wanted him to say something nice and comfort you. But the words wouldn't come out.
"IâŠ"
You tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a choked noise.
Ratio sighed heavily, the annoyance clear in his expression.
"I can't believe you're acting like a child because you can't handle a bit of criticism"
"Do you really think that's how a doctor should behave?"
"The answers I say are the same as those of my classmates and you still tell me they're wrong," you said.
"It's not fair. I'm fed up,"
Ratio crossed his arms, looking down at you.
"Life isn't fair," he said, as if explaining something obvious to a child.
"And a doctor's job is not to care about being fair"
He looked you up and down, almost with contempt in his eyes.
"I had expected more from you," he said.
"But I suppose I expected too much"
Those words hit you like a blow to the stomach.
You knew he was right, but it didn't make the situation any less painful.
Your hands were clenched into tight fists, your fingers digging into your palms.
"I hate you," you spat out between sobs, your voice full of anger and hurt.
Ratio seemed unperturbed by your words to begin with.
He looked at you with an expressionless face for a moment, before speaking.
"You don't mean that"
You were angry, hurt, and sad, all at the same time.
"I do," you said, your eyes wet with tears.
"I hate you, and I wish you didn't exist"
The words came out of your mouth, more like a desperate plea.
Ratio didn't react at first, he just stood there, looking at you as you sobbed.
"You don't mean it," he repeated, his voice low and firm.
"And you know it"
"Yes I do," you insisted, your voice almost a hiss.
"I hate that you always criticize me," you said, letting out a sob. "I hate that you never say anything nice,"
You saw a slight change in his face through your tearful sight.
Before it becomes the same again.
"If you hate me and you can't stand the criticism I give you," his voice sounded annoying, almost words spit on his face.
"Why don't you retire from medical school?"
"You don't even have the talent to be a doctor anyway,"
You felt your heart drop at those words.
Talent⊠That was the thing that you always lacked.
Ratio was always the perfect doctor, from the beginning of his studies, he was the top of the top.
You, on the other hand, struggled.
You weren't naturally smart like your classmates or he was. You needed to study more, work harder, make more effort.
And even with all that, you didn't come close to being like he wanted.
You had sacrificed so many things just to get here, your dreams, your hobbies, and even your old friends.
What nice words from your boyfriend.
Both you and he remained silent, with only the sound of the boiling woman whistling.
Your tears fell like waterfalls, but this time you weren't sobbing, you just stared at him.
There was a tense silence between the two of you.
You didn't know what I was thinking, you didn't want to know either.
But you might notice that his facial expression was no longer the firm one before.
He seemed even surprised by his words.
He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to speak.
But the words not came out.
Ratio was looking at your devastated face, the trail of tears already staining your clothes and cheeks.
Your red eyes stared at him, without blinking. Your expression seemed so different from a few seconds ago.
He had probably crossed the line.
Ratio stood there, looking at your tear-soaked face. He had never seen you so upset, so⊠desperate.
'Why don't you retire from medical school?'
His words will be repeated as a disc striped on your head.
The seconds passed slowly, the silence was only broken by the sound of boiling water.
Ratio moved slightly, taking a step forward, but stopped when his eyes met your gaze.
That look was almost one of⊠betrayal.
Something inside him stirred with frustration but guilt at the same time.
You forced yourself to take a breath, because you felt like you were going to drown.
You grabbed your bag with your trembling hands.
As you moved to grab your stuff, your eyesight never focused even on his shoes.
"Y/NâŠ" Ratio tried to speak, his voice was hesitant.
He watched as you packed your things, your movements were jerky and with haste, with the only goal of leaving quickly.
You didn't look at him, avoiding his eyes completely.
"Where are you going?" His voice sounded more pleading, and with a hint of concern.
You felt your body tense, the sound of his voice made you shiver. You had forgotten how long it had been since you heard your boyfriend speak to you without being sharp or harsh.
"I'm leaving," you replied, your voice flat and emotionless.
"Do you care?"
"Of course I care" his voice was firmer than before, and maybe a little annoyed?
Ratio walked closer to you, his steps slow.
"I-, we need to talk"
That phrase came out of his mouth, almost in a pleading tone.
You continued to pack your things, not daring to look at him.
"We can talk tomorrow," you said. "I remembered I have something to do at home,"
Ratio's lips formed a straight line.
He just kept quiet.
You too, until you approached the door.
You felt the weight of his eyes on your back, almost burning.
You had your hand on the doorknob.
It was hard. More than you should.
"Tomorrow, then," he said, quietly.
The way Ratio spoke sounded almost vulnerable.
Your hand trembled on the doorknob.
You wanted to look back, to say something, to see his face.
But you didn't, because you know that seeing him would be even more painful.
"Sure," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.
The day after your⊠discussion with Ratio.
You were walking through the corridors of the medical school.
You felt a slight anxiety, but also a sense of resignation for what was going to happen.
You hadn't heard from Ratio since yesterday, and you weren't sure if it was on purpose or not.
As you turned a corner, you saw a familiar figure standing in your path.
You froze for a moment when you saw him.
He was dressed as usual and that perfect hairstyle.
But at least he didn't look so perfect, like he hadn't slept the night before.
His eyes were fixed on you, almost as if he were inspecting you.
Ratio his face neutral as always, but with a hint of⊠remorse?
"We need to talk," he repeated the phrase from yesterday, his voice low and firm.
Right.
"Oh, right," you let go, feeling your body tighten.
But before he could add anything else, you talked.
"Maybe later?, right now I have a class,"
Ratio had expected you to have a defiant or annoyed air about you.
But your voice, and expression, were calm, almost soft.
"Fine," he said after a few seconds. "Then after class,"
"After class," you confirmed.
Ratio continued to watch you.
The sound of the bell ringing through the hall interrupted the brief moment between the two of you.
not looking directly into his eyes. Then, before he could say anything again, you continued on your way to your classroom.
Ratio watched your figure walk away, his brows slightly furrowed.
Every ticking sound seemed almost as if it was mocking you.
The anticipation making your stomach spin.
In fact, you hadn't gone to a 'class'.
You went to talk to the rector of the medical school.
You felt a lump in your throat, and your hands were slightly sweaty.
You had an idea of what you wanted to talk about.
But you weren't so sure.
Your footsteps echoed through the hallway, your heart beating fast in your chest.
Until you arrived at the office door. You knocked gently and the voice of the rector called you in.
The moment of the meeting was brief, you explained the situation and what you decided. The man listened intently to your words, a slight sense of sympathy in his eyes.
When you finished, he nodded slowly, his fingers tapping on his desk. "Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Yes," you responded, your voice firm but inside you were the nerves.
You didn't know if you had taken the right decision, but it was done.
"I don't want to question your decision, but-"
"I'm sure" you interrupted him abruptly.
It sounded a little⊠harsh, but you didn't want to hear any more arguments.
The rector gave a small resigned nod.
"Okay," he said slowly.
"I will start the procedures,"
You walked to where you knew Ratio would be teaching.
You didn't know why you approached, if you were supposed to leave without telling him anything.
Ratio was in the middle of his class when you appeared at the door.
He didn't see you at first, since his back was facing the door.
But when class ended a few minutes later, and everyone left, he turned his face towards the door after leaving his notes on his desk.
And there you were.
Your figure standing in the doorway.
Ratio's facial expression didn't change.
"Is your class over?," his voice was low, the room was empty, the last students had already left.
Which made the only sound a low ticking of the clock hanging on the wall.
Your feet didn't move toward him.
You were still standing by the door, your gaze fixed on the ground.
"Yes," your voice came out somewhat strangled.
For a few seconds Ratio was silent, as if contemplating you.
He started to walk towards you, his footsteps echoing in the room.
The air between the two of you felt almost⊠thick.
Ratio eventually stood in front of you, his height forcing you to lift your head to look at him.
"Can we talk outside of here?" You asked, something undesirable about your actions.
Ratio was quiet for a moment, staring down at you.
He looked almost⊠unreadable.
Finally he agreed with a low "sure".
You left the room and both you started walking together.
Neither of you spoke.
Silence.
Just the sound of the two of you walking through the corridors of the school.
Ratio continued to keep pace with you, but he was looking straight ahead, not looking directly at you.
The sound of your footsteps echoed in the empty halls.
As the two of you walked, you felt a feeling of nervousness rise in your stomach.
You inhaled before you asked again. "Can I take your hand?"
As you broke the silence, Ratio slightly turned his head towards you.
He gave a light nod of affirmation.
You reached for his hand, and he allowed you to hold it.
His palm was warm, and the touch of his fingers was gentle, almost firm.
You felt less nervous, just for a while.
You walked with him until you got to a quiet cafeteria, where you saw people studying at tables.
You sat in front of him, making your hand release his.
As you sat down in the cafeteria, Ratio took a seat in front of you.
Both of you stayed silent for a few more seconds.
Neither of you had said anything since you came to this place.
You could feel a tension in the air, the silence slowly becoming unbearable.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.
"I assume you didn't go to class," his statement sounded like a mere fact.
"Uhm, we can talk about that at another time," you said, playing with your hands a little bit.
You missed the touch of his hand against yours, and you were going to miss that, that's for sure.
"I don't hate you, Veritas," you said, remembering your words yesterday, that you ranted when he was being unpleasant and rude on you.
Ratio's brow furrowed slightly.
He didn't say anything for a moment, he seemed to be thinking about something.
His gaze was focused on you, his eyes studying your expression almost intently, as if he was examining you.
"I know," he said eventually, his voice low and quiet.
Then he spoke again.
"I have to apologize," his words sounded almost reluctant, as if he didn't like saying them.
You could see the muscles of his jaw clenched, he seemed to be struggling with his thoughts and words.
It was clear that he wasn't used to apologizing.
He continued, the words coming out a little hesitant.
"I shouldn't have said those things,"
He paused again, his gaze averting yours for a moment.
Then he spoke again, and his eyes fixed on yours again.
"I was too harsh,"
Ratio's voice was quiet, almost like a whisper.
He was still struggling with those words, you were so used to him insulting you so easily but apparently it was different when he apologized.
Significantly that produced peace of mind in you.
You couldn't help but smile a little, feeling the knot in your throat.
"That's okay," you said.
Ratio's eyebrow shot up, clearly not expecting such a response.
You knew him enough that he probably would have been prepared to receive a scolding or an argument in response.
He was still looking at you, you could see the slight surprise in his eyes.
"That's⊠it?"
Ratio seemed almost dumbfounded.
"Yes, that's what I needed to hear," you said.
Anyway, you had already started with the procedures with the rector.
Maybe you just wanted to hear his words of apology, but as a good memory.
Ratio's expression changed, it was almost a mixture of relief and confusion. It was almost as if he had expected more resistance from you.
He remained quiet for a few more seconds, continuing to watch you intently.
That you were so forgiving after how he had acted made him feel⊠strange.
But maybe he shouldn't think too much.
Ratio exhaled slowly, his facial expression returning to its usual stoic and composed state.
"You're too soft, dear," he murmured, his voice low and quiet.
The next day it was the same.
He felt calm, because at least you weren't upset and at least you clarified that you didn't hate him.
It had spent almost 40 minutes of class and you were not there yet, it was strange to him.
Until when you looked for you on campus, where you were supposed to have other classes, you hadn't attended them. Rather, you weren't even on campus.
And, no matter how much he send you a message, it came out that he couldn't contact your number.
Almost recently, he had to come and talk to the rector, about you not coming and you could fail all your other courses. Until he took it upon himself to tell him that you had withdrew from campus three months ago.
Ratio's eyes widened, his facial expression transforming into a look of disbelief. "What?," his voice was low, but with a hint of alarm.
His mind was processing this new information, and it was hard for him to believe.
"They⊠withdrew three months ago?" His words came out slowly, his heart was starting to race.
Yes, you had taken the decision to withdraw from the medical school.
As much as it looked like a tantrum, you didn't care, maybe he was right.
So you followed his advice.
©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify or feed into ai
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr x you#hsr fanfic#honkai star rail fanfic#hsr angst#angst no comfort#angst#dr ratio#dr ratio x reader#dr. ratio x reader#hsr dr ratio#hsr veritas ratio#hsr veritas#veritas ratio x reader#veritas ratio#veritas x reader#dr ratio angst#ratio#hsr ratio
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heyyy <3 I was wondering if you could write something a little softer for rafe?? itâs that kind of dayđ
of course, honey! I hope this makes your day better <3 thank you for requesting
cw: implied fem!reader, soft!rafe, mentions of alcohol, tooth rotting fluff, 1k
<3
You smooth down your dress, applying more pressure to the stubborn ends that keep folding up. For an expensive dress, it was pretty cheap. Or maybe you didnât iron it correctly. Either way, you arenât going to let it ruin your night. Your hands shift to the straps, carefully adjusting them to ensure they sit right. And as you look at yourself in the mirror your shoulders soften and warmth fills your chest. Your hair sitting just rightâyet still, so imperfectly you. Emerald green dress flowing elegantly, its silky fabric comfortably gliding over your skin, embracing your figure.
Rafe waits for you, already mingling among guests. He knows you like to take your time. More time than you need, but itâs your process and you love itâthen so does he.Â
Another moment passes before you slip out the door, and Rafe spots you immediately. Like heâd ever miss you. Not when youâre always exuding the kind of loveliness that lures him in. He finds it endearing, your eyes sifting through the crowd to find his. Itâs like youâre nervous, though, youâre anything but. Still, you find your way back to him, even if itâs a glance through the crowd. Even if itâs a slight tug of a lipâa hint of a smile. Even if itâs for a moment. Before someone takes your arm, drawing you into a circle of people.Â
Youâre stunning. Rafe knows if he were to ever drop dead, now would be that moment. The drink heâd been nursing is long forgotten and his eyes donât leave you.Â
âHeâs not even pretending to be subtle,â Sarah whispers, slightly leaning across the table. A smile playing at her lips. You donât need to turn to know who sheâs referring to.Â
âAnd?â you ask, hiding your smile with a sip of your drink. Sarah tilts her head, raising her eyebrows, silently asking, âseriously?â You shrug causing her to laugh. Though, you canât help but turn over your shoulder meeting your boyfriendâs gaze once more. A hand clasps his shoulder in greeting, and Rafe only offers a tight-lipped smile in response. You slump onto the table, forehead touching the cool glass as you let you a huff. Youâre working with Rafe on his social skills. It isnât going too well.Â
Sarah, having followed your gaze, only laughs, âHe looks like heâs going to die if you donât go over there.âÂ
You lift your head from the table, and Sarah gives a subtle nod toward Rafe, silently urging you to go talk to him. Heâs standing there, among guestsâfriends, looking like he could use some companyâand maybe some encouragement too.
You straighten and smooth out your dress. A quick press to the fold at the hem, and after offering a quick goodbye to Sarah, you turn on your heel.
Rafe isnât standing very far, he never is.Â
âHi,â you smile, soft and sweet. His chest hurts. He needs to sit down, he thinks, before he makes a fool of himself.Â
âHey,â he responds, his voice low and rough. He smiles back, but heâs holding his breath. Rafe knows youâve noticed when your smile widensâhe wonders how your cheeks donât hurt. Maybe they do. Heâs never asked.
Without a word, you shuffle into his chest, arms wrapping around you instinctively. Arms around your waist, and palms pressed flat against your back. You tilt your head up leaving a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. Rafeâs heart pounds, overwhelmed with love. Every time your lips touch his skin, it burns into memory. So, if you ever slip away, heâll have one forever thing.Â
A hand leaves your waist, quick to brush your hairline, and rest on your jaw. You blink slowly, waiting for him to kiss you. Then, he does. Itâs sweet, unhurried, and now itâs your turn to be overwhelmed. You smile again, finding his lips mirroring yours. Itâs rare from Rafe. It makes you want to kiss him again, but you canât when youâre smiling this hard.Â
Though, it doesnât take long for Rafe to move back inâlips meeting yours. This time, leaving you dizzy.Â
âYouâre so beautiful.â he sounds breathless as he plants firm kisses along your jaw, âEvery time I see you, it just keeps getting better.âÂ
âYeah?â you ask, a playful lit in your voice, but thereâs a spark of sincerity in your eyes, as if youâre searching for him to prove it.Â
âFuck, yeah.â Rafe replies with a wide grin, before kissing your neck again. Heâs intoxicatingâplacing his lips everywhere from your jaw to your collarbone. Heâs forceful enough to almost knock you off balance, but he always anticipates the moment heâll need to steady you. It makes your heart soar.
âOkay.â you almost snort, hand touching his cheekâa silent signal to calm down.Â
He leaves a soft kiss on your pulse before one arm slips from your waistâgrabbing his drink, the other keeping a firm hold to keep you close to his side.Â
Itâs funny how much something so simpleâjust being near himâcould make you feel like the center of the universe. Maybe thatâs because you are to him. Youâve opened him up to so much love he never thought heâd be capable of. And your love is his favoriteânot grand gestures or dramatic momentsâitâs just this, the quiet comfort of being with him, and itâs enough.Â
The two of you stand in the crowd, occasionally speaking to the people who approach. With glasses of champagne in hand, you savor the closeness and warmth of the night.Â
âI didnât see you making any new friends earlier,â you tease, tilting your head up to look at him.Â
He doesnât say anything for a moment. Eyes taking you in, as if he hadnât gotten a good enough look earlier, âToo busy looking at you.âÂ
You laugh softly, âTrying to charm me?â
Rafe looks at you, insulted, âTrying?â he asks, straightening up, his posture shifting into something a little more smug, âBaby, I donât have to try.â
Your mouth falls open. You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head. âI canât wait for you to be humbled.â
The hand on your waist that was drawing small circles on the fabric of your dress stills. Your stomach flutters when he leans down, lips brushing on the shell of your ear.Â
âAnd I canât wait to take this off.â
You burst into laughter.
<3
masterlist . rafe cameron masterlist
thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! iâll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
alwaysmoncheri © â all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
#my works âââ
ËđŠ Ì !!#masterlist#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron scenarios#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader
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TWO OF HEARTS
SUMMARY: ashley graham x reader x leon kennedy // leon and ashley try to gain your love in spain through various acts.
WARNINGS: not proofread, mentions of ashleyâs kidnapping (not by reader or leon), jealousy, readerâs really unaware of how theyâve fallen head both like her, ashley and leon donât really like each other
AUTHORS NOTE: sorry iâve been so inactive! iâve been drowning in homework lately, but i had no homework today so i decided to write! iâll try to be more active in the future, but anyway, hereâs my first leon/ashley writing! send asks if you want some more content about either one of them :3 this is 0.6k words, but not really a full on oneshot?? just ideas
when you and leon get sent by the president to rescue his daughter from a village in spain, your friend decides itâs the perfect time to get closer to you. although the mission is supposed to be all serious, considering youâre dealing with the presidentâs daughter, he canât help but notice youâre oblivious to his advances and compliments.
unfortunately, as he attempts to get to know you better, you keep the objective in your head: find and save ashley. of course, itâs always good to stay focused on the task, but he wishes youâd have more fun at the time.
another thing that would be a pain in his ass at times was ashley. for some reason, sheâs taken a liking to you as well and trails behind you like a lost puppy. sheâs always complimenting you, whether itâs about your skills or your outfit, or how you can lift something heavier than two times her weight.
all those words from her make leonâs blood boil. he has a job to do, but she isnât making it any easier.
however, he canât blame her for finding herself attracted to you. youâre everything anyone could ever want, the most perfect thing, sculptured by god himself.
leon tries to gain your attention by laying his hand on your waist or hip, occasionally rubbing the space with his thumb. of course, he likes to protect you because it makes him feel masculine, and he can be depended on. sometimes he tells little jokes just to see your eyes squint, especially in a high-stress situation. he places his jacket over your shoulder when he sees a single hair on your arm perk up, or goosebumps form on your arms or legs. he always feels a surge of pride flow through him once he sees his dark brown coat on your body.
ashley, however, isnât too fond of leonâs actions. sheâs thankful heâs taking part in saving her, but prefers to be a few steps behind you instead. sheâs always chatting your ear off and smiling at you sweetly, using her manners whenever you do something kind for her (leon tells her that youâre just doing your job, and she always rolls her eyes when he makes that comment). she always blushes and giggles when you gently place a hand on her back, guiding her where she needs to be, like a schoolgirl talking to her crush on the phone. being kidnapped by a cult was traumatizing, but she hated the thought of returning to her father and never seeing you again, supposing youâd be busy on other important missions. maybe sheâll ask her father to invite you over for dinner so she can properly thank you.
the unspoken rivalry between the blondes grows far too strong, one will grin as the other crosses their arms or scoffs when theyâre not feeling noticed by you. theyâll both be shoulder-to-shoulder with you, ashleyâs head tilting as she looks deep into your eyes, trying to flirt with you. meanwhile, leon will stay silent and tell you what the next task should be, all with a large arm around your waist.
youâll compliment ashley on her adorable skirt, asking her where she got it, and sheâll respond with a cheery smile on her face. within a second, sheâll send a smirk towards leon, and his expression hardens as he glares at her.
your obliviousness frustrates them both, even telling you they love you or want to be more than friends would only be a compliment towards you! youâd take it as they see you as an important person in their life, or they want to be best friends. the blonde finds humor in the otherâs frustrations, feeling closer to you once the other fails to tell you how theyâve fallen head over heels for you.
#yukioos#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy resident evil#leon kennedy re4#resident evil#resident evil 4#resident evil 4 remake#re4 remake#re4r leon#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x you
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â little hints f1 boys would give that they have a crush on you.
Ë â LANDO NORRIS
he is interested in all your passions and hobbies: even if it is something he knows little about, heâll ask you about your passions or things you like to do to have more to talk about with you and to get to know you even better. he also likes to research on the internet and send you videos that he finds about your favorite topics and, when you least expect it, he will start conversations about it, leaving you surprised but happy to know that he puts a lot of effort into connecting with your world.
Ë â GEORSE RUSSELL
he always includes you in his plans: whenever he travels, he talks as if youâre going too, without even inviting you directly. when you ask him about it, he usually says, âwell, youâre going with me, arenât you?â and when you canât go because of work, he gets really frustrated, but he makes sure to keep you updated. heâs also always saying âwe should check out that new place together⊠when are you free?â or âwouldnât it be fun if you go with me for the next race?â he loves planting the idea of ââfuture moments with you, and he loves it when they actually come true.
Ë â SEBASTIAN VETTEL
he loves teasing you: he always looks for a way to tease you, but always with a touch of flirting, which leaves you wondering if it's really just a joke or if he means something with it. he also hates it when someone else does this and he doesnât hide his anger, and itâs at this moment that you also don't miss the opportunity to tease him; and the look in his eyes tells you that in fact, he doesnât tease you just for fun.
Ë â CARLOS SAINZ
he always offers to help you with whatever you need: no matter what you need, he will do whatever it takes for you and to make your life easier. he will get you a coffee (and a sweet treat) in minutes when you say you want it. he will buy you something you said you needed but couldn't because you were too busy. he will come to your house to fix that broken drawer. he will always be there for you, even when you don't ask him directly, he will be there.
Ë â CHARLES LECLERC
he always remembers little details about you: sometimes he'll casually mention something small that you've said in the past, like your favorite snack or a specific memory. and sometimes you're delightfully surprised by how accurately he tells you these things because you could swear he'd forgotten or didn't really care, but he's always paying extra attention to you and everything you say is important to him.
Ë â LEWIS HAMILTON
he always compliments you a lot: but theyâre not generic compliments that you always hear, he focuses on unique characteristics of yours that he really admires, like âyou always have a way of making everything more fun and coolâ or âyou always seem to know the right things to sayâ, heâs always complimenting you, and he always means it.
Ë â OSCAR PIASTRI
he always looks for reasons to text you: he likes to send you news about your favorite singers, bands, authors or something he knows youâll like. itâs things like âyou popped into my head when i saw this, and i had to shareâ or âdoesnât this remind you of that joke you made?â and he always tries to keep the conversation going, no matter what.
Ë â LIAM LAWSON
he is always your biggest fan: whatever you do, he gives you all the support and help in the world. he is always the first one to show up when you need encouragement, whether itâs to wish you good luck at an event or send you a bouquet of flowers with a little note, or a brief message saying that he believes in you, and that he knows everything will turn out fine. he also loves talking about you to people like âdid you see what y/n did? sheâs amazing, right?â he is your biggest fan, and he doesnât hide it from anyone.
Ë â MAX VERSTAPPEN
he looks at you a lot: when you two make eye contact, you have to look at something else first because he canât get enough of you - and he loves it when you get embarrassed about it. he also loves to admire you when youâre distracted and donât realize heâs looking at you; he loves looking at you and learning your mannerisms. to him, youâre the most beautiful person heâs ever seen, and even though sometimes you catch him staring at you and ask him with a smile what heâs looking at, he doesnât stop or give you a serious answer, which creates a spark of curiosity in you.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#george russell x reader#george russell imagine#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel imagine#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#liam lawson x reader#liam lawson imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
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