#knowing that it's okay to rely on others and reaching out is hard just in general and it's def the case for him cus he usually relies on hi | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

runariya · 10 days ago

Note

For prompt game: ⚽️🐺🥸🤫

(By the way, i'm so happy it's open again, your stories are amazing 🥰)

Hear me out: an Alpha boxer Jungkook, whose son Koda is on kindergarden, being taught by our lovely omega reader.

But Jungkook is a workaholic, always trying to get his son and deceased mate proud, so reader is upset with him because he never attended any school meeting, by now his son sees her as a mother figure, and relies on her to take and get him home everyday.

One day, school ends early and reader gets to wait for her dearest student's father with him, Jungkook walks in, all bloodied from winning another fight, and finds not only his sweet boy being nurtured by a pretty omega, but also gets asked by Koda to make this nice lady his mother, maybe also get him a baby brother to play with ? And who is he to deny his son something ? Besides, the house is too big for just the two of them, and what's the use of making so much money if you don't have a loving omega and pups waiting by the door ?

(I think this is yandere because he straight up decided she is his mate now, but that's up to you. Also feel free to change or ignore this if you don't like it. Hugs and kisses ☺️)

(sport+ABO+"yandere"+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: Alpha boxer!Jungkook x Omega teacher!female reader genre: ABO, smut warnings: explicit sexual content, breast play, dom!JK, a bit of begging, teasing, size difference, unprotected sex, bonding, marking, knotting, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 3.079

a/n: soooo....i loved this ask sm! another one with full fic potential 😩 but i hope this suffices. i know it's uncommon, but jk's found a whole new bond with OC. I'm a romantic at heart, and she needs a mate k? lol so forget yandere, i made it work this way lol hope that's okay! also, sending hugs and kisses right back~ 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Miss ___, can I have a baby brother?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the clasp of Koda’s jacket as you kneel in front of him. His wide eyes are fixed on you, innocent and full of curiosity, like this is the most natural question in the world. You can’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, even though your heart gives a little lurch. Koda always manages to catch you off guard with these questions, his mind always a few steps ahead.

“A baby brother?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as you finish zipping up his jacket. “That’s a big request, don’t you think?”

Koda grins up at you, his tiny hand reaching out to tug at the sleeve of your coat. “But I really want one! I told Daddy, but he didn’t hear me. Maybe you can tell him?”

You try not to let your expression falter, but the mention of Koda’s father always stirs up complicated feelings inside you. Jeon Jungkook. The Alpha who is never around. The man you’ve never met, despite teaching his son for almost a year now. He’s a ghost in Koda’s life—and by extension, yours. You hear his name in passing, from teachers, other parents, even Koda himself, but you’ve yet to put a face to the name.

Jungkook’s reputation, though, precedes him. A professional boxer, always on the go, always training or fighting, always… absent. Too busy, too consumed with his career to attend any of the parent-teacher meetings, any of the school events. You’ve never seen him pick Koda up from school. Not once. It’s always a nanny or some assistant, but more often than not, it’s you who ends up driving Koda home when no one else shows up.

Like today.

You try not to let the frustration settle too deeply in your chest, but it’s hard. Koda is five, and he’s growing up without the attention he deserves. You know it’s not your place to judge, but you can’t help the resentment that builds up every time Koda looks up at you with those big, beautiful but hopeful eyes, asking for things his father should be giving him.

“Sweetheart,” you coo gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I can’t make that decision for your daddy.”

Koda’s face falls a little, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he shrugs, a small sigh escaping him, and his little hand reaches for yours. “Okay, Miss ___.”

Your heart aches for him. Koda is so sweet, so full of love despite the gaps in his life. You’ve grown attached to him in ways you probably shouldn’t as a teacher, but it’s hard not to. He’s become a bright spot in your day, and lately, you’ve begun to wonder if he sees you as more than just his teacher.

The way he holds your hand, the way he looks for you in a crowd—it’s not unlike how a child looks at a parent.

You’ve caught glimpses of it, little moments where Koda will reach for you when he’s tired, or how he asks if you’ll be the one to pick him up tomorrow, like you’re something steady in his life.

Today, though, you’re the one driving him home again. Jungkook didn’t show up, and his manager who was supposed to pick him up called to say he was stuck in traffic. After half an hour of waiting and with the sun starting to dip, you decided you’d take him yourself. You always keep a spare car seat in your car now, just in case.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” you say softly, standing up and holding his hand as you guide him out of the classroom and towards the car park. Koda bounces along beside you, chattering happily about his day, blissfully unaware of the nagging frustration building in your chest.

You buckle him into the backseat, making sure the car seat is secure, and he leans back, kicking his feet excitedly. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by the fact that his father isn’t there again, which only makes you feel worse. Koda’s gotten used to it, hasn’t he?

The drive to the Jeon estate is familiar by now. You’ve done it more times than you can count, navigating the quiet streets until you reach the tall iron gates that lead to the massive villa. The place is intimidating—cold, imposing, and entirely too big for a single man and his young son. You can’t imagine it ever feels like home to Koda, not the way it should.

When you pull up in front of the house, Koda’s little face lights up. He unbuckles himself as you open the door for him, hopping down and grabbing his backpack from the seat. His small feet patter on the stone driveway as he makes his way towards the front door, and you trail behind, waiting to see if anyone will come to greet him.

“Bye, Mummy!” Koda calls over his shoulder, throwing the words out casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath catches in your throat. Mummy. The word hangs in the air between you, sinking into your skin, your heart.

“Koda—” you start, your voice faltering, but he’s already bounding up the steps, completely unaware of the storm he’s just stirred in your heart.

Before you can process what’s happening, the door swings open, and the nanny—an older woman with kind eyes—waves him inside. You stand there, frozen for a moment, watching as Koda disappears into the house, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Bye, Mummy.

He didn’t mean it, you tell yourself. He couldn’t have meant it.

But the way the word settled in your heart tells you otherwise.

•••••••••••🐺🥊♥️🐺•••••••••••

You glance at the clock on the wall, frustration gnawing at your patience. It’s almost six, and Koda is the last kid left in the classroom, his little legs swinging back and forth as he hums to himself, completely unaware of the time or the fact that, once again, his father hasn’t shown up.

You sigh, pushing aside the stack of papers you were grading and standing up. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and you know it won’t be the last. But today, something feels different. You’re tired—exhausted, really—of making excuses for Jeon Jungkook. Of stepping in when he doesn’t. Of watching Koda sit there with that hopeful little smile, waiting for a dad who never seems to come.

“Stay right there, sweetheart,” you tell Koda, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with wide eyes and nods, still playing with the puzzle pieces on the table. You step out into the hallway, pulling your phone from your pocket, and swipe through your contacts until you find the number you’ve been avoiding calling all day.

Jungkook’s number.

You’ve never actually spoken to him, not directly. It’s always the nanny or the assistant, someone else standing in for him, making excuses on his behalf. But today, you’ve had enough. If he can’t be bothered to show up for his son, then maybe he’ll listen when you lay it out for him. You press call, the phone ringing in your ear as you lean against the wall, occasionally peeking back into the classroom to check on Koda.

The ringing stretches on far too long, and just when you’re about to hang up, there’s a click on the other end. But it’s not Jungkook.

“Hello?” A deep male voice, but not the one you were expecting. It’s his manager—another gatekeeper between you and the man who should be here for his son. “Who’s this?”

You swallow the irritation bubbling up in your throat and answer, “It’s Koda’s teacher, ______. I’ve been waiting for someone to pick him up for over two hours now. Where’s Jungkook?”

The manager clears his throat, and you can already hear the excuse forming in his voice before he even says it. “Ah, yeah, about that. Jungkook just finished a big fight a little while ago. He’s still dealing with press and recovery, so he won’t be able to make it. We’ll send someone to get Koda.”

You close your eyes, the frustration mounting. You’ve heard this same spiel too many times now, and it’s always the same. Always some excuse about the fights, about his busy schedule, about why he’s too important or too caught up to come pick up his own child.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice tight, barely holding onto your patience. “But this has gone on long enough. Koda has been waiting for hours, and it’s not fair to him. If Jungkook doesn’t pick up his son in the next hour, I’ll have no choice but to contact youth welfare. This is unacceptable.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence on the other end, and you wonder if maybe you’ve finally gotten through. The manager stammers a bit, clearly caught off guard. “Uh, I’m sure we can get someone there soon. There’s no need to—”

“Jungkook. An hour,” you cut him off sharply. “That’s all the time he has.”

Without waiting for a response, you hang up, exhaling a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your hands are shaking with a mixture of anger and guilt. You’ve never been one to throw around threats like that, but you’re at your breaking point. Koda deserves better than this—better than a father who seems to have forgotten what it means to show up for his son.

You peer back into the classroom, your heart clenching when you see Koda still happily playing, completely unaware of the tension outside. He deserves so much more than this.

The minutes tick by, each one feeling longer than the last as you sit back down at your desk, your eyes flicking to the clock every few moments. With every passing second, you feel the frustration building, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. You’ve done everything you can for Koda, but you’re not his mother, no matter how much he looks at you like you might be.

Then, just as the clock ticks closer to the hour you’d set, the door to the classroom swings open.

You don’t have to look up to know who it is. You feel it before you even see him—the shift in the air, the sudden prickle at the back of your neck. There’s a strong presence that fills the room, something that tugs at a part of you that you didn’t realise was waiting.

Jeon Jungkook.

When you finally glance up, your breath is lost in your throat. He’s standing in the doorway, still dressed in the aftermath of whatever fight he’s just won. His knuckles are bruised, lip split, his jaw clenched, but it’s his eyes that hold you captive. Dark, intense, and far more focused than you ever expected.

Your heart stutters in your chest as your gaze locks with his, and for a moment, the rest of the world seems to fall away. The anger, the frustration—it all pushes into the background as something else entirely takes its place. It shouldn’t be possible, not when he’s already found his mate—his late mate, who passed when Koda was just a baby. A bond like that is meant to be for life, unbreakable, irreplaceable. And yet, here it is, something deep and undeniable, something that shouldn’t exist but does.

You blink, forcing yourself to break the eye contact, but it’s too late. You’ve felt it. He’s felt it. That connection, that pull.

And suddenly, everything is different.

Koda turns his head slightly, peering up at his father with wide eyes, and then—without a hint of hesitation—screams at the top of his lungs, “Daddy, can you make Miss ___ my mummy? And maybe give me a baby brother?”

For a second, you’re convinced you didn’t hear him right. Surely, Koda didn’t just blurt that out in front of his father. Surely, this isn’t happening. But when you glance at Jungkook, the look on his face tells you that, yes, this is happening. His dark eyes glimmer dangerously, and for a brief moment, a smirk lifts at the Alpha’s lips.

You stand up quickly, your heart still hammering in your chest. “Koda, you can’t just—”

“I’m serious!” Koda insists, his voice high-pitched with excitement. He’s bouncing on his toes now, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. “Miss ___ is really nice, and she makes me happy! And I want a baby brother, too!”

You don’t know what you expect him to do. Maybe scold Koda. Maybe just walk out. But instead, Jungkook finally breaks the silence with his voice surprisingly quiet and melodic voice.

“We’re leaving. You too.”

•••••••••••🐺🥊♥️🐺•••••••••••

How you find yourself pressed against Jungkook’s bedroom door after having dinner and putting Koda to bed is beyond you, but you don’t question it when you’re too busy enjoying Jungkook’s searing hands on your body and his teeth nipping at the skin of your neck.

“My pretty Omega,” he licks a stripe up your throat, ending right at your earlobe as he husks, “you’re mine, hm?”

The whimper and moan escaping your throat can’t be held back, not when his hips press into your clothed cunt just right.

“Yes.”

You’ve never felt this aroused, this high on an Alpha’s scent as you do now, though you reckon it’s just what a mate does to you.

Jungkook rips the top of your dress in half, taking your bra with his powerful pull and leaving your heaving chest exposed to his hungry eyes. His hands are on your tits in an instant, kneading them together as his tongue laps from one nipple to the other, sharp teeth grazing the pebbled tips ever so carefully.

“Jungkook,” you moan, thighs squeezing him a bit closer, hands gripping his hair desperately.

“What do you want, baby?”

“You, just you.” You moan, head hitting the wall as another wave of arousal soaks your panties.

Your head swims from the undeniable strength Jungkook has as he carries you to his bed with ease, and when your back hits the mattress and he rips his own shirt in two, you think you might come there and then. You’ve felt his muscles while you were groping each other, but seeing his physique is maddening beyond words. You regret not watching one of his fights before, just to not be so utterly shocked and bothered by the sight alone.

And as you rub your thighs together, Jungkook emits a low growl, “Stop.”

And you do, whimpering as the little relief you had is now gone too.

“Please, Jungkook.”

“I’ll ask you this one time, and one time only. Do you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want that bond?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking strip.”

And you do, hastily removing the torn dress, bra, and your panties from your trembling body, eyes never leaving Jungkook as he leisurely unbuckles his belt and gets rid of his clothes as well.

His dick springs out of his boxers, the red, leaking tip pointing at you as if aiming where it needs to go. Your mouth waters at the sight, salivating with the same need that has your cunt soaking the sheets.

“Open up,” he demands, and you do, tongue outstretched as he starts jerking himself off, teasing your lips and tongue with his precum and the weight of his big, girthy cock.

“You want to suck it, don’t you?”

Your eyes snap up to his, dark, blown-out pupils scanning your face, but you’re only able to nod ever so slightly.

“You look so small,” he muses, and he’s right. Compared to his cock, your head looks like a miniature, making your thighs again rub needily against each other, knowing he’ll stuff you full, no matter which hole he chooses.

“Should I prepare you, or can you take it?” Jungkook smirks down at you.

“Can take it,” you need to, because God forgive you, you need him inside you now.

Jungkook just chuckles, but he doesn’t argue as he crawls onto the bed like he’s chasing his prey. You push yourself backwards, enjoying this little power play as much as he does. It’s when you’ve nearly reached the head of the bed that you let yourself lay back, Jungkook now hovering over you and pushing your legs apart.

“My beautiful Omega,” he inhales deeply, and you can’t do anything but press your cunt against his tip, letting him slip inside.

At first, you fear he’ll pull back again, but as he groans ever so slightly and starts thrusting, inch by inch, you know you’ve got him.

“Oh my God,” your eyes roll back as your cunt finally adjusts to his sheer size, and he begins moving his hips with strong, slow thrusts, making you cling to his back, nails digging into his muscles.

“___, baby.” Jungkook growls, savouring the taste of your lips like it’s pure honey. There’s nothing you can do but surrender to him, surrender to the bond tying you together with each stroke of his cock.

And just before your high hits you, as Jungkook overwhelmed you mere hours ago, you turn your neck, offering it to him. But he tilts it ever so slightly, just enough for you to have a clear view of his too, spotting nothing but bare, smooth skin where once another mark was.

You shatter the moment your teeth sink into his flesh, causing him to pick up his pace and bite down as well, groaning through his release, hot breath brushing against your skin as his nose presses into you.

The knot that forms is more ecstatic than you ever imagined, fighting against the clamping of your cunt and leaving you lost in yet another release. And while you’re tied together, you’re licking your marks closed, still breathing heavily, Jungkook cradles your head in his big hands, guiding your lips to his in a kiss more loving than you ever thought possible.

“I’m sorry. I’ll never let you down again, never let Koda down again.” He promises between kisses, diving into your mouth as if it’s the air he needs.

“I hope you won’t.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

“I love you too,” but you sure as hell won’t believe him until he says it fully dressed and with post-nut clarity.

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

How JJK men react when (y/n) gets injured

Pairing: Nanami x reader; Megumi x reader; Toji x reader; Geto x reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Warnings: injury (lol), listen I know Geto's one isn't that realistic, I just needed something with a lot of fluff, don't come at me okay, also might be shitty because my sick head isn't funcional at the moment so have mercy How Gojo reacts when (y/n) gets injured can be found here Aaaaand Choso with a injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

Nanami Kento

You weren’t fast enough. The second the bullet enters your skin, you know you fucked up.

“(y/n)!”, Nanami’s distant voice calls out your name.

You clench your teeth, blood pumping in your ears while a stabbing pain spreads in your guts. This is bad. Very very bad. This is a mission you have to complete together, Nanami and Yuji both rely on you. Fuck, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer, even a grade 1. And then you get hit by a bullet this easily?

How pathetic.

It seems like the weight of your own body forces you to your knees, warmth spreading from your stomach over your lower body. Slowly but surely, the stabbing pain in your guts gets less noticeable, you have to fight desperately to keep your eyes from shutting.

Nanami…It’s not fair that you let him hang like this, hit by a random bullet on that random Wednesday. After all, you still had so much to tell him, experiences to share. What about the plans you’ve made earlier about finally asking him out? The words slip off your tongue with every passing second. No matter how hard every fiber of your being fights against the darkness, it proceeds to consume you.

“Goddamnit (y/n)”, Nanami hisses through gritted teeth when he finally reaches you.

“Yuji, take care of that man with the gun!”

“Hey, you can’t die on me today. Keep your eyes open for me, yeah? Don’t close them. Are you able to stand up?”

So much blood. The whole floor underneath you is covered in crimson, making it hard to breathe for Nanami. This shouldn’t have happened, he is fucking responsible for this, he should have kept his eyes open, he-

“I’m so sorry about leaving you hanging, Nanami”, you breathe out.

His heart sinks, hand frantically pressing against your gaping wound while his shaky fingers try to dial Shoko’s number on his phone.

“You won’t leave me today. I’m taking care of you. You’re safe with me.”

A weak smile forms itself on your tired lips as he speaks to Shoko on the phone in hushed tones. While everyone around him thinks he’s harsh and cold-hearted, you know that Nanami is in fact a tender man that puts the safety of others over himself without blinking. You always admired him for how he carries himself with so much class, looking cool while doing the most banal tasks.

“How is your pain level? Do you need anything? Shoko will be here in a minute, I promise”, he speaks to you in a calm but shaky voice.

“I don’t feel any pain. I just feel really really tired.”

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut again when Nanami’s thumb begins to caress your cheek gently.

“Everything will be alright, I promise (y/n)”, he softly murmurs.

You can tell by the way he looks down at you that he means what he says, the way his calm orbs glister making you tear up.

“I really wanted…to ask you out…tonight…”

Every word rolls off your tongue like a heavy stone while your mind seems to let you down.

“I would love that. Just stay with me, okay? Then I’ll invite you to dinner, I’ll even cook your favorite meal for you.”

“That sounds…wonderful…”

“But to do that, you’ll need to hold on for me a little longer, sweetheart. Focus on my voice, breathe with me”, he instructs you.

“Can you…hold me for a while?”

“Of course”, he replies without thinking, firm arms wrapping themselves around your shivering body instantly.

Megumi Fushiguro

Even though you feel like fainting, you don’t stop running behind him. Damn, that curse did really hit you where it hurts, your stabbed thigh feeling like it’s going to give up on you with every step you take.

“Did that curse hurt you?”, he shouts in your direction.

You should really tell him, you know you need help as soon as possible. But something inside you is too proud to open up. After all, the boy in front of you is none other Megumi Fushiguro. You can’t show him weakness, not in a million lifetimes.

“No”, you lie.

Just in time, you make it out of the building that collapses into itself behind you, a wave of rubble and ashes blowing over your head while you lay down, trying desperately not to groan. You press your hand against your thigh to somehow stop the pain, only to get greeted by the sickening sight of blood all over your hands. You swallow heavy, blood running between your fingertips.

“(y/n)? (y/n), where are you, oh, there you-“

Megumi stops in his tracks, eyes widen in horror when is gaze meets the flood of crimson that now covers the floor underneath you.

“You idiot, why did you lie to me?”, he hisses, instantly rushing to your side.

Oh god, there’s a gaping hole in your thigh – a gaping hole that runs like a waterfall. While you’re not that critically injured, the attack might have hit a crucial vein or artery. And that means you could in fact bleed out within the next few minutes if he doesn’t act right now.

Your toe-curling cry echoes through the barracks when Megumi presses his hand against your thigh with full force, making you see stars while a big lump forms in your throat.

“Serves you right. You should have told me that you’re hurt, you know that right? How many fingers?”

He holds up his other hand so close to your face that you can see nothing but his fingertips, a silent laughter escaping your blue colored lips.

“I’m serious (y/n)! Stop laughing and answer the question”, he grumbles.

“5”, you reply weakly.

“It’s two”, he murmurs, eyes scanning over your so worn-out looking face.

“You look rather pale.”

“Oh, I’m not feeling that great to be honest”, you mutter, ice cold sweat clamming to your skin.

He lets out his breath, gaze fixated on you. It seems like his anger fades away the more he looks at you, shivering uncontrollably while your eyes flutter open and shut all the time. Urgh, even though you’re suborn as hell, you absolutely don’t deserve to feel like this.

“Come on, stop acting up. You’ve had worse.”

You don’t reply. Instead, your hand grabs his arm, holding onto him for what feels like dear life as a single tear runs down your face. You hate to admit it, but you’re scared as hell. If feels like life is slipping through your fingers, seconds play before your eyes like a movie. This is the first time you’ve ever got injured like that. And even if Megumi tries to play it cool, you can tell by the way he scrunches his forehead that it’s looking anything but great.

“I just didn’t want you to think I’m weak”, you admit quietly.

His heart skips a beat, his features soften in an instant.

“Are you kidding? I’d never think you’re weak, (y/n). To be honest I’m surprised you haven’t fainted yet”, he remarks dryly.

To be honest he is surprised that he himself hasn’t fainted, considering all the flood that spills through his fingertips. But he has to be strong, he has to get through this with you.

“Pinky promise?”, you croak, holding up your shaky hand with all the strength that’s left in your body.

“Pinky promise”, Megumi whispers, intertwining his finger with your little one.

Toji Fushiguro

“Oooops my bad, that one should have normally killed you”, the man in front of you mumbles, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

You shake in pure horror, pain rushing through your shoulder as you hold onto the gaping wound his bullet left in your sensitive skin.

“Please don’t kill me”, you weep, crawling backwards until your back hits the ice cold wall.

Spilling tears take your sight completely, you can’t help but burst into weeping without any mercy. Toji stares down at you, cold eyes surprised by your sight.

“I think I’ve never seen someone bawling this much. Did it really hurt that bad, huh?”

You stare at him through wet lashes, whole body on fire when his frame comes closer and closer. No, you need to run as fast as you can, away from this wicked place, out of his sight.

But instead, you sit still, glazed eyes fixated on his stunning features.

Roughly, he grabs your face, making you weep all over again.

“You’re actually quite cute…Maybe too cute to die…”

“Oh, come on sweet thing, stop crying for me will you?”

His thumb traces over your puffy cheeks, wipes away the trail of tears his bullet and the promise of death that’s threatening in his eyes left on your porcelain skin.

You can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like a fish on land with your hand still pressed against your aching shoulder.

“Sorry ‘bout that”, he mumbles, other hand reaching for your shoulder.

“Please don’t hurt me”, you cry out, flinching under his surprisingly gentle touch.

“I’m a man of honor, I’d never hurt you”, he replies with casual voice.

“Ahh, nothing too bad. A few kisses and you’re fine.”

You blink against the swell of tears, urgently trying to calm yourself down. Aching, fear and insecurity simply take your breath away. But the man in front of you…Despite looking so dangerous, it’s almost as if his face softened, as if he really means what he said.

“Now stop cryin’, ‘kay? I’m sorry ‘bout that shoulder of yours, thought you’re here to kill me or something.”

“I would never kill anyone”, you reply with shaky voice.

Why would you come here to kill him? All of this makes no sense to you. You just walked home from work, ready to take a bath and watch Netflix when all of the sudden, all this men came out of nowhere, dragging you along with him until the man in front of you killed them and shoot you.

“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t princess. Just a misunderstanding.”

“It hurts”, you press out, a shocking wave of pain throbbing through your arm when you try to shift your weight.

“Wouldn’t do that if I was you. Let’s make a deal: I’ll get someone to stitch you up and you’ll spend the night with me, huh?”

Your doe eyes stare up at him in nothing but innocence. Oh, you truly know nothing about the cruel world around you, probably not even able to see curses. What a cute little thing you are, too good for the world around you and especially Toji himself. But he just can’t resist.

“And you’re really not going to kill me?”, you whine into his hand.

Gently, he wraps his fingertips around your chin.

“Of course not, princess. You’re way too precious to die”, he purrs.

Geto Suguru

You know that it’s stupid, that Geto is more than capable to look after himself. But the second a curse rushes his direction, you sprint forwards, shielding his body with your own.

Resulting in not only the teeth of the curse scratching your skin, but one of Geto’s curses hitting your head with full force.

You fall to the hard ground immediately, soul leaving your body behind. Instead of pain, you just feel numb, staring into the sound while the only thing that reminds you that you’re still alive is the growing ringing in your ears.

Geto’s heart drops the second you fall to the ground in front of him, naked fear crawling up his spine. No, no, no. This can’t be true. He didn’t just hit you full force, right? Instinctively, he falls to his knees besides you, grabbing your shoulders.

“Please tell be you’re alright, (y/n)”, he repeats over and over, hands holding onto you for dear life.

He knows you are tuff, that you can take a lot. But this…

Please don’t let it be too much.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you”, he mumbles, fingertips now gently stroking over your hair.

All you can do is stare into his brown eyes above you, body refusing its service completely. God, how absolutely stunning this man looks. Yes, it should be forbidden to look this good. Maybe you should ask him out when your mouth is working again, a nice date in a park or something. His facial features look so delicious that you want to let your hands glide along his jawline, just the way the other hand is doing right now.

“I would love to lick that”, you mutter so suffocated that Geto almost misses it.

Almost. Along with your fingertips that move up and down his jaw, his face reddens in an instant. What has gotten into you? Since when are you this flirty, this straightforward? You must’ve hit your head pretty badly.

“(y/n), I think you should see a doctor”, he suggests while awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“I think I should see more of you, handsome”, you babble out.

“You hit your head pretty badly.”

“And your head is pretty.”

He signs. Although your sugary words make his heart hammer against his ribcage, he has to remind himself that you’re probably having a concussion - at least. At the moment, he can’t take your words seriously, no matter how hard he wants them to be true.

“Okay, I’ll call Shoko now. Do you feel alright? Does your head hurt? Does something else hurt? Please talk to me, (y/n).”

You smile at him widely, too mesmerized by the way that one strand of hair falls so effortlessly on his striking face.

“What a shame I never told you how beautiful you are”, you blurt out, fingertips grabbing nothing but air in an attempt to get a hold of his hair.

He can’t hold a small grin back. God, how are you doing that? Looking so fine with your arm ripped open by a curse and your eyes roaming around without an aim?

“Look, I’m not the brightest tool in the…toolbox.”

Geto raises an eyebrow in amusement at your creative phrase.

“But I…I mean it…Suguru…”, you mutter out his name.

“Let’s talk about this again when your head wasn’t hit by a curse shaped like a huge dragon, okay?”, he softly whispers, hand still stroking through your messy hair.

“Yeah…S-sure…” _____________________________________________________________ Now that you've made it this far

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dyaz-stories · 11 months ago

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a house, not a home || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, hyun-su needs a hug, unresolved tension, mentions of blood

a/n: okay so, for context, this takes place during season 2. reader and hyun-su know each other from high school and reader runs into hyun-su after the events of the first three episodes. reader also doesn't know that he is a monster/neohuman though if people are interested i could definitely write that 👀 I hope you'll like it! Please let me know your thoughts and if you'd like me to write more, and consider reblogging!

next part

The hardest thing to get used to, after what others called the Monsterization Outbreak but you labelled, more simply, the Apocalypse, was the silence. You were the type of person to always have music playing, back when you were a high schooler studying hard to get into your college of choice. Now, music was wasted electricity and, worse, could be a death sentence if anyone — anything — heard it play, or if it dulled your senses and got you killed.

At the beginning, there had been lots of sounds. Screams. Cars colliding. Stores’ alarms, blaring when the looters broke in. Sobs. In your house, for a while, there had been your father, humming quietly as he worked.

Then he’d gotten a nosebleed, left the house, and never returned.

Now it was just you, and you’d learned not to make a sound. So when there’s a knock on your door, it echoes through the rooms and rattles you to your core. For a second, you clench your trusty baseball bat. You took hours and cut your fingers planting nails into it, but it’s worth it, if only for the feeling of confidence it gives you. Truth is, you rarely had to use it. Your strategy relies on avoiding confrontation at all costs.

You release it when you realize that there are very few people who can come knocking at your door.

After all, monsters don’t knock.

You rush to the door without letting go of the bat. Your habits are ingrained in you well enough that you still check the peephole — and when you do, your heart somersaults in your chest.

You keep the hinges well-oiled and the door doesn’t make a sound when you open it.

“Come in,” you whisper, not daring to break the silence with actual words.

Cha Hyun-Su stares at you, looks like he hesitates. He always does, looks like he wants to give you a chance to slam the door back in his face. He’s covered in blood now — ‘not mine’, you know he’d say if you asked —, clutching his wrist, lips chapped, eyes hollow.

“Come on,” you say again, and this time he does, walking by you without a word. Then he goes still once more, there in your entrance, while you close the door behind him. He always does that, until you give him explicit permission.

“Are you okay?” you ask when you turn around, hands reaching for his arms, his torso, trying to check on him, though you cannot see whether or not he is hurt.

“I’m fine,” he replies with that deep voice of his, catching your wrists before you can feel for yourself. “It’s not my blood.”

It never is.

“But are you hurt?” you press, still.

He frowns, and confusion sparks in his eyes.

“I told you. I’m fine.”

You shake your head.

“No, I mean— Does it hurt? Does anything hurt?”

Hyun-Su’s lips part. He closes his eyes. His body sways towards yours, and you freeze. You feel his breath against your cheek, and his grip on your wrist becomes lighter— a caress, at most. You just stay there, not wanting to scare him away, but not wanting to leave him to himself either. You feel a pull towards him, the urge to wrap your arms around him, and you resist it, knowing that he’d flee.

Finally, he snaps out of it, lets go of you, takes a step back.

“I’m fine,” he repeats for a third time.

You don’t push it.

“Do you want to take a bath?”

Clean water isn’t easy to come by these days. Fortunately for you, you have a complex system designed to retain rain water as well as morning dew, put in place by your father, when he was still around. It’s rained recently, and with the help of solar panels you’d stolen with him what feels like a lifetime ago, you’ll be able to have hot water. Showers, you haven’t mastered — though you’re sure your dad would have figured it out by now — but you can at least offer him a warm bath.

Hyun-Su’s eyes are on you, wide and focused.

They’re ever so slightly warmer than they were when he came in.

“I would like that.”

Hyun-Su comes out of the bathroom some thirty minutes later, clean and looking more like himself. He’s wearing clothes he’d left there on one of his other visits, which you’d washed by hand among some of your stuff.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice firmer than it had been earlier.

“It’s not a problem,” you reply, and you have to stop yourself from grimacing at how fake your nonchalance sounds to your ears.

If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Have you been okay here?” he asks instead.

You bite the inside of your cheek. The answer is complicated. You’ve been safe, physically that is. You have barely caught sight of a monster since he’s last been here — nine days ago. You can’t say you’re bored, either. There’s always things to do, to fix, to figure out around here.

What you are, is alone.

And, though you don’t want to admit it, lonely.

It might be the kind of answer he’s looking for, yet you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. It’s not even that you don’t want him to know.

It’s that you’re scared that if you did, if you asked him to stay or to take you with him, he would still leave you behind.

“I make do,” you reply, which at least isn’t a lie. “I keep myself busy.”

It’s your turn to freeze when Hyun-Su leans forward, trying to meet your eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

A smile escapes you at his cautious tone as he repeats your words at you. You look up, and there he is, inches away from your face, checking on you in the very same way you’d checked on him when he’d arrived — now that he’s had the time and space to collect himself. For half a second, the corner of his lips lifts clumsily to form a smile in response to yours, and then it’s gone, as he, too, realizes how close he is.

You see him sucking in a breath, then swallowing, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Your heart beats so loud in your ears, you can’t even hear the silence anymore.

“I’m not hurt,” you say, and it is true for now, at least.

Hyun-Su nods without moving away. There’s an intensity in his eyes that you’re not used to, a spark, a craving.

His eyes drop to your lips.

Your whole body is tingling with anticipation, yet you don’t move, no matter how badly you want to close the gap between you. You can’t rush him. You’d never forgive yourself, if he didn’t come back.

He leans forward, just by an inch, then closer again, so close and—

He turns his head at the last moment, late enough that his cheek brushes against yours, before he pulls himself back.

That hurts. It makes your heart ache more than you’ve let yourself hurt in forever.

“Sorry,” Hyun-Su mumbles, stumbling back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re not sure if he’s apologizing for trying to kiss you, or for not doing it.

“I’ve brought you food,” he says in a rush, picking up his backpack by the entrance door.

You watch him as he does, and you can’t help but note the many wounds on his body. Most of them are half-closed, and you know that they’ll be gone by the next time he comes back, but that new ones will have had the time to open and heal halfway.

He hands you his offering of food, without meeting your eyes this time, and you take it from him. Your fingers brush against him, and he moves his hand away like you’ve just burned him.

“It’s late,” you say, your voice quiet even to your own ears, even now that you’re so accustomed to the lack of noise. You don’t want him to go, not just yet. “You should sleep here.”

But, just like you expected, Hyun-Su shakes his head and closes his backpack with shaky hands.

“I need to go,” he says. Then, when you don’t answer — can he tell you’re fighting back tears? —, he adds “I’ll come back. I promise.”

You nod. It’s your turn to avoid his eyes.

“I’ll be waiting,” you say.

You open the door for him, and you force yourself to look at him as he steps back outside, into the unknown, into the danger, and away from you.

He looks back, right before disappearing in the night.

“Stay safe,” you say, though you know he won’t.

“You too,” he says, knowing you will.

And then he’s gone, and you’re alone with the silence again.

next part

#hyunsu x reader #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home #sweet home netflix #cha hyun su #sweet home x reader #sweet home season 2 #hyun su x reader #cha hyunsoo #cha hyunsoo x reader #hyunsoo x reader

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a-hazbin-reader · 9 months ago

Note

Hi 👋🏽 I really like your stuff! I was wondering; could we possibly have some platonic headcanons for Husk where he has this unspoken kind of parent-kid relationship with the reader?

And the funny thing is that some of the others speculate that it’s no coincidence that the reader’s weirdly good at cards. Like, the reader doesn’t look exactly like him per say, but they bare enough of a resemblance to him that it has the other wondering is Husk could have possibly (unknowingly) had a kid while he was alive. No one knows. Not even us.

♦️ plz, and thank you ♥️

This is so fucking cute!!

Husk X Reader Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Reader being a sad baby, Kidnapping, Underage drinking, Harassment, Reader needs help fr

Description: ☝️⬆️

Sure, technically you were an adult but you're also still just a kid

You thought you knew everything, you thought you were grown and didn't need to rely on anybody

You didn't need to open up to anybody, you grew up tough and went out like a badass

You weren't hurt or angry at the world at all

It's your attitude towards these things that makes Husk look out for you, keeping a watchful eye on you even when you don't want him to

You're trying to get a drink at a bar?? He's dragging you out and telling you that you're too young for that shit

Fucking hypocrite you drink all the time

You're getting into a fight with someone 10x your fucking size?? Husk is there to tackle them and take you home

Lectures you the entire way back if you're the one who started it

Some sleazy motherfucker is hitting on you?(Or even if it's not someone sleazy really) He's there to tell them to keep walking

Even if you don't want them to

BRO WTF

Even the others at the hotel slip up and call him your dad which just pisses you off even more

"Angel! Let me have a drink!!"

"No way, kid! Your pops would totally kill me if I let you get wasted!"

Definitely causes some arguments between you two, the kind that makes everyone else in the hotel scatter

"You're not in charge of me, Husk! Just leave me alone!!"

"You think you got it all figured out, don't you? Well you fucking don't! You're not the biggest baddest thing out there! Hell, you're not even the baddest thing in this hotel!"

Not Alastor giving you cheeky wave as he walks by

Once the fight reaches it's peak then you storm off, fed up with being treated like a child

"I don't need a father so just back off!"

Husk needs a drink

Fine, let's see how you like it when nobody is looking out for you

You and Husk don't speak for awhile after that but you're too stubborn to admit that you miss him

You begin to act out whether you realize it or not, wanting him to come and yell at you like he used to

It was actually nice having someone who cared enough about you to fight with you over your choices

So you take your newfound freedom and sneak into a club that you've been trying to get into for awhile

You meet some fun people and party with them, drinking every drink they slide your way, dancing with whoever grabbed you

After awhile though you begin to feel dizzy and sick, you desperately need some fresh air

And some water

"Hey where you going, squirt??? We're just getting started!!"

Hey let go-

Ow! That hurts! Why are you grabbing so hard!?

I said let go of me-

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

HUSK-

You nearly cry at the sight of him, fur bristling with anger, wings spread out, arms crossed

You break away and run to him immediately, hugging him tight and relaxing as he wraps a protective arm around you

You'll blame it on the alcohol later

"You okay, kid?"

You don't see how he never takes his eyes off your friends turned attackers

You just nod and hide your face in his chest, squeezing him tighter

"I wanna go home..."

Husk immediately softens up and carries you home, making sure nobody follows the two of you

He takes care of you the entire night and has a hangover remedy ready for you in the morning

No lecture from him this time, he just quietly takes care of you then leaves

Charlie and Vaggie will later tell you that he stayed with you the whole night, refusing to leave your side

You'll have to seek him out on your own once you feel better, sitting on a bar stool and clearing your throat

"I'm not going to fix you a drink so just forget it-"

"Thank you...for...you know..."

Husk visibly softens up once he registers your words, sighing as he sets his rag down

It takes all of his strength to power through his next words, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable

Telling you that he's not trying to baby you when he stops you from doing certain things, or when he tells you that you're too young

He's just trying to look out for you because he cares about you

And no matter how angry with him you get, he'll always come bail you out of trouble and you can always come to him with anything

Sure, he might not be your father but he's definitely your daddy

Wait fuck that came out wrong

DON'T YOU LAUGH AT HIM

It sounded cool in the movie!!

It's not that funny!! You are ruining the moment

Husk is so fucking embarrassed now, forget he said anything

Freezes up when you suddenly leap across the counter to hug his neck, squeezing him in a way that makes his heart melt

Hugs you back while awkwardly petting your head, feeling like his old heart is about to burst

"Thanks for everything, Husk~"

NO HE'S NOT CRYING

I GOT VERY CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS I'M SORRY!! I hope you still enjoy it!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #husk hazbin hotel

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beware-thecrow · 3 months ago

Text

I fucking hate BNHA The last panel about "granma is here" in fact further proves my point on another post of how empty and nonsensical BNHA became in the last arc because AfO wanting Tomura from the very beginning made impossible for him to be saved anyway, which means all his beef with the heroes became unjustified and his speech about violence and heroes and villains held no importance in the end. Why?

Because you cannot have a character built over the premise that society was so corrupt and selfish that put a little boy in the bad bad villain's reach for 5 arcs, to then say "oh, wait. He was fucked anyway because the bad bad guy was behind everything all along"

A bad bad guy not even all might in his prime could defeat, so it doesn't matter if people would or wouldn't help others. "It's all bad bad guy's fault anyway and he's practically immortal." Perfect, now we know granma didn't stand a chance against AfO, he planned this.

The whole idea of a society that relies on heroes too much instead of everyone doing their part from kindness falls like a house of cards if you have an evil so corrupt that none of said kindness will mean a thing. The moment Horikoshi went from "Tomura was found by AfO" to "Tomura was planned by AfO" the core theme of his series crumbled down. The league as a device lost its meaning, the characters that composed it became unjustified because whatever motivation they had was in fact a manipulation from the greater evil. And this applies to everyone.

What's the point in Toga and Twice calling out the lack of help for people with mental illness and problematic quirks if the message still is "If you do bad things out of despair no one will help you and you'll get killed." And yes, Toga died loved, Toga wanted to be loved, but she didn't wanted to die?? She was literally an abandoned child who found a family and ended up dying giving blood to the same girl she stabbed. And yeah, it's kinda poetic she died giving blood instead of taking it, but what was the point if she doesn't get to know she's loved? Further more, are we really to believe Ochako loved Toga? A girl she literally didn't know. Sorry, but once I got lost in a mall and a police officer helped me find my mom, that doesn't mean the officer loved me. And yeah, Ochako tried her best to be a good hero, but it's not about what the characters do, it's what the story tells you it happens with what they do. The story just told you the ill and abandoned die in the end before anyone helps them. And they die hunted by the police. What's the point of Touya as a whole? oh, wait. I know, it must be very awful for Endeavor to be such a bad person, his child ended up incapacitated. Very hard on Endeavor. Fuck Dabi being turned into a piece of charcoal, IT'S HARD ON HIS DAD.

What's the point in Spinner pointing out discrimination and people following him if in the end we got that he should have stayed in his lane, in his room, friendless because he only went out to be seen by someone who accepted him, just to have that person tortured in front of him before he was killed. And for what? For a teen to tell him "Yo, bro. I punched your bestie to death, make a comic about it. Btw you'll be staying in jail forever. So so sorry for you guys." Proving once again, murder is okay if you are on the right side of the story. No matter how much compassion, Tomura showed Spinner, or how much he suffered through life. Heroes had the right to kill him, and there was nothing Spinner (who legit loved his friend) could do about it because AfO had taken over. Again, another good character turned pointless, with a pointless point of view, with a pointless conclusion because he can tell the story of Tomura Shigaraki all he wants FROM JAIL, but under the public eye Tomura will go down as an insane mass murderer either way since looking at him in any other light would inevitably make a target of Izuku for killing him and that won't happen. You cannot have "the best hero ever" and "he killed this dude that was kinda right" in the same sentence. It doesn't make sense. Not to mention his case against discrimination went nowhere since everyone who followed him became a villain and the only person who actually makes a point about discrimination ends up being Deku on another, totally different chapter that had nothing to do with Spinner. And...he's a hero so he can say whatever he wants, we go back to "questioning bad, unless a hero says it" and "people are really that horrible in BNHA universe".

Tomura's case it's even more fucked because even when he said he didn't want a future, every single wish he had fell flat. His hatred for not being saved as a child proved to be out of anyone's control, his desire to destroy society didn't land because nothing really changed. There are still schools for child soldiers, and people are still not questioning the violence heroes use to keep the status quo, and certainly no one is wondering how is that a couple of heroes were able to kill a couple of villains (because so far Hawks still has a job). His friends ended up dead or locked away, and the child in him that begged to be saved ended up...being not. In the end, we got a suffering festival for Tomura, from his granma being pushed to drop her kid, his dad being tricked, his parents getting killed in front of him, Mon-chan and Hana's memory squeezed dry and young Tenko asking for help while Tomura was assaulted by his creepy guardian for 200 chapters straight just to tell us that Deku at sixteen was a great hero for putting a twenty one-year-old dissociated guy out of his misery like a euthanized dog. And for what? To finish a guy who was infatuated with his dead brother AND THAT COULD HAVE BEEN EXECUTED IN JAIL LIKE...300 CHAPTERS AGO, since the manga already made the point that villains can be executed with little repercussion, and it can be justified if said villain it's a threat. Then...why was AfO alive to begin with? Oh, I guess this is something we can trust to a 16 year old instead of... the government or whatever. And yeah, these are tragic figures, they certainly are, but you can hardly claim that they achieved anything in the end because the first premise of the league, why it was formed and why they joined was

To live as we want/are. And now they are dead, or locked away, or bedridden crispy for something that was planted by someone else from the very beginning. And what they believed didn't change anything in the end because it's not like the public saw them do something meaningful but, again, they are being told what to believe, by whom? BY THE HEROES. Are we really arguing that Iguchi's comic will change society? ARE WE FOR REAL????? Have you ever read the story of Jesus Christ? he died for our sins by Marvel. And on top of that as the last nail in the coffin to prove that NOTHING changed, Hawks really said rebranding + target audience =📈🤙🏼 StOnKS✨ I wish I was joking.

#Iguchi it's about to make a lot of money if he sells the rights of his story to Disney #bnha critical #bnha leaks #my two cents I'm rambling this is incredible

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too-much-tma-stuff · 4 months ago

Text

Reclaiming What Was Lost (Part 13)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

“Will you come up to the roof with me?” Dick asked softly, he’d pulled Jason aside once the Teen Titans filtered out to head home, Tim and Ellie had lingered a bit longer to hug their family members, but even they had left now. “There’s someone else who’d like to talk to you, if you’re up to it?”

Danny was there in a flash, sometimes Jason forgot about Danny’s enhanced hearing until moments like this when he leaned against Jason’s shoulder and half glared at Dick. “Who is it?” He demanded to know suspiciously, Dick looked startled.

“Oh, it’s…” He glanced back and forth between the two of them. He’d probably wanted to talk to Jason alone and underestimated the extent to which the two of them didn’t do anything alone at this point. At least not without prior discussion and, usually, having a tracker on each other. “Diana was hoping to see you again.”

Jason’s breathing caught in his throat and stopped entirely for a long moment. Danny looked up at him worriedly, pressing impossibly closer and giving a questioning little trill. “Jason?” He prompted softly. Jason shook his head, trying to knock himself out of his stupor, it didn’t particularly work but at least he was breathing again. He had been both hoping for and dreading this, and now that it was happening he didn’t know what to do.

“Jay, I don’t think she’s mad,” Dick said softly, stepping a little closer and resting a hand on his arm, ignoring or not noticing Danny’s little growl when he stepped into their space. “She doesn’t have a no killing rule like B. She is… upset, but I think it’s because of what happened to you, not because of anything you did, or being disappointed in you.”

“I hope so, because I don’t think I could stand her being disappointed in me.” Jason meant it to be a joke, but it came out far too raw. He took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and nodded. “I’ll come,” He agreed, shaking out his arms and drawing on what determination he could.

“Can I come,” Danny asked softly, still tucked against Jason’s side, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes Jason thought were probably unintentional. He didn’t mean to pressure Jason into letting him come, he just wanted to be there to help in any way he could.

“Yes, you can come. Just.. let me handle it okay? Unless she attacks me I guess-”

“She won’t!” Dick put in, shocked at the suggestion.

“Right,” Jason said, nodding again. “But unless she does, just hang back and let us talk,” He told Danny gently.

“Alright,” Danny said. It might be just a little bit of a struggle for him because he was used to jumping in when Jason was struggling to express his feelings, but Jason believed that he would do it. Unless Jason asked Danny to, so he’d just have to resist doing that impulsively if things got hard. Danny was good at expressing Jason’s feelings for him, but Jason didn’t want to rely on Danny for this, especially because he didn’t know the history between Jason and Diana.

“Alright, she’s waiting for us now. She has been for a bit but I didn’t want to break up the party and she said she’d wait as long as we needed. I know she was always your hero Jay, but she cared about you too,” Dick encouraged, before leading the way up to the roof. The stair to the roof access had never felt so long to Jason, he was glad to have Danny right behind him or he might have turned back.

Jason hesitated in the doorway when he saw Diana’s outline, sitting on the edge of the roof with her back to them, her long curly hair swishing slightly in the night breeze. She must have heard them though, because she turned to face them and smiled softly. Jason took a deep breath and stepped out of the doorway, walking across the roof towards her. She met him half way in a flash and he flinched as she reached out to him, and pulled him quickly into her arms.

“You’ve grown so much, Little Bird,” She murmured into his hair. She was barely taller than him anymore, it had felt like she would tower over him forever, and now they were the same height. He was an adult, he was grown, he still felt small in her arms.

He hugged her back and burst into tears, pressing his face into her shoulder.

“Ohh, little warrior,” Diana soothed and lamented, cradling the back of his head and holding him close as he sobbed like he hadn’t since he was a child. “You’ve been so brave, I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through.”

Why was he crying? He was crying for the child who he had been, the child who had to grow up far too fast and who had died. He had still been a teenager when he was resurrected, he was barely out of his teens now and he had missed those years he’d grown the most in a haze of glowing green rage. He wore a helmet so no one would know how young he was. Running his fucking empire of crime when he could have been in his second year of university if the Joker hadn’t killed him. Could have had a… not good, but maybe decent relationship with his adopted father. He grieved furiously for what might have been had the world been kinder.

“You’re still a warrior Jason. You’re protecting your people, as any good leader should. I’m proud of the man you’ve become,” Wonder Woman told him and Jason sobbed again, clinging to her hard enough that it would probably hurt an ordinary person but she was sturdy.

“You- You have no idea how much that means to me,” He gasped brokenly.

“I know, and I mean it. You will build a good life for yourself here, things will be better,” She cooed, rocking him gently. “You have your lover, you have your brothers, and your friends. And me, now that we know that you’re back you won’t be alone anymore. We won’t lose you again,” She promised him. “Just promise me that if you are ever in a situation like that again, you’ll call us this time.”

“I promise,” Jason agreed and it felt like he was finally able to breathe, after so fucking long the weight on his chest lifted a little. Danny believed in him, Dick and Tim didn’t fight with him, but Danny would have followed Jason anywhere, and not fighting was not the same as believing. That Diana was proud of him, that someone else truly believed in him, meant more to him then he would have imagined. “Thank you.”

A part of him wanted to pull away, pull himself together as quickly as possible to avoid the appearance of weakness. But he needed this, she had been like a parent to him and he had been so starved for parental love. He took a deep breath and tried to pull away, but she held him tighter.

“Take as much as time as you need to,” She told him softly, earnestly enough that he let himself believe it and relaxed back into her arms. She just held him as he cried out the years and the abandonment of his father, the death of both of his mothers, and all the shit he’d been put through with the League. “Never doubt that you are loved.”

Finally Jason pulled back and wiped the wetness from his eyes. They felt puffy and a little sore, but he felt much better anyway, if thirsty as hell! Jason glanced around and saw Danny hovering nearby, looking uncertain and worried. “I’m okay Beloved,” Jason said, opening his arms to his boyfriend who flitted into them immediately and held Jason fiercely, nuzzling into his chest.

“Thank you for coming to see us, Diana. Um, this is Danny, Hyena. He’s been my partner since pretty soon after I came back, and my boyfriend a bit more recently.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Diana said warmly, reaching out to shake Danny’s hand waiting till Danny decided he was willing to let go of Jason with one hand at least. Jason could tell as they shook hands they were both squeezing too hard, testing each other. “Don’t you hurt him, he’s been through enough,” She warned Danny softly.

“I’m not planning on it,” Danny agreed, leaning against Jason’s chest lightly. “We’ll invite you over for dinner sometime soon, if you’d like to come. Won’t we Jason?” He asked, glancing up at Jason who nodded.

“Of course, just give us a heads up and you’re welcome to visit any time really,” Jason reiterated.

“Thank you, I would like to get to know the man you’ve become as well as I did the child you were,” Diana told him. “I will call you soon. I want to have another… chat with Bruce tonight.” She said grimly, she gave Jason one more hug, and nodded to Danny before she leapt off the roof and across half a block in one bound, carrying on out of sight quickly.

“I told you it would go well didn’t I Jay?” Dick said, and Jason had almost forgotten he was there. He’d been hanging back, watching the touching scene. As he walked forward he brushed some tears from his eyes even as he smiled, the sentimental bastard.

Jason stepped forward and scooped Dick up in a tight hug, lifting his feet off the ground as Dick wheezed. “Ya, you did, thanks Dick,” He said before putting Dick down just as quickly. “Now don’t overstay your welcome. I want to go home,” He muttered gruffly, he had had just about enough emotions for today.

“Right, of course little brother, I’ll see you soon,” Dick agreed, patting Jason’s shoulder before he headed out as well.

Jason turned back into Danny’s waiting arms, drooping and letting his forehead rest on Danny’s shoulder, letting Danny hold him. God he was exhausted. What a fucking day. He let Danny guide him home using his powers to lower them through the roof so they could skip the stairs.

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

It seemed like after that disaster of a meeting the news that the second Robin was back was hot gossip in the hero community. It worked its way around the grapevine and Jason received calls from a few more heroes who found out who he was. Not all of them went well, some seemed downright disgusted by what he’d chosen to do with his life. But it was mostly fine, he didn’t really care what they thought about him anyway.

There was one call Jason still hadn’t gotten, and wouldn’t admit that he was waiting for, but he’d heard about what had happened to Roy. Kidnapped and cloned and kept unconscious for years by CADMUS. Ah the joys of being a child hero huh?

He went by Arsenal now apparently, and it seemed like what they’d been through, while not exactly similar… Well, they both had just about comparable levels of angst. Surely Roy wouldn’t judge him, surely Roy would reach out? Or was he too mad that Jason hadn’t reached out first, that he’d had to hear his friend was alive through the rumour mill? Jason would understand that honestly, he’d thought about reaching out, he really had! But somehow he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Danny could tell he was worried and was worried too in turn, hovering near him more often and watching as Jason compulsively checked his ‘work phone’. Danny had asked what was wrong, but when Jason had just shook his head he seemed to resign himself to waiting out whatever this was and supporting Jason as well as he could. Jason didn’t want to worry Danny, but he didn’t want to talk about his quiet yearning for his old best friend. Speaking about it would make it too real, and Danny would probably advise him to just call Roy. It wouldn’t be bad advice, but Jason just wasn’t ready to hear it.

Jason was just starting to resign himself to the fact that he was going to have to reach out himself when the phone call finally came. When it rang Jason snatched it up quickly and answered it before the ringing could disturb Danny’s sleep. Pausing the movie Danny had fallen asleep to so that he could focus on the call.

“Hey Fuckface, too good for your oldest friend now?” Roy’s voice came through the phone. It was deeper and rougher then Jason remembered but it was still familiar, it still had that slight, almost unplaceable accent that Roy had.

“Course not, it’s good to hear from you,” Jason said, smiling despite the fear that Roy was mad at him. Fuck it was good to hear his voice again!

“Then why didn’t you call me?” Roy demanded, furious and hurt. Jason couldn’t blame him.

“I… I wasn’t ready to, after everything. I wasn’t ready to be Jason again for a really long time and then I was worried it was too long and you’d be mad. I’m really sorry, I should have reached out,” Jason said, ashamed of himself.

“No… I’m still mad but I do get that,” Roy admitted, the wind leaving his sails abruptly. “I couldn’t go back to being who I was after what happened to me either. That’s why I go by Arsonal now, you heard that right?”

“I did ya, and I heard what happened too. I’m sorry dude, we both got the shit end of this ‘hero’ stick huh?” Hood said with a bitter little chuckle.

“Yep. And everyone’s still pissy we want to be a little selfish with our skills now. But I just want to live a good life and have a little fun now! And provide for my little girl.”

“Your-” Jason cut off, his jaw dropping for a moment. “Holy shit, Roy do you have a kid?!”

“Ya I do. Her name is Lian and she’s the light of my life. Her mama’s in prison so it’s just the two of us, so I do what I gotta do to provide for her while spending the least amount of time away from her I can manage. The jobs I take have gotta be worth getting a nanny to take care of her too, and you would not believe how expensive childcare is!”

“Congratulations dude! I’m sure you’re a great dad,” Jason cheered softly. He was, though the Roy he’d known before he went missing would probably have been a shit father the way Roy talked about his daughter now left no doubt in Jason’s mind Roy was a good dad.

“Thanks dude, I certainly try. What about you? No kids but I’ve heard through the grapevine you’ve got a partner?” Roy asked with a teasing note to his voice. It was like no time had passed, it made Jason smile even as he blushed just a little.

“Ya, Hyena has been through a lot of the same shit as me. He understands me, you know? He’s… he’s really good to me, puts up with more of my shit then he should have to and I love him for it.”

“Damn, I’d like to meet him. And see you. It’s been too long since I’ve had contact with… any of our old crowd you know? They just don’t understand anymore,” Roy sighed, Jason echoed the sound.

“Ya, I do know. You should come visit, we’ll get some drinks and the three of us can bond. You’ll like him, maybe you’ll get two friends for the price of one,” Jason suggested hopefully.

“Ya, maybe. That would be nice. How about.. Next Thursday? Weekends are always busiest for our ilk, eh?”

“Ya, that sounds good.”

“You don’t have to ask Hyena first?” Roy questioned curiously.

“No, he won’t mind. He’s pretty content to go wherever I go honestly,” Jason said with a little shrug.

“He’s there with you right now?” Roy sounded amused.

“Ya, he’s asleep with his head on my lap,” Jason chuffed, glancing down at Danny and stroking his hair, his presence barely registered to Jason anymore. He was always there, being with Danny was like being alone, but so, so much better. Being with Danny had all the comfort of being alone with none of the loneliness, coldness, or opportunities to spiral. He felt his heart flutter as under his hand Danny’s purr stuttered and then grew louder as he cuddled in closer.

“Hmph, will you wake him up so I can give him a shovel talk?” Roy asked, and Jason got the impression he was only half joking.

“No need, Nightwing already gave him one, and they’re all pretty performative anyway since he could beat up God in a Denny's parking lot… To be honest that’s something that’s bothered me. Not the power thing, I mean people want to give him a shovel talk about me, but no one’s given me one about him. And I’ve definitely hurt him worse than he’d ever hurt me, but there’s no one… left. Besides his little sister and I don’t think she will. She needs to believe he’s indestructible because he’s all she has left,” He sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch cushions.

“Holy shit dude,” Roy breathed on the other side of the phone, with a sigh that made Jason wince with the static.

“Ya, sorry, I think I got a little too deep there. This is the first time I’ve talked to an… actual friend in a while you know? I’m back in contact with my brothers, and Diana came to visit. But I haven’t reconnected with any of the old crowd and I don’t really want to talk to my brothers about my relationship, you know?”

“No, I mean, Ya I get it, and no worries. We really should meet up for that drink, and maybe it’d actually be best if it’s just me and you first time? That way we can catch up and you can tell me all about your worries. Maybe I’ll even give You a shovel talk, stand in for whoever would have done it for him if they got the chance? But I was talking about him being able to beat up god.”

Jason let out a bark of a laugh, he’d forgotten Danny’s powers weren’t out in the open yet.“Ya, he’s powerful as hell, he just doesn’t use them much because it wouldn’t be fair to the rest of us.” Jason agreed, nodding even though Roy couldn’t see him. “Meeting alone first sounds like a good plan. I’ll get the Birds of Prey to kidnap him for the evening, Harley and Pam absolutely adore him, and not just cause he killed Joker.”

“I’m sure they do,” Roy said a bit absently. “Hey, Jay?”

“Ya?”

“I really missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

#dc x dp #danny phantom #jason todd #dead on main #fanfiction #Hyena!Danny AU #wonderwoman #diana prince #nightwing #dick grayson #red hood #roy harper #dc arsenal #multi part fic

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coco-loco-nut · 5 months ago

Text

Book Club - Part 10

pairing: do you even need to know anymore 😂

summary: Checo needs a night out, which means you are babysitting

a/n: thanks for the request 🫶, sorry it took so long, I truly have been slammed with work.

masterlist

———————

“Thanks again,” Checo says when he stands at your Monaco apartment door with his four kids.

“No problem, we weren’t planning on going out anyway. Partying gets tiring,” you smile, stepping aside so the four can run in and find Lance.

Despite his retirement, Checo decided to take a family vacation to the Monaco GP, and when he was invited out with the drivers, you stepped in to babysit. How hard could it be?

“They’ve had their dinner, you just need to entertain them before bedtime, we will pick them up after breakfast. Good luck,” Checo says and starts walking towards the elevator.

“Good luck? What do you mean ‘good luck’? Checo? Checo!” you call after the Mexican as he smirks, watching you panic as the elevator doors close. You close and lock the front door, sighing in defeat. Lance is sitting on the floor with the four kids surrounding him, looking more than content.

“So, uh, do you like jazz?” you awkwardly ask, sitting on the couch. Lance stifles a laugh, looking at you with amused eyes.

“Jazz? I thought you would be better with kids that aren’t your siblings,” Lance says, amused at how uncomfortable you seem. To be fair, you were really looking forward to cuddling up in bed and watching a 2000s romcom with your husband after the race, it was all you had talked about last week.

“Lancie,” you frown, he reaches out to you and squeezes your hand, silently telling you he will take the lead. You slide onto the ground with them, trying your best to keep up with their games.

Lance is a natural. You’d probably be envious if it wasn’t giving you baby fever.

“Do you guys want to watch a movie?” Lance asks the four kids who are currently playing with you.

“Si!” Checo Junior says. They pile onto the loveseat beside your couch as Lance pulls out some blankets and pillows.

“I’ll get some snacks,” you say softly, padding out to the kitchen where you fill a bowl with premade popcorn. You would microwave some but you ate it as a midnight snack the other day. By the time you get back, Lance has them all cozy on the loveseat, a movie cued, and is waiting for you on the couch with a fuzzy blanket. You swear your heart explodes.

You can’t say that you pay too much attention to the movie, seeing as how you are asleep on Lance’s chest halfway through the movie. He looks at the similar scene beside the two of you, the only difference being that all four kids are asleep. Lance gently slides out from under you and carries the kids one by one to the bedroom you had excitedly put together when Checo called.

“Come on, baby, time for bed,” Lance gently wakes you up as he turns off the tv.

“Shoot, did you put them to bed by yourself, I would’ve helped. You go to bed, I’ll clean up,” you panic, looking around the living room. Lance already cleaned up.

“It’s okay, I know the race took more out of you than it did me. Let’s just go to bed,” Lance presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay,” you murmur, standing up, feeling everything stretch out. Lance turns the last few lights off before picking you up and carrying you to bed. You look like a koala as you hold him, chest to chest, your head on his shoulder. After getting ready for bed, it doesn’t take you long to fall asleep.

Your alarm wakes you and Lance up early. Normally this would be for your morning run, but there are four kids who are currently relying on you.

“Come hop in the shower with me,” Lance grabs your hand as you stand in front of your closet.

“Lance, there are kids in the next room over,” you blush looking at the door.

“You won’t be saying that when we have kids of our own, plus, it’s just a quick shower. Get your mind out of the gutter,” he teases you and you shake your head.

“I’m going to train after Checo comes and picks them up, you go shower,” you tell him, finding the hoodie of his that you like to steal.

While Lance showers, you make a pot of coffee and sit out on your balcony, overlooking the ocean. As you sip your coffee, you don’t realize Lance is in the kitchen starting breakfast.

You freeze in the doorway, staring at your shirtless husband, whose sweatpants rest low on his hips.

“Hungry?” Lance asks, waving at the food already done.

“No, well yes, but I’m happy with my girl breakfast,” your eyes rake his body. Lance blushes and pulls a t-shirt on, you drool as his muscles flex. “Why’d you do that?” you pout as your girl breakfast was covered up.

“There will be plenty of time to stare once our charges are fed and taken back by their parents, why don’t you go wake them up?” Lance chuckles, amused at your irritation. He’s just glad he still does it for you all these years later. A few minutes later you rejoin him in the kitchen, four sets of little feet following you.

“Up you go,” you lift each kid into their seat at the table. As you set out place settings, Lance brings over the food. He notices how careful you are around them, and for a moment he let’s himself imagine that it is you with your future kids. Maybe he will have a copycat son that has your personality, or a daughter that takes the best from both of you and is a perfect blend, or maybe the kid will look exactly like you but will be a little awkward like he is.

Breakfast goes smoothly, and Checo arrives earlier than expected.

“They weren’t too much trouble, were they?” He asks Lance as you help the kids with their little bags.

“Not at all, perfect angels,” Lance tells Checo, his eyes not leaving you.

“I’ll see you, or I guess hear you, at the next meeting,” you hug the Mexican ex-driver goodbye.

“So, wanna start practicing?” Lance wiggles his eyebrows, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as he makes his way to the bedroom.

“Lance!”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 grid #f1 grid x reader #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll #checo perez #sergio perez #sergio checo perez #book club #baby fever

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ari-cuno · 5 months ago

Text

Feelings are hard.

A quick Aim and Axel drabble

Tw: Angst, Post-Partum Depression (implied) , sickness

Axel belongs to me

Aim belongs to @zu-is-here

Anko was just an accident…a fluke. Certainly not an unwanted accident, just a little blip that wasn't planned.

Axel certainly hadn't planned on becoming a parent so soon out of all his siblings, especially his sisters, with their already blooming relationships. He was alone for the most part before this, the girl of his dreams having rejected him and leaving him in the pitiful ‘friendzone’ as they say. He'd never been the best at expressing his feelings to others besides his immediate family. It was hard to ask for help, or to show weakness, especially when so many people relied on him during harsh times his parents were gone.

…and then he found Aim.

Axel had wanted to explore how far he could go in his multiverse, despite the warnings from his mother about straying too far, thinning the borders between their world and those of an entirely different multiverse. Oras had done it before when she met alternate versions of important out codes and even when communicating with the voices, but he was…in search of someone.

His worst fear was he'd be long gone by then, time was strange between worlds afterall. Axel sort of was annoyed by his parents revealing his immortality so late. He'd remembered sensing a little spark so long ago in his childhood that stuck close to his heart for so many years.

Axel searched for what felt like forever, a grassy field before him with a tall, healthy apple tree in front of him. When all hopes seemed lost he hadn't noticed a much larger skeleton looking surprised a few feet away from him.

“...Can I help you?”

Axel laid his head on the soft cushion tiredly, although it did nothing to stop the constant aching sensation in his body.

…no one had told him being a parent could be so scary.

There were never any troubles with Anko. He'd appeared one day, only serving to complicate the relationship between Axel and the couch potato Aim had reserved himself to. He wasn't born by normal means, he'd just appeared one day, a happy little accident that was quickly accepted into the family.

But this was different.

The baby currently curled up in the bed in front of him wailing away hadn't been made like that.

Axel understood Aims' way of affection, he understood and respected that way in which he showed it. There had been a spark one day, and whether they thought of it or not, a decision was made. Axel had wanted more, he'd wanted love, he wanted to be someone worth loving…but also love others that way too.

…

“Shhh…” Axel tried to hush the suffering little girl gently, her soft cries making it hard for him to focus his own thoughts. It was hard being weak for so many months, the vulnerability was foreign to him, even with the support he was shown. And yet…things hadn't been okay.

He was scared, oh so scared. Eve, his beautiful daughter, their beautiful daughter… had been born sick.

She was sick, and they didn't know why. Her body and soul were weak, leaving her vulnerable and frail. Despite his powerful magic and blood…what could have gone wrong?

Axel tried so hard, he tried to give her whatever worked to ease her pain. It had been several weeks since her birth…and it had gotten worse. Nothing was working, she still coughed, cried, and the most he could do was hush her for but a brief moment. He'd left her older brother with his parents for the time being.

It would be scary if Anko saw one of his parents crying.

It made him feel weak and ugly, but the tears streamed down his face as he reached out, holding Eve's little hand with a gentle yet fierce grip. It was hard to resist the urge to make his crying vocal, but he choked back little sobs as he stared down at her. It wasn't fair. She didn't deserve to suffer so young. It was terrifying, he wasn't…wasn't sure how she would feel better- *if* she would feel better-

“...Axel?”

Axel took a deep breath, quickly trying to wipe his tears away and hide the stains left on the blanket below. “A-Aim… ?” He said, silently cursing himself for stuttering like a fool.

Aim was there, orange tinted goggles and the large body of a huggable man. Even through the goggles he could see the concern on the tallers face. “Everything okay? I heard her crying, but…” Aim paused, watching Axel desperately trying to recompose himself.

“...Were you crying-”

He was going to hate himself for this later.

Axel practically fell into the man he loved for most of his life. He buried himself in his taller frame, unable to stop the cries from coming out. He needed this…

Aim was momentarily stunned as Axel sobbed, weeks of pure exhaustion, worry, and fear crashing down on him in an instant.

“I'm sorry…” Axel apologized quietly, trying to calm himself down. “She's not getting better…I don't know what to do…”

There was a heavy silence.

“I'm scared…I can't do this alone…” Axel finally confessed, “...I need you. I want to be more with you…“ he whispered in a slight pleading tone.

“I love you...”

#undertale au #utmv #sanscest #oc #ari writing #aim!sans #axel #anything is not canon unless Zu says so ^^#i love the angst opportunity with poor eve #eve

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holllandtrash · 2 years ago

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6 to 1 | lando norris (part 11)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 11 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

dinner with charles and the rest of your family comes with high expectations and heavy disappointments. one thing's for certain, lando's not going anywhere and neither are you

word count: 7.2k tags/warnings: implied smut, literally the worst translated french ever if someone wants to fix it by all means pls help me out, some sad tugs on the heart strings, i think thats it, also poorly edited

There were two sides to Lando Norris.

You already knew of the sweet and considerate side. The one that opened car doors for you, that took care of you even though you never asked to be cared for. This was the side of Lando that you fell hard for because he was all heart and cheeky grins and stupid eye rolls that had you blushing.

And then there was the side that you didn’t even know existed until you woke up to him leaving a trail of kisses down your body before slowly spreading your legs apart. The side that had you seeing stars and screaming his name before you could even register being awake.

Lando was insatiable, to put it simply.

And you weren’t complaining.

How could you complain when he joined you in the shower and pressed his lips to your neck as he pinned you against the porcelain wall. Your cheek against the cold tile, the stream of hot water coming down from above, his cock so deep inside you that you relied on him to keep you upright.

Yeah, you couldn’t complain.

Lando seemed to be on a mission to make you cum more times in twelve hours than you had in the last two years. He got so much pleasure from bringing you to the edge and watching as you spilled over.

You made sure to return the favour. Not even waiting until you were out of the bathroom before dropping down to your knees. Lando has one hand on the edge of the sink, the other hand tangled through your hair. Strings of expletives meshed so well with his encouraging words, telling you how fucking pretty you looked choking on his cock.

And honestly, that first shower was a write-off. You eventually needed to push Lando out of the bathroom to give you the chance to actually get ready for the day.

It was hard for the two of you to keep your hands off each other and to be fair, you didn’t really try. Sure, you put on a show, but ten minutes in and you were by far more entertaining than whatever rom-com you had chosen.

The day got away from you, to say the least.

It wasn’t until Lando asked you what you wanted for dinner did you suddenly bolt upright on the couch, reaching for your phone to check the time.

Lando, who had his hand on the handle of the fridge, slowly backed away from it as he tried to gauge what was going through your head, “Okay, or we could order something?”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” you stood up as you rushed to answer Arthurs text. He was already at your maman’s place and you couldn’t multitask to save your life so you didn’t even try to explain yourself to Lando until you sent Pascale a text saying that you had accidentally fallen asleep and are headed there now. It was a lie, but it was better than the alternative which would undoubtedly give her a heart attack.

“What’s up?” Lando asked, heading back towards you, eyeing your phone.

You dragged your fingers through your hair, “I forgot I promised to go to my maman’s house for dinner.” You turned and headed down the hall, “I need to change..can you- I don’t have any clothes here do I?”

Lando followed you, picking up the mini skirt you abandoned last night and the top that could have quite literally doubled as a bra. All day you had been lounging around in Lando’s clothes, having completely forgotten about your dinner plans.

“Just you and your mum?” Lando asked, he stepped into his closet but there was no way he had anything that was appropriate for dinner.

“Um, and Arthur and Enzo,” you added quietly, finding a brush on top of his dresser and running it through your hair. You kept Charles’ name out of your mouth, not feeling up to bringing him into the conversation.

Lando stepped back into his room, eyebrows raised at your frantic actions, “Did you want me to drive you? We can stop at your place on the way so you can change.”

You didn’t just want him to drive you, you wanted him to join you. But to throw this on him so last second wasn’t fair.

You accepted the ride to dinner, but you kept the invite to yourself.

Lando waited in the car as you ran in and changed, making yourself more presentable. It took under five minutes to put something appropriate on and get rid of any signs that you and Lando had been nothing but tangled limbs and heated kisses and desperate moans for the last 12 hours.

You were thankful that Lando was careful. Any marks that bruised your skin overnight weren’t visible to anyone other than you two. Some were darker than others, but you didn’t let yourself think of Lando’s lips exploring every inch of you, not while he was currently idling outside and waiting for your return.

When you slid back into the passenger seat, Lando waited before putting the car into drive. He nodded his head towards the phone that rested on the dash, your phone, that you had left while you ran inside.

Not only that, but you left it unlocked.

You had nothing to hide, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was Arthur had texted you twice since you stepped out of the car.

Charles is here btw, seems to be in a fine mood Are you bringing Lando?

When you looked up at Lando, he just had a smug little smile on his face. He wasn’t mad that you hadn’t invited him to dinner, nor was he upset that Charles was there after you purposely avoided saying his name.

“You told your brother about me?” Lando asked, finding the whole thing endearing. It was one thing if the drivers knew you were together, telling your family was entirely different.

“To an extent,” you shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “He knows we’ve been hanging out. I think a lot of people do.”

“Hanging out,” Lando repeated, mocking the naive term.

“Well maybe if you asked me out I could tell him you’re my boyfriend.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so picky about me planning a grand gesture,” Lando flipped the sarcasm on you and you playfully pressed your hand to his cheek, pushing his face away from yours.

“I deserve a grand gesture,” you told him.

Lando nodded in agreement, “But nothing embarrassing?”

“Nothing embarrassing.”

“Anything for the Littlest Leclerc.”

You positioned yourself on the seat so your upper half was practically leaning over the centre console. Lando’s smile had yet to vanish as his gaze darted to every inch of your face, landing on your lips before he glanced up to meet your eyes.

Out of nowhere, you felt giddy. You felt the excitement of butterflies in your stomach. You looked at Lando and suddenly you wanted him to come to dinner. You wanted your mother to see him as someone other than a driver. You wanted him to get to know your other brothers. You wanted to introduce him to the part of your life that no one had ever seen before.

“Come with me,” your quiet request echoed through the car. “To dinner.”

Lando’s eyebrows raised in response. He wasn’t against the idea, but he wasn’t tripping over his words to agree either.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “You don’t think it’s too soon to meet your family?”

“Well you’ve already met my mother,” you pointed out, thinking of the few times they had interacted during race weekends.

Lando rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before smiling. Your nose nudged against his and again, those butterflies returned.

“I want you there,” you said.

“Then I want to be there.”

Two sides to Lando.

And this was the side you were falling incredibly hard for. The side that made you want to show him off to everyone you knew. The side that made you forget why you were nervous to see Charles in the first place.

Lando kissed you once more before he pulled his eyes to the road. You sat back in your seat and your hand stayed connected with his for the remainder of the drive.

——————

You opened the door to your maman’s place, reaching for Lando’s hand as you stepped inside. There was no one in the general area, but you could hear voices flooding in through the balcony. With it being such a beautiful day, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that everyone was already outside.

Lando was looking around, undoubtedly feeling very out of his element as he stood in the childhood home of another driver. His eyes landed on some old photos and his usual bubbly personality was replaced with solemn and an expression so tense that it had you feeling uneasy in your mother’s own home.

“Hey,” you whispered, squeezing his hand as you stepped closer to him and the wall that held a variety of memories in frames. Lando nodded, acknowledging that he heard you, but his eyes were locked on a specific photo.

It was Charles in a kart, probably about ten years old at the time. Next to him knelt Jules, the biggest smile on his face.

Lando pointed at the young girl balancing on Jules’ knee, a bright red toy car between her fingers. His gaze then turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“I was about five years old, I think,” you said, trying to think back to when exactly that picture was taken. You leaned your head against Lando’s arm as images of your childhood rushed back to you. Some were pure memories that belonged to, others were flashes of stories you had heard that your mind had tricked you into thinking you remembered.

But this day, you remembered.

“I wanted to race too,” a breath of laughter followed that admittance. “Or at least I thought I did. Jules would have never actually let me drive that thing, I was too young, but he put me in and I remember getting so scared. I kept thinking it would start and just take off and it was instant tears for me.”

Lando nudged your side, “Your dreams of being a driver were short lived.”

“Very much so,” you laughed. You tapped your finger against the mini you behind the glass. “Jules gave me a toy Ferrari to keep me distracted and it worked for the most part. But when Charles got in the kart I got scared for him. Jules had to hold me the entire time he was going around the track, assuring me that Charles was safe, that he-”

Lando noticed the way your voice caught in your throat. He slipped his hand out of yours to drape his arm around your shoulders instead, pulling you into his side so he could kiss your forehead.

You told yourself you were fine. You were fine, this was a happy memory, it was a good day. It was just one you hadn’t thought about in a while.

Lando didn’t want you to sit in your thoughts. He propped his finger under your chin, tilting your face up, “Do you think a toy Ferrari would still work to distract you?”

The corner of your lips curled upwards and you rolled your eyes at his attempt at bringing some humour into this conversation.

“No, but maybe a real Ferrari would.”

“Yeah I’m not buying you a Ferrari,” Lando scoffed, turning you both around and away from the photo wall. You glanced at it over your shoulder once more, but when the sliding door to the balcony opened, the pictures were yet again just a memory.

You stepped out of Lando’s embrace when Pascale looked up and saw you. A grin spread across her cheeks and she was quick to put down the bottle of wine in her hands. You practically hopped across the kitchen floor to give her a hug, rocking side to side in her tight embrace.

“Bonjour, maman,” you sighed happily. It had been a few weeks since you had actually spent time with her. When you pulled back she started asking you about the wedding you attended, about London, about what you’ve been up to, but of course she was speaking in French. Lando, who stood quietly behind you, had absolutely no idea what was being said.

“Attends, maman,” Wait mom. You said, cutting her off before this conversation could go further. You glanced at Lando and ushered him over with just a head nod. “C’est Lando.” This is Lando.

Pascale looked at you like you were missing a few brain cells and honestly, you sort of felt like you were. Obviously she knew who Lando was. The question was what was he doing in her home.

“Chérie, je sais qui c'est.” Sweetheart, I know who he is.

Your maman knew Lando as a driver. Someone from a rival team, someone that Charles competed against. She probably didn’t think much of it that he was there, it wasn’t uncommon for Charles to invite another driver or two to a get-together.

But when you reached for Lando’s hand and pulled him closer to you, Pascale’s eyes lit up. There was a faint gasp of surprise, but it was her heartwarming smile of approval that lifted the weight off your shoulders.

You had never brought someone home before, someone that you wanted to introduce to your family. And even though Lando didn’t need any introduction, it was clear that he wasn’t just a driver. Your fingers intertwined with his and your cheeks turned a light shade of pink when Pascale pointed between the two of you.

As your mother, she wanted nothing but happiness for you. She didn’t care that Lando was a Formula 1 driver, all she saw was you clinging to a guy, something that she’s never seen before. There was an obvious connection, one that you hadn’t let yourself have before and Pascale could see that.

“I hope it’s okay that I invited him,” your voice was timid as you glanced towards the patio doors. All of your brothers were out there, none of them had noticed you yet.

“Of course!” she cheered, reaching forward to squeeze Lando’s arm lovingly. “Vous ne parlez pas le Français?”

“No,” you answered for him, feeling Lando tense up beside you as he tried to figure out what he was just asked. “No, he doesn’t speak French.”

“Oh that is not a problem,” Pascale brushed the language aside. She wanted to make Lando feel comfortable in her home, which was just another breath of fresh air for you. At least your maman was supportive, she would be inclusive towards Lando tonight.

Your brothers were another story.

The patio door slid open again and this time it was Enzo and Arthur who walked in. They greeted you from across the room, both in French, but their ‘bonjours’ and ‘ca va’s’ were cut off when they recognised Lando.

“C'est nouveau,” This is new. Enzo teased, his finger darting back and forth between you and Lando as he poured himself a glass of wine.

Arthur glanced out to the patio where Charles remained, “Tu ne lui a pas dit a propos de Lando, pas vrai?” You didn’t tell him about Lando, did you?

Poor Lando, just staring at you waiting for a translation or for you to answer on his behalf. He genuinely couldn’t tell what your brothers were saying, but he hoped it wasn’t anything negative.

“English, boys,” Pascale clapped her hands together as she moved to stand between Arthur and Enzo. She wrapped her arms around both of them, squeezing gently as she smiled back at you and Lando. Both sons had quite a few inches on her but they let her pull them into her sides without any sort of fight. “Lando does not speak French. We will be good hosts, yes?”

“C’est lui qui vit à Monaco,” He’s the one who lives in Monaco. Enzo snorted, earning a smack upside the head from your maman. He held his hand up in defence, palm facing Lando, “Sorry, mate.”

“All good,” Lando chuckled, shaking his head. He didn’t want to put anyone out of place, but Pascale was notorious for making sure her guests were comfortable and respected. If that meant she had to learn another language, she probably would without question.

“Lando, wine?” She offered, grabbing an empty glass from the cupboard.

“Oh he’s not a wine drinker and-” you spoke up, inhaling a sharp breath through your teeth. You glanced up at Lando, “-and I don’t know why I’m speaking for you. You have a voice.”

Lando gave your hand a squeeze, but he didn’t seem offended that you answered on his behalf. If anything, he was a little surprised that you remembered that little detail about him.

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge,” Pascale told him, still pouring a glass for you knowing that you sure as hell wouldn’t turn down wine. She had just stepped around the kitchen island to hand it to you when the patio door opened for the third time.

Charles didn’t even look at you. His eyes immediately went to Lando.

Lando waved awkwardly, “Hey, Charles.”

Completely disregarding him, he turned to Pascale, “Ce devait être un dîner de famille." It was supposed to be a family dinner.

Lando leaned towards you and whispered, “What did he say?”

You shook your head, he didn’t need to know that Charles was already choosing to let this evening turn sour. “Tu peux être poli au moins.” You can at least be polite. You told Charles, only to be met with an eye roll in response.

“So the eye rolls run in the family?” Lando asked.

“Can you just-” you turned to him suddenly, but stopped yourself from being unintentionally rude. Lando was just trying to make a joke, that’s what he did in any given situation. It wasn’t his fault that Charles’ bad attitude was now affecting how you were acting. You placed your hand on his chest, playing with the string of his jumper, “Let’s go outside, yeah?”

Charles turned around as well but Pascale was quick to jab her finger against her son's chest before he could go anywhere, “Behave, Charles.”

It was a warning that held very little merit. Charles would mutter something under his breath in French about how Lando wasn’t actually invited as the group of you all made your way outside. Pascale stayed inside to finish up dinner and you offered to help but one look from her and you both knew you’d be needed outside with the men boys.

The patio was large. The outdoor couch shaped like an ‘L’ was spacious enough to fit all five of you comfortably. But Charles still opted for one of the chairs, resting his leg over the other as he leaned back and watched as Lando made himself comfortable on the patio furniture, or at least tried to.

The second that Lando put his hand on your thigh, Charles’ eyebrows twitched and Lando retracted his hand, leaving it in his own lap.

This was awkward for everyone.

Well, maybe not so much Arthur and Enzo whose heads were moving back and forth between you like they were watching a tennis match, just waiting to see what sort of moves any of you would make.

You hadn't spoken to Charles since you left Silverstone. You weren’t there for him when he DNF’d near the end of the race. You weren’t there to tell him that he still had plenty of chances left this season to do work his way up the standings.

Now was as good a time as any to bring it up, clear the air.

“I’m sorry about your retirement last weekend,” you said, feeling unusually timid. Charles wasn’t someone who you often felt small around. You looked up to him, sure, but you never felt the need to be careful around him, until now.

Charles sighed loudly, “Is this you taking responsibility for it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hmm,” Charles scratched the stubble that grew along his jaw. “You don’t think everything you told me minutes before I had to get in the car affected my race at all?”

Nevermind, you weren’t shy to speak what was on your mind. You were annoyed.

“You don’t think leaving your personal life outside the track is something you should probably do?” You retorted, with even more sarcasm than his tone carried. “I mean, you’ve done it before. Weren’t you the one who broke up with Cha literally days before a race weekend and still went on to get a podium?”

“That was different.”

“You’re right,” you scoffed, leaning back against the cushions as you crossed your arms over your chest. “You brought my life onto the track with you in Silverstone. I never asked you to do that.”

To your right, Arthur nudged your side, “Take it easy, Y/N.”

Charles moved on from the topic of the race as his glare narrowed in on Lando. “Vous êtes ensemble, c'est ça?” So, you two are dating?

Lando looked at you, hoping you would, again, either translate or answer for him.

“You know he doesn’t speak French.”

“Toute la famille parle Français,” This whole family speaks french. Charles leaned forward, “You’re just going to show up at my mother’s house and demand everyone speak English for your convenience?”

Lando rapidly shook his head, “That didn’t-”

You promptly cut him off, “Don’t be an ass for the sake of just being an ass, Charles.”

“Mate I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Lando chimed in. His hand went to your leg again and even when Charles eyed the point of contact with disapproval, Lando didn’t move it. “I just like hanging out with your sister. And for some reason she likes hanging out with me too.”

There was that term again. Hanging out. But this time when he said it, you knew Lando was only trying to downplay everything for Charles’ sake. Charles didn’t need to know any of the details of your relationship, he just needed to get it through his head that you were together.

The patio door opened and Pascale came out, holding the glass of wine you had forgotten to grab. You thanked her kindly and without exchanging a word, the mother-daughter bond you shared spoke volumes when you sent a glance across the patio towards Charles.

Pascale tsk’d, shaking her head at the Formula 1 driver, “I said behave, Charles.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Charles retorted. “He’s the one that shows up invited.”

“I invited him,” you snapped.

Enzo leaned forward, directing his attention to Lando to try and steer this conversation elsewhere. He started asking the Brit about his family and Arthur gave you an encouraging nod. Maybe tonight just started off wrong, it had potential to get better.

But of course those were high expectations.

Dinner was horrible.

The glares sent across the table towards you and Lando were impossible to ignore. Charles purposely spoke French and even though Pascale reminded him four times that Lando didn’t understand, Charles only responded that it wasn't his problem.

He was being uncharacteristically rude, and Charles’ reputation was that he was one of the nicest drivers on the grid. That was a reputation you agreed with, up until now.

He was trying to make Lando uncomfortable, trying to find any reason to exclude him, ensuring that Lando knew he didn’t approve of your relationship.

You tried to ignore it, really. You were there to talk to your maman, to catch up with Enzo, to introduce Lando to everyone else in the family.

But eventually you just grew tired of biting your tongue for the sake of keeping the peace.

“You’re insufferable, do you realise that?” You finally blurted out. Arthur and Enzo stifled their laughter and next to you, Lando dropped his hand to your leg. He had been respectful all dinner, keeping his hands on the table where everyone could see, but he knew that you needed the support in the form of a comforting squeeze.

“Big words for the person who pays for all of your trips. There's nothing insufferable about the private jets from Monaco to Spain to London, are there?" Charles barely looked up from his food, shoving his fork into his mouth and letting his words sink in.

“Oh you’ve been waiting to use that line haven’t you?”

Charles ignored you, glancing towards Lando, “You’ve got her trips covered now, yeah?”

“Charles,” Pascale warned. She had stayed quiet for the most part, not wanting to get involved, trying to believe that it was just siblings being siblings.

But it was so much more than that.

“I don’t know why you think I’m so reliant on you, but I can assure you, I’m not,” you shot back, not giving Lando a chance to share his two cents. “But if I was really struggling, there’s about six other drivers on the grid I can call up to help me out. We all know they love my presence in the paddock more than yours.”

Again, Charles chose to ignore you. His stare remained on Lando, “You’re really going to let her talk about the other drivers right in front of you?”

You slammed your hand on the table, demanding that he give you his attention for once. Charles didn’t flinch, but everyone else did. Charles just leaned back in his chair, arrogance painted his face.

“Pourquoi ça te dérange tant que je sois avec lui?” Why do you care so much that I’m with him?

“Pourquoi tu es avec lui? C'est ça la question.” Why are you with him? That’s the question.

You and Charles continued to raise your voices at each other across the table in French, saying anything and everything that came to mind, anything and everything that could hurt the other. Your brothers understood everything, your mother was waiting to see if she needed to intervene, and Lando had absolutely no idea what was happening, he didn’t speak French.

But he understood some phrases.

“Va te faire enculer!” You practically screamed. Go fuck yourself.

Lando was taken aback and he turned to you with wide eyes. You would have loved to excuse yourself from the table at this point, to take Lando and go back to his place, but your mother wasn’t about to let either of you get away with the bullshit that’s been happening all night.

Pascale snapped her fingers, calling for the attention of everyone in the room, but her gaze darted back and forth between you and Charles only. She pointed at you and then at him and then at the kitchen, “Dinner’s over. Both of you, you’re on clean up.”

It wasn’t uncommon in your youth for Pascale to split the household chores between the kids. She had four of them and like any typical mother, she taught her kids the importance of cleaning and pitching in around the house.

But you didn’t even live there anymore.

You would have volunteered to help regardless, but the fact that she was assigning you and Charles to dish duty now that you had finished eating was a telling sign that the two of you needed to work your shit out.

Pascale pushed her chair away from the table and nodded towards the living room as her glare directed at her kids shifted to a warm gaze at Lando, “Come on, Lando, I’ve always wanted to show off baby pictures of Y/N. It’s a right of passage as her mother.”

“Maman, don’t, please,” you pleaded, but it was too late. Lando had practically jumped out of the chair and followed Pascale to the couch.

Arthur and Enzo stood up as well, they didn’t have any interest in reliving your childhood through the photo albums, but they also didn’t want to hang out in the kitchen and be uninvited witnesses to whatever you and Charles were undoubtedly going to argue about.

You stood up from your chair, collecting a few dishes from the table, “I wash, you dry.”

“You always wash.”

“Because everytime you wash you end up breaking plates in the sink and then it becomes a bigger mess for everyone.”

Charles had no comeback for that, he really couldn’t argue with facts. So reluctantly, he found himself standing elbow to elbow with you as you handed him the clean plates for him to dry and put away.

Neither of you said a word.

Which was not Pascale’s intention.

Hearing laughter behind you, you both glanced over your shoulders, catching each other's eyes momentarily before you stepped away from the sink to clear off some more dishes from the table.

Your back was towards Charles when you looked up and saw Lando making his way towards you, a small wallet sized insert photo of you between his thumb and forefinger. You were maybe seven years old there, missing one of your front teeth just in time for picture day at school.

“This is adorable,” Lando told you, “Your mum said I can keep it.”

“You absolutely will not,” you rolled your eyes, stacking the glasses on top of each other.

“You were such a cute kid,” Lando cooed, looking at the picture again. You already knew the question that was going to follow when he turned back towards you, “What happened?”

“Ha ha,” you mocked, flipping your middle finger up at him.

Behind you, Charles cleared his throat. You turned and saw him standing with his back leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest with the empty drying rack behind him.

“We can go after I finish cleaning,” you told Lando, sounding apologetic on behalf of how Charles had been treating him all night.

Lando felt bad. He didn’t want you to rush out of there because Charles was making this uncomfortable for everyone. He liked getting to know Pascale and your brothers a bit better. Enzo and Arthur didn’t have a problem with Lando’s presence.

It was just Charles.

“Why?” Lando asked, raising his voice slightly even though this was supposed to be more of a private conversation. He wanted Charles to hear. “I’ve got no plans tonight. We can stay as long as you want. Unless-” Lando looked over your shoulder towards Charles. “Do you want us to leave?”

“I want you to leave,” Charles mumbled and you all but slammed the glasses back on the dining room table as you turned around to face your asshole of a brother.

“Okay, you know what?” you inhaled a heavy breath, hands clamming up in seconds as you suddenly felt very confined within the kitchen. “I have been nothing but supportive of you for your entire career. Is it possible, that for once, to just take a step back and be supportive of me?”

“Supportive of what?” Charles scoffed, gesturing towards Lando. “That you’re dating him? That’s not something I need to be supportive of. It’s not an achievement or a career, Y/N, you haven’t done anything! You slept with a driver, congratulations! Should I call up Pierre and Carlos and invite them over as well? Make it a whole affair?”

You weren’t sure when Lando stepped around the table to stand at your side but you’re thankful he did. He was there to put a loving hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb over your skin as Charles’ words hit you hard. It felt like someone was pressing all of their weight against your chest and you struggled to find your words as much as you fought to take a breath.

You could have screamed at him. You wanted to.

Your brother couldn’t separate you, his sister, from you, his biggest fan. To him, those two things were supposed to coincide.

And for so long, they did.

But that wasn’t the case anymore.

“Okay,” you finally breathed out, voice trembling along with your hands. You were going to pretend like Charles’ words didn’t hurt you and you were going to remove yourself from this conversation before it could take any more difficult turns, before this got uglier. You looked up at Lando, “We’re leaving.”

This was when Pascale interjected again. She stood up from the couch, the painful look of disappointment plastered all over her features.

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval, apologise to your sister.”

“All the middle names,” Arthur whispered, but unfortunately for him the room was deafeningly silent and everyone heard his little comment. He cowered back into the couch, hoping that if he just stared at Charles long enough, the attention would go back to him.

And it did. Charles shook his head, “I’m not apologising for anything.”

Charles was a lost cause. It was a battle you didn’t have the energy to fight any more tonight.

You reached for your maman, squeezing her hand before going in for a hug. She apologised, of course she did. The last thing she wanted was to see her kids fight.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” You told her and she nodded before moving in to give Lando a hug as well. She told him he was always welcome there when Lando thanked her for the dinner and for showing him the photo albums.

Lando said goodbye to Arthur and Enzo and then reached for your hand, tugging you into his side as you walked out of the house. You waved at Pascale as you made your way towards the car and you could see her expression shift into a glare as she turned around to give Charles a stern talking to before the door fully shut.

Like usual, Lando reached for the passenger door to open it for you, but he stopped you before you could get in by pulling you into his chest.

“Hey,” he whispered, his other hand finding your cheek to tilt your face up to meet his. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

A deep exhale passed through your lips, “You are the last person who should be apologising.”

“Yeah, well, the person who should be apologising isn’t going to,” Lando scoffed. “But you still deserve to hear it.”

Lando kissed your forehead, and then the tip of your nose and when you tilted your chin up just a little more, he pressed a final kiss to your lips before stepping back to let you get into the car.

He slid into the drivers side and had just started to reach for his seatbelt before he let it retract above his shoulder.

“I left my wallet inside, I’ll be right back,” Leando leaned over to give you a kiss on the cheek, opening up the car door again.

“I can go in and get it,” you offered, not wanting to have to subject Lando to Charles again.

“I’ll be two seconds, it’s fine.” He assured you, not leaving any room for discussion. He made his way up the walkway and you watched from the confinement of his car as he rapped his knuckles against the door.

It was Pascale who answered, obviously. She didn’t seem surprised to see Lando, moreso thankful if anything.

“Lando, I’m so sorry,” Pascale said to him again, reaching for his arm to give it a squeeze. Pascale was a very touchy person, Lando came to realise, and you were cautious when it came to physical attention. Lando wondered where your closed off tendencies came from. He also wondered when that shift came between you two when you started to lean into his touches and being the one to reach for his hand first.

“You really have nothing to apologise for,” Lando said, his typical grin making another reappearance. He wasn’t going to let Pascale take responsibility for her son’s actions. He also wasn’t going to let it get to him the way Charles intended.

She invited him inside, asking if he left anything and he told you that he did. But once inside, Charles shook his head and glanced around, “I actually just wanted to get a few more words with Charles quickly.”

Pascale nodded knowingly and pointed towards the balcony. Arthur sent him a smile that could have either read good luck or be careful, but Lando didn’t let himself think too much of it as he crossed the floor and slid the patio door open.

Charles glanced up from his phone and rolled his eyes when he saw who had joined him.

Lando much preferred your eye rolls. They were usually playful and teasing. You were never actually annoyed with him. He didn’t see your eye rolls and think of all of the exit routes like he was doing now as he stepped outside.

Choosing to sit in the chair as opposed to joining Charles on the couch, Lando leaned forward and clasped his hands together atop of knees.

This was strange for both of them.

Lando and Charles were friends. They got along well most of the time. They respected each other as people, as drivers. It wasn’t until Lando became more involved with you did Charles start to see the British driver in a different light.

“You know I would never hurt her, right?” Lando started off by getting right to the point. The line that was drawn between them was you and Lando needed them both to be on the same side of this line, not vying for what they thought was best in their own opinions.

“She’s not thinking about the consequences, Lando,” Charles took him by surprise, not coming back with attitude or with a bitter rebuttal, but with a voice of reason. “She’s happy, sure, but have either of you thought about the media presence in the paddock? What people might say? How might this affect your performance and mine? Formula 1 is hard enough as it is, mate. Racing aside, there are so many external factors that neither of you are considering.”

Lando nodded, piecing together what Charles was getting at, but he wasn’t someone who was easily persuaded. It took Lando weeks to work his way into your life, he wasn’t about to throw any of it away because Charles was sending him an intimidating glare.

“Charles, she’s spent her whole life considering those things,” Lando spoke calmly.

You made it clear you didn’t want a fight and he had your back, not wanting to start an argument either.

“Her own life takes a backseat to support you, to be your biggest fan. She, for the most part, has stayed out of trouble, stayed out of the spotlight so you could shine, so there would be no tarnishing of the Leclerc name. She’s been there for you during the best and the worst of times. All she’s ever wanted was to see you succeed.” Lando shook his head, as he recalled one of your first conversations. “When I took her out in Montreal, she was the one that told me she doesn’t date drivers. That wasn’t a rule you had set for her, that was something she decided for herself. Her fears controlled her, she didn’t want to have to worry about you and someone else during a race-”

“What, so now she’s just going to worry about you?” Charles cut him off and Lando could sense that he was growing more agitated with each passing second.

“No, you idiot,” Lando had to tell himself to keep a straight face. “She’s not letting her fears control her anymore. She’s choosing to believe that what happens in the real world doesn’t affect what happens on the track. She doesn’t want to worry about either of us. She wants to cheer both of us on, and you’re selfishly putting her in a position where she has to choose.”

Lando pressed his palms against his legs and stood up from the chair, essentially ending the conversation there before Charles could think of something else to add, another reason as to why they shouldn’t date that would inevitably go in one ear and out the other.

When Lando reached for the handle of the patio door, he paused before sliding it open, “I’m not trying to take her from you, or from her family. I just want her to be happy and you should want that for her too."

“I do,” Charles agreed, but his words didn’t match the tone, like he was fighting with himself.

Lando wasn’t going to offer any suggestions as to how Charles could stop getting in the way. It wasn’t up to Lando to remind Charles what his place was in your life, that was for him to figure out on his own. Lando simply nodded at the Monegasque driver and walked back inside.

Pascale walked him to the front door, apologising one last time for her son's words and actions throughout the night, but Lando assured her that he still had a great time. She invited him back, telling Lando that she was happy to see her daughter look so at peace for once.

All while Lando was inside your mother’s home, you sat in his car, adjusting the air conditioning and the angle of the seat. You flipped the radio on, but at this time of night there were only remixes and horrible cookie-cutter pop songs that you just couldn’t stand.

You just wanted to distract yourself because Lando was taking a while. He said two seconds but you watched the digital clock on the screen slowly change and it had been at least two minutes since he shut the front door behind him.

You turned the radio off and opened up the glove box, hoping for an instruction manual on how to connect your phone to the bluetooth, but there was nothing in there. So you flipped open the middle compartment next.

There was no manual, but there was a wallet.

Of course you picked it up to confirm it was in fact Lando’s, but then that just left you with the question, why did he go back inside the house?

The light from the front foyer caught your eye and you glanced up to see your mother giving Lando a hug. Apparently he had made quite the impression on her tonight.

You dropped the wallet back inside the compartment and closed it right before Lando reached the car. He slid into the driver's seat and looked at you with his usual cheeky smile, the one that gave him those faint lines around his lips and caused his eyes to squint.

“Find it?” You asked.

Lando hesitated before nodding, “Yeah, was stuck in the couch cushions. Must have fallen out of my pocket.”

And you knew he was lying, but you didn’t question any further. Lando reached across the console to connect his hand with yours as he started to take off in the direction of his flat, jumping into a conversation about your baby photos and how sweet Pascale was, choosing to purposely disregard Charles and his behaviour.

Whatever reason Lando had to go back inside, you didn’t care to ask about it.

You trusted Lando. You knew Lando was someone who would take care of you, even if you didn’t ask for it. His motives, his words, his stupid plan to move up your driver ranking, all of it was pure at heart with nothing but good intentions.

He just wanted to be with you and in return, he hoped you would want to be with him as well.

And against all odds, you were going to make this work.

masterlist here (side note - part 12 (the next chapter) will be the final part)

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @tsarinablogs @noescapricho-essentimiento @f1mockingjay @xqueenslytherinx if i missed someone im so sorry

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callsigns-haze · 13 days ago

Text

You knew? Part 3 of 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader! Callsign Ace

Chapter Summary: A fierce rivalry between two Navy pilots, Ace and Rooster, turns into a deeper connection as they confront their fears, emotions, and unspoken feelings after a near-fatal incident forces them to rely on each other.

This chapter contains themes of emotional conflict, betrayal, and recovery from a near-death experience, mentions of inequality and anxiety. Expect tense dialogue and unresolved emotions

Two months had passed since Ace's crash, and the recovery process had been slow, gruelling, and at times, frustrating. After three weeks in the hospital, where she’d undergone multiple procedures and endured long days of observation, she had been released to start physical therapy. The last few weeks had been filled with rehab, regaining mobility and strength in her battered body. Her right wrist was still wrapped in a brace, a constant reminder of the crash, and a knee brace stabilized her leg. Three fingers on her left hand were splinted, but despite all that, tomorrow was the day she had been waiting for—her return to work.

Today, though, was about one last bit of self-care. Penny and Amelia had come over to help her wash her hair, a simple luxury she hadn’t been able to manage easily on her own in weeks. Now, they were gathered around the kitchen sink in Penny’s cozy house, sunlight streaming through the windows and casting a warm glow over the room.

Ace sat in a chair pulled up to the sink, her head tilted back as Penny worked the shampoo through her hair, fingers gentle but firm. Amelia stood nearby, holding a towel and chatting animatedly with her mother and Ace as she helped by handing Penny anything she needed.

“You're so lucky you get to go back to work tomorrow," Amelia said, her youthful energy spilling over into every word. “You must be excited.”

Ace smiled faintly, though the truth was, excitement wasn’t the only emotion swirling in her chest. "Excited? Yeah, sure. But also a little nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve flown, and I’m not exactly in perfect shape yet.” She wiggled her splinted fingers as if to emphasize the point.

Penny chuckled softly, rinsing out the shampoo with warm water. “Trust me, you’ll be fine. You’ve been working so hard to get back, and everyone at the base knows you’re tough as nails. Besides, you're just easing into things, right? No dogfights on your first day back.”

Ace sighed, the warm water soothing as it ran through her hair. “Yeah, I’m just doing some simulations and light training, nothing crazy. But you know how it is, there’s always that pressure to be perfect, especially with everyone watching.”

Penny glanced down at her, a reassuring smile on her face. “No one expects you to be perfect. Just take it slow. You’ve been through a lot, and you need to give yourself credit for how far you’ve come.”

Amelia nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, besides, with all that cool gear you’ve got—" she motioned to the wrist brace and knee brace with a playful grin, “—you look like a total superhero.”

Ace laughed, the sound bubbling up from her chest in a way that felt good. Light. “Oh yeah, I’m definitely rocking the superhero vibe.”

Penny finished rinsing the last of the shampoo from Ace’s hair and reached for the conditioner. “You’ll be back to your old self in no time. And it’s okay to ask for help when you need it. You’ve got people who care about you.”

Ace went quiet for a moment, thinking about those words. People who cared. She hadn’t made it easy for them, not with the way she had been avoiding Rooster, Hangman, and even Phoenix since the whole email mess. She’d kept her distance from the Dagger Squad, focusing on recovery and shutting out anything else. But Penny was right—she wasn’t alone.

“You’re right,” Ace said finally, her voice softer. “I guess I’ve just been too stubborn to realize it.”

Penny smiled knowingly as she worked the conditioner through Ace’s hair. “It’s okay to be stubborn sometimes. Just not when it keeps you from letting people in.”

Amelia chimed in again. “Yeah, like us! You know we’re here to help you with anything. Even something as simple as washing your hair.”

Ace smiled again, the warmth of their kindness washing over her like the water from the sink. “Thanks, shortstack. I really appreciate this. I didn’t think I’d miss something as small as having clean hair.”

Penny chuckled, gently massaging the conditioner into Ace’s scalp. “Sometimes it’s the little things that make the biggest difference, especially when you’re healing. You’ve earned a bit of pampering.”

Amelia handed Penny a comb, and she carefully started working through Ace’s damp hair. “And speaking of pampering, maybe you should take tomorrow easy. Just focus on getting back in the cockpit, not proving anything to anyone.”

Ace exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of that advice. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I don’t have to prove anything… except that I can still kick everyone’s ass when I’m fully healed.”

Amelia grinned, stepping closer with the towel. “That’s the spirit! Just make sure you wait until you’re totally ready. We don’t need another close call.”

The sun was barely rising as Ace pulled into the parking lot at the base, the familiar hum of engines and the sight of planes in the distance reminding her of how much she had missed this. Today was the day she would finally return to work, and despite the aches in her body and the braces she still wore, a part of her felt more alive than she had in months.

As she parked her car and grabbed her bag, she spotted a familiar figure waiting by the edge of the lot—tall, with a cocky grin already plastered on his face. Hangman. Her wingman. He waved at her, his ever-present confidence practically radiating from him.

Weeks ago, they had finally made amends after the email debacle. Despite his tendency to be a total douche, he had been the first to apologize, and Ace, knowing they were bound as wingmen, had accepted. Their relationship had always been complicated, but they’d grown closer after everything. He was still cocky and annoying, but he was her wingman, and that meant something.

As soon as she stepped out of the car, he called out to her. “Well, well, if it isn’t the bionic woman herself! Ready to fly again?”

Ace rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t start, Hangman. I’m barely back, and you’re already running your mouth.”

“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t,” he shot back, striding over to her with his easy, swaggering gait.

Before she could say anything more, Hangman’s arms were open, and in a rare display of softness, Ace ran into his hug. His arms wrapped around her tightly, and for a moment, she let herself relax into it. It felt good. Comforting, even.

“Missed you, Ace,” he said, his voice softer than usual as he held her close. “It wasn’t the same without you out there.”

She chuckled against his shoulder before pulling back slightly to look up at him. “Missed me or missed someone keeping you in line?”

“Both,” he admitted with a grin, his green eyes twinkling. “But mostly you.”

She rolled her eyes again, playfully shoving him back. “Alright, don’t get all sentimental on me. You’re still a douche.”

“And you’re still a pain in my ass, but I guess that’s why we work so well together,” he shot back, slinging an arm around her shoulders as they started walking toward the hangars.

The early morning air was crisp, and the base was already buzzing with activity as they walked, the sound of jets warming up in the background. Ace felt a sense of relief wash over her. This was her world—the adrenaline, the camaraderie, the sky. And as much as she liked to pretend she didn’t care, having Hangman by her side meant something. He wasn’t just a wingman in the air; he was one on the ground, too.

“So,” Hangman started, his arm still draped around her as they made their way toward the flight deck, “what’s the plan? You gonna take it easy, or are you back to kicking ass right away?”

Ace smirked, glancing up at him. “You know me. I never do anything halfway.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I figured as much. Just try not to break any more bones, alright?”

“Only if you keep your mouth in check,” she teased.

“Deal,” he said, grinning widely.

Rooster and Phoenix were sitting in the briefing room, catching up on the day’s assignments before the pilots gathered for the afternoon’s debrief. Rooster was flipping through a stack of paperwork, while Phoenix studied a training report, their conversation flowing easily between them.

“You know,” Phoenix began, glancing up from her report, “I saw Hangman and Ace talking in the parking lot this morning. It looked like they were actually... getting along.”

Rooster looked up, a skeptical eyebrow raised. “Hangman and Ace? Really? After everything that’s happened?”

“Yeah,” Phoenix replied with a nod. “I know it’s been a mess, but it seems like they finally patched things up. They were hugging and joking around. It’s good to see them talking, especially after how things went down.”

Rooster sighed, setting down his paperwork. “I suppose it’s good. Hangman’s an ass sometimes, but he’s still a part of the team. And Ace... well, she deserves to have things settled. It’s been rough for her.”

Phoenix nodded in agreement. “Definitely. I think it’s a step in the right direction. Everyone’s been a bit on edge, and having some harmony back will help. She’s been through enough already.”

Rooster leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. “Yeah. I guess it’s nice to see some normalcy returning. I just hope she’s ready for the workload. It’s not going to be a walk in the park.”

“True,” Phoenix said, “but I think she’s more than ready. She’s a tough one, after all.”

As Ace and Hangman walked into the hangar, their presence didn’t go unnoticed. The air was charged with anticipation as pilots from different squadrons looked up from their desks. The chatter in the hangar hushed, and one by one, the pilots began to stand up, clapping and cheering as Ace made her way through.

Ace’s cheeks flushed slightly at the unexpected reception, but she couldn’t hide her smile. The applause was a testament to how much she had been missed, and the camaraderie she had felt throughout her career was palpable. Hangman grinned at her, his usual cocky demeanour softened by a rare moment of genuine pride.

“Looks like they missed you,” Hangman said, his voice loud enough for her to hear over the clapping.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Ace replied, a mix of emotions crossing her face as she acknowledged the warm welcome. “It feels good to be back.”

As they continued to walk toward their desks, Cyclone approached them, his expression serious but not unfriendly. He was one of the senior officers, known for his no-nonsense attitude and his role in maintaining the high standards of the squadron.

“Ace,” Cyclone said, extending a hand. “Welcome back. I see you’ve made a full recovery.”

“Thanks, Cyclone,” Ace replied, shaking his hand firmly.

Cyclone’s gaze was steady as he regarded her. “There’s something we need to discuss, though. Before you get back into the thick of things, I need to give you the ‘getting shot’ talk.”

Ace’s smile faded slightly as she nodded, taking a step closer. Hangman, sensing the seriousness of the conversation, gave Ace a supportive pat on the back before stepping back to give them space.

Cyclone led her to a quieter corner of the hangar, away from the bustling activity. “Look, Ace,” he began, his tone serious but not harsh, “you’ve been through a lot. We’re all thrilled you’re back, but I need to remind you of the risks.”

Ace nodded, her face turning serious as she listened. “I understand, Cyclone.”

“The job isn’t forgiving,” Cyclone continued, “and while we’re all rooting for you, I need to make sure you’re aware of what you’re getting back into. Things might not always go as planned, and you need to be prepared for the worst-case scenarios.”

“I’m ready,” Ace said firmly. “I’ve been through a lot, and I’m ready to face whatever comes my way.”

Cyclone studied her for a moment, then nodded approvingly. “Good. I know you’ve got the skills and the determination. Just remember, even with everything you’ve been through, don’t push yourself beyond your limits. The squad needs you at your best, and that means taking care of yourself.”

“I will,” Ace promised. “I’m not planning to take unnecessary risks.”

Cyclone’s stern expression softened slightly as he clapped her on the shoulder. “Alright then. Just remember we’re all here for you. Now, go get settled in. We’ve got work to do.”

As Cyclone walked away, Ace returned to her desk, her heart warmed by the support she had received from her fellow pilots and the encouraging words from Cyclone. The applause and the talk had reinforced her resolve, reminding her that she was not just returning to work, but stepping back into a community that valued her.

Ace stepped into the break room, hoping to grab a quick coffee before the next round of meetings. She was grateful for a moment of peace after the overwhelming reception she had gotten that morning. The applause had been heart-warming, but she still wasn’t sure how to handle all the attention. Her wrist brace rubbed against her skin, a constant reminder that she wasn’t fully healed. The splints on her fingers made even small tasks feel clumsy, and the knee brace pulled with every step. She just wanted to get through the day without feeling like everyone was watching her every move.

As she filled her cup, she heard the door to the break room open and felt a familiar presence behind her. Rooster.

Ace stiffened, trying to focus on the sound of coffee pouring into the mug. She hadn’t spoken much to Rooster since the email incident months ago, and the tension between them had only grown. She’d made it her mission to avoid any serious confrontation, especially after everything that had happened. But now, in this small break room, there was no escape.

"Hey," Rooster's voice cut through the quiet, low and cautious.

Ace glanced over her shoulder, giving him a quick nod before turning back to her coffee. “Hey,” she mumbled, hoping to keep the exchange brief.

But Rooster’s eyes weren’t on her face. They were locked on her wrist brace, his gaze then traveling down to her splinted fingers, and finally her knee. She could feel his eyes on her, taking in every bit of evidence of her injuries.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice thick with concern.

Ace forced a small smile, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a few bumps and bruises.”

Rooster didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed, and the usual lightness in his eyes was replaced by something heavier. “Ace… you don’t have to act tough all the time.”

She bristled at that, her hand tightening around the mug. “I’m not acting tough. I am tough,” she shot back, a bit more sharply than she intended.

Rooster sighed, stepping a little closer. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I don’t get why you hate me so much.”

The words hit Ace like a punch to the gut. She froze, staring into the coffee as if it could give her the answer to what had been brewing inside her for so long. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel her walls starting to crack, but she wasn’t ready to go there. Not now. Not with him.

“I don’t hate you,” she said quietly, but the lie was thin.

Rooster shook his head, frustration creeping into his voice. “No, you do. You’ve hated me for years, Ace, and I don’t know why. Is it because of the email thing? Or is it something else?”

The dam inside her finally broke. She slammed her cup down on the counter, the sound loud and jarring in the small room. Her whole body tensed as she spun around to face him, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and pain.

“You want to know why?” she shouted, her voice cracking under the weight of years of pent-up frustration. “It’s because all my life, I’ve had to prove that I’m better than you! Every. Single. Time. I’ve had to fight tooth and nail just to be seen as your equal!”

Rooster blinked, taken aback by the intensity of her outburst, but she wasn’t done.

“You don’t get it, Bradley. You never had to. You walk into a room, and people respect you. You get the benefit of the doubt. But me? I have to prove myself every single time because I’m a woman. And it’s not enough to just be as good as you. I have to be better. I have to be perfect, because if I’m not, no one gives me a second look.”

Her voice was rising now, years of resentment spilling out like a flood she could no longer contain. “Every time you were just a few points behind me, you still got the job, the promotion, the respect. You got to fly, and I had to fight for every damn mission! And why? Because I wasn’t a man? Because no one believed I could be as good as you?”

Rooster stood frozen, his mouth slightly open, but the words wouldn’t come. He had never seen her like this—so raw, so exposed. The anger in her voice shook him to his core.

Ace was breathing heavily now, her hands trembling as she tried to keep it together. “Do you know what that feels like?” she continued, her voice breaking. “To have to prove over and over that you’re good enough? And even when I do, it’s still not enough! I almost died out there, Rooster. I almost didn’t make it, and no one would’ve cared because to them, I’m just a woman trying to play in the boys’ club!”

Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let herself break in front of him. Not completely.

Rooster finally found his voice, though it was hoarse and low. “Ace, I didn’t know… I didn’t realize it was like that for you.”

“Of course you didn’t,” she spat, her voice laced with bitterness. “You never had to think about it.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of her words hanging heavily between them. Rooster didn’t know what to say, how to fix the wound he hadn’t even realized existed. All he could do was stand there, staring at her as she stood on the edge of breaking down.

“I don’t hate you, Rooster,” Ace finally said, her voice quieter now, full of exhaustion. “But I hate how easy it is for you. And I hate that I have to work twice as hard just to be seen.”

Rooster stepped closer, reaching out as if to touch her arm, but he stopped himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never wanted you to feel like that.”

Ace shook her head, wiping at her eyes roughly. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just the way it is.”

Rooster looked at her, his own emotions conflicted, guilt weighing heavily on him. He wanted to say more, to fix it somehow, but nothing seemed enough.

The room was buzzing with energy, pilots eager to get up in their jets, but everyone quieted as Maverick cleared his throat.

“Alright, listen up,” Maverick started, his voice carrying the authority that came from years of experience. “Today, we’re pairing up for some head-to-head dogfights. I want you pushing yourselves, testing your limits, and working together. Your teams are as follows: Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob—your trio is up against Hangman and Ace.”

Ace felt her heart skip a beat. A dogfight against Rooster? After everything that had gone down between them, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to be in direct competition with him again. But she wasn’t about to back down. Not now. Not after everything she’d fought through to get back here.

“Get in your daggers and take to the sky,” Maverick said, his eyes scanning the group. “Give me your best. I’ll be monitoring from the ground.”

Ace exchanged a glance with Hangman, who gave her a confident smirk. “Ready to show them what we’re made of?” he asked, his voice oozing with cocky enthusiasm.

She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “Always.”

The Daggers launched into the sky, their jets slicing through the air like knives. Ace settled into the cockpit of her F/A-18, the familiar weight of her helmet and the tight confines of the jet making her feel at home. It had been weeks since she’d been in a full-on dogfight, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins told her she was more than ready.

“Alright, Ace,” Hangman’s voice crackled through her headset, “let’s take it to them.”

“Copy that,” she replied, her voice steady, though inside she felt the rush of anticipation building.

Up ahead, Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob were already in formation, their planes glinting in the sunlight. Rooster’s jet took point, with Phoenix and Bob flanking him. They were an experienced team, and she knew they wouldn’t be easy to take down.

The exercise began with the two teams on opposite ends of the airspace. As soon as Maverick gave the signal, they surged forward, closing the gap between them.

“Stay sharp,” Hangman said, his voice calm but with an edge of excitement. “We’ll break off, keep them guessing.”

“Got it,” Ace replied, her hands tightening on the controls.

Rooster’s team was the first to engage, diving toward them in a sharp descent. Ace quickly banked left, feeling the g-force pull her hard against her seat. Hangman followed suit, both of them splitting up to force Rooster’s team to make a decision—go after her or Hangman.

“Phoenix, Bob, take Hangman. I’ve got Ace,” Rooster called out through the radio, his voice filled with determination.

Ace’s heart raced as she heard Rooster’s voice in her headset, knowing he’d chosen to target her. She pushed her jet to its limits, pulling tight turns and diving low, trying to shake him. But Rooster was relentless, sticking close behind her, his jet always in her rear-view.

“You’re not gonna shake me that easy, Ace,” Rooster’s voice taunted over the radio.

She gritted her teeth, refusing to let him get the upper hand. “We’ll see about that,” she muttered under her breath.

Ahead, she saw her chance—a controlled stall. It was a risky manoeuvre, especially with her recent history, but if she timed it right, she could drop below Rooster, forcing him to overshoot her.

Without hesitation, Ace pulled back hard on the throttle, her jet climbing steeply into the sky. At the apex, she cut the engines, allowing her jet to stall, hanging momentarily in the air before beginning its fall.

Rooster shot past her, his jet zooming overhead as he lost sight of her. It worked. But just as Ace went to flick the engines back on, nothing happened.

For a split second, panic surged through her. The jet was still falling, the ground coming up fast, and her fingers flicked the switches again and again, waiting for the familiar hum of the engines roaring back to life.

“Come on, come on…” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. The cockpit was eerily quiet, the stall lasting longer than it should have.

Finally, with a sputter and a roar, the engines kicked back in, sending her jet lurching forward. But the delay had been enough to send her heart racing, and the brief moment of terror still gripped her. She levelled out, her breathing heavy, her hands slightly trembling on the controls.

“I’m calling it,” she said into the radio, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. “I’m done for the day. Requesting permission to land.”

There was a pause, and then Maverick’s calm voice came over the comms. “Permission granted, Ace. Take her in.”

Ace steadied her jet, bringing it around toward the base. Hangman’s voice crackled through her headset, concern lacing his tone. “You alright, Ace?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, though her voice lacked its usual edge. “Just need to get on the ground.”

As she began her descent toward the runway, the rest of the Daggers continued their dogfight above. But Ace’s focus was solely on landing her plane. Her mind replayed the moment of panic over and over, the feeling of helplessness as the engine refused to start.

The second Ace’s plane touched the ground, she didn’t waste a moment. As soon as her jet came to a stop on the tarmac, she popped the canopy, her breath shallow and hurried. She climbed down from the cockpit, her legs wobbly beneath her, but she didn’t wait for anyone. Not the ground crew, not the Dagger squad, no one.

Without making eye contact with anyone, Ace pulled off her helmet and sprinted across the base, straight toward the changing rooms. Her vision tunnelled, her heart racing in her chest, and her only focus was on getting away from the eyes of her teammates. The air felt too thick, too hot, pressing in on her from all sides. She could hear her own shallow breathing in her ears, louder than the hum of engines behind her. Her hands were trembling, the adrenaline that had once fuelled her now turning into something darker—panic.

As she reached the door to the changing rooms, she shoved it open and slammed it behind her. The room was empty, silent, but it did little to calm the storm building inside her. Ace leaned against the locker, her hands gripping the cool metal as she gasped for air. Her chest tightened, and her head swam as the reality of what had happened in the air hit her with full force. She had lost control. She could’ve crashed. The panic she had fought off in the sky was now consuming her, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Dagger squad began their descent. Hangman, Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob touched down one after the other, the adrenaline of the dogfight still buzzing in their veins. Hangman glanced over to the spot where Ace’s jet had landed and frowned. She was already gone, no sign of her anywhere on the tarmac.

“Where did she go?” Phoenix asked, her voice concerned as she climbed out of her jet.

Rooster’s eyes followed the path Ace had taken, his gut twisting. “I think she went to the changing rooms,” he muttered, already moving before anyone could stop him.

Hangman watched him with a knowing look, but said nothing. Phoenix and Bob exchanged glances, but they didn’t ask questions. They knew something was wrong—everyone could feel it in the air.

Rooster didn’t wait to hear anything else. He jogged across the tarmac, his heart pounding in his chest, not from the flight but from the fear that something was wrong with Ace. The way she had bolted from her jet, the way she avoided them—something wasn’t right.

He reached the door to the changing rooms and hesitated for a split second before pushing it open. The moment he stepped inside, he heard it—the sound of rapid, shallow breaths, gasps that echoed off the walls. His heart clenched as he rounded the corner and saw her.

Ace was sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the lockers, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her helmet and flight gear were tossed carelessly to the side, and her hands were gripping the fabric of her flight suit so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, and tears streaked down her face as she struggled to breathe, each breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Hey, hey,” Rooster said softly, rushing to her side and kneeling down in front of her. “Ace, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

She didn’t respond, her chest heaving as she tried to pull in air, but it wasn’t coming fast enough. She was lost in the panic, trapped in the fear that had taken hold of her.

Rooster’s heart broke at the sight of her like this, so strong and fierce but now unravelling in front of him. Without thinking, he reached out and gently took her hands in his, prying them away from her flight suit. “Ace, look at me,” he urged, his voice low and calming. “Breathe with me, okay? Just breathe.”

Her eyes flickered to his, but she still looked far away, her breaths coming in harsh pants. Rooster squeezed her hands, grounding her in the present. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Come on, you can do this.”

He demonstrated, taking slow, deep breaths, and after a few seconds, Ace began to follow his lead. Her breaths were still shaky, but they were slowing down, becoming more controlled. Rooster didn’t let go of her hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against her skin.

“That’s it, you’re doing great,” he whispered, watching as the tension in her shoulders slowly began to release. “Just keep breathing.”

After a few minutes, Ace’s breathing evened out, and she slumped back against the lockers, her chest still rising and falling rapidly but no longer in a full-blown panic. Rooster stayed close, his hands still holding hers, not saying anything for a moment, just giving her time to collect herself.

When she finally looked at him, her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

“I—I lost control up there,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. “I could’ve crashed. I don’t know what happened…”

Rooster shook his head softly, moving closer. “You didn’t crash,” he said firmly. “You handled it. You brought the plane down. You’re here, Ace. You’re okay.”

She swallowed hard, the weight of what had almost happened still heavy on her chest. “I panicked… I don’t panic.”

Rooster reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch soft and reassuring. “You’re human. Even the best of us get scared sometimes.”

She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, but the vulnerability was too much. “I thought I was past this. I thought I could handle it…”

Rooster leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against hers. “You don’t have to handle everything alone,” he whispered. “I’ve never wanted to be better than you, Ace. I’ve always just wanted to fly with you.”

Her breath hitched, and she opened her eyes, meeting his. He gave her a small, tender smile, the usual cocky bravado gone, replaced with genuine care.

“I’ve always cared about you,” he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to compete with you. I just wanted to be beside you.”

Before she could say anything, Rooster pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. It wasn’t romantic—it was comforting, grounding. He was showing her that she wasn’t alone.

Ace’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions—relief, fear, gratitude, and something she couldn’t quite name. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath, leaning into him just a little.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she had to prove anything. Not to him. Not to anyone.

This sure took a while but I reached 1k and thought I should finish it!

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