Tumgik
#looks like an airport!!!!! and this looks like an airport FIT!!!!!!
imaginesig · 2 days
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Blue + Papaya
Pato O'Ward x reader
An F1 and an Indycar driver go on a social media brake....
ynln posted a two stories!
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caption: (1) was I paying attention to the totally important sponsor lunch? Mmh yea totally (2) cheers to the absolute champ that is my man @/patriciooward
replies:
maxverstappen1
you're lucky they thought it was cute
old rich people love happy couples!
yea and the champagne you bought the table
hey the sponsored agreed to the next season so 🤷‍♀️
patriciooward
I cannot believe you
dont worry they found our love cute so they agreed
you're ridiculous
but you love me!
I do ❤️
user1
LMAO Y/N
user2
YOU WERE NOT WATCHING INDYCAR AT A WORK LUNCH
user3
y'all are literally my favorite couple ever!!!
patriciooward
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liked by ynln, arrowmclaren, user43, and 823,209 others
patriciooward celebrating first 💪
tagged arrowmclaren, ynln
ynln THATS HOW WE DO IT
ynln LETS GO PAPAYA
user3 what a redbull pr nightmare
ynln IM SO PROUD
patriciooward I love you 🤍
ynln I love you too!!!!🤍
arrowmclaren That's our driver 👏🏆
user1 YESSS PATO!!!!
user2 a weekend full of Mclaren wins🧡
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patriciooward posted two stories!
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captions: (1) lets go 13!!! (and Mclaren) (2) someone's moms a winner
replies
ynln
I love youuu
I love you tooooo
call me later!!
Will do!
landonorris
thanks for the support 😒
at least I mentioned you
bros before hoes or whatever they say
im ignoring you now
user1
stop this is too cute
user2
"someones mom" I'm gonna cry
ynln
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liked by patriciooward, redbullracing, maxverstappen1, and 928,293 others
ynln love to hear that champagne pop!
tagged redbullracing
patriciooward You were incredible! Norbi and I are so proud!!
ynln I love and miss you guys 🤍
danielriccardo what a race!
redbullracing thats our girl 💪💪
ynln admin i love you
maxverstappen1 next time I'll get you
ynln sure sure, whatever you say
user1 great day for YnPato fans
user2 fr i love the double wins
user3 aww the flowers from Pato
user4 hes always on top of things
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twitter
ynln posted a story!
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caption: off week(s) I love you already
replies
user1
where you going with that papaya Y/n?
user2
headed to america by any chance?
user3
airport fits always eat
indycar_updates
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liked by user1, user5, user84, and 734,939 others
indycar_updates whether you know her from her career in F1 or as Pato O'Ward's girlfriend, a familiar face has been spotted in the paddock
tagged no one
user1 OMG OMG OMG
user2 THEY'RE BACK TOGETHER FINALLY
user3 its a great day or annoying people
user4 she looks so good!!
user5 i love that she has no papaya
user6 shes loyal to rb
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arrowmclaren
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liked by ynln, user54, user2, and 928,293 others
arrowmclaren it was an honor to host our Mclaren buddies (and of course of fav Red Bull gets a shout out 😍)!!
tagged oscarpiastri, landonorris, ynln
elbaoward @/ynln you look so cute
ynln I'd be nowhere without your style guidance
redbullracing we lost our girl to the orange team
arrowmclaren its papaya actually
ynln dont fight, this isnt you admin
oscarpiastri thank you for the warm hospitality!
landonorris what a great weekend!
user1 welp looks like girlie came across some merch
user2 we lost her 😔
user3 ok ok but like thats Pato's personal jacket, not just some merch
user2 nevermind them i can be ok with this
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ynln
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liked by maxverstappen1, patriciooward, user66, and 902,292 others
ynln you look so good in papaya baby 🧡
tagged: patriciooward
redbullracing come home the kids miss you
ynln otw admin 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
patriciooward ditto 😉🧡
ynln the only time I will ever be seen
elbaoward hands a little low 🤨
ynln heard loud and clear, won't happen again 🫡
user1 I love that she didnt post a single pic of herself in Mclaren merch/colors
user2 pr dream
user3 I love the first pic
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patriciooward
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liked by ynln, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 928,203 others
patriciooward great results+great company=perfect weekend 🧡🤍
tagged arrowmclaren, ynln, oscarpiastri, landonorris
ynln wonderful race!! I love you
patriciooward thank you for the support! I love you too
landonorris great race!
oscarpiastri it was wonderful meeting you!
arrowmclaren we agree, great company 😁
user1 Im beginning to think Mclaren photoshopped their photo of her, because Y/n hasn't been seen in papaya since 💀
user2 the second photo hand placement 🫠🫠
user3 my fav Mclaren boys all in one place
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ynln
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liked by danielriccardo, elbaoward, user94, and 929,0292 others
ynln who doesn't love watching your best friends get married??
tagged patriciooward
patriciooward gorgeous girl 🤍
ynln pretty boy 🤍
user1 ugh they are so attractive
user2 im gonna cry the way he's looking at her in the second pic
user3 so when will y'all attend your own wedding??
user4 fr
elbaoward I second this
ynln LMAO ELBA GET OUT
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patriciooward posted a story!
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caption: be my forever wedding date? @/ynln
replies
ynln
anytime baby 🤍
Time Skip
patriciooward
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liked by elbaoward, user54, landonorris, and 829,292 others
patriciooward what a season! Thank you @/arrowmclaren for everything!
tagged arrowmclaren, ynln
ynln so so so proud!!!!
patriciooward 🤍
arrowmclaren can't wait for next year 👏👏
patriciooward right back at you!!
user1 next years champion- I can smell it
user2 lets go Pato!!!
user3 ugh this man is too fine
user4 that middle picture is actual goals
user5 my fav couple fr fr
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ynln
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liked by elbaoward, user43, user92, and 928,029 others
ynln IndyCar, what a season
tagged: patriciooward
ynln alternate caption: save a horse
user1 LMAO Y/N
danielriccardo im blocking you
maxverstappen1 how would admin feel about this
pactriciooward 🤠
pactriciooward thank you for being here for it, near and far 🤍
ynln 🤍🤍
user2 that last photo ma'am 😫
user3 omg their captions match
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ynln
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liked by danielriccardo, yukitsunoda0511, user25, and 981, 918 others
ynln last moments of peace before its back to work
tagged patriciooward
redbullracing we hope you enjoyed it!!🏕️
Patriciooward unplug and unwind
user1 awww Norbi
User2 I love this!!
User3 this is such a them thing to do
user4 right only Yn and Pato would go camping with his dog on a off week
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patriciooward posted a story!
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caption 🤍🤍, 🎶 Keep Driving by Harry Styles
Replies
User1
Orange backpack?? We caught her
User2
Enjoy offseason!!
User3
please travel with Y/n to f1 stuff!!!
f1_updates
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liked by user82, user91, user 9, and 718,828 others
f1_updates: Pato O'Ward, Y/n L/n's boyfriend and Arrow Mclaren Driver, has posted several stories proving rumors he's in the paddock today dressed in Red Bull Blue...
tagged no one
User1 please not the selfie in the hospitality bathroom
User2 he may have blue on but we all see the nods to McLaren
user3 they’re both so stubborn abt their teams 💀
user4 OMG OMG OMG
user5 they are literally couple goals
User6 if he wanted to he would
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ynln
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liked by user3, danielriccardo, redbullracing, and 918,992 others
ynln the best company in the paddock this week! So happy to get P4, but rest assured I'll come back stronger next time
tagged redbullracing, patriciooward
user1 the last pic HELLO???
user2 they’re too cute
lilmhe glasses Y/n is too cute
Ynln love you lils 🫶🫶
Patriciooward 🤍
Ynln 🤍
user3 such good driving this weekend!!
user4 podium next week??
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patriciooward
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liked by Ynln, user42, arrowmclaren, and 982,992 others
patriciooward in a sea of blue I'll bring the papaya
Tagged Ynln, redbullracing
Ynln can’t take the McLaren out of the boy
patriciooward sorry not sorry babe!
redbullracing after our hospitality?? Were hurt
arrowmclaren @/mclaren we’ve trained him well
landonorris right on mate
user1 only Pato
user2 I swear 💀
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Time Skip
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ynln and patriciooward
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liked by danielriccardo, landonorris, elbaoward, and 918,929 others
ynln 10.13.24
tagged no one
elbaoward my favorites!! I love you guys ❤️❤️
danielriccardo best night ever!
landonorris beautiful couple!!
User1 welp we now know where they’ve been
User2 STOP THEY GOT MARRIED
user3 this was not on my 2024 bingo card
user4 im gonna cry
user5 you know this was a party between all the F1 and indycar drivers 😭
user6 Y/n IS the life of the party
user7 what a power couple
load more
169 notes · View notes
callofdudes · 3 days
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*presents to you* price being a father figure to you and bringing you back to meet his wife where she treats you like her child 😭😭😭😭
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Three makes a family.
John Price's history with his inability to have children was a rough one. His wife was a gentle woman with the heart of a lion inside. She had all the care a mother could provide and no children she could pour her love into. It was a struggle, but over the years they'd made due with themselves.
The idea of adoption has come up a few times, but John doesn't like the thought of being away so much from said child. It just wasn't a good situation they had found themselves in.
Price creating the 141 was just one of those ways that Price felt what it might be like to have family. Sure, he got his fair experience of what rounding up a gaggle of children would have been like. But he enjoyed the feeling of having fellow adults he could meet on his level while feeling paternal toward them.
You are one of them.
Price has had his fair share of wild run ins with you. And he's no stranger to getting you and John for something. But you were a good soldier regardless.
Talk of his family was limited of course. You guys knew he didn't have children, but not much more than that. Simon had been to the house before but refused to tell, it wasn't the greatest time when you visited anyway.
But now it's your turn to take up the mantle. Price's wife had decided she wanted company over at the house when he returned, so he invited one of you in secret as to not make the others potentially jealous or crowd his wife.
And that's how you got here, in the busy rush of the airport and following Price like a loet lamb to find the exit after grabbing your bags. Price looked around for his wife, and he spotted a sign with his name, and the most beautiful woman.
He smiled and led you over, falling in love all over again when he saw her.
"John!" She put the sign down and rushed to hug him, his firm arms curling around her. "Rebecca." *He replied fondly, kissing the top of her head. She had chest length blonde hair and a simple but lovely complexion.
You couldn't help a little smile at seeing them reunited, and a tad sheepish at meeting your captain's wife.
She opened her eyes, still smooshed against his chest and waved at you softly.
You waved back shyly.
They pulled away and Rebecca held out her hand to you. "Rebecca, and you are-"
"Everyone on base calls me Egg."
"Ah, John has told me a lot about you." She motioned for you two to follow her, walking with you back to the entrance of the airport.
"Wait- what has he been saying??" You cocked an eyebrow up.
"Only good things I promise." Price said quickly, to which Rebecca chuckled and shook her head softly.
You shot Price a look, and he innocently turned his head away to look back at his wife like nothing happened.
Rebecca gave you an entire window tour on the way back. You didn't mind listening to her introduce you to everything you passed. Her tone was warm and her smile never left her lips when he addressed you. It made you feel welcome, it was such a warm feeling that you felt around Price. Fitting.
Their house was beautiful, as much as London homes are, but theirs had a particular charm to it. Like a newly wed couple buying their first house together and never moving.
You lugged your bags up the driveway and into the house behind Rebecca, Price keeping the door open for you.
"Your place is nice." You commented when you put your bags down.
"Thank you. The spare bedroom is upstairs, I'll show you." She slipped her shoes off and motioned for you to follow.
The spare bedroom was a queen mattress, the walls were a light baby blue, and it made you smile. "Child's room?" You asked without thinking, and soon realizing your mistake.
Rebecca smiled, though her eyes dimmed in sadness. "We'd hoped. But you can have it." She went to the closet and pulled out some extra blankets. "In case it gets cold you can layer up. And if you need anything in here don't hesitate to tell us."
You nodded. "Thank you, I will."
Price squeezed your shoulder as you went to set up the room, and then turned to greet his wife properly with a loving kiss.
---
The first couple days at the house were nice, Rebecca was incredibly hospitable. She accommodated what you needed, and the double attention from Price was a win for you.
Rebecca couldn't help seeing you as a kiddo for her to take care of. The way Price was with you, wrapping an arm around you for snuggles or teasing you at dinner.
"Do you like cookies??" She asked from the kitchen as she kneaded the small balls of cookie dough and placed them on a tray.
"Cookies sound good. What kind??" You looked over at her from the table.
"Just chocolate chip. I figured I'd go simple."
You smiled a little. "Yeah, that sounds nice."
She nodded and finished putting the cookies on the tray and slid them into the oven. "They'll be out in a bit." She came by and gently patted your shoulder, a comforting touch from her.
Price came in from the patio after having a smoke and coughed when he walked in.
Rebecca and you both looked at him when he entered.
"John, be careful." Rebecca scolded softly, walking over and lifting his chin, seeing his tired eyes. She sighed softly and took his hand. "Go relax darling, a nap will do you more good than a cigar."
He hummed and shrugged. He tiredly stole a kiss from her lips before he had to lean into his arm to cough again.
You put your phone down and lightly shake your head. "Come on Captain."
Price huffed indignantly. "Oh so now both of you are policing me around??" He smirked and tugged Rebecca in by her waist and allowed you over.
But he didn't fight, allowing himself to be led to bed, and he flopped down, feeling you curl up to his left side, and Rebecca got comfy with a book at his other.
Price squeezed her hand and ruffled your hair. He wasn't old, but mannnn, he loves his old man naps.
You smiled as you got comfy, looking up at Rebecca. She looked back at you and smiled too, letting you rest.
And you woke up to the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies. Price searched lazily for Rebecca, his arm still securely wrapped around you.
You yawned and rolled, hiding against his chest. He patted your shoulder and looked over at the door. "C'mon... I smell cookies."
"Ok..." You groaned and managed to drag yourself off of Price's chest and follow him downstairs where Rebecca was reading at the table.
"Cookies are ready." She said when she heard you two, smiling softly.
"Thank you, darling." Price said sleepily, going to the stove and taking up a cookie.
You hummed excitedly and also went for one. "Gooey." You said between bites, "I like them."
"I'm glad I could make them for you two."
She was like Price to you, a strong rock, and a warm embrace. She was like a mother, and that made you happy as much as it did her. She'd give anything to be a mother, and she wasn't picky of who it was she got to cherish.
(I know there's a lot of her character we've digested over a long time, this was the best I could come up with. I'm on a time crunch but take this. 🙂)
98 notes · View notes
bekolxeram · 1 day
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The ever so observant @misterapril pointed out in this post that there may be a fake plane crash scenario on Hotshots while a real one (possibly with Athena onboard) is happening, explaining the 2 different planes we see in bts material.
I've mentioned numerous times before, this cockpit mock up belongs to an aircraft from the A320s family.
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The cockpit mockup seems to be from the same type of aircraft as well. It's a narrow body judging by the proportion, and the 2 Boeing narrow body airliners (737 and 757) both have cabin doors working like a regular door, namely rotation outwards to open. While all Airbus doors pop straight out and move to the side without rotating.
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B737 door vs A320 door
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This aircraft on the other hand looks more like a wide body to me, simply because a narrow body airliner doesn't have enough ground clearance to fit a whole firetruck under its wing. It's a Boeing for sure, look at the cockpit windows. I'm leaning towards it being a 767 instead of a 777, simply because a 777 should be a bit larger and I see no winglet on the wing (can be a perspective issue, 777 has raked wingtips that might not show up if you take a photo leveled with the wings).
Well, thanks to @misterapril, I've just noticed something that should be super obvious if I wasn't blinded by the plane.
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This is not the Ontario Airport tower.
So we know Angela filmed something at ONT terminal 2. The hangar with all the firetrucks and ambulances is also there. What you may not know is that said hangar is right next to the ONT control tower, so I always assumed the night scene with the Boeing plane and the 119 truck was also filmed there.
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But guys, they're not the same tower.
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The one behind the firetruck is the San Bernardino Airport tower.
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In fact, I'm pretty sure I know exactly where they filmed this particular scene, taking into consideration other landmarks visible in the same bts photo.
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I think this video posted by Kenny was filmed in the same location.
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I believe they are the same building. You can judge it on your own by watching this clip. It's also the only area within the airfield with highway like markings, leading straight out of a fire station.
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Why is this piece of information important you may ask? Well, we've been speculating the 2 different planes conundrum might be due to budget/production constraint. In S1, the show bought an actual 757 from an airplane boneyard in Arizona and shipped it piece by piece to California. It was such a headache.
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Do you know San Bernardino Airport is also a boneyard? I can imagine Tim says, "don't worry about logistics, we're taking the filming straight to the boneyard this time!" So everything is possible, you have all sorts of retired airliners you can play with for cheap. There's also the possibility that the Boeing we see is just parked nearby, maybe it has nothing to do with filming.
Do you know what else San Bernardino Airport has? A USFS air base. In 7x04 they used the Helinet hangar and its (mostly news) helicopters for the Harbor tour scene, right? San Bernardino is filled with actual firefighting air tankers and helicopters. Perhaps they would be generous enough to let the show take a few shots of a certain helicopter flying around, I don't know, saving people?
EDIT: From the same bts video Kenny posted, I think they're standing under the horizontal stabilizer of a plane? I might be seeing things, and it's not very important, just curious.
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67 notes · View notes
blamemma · 1 year
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Daniel Ricciardo with fans | 11.9.23 | ft. Enchanté Records
317 notes · View notes
faerenjun · 1 year
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230327 RENJUN // ICN ✈️ LHR
551 notes · View notes
mythryl00 · 17 days
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Heavy rain warning!! 🌧
17 notes · View notes
bwambiee · 3 months
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does any1 eva get anxiety flyin’ on a plane ? m a littl nervous 2 fly 4 my trip tmw n i’ll b on da plane for 6 hrs ૮꒰◞ ◟ ೕ꒱ა which is so much longer than m used to :( n it’s at night ! which makes mi evn more scared tew fly . .
5 notes · View notes
thewispsings · 4 months
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PR nightmare | oscar piastri
paring: oscar piastri x singer!reader
summary: y/n is considered a pr nightmare. let’s watch her get into her first relationship.
notes: yet another repost from my old account, i tired to make it exactly the same, enjoy!
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— y/n has posted new pictures!
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liked by mclaren, f1, yourbrother, and 737,938 others!
yoursername: my manger told me to tell you guys that the illuminati is NOT real and i was just joshing around !! 😂👍👍😂
view comments below!
user1: ugh this is SO BELIEVABLE
user2: | WAS WAITING FOR THIS POST
user3: yeah let's all ignore the "i wrote songs about an f1 driver!!!!"
user4: the pictures 😭
yourmomsuser: pic credits?
yoursername: you're like 60 why do you know what pic credits are ??
user5: the illuminati is totally real 🙄
mclaren: 👀
yourusername: NO THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING PLS LOOK AWAY
user6: no offense, but how did you stumble across F2 oscar???
yourusername: my brother is like a HUGE f1, 2, AND 3 nerd and he always forces me to watch races with him 😣
yourbrothersuser: you literally ask me to tell you when oscar's back on the screen???
yourusername: okay kill yourself????
yourbrothersuser: @/yourmomsuser
yourusername: GOD YOU ARE SUCH A SNITCH
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ynupdates: y/n and her brother; jacob, were seen at the airport earlier today, she later posted the picture on the right, on her story, confirming that she is in fact traveling. y/n has no shows coming up, and she rarely travels with jacob. thoughts?
view comments below!
user7: guys guys..the monaco grand prix in literally in two days.
user8: SHES GOING TO THE GRAND PRIX. I KNOW IT.
user9: why's her brother kinda??
user10: you can't even see his face 😭😭?
user9: I CAN JUST TELL
user11: everyone saying she's going to the grand prix are like getting my hopes up??????
user12: WATCH HER GO SOMEWHERE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT 😭
user13: okay guys..but we never talked about what songs could be about oscar
user14: IVE DONE SO MUCH THINK ABOUT THIS!!!
user13: GIRL PLEASE TELL
user14: OKAY OKAY!! one that REALLY stands out to me is "my love mine all mine" because, we all know y/n has never had a boyfriend before, SO when she writes love songs, obviously people speculate that she's in a relationship
user14: WHEN SHE WAS ASKED ABOUT THE INSPIRATION FOR "my love mine all mine" she said "i sadly do not have a boyfriend yet. but there is someone i've had my eye on for some time." SHE COULD HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT OSCAR AND WE DIDNT EVEN NOTICE
user15: istg if y/n doesn't show up in the paddock tomorrow, i will throw a fit.
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liked by mclaren, f1, yourbrother, and 837,938 others!
yourusername: i could tell you where i am and what im doing, but its funny reading the theories
view comments below !
user15: are you going to a secret illuminati meeting user16: pls y/n pls just tell us
user17: this is cruel AND YOU KNOW IT
user18: pls lord, let y/n go to the monaco grand prix🙏🙏
user19: there's no way she ISNT going to the grand prix, i mean she's with her brother, and he's literally like the biggest f1 fan ever?? why else would they be traveling together
user20: maybe they're traveling together because they're siblings😭😭 ?? it doesn't have to connect to f1
yourbrothersuser: y/n pls put the phone down. i need a good nights rest for tomorrow.
user21: TOMORROW ???? IS ??? THE ???? GRAND ??? PRIX ??? ARE ???? YOU ??? GUYS ???? GOING ????
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ynupdates: it seems like the rumors are true! y/n and jacob are currently at the grand prix!
view comments below!
user 22: 1 FUCKING KNEW IT
user23: everyone knew it...
user24: WHOO CAREEESSS oscar and y/n interaction WHEN ???
user25: ugh i NEED grid x y/n interactions RN
user26: y/n this, oscar that. WHAT I NEED IS TO SEE Y/NS BROTHER MEET MAX
user27: omg can you imagine how happy he is rn
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— mclaren has posted new photos!
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liked by yourusername, f1, yourbrother, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 837,938 others!
mclaren: monaco was a dream! thank you y/n for joining us view comments below!
view comments below!
user28: 1 SHOULVE BEEN THERE. I COULDVE METY/N. THAT SHOULDVE BEEN ME.
yourusername: thank you for having me🧡
user29: okay now make oscar and y/n kiss
yourbrothersuser: thank you for making my dream come true 🙏🙏
redbullracing: @/yourusername our garage next
yourusername: i think @/yourbrothersuser would enjoy that more then i ever could
redbullracing: he's always welcome to join 💙
yourbrothersuser: AHHHHHH OMG OMG
user30: okay now more grid x y/n content
user31: the way this became like a meet and greet for y/n was INSANE
user32: who would've thought there would be so many y/n fans at a F1 race??
user33: everyone's a y/n l/n fan.
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— y/n has posted new photos!
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liked by, mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri 763,928 others!
yourusername: do you think he'll try weed with me now that he's my boyfriend?
view comments below !
user34: EXCUSE ME BOYFRIEND???
user35: OMG Y/N GOT HER FIRST BOYFRIEND!! АННННН
user36: OSCAR AND Y/N??? HELL YEAH
user37: okay let's just pretend that doesn't say what it says 😭
yourmanger: y/n please change that caption.
yourusername: i don't know how ☹️
user38: WHO CARES ABOUT THE CAPTION!!! Y/N AND OSCAR SHIPPERS RISE
mclaren: in case that caption isn't a joke, y/n please refrain from getting our drivers high.
yourusername: YOU GUYS ARE NO FUNN
user39: i love how public y/n is. like she genuinely acts like she doesn't have millions of followers
oscarpiastri: love i already told you, we cant get high.
yourusername: YOU WOULD IF YOU LOVED ME.
maxverstappen1: i'll get high with you y/n 🙋‍♂️
redbullracing: no you will not.
4K notes · View notes
neil-gaiman · 5 months
Note
Id like to let you know that I recently lost my annotated and very well-loved copy of Fragile Things in the San Diego Airport.
Rather, I lent it to a goth kid who'd been sitting next to me and wanted to know if I had an Android charger. I did. She plugged her phone in, and a pinhole light on the screen blinked into life. We both looked at the otherwise dead screen for a moment, and I asked her where she was flying to. New York, she said.
Then she asked me what book I was reading - Fragile Things, I told her, by the same guy who wrote Coraline. What's it *about*, though, she asked again.
Im at best a mediocre writer, so I rather gave her the book than trying to explain things myself. I figure some folks get Hugos for writing stories, and I should let 'em do it.
She didnt seem to mind my scribbles in the margins, and it was fun, watching a painted face that looked so somber and serious just a few minutes ago smile. A Study in Emerald had its surprising share of humour. After a while, I stopped paying attention and scrolled absentmindedly through my phone.
Then I hear my flight called - San Diego to Philadelphia, the boarding now, group C, C as in Coconut. I grab my bag, my phone, my ticket, pat my pockets down for my passport, my overstuffed backpack, precariously balanced on my carryon luggage, my headphone wires tangled in the strap of my purse and jerked out of my ears. I trot hastily over to the gate check - a smile, a beep, and I'm shuffled down the gangway and into the plane. My things stowed, and myself cozy against the window.
This was when I went to reach for my book, and realised that it was missing - still nestled comfortably in the hands of a 15-odd goth.
I miss my book. It had many memories in it, beyond the stories told there. My grandfather was still alive when i first read Fragile Things, and he was the one who gave it to me. But I hope that the kid who has it now will also love the stories you wrote. I hope maybe she will remember me and our little story, that we now share. Maybe she will also keep other memories of her own in there.
It seems an oddly fitting way for me to part with this book. It was an old fragile thing, given to me by a fragile man, and left to a child with whom i had only a fragile, tenuous connection.
Or maybe I'm reading too much into things, i don't know.
At any rate, if you read all this rambling, thank you mister Gaiman.
I hope it was the book she needed.
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would you ever consider writing for jacob elordi? b/c now i'm craving him with a lawyer gf too😭😭 like he would sooo be with someone smart. those airport pics? buying books for her. the world? shocked he's not with a model.
Out of my league || Jacob Elordi x reader
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A/n: love love love!!! And yes i plan on making more jacob fics :) i felt like i needed to post smth so here 😭
Warnings: none
Wc:
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For the longest time, Jacob has always stayed private about his relationships. Whenever he would be asked in interviews, he would acknowledge he was in a relationship but never went into detail into who it was.
Fans have since then speculated that he was dating a model, or even another actress. Especially after an interview he had where he was asked if he was seeing anyone and he responded with “Yeah, I am. But I think she’s out my league to be honest,” with that boyish grin.
The two of you met while you were at a cafe in Boston, studying for an upcoming test when he left his wallet at the counter. You obviously knew who he was, I mean, who didn’t?
Jacob found you crazy attractive. Not just because of your looks but because you were smart. It wasn’t everyday he would bump into a Harvard student studying law.
After about two years of dating, the two of you decided that it wouldn’t matter if fans found out the two of you were dating. No one’s opinion would change anything.
jacobelordiupdates_
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Liked by 3,047,183 people
Jacob spotted at Sydney airport buying books 👀 wonder where he’s off to?
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user1: 😍😍
user2: he’d be my airport crush omds
user3: he’s so hot I cant.
user4: the fit.
user5: damn his gf is so lucky
y/n_y/l/n: he’s actually coming to see me 🙃
↘️ user6: who even are u 😭
~
And so when he came to Boston to visit you—the day before valentines—he decided to finally post you on his instagram. Undoubtedly, Jacob’s fans went into a frenzy. Going crazy at the fact that they were wrong and that he was not dating model, or an actress like they suspected, but a Harvard law student.
jacobelordi
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Liked by y/n_y/l/n, sydneysweeney, archmadekwe, and 9,397,028 others
What the monkey on the wall says 🐒❤️
tagged: y/n_y/l/n
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y/n_y/l/n: mwah!
↘️ jacobelordi: 😚😚
user1: OMG OMG OMG
user2: everyone wake up, Jacob posted about his gf
user3: so she isn’t a model…… WE WERE SO WRONG LMAO
user4: did anyone notice her comment on jacobelordiupdates_ post yesterday 😭😭
user5: oh to be her 😩
user6: she’s a Harvard law student? omfg I’m curious as to how they even met
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ☕️🔑
↘️ user7: IS THIS A HINT LOL
~
y/n_y/l/n
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Liked by jacobelordi and 10,037 others
nope not a model, just your average Harvard law student!!
view all comments
jacobelordi: so much better than a model babe 🥱
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: hehehehehe 🥰
user1: JACOB IN THE THIRD PIC
user2: isn’t that the book he bought at the airport yesterday 😭
↘️ user3: YES!
↘️ user4: that was what I was thinking too 🤔
↘️ user5: that’s so cute aweee
user6: the caption. love her for that lmao
user7: she’s so luckyyy
user8: the fact that everyone for sure thought Jacob was dating a model 😬
↘️ jacobelordi: they thought wrong. law students do it better
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: lol sorry to burst ur bubble x
↘️ user8: OMG OMG U BOTH ANSWERED
user9: finally, a celebrity not dating some other celebrity or model 😂
user10: how can a Harvard student be out of Jacob Elordi’s league?!
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elysianightsss · 8 days
Text
Okay I know this trope has been done time and time again but it’s a fuckingggg classic okay? Okay.
Best friend Johnny who keeps a photo of you in his pocket so he can remind himself what he is fighting to get home to.
Best friend Johnny who’s face lights up as soon as he sees you waiting for him at the airport with one of them big signs saying Johnny on it. It looks like you spent a lot of time hand decorating it.
Best friend Johnny who doesn’t argue when you ask him to stay at your house his first night home, he simply smiles with a nod because why would he ever refuse you.
Best friend Johnny who already has some of his clothes in your drawers for whenever he stays over. Brought over a duffle bag full of some a while ago and just stared filling your drawers.
Best friend Johnny who snoops around after he gets out the shower to see if you’d gotten any new toys while he was away. (You had) he grins while inspecting the new one, not a vibrator this time. No this one was moulded like a real man, very detailed he noticed. He would never tell you how he held it next to his to see the size difference.
Best friend Johnny who grins at you when he comes out of your room freshly cleaned and in new clothes to find you in one of his shirts and just underwear, dancing to the ABBA songs you were playing through Alexa.
Best friend Johnny who dances with you just so he had an excuse to have his hands on you. And oh boy does he, his thick fingers running over your body. Hot breath on your neck as you both laugh.
Best friend Johnny who feels on cloud nine while he makes dinner with you, the domesticity of it all making him yearn for more. The way you’re both moving around each other, flowing and fitting in with each other perfectly.
Best friend Johnny who even though is eating the same thing as you, still tries to feed you with an “Op’n up fa me lass.” Spoon in hand resting softly against your lips waiting patiently for you to accept, “K’mon bonnie.”
Best friend Johnny whose face drops when you tell him all about the date you had been on with a complete and utter douchebag while he was away. You don’t notice the way he freezes at your words, you don’t see the fire behind his eyes.
Best friend Johnny who finally finds the courage within him to say you don’t need to date anyone. You have him. He’s yours, always have been bonnie.
Best friend Johnny who goes crazy when you finally let him touch you. Desperately laps at your pussy, clit swollen and aching as the Scot wraps his lips around it wanting nothing more than to show you how well he can take care of you. How quick he can make you cum all over his tongue.
Best friend Johnny who is the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. He’s all over you, he’s in your every thought, your every breath. You feel him in your throat when he slides his thick cock into your slick pussy. You’re dripping a mixture of cum and Johnny’s spit.
Best friend Johnny who’s so hot the way he’s desperate for it, pathetically desperate to slap his hips against your ass. The shlick shlick shlick sounds loud in the air with the way his heavy balls slap against your clit sending rolls of pleasure through you with each thrust. “Fuck lass, so pretty! Do ye ken what ye do to me? Dis wee cunt is addictive!”
Best friend Johnny who makes love to you well into the early hours of the morning. You’re a complete dishevelled mess by the time he’s done. Hickies anywhere his mouth could reach, hand marks on your hips, hair a mess, drool on your chin, throat dry and sore from screaming his name and your cunt dripping with his cum. But you fall asleep satisfied with a smile on your swollen lips.
Boyfriend Johnny who kisses you softly all over, whispering praises and I love yous into your skin as he uses a warm flannel to wipe away the sweat and cum from your body.
Boyfriend Johnny who makes you breakfast in bed, all your favourites and some pieces of fruit for healthiness. Who delivers it to you on your bamboo tray, an apron wrapped around him that says ‘I’m cute’ on the front. His naked arse out of full display.
Boyfriend Johnny that watches you eat with a smile on your face and happiness bubbling in his chest.
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gogogodzilla · 11 months
Text
day 23, virginity loss
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edward cullen x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, maybe ooc!edward, slight dirty talk, human!reader kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3
Edward Cullen was a man who pretended to have a strict moral code when it came to you, but the way he was ravishing you tonight was downright sinful. 
Your wedding was nothing short of extravagant, of course. The Cullens spared no expense for your union. However, all you could think about was Edward ripping your dress off of you and taking you right there and then. By the way he gripped your side tightly the entire night, you could tell your wandering thoughts were getting to him. 
Your lips quickly attached to the side of his neck as he drove to the airport and your fingertips trailed up his thigh. He grabbed your hand and nipped at your inner wrist, a silent warning to behave. 
You were on your best behavior after that, only allowing your thoughts to veer off course once or twice, just to keep Edward on his toes. 
Isle Esme was gorgeous, and you couldn’t wait to see it in the daylight. You were glad to finally be alone with Edward. As you approached the threshold of the front door, he swept you off your feet and a high-pitched squeal left you at his movements. 
“Little warning next time?” you raised a brow as he carried into the main room of the villa. He spun you around, a grin gracing his features. 
“I am nothing if not traditional,” he replied as he set you down. His hands lingered on your waist as you looked up at him. 
You pursed your lips, “That’s for sure.” 
He chuckled, before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. His cool fingers traced a delicate path across your jawline, and you shuddered against his touch. Your heartbeat quickened in your chest, and you wondered if Edward’s thoughts were racing just as fast as yours were. 
Your lips parted and his breath fanned across your cheek. He laced his fingers with yours and led you deeper into the house. It was luxurious and open, and you never wanted to leave. 
Soft lighting bathed the master bedroom, and a sudden wave of nervousness overtook you. You’d been intimate before but never like this. 
He pulled you into the bedroom and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I promised you we’d try,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours. 
You forced yourself to focus on his touch lingering on your hips and the ocean breeze drifting through the open double doors to the bedroom. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you formulated your plan in your mind. 
“Think you can wait a bit longer while I change into something more comfortable,” you questioned, pulling yourself out of his embrace. 
He grinned, “I’ve waited 104 years, a few more minutes isn’t going to kill me.” 
You grabbed one of your smaller bags and brought it into the bathroom with you. You sifted through the various sets of lingerie Alice had meticulously packed for you, looking for something that wouldn’t be impossible to put on. 
You settled on a lacy dark blue, but not navy, bralette and panties with little to no straps. Easy enough.  
Once you had the lingerie settled onto your features, you took a moment to gaze at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t deny Alice’s taste when it came to anything you wore. The lingerie fit you like a glove and looked amazing. You looked amazing. You spritzed some perfume on yourself before exiting the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind you. 
Edward turned to face you. He was still wearing the light blue button-up that he donned after the reception. The two buttons at the top were undone, which was definitely not because of you. 
His eyes raked up your body, and you struck a pose, attempting to diffuse the tension in the air. He chuckled and the next thing you knew you were lifted into his arms. His hands cupped your ass and held you steady against him. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him, deep and slow. 
With every moment, your kisses grew deeper and more desperate. Edward laid you softly onto the plush mattress, his lips still attached to yours.  
“You’re exquisite,” he breathed as he took in your features. He left featherlight kisses along your cheekbones before moving to your jawline and to your neck. His tongue grazed over the skin of your pulse point and you tangled your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly.
“Don’t go getting any ideas,” you teased. 
“Trust me,” he assured, moving up to peck your lips, “the ideas I’m having do not involve taking your life.” 
You slid a hand across his chest and began undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Thinking of taking something else?” you hummed against his lips. 
“Yes,” he replied as his hands wandered down your abdomen and brushed against your clothed core. Your breath shuddered as he teased you through your underwear, stroking your clit before sliding down to dip a finger in your entrance. 
A soft whine escaped you as he pressed sloppy kisses against your neck. You bucked your hips against his hand, desperate for more. 
He hooked a finger through the waistband of your panties and with the flick of his wrist they were falling off of you. Your gasp was quickly swallowed by his lips against yours and his deft fingers sliding through your folds. 
“So wet for me,” he praised as he circled your clit. He slowly inched a finger into your entrance, like he had multiple times before. He quickly added another finger and pumped it languidly within you, savoring the way you swallowed him whole and were begging for more. 
“Fuck me,” you whimpered as you ground your hips against the palm of his hand. “Please, Edward.” 
He removed his fingers and slipped them passed your lips, groaning as you eagerly swiped your tongue across the pads of his fingers. He fumbled for the buckle of his belt with his free hand and the smooth leather bumped against your inner thighs. You took the time to unclip your bra, allowing it to fall freely off your shoulders. You threw it elsewhere in the room, not caring where it landed. 
You gripped the side of his pants and helped him shimmy out of his slacks. His lips were back on yours faster than you could process. You were still getting used to his super speed after all this time. You reached down to palm him through his briefs, and he moaned against your lips. 
You looked up at him through your lashes as you slipped a hand past the waistband of his briefs and wrapped a hand around his cock. You pulled his length out of his briefs so you could freely stroke him. You slid your thumb over his pink-hued tip, which was the same color as his lips, spreading the precum that had begun to form. 
He bit back a gasp, his teeth sinking into his soft lips. You wanted to hear him. You knew all of those pretty little noises he could make, why was he holding back from you? 
“Please, Edward,” you begged, tugging him closer to you, “you promised.” 
He settled his hips between your thighs, one hand roaming your body while the other slid his length through your dripping folds. You arched against his touch and rested your hands on his shoulders, his soft skin under your fingertips grounding you. 
“I love you,” he murmured as he slowly pushed inside of you. A soft hiss escaped your lips as he inched inside of you. His eyes scanned your face, searching for the slightest inkling that you were uncomfortable. 
Quickly, the slight pain of him inside you morphed into pleasure. You’d never felt so full— so deeply connected with Edward. 
“You’re okay?” he asked, voice strained and pleading. Your hands shifted up to cradle his face, and you swiped a thumb over his cheek as you gave a quick nod. 
You pulled him toward you and pressed your lips against his, “I’m okay.” 
The plush skin of your thighs sunk under his grip as he started rocking into you. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and nipping at the skin there. Each and every one of Edward’s thrusts is purposeful and deep, almost as if he’s trying to mark you as his own. The thought turned you on, and you clenched around him.
He propped himself up on the headboard with one arm to let his eyes rake over your form. Your tits bounced with each roll of his hips against yours, and his grip tightened on the headboard. The wood cracked and then splintered under his palm, but you didn’t care. You were making him feel good, and pride swelled in your chest. His eyebrows were pinched, his expression a mix of pleasure and thinly veiled restraint. 
“Don’t stop,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his hips and bringing him closer. “I can take it.” 
He groaned against the crook of your neck as his thrusts quickened. The room was filled with the sounds of the squelching of your heat and the soft music Edward had put on while you got changed. His free hand trailed across your thigh and moved to draw quick, tight circles around your clit. A breathy moan left you, and the familiar heat pooled in your belly. 
He left open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck. His thrusts became short and sloppy as you neared your climax, your walls fluttering around him. 
“You feel so good,” he breathed against your neck, “wanna feel you cum around me.” 
You clenched around him in a vice grip as you came, a strangled cry and his name gracing your lips. You threw your head back into the pillow below you as your orgasm washed over you. Edward whined against you as he helped you ride out your high. 
Edward’s hips faltered against your own and he quickly pulled out of you. He didn’t get very far, though, and his release coated your thighs. You whimpered as it ran down your thighs, warmer than you thought it’d be. 
You panted, attempting to catch your breath. Edward leaned down and captured your lips in his. You reached up and ran a hand through his hair, pulling him closer. 
“I love you too,” you finally whispered as you pulled away. 
His lips curved into a smile, “Was it everything you imagined?” 
“Better,” you replied, your mind racing with a thousand different scenarios. Edward met your eyes before groaning, a boyish smile gracing his features as he lay beside you. 
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skzdarlings · 12 days
Text
the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader
original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you
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pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy! <3
-
“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted.  “My husband isn’t coming for me.” 
The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand.  You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.    
You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer.  The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone. 
He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return. 
Hyunjin was quiet on the call.  Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation.  When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster. 
Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business.  He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family.  Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle. 
Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you.  When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties. 
The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld.  The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved.  Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.
In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.    
You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call.  Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance.  He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.       
You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call.  You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned.   At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster.  You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport. 
Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes.  They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown. 
Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst. 
“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said.   He ended the call seconds later.    
“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says.  He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife.  It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat.  “Or else.” 
“He won’t, though!” you exclaim.  “You’re wasting your time!”
They are not listening.  They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.
You huff and settle back in your bonds. 
It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth.  Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you.  He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental.  There is a professional distance between you.  His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business. 
You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity.  He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies.  He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind. 
Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you.  You often catch him staring.  He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up.  His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions.  You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter.   He seems more than content to listen.  He remembers everything too. 
You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else.  He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away.  He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon.  He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card.  It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship.  You missed his dark eyes.
Your family also had expectations.  There would be consequences if the marriage fell through.  You would be blamed, not him.  Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him. 
He politely rejected you at every turn. 
Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job.  It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse.  You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom.  You could hear him cursing above the running water. 
You only meant to peek.  The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over. 
Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder.  There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars. 
That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty.  His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain.  Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head. 
He froze at the sound of your gasp.  His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair.  They captured yours.   
You held your breath. 
Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face.  He looked in the mirror and sighed.    
“You can come in,” he said.   “This is your home too.” 
You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through.  Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder.  You could see the wound was a thin stripe.  It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.
“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.    
In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering.   You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start.  You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut. 
He flinched when the stinging cream made contact.  You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror.  You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever. 
“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection.   “You – you have people to protect you.”  You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face. 
“I do,” he said.  “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.” 
This did not surprise you to hear.   It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people.  It is a fact known to few.  It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him.  He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private. 
You have never known another man like him.  Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you. 
Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others.  If something happened to him, what would become of you?  Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter?  This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin.  This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless. 
Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder. 
“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke.  “Please make sure you always come home, okay?” 
He did not answer at first.  When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire. 
“Hyunjin?” you said softly.   
“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization. 
“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine.  It made him stand a little straighter.  “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked. 
He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger.  He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table. 
“You’re a smart woman,” he said.  “I know that.  And I know that you’re – good.” 
Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue.  You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself.  He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted. 
“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked. 
Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady.  You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting. 
Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before.  You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity.   Of him, of all that he was, all that he did.  His character, his hidden depths.
Your husband. 
It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive. 
You desperately wondered what was on his mind.  The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response.  Was he feeling the same tension?  Were his thoughts the same realization?
 My wife.  
“Yes,” he finally said. 
“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.
His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so.  It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss. 
He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face. 
“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time. 
You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire.  It was so different to that kiss.  You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that.  You never knew what you were missing. 
Your quiet husband and his multitudes.  All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin.  His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever. 
He walked you backwards.  With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back.  He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.   
He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself.  Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath. 
He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain.   He looked at you like he already loved you.  He looked at you and saw the reciprocation.  You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled. 
He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place.  His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body.  You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now.  It is why it became your favourite. 
He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body.   It broke through that last layer of ice.  He surrendered with a choked breath. 
He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket.   Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt.  You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard.   You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires.  No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.
Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real.   His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way.  He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before. 
Recollection makes you crave another kiss.   You think you will always be starving for more. 
“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest. 
He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed.   He kissed you again, long and slow.  It was all more sensual than desperate.
His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.”  He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat.  “Please, my wife.”  He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it.   “My wife,” he repeated. 
“My husband.”  The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.   
It was all the confirmation he needed.  Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness.  He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.   
He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way.  His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness.  Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you. 
He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers.  It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth.  He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth.  He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you. 
He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time.  He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you.  It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before.  You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.
He responded in kind.  His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together.  You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars.  Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses. 
His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless.  He always wanted more. 
You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled.   However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever.  He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business.   You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations. 
When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed.  There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance.  The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing.  But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.
He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before.  But while his silence was significant, so was his glance.  Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud. 
You granted him some distance for a time.  When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap. 
One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side.  You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants.  His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up. 
He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything. 
It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case.   His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.
You said nothing.  You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair.  He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you. 
You ran your fingers through his hair.  When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek. 
There were some wipes on his desk.  You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up.  His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist.  He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself. 
“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face.  Still impossibly beautiful.
“Hello,” he replied. 
His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe.  Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him.  This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees. 
He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly.   You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten. 
He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face.   He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.
You took your hand back and unknotted your robe.  The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body.  You were completedly naked underneath. 
It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.
“You—” he began.  It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh.  You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants.  It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.  
“Please,” you said. 
He would never deny you anything.  Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture.  When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour.  You shared passions, and now you shared this.
He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat.  His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise.  He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth. 
You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment.  He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink. 
He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds.  That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one.  He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss. 
His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed.  The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”
“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment. 
He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame.  When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it.   His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up. 
 “What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat.  The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower. 
“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over.  He licked and kissed back up to your mouth.   “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.” 
As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you.  His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him.  It had been a little while, and this angle was different.
And Hyunjin is not small.  Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception.   This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like  he was a life preserver in a storm.  The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise. 
Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you.  He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat. 
You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you.  You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.    
“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.
Fortunately, he was and is a smart man.  He understood.  He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure.  His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before.  You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms. 
He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs.  It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered. 
He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again.  He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.
Then you were on your back, the night far from over. 
That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more.  Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you.  You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world.   You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him. 
You have been out of his arms for too long.  Your visit to your family grew tedious before long.  Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return. 
Now it seems you may never see it again.  You may never see him again. 
No.
Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now.  You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue.  You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business.  You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision.  You must eliminate the need for choice. 
It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies.  When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings.  There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them. 
It is true, you do not like violence. 
That does not mean you do not understand it. 
You leave the two men unconscious in their basement.  Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown.  You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway. 
You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle.  You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants. 
Then Hyunjin emerges.   You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it.  If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now.   There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely. 
Then he stumbles, recognizing you.  You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you. 
He looks nowhere but your eyes. 
“Hyunjin?” you finally say. 
“I—”  He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress.  He shakes his head.  Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”
“Ah,” you say.  You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply.  You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business.  The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.  
In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry.  You’re late.” 
That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth.  He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.
“I can see that,” he says. 
He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand.  His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.        
You turn to watch them go.  In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm.  He is fast, effectively disarming you.  He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.
It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.
Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him.  You throw your arms around him.  The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.
“Are you hurt?” he asks. 
When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain. 
You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek.  He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe. 
“I’m all right now,” you say.  “Sorry I beat you to the punch.  I – I wasn’t sure if—”
His brow crinkles.  That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger.  He tips your head so he can look at your face.  He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find.  He is enchanted every time. 
“You’re mine,” he says.  “And I take care of what belongs to me.” 
You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space.  He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless. 
“Do not ever doubt that,” he says.  His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary.  It makes you tingle from head to toe.  “Do I need to remind you?” 
You never actually answer.  You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home. 
You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold.  He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.  You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.
He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place.  Now, he is not slow or subtle.  He is a force of nature.   He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call. 
“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body.  “I’m your husband.  There is nothing I should be holding back.” 
“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair.  You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers.   “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath.   “Do whatever you want.” 
He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down.  He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites.   You shiver at every suggestion. 
And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed.  He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass. 
“You’re my wife,” he says.  The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress.  It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce.  “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.  
This time a yelp escapes your lips.  You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress.   He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.  
You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers.  You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next.   You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together. 
“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again.  “Who am I?”
“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down.  “My husband,” you say again. 
“And you are—”
“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you.   With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold. 
“Husband,” you say, hips bucking.  His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.
“Yes?” he says.
You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead.  You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place.  Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows. 
“I make you feel good,” he says.  “I take care of you.  You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”
You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently.  Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up. 
“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess.  “Just for me,” he says in that whisper.  “Just for your husband.” 
“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you. 
Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up.  He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed.  You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.
He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap.  He forgets to remove his necklace.  All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you.   You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you. 
He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions.   When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase.   When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever.  When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms. 
He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart.  Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow.  Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.
You let yourself fall into it, fall into him.  You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels. 
Before it ends, you change position.  He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely.  He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down.  Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name.  His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body.  Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again.  He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn. 
“Hyunjin,” you say.  “My husband, oh—”
He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately.  Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you. 
“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin. 
He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn.  His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth.   There is no more ice, no more cold concrete. 
“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh. 
He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly.  It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.
He looks at you like his favourite work of art. 
“You were the one who rescued you,” he says.   “Just like you rescued me.” 
You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him.  It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back. 
You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband. 
1K notes · View notes
yangkitties · 7 months
Text
giving them flowers ✩ skz
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pairing: ot8 x gn!reader || word count: 1.7k genre: 100% fluff 🫶 || warnings: none, vaguely proofread 😁 synopsis: skz when you give them flowers out of the blue! note: i am so sorry for taking so long with this post, i js got so caught up in so many things 😭 anyways i hope y'all enjoy it <3<3 also abby i hope you're happy its finally out, now plz get out of my walls 😘
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Chan: 
cries a little for sure 
the ‘for me? rlly? rlly? rlly?’ kinda guy
kisses you so much like for real
takes the BEST care of the flowers, they survive for a whole two weeks somehow 
even dries and presses them after they wilt and frames them <3 
Disbelief washed over Chan’s face, his brain slowly processing what had just happened. He slowly drunk in the fact that you had brought him a bouquet of flowers, just because you could. 
He watched silently as you presented the flowers to him him. Gingerly taking them from your hands, he observes in awe at the multitude of colours. 
‘Are these really for me?’ He looks up at you with glossy eyes, head tilting to the side. You can only giggle, adoring his cute habits. You lean in to place a chaste kiss on his forehead, your actions speaking more than an essay of reassuring words ever could have.
‘I was walking back home and the bouquet reminded me of you.  I had to get it, it would be a crime if I didn’t.’ 
The simple action warmed Chan’s heart, love and affection coursing through his veins. He hugged you suddenly, nuzzling his head into your neck. You smiled into his hair, enjoying the contact. 
‘I love you, so dearly.’
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Minho
dying and crying and wailing on the inside 
he’s so damn grateful, he rlly can’t believe someone loves him like this 
will not admit it, but tears up like 100% 
‘thank you baby, but you’re prettier’ manages to pull an uno reverse and fluster you 😁 
looks at them fondly from the couch
Usually when you picked him up from the airport, Minho could spot your face right from the get go. But today, all he could see was a large bouquet of colourful flowers, accompanied by a sign that read ‘Lee Minho’. As he approached the sign, the flowers shifted to the side to reveal Minho’s favourite view, your smiling face. 
Giggling, he engulfs you in a tight hug. 
’So who are these for, baby?’ He examines the bouquet, observing the bright hues. 
’They’re for you silly!’ You hand him the bouquet and take his back pack from him. He stands agape, shock drawn over his sharp features. 
‘Me.. me??’ His stuttering sends you into a fit of giggles, enjoying the rare moment where you got to see your boyfriend flustered. 
Quickly regaining composure, he pulls you to his side, whispering in your ear, ’The flowers are pretty sweetheart, but they’re not as pretty as you.’ You gently slap his chest, hiding away into his jacket. 
‘Oh, shut up.’
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Changbin:
almost dies in a giggling fit 
hugs them so tight the stems almost snap off T-T 
appreciates it more than he can even tell 
picks one out and puts it behind you ears :) 
brags about it to the rest of them what an amazing partner you are
The shock etched on Changbin’s face when you reveal a bouquet to him sends you into a small fit of giggles. Accepting the flowers delicately, he marvels at the colours and types of flowers. 
He smiles, pulling you into a hug. He squeezes, tighter and tighter, afraid his love for you might explode out of him. He whispers, softly against your ear, 
‘I love them so much. So so so much.’ He hugs you tighter, and suddenly, snap. The sharp crunch of the stem of one of the flowers breaking cuts through the confession, startling the both of you. 
‘Oh no… oh man.’ You cautiously examine the bouquet, worried it might fall apart. Changbin quickly identifies the broken flower, carefully picking it out of the bouquet. 
‘Don’t worry baby, now I can do this.’ He deftly tucks the flower behind your ear, brushing away the hair on your face. He admires your face quietly, enjoying the fact that your cheeks are almost as pink as the flower. 
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Hyunjin
bawls. a lot. like uncontrollably 👍 bros a bit emosh if you will 
babbles a million thank yous while kissing you 
paints them so he can keep them forever!!
like chan he dries and presses them and makes a pretty craft work with it:) 
makes you a better bouquet in return
When you sent flowers over to Hyunjin’s apartment, you really hoped he’d enjoy them. You knew how much he loved them, and when you saw the most delightfully beautiful bouquet of flowers, you knew you had to buy it for him. 
When you received a photo of the bouquet with the text ‘they’re perfect’, you knew your job was done. 
What you didn’t expect when you returned to the apartment was a painting of the exact bouquet you had given him. In the short time you were away, Hyunjin had managed to set the flowers in a vase and capture their exact likeness on a new canvas. 
‘It’s the prettiest bouquet I’ve ever seen. I just think its beauty should be appreciated forever.’ He smiles simply as he walks over to you, long hands circling your waist. 
He places a chaste kiss against your ear before whispering, 
‘And so should yours.’ 
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Jisung
jumping with joy !!
he’s twirling around the room really, he loves them so damn much 
also brags to the members, definitely the happiest of them all 
almost kills them within the first two days but miraculously keeps them alive for a whole week 
smiles until his face hurts every time he sees them 🥰
The pure joy on Jisung’s face was enough to compensate for all the struggles you had to deal with to get a bouquet of flowers for him. 
You watched him as he twirled around the room, practically bouncing off the walls in happiness. The little pink tulips bounced along with him as he ran to you. 
‘THANK YOUUU!!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!’ He screeches into your ears, giving you a soul crushing hug. 
But it’s worth it. The near deafness, cracked ribs, and painfully happy grin on your face, becomes insignificant when you watch the gleaming smile on his face as he prances around the room, bursting with bliss. 
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Felix
So cute and lovely about it, thanking you continuously !!
Takes like. 1 million pictures. 
Giggles like a school girl because the note says ‘sunshines for my sunshine’ 
Gets you a bouquet of your favourite flowers that very evening 
Now it’s a competition and you keep getting each other bouquets… until the house starts attracting bees so you have to give them all away ☹️
When you heard about Felix bagging another modelling gig, you knew the perfect congratulatory gift would be a bouquet of white lilies. And as expected he loved them. He took about a million photos and gave you a million more kisses.
But what you didn’t expect was that when you got your big promotion, he would gift you with a bouquet of white tulips. Eventually, this started happening back and forth, each of you getting more and more extravagant bouquets for the other. It soon evolved into a symbol of affection and pride, the both of you showering each other in bouquets. 
Sometimes it would be for actual reasons, and other times it was just because you wanted to. Staring at the umpteenth bouquet of the month, you swear your house had no more vases for it. 
‘Lixxie… baby I think we’re all out of vases…’ You exclaim as he laughs, shocked at your behaviour. 
‘Well, I just thinks we love each other so much more than what we can handle.’ He smiles at you, radiant as always.
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Seungmin
dies. like. he really thinks he’s died and gone to heaven when he sees the bouquet 
so quiet you think he doesn’t like them, but is quick to reassure you 
bros like so damn speechless until you begin to start apologising and suddenly he can’t shut up 
literally will not stop rambling about how grateful he is for them and how much he loves you until you kiss him 
his ears are as red as the roses man he’s so down bad <3 
When you showed up at the restaurant with flowers for him, Seungmin knew he would do nothing short of everything to keep you his. 
With your dazzling smile, and honey sweet voice, you told him that the flowers for him, and in that moment his brain short circuited. A spiral of thoughts danced around his head, almost as chaotic as the butterflies in his stomach. The keyword was almost, because he was pretty sure the butterflies in his stomach had done cocaine. 
He watched your smile morph into a frown, lips curling downwards. 
‘Oh… do you not like them? Oh my god wait, are you allergic? Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!!’ You frantically tried to remove the bouquet from beside him, afraid of triggering an allergic reaction. Your actions were quickly halted by Seungmin’s slider fingers around your wrist, eyes wide. 
‘NO! No, no I mean no. I love them. SO much… I just. I love them so much I don’t know what to say.’ He smiles softly before taking your hands in his, holding them gently. 
‘I love them, but I definitely don’t love them more than I love you.’ 
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Jeongin
becomes a tomato !
bros FLABBERGASTED! giggles and kicks his feet and my god is he blushing
kisses your cheeks a lot he just loves them very much :D 
almost accidentally undoes the bouquet while arranging it, thank god you’re there to help him- 
now he expects one bouquet per week or he WILL pout and whine 😁👍
When Jeongin opens the door after hearing the bell, he expects to see your smiling figure, wearing a stolen hoodie and a bright smile.
Instead, he’s greeted with the sight of the most wonderful bouquet of flowers, a burst of almost every colour in the rainbow. Purples and yellows accompanied by splashes of pink and red greet him, as he gapes in shock, awestricken at the sight before him. 
‘Hi Innie! Are you gonna let me in or am I going to have to stay here the whole day?’ Your voice piques from behind the flowers. 
‘Oh god, yes, come in.. baby, are these.. for me?’ He questions awkwardly, shuffling around to let you in. He takes the flowers from you as you reach up to kiss his cheeks. 
‘Well yes silly, who else am I going to get flowers for?’ You laugh at his stunned face, ears almost as red as the flowers in the bouquet. 
You carefully take the flowers back from him, looking for a vase to place them in. You adore the way he follows you like a lost puppy, smiling fondly at the bouquet in your hands. 
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©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost
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reidalert · 2 months
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IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY | spencer.reid
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| spencer reid & fem!reader 3.1k words
| content: a case has you feeling helpless and guilty, and no matter who consoles you, nothing helps. maybe all you need is to take a break, but what if the break is being risky with dr. reid?
| warnings: mentions of death/kidnapping, flashback to the case, reader feeling vulnerable
| author’s note: i haven’t written in a longgg time and boy does it feel good to finally get these words out of my head. it feels like a privilege to get my writing spark back & i can’t wait to share all my ideas with you. i hope you enjoy reading <3
| masterlist
feedback and comments are highly appreciated!
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You have thick skin.
Well, that’s what you say to anyone who asks if you’re okay.
But after today? After this case? You’re not sure if that’s true anymore. You don’t get affected easily, not when it comes to blood and gore. You’ve homed in on keeping your reactions and feelings at bay when it comes to that… but what happened out there? It’s made you feel helpless.
You knew from the minute JJ briefed you back at the BAU that this case was something you hadn’t dealt with before. Even Agent Hotchner had asked if you wanted to sit this one out.
But you said no. You wanted to get more experience to become a better profiler and a better agent. And it came at a cost.
You feel like an outsider. Like you’re watching yourself from an outside perspective as you go through airport security. The endless whir of machines and planes landing and taking off in the background do nothing for the thoughts racing in your mind.
You’re the last to be cleared and you know the others are watching you. Their eyes burning through your skin and doing what they do best. Profiling.
You don’t meet their gaze. You know as soon as you make eye contact with one of them, they’ll be asking you questions and it’ll make you torture yourself about whether you’re fit for this job. So, you make your way through the long and endless corridors until you’re at the gate for the jet.
The dull whirring of the jet engines helps you zone out. The leather seats are a cool comfort to your heated self.
Logically, it would make sense to let them know you’re not doing okay and that you need some time to yourself. But who are you kidding? You’re a thick skinned woman who can do anything… so you’ve made them believe.
You’re sitting on the farthest seat in the jet, right in the corner away from everyone else. You can’t deal with the questions you know they’re going to ask you.
But apparently, that doesn’t stop Agent Hotchner from taking the seat opposite you.
“I know what you’re gonna say.” You break the silence but continue staring out the oval window. The city lights below turn smaller and smaller as you progress through the flight.
“And what’s that?” Agent Hotchner asks. You’re not happy he’s here, invading your little self-pity bubble, but you do appreciate the way he keeps his voice quiet.
You shrug. “That something has upset me. Or that I’m too in my head about this case. Along those lines, anyway.”
Agent Hotchner regards you for a moment. You can feel his eyes staring at the side of your face as you purposefully stay looking out the window.
Because you know the second you make eye contact with him, he’ll see what’s going through your head. And he can’t.
“I gathered something was wrong.” His voice is low, a nice baritone that doesn't annoy you. “I know when someone in my team is different. And you’re different.”
You fight back the scoff that’s threatening to spill. “And what is that supposed to mean, Agent Hotchner?”
“Just…” he sighs. You’re very similar to Spencer Reid; in a way that you both struggle to admit when you need help. “If something is bothering you, I am here to listen.”
“Who says something is bothering me?” You kind of regret asking that question as you know damn well he’s about to go into an explanation of how he can see you’re upset.
He sits up a little straighter, hands clasped over his crossed knees. “You’re avoiding eye contact with me, your knuckles have turned white from how hard you’re gripping the arm rests—”
“That’s nothing—”
“You’re interrupting me. You don’t like being analysed as it makes you vulnerable. You haven’t eaten anything in the past,” Agent Hotchner checks his watch. “Six hours. Your stomach is warring against your emotions and you don’t like that. You’re sitting in a corner trying to push yourself away from other people.”
“Okay.” You bite out, now finally giving in to looking him dead in the eyes. “You’re a great profiler. No need to showboat.”
“I’m not showboating.”
You roll your eyes, “Sure seems like it.”
A minute or two pass in silence. Agent Hotchner is still staring at you and you feel incredibly small under his gaze. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything.” He fixes his shirt cuffs, acting so nonchalant as if he didn’t just profile one of his team members.
You grit your teeth. “Fine. Today messed with my head. That case was… it was wrong. So wrong that I can’t stop thinking about how I could have helped that family.”
Agent Hotchner leans forward, gently placing his hand upon your own on the arm rest. You feel your grip loosen and you fight back a grimace at how cold his hand feels against your warm one. “It’s not your fault. We all know we could have done something different out there, but sometimes the unsub takes a surprise route. Things like this happen and it’s unfortunate, but don’t blame yourself.”
You shrug again, avoiding eye contact once again. “Yeah.”
He stands, pulling his suit jacket to fit more comfortably. “If you need to talk to someone, come to my office.”
You only offer a silent nod in answer.
“Oh, and Agent L/N? Stop calling me Agent Hotchner, Hotch is just fine.” He offers a small smile and you shake your head, going back to staring out the window until your eyes feel too heavy to keep open.
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“Why is there so much paperwork?” Your voice comes out all agitated as you rifle through a stupid amount of folders and loose paper.
Emily peeks over the cubicle dividing and raises an eyebrow. “You okay there?”
You sigh, slumping down onto your desk chair, spinning until you’re facing her side of the cubicle. “Do I sound okay to you? Who in their right mind decided to give me the goddamn paperwork for that goddamned case?” You glance around the wide room, trying to find JJ; this has to be her doing.
Emily purses her lips, “Doing paperwork isn’t that bad, Y/N. I mean, I guess there’s a lot but it’ll make the day go by quicker.”
“Oh, please.” You scoff, feeling yourself grow more annoyed by the minute. You know you need to get yourself in check, but the past 24 hours have ridden you like the Grim Reaper is taking jockey lessons in Hell.
“What’s got Little Miss Thick Skin so angry today?” Derek Morgan walks up to your desk, a hot mug of coffee in his hand. A brief thought had you biting your lip— it’d be wrong to spill it on him.
“Don’t start, please.” You rest your elbows on your desk, hands holding either side of your face as you stare at the paperwork. The names of the family you couldn’t save stare right back at you. Your stomach drops and you’re not sure how long you can stay in this office.
“Hey,” Derek places his mug on your desk before crouching down to your eye level. “What’s wrong, girl? If you don’t want to do the paperwork, I can take it off your hands. No big deal.”
You shake your head, “Don’t bother. I’m fine.”
Derek watches your face and you turn your head to look at him. “If you start profiling me, Morgan, I swear to God that coffee mug will end up in a place you really don’t want it.”
Derek chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, girl. Just tryna help ya out.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t need help. I’m fine.” You scoot your desk chair closer and grab the closest pen, tapping it against the top of your desk to distract you from the fact you have to relive this case just a day later.
You don’t catch it, but Derek and Emily share a knowing look. They’ve seen this before. It’s not hard to notice someone you spend days on end with is struggling.
Derek grabs his mug and pats you on the shoulder. Emily sinks back into her cubicle and makes sure to keep an eye on during the day. If she finds you with smoke coming out of your ears, she’ll go get the fire extinguisher.
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Your hand cramps as you write your final notes. The computer screen has turned too bright for your eyes and a headache begins to form behind your eyes. It’s been a long day.
Clicking the pen closed, you lean back against your chair with a deep sigh. You close your eyes just to rest them for a brief moment and scenes from yesterday plague you.
It’s like you can’t escape.
Your heart rate picks up speed. You’re not sure how it turned into a game of cat and mouse, but you’re adamant on putting a stop to it.
“What does he think he’s doing?” You’re standing with your palms pressed against a conference table in a police station in Washington. The projector casts a live shot of the news— a helicopter is chasing after the unsub in a car. The family you’re trying to protect is with him.
“He’s trying to flee.” Agent Rossi says, so matter of factly that it has you turning your attention to him instead.
You squint at him. “You saw this coming, didn’t you?”
He gestures to the screen. “You didn’t?”
“No, I did not.” You grit your teeth, moving so you’re now standing up straight. “I predicted he’d do something out of the blue. We all did. But we didn’t know he was going to kidnap them. That wasn’t part of his game.”
Rossi shrugs, “I’ve been in this job longer than you have, kiddo. It takes experience to know something like this. Don’t blame yourself.”
“What?” You let out a disbelieving scoff. “Listen here old man—”
“That’s enough.” Agent Hotchner cuts through your words, ending your little spat with Rossi. “We’re all here to do a job. So let’s do it.”
Faint footsteps sound behind you. You’re not sure who’s still in the office, but considering how late it is, there’s only a few people that come to mind.
“Hey, what are you doing here so late?” That all too recognisable voice makes your heart swoop. Spencer appears in your line of vision, his man-bag crossed over his torso. He looks ready to leave. “It’s nearly 7PM.”
“Oh.” You glance at the clock mounted on the wall. You didn’t realise that you were doing the paperwork for the Washington case for nearly 10 hours. “Guess I lost track of time.”
Spencer regards you for a minute. “Everything okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You offer a weak smile, not trying to be bitchy to him like you were to the others earlier. You make a mental note to apologise to them tomorrow.
“It’s just— nevermind.” He shakes his head.
Your brows furrow, “No, what is it?”
“Ever since we got on that plane yesterday, you’ve been hostile.” Spencer rocks back and forth on his heels. “I know you don’t like to be profiled, I don’t either, but I know something is wrong.”
You twist in your chair, facing your computer screen with your hands hovering over the keyboard. You don’t want to talk about it, you just want to figure it out on your own.
“Y/N?” Spencer says your name and you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes all sparkly, his cheeks smooth, his lips… perfect.
You blink slowly. Your head isn’t in the right place, but your heart (and hormones) are.
You internally say fuck it and reach for the strap of his man-bag to pull him down to your level. Your breaths mingle and your eyes dart in a triangle from one eye to his lips to his other eye. And lo and behold, the triangle method actually works because Spencer leans in and you feel his lips ghost over your own.
And nothing.
He just stays in that position. Hunched down in your grip, lips mere millimetres away from your own and he doesn’t finish the job.
You breathe in a deep sigh, your senses being filled with his scent. “Why aren’t you kissing me?”
“I— I think it’s because I know you’re not yourself. It feels wrong.” Spencer's breath is minty as it fans over your cheeks and neck. You want to say something snarky, but you know he’s right. “I do want to kiss you, though. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.”
You lean back a little, your eyes staring into his pretty brown ones. You don’t see a sign of a lie and your heart skips a beat. “Would it help if I admitted what’s going on? Would you kiss me then?” God, are you really that desperate to get kissed by Spencer Reid? Yes. Yes you are.
Spencer lowers into a crouch, one hand grips the armrest of your desk chair, whilst the other splays across your knee with a gentle squeeze. “If it helps you, then it’ll help me. Talk to me. Let me inside your pretty head.”
You reach out for his tie, fiddling with it to help your nerves. “You know I don’t like talking about how I feel, but this is something I can’t keep to myself anymore.”
Spencer nods, his hand on your knee giving you another squeeze. But this time in a reassuring way. That’s your go ahead sign to lay it all down.
“That case we did. The family where we couldn’t save them, where I couldn’t save them, keeps replaying in my head and I don’t know what to do to stop it.” You take a breath, your fingers still playing with his tie. “If we got there sooner, I know we could have stopped him from hurting them. From killing them. I feel like if I did or said something right or helpful, I could’ve saved them. I hate feeling like this because I know it isn’t my fault, but I just can’t help but feel guilty.”
Spencer stays quiet, letting your words sink in. “You’re right, it isn’t your fault.”
You sigh, dropping his tie and moving your attention to his face. To his lips.
“I wish I could go back in time and help.” You admit, feeling a small weight lift from your shoulders.
“I wish for that, too.” Spencer admits as well. Both of you find comfort in knowing you feel the same. It makes feeling like this just the little bit easier to deal with. “Thank you for sharing how you feel.”
You let out a small laugh. “Thank you for not dismissing me.”
“I could never dismiss you.” Spencer’s voice is soft and warm. His fingers slowly trail up and down your calf, sending a shiver through your body. “Would you like that kiss now?” The smirk on his lips has your stomach flipping and you want nothing more than for his lips to be on yours.
“I would very much like that kiss now.” You smile at him, leaning in and already feeling your body succumb to him. When your lips meet, you sigh. You’ve missed being able to be physical with him; it’s hard trying to stay colleagues when all you want is to be wrapped up in his arms.
Spencer lets his hands travel— up your thighs, round your back, cheekily up the hem of your dress. You moan lightly into his mouth and he swallows it.
Your hands grab for his collar to deepen the kiss. “More.” You mumble against his lips and he complies. Spencer bites your bottom lip to elicit a gasp from you so he can dive his tongue down your throat with ease.
You feel yourself involuntarily squeezing your thighs to quell the ache forming between your legs. God, you’d do anything to take him home with you right now.
Before you get a chance to start undoing his tie, a loud and clear cough comes from your right.
You stop moving but Spencer keeps going. Trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, you now get a perfect view of Hotch standing outside his office with his arms crossed. You can’t make out what his face is portraying.
“Spence.” You tug on his collar, but he thinks you want him to go further. You feel his tongue lick a stripe up the column of your neck and you have to fight back a whimper.
You’d die on the spot if you let Aaron Hotchner hear you moaning.
“No. Spencer.” This time you push at his shoulders and the look he gives you makes you feel bad. But if you let him carry on, both of you would never be able to be in Hotch’s presence. Ever.
“Are you okay?” Spencer brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Did I do something you didn’t like?”
You shake your head, your fingers quickly straightening out Spencer's tie. “I loved it. You were good, but, um…” your eyes drift off to where Hotch is still standing.
It’s as if Spencer was zapped by lightning. He shoots back away from you, and somehow manages to hit every piece of furniture around him. You want to laugh but this situation doesn’t call for laughing. You’ve been caught by your boss making out in the middle of the BAU.
“Reid, L/N. Care to explain?” Hotch moves slowly down the stairs, his aura too strong for you to look him in the eyes right now.
You twiddle your thumbs. “He was just helping me finish this file report from the case yesterday.”
Hotch looks at Spencer, knowing that he’ll blab the truth. “She was upset about not being able to save them and I wanted to help ease her pain and—”
“That’s enough.” Hotch raises a hand. “Since it’s past working hours, I’ll make a one time allowance for this behaviour.”
You have a big sigh of relief and Spencer lets out an audible groan of embarrassment. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re right. It won’t.” Hotch checks his watch and frowns. “I’m late for something. Finish that report and I’ll see you both tomorrow. Behaving correctly.”
You nod your head and Spencer keeps his head down staring at the floor. You watch Hotch leave the office and you finally let out your cringing grimace. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know he was here. I thought he left already.”
“I can’t be mad. I got to kiss the prettiest girl in here.”
“Shut up.”
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Copyright credit to @reidalert as of 2024-present.
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dayas · 2 years
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F2F, Nobody Gets Me, and Ghost In The Machine are Brucas tracks I don’t make the rules
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